#I just wanna thank you because without your questions I wouldn’t have made half the stuff I have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

therentyoupay · 1 month

Note

How would you write Elsa falling first? I absolutely adore your loser Jack pining after put together Elsa, but how would you reverse their roles?

i promise i promise i did not mean to write a one-shot for this. and i SWEAR it is ACTUALLY a one-shot. it is the OLD-SCHOOL definition of a one-shot, because i opened this ask and thought, aw, wouldn't it be cute if i just wrote a little tiny ficlet to illustrate an example of this scenario instead? and then out came 5,297 words. in one sitting. in ONE SHOT.

i would also like the record to show that i LOVED this challenge, i love trying out new scenarios or styles that subvert all the habits i've gotten myself into over the past decade or so!! thank you for this ask!! and, also, let the record show, that even as i wrote a full 5k+ of fic leading up to a "she falls first, he falls harder" scenario, i still couldn't quite hit the mark... in this case, i think it's open to interpretation as to whether she falls first, or they fall at the same time. 🤣 ENJOY. p.s. LOSER JACK?? LMAO WHAT IS THIS

“Watch your head—“

She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the churning of what appeared to be a factory conveyor belt gone awry. A tiny creature smaller than even a Norwegian Mountain Troll cried out in dismay as a cascade of nutcrackers fell into a sorting bin meant for what appeared to be that latest handheld gaming device—the Swap, or something.

Elsa grinned at the chaos surrounding her—little elves scolding one another, scurrying about—and wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to see the Pooka—Bunnymund—grinning in delight at her delight.

(I told you, his eyes seemed to say, as he gestured for her to continue ahead of him through the vast workshop chamber toward the office tucked away in the back. You wouldn’t regret it, if you came with me.)

Without giving him the satisfaction—yet—Elsa merely took in all the productivity around them, and let her gaze sparkle with the Wonder she knew was in them; dryly, she marveled, “It’s July.”

“Christmas doesn’t take holidays, mate,” Bunny winked. “Especially not here.”

Elsa stuck her courage to the sticking place as they approached the office—the door was slightly ajar. No matter what happens, Elsa inhaled and exhaled; you can always go back to Ahtohallan, to Antarctica.

You don’t have to stay here—with them.

Strengthened by this truth, Elsa squared her shoulders and softened her face into something curious and approachable as Bunny opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“OI.” Bunny stepped through the office, holding the door wide, which allowed Elsa to wait at the threshold—suspended between two worlds, two moments, two paths… perhaps two different lives.

“WHAT—Bunny, how many times I say, KNOCK, this program, it is DELICATE—“

“I got a delivery,” Bunny interrupted, and his whole body flinched at the look she gave him, “Er. I mean. I got someone here who you might wanna meet.”

And if Elsa had known then what she knew now, she would have realized in that moment (when North laid eyes on her that July evening in the middle of his work on the newest rollout of the popular role-playing video game—the Sums, or something) that, truly, the future was always in motion, her path already treaded, and—despite all her beliefs, her past, her heartbroken memories—her heart was already preparing to have two homes.

Elsa had visited plenty of warm—tropical, arid, sweltering—and chaotic, sprawling places in her travels, but none quite compared to the utter bustle of the Workshop.

Over the next three weeks of her stay, Elsa grew accustomed to the factory’s noises, to the bickering between the elves and their strange adoration for her, to the yeti’s curious questions about her years at the south pole. They asked relentless questions about the melting ice caps, the fierce predators, and the tiny human-made stations; she answered them as best she could, having wandered Antarctica for only half a decade before Bunnymund happened to find her at the tip of Cape Adare. When she tried to explain that she was much more familiar with the Arctic, they listened politely, but they were clearly much less interested in land so close to home. They also had the strangest custom of bringing her icicles when they returned from their perimeter patrols; she was growing quite a large collection of them in the guest room in the Main House.

The others—called Guardians, she learned—flitted in and out of this headquarters at seemingly all times of day.

Sandy was shocked and delighted to see her again; they’d run into each other just once during the late 1940s, and only when Elsa was passing through a city—Barcelona, if Memory served—to familiarize herself with the changing of the times as quickly as possible.

Sandy made no delay in giving her a much more insightful tour of the Workshop than North’s exuberant one had been, which had focused rather on not-so-subtle hints at how wonderful a life it was to be a Guardian, and such wonderful news it was to hear that Elsa was intrigued by Bunnymund’s offer to meet them, and so wonderful that Elsa had been spending all these years doing all that she could to explore the wonders of the world.

(North was lovely, and welcoming, and fierce—and so boisterous!

And not subtle at all.)

After a few days of visiting the Workshop, Elsa grew comfortable enough to truly relax as she roamed its halls, visited the various stages of production, and occasionally caught up with Bunny as he flitted in and out of the Shop (“Easter is on Holiday!” he’d said, with another wink). She dined with North and his team of merry workers, often with Bunny, who, she learned, was rather too fond of eggnog, and sometimes with Sandy as well.

After only a few hours into Sandy’s first visit, Elsa allowed herself to laugh with her whole chest at the ridiculous antics, the absurdity of it all, the bickering among Sandy, and North, and Bunny—and allowed herself to be endeared by the clear respect they held for one another, by the lightness in the air, the distinct sensation of family. That night, Elsa didn’t immediately retreat to her room after dinner, as she normally would have.

The Memories were not so painful, here.

And their stories!

They regaled her each night over (and after) dessert—about this horrid creature named Pitch Black, about the Moon, about the Battle of Burgess—they all sounded like fairytales to Elsa, even if she, herself, had practically been living in one for nearly two hundred odd years.

The others told her of two other coalition members who fought beside them—both of whom were exceptionally busy, and who would not be journeying to the North Pole again until it was time to celebrate the Equinox.

Elsa was curious about Toothiana—and anxious, about the Memories she protected—and especially curious about the Guardian named Jack…

Frost.

She did not shy away from asking more about him—Elsa had far too little time to worry about such silly fears like embarrassment; immortality was funny like that—and her curiosity grew with each tale she heard. The Guardians spoke of Jack with a mix of fondness and exasperation—his mischievous nature, his loyalty, how bloody annoying he is, I tell ya, that’s what I say.

Elsa could not help but laugh at Bunny’s pervasive frustration with his teammate; his respect for Jack was clear, even if his patience was not.

Still… she had been wandering the world for over 200 years, and in all that time, she had never encountered any others like her, and certainly not anyone especially like her.

The thought of meeting someone who might understand, who might have powers like hers, stirred something deep within her— something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She caught Bunny staring at her in the midst of a reverie by the fire during an after-dinner coffee, so she crisply declared, “Don’t say it.”

“What’s that, Ice-pop? Sorry, couldn’t quite hear you over all of that Hope in your heart.”

Bunny, Elsa learned, was used to ducking snowballs.

Later that evening, as she stood by one of the desperately-tall windows in the corridor leading to her guest quarters—watching the snowflakes drift lazily from the sky—Elsa couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually meet him.

The thought of Jack—a potential ally? a friend? a teammate?—occupied her mind more and more as the days passed, and with each story the Guardians told, Elsa found herself hoping that this Jack Frost—a teacher? a guide? a confidant?—would be looking forward to meeting her, too.

Sometimes, late at night, she would lie awake and wonder what it would be like to have someone in her life who understood her powers as deeply as she did. She imagined his face, always in motion, always just out of reach, and felt a strange sense of—Hope? Elsa rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Anticipation? Perhaps.

Fear?

In these quiet moments, she found her spirit reaching out, as if she could almost call to him—but of course, he was completely out of reach, never having met her before, and likely, perhaps, not even knowing that she existed until only recently... But her heart would quicken at the idea of meeting this person like her, of seeing his eyes—what color?—filled with the same understanding, the same longing for connection that she felt.

What would he think of her? Would he see the strength she had built over centuries? Or would he only see the loneliness that still clung to her, despite all her efforts to cast it aside?

The questions swirled in her mind, mingling with a strange sense of exhilaration that made her feel both alive and vulnerable.

She could almost hear the laughter they might share, the way their powers could dance together in the air, creating something beautiful, something new.

And in those moments, she couldn’t help but smile, imagining a world where she wasn’t alone, where someone else could stand beside her in the snow, not as an adversary—

But as an equal.

“And did he wield ice magic as a human, as well?” Elsa pressed over after-dinner coffee in the drawing room, leaning forward in her chair near the fireplace. North’s giant hands were absurdly large compared to his delicate teacup. “Before he became a Guardian?”

“As a matter of fact—no. The power came later, AFTER Turning.”

Elsa considered his words carefully. Something about his expression seemed rather cagey; centuries of reading strangers’ faces had only honed her political prowess, which had been born out of survival as much as any sense of duty.

“North, tell me: why do you want me to join the Guardians?”

“I—ah! ELSA—

“Because ya’d be mighty good at it!” Bunny blurted, calling over from his newspaper reading on the other side of the drawing room, to North’s indignant sputtering, “if you wisened up and stopped hiding all Hope and Wonder!” And then, as an afterthought, “And it’ll keep Jack humble, I reckon!”

“ASTER!” North scolded fiercely, but he set the tiniest teacup down with the tiniest clink and placed the saucer on the coffee table with such deliberate care, even in his fit of anger, that Elsa couldn’t hold back a small, genuine smile.

“Dont’cha worry, Ice-Pop,” Bunny told her later, as they stood in the wide, cold corridor leading into the main entry chamber of the Workshop, where Bunny preferred to open his portals. Elsa quirked a brow at him, and he chuckled. “We’re not here to actually convince ya. We just want you to see that there’s another option. This Choice… well. Guardians gotta make it for themselves.”

She still had too many questions. How is it that I had never crossed paths with any of you but Sandy, before?

How is it that I have managed to avoid Pitch for all these years?

Why me? What can I really offer—when you already have someone who can already do what I do?

“You still have time before you have to decide. And you need to meet the rest, anyway. Just think about it, is all,” he said, all his wisdom seeping into the very air around them. He cracked open a portal and, a moment later, he was gone.

“Oh!” said an utterly beautiful creature, her wings fluttering with so much excitement and delight that she was practically vibrating. “You must be Elsa!”

Elsa and Toothiana took to one another with surprising ease; time had steadied Elsa’s heart, had taught her the patience and endurance and the strength of a glacier; time had energized Toothiana, who took charge of the world with her vast army and a wide smile. But it had been so long since Elsa had even felt anything remotely similar to the feel of holding onto her sister—and Toothiana understood, completely.

Toothiana shared stories of her own—a whirlwind of adventures collecting memories and moments, each one a treasure she held dear.

(Toothiana's eyes softened as she took Elsa's hands in her own, her understanding gentle yet firm. "I know what it’s like to carry the weight of Memories, Elsa," Toothiana whispered, her voice a comforting balm. "But here, with us, you don’t have to carry them alone. We’re all in this together, and we’ll help you find your way.”)

And Elsa found herself starting to believe her.

To Believe in them.

When the Guardians gathered around the fire—taking time, they said, to ensure that past mistakes were never repeated, that they carved out time for themselves the way they never used to—the conversation inevitably turned to their adventures, to answering Elsa's questions. Somehow, Jack always seemed to be at the center of their tales.

She was rather alarmed to realize the extent to which she had begun to wait for these moments, eager to hear more about Jack, piecing together an image of him in her mind that was as elusive as snowflakes on the wind. Why on earth does not a single Guardian commission a portrait, for goodness’ sake? But Elsa dared not ask for a Memory; apparently, there were still some things left worth being too embarrassed to ask for, after all.

So she contented herself with the way Sandy would add details to the story that the others had forgotten, conjuring up glowing scenes of Jack’s playful antics in vague, golden sand—flurries of snowflakes, intricate frost patterns on windows, and the gleeful laughter of children echoing through the air.

She would find all their efforts rather suspicious… if they weren’t all being so utterly obvious about their Hopes.

Thus, one evening, as they were all gathered around the fire, Elsa couldn’t help but ask, “How did Jack become a Guardian?”

Bunny’s keen eye sharpened upon her cheek; she withstood the scrutiny, allowing him no further entry to her mind, as he added, “Jack was chosen by the Moon, like the rest of us.”

“But Jack…” Toothiana’s voice was soft and somber and unusually serious; the atmosphere in the room shifted, its axis tilting ever so slightly. “He had a harder time accepting it. At first! That is.”

“Took him a while to figure out, is all,” Bunny held his boomerang up to the light, checking the polish. “He came around, eventually.”

“Why?” Elsa asked, genuinely curious.

Sandy floated closer, his golden sand forming an image of a young boy standing alone in the snow, his face a mixture of confusion and sorrow. The image flickered, and the boy’s expression shifted to one of determination and hope.

“Not easy for Jack, his Turning was,” North said, his voice softening. “Not easy for any of us… But Jack had no Memories of his past, no knowledge why he was Chosen. It wasn’t until centuries after his Turning that he found his center.”

“His center?” Elsa echoed, intrigued.

“FUN!” North boomed, smiling, and sending teacups clattering everywhere. Elsa clutched her saucer with both hands. “But not just ANY fun—bringing joy and wonder to children, making them BELIEVE in magic and in themselves. THAT is Jack’s true power!”

Elsa considered this as Bunny complained about dropping his boomerang polish and spilling it all over the carpet. Toothiana was laughing at him and offering to help in equal turns, as Elsa’s mind turned over the implications of centers—and Jack’s in particular. She had spent so long searching for her own purpose, her own… center? Do I have one? As well? Is that why Bunny had found her, out alone at the edge of the iceberg, at the exact moment when she had let it all go, had accepted that she may never find her purpose, that perhaps she did not have one—was that the moment that they had been waiting for?

And now, here in this team, Elsa might soon meet someone who had also once struggled with the same questions, who had found his answers in the most unexpected ways… It makes me, dare I say it… Wonder...

She glanced at the Guardians, each of them so sure of their place, their role in the world, with all their quirks and their trust and their happiness. They had found their centers, their reasons for being. And Jack—this mysterious figure who was off wreaking havoc in some apparently historic winter season in New England—had somehow found the same. She wanted to know more about this spirit who had lived in solitude for so long, who had found a family among these remarkable beings, and who wielded the same icy power she did, yet in a way so different from her own—or, at least, so they thought. Nobody could quite seem to explain to her the exact mechanics of it all.

The more she heard about him, the more she felt a growing need to meet him. She caught herself imagining what their first meeting might be like—whether he would be as mischievous as they said, or if they would take a liking to one another right away, bonded by their similar powers, their similar stories… Perhaps he might help her make sense of… all this? Maybe there was something in him that could help her understand herself better. Maybe he could be… another friend? An ally. A partner. Elsa did not care about the name; what mattered was only that they could learn from each other.

But still. She could not quite deny that her excitement at the chance of meeting him was, perhaps, a bit more complicated than all that.

“I still don't understand. You already have someone whose powers are like mine,” Elsa pointed out reasonably, just when the others had started to turn the conversation to simpler matters. “How could I possibly contribute?”

Bunny barked with laughter from the other side of the circle, over the recipe book he was now reading, preparing for their grand dinner to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. Sandy giggled in golden, sparkling shimmers. North’s laughter was as reassuring as it was alarming.

“ELSIE, my dear,” North boomed as he strode closer to the wing-backed chairs that Toothiana and Elsa were hoarding by the fire, just under the wide window of the central tower, which overlooked the northern tundra. “It is not about powers alone! It is CENTERS.”

“And besides!” Bunny called out over his recipe book, adjusting his reading glasses over the bridge of his twitching nose. She could feel his cheekiness from the other side of the room, but Elsa was particularly amused by the way Toothiana’s whole body tensed up in preparation for Bunny’s antics. “You’re the better deal on both fronts, anyway!”

Toothiana scolded him for the next five minutes but hardly put any real fire into it, and North’s voice echoed throughout the study (“Now, now, Bunny—Jack has only been with us for two years now—and he has done SPLENDID job—“), and Sandy had already fallen asleep in his preferred winged-back chair by the fire, lulled into a nap by the comforting sound of his fellow Guardians arguing over something utterly ridiculous.

Late that night, as Toothiana hastily prepared for departure and her return to her endless work, she caught Elsa by surprise.

“We’ll understand if you would rather return,” Toothiana was gracious, so considerate in her efforts to not step on painful Memories, to not push Elsa too hard or too fast, too soon. “We recognize that this choice, this Oath, is not for everyone. But we hope you’ll consider it.”

Elsa nodded, appreciating the understanding in Tooth's eyes, though she couldn’t quite find the words to express it. The kindness and patience offered—by all of them—made her feel both comforted and conflicted; this was a choice she had to make for herself, but knowing she wouldn’t be judged either way brought a small measure of peace.

Toothiana let out a knowing smile that Elsa didn’t quite understand.

Two days before the Autumnal Equinox, the North Pole was strangely quiet; all others were out and about and attending to their centers, preparing their final tasks before they would all meet for the celebration, here in North’s home.

She thus found herself wandering the hallways alone, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, thinking of the word home, and how it had changed for her over the years—first, her kingdom; then, her sister; then, the secrets that lay in the depths of Ahtohallan, and then nowhere at all.

What was home?

She paused in front of a large, intricately carved door she hadn’t noticed before. There was something inviting about it, something that called to her curiosity. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed it open, stepping into a room bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

The room was a gallery of sorts, filled with shelves upon shelves of intricate snow globes, each one containing a different scene—some of them cheerful, others serene, and a few that looked like they were mid-snowstorm. Elsa moved closer, her breath catching as she realized what she was seeing. Each snow globe was a memory—not one of Toothiana’s collections of course, but rather, a moving picture—a small clip of some film, captured in glass and suspended in time.

She reached out to touch one that was particularly beautiful—a snow globe depicting a small village blanketed in fresh snow, children playing and laughing as they built snowmen and threw snowballs. The scene was so vivid, so real, that she could almost hear their laughter.

“Beautiful, no?” a voice said softly from behind her.

Elsa turned to see North standing in the doorway, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.

“They’re not Memories,” Elsa whispered, more to herself than to him. “They’re… Reminders.”

“Yes. They help with the Wonder, of course.”

Elsa couldn’t move her gaze away from the glass again. “Whose are they?”

North stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with genuine warmth, with joy. “They belong to all of us. The children, the Guardians… and a few others.”

He gestured to a shelf on the far wall, where a single snow globe sat, slightly larger than the others. It depicted a lone figure standing in the middle of a frozen lake, surrounded by a dense forest. Snowflakes danced around him, but there was a sadness to the scene, a loneliness that tugged at Elsa’s heart. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the glass.

“That one,” North said softly, “also belongs to Jack.”

Elsa’s breath caught. She had heard so much about him, yet she still knew so little. The thought of him, alone in this beautiful but desolate scene, stirred something deep within her.

Are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?

“Yes, he’s been through much,” North continued, his voice gentle, washing over Elsa’s rapidly-blinking thoughts, through the strange swell of sadness that swam through her chest. “But he IS strong, and has found his place among us. Still, there are parts of him that are… sometimes, difficult to reach. Things that… perhaps… someone may help… heal?”

Elsa side-eyed him, beneath her lashes. “You are growing less subtle each day, I fear.”

His boisterous laugh told her he wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

“Elsa, when few more centuries you have, you too shall learn when to drop SUBTLETY. No?”

Haven’t I already? But she humored him with a smile instead.

“Whatever you decide—we will support you, your Majesty.”

Elsa’s smile slipped, without her meaning to. Throat thick, she whispered, “No one has called me by that title for a very long time.”

Her eyes pricked with tears as North stepped closer to her, looking down at her—the way her father used to. The way her father might have, had he lived long enough to see her step into her own power, at last.

“I do not call you Majesty because you were Queen, or Snow Queen; I say because I remind you that what you have, and what you are, at your center, is FULL of that which makes living so majestic. It is my sincere wish that—“ and Elsa inhaled at the strange expression that passed his face, the soft mix of hope and resignation all at once— “You will choose the Oath with your full heart.”

Elsa wanted to thank him, but she didn’t want to lie; before she could settle on the perfect breath of diplomacy, North patted her shoulder in reassurance, and left the gallery, leaving Elsa with all the Reminders that were not hers, but insisted she be strong, anyway.

She gazed into the large snow globe, at the figure standing alone on the frozen lake in the deep forest, and Wondered, truly, for the first time, This was also my past…

Will I also find my future here, too?

The Equinox arrived, at last. Elsa had fashioned herself a dress for the occasion, and the excitement buzzing through the Workshop was palpable—everywhere she turned, there were smiles and knowing glances exchanged between the elves and the yetis, as if they all shared a secret that she was just on the cusp of understanding, but not quite privy to.

Elsa did not startle at Bunny’s sudden entrance behind her, but it was a near thing.

“Stop twitching,” Bunny muttered as he sidled up beside her, at the window, where she was watching the horizon and waiting for the other Guardians to arrive. When she glanced up at him, she found his nose twitching in nervous anticipation. “Don’t overthink it, Ice-pop. Jack’s a handful, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Oh? No further jabs at your friendly foe?”

“Nah,” Bunny grinned. “Today, I’m on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”

“You mean ‘Toothy’s honor’.”

“Aye, that too.”

She considered pointing out that his nose was equally twitchy, but she let it slide.

Elsa understood.

And that understanding grew as some of the Guardians started to all trickle in at once; Toothiana sent wide glances about and around the room upon her arrival, and later, as she fussed with the elves’ itineraries, kept catching Bunny’s eye when they thought Elsa was not looking; Sandy checked his watch repeatedly after greeting them all with warm, sandy hugs; perhaps he was conscientious of the time… and yet… North’s laughter was too loud to be completely genuine. Elsa was beginning to understand the true purpose of tonight, swiftly and deeply; this night was no mere dinner, and no simple introduction. Tonight was an audition. An interview.

A trial.

At this point, Elsa didn’t even mind the inquisition; she just wanted it to start.

The storm outside had been raging for over an hour, and yet there was still no sign of Jack. The wind howled, whipping snow into frenzied swirls that danced and spun against the windows of North’s Workshop. The Guardians stood by the large bay window, watching the tempest with a mixture of awe and concern. Elsa had seen far fiercer storms before… but seeing this storm here, now…?

Elsa didn’t know what to think.

“Where do you suppose he is?” Toothiana murmured, her wings fluttering nervously as she peered out at the swirling snow. “When I got off the globe with him a few hours ago, he’d been in a good mood! Do you think he got distracted along the way?”

Sandy nodded, his golden sand forming an image of a snowflake, delicate and intricate, before it dispersed into the air. North stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving the storm.

“Such a nuisance,” Bunny agreed, his ears twitching as he squinted into the whiteout. “But he’ll wear himself out soon enough. Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Perhaps we might,” North rumbled, his voice filled with a deep, resonant certainty. “Jack may wish to make GRAND entrance—”

Elsa stood slightly apart from the others while they discussed, her eyes fixed on the tempest outside. The storm’s power called to something deep within her, something she recognized and understood. She had created countless storms like this, back in her darker days, when her emotions had been a force she couldn’t control. Here, she’d wanted to be a good guest, so it had been a month since she’d truly put her powers to proper use, out in the relative safety of the deep Antarctic deserts. But this…

There was a wildness to it, a reckless abandon. This storm wasn’t about emotion. It was—it’s—

He’s playing!

Just as the words passed through her mind, a voice suddenly piped up behind them, casual and completely out of place in the loud, bustling, tense atmosphere.

“What are y’all looking at?”

The Guardians turned as one, startled by the unexpected intrusion. There, leaning against a large shepherd’s crook, was someone who could be none other than Jack Frost—his expression one of casual amusement as he took in the scene before him. He had somehow appeared without a sound.

The room, which had been brimming with anticipation, fell into a moment of stunned silence, then burst back into noise and life in the very next breath.

Elsa blinked, her heart still racing from the intensity of the storm and the weight of her expectations. But now, seeing Jack standing there, looking so nonchalant and distant, she didn’t know whether to laugh or feel disappointed. He was lean, with his staff slung over his shoulder, and there was an air of mischief about him, tempered by something darker, something cautious.

North was the first to fully recover, letting out a booming laugh that overpowered the other surprised voices in the room. “Jack, you never fail to surprise us! We were just admiring your WORK outside, no?”

Jack grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, that? Yeah, just setting the mood.”

Bunny rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a menace, Frostbite. You know that?”

Jack shrugged, his grin widening. “Just doing my job.”

Elsa felt a strange mix of emotions as she watched the easy banter between Jack and the other Guardians. She realized, perhaps too late, that she had built up this moment in her mind, imagining a dramatic, powerful entrance that would define their first meeting. Instead, she was faced with the reality of Jack Frost: a mischievous, irreverent spirit who seemed to take very little seriously, including the storm he had unleashed.

It was at that moment—in her quiet evaluation, her unexplained disappointment, her curious, lingering hope—that Jack caught her gaze.

Blue.

The playful expression slipped away, just for a flash; his blue eyes met hers, and she saw something there amidst the lingering laughter—something raw and guarded, something that told her that, like her, he was grappling with his own mixed expectations.

For a fleeting moment, Elsa’s breath caught in her throat, not just from the intensity of his gaze, but from the unexpected warmth that spread through her, as if she’d been touched by a sudden gust of spring wind.

“Jack, Jack, my boy, come—meet Elsa! Our dear Elsa—this is Jack, our newest Guardian.”

Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat. The room seemed to hold its breath as Jack hesitated—and then he stepped forward, approaching them at the window; Elsa stood patiently at Bunny’s side, watching Jack’s tousled white hair catch the light of the whiteout outside, watching as his blue eyes deliberately scanned the decorations around the room.

Jack Frost… ?

Elsa waited, patient as a glacier as Jack’s smirking gaze flickered over the gathered Guardians as he reached them, and he saluted North with a deliberately careless air. His smirking gaze lingered on each of them before finally landing on hers.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied. His tone was not unkind, but deliberately casual. “New Guardian, right? They’ve been talking about you non-stop.”

There was a hint of something sharp in his voice, and Elsa felt a pang of anxiety, which she pushed down; Bunny was covering his muttering face with his hand, and Toothiana was rolling her eyes to the ceiling in dismay—or perhaps prayer. Elsa quickly assessed the crisp stare and the hard line of his jaw; she’d been hoping for warmth, for understanding, but what she found in Jack’s gaze was something closer to suspicion.

Keeping her gaze on his, trying to ease the tension she could feel coiling between them, she softly corrected, “I’m not a Guardian.”

At least, not yet…

Or so I…

Elsa felt her chin raise; old habits falling back into place; perfect and pretty and polite, all smooth ice underneath; an effective mask for a Queen.

“I’m here on an invitation,” she said softly, and knew that he would not see the ice daggers in her eyes; not yet, although she was certain he was looking for them. “I’m very grateful to North and all of you for hosting me in honor of this autumnal celebration.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

That is suspicion there, isn’t it? And guardedness… He was trying hard to hide something behind a facade of coolness—some debonair indifference. Elsa recognized the act immediately but played along because there was something else there, too, something that made her heart ache with a familiar loneliness. I’m an ally, she tried to impress upon him through nothing more than the thought. Enough of this!

I could be a friend!

But then, Toothiana swooped in, her wings fluttering with a cheerful energy that instantly distracted them—if not immediately lifting the mood.

“Well! Isn’t this just the perfect way to spend the Equinox?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, drawing their attention away from one another; Elsa was grateful for Toothiana’s quick thinking, her impressive tact. “Jack, I’m sure you’re energized and starving for a glass of eggnog after all that storm-making. Let’s not waste any more time!”

“Uh, did Bunny make it?”

“What’s it to ya, you little twerp?” Bunny shot back, narrowing his eyes with mock suspicion.

Jack grinned, the tension easing slightly as he fell into what must have been familiar banter. “Just making sure it’s safe, is all. Wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get sick on her first night here.”

“Actually, she’s been here for over a month now—“

Elsa watched the exchange (Jack was rolling his eyes) with a mixture of amusement and relief and… unease. (Toothiana’s interruption had indeed worked wonders, shifting the focus away from the awkwardness of their initial encounter and giving everyone, including herself, a chance to breathe.)

(And yet… the warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the chill still clinging to her thoughts.)

As they all moved toward the dining room, Elsa fell in step beside Toothiana, grateful for the other Guardians’ subtle (for once!) alliance and support. She marveled at how, even two centuries since her last political summit, Elsa still remembered every step of walking into a political negotiation; Elsa knew how to navigate delicate situations, how to read the subtlest shifts in tone, how to win.

Elsa had always been a fine Reader of the Room; centuries of invisibility had only strengthened her skills.

And so the Trial begins…

This first impression was a test—one she intended to pass.

And although Jack started to relax once they were all seated and well into the evening—his guarded expression giving way to something more genuine as he bantered with Bunny and teased North about his over-the-top decorations—the knots in Elsa’s stomach remained.

How could she make him see that she wasn’t here to replace him—but to find her own place among them?

The Guardians fell into their usual rhythm as they ate and laughed together, the conversation flowing (mostly) easily between them. Elsa, too, had found her own rhythm with the Guardians during her month-long stay, understanding certain inside jokes and the fascinating nuances of their personalities. But even as she joined in their laughter, the tension between her and Jack was palpable, thicker than the winter storm raging outside.

She observed how Jack's eyes flicked between her and the other Guardians, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he noted instances of the easy familiarity she had developed with them over the previous weeks. He joked along with everyone else, but there was a sharpness to his tone, occasionally—and it seemed that all the other Guardians could clearly tell, even if they were choosing to ignore it with varying degrees of patience… and understanding.

Elsa could feel him measuring every word she said, every laugh she shared with the others. It wasn’t just that she was new or unfamiliar—it was that she had quickly become a part of something that Jack had spent years, perhaps centuries, building with them.

All of the Guardians’ assurances and encouragement over the past month had not hinted at the true nature of their concern; Elsa realized quite quickly that this rift wasn’t something that could be resolved with pleasantries or polite conversation.

Winning his trust wouldn’t come easily—it would demand more than just time; it would require something deeper.

Later that night, after everyone had retired to their quarters or gone out for their evenings of work, Elsa found herself wandering the halls of North’s Workshop, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions, as was her wont.

The evening had not exactly gone to plan, but she supposed it could have been worse. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack still viewed her as a threat. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. She’d need to discuss it with Toothiana tomorrow. Perhaps they might lend me a snow globe?

As she rounded a corner, headed toward the snow globe Reminder gallery, she nearly collided with Jack himself—who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He was leaning casually against the wall, his staff resting on his shoulder, but there was a tension in his posture that belied his relaxed demeanor.

He’d been waiting for her.

“Jack,” she said, startled but keeping her voice steady; once more, familiar, old-fashioned patterns of politeness resurfaced in her moment of uncertainty. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Could say the same about you. Can’t sleep?”

Elsa hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Just... thinking. It’s been a lot to take in.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “You know, everyone seems pretty excited about you joining us. North, Bunny, even Tooth—they all think you’d be a great addition.”

She could hear the ‘but’ hanging in the air, unspoken but heavy between them; the way addition sounded like replacement.

Elsa squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. There was an intensity in his eyes, a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine, though she quickly attributed it to the cold. “Jack, I’m not here to replace you.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and clear. For a moment, Jack’s expression flickered, something vulnerable and upset flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Who said anything about that?”

“No one—listen to me, I know you’re worried,” Elsa continued, refusing to let him deflect. “But you have no need to be. I’m not here to take your place. I’m here because…” Why am I here? “I was invited. I am simply getting to know you all better. I’ve been alone for some time.”

“Spare me the politicking,” Jack huffed, which, indeed, Elsa did take offense to. Especially since she genuinely had not been trying to be diplomatic; just careful.

Perhaps he didn’t believe her story… about being alone?

The idea was more painful than she expected.

Elsa’s eyes narrowed slightly, holding Jack’s gaze. “I’m not here to play games, Jack. I’m just looking for where I might belong—that is all.”

“Will you take the Oath, then? What’s your center?”

Elsa couldn’t explain it, but this struck her as an absurdly personal question. Still. She could recognize a caged animal when she saw one. So, Elsa took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question press down on her. The idea of the Oath, of finding her center, had been something she had pondered endlessly since she’d learned of its existence—perhaps since her arrival, if she was being honest. But to be confronted with it so directly by Jack, someone who still seemed to see her as a rival, made it all the more daunting.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been... trying to understand what it would mean for me to take the Oath, to become a Guardian.” She willed him to understand, at last. “It’s not something I want to rush into without being certain.”

Jack’s gaze remained fixed on her, his blue eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer there—a recognition, perhaps, of the honesty in her words. “And your center?” he pressed. “Do you even know what it is yet?”

Elsa hesitated again, her thoughts swirling. A long time ago, she had known who she was, what she was meant to do. She’d thought so.

But after everything she had been through, all the loss, the isolation, and the rediscovery, she wasn’t sure if her center was what it once had been.

“Perhaps I might have, once,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now... Regardless of whether or not I join you, I’d like to think that there is something at the core of why I am still here.”

“In the Workshop?”

“No, I mean… I mean here.”

Jack tilted his head, studying her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Something told her that she finally got through to him, just a little. Elsa felt herself feeling sympathy for him; even after becoming a Guardian, he was still filled with such…

Fear.

Doubt.

He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable. For a brief, startling moment, she wondered what it would be like to stand by his side, to take the Oath together—as allies, as... something more?

She brushed the thought aside, but the idea lingered, persistent.

Then, finally, he let out a small, almost reluctant sigh. “It’s not easy, you know. Being a Guardian. Finding your center. It’s... it’s not something you just, like, stumble upon.”

“I understand,” Elsa said, her tone sincere. “But if there’s a chance that this is where I’m meant to be—then I’m willing to take that risk. I’m not interested in taking that away from you. You—you haven’t even seen what I can do yet! We don’t even know how much overlap we’d find in our powers, anyway!”

“You impressed Bunny in Antartica,” he practically accused. “That’s enough to say something, isn’t it?”

Elsa was trying her very best to remain steady and calm. “And what about you? What did it take for you to find your center?”

His eyes snapped back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something raw and unguarded in his gaze. “So they didn’t tell you everything, huh?”

She gaped at him. Honestly!

Elsa took a deep breath, steadying herself as she met Jack's gaze. "Jack, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not here to steal anything from you—certainly not your place among the Guardians. I haven’t even decided if—I don’t know if—“

“I already know you’re gonna join us,” he said, almost in a whisper, as if admitting something he hadn’t wanted to face.

“Oh?” Elsa raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “And what makes you so sure?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and then, with a passion she hadn’t expected, he replied, “Because there’s nothing better. There’s nothing like it. It’s everything.”

Elsa was stunned by the raw intensity of his words, the conviction in his voice. She could see it in his eyes—this was more than just a responsibility, more than just a role for him. It was his purpose, his identity—his life, or whatever this agelessness was. For a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with something unspoken, a deep understanding that went beyond words.

She felt her heart skip a beat, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within her—curiosity, admiration, and something else, something unfamiliar. Her pulse quickened.

Jack seemed to realize the weight of his words, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wait. I... I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he said, his voice softer now, more hesitant. “I guess I’ve been... on edge, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

Still shocked by how deeply his declaration affected her, how his passion stirred something within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, Elsa softened at his apology, nodding slightly. “I… understand. And I accept your apology. I appreciate… you saying that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come home and see someone new in the middle of it all.”

Elsa thought she heard him laugh under his breath, mouthing the word Home—

Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Yeah... it is. Anyway. I’m tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Elsa watched him start to turn away, a sudden sense of urgency bubbling up inside her. “Jack, wait—”

He paused, glancing back at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. They were so wide, when they weren’t glaring!

“Shouldn’t we start over?” she asked, her voice gentler, almost tentative in her rush. She extended her hand toward him. “My name is Elsa. I happen to wield ice magic. E. Aster Bunnymund found me on an iceberg a few weeks ago as I was in the middle of creating a particularly notable blizzard, and he invited me to meet his friends, whom he loves and respects very much.”

Jack looked at her hand, then back at her face, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawled over his face.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Jack floated closer, and Elsa held steady—stories or no stories, she had not been prepared to see him fly! “I’m Jack. I also happen to ‘wield’ ice and frost magic. Bunny did not find me on an iceberg, but I’m pretty sure he’d love to stick me in one. Nice to meet you, Elsa, who promises not to steal my spot on the A-team. Welcome to the madness,” and he reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

The moment their hands touched, a strange, electric current seemed to pass between them, and Elsa felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Oh—

He’s—he’s rather handsome, she realized with a start.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, the air between them thick with something she could not, would not name.

Jack was the first to break the silence, his voice a little rougher than before. “Yeah... maybe we should—”

They let go of each other’s hands, but the sensation of his touch lingered, warm and unsettling. Elsa felt a flush creep up her cheeks, unsure of what to make of the emotions swirling inside her.

“Uh—goodnight, Elsa."

“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

And with that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Elsa standing alone in the soft glow of the snow globe gallery. She watched him go, a mix of hope and uncertainty swirling in her chest. The conversation had been difficult, but it had also been a step forward—a tentative, fragile step toward something more. Right?

As she turned back to her quarters, Elsa found herself tracing the line of his smirk in her mind, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes—after weeks of wondering about what he might look like, might be like, she finally had the vision, the Memory of his face.

She rushed with the ornate door handle of her guest room, eager to be inside her room, alone, in the peace and quiet, and finally process the events of the evening, to reflect on all that she'd learned, she'd accomplished, she'd proved.

Exhausted by the sheer weight of so many careful decisions in so short a time, Elsa closed the door behind her with a deep sigh. Exhausted, yes, but also satisfied. She shut her eyes as she leaned against the back of the door and allowed herself a small, tentatively victorious grin, content in the knowledge that when she drifted off to sleep that night, the echoes of their meeting, their tentative truce would fill her mind; this moment gave her, indeed, a sense of Hope that she hadn’t felt in years...

But, in her mind, the Memory that lingered most vividly, as she tossed and turned—was his face.

ao3 ✨

#08192024 update #fixed some typos!!! some missing italics representing thoughts which i think tumblr ate!!!#jelsa #sanfangirl-cynicalromantic #I LOVE YOU LADY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPER THOUGHTFUL ASKS #therentyoupay two homes #therentyoupay fic #therentyoupay fic prompts #therentyoupay ask #ngl it's also so good for me to just write one-offs and ficlets and prompts every once in a while!!#A PALLTETTE CLEANSERRR #also spoiler alert if jack is not pining then ELSA IS THE ONE PINING LMAO

117 notes · View notes

unclewaynemunson · 2 years

Text

Pt2 to this post is here 🤗 | AO3 link

When Eddie stumbles out of his room the next day, still half asleep and purposefully headed towards the coffee machine, he notices a crumpled piece of paper on the table. He frowns when he sees it's the note he tossed in the trash a day earlier. It's folded open again, and there's a mysterious, slightly gross looking stain on it, but the number is still clearly readable.

He takes a good few seconds to stare at the digits, written neatly with a blue ballpoint, as if the guy was doing his very best to make sure that none of the numbers would be unreadable. He can't believe that Wayne is invested enough in this to get the note out of the trash for Eddie, even though Eddie already made more than clear how utterly uninterested he is in this Steve person. He shrugs, crumples the note back up again, and tosses it back into the trash.

It goes on like that for a while: every time Eddie wakes up or gets back home, the number is staring at him from the table, only to be crumpled in Eddie's fist again and again and again. Neither Wayne nor Eddie say anything about it; it becomes a tacid game of who can be the most stubborn, and they both know that both of them can keep that up for a very long time. Eddie knows he could just tear it up, or burn it, or poetically bury it at the base of a tree at the edge of the woods outside the trailer. But something's stopping him. It isn't the guy, or even the idea of the guy – he's sure as hell that this Steve wouldn't be for him at all. No, it's the memory of the look on Wayne's face after he gave Eddie the number, all excited and proud of himself. It's the knowledge of how immensely lucky he is to have an uncle like that, who supports him and loves him exactly the way he is, even actively wants him to be happy with another man. It's the flash of disappointment that crossed Wayne's face that first time Eddie made a whole show of throwing the note away. That's the reason he eventually, after almost a whole week of moving the note from trashcan to table and back again, finds himself standing at the phone with the piece of paper in his hand. The note has become truly disgusting by now, with all kinds of unrecognizable smudges on it, but thanks to Steve's clear handwriting, Eddie can still read all the digits.

It doesn't take long before 'Steve Harrington' picks up the horn on the other side.

'Hey, um, this is Eddie,' Eddie says, suddenly feeling awkward about the whole thing and wondering if he should've thought through what he was about to say to Steve. 'You met my uncle at a baseball game, last weekend?'

'Oh!' Steve sounds surprised. 'Eddie! Yeah, yes I did – Wayne, right?'

'Hmhm.'

'I didn't really expect a call anymore, to be honest,' Steve says.

'Yeah, sorry 'bout that,' says Eddie. 'Listen, to be honest, I'm not calling because I actually think this is gonna be something. From what I heard – not to sound like a dick or anything, I'm sure you're perfectly nice and all that – you just, totally don't sound like my type, you know? But my uncle won't drop it, and it'd probably make my life a whole lot easier if I could just prove to him that not every random queer guy he meets is a good match for me, so... Do you wanna meet up for coffee sometime? We can establish what a terrible match we are, I'll pay for your drinks, and then we can move on with our lives without any gnawing guilt or “what if”s playing around in our minds, and we'll never have to think about each other again. How does that sound?'

'Um...' There's a pause of a couple of seconds on the other side of the line, then a small sigh. 'I guess the free coffee sounds good?' It sounds more like a question than a statement, and suddenly, Eddie feels a bit stupid about the whole thing.

'I'm sorry,' he blurts out. 'I totally get it if it's not really what you expected of this. You met my uncle, and I know he's pretty awesome, and, like, wildly attractive and stuff, but if you expect me to be like him – that's not at all what I'm like, you know. So it'll probably be good for both of us to get that out of the way. To establish that we are not at all attracted to each other and happily move on.'

'Yeah, yeah, sure,' says Steve. 'Sounds good. I can't wait to find out what a terrible match you are for me.'

Eddie is relieved to hear the guy softly chuckling.

Pt3 Seriously the response to this silly lil AU has been sooo lovely, thank all of you so much for your kind words and hilarious tags, it made my day 🥹 Altogether the whole thing will probably get to +/-7 parts, so if you feel like that’s a bit much to keep following, please don’t feel awkward about telling me you’d like to be removed from the taglist, I don't wanna spam anyone!

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon

#yes eddie is an idiot I don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #steddie #stranger things #fruity ficlet

1K notes · View notes

redflagshipwriter · 7 months

Text

Reassembly 5

Masterpost

(What the frick is the bat guy about???)

They did serious damage to Lexy’s credit card in the form of a cast iron pan, a pot, basic cooking utensils and a four-person set of dishware before they even made it to the grocery store.

Peter tried not to go nuts there. He really did. But Kon had that empty kitchen! And to be honest, shopping was major wish fulfillment. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be eating all of the food he got way into it. They stocked up on easy freezer food like pizza rolls and fries. They got pasta mixes and jarred sauces and they got snacks and sweets. He even got Kon baking basics. It might take Kon a while to get into his fresh bread era, but it was going to happen. Peter was calling it now. Kon was just that kind of guy.

The last thing he got was meat. Meat and cheese and fresh vegetables. Peter ended up putting back half of what he initially put in the cart because, honestly, Kon didn’t have a massive super appetite and he didn’t know how to cook yet. Vegetables were just going to go bad, so he only got what he planned to use that night. He also stocked Kon up on breakfast supplies- bread and jam, eggs, sausage, coffee and tea and juice.

‘I wish I was staying with Kon to eat this. I’m going to be hungry again tomorrow.’

Peter pushed down that greedy little thought where it belonged. He was going to be eating lunch and dinner with Kon tonight, since they were cooking together. That was already really generous on Kon’s part. He couldn’t ask for more.

The boys ended up making spaghetti. Peter wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he could cut onion and garlic to cook meat in, shred in carrots and zucchini, and add a jar of red sauce to make something nutritionally dense that tasted really good. Kon hovered over his shoulder watching this process and making faux sports commentary.

“Go away!” Peter shoved Kon with his shoulder, laughing. “Go start the garlic bread.”

“...Garlic bread?” Kon asked hopefully. He seemed way younger than he was sometimes. “You can make that at home?”

“You can, if you get to cutting garlic really small.” Peter tossed him a bulb without looking.

They ate dinner while watching some drama that Kon picked out on a streaming service. “Holy shit,” Kon said quietly after his first bite. He put down the plate and took a photo.

Peter snorted. Kon must have sent it to someone because his phone went off constantly after that.

He wasn’t even done eating their late lunch when he first wondered where he was going to sleep tonight. Peter stared down into his pasta like it might have some answers. When should he leave? What would he say if Kon asked for his phone number? He didn’t have one. He couldn’t give Kon the number to the phone he had on him– he was pretty sure that he really should get rid of it in case someone was tracking him.

He should ask first. If he directed the conversation it would be easier to be normal than if he was just answering questions. So Peter swallowed hard, made himself smile, and said, “This was fun. Wanna hang out again?”

Kon noisily slurped down some sauce and wiggled in place while he chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, we should!” he agreed. “You uh, free later this week?”

He was jobless and homeless with no other acquaintances.

“I have some time,” Peter said casually. “I’m kinda busy tomorrow, but the day after? Should I come over in the afternoon?”

“Yeah!” Kon bounced up off his seat for a moment. “We can finish the projects. Or work on them, at least.” He screwed his face up with a thought. “Can I get your handle or number, in case my work pops up?”

Peter’s smile turned fixed. “Actually, not now,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I dropped my phone in water. I just have my Dad’s old phone right now for emergencies.” He didn’t need to add that lie, but what if he needed to pull out the flip phone later? He didn’t want Kon to think that he just hadn’t wanted to give his number.

Kon laughed. “That sucks, man,” he empathized.

Oh thank Thor, he bought it.

The fabric was dry by then, so Peter helped Kon cut it out and sew it into place. Kon modeled his new look in the living room and then took approximately two hundred selfies while Peter worked on his project. Kon eventually flopped down on the sofa upside down and started sketching out design ideas. Peter glanced over and saw what looked like a boob window cut into some kind of top.

…Kon would look great in it. Peter didn’t comment. He smiled a little more when he went back to cutting out pieces for his own jacket.

“Smile!”

Peter looked over on reflex and cheesed. A shutter went off. “Can I send that to my friends?” Kon asked, so casually that Peter knew it mattered a lot. “Cassie says no way did I meet someone without her.”

“Go ahead.” Peter gave a thumbs up for reasons even he did not understand. Good thing he wasn’t a weird little guy!

Kon looked relieved. There was less tension when he went back to looking at his phone. “Thanks, man. You want to think about dinner soon? You’ve been working for a couple of hours.”

Peter had to blink a few times to process that. Oh yeah, he was pretty stiff. He stretched experimentally. “You’re right,” he said, mildly surprised. “Huh. What did you have in mind?”

Kon shrugged. “Pizza?”

Peter hummed. “We can pull that off,” he decided. “We have… two more jars of marinara, one will do. Cheese, the bell peppers- yeah, that’ll work.” He stood in a smooth movement. “Could you get the flour down from where we put it- yeah, thanks.” Kon hovered back down and handed him the bag.

“I meant that we should order it,” Kon said, but he didn’t protest. “You can make pizza? At home?” He was delighted by this new information.

“You can make basically anything at home,” Peter said, because it apparently needed to be said. “Can you look up a pizza dough recipe?” He got out the salt and tried to remember where he’d put yeast.

Pizza did not go quite as smoothly as the pasta had. Kon brutalized the dough by over mixing it and the gluten developed bonds strong enough to rival the Hulk. But it was still edible! Kon was openly delighted with what he had made. Peter stole sideways glances at him, wondering if he should reassure that it was a great first try.

‘..I’m not sure he knows that it’s really tough,’ Peter decided. He said nothing. They watched one episode of Kon’s selected drama before Peter decided it was time to go.

Kon seemed surprised when Peter said that. He blinked at him a few times. “It felt like I was at the tow- a sleepover,” he said self consciously. He forced a laugh. “Yeah. You wanna leave your stuff here?”

Peter looked around Kon’s surgically clean living room and wondered if Lexy’s cleaning staff would throw away his stuff. “Yeah, sure,” he said, because it wasn’t like he had a place to store a project. “I appreciate that.”

He left not much later, making his excuses and backing out into the night with dread that he didn’t want to face curling in his gut. The feeling intensified as he got down to the lobby of Kon’s apartment building.

It was dark out, even with the streetlights on. The air was cold against his face. Peter huddled into his jacket, hand wound tightly around the strap of the bag with everything he owned in it.

At least he knew the time. It was a little past 10 pm.

He needed a shower and to sleep. The gym should be empty now. He could break back in, shower, and then go sleep on the library couch again. Even if the librarian came in early again, he could get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up again to the sound of keys in the door downstairs. This time he woke up feeling much better rested. Peter wandered blearily until he found a clocktower and realized it was nearly 9 am. Nice. He was working on his sleep debt, then. He surely hadn’t spent more than an hour between traveling to the gym, showering, and getting to the couch last night. That was maybe 9.5, 10 hours of sleep?

He left to a new hotel for a breakfast buffet. This one was particularly sad. He had two pieces of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk before he heard the front door staff quietly phone someone else asking if they had any teenagers staying at the moment. He left pretty quickly after that and walked for a while, heart pounding. The police didn’t descend on him with sirens and lights, so he was probably okay.

‘I can’t go back there.’

Later that day, Peter grimaced and took a moment to indulge in burying his face in his hands. He was overwhelmed and he still felt shitty and dirty and gross despite his shower. Maybe it was getting spotted as a homeless teen eating from the buffet? Yeah. Probably that.

He was in the library again, sitting in front of one of the older computers and hoping he'd get a reply from a potential client who had asked for some information.

Maybe it was a little weird to spend all day in the library. He was on notice for librarians acting like they wanted him to clear out, just in case.

But, assuming no one had any problems with it, why not spend most of his daylight hours there? He could study computer science, use the computers to do his work, and be somewhere temperature controlled for free. They also had pitchers of coffee and tea for free that he took advantage of.

He was hungry, though. He was always hungry. Maybe it had been a mistake to go to Kon’s house. It almost felt worse to be hungry again after eating everything he wanted two meals in a row. Peter suppressed despair. He was doing his best! He was taking care of himself.

"Is everything alright?"

Peter shot up and gave a sheepish grin to the librarian. He hadn't noticed her approaching, but he'd been lost in his head. "It's fine," he said.

The older woman gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can help with. It's what I'm here for."

Oh. Before she could turn away he blurted out, "College!"

Her face lit up. "Are you applying?"

"I need to." Peter wrung his hands together. "But I don't know where to start. I want to go somewhere with a strong sciences program but I think I need to go there on scholarship."

She sat down beside him, an easy smile on her face like this was a topic that she enjoyed. “Do you care about where it is?”

Peter shook his head. “It would be best if I could stay in NYC since I know here, but I’m willing to go anywhere that meets those conditions.”

She nodded slowly. “There’s a few places I can think of.” She hesitated. “Do you expect to be eligible for testing related scholarships?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, who was so good at tests but would probably falsify the results that he needed if he didn’t manage to take tests in time. “I test well. Very well.”

“That’s great! And you said sciences? Technological sciences?” she didn’t glance at his current computer science book, but she didn’t have to.

“Yes,” he said, not entirely sure what he should be focusing on. Engineering, to build some kind of portal? Astrophysics like Dr. Foster, to find an Einstein-Rosen bridge? He’d have to get his foot in the door to figure out what was going on in the fields here. Shit, he should have looked into that already.

“And you would be looking to live by yourself, on campus? Or off? With family?”

“By myself,” Peter said, and wow that was depressing. “And whichever way is cheapest.” He cringed as he said it. That felt pathetic too. He wanted to say he wanted to live on campus since he’d be more likely to meet people that way. But honestly, he had no resources, at all. He couldn’t afford to be picky.

The librarian’s smile was a bit fixed now. “I… I almost hate to suggest it, but have you considered Gotham?” She continued before Peter had to decide whether or not he should admit he didn’t know that university. “It’s a dangerous city to live in, but it’s very affordable, and there’s extensive funding for the sciences and student support services.”

“...Because it’s a dangerous city and doesn’t get many people?” Peter confirmed.

She was doing her best to keep a poker face. “That’s right. They have a brain drain situation at the moment, so the sciences are really well funded. I think you could probably go there with full support, though that might be contingent on taking an internship or job in Gotham after graduation.”

Huh. He considered it. He’d never heard of Gotham, so it had to be a city that didn’t exist back home. But so what? How bad could it be? It was like, Chicago or something? He could handle that. He was Spiderman. He was an Avenger, sort of. So he directed a real smile at the librarian. “If I could get a full scholarship there, I would go in a heartbeat,” Peter said. “Thanks for the suggestion! I’ll look into the university there.”

The librarian patted the side of his chair as she stood up. “Wonderful! Let me know if you change your mind or have any questions!”

He ended up having a lot of questions, actually, once he started looking into Gotham, but he didn’t think, “What the frick is the vampire bat guy about?” was what she’d had in mind.

#red reassembly #marvel dc crossover #kon el kent #peter parker #dark matter inspired

45 notes · View notes

sunboki · 1 year

Note

hi august!! i have a request for your 2k celebration ☺️

my love language is a tie between of words of affirmation & physical touch! could you write a short fluffy drabble of chan & i? ✨💗

thank youuuuuu & congratulations again love!!! 🥰

christopher bahng x f. reader

word count . 462 words

notes . hi clover! i got a little carried away while working on this wiry how fun and heartwarming it was *sigh* .. anyway, thank you so much for the endless support dearest, please have an amazing day!!

— event masterlist

hey, where are you? i went to visit, but you weren’t in your room

“weren’t in your room” meaning not where he could spot you after climbing along your roof to your windowsill — something he usually did on school nights when his parents were sleep, where he’d slip into your room and you would talk and talk and talk some more because speaking to chris was refreshing and lively and fun. it’s hard having fun when you’re so busy all the time, so chan is your buoy.

i’m in the park, needed some fresh air

it’s true that you’re in desperate need of good oxygen without any sense avoiding him. why would you — you literally glare at your window each night, waiting to see his silhouette. nothing has changed that .. apart from certain circumstances.

“i didn't know you hated me that much. can i sit?” his sarcasm peeked it’s head into your gloominess, adding a little humor to the once sullen atmosphere. you pray he didn’t notice you nearly jumping as his voice alarmingly sounded through the silent darkness.

rhetorically, he takes a seat beside you on the rickety wooden bench and you’re silently thanking him for keeping his questions to himself for a moment.

your lined notebook sitting loosely in hand was scattered with senseless bullet points — one of which you shied away from his view. he didn’t mind.

a simple gesture, his hand landing on top of yours that has your eyes beginning to fill with hot tears, overflowing and painting your cheeks an inflamed-red glow. except you’re already a bit too overwhelmed to worry about composure and pride. the regret will come later.

“i’m not- i’m not good enough for this, i’m not cut out to be what i’ve always wanted to be chan and it’s killing me. i just wanna give up..”

he’s quick to pull your fists away from furiously rubbing your face raw first, staring up at the sky while you ugly sob beside him.

“you’ve always been capable of it, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it this far. you’re much smarter, amazing, determined, and all the things i love about you than you think you are, so don’t for a second think you want to give up.”

you’re sniffing frantically, billowing quieted cries instead when chan reaches towards you, cradling your face in his palms that forced you to look up at those warm, charismatic brown eyes — landing a heart-wrenchingly sweet kiss on the tip of your nose.

“we’re in this together, okay sweetheart?”

it’s true, and you feel stupid for not acknowledging it. because while you were sinking deeper into misery you’d completely forgotten your other half, chris, the other half that got you through anything as long as he was by your side.

161 notes · View notes

mochie85 · 1 year

Text

To Have and To Hold - Chapter 6

THaTH Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki finds Violet. Will they be reunited? A/N: I wanna thank @lokisgoodgirl for being my BETA and @michelleleewise for all the wonderful ideas. You two are the absolute best! 🥰 Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: Over 2K Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

There was a frenzied knock on your door that put you on high alert. You grabbed the small dagger you kept by your nightstand as you slowly made your way to the front. “Violet, I know you’re in there. It’s me. Open up!”

You raced to the lock, trying to open the door as quickly as you could. “Rhodey, what’s wrong? What are you doing here?” you asked puzzled. You hadn’t seen Rhodey in two months. Not since that video call where you asked him where your brother was stationed and if he could connect the two of you together.

“Just got a call from Cap. The Cap. Says one of the jets went missing. And the flight chart says they’re heading straight here. Now, one Avenger wanting to see her dear brother, I can believe. But three more coming this way after your supposed ‘holiday?’ What’s going on Vee?”

Three? “I-I can’t. Rhodey, please don’t tell him I’m here!” you said holding onto your stomach.

“Him? Him who?” Rhodey looked down at your figure. You could see the wheel of questions turning in his head before he let out a breath a decided it would be better if he didn’t know. “You need to hide then. Now.”

“O-ok,” you nodded.

“Lock all the doors and don’t come out till either Callum or I get you. You got that?” He instructed. You nodded your head. Your eyes followed his retreating figure onto the Humvee and he sped off. You latched every lock and turned every deadbolt you could.

You leaned on the door, sliding down to the floor as tears welled up in your eyes. He was finally coming for you. Would he be mad? Happy? You had wanted to call him every day. You wanted to talk to him, but every time you picked up the phone, you just remembered his angry cold eyes and the betrayal in his voice. You didn’t think you could live seeing or hearing that again.

You took out his note, the one that you always kept with you and prayed that he wouldn’t find you here. Because if he did, if he found out you had lied about your child, that hatred in his eyes would be cemented in them forever. Every time you would look into his deep eyes and see the pain and loathing in them, you would die a little each time. And you knew there was no way you could live like that.

The jet’s engine hummed for the past five hours. Loki sat there as patiently as he could, feeling the vibration of the aircraft, letting it soothe his anxious mind. What would he say to you? How could he convince you to come back home? To him?

“It would be past midnight when we land in a half hour. Have you gotten any rest?” Bruce asked through the headphones in the cockpit.

“I can’t sleep, Bruce. Not till I know she’s all right.” Bruce simply nodded.

“We would need clearance. Just because we’re the Avengers doesn’t mean we can barge into an American military base without cause.”

“We do have cause!” Loki argued.

“Not one that’s important in the eyes of the government. Or sanctioned for that matter.” Loki huffed his annoyance. He is getting inside that base, and no one is going to stop him. “Let me speak with the Lt. Colonel in charge before you barge in, OK?” Bruce pleaded.

Not long after, the jet was given special permission to land inside the base. Bruce, Thor, and Loki stepped out to a small battalion of armed soldiers. Heavy artillery aimed at the three men as they walked down the gangplank. Their hands raised in surrender.

“Rhodey? What is all this?” Bruce asked as he made his way to Lt. Colonel Rhodes.

“I’m wondering the same thing, Bruce. I was in Germany when I was told to get my butt over here because you three would be landing here in a few short hours. In a stolen jet, no less!”

“Borrowed!” Thor corrected.

“I was also told that HE does not have the authorization to leave American soil, let alone New York,” Rhodes pointed to Loki.

“We’re looking for Agent Moreau,” Loki yelled out.

“And what makes you think she’s here? Last I heard, she went AWOL after…” a stolen beat. Silence had entered Rhodes’ mind as he tried to decide what to say.

“After what, Colonel?” Loki demanded. From the corner of his eye, Loki noticed someone familiar. The same large eyes and facial structure as Violet. Callum. Loki watched as he exited the vehicle he was sitting in to get a closer look. When he noticed who had arrived on base, he took a big sigh and slowly started to make his way back to the civilian row, where you were.

“Why do you need her? If she’s even here that is.”

“That is none of your concern Colonel,” Loki yelled.

“Rhodey we just want to speak to her and then be on our way,” Bruce added.

“She’s not here,” Rhodey said. “I suggest you get back on that jet and go back to New York, gentlemen.”

“Lies!” Loki yelled. “You know where she is. And so does he!” Loki pointed to Callum who stopped and froze in his escape.

“Colonel Rhodes, we mean no harm. All we want is to set some things straight with Agent Moreau. Then we’ll be on our way.” Thor tried. “Would you deny us council with one of our trusted teammates?”

“Uh-huh, sure. Bruce, what is this really about? Why did you bring the smash brothers here on my base?” Rhodey asked.

“What else would this be about Rhodey? Loki came here to talk to Violet. He risked his ‘parole’ so he could see her!”

“To talk? That’s why you, The Hulk, are here? And why Lord of Thunder is here too?” Rhodey said disbelievingly.

“Would you rather I not be here to look after my brother?” Thor said impatiently.

Loki had kept an eye on Callum. Watching him retreat backward ever so slightly. Go on rabbit, lead me to where she is, he thought. Loki watched from the corner of his eye, as Callum took off to warn Violet of his arrival.

“I will do what I came here to do, and none of you can stop me.”

“Loki,” Thor warned.

“And what exactly did you come here to do?” Colonel Rhodes yelled. Loki disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared not too far away. Whenever he materialized he ran in between soldiers and avoided hits and gunshots before he would disappear again making it hard to catch him.

He followed Callum as fast as he could as he lead Loki down a small street with bungalows on either side. It was a small neighborhood of civilian housing for active-duty personnel and the families that stay with them. She’s here. In one of these houses. I just know it. “Violet!”

Soldiers gathered behind him. Bruce, Rhodes, and Thor leading the way.

“Violet! Violet, Where are you?” Loki yelled out. His time was short. He needed to find her quickly. By now he’s sure that the Colonel has alerted the Captain. In turn, he would’ve alerted Asgard.

“Darling, please,” his voice resonated throughout your body. Like the deep toll of a church steeple beckoning you home. You hadn’t heard his voice in months. You hadn’t felt that richness, the depth of pain and history. You heard the sorrow and longing in his timbre, and you ached to go to him and comfort him.

You shut your eyes, hoping that this nightmare isn’t happening. That it’ll go away if you squint just hard enough and not listen.

“Loki! I’m warning you to stop this instant or I will be forced to use drastic measures!” You heard Rhodey say.

“Violet!” Loki yelled as he passed your window. You looked through the slit of the curtains onto the street. Loki stopped and turned. As if he knew where you were. As if a rope was tied between you two and he felt it recoil, pulling him back to you.

“Loki Laufeyson. You are hereby under arrest for unlawful trespassing, violation of your parole in New York, and disobeying orders from your superiors.”

“I am a prince of Asgard and the rightful king of Jotunheim. I AM THE SUPERIOR!” Loki growled. You heard shouting and a scuffle ensue. If they weren’t careful, they could all get hurt. You know how strong a rampage Loki could get in if he wasn’t careful. All these people would be injured if you didn’t do anything soon.

“STOP!” you cried out banging the door open. “Stop! Please.” You saw a whole crowd of soldiers gathered around Loki, standing in the center. Their guns pointed in his direction. Loki’s outstretched arms ready for battle as his seidr smoked out of his hands.

“Violet…” he whispered. His eyes were tired and sunken. His cheeks had gotten sharper and more defined. He hadn’t been taking good care of himself and it showed. But even with all the grief and agony written on his face, he was still the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

His eyes held onto yours as he watched you make your way through the crowd. A huff of relief escaped him, and he almost cried with joy at having seen your face again.

He noted how you had looked more radiant. More voluptuous as you made your way past the guards. There was a brightness in your eyes and a glow on your skin that he craved to touch.

Two things happened simultaneously. The first was your brother, Callum, holding his arm out to stop you from getting closer. As you reached the front, Loki took in your whole figure. Including the prominent bump that was now exposed for him to see.

The second was Colonel Rhodes using Loki’s momentary distraction to place magic-dampening cuffs on his wrist.

“Vi…Violet?” You could see Loki’s eyes, cold and confused. Thoughts flickered past his mind as he tried to assess what was happening. You were still pregnant?! But how?! “How?” His eyes squinted and his breath lashed as he watched you hold on to the precious life that was growing in your belly.

“Loki, you know the rules. You can’t just march in here like you own the place.” You could barely hear Rhodey and the monologue he was saying. He was reiterating what would happen if Loki were to ever step out of line.

You kept your eyes on Loki as his eyes darted up and down your body. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him as you started crying. You didn’t want him to find out like this. “I’m so sorry.”

The last thing that happened that night was something Loki didn’t anticipate happening so soon. He thought that he would at least have a day with you to reconcile. But The Fates work in more mysterious ways than he can foresee because the last thing Loki saw was you screaming for them to let him go.

“No! You can’t do that!” you screamed as your brother held on to you. “Let him go, please!” You began to sob.

More tears. More heartache. Loki had had enough. He didn’t want to see you like that again. He wanted to run to you. Comfort you. Tell you that everything was going to be ok.

But instead, a spectral light shone down on him, keeping him in place. Loki looked up confused. Everything was happening so much more quickly than he wanted.

Looking back down, he spotted you again in the crowd, “Wait for me. I’ll come back for you.”

“No, Loki. Please, stay. I’m sorry,” you cried. “This is all my fault. My fault,” you held on to Callum, trying to convince Colonel Rhodes. “Please don’t do this. Don’t let them take him.” Your breath hitched and hiccupped. The pain in your chest was all-encompassing and tearing at your heart.

“I love you,” Loki mimed before he was taken by the Bifrost, back to Asgard.

⬅️ Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 ➡️

🏷️ @emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie

162 notes · View notes

stitchdfox · 1 year

Text

Cross posting from my Twitter fan account!

Eddie’s on Tour pt 1

Eddie can’t remember the last time he tapped out first from a night of celebrating with the band post show. Sure, they were only on the third show of the tour they, by some miracle, booked to open for A Day To Remember. It felt like a fever dream.

His head was swimming with excitement from the exposure of playing with a legit band. They had only ever played at local bars like the Hide Out and that one time they played Battle of the Bands in Indy. It’s crazy the last show of tour will be at the House of Blues in Chicago.

Eddie had to figure out a way to make it through the tour without vibrating out of his skin.

So, here he was, half drunk and spiraling in the van. Thanks to his favorite crop top his back stuck to the vinyl of the middle bench he deemed the best place to suffer.

“Goddamnit,“ he sighs as he shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He opens his contacts and selects /Uncle/ and clicks the speaker icon before dropping the phone on his chest.

As it rings Eddie realizes how late it must be in Indiana and thinks about just ending the call when—

“Hellooo?” The voice says on the other end.

“You’re not Wayne” he sputters out.

“You’re right.” The voice is deep but sweet somehow.

“Why are you on my uncle’s phone?” Eddie is so confused.

“I’m not, actually.”

“Shit.”

Wayne had a new number from when he moved out of the old trailer.

“I’m an idiot,” Eddie whispers. The new number was under /Wayne/. He’d have to write the old man, like he promised, and tell him about the mix up. He’ll find it funny—

“You okay over there, stranger?” The voice asked.

Eddie had gone silent, lost in his thoughts.

“That’s a loaded question, sweetheart.” Eddie drummed his fingers on his bare midriff.

“That’s fair. Why don’t you start with why you were calling Wayne?” The man on the other end of the phone urged him on.

“Why the hell not?” Eddie hums. “I guess, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Hmm.” There’s a sudden clatter of dishes. “Shit.”

“You okay over there?” Eddie holds in a laugh.

“Fine. It’s fine.”

“Are you doing dishes? Oh my god. I’ve called a complete stranger and I’ve interrupted his chores. You were probably busy cleaning up after you made dinner for you and your lady friend. She’s patiently waiting for you to join her for the movie you settled on but you’re that weirdo that insists on doing the dishes right away.” Eddie rubs his hands down his face.

A sharp laugh comes through the phone. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Hardly.” Eddie sighs. “Look man, I’m sorry I interrupted. I’ll let you go.”

“Wait.” The response was quick and Eddie could swear there was a pinch of desperation. The man continues. “I mean… uh. I don’t mind. See I just… um. I wouldn’t mind the company is all I’m saying.”

Eddie couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face anymore than the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“Well then… Hi.”

“Hi.” The man chuckles on the other end. “Wanna tell me why you’re overwhelmed then?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” Eddie isn’t sure he’s ready to dive into this deep rooted fear of failure with a complete stranger. Nice enough as he seems, it would be weird, right?

“I’ve got the time.”

There’s silence from both of them for a three count.

“Fine. I’m in a band.” Eddie pauses.

The man on the other end hums.

“We have only really played dive bars and Battle of the Bands type shit before, right? And I’m convinced one of the other guys made a deal with the devil to get us here, touring as the openers for one of our favorite bands. We’re three days into this tour and I can’t even enjoy it because I’m waiting for the fallout or to wake up from this dream and I can’t stop wondering when they’re gonna pull the rug out from under us. You know?”

“Sounds like you don’t see how amazing you really are then.” The man’s voice is so soothing, motherly almost. “Clearly this favorite band of yours saw something in you. They probably started out just the way you did. Give yourself some credit here, man.”

Eddie swallows back tears. “You don’t even know me though. I’m the freak, the fuck up. I…” he sighs. “Why do they think I can do this?”

“I dunno. It’s not just you though. You’ve got your bandmates with you. Don’t you believe in them?”

“Of course!”

“Don’t you trust them?” The man asks.

“With my life.”

“Then reel it in a bit. I’m sure they need you as much as you need them right now.” The man’s tone goes low. “Trust it.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Oh, I know I’m right.” There’s a smile in the man’s voice.

“Cocky, cocky. Wish I had your confidence.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Shit. I’ve got call.

“I can let you go, man.” Eddie couldn’t mask his disappointment in letting the stranger off the line.

“No! No. Sorry. It’ll be a quick call. I’ll be back.” There’s a lull. “I promise.”

The phone beeps and Eddie is left with a faint static sound and his buzzing thoughts. This is absolutely not where he thought he’d be after the show tonight. There’s something about being on stage and the confidence he has in himself when he’s performing, but the second the lights go down and their gear is packed up, he feels like an imposter. Maybe the stranger was right, maybe he just can’t see what everyone else does. Maybe–

“You still there?” The man comes back on the line.

“Yeah. I– Still here.” Eddie covers his face, embarrassed.

“My friend needs a ride and I’m the designated driver it seems. I gotta go, but I…” there’s a soft huff, Eddie can almost feel the warmth of the breath, “I’d like to chat again. I mean, uh, if you’d like to. I figure the tour could get lonely? But now that I say that I realize you have so much happening and so many people there and fans to meet and this is probably dumb and–”

“Hey now. I’m the one that’s supposed to be spiraling tonight. You can spiral the next time, okay?” Eddie chuckles.

“Next time?” The hopeful sound of the man’s voice was all Eddie needed.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Eddie coos. “Next time.”

“I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Eddie.”

“Can’t wait. I’ll talk to you soon, Eddie.”

The line dies before Eddie can make a bigger fool of himself.

There’s a ruckus outside and he jumps as the rest of the band topple into the van.

“Are we sleeping in the parking lot tonight, fellas?” Eddie asks.

They all grumble. —

Part 2 on the way. You can catch up on Twitter if you’re impatient enough. Ha!

#Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #steddie #modern AU #idiots to lovers #cross posting from my twitter #eventual smut

57 notes · View notes

aeoki · 1 month

Text

Number Eight - Take a Chance: Chapter 5

Characters: Rinne, HiMERU, Kohaku & Niki Location: Los Angeles Townscape

TL Note:

In Japan, the legal age for drinking is 20 years old.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Half an hour later. >

Niki: Thanks a bunch, mister!

We’re not here to deliver chilli dogs, but thanks for taking the photo for us ♪

Rinne: We had to hold up chilli dogs in exchange, but we’ve finally finished our mission.

Oh, the screen’s showing “Reward GET!”. What kinda reward is it?

A credit card with three hundred dollars in it, huh. Looks like that should be enough to pay for your meals.

You should be grateful, eh, Niki~? The staff are being considerate and making sure you don’t die of starvation ♪

Niki: What’s with that snide remark…?

Rinne: But it’s the truth. How many chilli dogs did you just eat? We’re totally over budget, ya know?

Niki: Ugh… I–I guess that’s true.

Kohaku: We should save some for emergencies since we’ll be needin’ it for the rest of the show.

HiMERU: HiMERU agrees with Oukawa. We’re travelling in an unfamiliar land, so it would be best to have a little more than necessary.

Anyway, we don’t have time to be chatting like this. Let’s check the next mission and get another clue for our goal.

Who will roll the dice next? Shiina and Amagi have already done it once, so it should either be HiMERU or Oukawa next.

Kohaku: Alright. I’ll roll it then.

Our next mission is… “Give a review on the local specialities”?

Hmm~ Sounds like a pretty common mission… I wish I rolled somethin’ better.

HiMERU-han, you mentioned all those crazy things about “Number Eight”, but I suppose the show really has mellowed out in this era.

HiMERU: …………

Kohaku: HiMERU-han?

HiMERU: Well, HiMERU also thinks it’s somewhat disappointing since the missions are so easy.

I get confused every time I compare it to “The Minotaur’s Labyrinth”.

That recklessness I felt after the parachuting in the beginning has been suppressed, and it feels like a collar has been placed on “Crazy:B”.

Don’t you think so, Amagi?

Rinne: Me? Nah, not really.

…Oh. I get it, I get it ♪

“‘Crazy:B’ is a totally wild unit! Doin’ what the higher-ups tell us to do ain’t ‘Crazy:B’ at all!” That’s what you wanna say, right~?

Gyahaha, looks like Merumeru’s gotten more bold! So you’re “Crazy:B’s” biggest supporter!

HiMERU: Who are you calling who’s supporter?

…Either way, I wonder if it’s all just HiMERU’s needless fear.

Usually, you’re the first person to question those sorts of things, so seeing as you’ve not said anything, then HiMERU has nothing to say.

Alright then, let’s get on with our next mission and buy some “local specialties”. Shall we ask the locals what they recommend?

Niki: Yeah~ Should we ask the man who took the photo for us?

He was drinking in broad daylight, so I’m not sure if we’ll be able to get a proper answer out of him, though.

Kohaku: Well, he seems friendly so it might be worth a shot.

I wouldn’t know how to respond if he gives me alcohol recommendations, but surely, he wouldn’t do that to a minor[⁎].

Rinne: …Oh, go on ahead without me. I’ve gotta take care of somethin’!

Niki: ? What’s up, Rinne-kun…?

Are you trying to ditch because you think going around talking to people is a pain in the neck? If that’s true, then I won’t forgive you!

Rinne: Oi, oi. We’ve known each other for a long time, so you know what’s up, right~? I’m going to the bathroom.

So good luck with the mission! Laters!

Niki: Hey, wait, Rinne-kun! Don’t just go off on your own!

…Geez, he’s such a handful. I bet he just lied about going to the toilet just so he could ditch.

HiMERU: Hm, I wonder how true that is.

Amagi was raised from a young age to be the next leader of his village. I think his sense of responsibility that stems from the environment he was raised in affects his actions in “Number Eight”.

Kohaku: Yeah. He’s been like that since “MDM”– no, since a long time ago.

The revival of this show was supposed to be a big deal, but the reality is that they’ve removed the poison and made things more safe. I wonder if Rinne-han has some ideas.

Niki: Hm~ Who knows?

It’s true that “Number Eight” is kinda boring and feels like any average TV show, but I think Rinne-kun would still enjoy it some way or another.

That’s why I definitely think he’s ditching! I could even bet ten dollars on it!

Rinne: No take-backs, Niki. Thanks for the 10 bucks ♪

Niki: Woah, what the–!?

Rinne: Oi, oi. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are ya looking pale ‘cause I found you ditching?

Or did you guys feel lonely without me, so you waited for me to come outta the bathroom? ♪

HiMERU: No. We were worried something might’ve happened to you, Amagi.

Rinne: Gyahaha. It definitely doesn’t make me happy seeing you guys worry ‘bout me. Let’s get back to work ♪

Niki: That’s the last thing I want to hear from you.

Rinne: Come on, enough chit-chat – we don’t have time for this!

Let’s get this mission over and done with, and then we’ll enjoy a trip across America ☆

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#number eight

7 notes · View notes

specialagentlokitty · 2 years

Text

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - in your corner

A/N: this is for all you peoples going through mock exams and such rn! You can do this! And a bit of comfort for me cause I wanted some Evershed comfort 💜

Leg bouncing up and down, you twisted the pen between your fingers as you stared at the paper in front of you.

As you stared at the words on the page, you felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety wash over you, and the words didn’t make any sense anymore.

Looking at the clock, you turned back to your papers, it had only been half an hour and the mock exam didn’t end for another hour and fifteen minutes. The total running times was an hour and forty five minutes, but it felt like it had been centuries.

You tried flicking through the questions like you were told to do, but it was useless and you finally gave up, closing the booklet you rested your head on your arms and closed your eyes.

A few minutes later there was a tapping sound on your desk and you looked up.

Mr evershed was crouched at the said on the desk, resting his arms on the edge as he tapped the paper under yours arms.

“That must be the fastest someone’s ever completed the exam.” He chuckled.

You said nothing and went back to resting your head in your arms.

“(Y/N)?“ the teacher asked.

“I haven’t done it…” you mumbled.

“Can I have a look?” He asked.

You shrugged and lifted your arms for him to take the papers and flick through them.

Thankfully you were at the back of the hall and no one could see but you were still getting more and more anxious and worked up as the moments ticked by.

“(Y/N) you know this stuff, I know you do.” Mr Evershed sighed.

“I don’t… sir I don’t understand any of it…”

Sitting up, you leant back in your chair doing anything to avoid the gaze of the teacher holding the exam papers.

“Why haven’t you tried to answer them?” He asked softly.

“Because I thought sleeping was more fun obviously.” You snapped slightly.

Mr Evershed set the papers down on your desk and gave you a disapproving look.

“All I’m asking is you try, here.”

He crouched down and opened a page and pointed to the question.

“I know you know this (Y/N), you’ve done this stuff before.”

“I don’t…”

“You do, okay. Just think, take a deep breath and think about this, okay? Don’t rush it.”

With that he got up and walked away, checking on everyone else while you just stared at the paper in the booklet.

Looking up, you looked around the room before looking back down at the paper.

You shook your head and closed the paper, standing up, you walked out the room as if you were on autopilot, your legs just carried you.

You didn’t think, you didn’t really have any destination in mind, you just wanted to go, you wanted to leave.

So that’s what you did, you went to your locker to grab your bag and you walked towards the main entrance of the school.

“(Y/N)!” Sam yelled.

Stopping, you turned to her and frowned as she jogged over.

“Shouldn’t you be in the exam?” She asked.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” You responded.

“Yeah but I couldn’t hack it.” She shrugged.

“Yeah.. same…”

She gave you a gentle smile and gestured to the doors of the school.

“Wanna get some ice cream?”

You nodded and you both left the school without bothering to think twice as you guys quickly ran from the school grounds so you wouldn’t be caught.

You were thankful to your friend for distracting you, but eventually Sam had to go, and she gave you one last look.

“Are you going to get home okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.. yeah I am. Don’t worry, I’ll text you okay?”

“Right, good.”

She left and you carried on sitting on the rock looking over the town, you didn’t stay too long, you wanted to be home before it started to get dark.

So you made your way back to the house and pulled your keys from your pocket as the front door came into sight.

Walking over, you let yourself in and closed it, locking it behind you as you tossed your bag on the floor and kicked your shoes off.

Pulling your phone out, you played some music as you walked to the kitchen as you started to work in cleaning the mess you had made before school while you were making your breakfast.

The whole evening you spent watching TV or playing some games before you went to bed.

Waking up the following morning, you looked at the time and grumbled, sending a text to Sam saying you weren’t coming in.

You lounged about all morning, ignoring your phone as it rang and decided to work on some errands you had to do.

You started with dragging the new boxes of furniture you had to build out and setting the tool box next to it, then you grabbed the shopping list from the fridge and made your way to the shops.

You pushed the cart around as you pulled stuff in, sometimes stopping to look at something that wasn’t in the list and to debate if you really wanted it or needed it.

While walking home, you heard someone call out your name and you stopped walking and set the shopping bags on the floor as you turned around to look at the car that had pulled up behind you.

Mr Evershed got out and he jogged over, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he frowned heavily.

“We nearly reported you missing, why haven’t you answered your phone? Why hasn’t your parents rang us back? If it weren’t for Sam I was going to call the police and tell them you were missing!” He scolded.

You pulled your phone out and showed him your blocked contacts and it was the school and a few missed calls from a withheld number.

“I got fed up of the school calling me and I don’t answer unknown numbers, gotta be safe innit.” You shrugged.

“Right, and your parents?”

“My guess? In the middle of the ocean probably basking in the sunlight or whatever they only dock once a week or some crap like that I don’t know try email them.”

“Right this is serious (Y/N). We need to talk.”

“Well I’m busy, my milks gonna go off and you’ll have to buy me a new one.”

Mr Evershed looked at the bags on the floor and sighed, gesturing to the car park not far away.

“I’ll take you home but I’m serious okay? We need to talk about what happened.”

“It’s fine. It’s not that far.”

He sighed and held his hands out to you as you picked up the numerous shopping bags on the floor.

“Come on, you’re gonna break your arms carrying them like that.”

“It’s not even that many.”

“Right, and when your arms fall off I’m just going to stand here and tell you I told you so.”

You rolled your eyes and carried on walking and he walked along side of you.

“You know you can get arrested for leaving your car there.”

“Come on, just a small chat, that’s all I’m asking for. What do you say?”

You didn’t reply.

He spun around and walked backwards, looking down at you as he kept an eye on his car.

“If your arms fall off I’m going to leave them there and take your shopping.”

“Did you just say you’re going to rob me?”

“It’s not stealing if you can’t pick them up anymore.”

You stopped walking and he grinned down a little at you as he held his hands out again.

“Fine, okay, whatever.”

You held out your hands, letting him take the bags from you and you followed him back to his car to let him drop you off home.

He refused to let you carry the bags out, and you left him to follow you as you entered the house.

“Watch the crap on the floor.”

“Doing some DIY?” He asked.

“Trying to, I don’t really know how but they need built since I broke the other draws.”

You focused on putting your shopping away and offered the teacher a drink.

He accepted and you made some tea, setting a cup on the table as you set yours on the floor beside you and started to unbox the new furniture.

“So, want to tell me what happened yesterday?”

“What’s there to say. You’re a teacher, figure it out.”

“Well, I’m thinking that you got worried. Overwhelmed? Am I along the right line?” He asked.

“Its no use sir, I just.. I looked at it and the words went right through me… I couldn’t focus… I couldn’t do it…”

He sighed.

“(Y/N) you’re a bright student, I’ve seen your class work okay? I know you know this stuff, you just need to learn how to focus, how to calm yourself.”

You ignored him and focused on trying to follow the instructions in front of you.

Your hands were shaking and you were getting frustrated again trying to figure out where the parts were supposed to go.

“Look, we can set something up for you. Extra classes, support, practice exams. You just need to tell us what will help you.”

You tossed the screw driver across the room in frustration and stood up, running a hand down your face.

“What will it matter?! My parents couldn’t care less! They’re too busy taking fancy vacations across the world! They don’t care about helping me! They don’t care about my grades or what I do sir! The information just won’t stick, I’ll be lucky if I land some dead end job after all this!” You yelled.

“(Y/N), look at me.”

You refused and left the room, heading into the hallway you slumped against the wall and buried your face in your knees.

“I can’t.. I can’t do this sir.. I can’t.. I can’t even put some god damn furniture together…”

“You just need someone to show you, to teach you.”

There was some movement and he walked over.

“All you need is someone to be in your corner, and even if no one else is I am.” He spoke gently.

Looking up, you found him crouching in front of you, a smile on his hand as he held the instruction booklet you were trying to follow.

“Why…?”

“Because I know you’re capable of so much more then you think. Come on.”

He got up and went back into the front room and you followed him.

He sat down and gestured for you to sit next to him so you did, setting the paper down in front of the pair of you.

“Just breathe. Read the first section and tell me what you think you need to do.”

You carefully read the words and looked around the parts and picked a few up.

“We need to connect these two first.”

“Good, here.”

He handed you the hammer from the tool box and you got to work.

While you worked he asked you questions that were in the exam, asking you to think about what they meant first before asking you to give your answer.

And before you knew it you were finished and you had successfully completed both the building of the draws and the exam you had walked out for yesterday.

“Absolutely perfect, you smashed it (Y/N).”

“Wait.. really..?”

He smiled and laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, you successfully answered every single one of those questions. All you need is to take your mind of it. Think of something else while doing it, a song or a film or whatever it is you like. Focus on that to calm yourself down, okay?”

You nodded your head and smiled a little at him.

“Thanks sir…”

“No problem, now, do you think you can tackle this coffee table?”

You looked at it and turned back to him.

“Could you maybe help…? Ask me revision questions while I build it?”

“Of course I can, if that’s whats going to help you with this then of course. But I need you to promise me something.”

You nodded and turned your attention to him.

“I want you to come to school tomorrow okay? You’re going to come find me first thing and you’re going to retake that mock exam, and you’re going to answer just like you’ve done. Then you’re going to write me a list of everything you think will help you, everything we can do as a school to help you okay?”

“Okay.”

“You promise me?”

You smiled and nodded.

“I promise sir.”

Mr Evershed nodded his head with a smile and began to ask you more revision questions while you worked on your next DIY project.

You were a bright student and he could see that, you just needed someone who was willing to work with you to support you. Someone to show you you’re able to do more then you think

#ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr Evershed #mr Evershed x reader #mr Evershed x you #mr Evershed imagine #Martin Evershed #Martin Evershed x reader #Martin Evershed x you #Martin Evershed imagine

56 notes · View notes

tenebrius-excellium · 1 year

Text

I love your post about backend motivation vs frontend motivation in the HTTYD series!!! I’ve always had a bit of a problem with the sequels (especially the third movie) that I could never put into words, but the difference in motivation is EXACTLY it. The Hidden World in particular had a specific ending in mind, wich isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but their solution was to force the ending into existence instead of letting the story naturally build up to the ending. And you can feel the story straining soooooo much when Toothless acts like a dog for twenty minutes or Grimmel does something simple/obvious that the narrative treats as an ingenious act of strategy. It’s just not genuine! The characters simply wouldn’t act like that, but the writers let plot dictate characters instead of the other way around, and it’s just. so disappointing. There has to have been a way to keep the natural tensions and eventual triumphs of dragon/human bonds without resorting to flattening everyone’s character and taking the story in a weird, half-baked direction.

————————————————————————————-

Oh my gosh B. You’re still there??????? THANK YOU for being faithful to my blog even tho I’ve not really posted anything proper in ages!!! I’m so happy to hear from you!!!

I’m glad you liked my post XD Ok so. I remembered that what I tried to express is called “Watsonian vs. Doylish” interpretation in fandom (based on this post), or easier, it’s about giving in-universe explanations vs. ex-universe explanations for something that happens in the plot. The actual literary terms according to Gérard Genette for that would be “intra-diegetic” vs. “extra-diegetic”.

The specific difference the terms “back-end vs. front-end motivation” makes, seems to be the phenomenon that building a story from the start allows it to better make sense inside the universe, whereas building a story from its ending reveals the circumstances that the author found themselves in when creating it.

Anyway so what I always found strange is that Httyd2 had all those same problems you named, yet no one talks about that and only bashes on the third movie! Wanna enlighten me on why the second movie worked for you???

Ok so this is spontaneously going to turn into the “Ooc Hiccup post” that I promised at the beginning of the year. I hope you’re ok with that.

WHY IS HICCUP OOC IN HTTYD2?

because his new conflict (”becoming Chief”) was pulled out of thin air and wasn’t already an established extension of Berk’s situation. (a part I always loved about Httyd1 was that Hiccup wasn’t made out to be a Disney Princess who would have to face the duty of leading eventually. I expected the question of succession to be handled far more casually - that someone who wanted to be worthy could be Chief on Berk, not because Hiccup was expected to continue Stoick’s legacy. In fact I wish Stoick would have let him go rampant with the smithy and all his crazy inventions, making him Gobber’s successor first - since Gobber is also canonically older than Stoick - and lining Astrid up to be the next actual Chief. There could have been a sudden plot twist where Astrid realizes she doesn’t want to do it alone and that she needs Hiccup in this with her. It would have made them the ruling couple in a different way.)

because the movie made him immature on purpose so it could justify slapping the “necessary” growth arc on him. (Look, Hiccup has always been reckless and a little bit too trusting when presented with danger, but he was never ignorant of a certain reality or too stupid to see error in his ways. Httyd2 depicts him as a naive dragon geek who can’t see past the destructive potential this has on the humans around him. Eret has had a shit life and a dark past. Drago has his reasons for what he does. Yet Hiccup is far too quick to ignore the trauma that the tribes of the Archipelago suffered because of the dragon plague, and simply forgives his mother despite the fact that she chose to save dragons over raising her own son. It’s all in the name of dragon welfare now and that is just not Hiccup. Og Hiccup took time to engage with Astrid’s valid scepticism. Og Hiccup killed the Red Death to save his tribe. He did not attempt to train that one, if you get what I’m saying. The dragons were never pets.)

because Stoick died only so he wouldn’t get in the way of Hiccup’s leadership. (After all that happens, Hiccup - to me - hasn’t suddenly evolved into a wiser or more experienced person. He just righteously got his ass kicked for the stupidity that was forced onto his character. He then becomes Chief not because he has learned much from the situation, but because Stoick is now dead. It’s true that Hiccup says “Sorry, Dad” to the funeral pyre, but it is never specified what he’s sorry for. To me, he does understand that he got his father killed, but he doesn’t get a grasp on why. He hasn’t the faintest notion of what Stoick did for him, to what extent his father came after him. There was desperation in Stoick to save his son. And Hiccup never feels this guilt much. It is then very convenient that he can freely lead the people of Berk and appear as a competent Chief simply because there is no more Stoick to disagree with him. I loved the version in the books where Hiccup becomes king and Stoick as well as Valhallarama are both alive and well to see it!!!! And Stoick, Chief of the Hairy Hooligans, has to take a step back and let his son shine.)

Right. So that’s that. The second point is by far my greatest criticism regarding Httyd2. Hiccup, in my opinion, was always balanced between the needs of dragons and humans. He is not a “dragon geek”. It simply so happened that a dragon became his best friend because no one else wanted to be his friend at first. Movie!Hiccup is an “invention geek”!!! The time he spends building stuff in the smithy is so important to his character! He doesn’t fix stuff by talking. He fixes stuff by building tools first and explaining them to everyone else second. That’s how I’ve always understood him. Httyd3 Hiccup partly returned to that focus with his fireproof armor, the fully developed flightsuits and the docking contraption for ships that he made on New Berk. The Hiccup I know acts more, gains emotional insight by observation, and talks less.

Of course I agree with all of your criticism of Httyd3. Yes the movie felt strained. But I admit that because I enjoyed Hiccup’s hesitant yet determined character again, I can overlook its flaws much easier than the flaws of Httyd2.

Let me know what you think!

#httyd #httyd2 #httyd3 #httyd franchise #analysis #httyd analysis #httyd2 analysis #httyd3 analysis #wherethekiteflies #wherethekitethought #b #ask #asks #anon #anonymous

19 notes · View notes

healeroflightanddark · 8 months

Text

Dancing with the Dragons, Chapter 2: A Surprise

The five boys sat at the buffet table after their meal, waiting for the wait staff to come by with the check. Yuya was leaning back in his seat with his hands resting on his now very full tummy, eyes closed and a content smile on his face. He heard the sound of one of his brothers taking another photo of him, but right now he didn’t care. He was too full to care! He felt sleepy too. Full and sleepy!

“Aw, someone looks ready for a nap!~” Yuri cooed.

“Mhm…” Yuya mumbled. “Wake me later.”

“We gotta go, Yuya,” Yuto said gently. “You can’t nap here.”

Yuya just pouted without opening his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because we gotta go.”

Yuya didn’t reply, opting to instead relax happily. The waiter eventually brought the check to their table. “How was everything?”

“So good,” Yuya murmured contentedly. He sounded like he was half asleep.

“Yuya just loves to eat,” Zarc said, smiling fondly at his youngest brother as he pulled out some cash to pay the bill.

“Mm, food is yum,” Yuya mumbled. “So yum.”

“Alright, Yuya, it’s time to go!” Zarc said.

Yuya raised his arms and made grabbing motions with his hands, not wanting to have to walk all the way back to the limo while he was so full. Yuto chuckled and picked him up bridal style, being very careful not to jostle him too much. He carried Yuya out of the buffet to the limo, followed by the rest of their brothers. There was a bit of a scuffle between Yuri and Yugo as Yuto got into the limo with Yuya.

“No! No! I wanna sit next to Yuya!” Yuri said.

“You sat next to him on the way here! It’s my turn for Yuya cuddles!” Yugo whined.

“No! I want Yuya cuddles!” Yuri snapped, trying to get to the limo door before Yugo. Unfortunately for him, Yugo managed to push past him and dive into the limo next to Yuya. The tomato-haired boy was now sandwiched between Yuto and Yugo, and Yuri had no choice but to sit on Yugo’s other side and sulk.

“You two are such children,” Zarc said, sliding into his seat across from the quadruplets. He winced a little and rubbed his leg.

“Are you okay, Zarc?” Yuto asked. The question caused Yuya to open his eyes and look at the oldest Sakaki brother.

“Oh no! Is your leg bothering you again?” the youngest Sakaki brother asked with wide eyes. Back when Zarc’s leg had been broken by the crazy fan that had tackled him, the break had been pretty bad. He’d had to get a metal rod in his leg to help it stay aligned, and as a result his leg sometimes caused him pain.

“Yeah, it hurts, but I’ll be fine,” Zarc said. Yuya pouted and decided to switch seats, moving to sit next to Zarc and hug him. Zarc smiled at him and wrapped his arms around his little brother. “Thanks, Yuya.”

Yugo pouted furiously, having been denied Yuya cuddles for the second time that day. Yuya noticed and smiled at him. “I’ll give you cuddles when we get back to the hotel, okay Yugo?”

“Okay!” Yugo said, brightening up immediately at the promise. He relaxed into his seat, looking out the window beside Yuto.

“So, Yuya,” Yuto said, getting the younger’s attention. “We got some news about dad after you snuck out of the hotel all alone.”

Yuya’s head snapped up and he looked at Yuto with wide, hopeful eyes. “You heard from Dad?”

Yuya had always been very close to their dad. When the quadruplets were little, he’d wanted to be just like Dad, and tended to spend more time with him than with their mother. Yusho had even taught Yuya most of his magic tricks! Zarc, Yuto, Yuri, and Yugo were close to their father too, but they were closer to their mother. Yuya had always gotten very sad whenever Yusho left to go on tours, to the point where Yusho had to video chat with him every night so that he wouldn’t cry himself to sleep. Even now, at fourteen years of age, Yuya still video chatted with his father every night whenever Yusho or the Yu-boys were on tour.

Yuya teared up a little. “I miss Dad…”

“I know, we all do,” Zarc said, hugging Yuya. “But guess what?”

“What?” Yuya asked, looking up at him.

“Well, Dad said—” Zarc was rudely interrupted by Yuri. “Don’t tell him! Let’s make it a surprise!”

“Don’t tell me what?” Yuya asked.

“You weren’t there when Dad called,” Yuri smirked. “You were too busy wandering off! So that means you have to wait to find out! Maybe that’ll teach you not to sneak off!~”

“Oh come on!” Yuya whined. “What’s going on? Yugo? Yuto?”

“You know what, I actually think letting it be a surprise might actually be a good idea,” Yugo said.

“Noooo! Yuto! Tell me! Please?” Yuya pleaded.

Yuto thought for a moment. “Sorry, Yuya. I’m on their side.”

“Yutooooo! Is this punishment for cuddling Zarc instead of you?”

“No, I just think making it a surprise will make your reaction when you find out even better.”

“Well then, that’s that,” Zarc said. “I’ll text Dad to let him know.”

Yuya whined in frustration. “You all suuuuuck!”

“Hey! Rude!” Yuri said, pouting playfully. To which Yuya stuck out his tongue at him. And then proceeded to shriek and try to get away as Yuri unbuckled his seatbelt and pounced on him to tickle him.

“Nohoho! Yuriiii! Stohohop! I’m sorryhyhyhy! I’m sorryyyyhyhyhyhy!” Yuya squealed, batting at Yuri’s hands frantically.

“Yuri, get back in your seat and buckle up!” Zarc ordered. Yuri ignored him and simply buckled himself into the seat next to Yuya so he could continue tickling him. Zarc groaned and rubbed his temples, before deciding to take advantage of the situation and send their father the promised text without Yuya noticing.

* * *

Hours later, Yuya sat on his hotel bed, chatting with Yusho. “Dad, what did you tell everyone else while I was gone? They won’t tell me!” he pouted.

Yusho chuckled. “I know, Zarc told me. But I think they’re right, it would be much better for you to find out as a surprise!”

“Daaaaad! C’mon! Please?” Yuya gave his best puppy eyes, which usually got him what he wanted but he only used as a last resort.

Unfortunately this time Yusho didn’t cave into the puppy eyes. “Sorry, Yuya, but I can assure you you’ll like the surprise!”

Yuya groaned, falling back onto his bed dramatically. “The puppy eyes have failed meeeeee!”

Yusho just laughed. “I know it’s hard to wait, especially when you desperately want to know, but the wait will be worth it, I promise!”

“Okay fiiiine,” Yuya sighed. It seemed he would really have to wait.

#cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on deviantart #cross posted on quotev #cross posted on wattpad #yugioh arc v #yugo #yuri #yuto #yuya sakaki #zarc #yusho sakaki #boy band au #quadruplets

3 notes · View notes

ritzyu · 2 years

Text

Pretty Flower.

🌹Favorite line: "You kiss me then fuck her!?" Sorry I just had to lmao

🌹 pairing: Yeonjun x fem!reader

🌹 genre: angst, fluff (if you squint), and pinch of smut..

🌹 warnings: mentions of; violence, suicidal thoughts, blood, fictional disease- (hanahaki disease), coughing out blood and flowers, cursing, suggestive contents, pet names, unprotected sex, soft sex. if I miss something, please do tell me^^.

🌹 w/c: 8.9k

🌹 disclaimer(s):

the header and dividers in this post were edited/made by me, so please don’t come at me for “not giving credit”.

this does not represent txt’s Choi Yeonjun in any way. Everything that this post contains are all fiction. Please don’t take anything too seriously.

🌹 a/n: hi loves, I'm sorry this post took too long to update:( life happened so.. Anyways - This fic contains mature content. Please, Minors Do Not Interact. Oh and btw, the smut part will start under the red divider, and will end once you see the second red divider^^ (I said that bcs just in case y’all wanna skip it lmfao). thank you and I hope you enjoy!

You and Yeonjun were both in the library, studying and preparing for the final exam you’ll be having in a few days, which was math. Yeonjun wasn’t really your classmate. He was a year ahead of you. His class were finished with their finals and other schoolwork, so he happily obliged when you asked him if he was able to help you study, since he didn’t have anything better to do and wanted to spend more time with you.

“So you multiply this term by that term then...” you mumble, tapping the end of your mechanical pencil on your chin as you stare down at the problem Yeonjun gave you as practice. Yeonjun smiled, seeing how cute you were, slightly struggling and so focused on solving the last question.

“Okay, I’m finished!” with a proud and confident smile, you spun your paper upside down and slid it closer to Yeonjun’s side. He raised a brow at you before eyeing the piece of paper. He placed his index finger on it as he checked your answers. After ten seconds, he shook his head then gave you back your paper. Explaining how you did the last question wrong.

Clicking his tongue, he wrote another two problems on a separate sheet of paper. “Come on Jjun! It was just one question!” you whined, making the man in front of you lift his head from the paper. “You know our rules, y/n. One wrong question, you get an extra two more to solve.” you crossed your arms and pout at him, a frown visible on your face. Yeonjun sighed.

“Fine. I’ll let you off the hook this time because your cute.” he leaned over to your side of the table and pinched your nose as he shakes your head. “Come on little one, I’ll get you something to eat for your hard work-” his sentence got cut short when someone suddenly spoke.

“That wouldn’t be necessary, Yeonjun.” it was Ryan, your boyfriend that Yeonjun thinks is a complete eyesore. You and Ryan had been dating for almost a year now. No matter how much you try to make Ryan and Yeonjun, whom was your best friend for almost half of your life, to get along, they just won’t cooperate.

Yeonjun always thought Ryan was a complete jerk and was just a fuck boy whom just had his cock inside women each and every night, he wasn’t wrong though. That’s why he was so surprised when you told him that you were dating the Ryan. You told him not to worry about you and told him that Ryan sounded sincere when he told you what he felt. He was disappointed, but didn’t want to just tell you to break up with Ryan because of what he believes he is, and he didn’t wanna seem that he was controlling your life, which wasn’t. He wanted you to be free and happy, so he just warned you to be careful and immediately tell him if Ryan did some fucked up shit.

“I’ll be taking her out.” Ryan then placed a hand over your shoulder, Yeonjun mentally rolled his eyes at that, he just nodded and waved goodbye to you and with that, he left without a word. You were looking back at him with a slightly upset face, he didn’t even give you a chance to thank him.

“C’mon, baby” Ryan kissed you on the lips, you nodded then went out the library. You two were just having a normal conversation until his phone suddenly rang. He took it out of his pocket to check who it was. His eyes widened for a while once he checked who it was before turning to you. Just as when you were about to ask him who it was, he spoke, “Excuse me” he then turned around and walked a little bit away from you before answering the call.

An agonizing five minutes of waiting passed and you then saw him coming back to where you were, his face looking tense and awkward, palm resting on the back of his neck. You sighed, knowing what words he was going to spit out now. “Sorry baby, I can’t go with you right now, it’s just an emergency and I need to go, I also can’t drop you home since it’s urge-”

“It’s alright,” you gave him a half lit fake smile, “I could just walk.” Ryan kissed your forehead and thanked you for understanding, then, he got in his car and left.

It’s not like you cared anymore if he drops you home anyways, you got used to it. You didn’t wanna seem like a complete brat and while and complain about his reason more like excuses. You started walking home, but you felt a sudden tightness in your chest. You struggled to find you inhaler in your bag, and once you did you eventually dropped it, before you could even pick it up, someone else did. Yeonjun.

“Woah there y/n,” he then immediately went to you and handed you your inhaler. Once you calmed down, you looked back at Yeonjun, who was looking back at you with eyes filled waves of concern. You thanked the man and he sighed.

“He left you again, huh? That fucker.” chuckling awkwardly, you gently nudged your shoulder on his arm. “It’s alright Jju-” “No. It’s not. Aish.” he took your bag and slung it over his shoulder then took your hand in his. Opening the door to his car, he gestured his hand for you to go inside and you did, he then followed.

He turned on the engine of his car and started driving, his finger tapping on the steering wheel. “Where are we going Jjun?”

“I’m driving you home. Something that that stupid excuse of a boyfriend, Ryan, can’t do.” you gulped, then silence filled the car. You both were sitting in complete silence as he drove you home. A few unbearable minutes passed, Yeonjun finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” he started, “It’s just pissing me off that he just leaves you on the spot every fucking time.”

“He said it’s urgent-”

“It’s always like that. What? Is his mom always confined in the hospital every other day? Or maybe his little sister gets the flue for one whole week and suddenly she gets dengue the next week?” he scoffed, spinning the wheel with one hand, his eyes furiously focused on the road as he was driving into a familiar street that led to your home. “Darling, if he’s lying he sure is terrible at it, like everything else he does, for fucks sake.”

You just sat there in silence, you don’t know how you could defend your boyfriend now, every word Yeonjun had said was true though. He looked at your face, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall any second now, he stopped the car right in front of your doorstep.

“Shit.. I’m so so sorry y/n, I-..” you wiped the tears that already fell, sniffling, you waved a hand at him in protest, “It’s alright Jjun, I’ll.. I’ll try to talk to him about it next time we meet.” Yeonjun felt his heart ache. He then placed a hand on your cheek, cupping it and caressing it oh so gently as he draws circles around it with his thumb as a way for saying sorry and then nodded.

You opened the door of his car and got out, but before closing the door, Yeonjun spoke up once more, “By the way, y/n, I’ll be out of town for a few days, I’ll be visiting my grandparents, I’ll be sure to update you when I leave and when I get there, okay?” you smiled warmly, nodding in response. You then thanked him for earlier and wished him safe travels before he left.

---

The next day, you received a message from Yeonjun at 7am;

Jjunnie<3

Good morning y/n, just wanted to update you that I’m all set to leave now. :)

To; Jjunnie<3

Hey Jjunnieee, good morning! Stay safe on your way there<3

Jjunnie<3

Thank you, bun<3

You smiled at your phone before finally deciding to get up and shower. It was Saturday and remembered that Ryan promised you that he’d take you out on a date today this afternoon. After showering, you dug into your closet to find some decent clothes. You finally settled on a cute pink skirt and plain white polo shirt, paired with white rubber shoes.

“He said he’d pick me up at 11am,” you mumble to yourself as you checked the time. “It’s 9:30.” you then clapped your hands once, smiling like an idiot. “I have plenty of time to get ready!”

An hour passed and you looked at yourself in your bathroom mirror, all dolled up. You made little jumps, not being able to contain your excitement. You looked stellar. From your hair and make up, to your outfit, humming in satisfaction at how cute you looked.

You took your phone and black purse before heading out to wait for your boyfriend, Ryan, to come pick you up outside your house.

A thirty minutes passed, but he still wasn’t here. You shrugged, thinking that he must be a little late.

Well, minute turned into hours. 2hours, to be exact. You were getting impatient, yet also, worried, so you took your bike and went to Ryan’s place to check up on him. When you did, you saw another car parked right next to Ryan’s. Thinking that he might just have a visitor, you calm down and knock at his door, but to your surprise, it creaked open when you knocked once.

“Why would this man leave his door open like this, aish..” you whisper. You called out Ryan’s name a couple of times before letting yourself in. You scanned his living room, seeing as it was slightly, messy. You found a red purse lying down on the carpet, a laced bra hanging from the arm of the couch. You gulped, not wanting to believe the thoughts that were running into your head.

Just then, you heard.. noises, coming from upstairs. You didn’t wanna be nosy, but something in you needed to know what was going on. Quietly waking up the stairs, it didn’t take you long to find out that the noise you were hearing came from Ryan’s room. The door was slightly cracked open, you bent down and peeked through the small gap provided.

Your eyes widened, you covered your mouth to prevent any noise coming out from it. There you saw Ryan, fucking another woman.

“Aren't I better than that virgin bitch, Ryan?” the woman said between moans, throwing her head back as pleasure that she was receiving built up. Ryan immediately responded with ‘yes baby’, that definitely made your heart break into pieces. You lost it once you heard the words that came out of his dirty mouth. You felt the sharp pain in your chest again as it tightened, but you didn’t care right now. You didn’t wanna stay silent anymore.

“You fucking bastard, Ryan!” you shouted, as you kicked the door fully open. Ryan and the woman he was with were both too stunned at the sudden action to even speak. Seeing them like that literally made your blood boil, your heart aching painfully.

“So this is what you were fucking up to? Fucking women behind my back?” you pointed at the woman under him with wide eyes that were piercing Ryan’s. Biting your lip, not wanting to let more of your emotions seep out right in front of two disgusting pigs.

“Y/n,” he sighed, “let me expla-” “Shut it! Explain? I’ve already seen enough. You’re not fooling me anymore. What were you thinking!? You kiss me then fuck her!? Did what we have meant absolutely nothing to you?” you held your hand to your chest, feeling the pain surge through your body more. "We're fucking over." Ryan sighed again face in his palms, mentally rolling his eyes, yet you could still see that there was not even an ounce of shame visible on his face for what he'd done. “You two fucking disgust me.”

“Look, y/n--”

You slammed the door shut before he could even finish his sentence. You furiously went downstairs, but as you were on your way to the door, you were coughing.. petals? White petals that looked like they were poorly coated in a blood. You heard Ryan’s door open and you immediately ran back to your bike while still coughing an enormous amount of petals with blood.

You ignored how Ryan screamed your name. You just quickly rode your bike home, blocking out any noises around you.

Once you reached your house, you locked the doors and windows before going to lock yourself in your room’s bathroom. Petals soon came out as a whole flower as you continued to cough. You couldn’t stop, you just coughed, and coughed and cried until you fainted on the floor.

---

You woke up the next morning, lying down on the cold tiles of your bathroom floor, which was tainted with blood, flowers, and petals scattered around you. Your sink and bathtub almost filled with the same contents.

Your throat hurts so much, and whenever you take even the shortest of breaths, it felt like something would be pinching your lungs, meaning that your breathing was very limited.

Standing up, you held onto the the sink for support, staring into your reflection in the mirror, you were horrified. You were a complete mess. You, once more looked at your surroundings, not knowing what was happening to you.

You picked up a flower from the sink, examining it, “Are these actually flowers..?” your other hand then flew to your neck, feeling a slight sharp pain when you spoke. While you were having trouble about what to believe or not, you hear your phone ringing from your bedroom.

You went out of the bathroom, stumbling as you did. Seeing that the name of the contact was Yeonjun’s, you took your phone and answered almost immediately.

“Thank God! You finally answered! I was worried sick. ” you could hear him sigh in relief at the end of his sentence. You forced out a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Jjun. I-I was just dealing with something.”

“I see.. well, I just wanted to check up on how you were doing? You alright, bun?”

“I’m.. I'm doing alright.. how ‘bout you?” Yeonjun frowned, noticing how your tone and voice were very different than before. Call him weird for that, but he could know if you weren’t alright just by hearing your voice. He didn’t hear that chirpy pitch you had when speaking, you sounded so dull to him. You hated that you couldn’t really hide anything that you felt, not that you actually mind, but it could be annoying. That also meant he could indicate if you were lying or not, very easily.

“You don’t sound alright. Something happened?”

“I’m alright Jjun, just a little cold, that can’t kill me, can’t it?” you joked, that still didn’t sit well with Yeonjun. But he didn’t wanna force something out of you, and maybe he was just over reacting, so he sighed and gave you some things you could do to get through your cold without any complications. You thanked him and he excused himself, saying that he needed to go help his grandparents with cooking breakfast.

“You should go eat something too, y/n.”

“How did you..-”

“I always know,” you chuckle at that. You didn’t necessarily found that creepy or anything, it was just surprising how Yeonjun knew you all too well. "Well, it's easier when I was with you through almost all your life." he laughed.

“I need to go now, bun, call you later, yeah?” you hummed in approval and bid your goodbyes.

After the call ended, you went back to your bathroom, still not wanting to believe the scene that was displayed right in front of you. It looked like a place where a murder had taken place. It smelled so foul, you wanted to vomit, but with the lack of contents in your stomach, you just couldn’t.

After cleaning the bathroom and yourself, you went to your kitchen and took out some left over soup then heated it while checking on the internet what you were feeling. But, nothing seemed to be showing up.

You wanted to say that you might just be hallucinating the flowers and blood, but you just cleaned your bathroom and clothes. You felt each flower and petals before throwing them into the trashcan. They felt real. They were real. The blood was also real, you could still taste metallic flavor at the back of your throat.

You gave up on searching what you were feeling, nothing was popping up on Google, YouTube, and etc. it was just wasting your time. You thought it’ll pass, but you wanted to know what caused it. As you scrolling through your phone, you suddenly came across a picture of you and Ryan on your first date.

You treasured that photo so much. You and Ryan had so much fun during that date. He took you to your favorite restaurant, then watched the sunset at the near edge of a cliff, sitting down on top of his car. You slammed your fists onto the table, cringing and asking yourself how foolish you were for loving him. You saw the signs right in front of you, yet your brain was too farsighted to even read them. Yeonjun even warned you about him. But you still loved him so so much. You wanted to hate him so badly but your heart just wouldn’t allow it.

You suddenly felt that tight feeling in your chest and it was slowly getting hard to breathe. You wanted to stand up to go get your inhaler, but it was too late. You started to cough again, covering your mouth instinctively. When you look down at your hands, you saw a whole flower, displayed right in front of you. A white rose, tinted with blood. At first the flower you were coughing out the night before wasn't so recognizable, since most of them were closed.

You stayed like that for over an hour. You were crying in pain but no one could even hear you. You were alone. After that you just laid your head on the table, sobbing. You knew crying was useless right now. But what else could you do? Your used to be the love of your life was cheating on you with another woman behind your back. Someone who seemed more prettier, sexier, blonde, heck maybe she could've been better than you with everything. She's perfect for him. You thought, heart aching as your thoughts run wildly through your head.

What also pained you is that he didn't even bother to actually pay you a visit. Message you. Or whatever. Did the time you guys shared together, nothing? Were you nothing? Weren't you enough? Was he actually happy that you finally broke off with him? Did he actually love you? You banged your head to your table, wanting these thoughts to stop.

Your best friend, and probably your only true friend in this cruel world, still hasn't come back in town yet. He was the only one whom was there for you when you were lost in life and didn't know what to do. No parents. Relatives. Just you. And now you're all alone, suffering from something you don't even know. All you know is that it just makes you feel more like shit than you already are now. It just adds to the pain and stress that you're going through.

You wanted to call Yeonjun and tell him what actually happened and what was happening to you. But you didn't wanna burden him while he must be having the time of his life with his family. Something in you also really didn't want him to see you like this.

↻ - time skip to 9:45pm - ⟳

After a while, you felt as if you wanted to take your own life right then and there. Every time you thought about that filthy liar, Ryan, you immediately start to cough. Who could blame you though? Sometimes more blood would come out than the flower or petals. Your breathing became more and more limited, feeling something sharp poking you from the inside while you even attempt to breathe.

It was just pure torture for you. You wanted all this to stop. It was becoming more and more unbearable by each agonizing moment. You asked yourself; what did I ever do to deserve this?

Just then, your phone on your night stand started ringing, you wanted to ignore it, but seeing as it was Yeonjun's contact whom was calling you, you had to answer. You didn't want that man to waste his time tryna call you back multiple times whilst almost getting a stroke just by worrying about you.

You weakly reached out to your phone. Once you answer it, you tried your best to greet him with a cheerful tone like you once had before. But your body just wouldn't allow it. Your voice was tired and hoarse.

"Woah, did your cold get worse, bun?" concern could be heard from his voice.

"Mhm, unfortunately,"

"Are you sure it's just a cold, sweetheart?" your breath hitched, pausing for a second before answering.

"Y-yeah.. But it's not something I can't handle..!"

"Mhm," he hummed, almost sarcastically. "Well, tell me whenever that cold of yours starts to calm down, alright?" of course, Yeonjun didn't believe a word you said. You sounded so sorrowful. He got chills up his spine whenever you spoke but not in this way.

"By the way, y/n, I'm going back home tomorrow evening."

"TOMORROW!?" you almost jumped from your bed. No. Not tomorrow. Not when I haven't even found out how to get rid of this.. Curse. You thought.

"Yeah? Geez bunny, you sound like you're not happy about that, don't you miss me?" he said, jokingly, yet inside he was being serious, trying to see if he'd get something to slip out of you. His arms crossed as he leaned on the door frame of his room

"N-no! I really do miss you! I-it's just, d-don't you wanna spend some m-more time with your family there?" you were struggling as you tried to think of things to tell him.

"I spent quite enough time with them. And my gramps have more than enough grandkids there to help them."

"I-I see.." you faked a yawn before forcing out a chuckle, "W-why won't you look at that, I n-need to go to bed now haha. Good night Jjun..!" you ended the call before he could even wish you goodnight.

Curling up into a ball, trying to fall asleep. And which, you eventually did.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, please, forgive me? I promise I'll never do anything as stupid as I did before please, come back to me," Ryan said as he went down on his knees, his hands desperately holding yours captive as if he was gonna fall from a cliff if he were to let go.

"I-I don't know Ryan..'" you answered, looking down, but your eyes averted his. Just then he got up and held your shoulders, shaking you aggressively as he yelled.

"Y/N PLEASE!" you stared at him with wide eyes, for some reason you were peralized on the spot. You tried to move and push him away, but to your horror, once you laid hands on him, your hand went through him. You retract your hand from his body. It was covered with this black substance.

You looked back at Ryan, whom was looking directly at you, a rose in his mouth, petals all over his used to be white smooth skin, which was now just complete black mush. You wanted to scream, but can't. Ryan kept on yelling the same thing. Begging you to come back to him.

"I know you still love me! So come back!" just then, his mush body started to melt right in front of you.

"I NEED YOU!"

You gasp, sitting up from your bed, you looked around, seeing that you were actually in your room, you sighed in relief. "It was just a nightmare." you told yourself. You were covered in cold sweat. Your whole body slightly shaken up.

Your eyes then drifted to your bed when you felt your hand come in contact with something soft and silky. You almost screamed when you saw your white bed sheets were tainted with blood and roses.

"You've got to be kidding me right now.." caressing the blood stains with your thumb, "Even in my sleep..? What the fuck?" your attention suddenly turned to your hand. Your skin was paler than before due to blood loss.

"I might die without even fucking trying." you punched your bed before getting up to go clean yourself. You haven't went outside for only a day and a half, yet it felt like you were imprisoned in your house for decades.

So you picked out some clothes and went to your front door, hesitating to open it at first but you eventually did. The sun was covered with some grey clouds, you didn't complain though. You let the cool breeze of wind hit your warm pail skin.

You were walking around your neighborhood then went to a park nearby. While walking, you came across an old familiar tree. It was the tree where you and Yeonjun met when you were still little kids, you were new to the neighborhood that time, you were lost and Yeonjun found you crying while standing right next to that tree. He asked you where you lived and you just described what color your house was and what plants were at your front portch. You giggled at that memory, yet it was also the tree where your name and Ryan's were carved on, a crooked heart surrounding your names in the middle.

You walked towards the tree, placing a hand on the carved letters, sweet memories started to come back to you, making you smile softly. But your thoughts vanished when you heard a couple laughing on a bench right in front of the tree. You hid behind it and peeked your head instinctively to check who they were or did they see you.

You saw a girl with brown silky hair, pretty slim body and slightly tanned skin. When you looked at the man right next to her, your world wanted to crumble right then and there. The boy was none other than Ryan.

You wanted to leave immediately, since you looked like a creep staring at a cute couple. What made you sick to your stomach and your knees weaken was when you saw him kiss her the way he used to kiss you. But the way he stared at her was completely different. He looked into her eyes with a sparks in his.

You suddenly punched the tree, and once you realized what you did you immediately ran away. Stupid! Why’d you do that you fucking idiot?

Ryan looked back to check what made the loud thud from behind them, but all he saw was a person running away, wearing a black hoodie. He couldn't even recognize you. He shrugged and went back to talking to his date.

Seriously? Of all places? He chose to have a date here?! you though to yourself, your back against your door, sliding down, trying to catch your breath, little by little. You ran back to your house after punching that tree. You didn’t know what came over you.

Staring at your fist, slightly bloody, splinters poking your fists, you sighed. You were pretty sure you’d be passing out anytime soon due to too much blood loss. You got up and went to your bathroom, taking out a first aid and washing your hands, removing the splinters before grabbing some bandages to patch yourself up.

While wrapping the bandage around your fists, you imagined how Ryan would take care of you right now. Standing right behind you, wrapping the bandage oh so gently around your wound and kissing it once he was finished. No. You shook your head.

“You’re being delusional.” you tell yourself. It was true though. Ryan would never do that. He had always been a jerk when it came to you. He was just acting all lovey-dovey with you when you were with Yeonjun. You didn’t realize that until now.

The image you made of him in your mind made you believe he was the perfect and best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. But in fact, he was the complete polar opposite. You were just imagining every single scenario where you and him had the perfect life.

You hated yourself for being so foolish as to fall in love with that jerk in the first place. Yet you also pity yourself, you loved and loved, even if it made you a selfless maniac. You even gave all the love that you saved up for yourself.

You wanted to hate him for that, yet your heart just couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried. Telling yourself that he wasn’t the one and he was just a total jerk that made you his past time, and just for him to keep a good reputation, wasn’t enough for you to move on.

You sat down on the rim of your tub, feeling so light headed and dizzy. You started to feel something clogging your throat, making it very hard to breathe. You immediately bent down to your bath tub as you tried to put two fingers down your throat, trying to trigger your gagging reflexes and let out whatever was clogging your throat.

You felt something all too familiar. You knew what it was so without hesitation you pulled out the white rose, but this time, it had some sort of stem attached to it. Unlike the others, this was the only one whom had a stem.

A second or two pass, you started feeling sick to your stomach and vomited tons of blood and flowers all over your bath tub. Your hand slipped and you fell into the tub. You watched in horror at what was happening, making you let out more and more of the already scattered contents in your tub. You wanted to scream like before but couldn't. You could almost suffocate at so much of blood and flowers you were letting out all at once, your body not even having sympathy to give you time to breathe.

You were in too much pain to even notice that someone was banging at your front door so hard. Yeonjun.

He came home earlier than he told you he'd be. And when he got to your place and he saw one dim light from your room was open, the source being bedroom's bathroom light.

He was so worried when you didn't even pick up the phone not even once when he reaches your home. Your bike was still locked, and he knew you couldn't go very far without that bike. He looked through your living room window, and nothing seemed to be out of place.

So he just thought of one thing, forcing his way in. He didn't care if he might be charged for trespassing by the neighbors. He knew that you were inside. And he knew something was wrong.

"This fucking door-!" he groaned, giving the poor door one last kick.

Once he finally broke your door open, he entered the house, he immediately heard faint cries from upstairs. He went upstairs, faster than light. He swore he almost could've tripped but even if he did, there was no stopping him from getting to you right now

He reached your room, and saw the bathroom door slightly opened, your cries louder than before.

"Y/n!" he yelled out, completely opening the door. The scenery displayed right in front of him was almost something out of a horror movie. Blood was everywhere, roses here and there. His stomach also almost turned at the foul smell. But what made his heart drop was when he saw you.

You were inside your bath tub, hugging your knees close to you, your head laying on your knees as you coughed and vomited flowers and blood on your lap. Your hair was drenched in blood, some petals tangled along your locks. Yeonjun wasted no time to run to your side and held your shoulders for you to look at him, one hand flying to your cheek, caressing it.

"Y/n..?? W-what's happening to you..!? Is this what you've been going through all this time?" no answer. He watched you as tears went down you steaming cheeks fell from your eyes. Blood from your mouth down to your neck and clothes. His eyes drifted to your tub almost half way filled with blood.

"Shit...." He picked you up and held you in his arms. He didn't care if you were gonna ruin his clothes or stain his body with blood. What mattered to him right now was to get you to the hospital.

Opening the car door with his right hand for a second and slightly kicking it for him to have more access. He placed you right next to the drivers seat, putting a seatbelt around you. He soon came in the car himself, he looked at you and moved away some stray hairs from your face and kissed your forehead, "Don't worry, bun. Hang in there, alright?" his voice was shaking, but he composed himself and started to drive. Fast. Yet was trying to be careful not to do anything stupid.

Once he reached the hospital, he quickly yet, carefully got you out of the car and barging in, yelling that you need assistance, now. The nurses immediately took out a hospital bed and Yeonjun laid you there. He was with you the whole time they were bringing you inside the ER, holding your hand, praying to whatever God was listening and seeing you guys right now that you could make it.

He kissed your uninjured hand when he saw that you were close to the ER, meaning he'd be leaving you in doctors care now. His grip on your hand tightened before letting go. Once last cough and you finally could gasp for air after that, your vision became blurry, and all you saw before the closed the door was Yeonjun. Crying and was down on his knees. Then it was all black.

---

Yeonjun had been waiting for you to wake up in the hospital since the day he brought you there. He was talking to the doctor and asked him what sickness or disease you had. He’d heard about coughing out blood, sure. But he had never in his whole life has seen nor heard about coughing blood with flowers.

The doctor said the same thing. This was something new to him too.

“I don’t know what your girlfriend has, Mr. Choi,” Yeonjun stared at the doctor, his mind trying to comprehend what he had just heard, Girlfriend?, he throught to himself. He didn’t wanna ask the Doctor where he got the idea of him being your boyfriend, since he was the one whom brought you here in tears.

“But hopefully, we’ll be able to find out ourselves soon after we do some more further analysis and research about what she’s currently experiencing.” the doctor paused for a second, checking the paper in his hands before proceeding to speak.

“As for now, please do keep an eye on her. Make sure she drinks lots and lots of water and eats a proper meal on time. That’ll hopefully restore some more of the blood and nutrients she lost.” Yeonjun nodded and response, thanking the Doctor as he shook hands with him before he left to go check on another patient.

“Where is Y/n Y/l/n’s room?! I need to see her right now!”

Yeonjun was about to enter your room, but the sudden mention of your name made him stop and look at the direction where the voice came from. His look of concern suddenly changing to a look of pure annoyance and anger.

There at the corner of the hallway, Ryan could be seen charging towards your room. Yeonjun crossed his arms while looking at Ryan from head to toe whom just took a stop a few feet away from Yeonjun.

“And what are you doing here?” Ryan asked, pointing a finger at Yeonjun.

“Don’t point your filthy hands at me.” he shoved Ryan’s finger away with his. “and, shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“What the fuck do you mean man? Stop being such a jerk and just let me see Y/n!”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. I’m here because I’m the one who brought her here. If you were her boyfriend and actually cared and loved her, why just show up now that she’s in this state?”

“Mind your own business, mate!” Ryan tried to shove Yeonjun away from the door, but Yeonjun stood firm on his ground.

“Y/n is my business. Where the fuck have you been? Y/n has been going through this shit for almost 3 days now! And now you decide to take action? YOU DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING TO MAKE HER PAIN AND STRUGGLING GO AWAY! if anything.. I'M PRETTY SURE YOU MADE IT WORSE. Do you fucking know who puts up with her whenever she’s sick? Who’s her shoulder to lean and cry on when she needs it? Who makes sure all are needs are met at the end of the day? Who stays up late with her all night when she has bad dreams? If you’re thinking of someone other than your fucking self, then you’re automatically correct, asshole!” Yeonjun popped a nerve that very second and gave Ryan a hard punch to his nose, breaking it.

“I never really understood how someone as lovely, caring, smart, like Y/n, had to be paired with you. Of all fucking peop---” punch. Yeonjun held his jaw, hanging it open for a second while glaring at Ryan whom was fuming with anger.

"Then thanks for being my girlfriend's care taker, y-" Ryan got another punch to his eye and fell back.

"I had just about enough of you." Yeonjun was about to pounce on Ryan but nurses and security had been sent to stop the fighting. Yeonjun was looking down at Ryan, whom was acting like a complete mad dog. He mouthed a 'fuck you' 'before Ryan got taken away.

Yeonjun sighed and fixed his clothes before entering your room. Where he was surprised that you were already wide awake. Looking back at him as he entered the room.

You woke up to the sounds of men fighting in the hallways. You had heard everything. Yeonjun went down on his knees as he held your hand in his. Eyes all teary.

"Y/n..? Hey bun, how are you feeling? Something hurt or-?" you tried to avoid eye contact with him. Feeling ashamed once you realize what you made your best friend go through by taking care of you. You just simply shook your head.

Yeonjuns kissed the knuckles of your hand before bending over to hug your torso, quietly sobbing into your shoulder. "You fucking idiot, y/n. I thought I was gonna loose you.." his hug tightened, yet it wasn't enough to break anything that was attached to you right now.

"Yeonjun.. Don't you think I'm a burden to you?" still not facing him, he lifter his head, eyes slightly wide after hearing what you just asked.

"No! Why would you ever think that, bun?" you murmured something not even you knew. He frowned and placed a hand on your chin, gently guiding your head to turn his way.

"Bunny, you're not a burden to me, alright? If you heard what I said in the hallways.. I didn't mind if you tired me out. Because at the end of the day, I see you smile and know that you're in safe hands whenever you're with me. That's enough to give me a complete energy boost." you have him a weak smile, you could cry right now, but you've cried way too much for the past three days, you don't know if you had any more tears left to cry.

"T-thank you Jjun.." he gave you a warm smile, kissing your forehead as he locked his hand that was on your chin, was now drifting to your cheek, gently pinching it.

"Always, my cute little bunny." he stood up, suddenly remembering something. "Oh! You need to eat. Doctor said you need to eat tons of food to get better." he took the lunchbox that was in a small bag and took a table, placing it in front of him as he adjusts your bed to make you sit down.

"Tons? I might get fat-"

"Don't give a fuck." and with that, he fed you until your body almost couldn't take anymore food.

---

A few days pass and you were discharged from the hospital. Somehow, you convinced Yeonjun to come and live with you. You two were living alone And it was easier for the both of you.

"I have a huge ass house that I live alone in, and you live alone in that crappy apartment! And since you're barely even home because you're usually with me.. Why not just move in with me, hmm?" and it didn't take long for him to go with your idea. The next day he was already at your door with all his stuff in boxes.

Your condition went away quickly than expected. You were just coughing less few petals than before with also less blood. Your breathing was no longer an issue. You were getting better and better as the days passed when you were with Yeonjun.

When you told him what happened between you and Ryan, he swore on his mother that he's not letting him go home with just a broken nose and a black eye. But he was also happy that you finally broke it off with that jerk.

"Do we need to call the Mental Hospital for him or something? He's been claiming that he's your boyfriend the second he stepped foot in the hospital!" you chuckle awkwardly. He also was trying to help you get over Ryan these past few days, but when he hugged you, you would never know that he was grinning as if he'd just lured another prey into his cage.

He knew that being happy that your best friend was going through a break up was wrong. But he couldn't help himself. He didn't have bad intentions. All he ever wanted was for you to be his.

And when the day came when he finally got to confess, turns out that you felt the same way. Let's just say he was hysterical that moment. He couldn't help but just pounce on you like a puppy and kiss you. Oh boy how he longed for this moment.

“I’ll show you how you deserved to be loved and taken care of. I know I could treat you way better than any other man had before.”

You were laid down on the bed underneath Yeonjun, still fully clothed. He was staring down at you with adoration and fire in his eyes. How your skin glowed underneath the bright light of the moon. How you stared at him with eyes twinkling like stars. How your soft lips were parted. Everything about you he wanted to ruin.

He wanted to see your fair skin covered with his mark. Eyes tearing up as pleasure builds up inside of you. Lips quivering as he overstimulates you. Just the thoughts that he had right now were enough to make his member hard. But he needed to contain himself. It was your first time, he didn’t wanna take it too far.

Yeonjun then started to kiss your forehead, trailing down to your lips, looking at you with lustful yet gentle eyes.

“Are you sure about this, y/n?” he has asked you this before you even got inside the bedroom with him. You cupped his cheek, pecking his lips before speaking.

“I am very very sure of this, Jjun. Just.. let’s just start slow, yeah?” Yeonjun shot you a soft smirk.

“And slow you will get, my love.” he then started to leave sweet kisses on your neck and collar bone, which you were sure that those would leave marks on your neck, but you could care less. He took his time unbuttoning your blouse and once your clothed chest were already on display for him, just one last layer, he thought. He lifted your body up by your waist, swiftly removing the hook of your bra.

He looked up at you with hungry eyes, asking for consent. You just nod, throwing your head back, the cold air passing through your nipples, hardening them.

He wasted no time and took in one of your nipples in his mouth, toying with it with his tongue. His hand flying to your breast, massaging them as his thumb was circling the lonely nipple. He was watching you with every action he did, searching for a reaction that you may not like it or if you wanted more.

You covered your mouth with your free hand as the other was gently gripping the sheets. Yeonjun didn’t like that. He gently bites your nipple, making you slightly jump.

“No no, princess. Let me hear those pretty sounds of yours, yeah?” you were hesitant, but didn’t want to upset him, you obeyed, shakily retracting your hand from your mouth.

Yeonjun smirked, kissing your nipple. “That’s my good slut.”

As he was playing with your breasts, his knee was teasing your already dripping core under your skirt. You let out cute little whines and moans that were sweet music to Yeonjun’s ears.

Once he was finished toying with your tits, he finally went downtown, carefully removing the short skirt, helping him by lifting up your ass.

“Shit.” he whispered, staring at your dripping core. He blew on it first, checking your reaction. Your hand flew to his hair, gently gripping it, trying not to hurt him.

“P-please.. No more teasing,” Yeonjun chuckled, seeing how you were so sensitive when he barely even touched you.

“Aww,” he cooed, “My precious cute bunny is so polite. Wait a little longer bun, alright? You’ll get what you want. Just be good, yeah?” you hummed whilst nodding. He then slowly enters one of his digits inside of you, making you squirm slightly in place.

“Shit, baby.. I was supposed to prepare you for later. But you’re already so fucking wet. I think I wouldn’t have to do much, sweetheart. But since it’s also your first time, I’ll still prep you, just in case.” he felt you body suddenly tense up, so he caresses his thumb to your inner thigh.

“It’s alright bun, lay back and relax, let me take care of you.” you did what you were told and he proceeded to pump his digit into you, adding a second one not too long after. You were whining and moaning like crazy, you legs started to shiver and your breathing slowly became more labored.

“You doing alright there, bun?” his fingers threatening to slow down, you pathetically grind your pussy on his hand once he did slow down.

“Please Jjun.. Keep going. Please, please, please- ahh!” you arch your back and mouth open wide once Yeonjun pumped faster than before, hitting your g-spot every time. He then entered another finger into you, making you shake your head once you felt a sharp stinging pain as his digits stretch your walls.

“‘m too full.. It hurts a bit..” you cry out softly.

“Shh.. I’ll slow down for now. You’ll get through it, bun. Just need to stretch you out a little bit more just so you’d have no problems taking me later, ‘kay?” after a while of him pumping the last digit slowly and deeper inside of you, he noticed how full you got and gently pulled out.

“I think you’re ready, physically..” he murmured the last word before looking at you. “But are you ready, ready?” you took a moment to catch your breath before answering him.

“Yes. I am.”

“Alright, bun.” he gave you a peck on the lips before gazing into your eyes.

“I love you. Thank you for letting me be your first.”

“I love you more, Jjunnie.”

The next day, you woke up in Yeonjun’s arms, your head rested on his bare chest. You couldn’t believe what just happened last night. You couldn’t exactly remember everything clearly, but all you knew that Yeonjun had taken good care of you.

He always asked if you were comfortable with everything he was doing. Asked you if anything hurt. He made you feel so beautiful, safe and loved throughout the whole night.

You looked up and Yeonjun whom was sound asleep as you were cuddled up right next to him. You snuggled closer to him and kissed his nose, a cheeky smile was suddenly plastered on his face.

“Now that.. was just adorable.” he said, eyes still completely shut and his voice still deep and slightly groggy. Your cheeks heated up all of the sudden, not really expecting him to be awake.

He giggled as he pinched your cheek and sat you up on his stomach, his hands resting on your waist.

“You weren’t too bad for your first time, cute little bunny.” you let out an annoyed groan after hearing his statement. It was more like he was teasing you more than complimenting you.

He finally opened his eyes and he swore to his whole family that he saw a Goddess right before him.

Your messy hair was shining as sunlight seeped through some parts of the window above the headboard of the bed. Some parts of your hair were also elegantly placed on your shoulder. Your fair skin was decorated with his love marks. Your eyes were still a bit monolid as of now but it made you look more hot. To call you beautiful was an understatement. No, no. You were gorgeous. He looked your exposed body up and down without any ounce of shame, witch made you take the whole blanket and rolled down to your side of the bed once you figured out what he was doing.

Yeonjun laughed, turning to your side and placed a hand on your waist once more. He leaned in closer to your ear.

“Aww, my bunny still shy even after what we did last night?”

“Yeonjun! Do you literally wake up and immediately chose to tease me?!” you pout, turning your head to face him. Which yours was completely red, making him laugh again.

“Mmm~ maybe? Or maybe I’m just craving for a round two.” he winked at you, making you stand up immediately from your bed, still covered in your blanket.

“Maybe if you catch me.” you stuck your tongue out at him before speed running downstairs.

“Oh you just wait, Y/n!” he quickly put on his boxers before going downstairs to go look for you.

Once he finally caught up to you, you both were sweating bullets and breathing heavily. Yeonjun was hugging you from behind, while you effortlessly tried to escape, but just endep up sighing and turned around to hug him back.

You both stood there for a while in silence before you spoke.

“I’m so lucky to have you, Jjun.. I don’t know where I’d be if you weren’t here.”

Yeonjun chuckled, ruffling your hair before replying. “Mmm.. Maybe you had still been crying at the police station crying that you don’t exactly know where you live.” you pinch his ear, tugging on it slightly.

“Stop bringing that up!”

“But it’s cute!”

“It’s not!”

“Stop arguing with me before I kiss you.”

“Aw hell naw.” you jokingly push him away, acting all disgusted, “don’t kiss me when you haven’t even brushed your teeth.”

“Are you implying that my breath stinks!?”

“Maybe~” you blew him a kiss and ran away without another word.

“Why you- I swear you’re gonna be so sorry when I get a hold of you, Y/n!”

A/n: Hi luv! If you made it this far, thank you for taking your time to read this piece of mine! If you like this post please do consider rebloging and liking, it helps with the algorythm alot! Or you could just leave me a reply/comment about your thoughts! Thank you and enjoy the rest of your day/night!

#txt fanfic #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun fanfic #choi yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun smut #txt smut #txt angst #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt hard hours #txt soft thoughts #riri's writing<33

267 notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you. Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty. There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky. It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running. Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk. It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs. Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day. You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow. So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is. Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you. Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day. Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob. He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him? At what point does it stop? You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance. There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now. You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!” It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile. “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came. “Osiruu is a few hours that way. There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital. I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction. “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view. I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted. You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then. Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her. But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be. Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life. You never pictured yourself as the fighting type. When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that. Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile. “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there. He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile. Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend. “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey! I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?” She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by. “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II. I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady? She seems like… you, almost. Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs. You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet. “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible. You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad? Are you just an idiot with no hope? You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes? You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here. Plenty. There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business. Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong. There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune. You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors. Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic. The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is. Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes. Fucking shoes, your salvation. You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many. Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design. It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear. Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up? And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper. His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder? One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to? That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that. You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist. There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss. Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then. Through the forest, you suppose. You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again. You have a finger point, that’s all you need. Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over. It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!” A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach. “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it. “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!” The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors. He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit. “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle. “Oh, no. I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs. “Off the bus then please, miss. Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off. “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions. “I’m sorry? Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier. The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them. “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste. Everyone is polite here, it seems. “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place. Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self. Eliminate the need for a back pathing. All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers. You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do. You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink. You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left. You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one. The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all. No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together. You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches. Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell. It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then. Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide. The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind. You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds. Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway. How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated. Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack. There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick. Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up. Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck. It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous. You know it even before you start. The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay. Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need. You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn. If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty. You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again. This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot. You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though. Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be. Water is an eroder. Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees. You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain. The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it. You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can. It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck. You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water. The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall. You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go. With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it. It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found. This… this is doable.

Okay. If you pull this off, you’re a badass. If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation. This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot. Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further. Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself. The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet. It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again. “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond. So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak. You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below. “Uh. Ahem. Hello. Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you. “Or something on your side is too loud. There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about. It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again. You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?” You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before. Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something? Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good? It’s like it��s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough. “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm. Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to. If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended. You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult. “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do? This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here. You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk. You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem. Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um. Can you give me a second?” You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this. Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?” Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself. Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more. That’s a long way. You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep. Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths. You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second. The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay. Okay, fucking success. It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?” You ask, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go? Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with. As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you. You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing. “Hello? Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?” Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile. “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment. “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again? Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart. It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely. Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do. You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today. You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of. The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right? Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss. The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance. Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright. Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit. You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat. “How’s the baby? Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right. You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.” No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly. “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times. Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along. He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back. Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change? That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father. “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it. The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet. It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees. Shit. “Uh. What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything. Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it? It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is? Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail? Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now. You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make. “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good. Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm. Doubt it,” immediately comes his low response. Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?” Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction. You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth. Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask. Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have? Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly. “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing. “Psh. Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes. He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours. He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?” (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?” (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean? Everyone loves food.” (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um. What’s your favorite color, then?” (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.” (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.” (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be. Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light. Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them. All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier. The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing. If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right? You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time. This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road. The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed. You want a city. This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines. Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows. As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter. “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?” You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you. You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah. So he got to the bus, then. Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile. Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say. Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult. “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full. “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle. Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains. You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest. You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental. It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped. Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes. The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead. Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough. You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in. It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be. The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own. He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop. He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far. You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think. It’s hard to see. Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders. That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right? Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up? Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it. You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy. “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more. “Shit. How d’you… mm. Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking. “You need rest. I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright. Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now. Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are. Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up. You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it. “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you. You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull. So warm, so gentle. If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest. “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur. Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect. “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset. “You makin’ fun of me?” You ask him with a harumph. Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know. Is that displeasure or not? It’s not immediately clear. Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now? Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it? “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back. You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright. It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it. “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that. You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember. Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart. Sixteen times sixteen. One forty-four. No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh. “I won’t move until you wake up. Go to sleep. You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you. That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six. You don’t even think Din would. You would, though. On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up. You should know this. And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?” You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless. He doesn’t have to do this. You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows. How do you say this? You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out. “I’m… not in a bed. I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy. You want him to stay. Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck. Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time. Wait. Don’t panic. Listen.

Breathing. Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black. He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep? Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out. You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen. Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it. Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much. You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box. It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost. Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again. Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator. This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it. He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back. If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful. He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this. You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up. But… these circumstances are their own. You have to capitalize now, this is your chance. You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight. That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to. It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him. Now is the time to hide. You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then. As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy. “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act. “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head. Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…” He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it. “How long have you been up?”

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

How in Maker’s name? This is impossible. How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him? Can you salvage this somehow? “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak. “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh. Well. Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways. There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up. Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over. Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background. It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around. “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though. He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead. “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle. “Alright, I’m up now. See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

No. Nope, you’re not going to get played. That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time. You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore. You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing. He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it. That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it. Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept. You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big. Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected. It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning. Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh. That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time. If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion. You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly? Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show? You have to stop worrying about him. He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving. While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation. You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asks at one point. So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect. He doesn’t need to know. “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though. This is relevant. “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?” He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile. “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range. I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads. We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding. It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way. Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes. He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think. Someone a little less expressive. This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments. “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke. “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle. You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?” You ask. You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn. It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?” He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger. The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that! It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts. Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him. Good, this is almost over. “Um. Yep. That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod. “When you get to the city, just go straight through. It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting. You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line. That might actually be a good move. Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you. Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right? He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to. Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him. He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it. Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly. “Oh, by the way. I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right. You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store. Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside. You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms. Oh well, you weren’t complaining. Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea. You don’t need to change shoes, not yet. Why? Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you. It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories. It’s an eyesore, it sticks out. But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters. Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left. I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself. Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see. An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now. If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know. Let him know exactly where you are. Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling. If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide. He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night. It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on. It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal. Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever. This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think? No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe. Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here. And… and slippers, it’s like a dream. Do people normally wear slippers in bed? You do. Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase. This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways. You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky. Violent and periwinkle tonight. You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair. Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath. Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments. Astute, you feel happy. Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here. Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers. You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth. No face, though. Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance. You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed. You… miss him. This mattress would feel softer with him next to you. He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it. You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles. Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters. “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding. “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you. You love him. Literally every single time, he just knows. Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often. Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again. “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today? How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes? A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal? You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you. “You should be here. I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually. Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting. He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him. He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around. The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead. You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece. “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie. You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible? He read you that deeply from one single word? You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?” He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?” You don’t even know what to believe anymore. How do you beat this? If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out. His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm. “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.” It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…” your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh. He’s right, that was bad, even for you. “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits. You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step. “I’m nowhere near the city yet. You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?” He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.” His voice is gruff. You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “You should give yourself more credit. I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss. It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft. It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.” His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve. “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache. You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are. People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself. For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it. You feel so… known, somehow. Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his. He makes you feel loved with it. “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again. You don’t have to say anything, he already knows. “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip. Oh, stars. You hate that you do genuinely consider it. He could be here, and very soon. With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably. He could take a shower. Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one. You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together. You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you. Let him come. You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?” You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement. You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him. Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone. You like to think you’re both better that way. Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?” Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you. It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it? This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting. Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around. The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?” You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit. He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts. His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know. “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you. “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless. Should you push it? You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip. It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach. “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?” You whisper to him devilishly. Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down. Stars, your heart is already pounding. You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason. He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire. “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me. Or you could find me before I’m finished. Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to. The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels. You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?” You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond. Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing. “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him. Dead silence through the comm. You’re starting to understand. For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice. He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm. If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu. You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece. “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen. “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement. When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy. “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now. “Oh shit, does this holocall? Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him. “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear. “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious. He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you? Really?

“You sure?” You ask softly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d get to see me, where I am. What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop. You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all. Did he decline the transmission request? No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before. Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?” You ask. You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath. “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist? Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?” You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows. You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible. “Can you see… this?” You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?” Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more. “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?” Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed. “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet. Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that. How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?” You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden. Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end. Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight. Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit. “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera. Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?” Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again. Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors. You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop. “But the window is open. And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?” Din immediately challenges. Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that. You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him. It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay. Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently. It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth. “Does it matter? I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?” You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following. You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator. Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself. Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea. No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well. You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place. Is he just that aroused by you? Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again. Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling. Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back. You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible. You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do. It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell. He’ll be able to see it, you think. The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside. It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip. He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something? You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless. It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”

“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

6K notes · View notes