#[[ I feel like a lot of this is just babbled nonsense... my head hurts don't judge me... ]]

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (4) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions and allusions of trafficking and sexualization of reader/finnick by capitol, manipulation of someone's feelings, allusions of past break up, allusions to death/violence, playful banter, no use of y/n, UNEDITED, me trying to write peeta, trauma, allusions to mental illness, survivors guilt

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The couch in all its neon greeness had been the same over the last 6 years. With the same garishly neon blue pillows in obnoxious shapes and as you stared at it it brought back when you and Conway had anxiously sat on it. When you began nervously sucking up to him, playing his sensitive side.

“I'm worried about you." Finnick popped a grape into his mouth as he sat on one of the velvety seats at the table. Honesty was his new approach, to tell you exactly what he was thinking especially if it was about you to force you to do the same. You were only a couple hours into the morning and this was evident.

“Why, Finnick?" You sighed, not in annoyance, well maybe a little bit in annoyance, but mostly the sigh had been one of love.

“I know we've both been back before, but not as tributes. You're going to start thinking about your games again as we go through the same steps. I'm worried you won't stay grounded."

“Yeah, well, I have you and as long as I can be in your arms I'll be okay."

He nodded observing you carefully, to make sure you weren't repressing anything deep within you, but he seemed satisfied for now. “It's not just you, I'm sure we're all going to be thinking a lot about the first time we were in this position." Finnick shrugged, grabbing another handful of grapes.

“Are you gonna be able to stay grounded?" You asked, putting down the knife you were using to butter your toast.

"I've managed this long.” He smirked, leaning forward, "Plus I've got you, angel.” 

You rolled your eyes,"You're so cheesy.”

"What? So it's cheesy when I do it, but not when you do it?”

"Exactly.” You laughed. "Second day of married life and you're already catching on!”

"I'm a fast learner.” He raised his eyebrows, grinning.

The door opened and in came your escort. “Good morning, you two! Glad to see you've broken no more glasses, Finnick." She tutted, her dress was an eyesore to look at. You loved color, but her clashing bright ones made your head hurt.

“Nope, I've remembered my manners, Koalema.” 

"Well that's good! Oh look, we're so close to arrival.” She kept babbling about something probably nonsensical. Koalema, why had you never been able to recall that name? You felt bad for not remembering, but it was so hard when she was flurry of chaos and overstimulation. 

Finnick stood up and held his hand out for you, “Well here we go, angel. Be ready to put on that beloved smile and have those tears ready to spill. They love that about you." You took his hand and pulled yourself out of your seat.

“You don't need any instruction from me, always the charmer."

“Yeah, well I've had longer." The two of you prepared to greet the vultures waiting to eat up upon arrival. Standing in front of the window, hands tightly clasped together ready to gracefully swoop up your audience in their desired fantasy for the final time. 

To smile at the people who had taken everything from you and completely controlled every aspect in your life. How people saw you, your relationship with Finnick, your relationship with yourself and your body, anything that you could think of they had somehow pulled strings in it. All of your life was under their thumb and you realized the lengths you would go to stop that, what would life be like when all you had left was memories that never needed to be reopened?

              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It was beautiful. There was more food than you'd ever be able to eat and not a single scent of the salty seafood you were used to. Bright colors etched into your brain and everything was so modern, so clean. You had no idea what you'd expected, but it blew you away.

“This is where you two will be staying on our way to the Capitol! Isn't it beautiful? No expense has been spared, District 4 has a pretty good reputation of course and we'd like to keep that! So be in awe, but not so much that you forget about that." The garish woman said so cheerfully you were convinced you misheard her.

“No we wouldn't want that." Conway muttered and the woman gave him a sharp smile.

“Make yourselves at home, I do believe the two of you are very lucky and get the one, the only Finnick Odair as one of your mentors this year. Let me check on that and possibly, Odine." Her heels clicked out the room which inexplicably opened just as she stood in front of it.

Home. You'd never see home again, never swim in the comfort of its waters, see your family, lay in the warm sand. Yes, you would if you could win this, but you couldn't. And Finnick, how were you supposed to think about strategy when he would be right there?

“Are you okay?" A soft hand landed on your shoulder and Conway's deep, brown eyes spoke as much comfort as they could for you. Of course you weren't okay, how could you be? But saying that wouldn't endear him into you, so you melted into his touch.

You shook your head, closing your eyes, and sniffling. “What about you? How was your family?" 

“Well at least I'm here with you and they'll be okay, at least they have each other too." Yes, at least you had someone you knew, yet also didn't that make it more difficult? He didn't ask about your family though, maybe if you kept a tally you'd feel less guilty by the end.

“Yeah, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have someone I trusted. I'm just so scared, Conway.” With that you'd erupted into tears and he pulled his arms around you. They weren't stiff, but weren't comforting, not that you really needed his comfort.

“It's okay, we've got each other."

You already hated yourself.

With that the automatic door slid open, but you didn't tear yourself away. You knew who it would be, but he wouldn't believe you if you jumped from him. So you slowly moved your hands to wipe your face and made your voice shake as you let out your sweetest, “Thank you."

He nodded eagerly, he didn't say of course but you could see it in his eyes. A warm, but brisk voice interrupted the moment. “Glad you've already decided to ally with each other, makes it much more difficult when the tributes won't talk to one another." Finnick’s honeycomb sweet voice finally drew your eyes to his.

“Yes, it's an easier angle to work with." A tall woman beside him agreed, you recognized her from the screens, Ondine Afron, she sounded more tired then you'd remembered.

“We’ll be your mentors, teaching you with our experience the best ways to survive, how to get sponsors, and whatever else could help." Finnick grabbed a sugar cube from the bowl by the teapot, examining it before tossing it into his mouth.

Yes and him being a mentor could throw a wrench in your plans. Conway had heard every bit of the emotional rollercoaster that had been Finnick Odair, how could you convince him you loved him instead when the man of all your affections was right there.

“Nice to meet you both." Conway said curtly, he let himself glare slightly at the other man. Usually you'd scold him for this, you weren't the type to want tension, but you needed him to trust you. So you leaned into his side, looking up at him as innocently as you could. Willingly him with every molecule to believe you and for Finnick to leave you alone enough to make your performance more outstanding.

Later that night when you'd wandered the train's halls in a nightgown with a softness like you'd never experienced before, you'd passed by Finnick who had nothing but praise for the plan we could tell you were hatching. Of course he could tell, he knew every morsel of your being. 

“You're so smart, angel, the way you came up with that in a matter of seconds. Being good on your feet like that could save you in the arena." He'd whispered, softly above the mechanical noises your brain had hyper fixated on since your arrival. 

“Don't call me that." You muttered.

He sighed, looking down, “I'm sorry. I'm just-"

“Yeah, I know."

“You know I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if I haven't always been able to tell you what and now I've failed, but here you are, I mean the way you manipulated your eyes like that was brilliant. The audience is going to be under your finger just keep doing what you're doing." Suddenly his hands were around yours, a movement so familiar it made you shudder.

“Finnick, please don't." You tugged your hands, half-heartedly, not really letting them escape his loose grip.

“I'm sorry, I know you don't understand why I hurt you, but it'll all make sense once you win this thing."

“Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, this was a tiring waltz between the two of you. Him claiming it was to protect you while you couldn't know from what, even now when you were on the brink of inevitable death.

“I promise." He stilled all his shifting and movements, sea green eyes boring so deeply into the depths of your heart there was no choice but to trust him. You couldn't help yourself and leaned in, delicately letting your lips graze his cheek.

“I have to go find his room. You know, do what I can." There was slight laughter behind your tone and Finnick nodded, softly smiling.

"My smart girl.” He muttered, glowing in the lamp light. I miss you, your brain screamed as you gazed at him, suddenly the tears you were trying to force up to sell your act were easier to conjure up. So you left him in the dim lights of the train car to convince Conway of how badly you needed his comfort now that you were away from home.

               𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Secret wedding is all anyone can talk about." Your designer, Cambrie, sounded like bright citrus, drinking orange juice for breakfast. “Especially those seaweed rings, so bolstering for my ideas to run their course!" She smiled, clearly full of anticipation for her idea to be revealed to you.

Truthfully you couldn't care less about it, you wanted to be back at Finnick's side. As the years passed being alone with people from the Capitol no matter who they were or what they intended nauseated you. “Oh come on, Cambrie, I'm going to die of anticipation!" You proclaimed with as much drama as you could, pouting.

"Oh you're adorable.” She clapped like you were some sort of performing dog and pinched your cheeks, actually pinched your cheeks. The infantilization made you want to retreat but that would never be an option. “Reignbaugh was going to go with a fishing net to look for Finnick to pay homage to the District of course, and similarly with you I was thinking to draw it together, but the seaweed combined to call back to the rings. Everyone will eat it up, and oh I have a lovely pearl headdress you are going to be stunning!” 

You gushed to her, but internally felt your stomach turn. This really meant she was going to try and show as much as you off as she could. Of course this turned out to be true. The outfit could have been beautiful if in reality it wasn't so dehumanizing. The seaweed running through the fishing net dress that adorned you barely covered your nipples and much of your body was clearly visible to those who stood close enough.

"And of course for the Capitol Princess.” Cambrie announced, placing her elegantly made crown, you had to admit it was beautiful. The way each pearl shined between the seaweed. Although you did think the seaweed usage was over the top, the choice of it for the rings hadn't really been significant, it was just there in a place you both loved. It was marketable though. Her and your other stylists had also gone to great effort to make your eyes look as watery as possible, even adding pearly effects to make it look like you were crying them. It was too all too much, but you oohh’d and awed which they adored you even more for. 

“Don't you look handsome." You remarked all too sarcastically as you approached Finnick and his bare chest. 

“Oh just smile and wave, angel, they're savoring the last time they'll see either of us like this.” It was lighthearted and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, but it did comfort you. Eventually your body would simply be yours again." There she is.” He whispered, your eyes followed him to her, Katniss Everdeen.

“Well you better go make your introduction then."

“Well ladies first." He gestured, expectantly.

“No, I don't think my first introduction should be like this." You pointed up and down the outfit. "You go, it'll seem perfectly on brand for you.”

Finnick nodded, you could tell he had more he wanted to say, to lecture on but there wasn't much time. You looked around the room, toying with the fishnet nervously before you heard someone call your name and looked in the direction.

"Didn't expect you to be the type with nerves.” A voice quickly caught your attention. Peeta Mellark.

"Only at the worst times.” You grimaced, shaking your head. 

Peeta smiled, "Well I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who gets them.” 

"Oh far from it, I bet you 75% of the people in here are trying not to throw up right now.” 

“Which one's are fine then?" He stood by you observing the occupants.

“While obviously it's neither of us, I'm thinking District 11 too many years in for either of them to be worrying."

“1 & 2?"

“Bingo!" You announced, tilting your head.

“Surprised you didn't say Katniss." He remarked.

"Surprised you didn't say Finnick.” You countered.

"The thrills of pretending to not be shaking.” He shook his head with a smirk.

"Masters of that game. In fact she looks like she might just kill him now.” You tried not to laugh at how Katniss looked at Finnick who you knew was trying desperately to work his charms.

"Well, I'd best go save him then.”

"Oh, yes it would only be mildly entertaining.”

"It was nice meeting you, considering the circumstances.” Peeta exuded kindness in a way you could only aspire too, it genuinely hurt your soul.

“Yes, a mind numbing extravaganza thrown here would have been much more enjoyable, as horrendous as that is to say." 

"I only ever attended one and just from that, I ever so gravely attest to that. I better go break the two up before she attacks.”

"Oh please do, can't have him squabbling already.” Peeta smiled and soon enough Finnick was stalking back your way.

"She'll come around.” He assured before you could even open your mouth as the two of you stepped into the carriage.

"I'm sure she will. Peeta and I could feel the tension from a room away.”

"Everybody likes me.”

"I'm sure talking like that is exactly why she doesn't.” You nudged him playfully.

"Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes.

"That's no way to talk to your wife, Mr. Odair.” 

“I apologize, Mrs. Odair." He pulled you in for a kiss just as the carriage came into the bright sunlight, the screaming proved its effectiveness to you. It was sure to leave an impact on them when they looked back on the tribute parade. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all again for your continued reading and support, especially since I feel like this is so slow paced but there's so much I want to get in there. if you enjoyed feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated, as always my inbox is wide open for any thoughts y'all have! so excited for getting into the training parts and some rebellion planning in the next part. love y'all so much, thank you again 💕💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight

[viaoverthemoon]

I have a small request here too✋ I was thinking about Leon (damnation maybe) x fem!reader with reader being his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and the little one falls in love with her and wants to spend more time with reader, and Leon he finds himself forced to accept this, so he falls in love with the reader. It can be with smut at the end or just something romantic, it doesn't matter.

I hope I explained it ok, I've had this idea in my head for some time but I don't know how to express it 😂❤️❤️

Oooo this sounds so cute stawpppp.

Since I have another fic in the works that's drenched in smut, I'll keep this one fluffy. ;)

Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a kindergarten teacher for Leon Kennedy's daughter and she wants to keep you forever!

Tw: Fluff, Mention of deceased relative, Mention of past miscarriage

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Enjoy! <3

To Belong

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"Congratulations, Arabella! It looks like you're our student of the week!"

You gently place the pin on Arabella's shirt, smiling widely at her proud expression.

Being a kindergarten teacher definitely has its downs. But also has its ups as well. One of those ups being the honor of teaching these innocent children. Every day is something new, a new experience that makes you realize the importance of raising the next generation.

Arabella turns towards you, smiling so wide her cheeks must hurt. She grabs onto your leg. "Thank you, Miss (L/N)! This means so much to me!"

You smile down at her, proud of her for using the feelings lesson you'd taught her, and crouch to her level to give her a hug. "You're welcome, Arabella! I'm so proud of you. Thank you for being such a kind student!"

She seems to take your praise very seriously, being super kind to her classmates and staying by you side, asking if you need help or service in any kind of way.

❁

At the end of the day when everyone has left, you sit alone at your desk.

Whilst flipping from one graded paper to another, the door to your classroom creaks open.

You raise your head just in time to see Arabella run into the room, screaming with her arms in the air. "MISS (L/N)!!!!"

You laugh as she runs around your desk and hugs you, babbling nonsense excitedly. "Oh my goodness! Back so soon, Arabella?"

She gives a hyper nod. "Yes!"

"'Yes ma'am', Bella."

Your eyes snap up, locking with a pair of bright blues.

You look at him, surprised.

The man held a strong resemblance to Arabella, minus the straight blonde hair Arabella carried. They shared blue eyes and a soft face. If anything, his rough exterior yet light features suited him. Gave him a mysterious and alluring air that draws people to him, searching to learn more about him.

"Oh- yes ma'am- Daddy look, look! This is the nice teacher I was telling you about!"

You rise from your chair and hold out a hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy."

He shakes your hand and offers a nod. "Pleasure to meet you too, Miss (L/N). As you can see, I've heard quite a lot about you."

He gives his daughter a pointed look that makes you laugh. You gesture to the seat across from your desk, offering him a seat as you settle back into your chair. "I assume there's a reason you're here that I could help you with?"

Mr. Kennedy sits in the chair, seemingly tired as he falls into the seat and instinctively spreads his legs.

You try your hardest not to acknowledge the action, but your eyes fail you, flickering down his frame for half a second before returning to his face.

You instantly regret your mistake when he smirks at you, straightening up just a bit and resting his arms on his legs. "Actually, I was hoping to discuss what Arabella's behaviors are like while she's at school, as well as how she's learning." He pauses. "I mean, obviously if she's getting student of the month for the 2nd time, she's doing pretty good."

He smiles and playfully ruffles Arabella's hair, earning a laugh from the 5-year-old. "But still. It would be nice to hear from her teacher, not her."

You clear your throat and nod, turning away to escape the burn of his gaze and pulling out a folder labeled A.K., Arabella Kennedy's character chart.

"Of course, I understand. Let's start with how she handles assignments."

❁

After about 45 minutes of talking, Leon seems satisfied with his daughter's school life and begins to pack up his things to leave. But Arabella becomes upset, running to you and refusing to let go of your leg.

"No! I'm not ready to say bye to Miss (L/N) yet!"

She throws the standard child tantrum, small tears streaming down her reddened puffed out cheeks as you gently try to coax her into letting go.

"Arabella... Don't be upset. You'll see me again on Monday-"

But she's relentless, shaking her head and kicking away Mr. Kennedy's hands as he tries to reach for her.

Eventually, he sighs and looks at you embarrassingly. "I'm so sorry Miss (L/N). She's hardly ever like this."

Seeing as this is something you deal with all the time, you just shake your head, offering a small smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to this behavior... I'm about to leave for the day. If you guys want, we could go out for a quick dinner? This way, we won't have to part so soon."

This gets the crying 5-year-old to quiet down almost immediately. She looks up from your leg, tears and snot smeared all over your pant leg. "Really? Can we?"

You look up at Mr. Kennedy, raising a brow for conformation. And, seeing as there was no way around it, he gives in.

❁

And from that moment forward, you and the Kennedy family became quite close.

You shared a few dinners and spent time together at amusement parks and entertainment events, eventually becoming so close that you'd even watch Arabella when Leon had to leave for reasons of his job.

You listen to his stories, and he listens to yours.

He shares how he and Arabella have no one else to depend on. Her mother, although she and Leon didn't have a good relationship, had died during childbirth. And how he'd lost his own parents long ago, growing up an orphan and not having much.

And you share only having your parents. You could have had a little one yourself, but unfortunately grieved a harsh miscarriage and the father of the child leaving soon after didn't help.

You both end up having more in common than you'd originally thought.

And now, you share more than just experiences and memories. Now, you share shy looks and ghostly touches.

Somedays his hand will graze yours and you both will avoid each other's gaze, ignoring the sudden spark that comes when you make contact.

That is until, one night Leon returns from a particularly long job to find you curled up on his living room couch with a book in hand, reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose.

"Hey, sorry for the long night. Never meant to be gone that long." He shrugs off his leather jacket and throws it over the arm of his second couch.

You eye his fatigued figure for a moment before removing your glasses and putting down your book. "No, it's alright. You know I don't mind, Leon."

Sitting up, you pat the spot next to you on the couch, offering him a seat. "Arabella's upstairs asleep in her room..." He gives a soft grunt and falls on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck while nodding and muttering a 'Good. Thank you.'

Eyes skillfully assessing his behavior, you decide to ask him the question that's been on your mind. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

He glances at you through his peripheral but instantly looks away. "Yes. I'm fine. You can go now."

In all honesty, the way he suggested you leaving hurt your feelings. But you didn't relent. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to stay..."

Reaching a hand out, you place it on top of his on his lap. He flinches slightly, but doesn't push you away. He pauses for a second...

And then he relaxes, flipping his hand over to wrap it around yours.

Your heart is in your throat and the palms of your hands begin to sweat. But you don't show it, smiling shyly at Leon and holding his hand.

He doesn't look at you. Doesn't show any signs that he acknowledges you besides the fact that he isn't letting go of your hand. "Why do you stay? Why do you want to stay?"

The monotone question catches you off guard. You momentarily freeze as his eyes find you.

Blue frozen glaciers filled with oceans and rivers of pure sadness and regret. The emotion in his eyes makes you briefly wonder where he finds the space for the happiness he feels with Arabella.

Or if he'll have the space for happiness with you.

You take a moment to think, looking down at your linked hands and gliding a thumb over the warmth of his skin. "I feel happiest when I'm here with the two of you. As you know, I don't have much. All I've had to look forward to has been my students... but now... I have the both of you."

You look him in the eyes, trying to convey your emotions through the look in yours. "These past few weeks have been the best I've lived through in years... I'm tired of living alone, Leon. Life is worth so much more when you spend it with somebody else."

He looks at you in shock, not sure what to say about your sudden confession. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to choose the right words to say.

You look away bashfully. "Er- What I'm trying to say is... I'd like it if we could spend... more time together. And see each other more often. But-! It's completely up to you, of course."

For a moment, the silence is nerve wracking. You try not to fidget too much or show that you're anxious in awaiting his answer.

You're beginning to lose hope when Leon's hands are suddenly on your hips.

You're so surprised by his actions that you hardly notice him gently coaxing you into sitting on his lap.

Your legs straddle his thighs, backside rested on his knees when you suddenly notice your position. Your face burns hot, and you rest your hands on his shoulders.

His hands find purchase on your waist. "If I'm being honest, I expected you to leave us a long time ago... I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't think you'd stay."

He caresses your sides, warm hands heating through the fabric of your clothes. "And... I would like it- a lot if you stayed with us. Not only would you make me happy, but you'd make Arabella happy too. And that matters more than anything."

You pretend to ponder on your decision, looking away with a small smile on your face before turning back to Leon. "Well... I guess I can stick around-"

The sentence barely leaves your lips before Leon pulls you in, kissing you with so much relieved passion that you momentarily feel dizzy.

And for once, you feel like you truly belong somewhere.

Yes. This feeling is definitely one you can get used to.

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Nobody: My inbox screaming and crying for help: 😓😭😭☠️ Me with 0 internet or data: 🧍🏾‍♀️💃📖

Hope you enjoyed!

More requests coming soon!

Requests are open!! <3

[wolfs-archive]

"She is my love, I won't hurt her either way."

Masterlist

Summary: Kim Y/N, the only twin sister of Kim Seungmin confesses to Seo Changbin after a drunk night.

Pairing: Student!SeoChangbin X Student!Y/N X Student!KimSeungmin.

Genre: slightly maybe angst, fluff, drunk confessions.

Note: Y/N is jut a bossy girl but kind at heart. The Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin or the other members mentioned here are no where related to the idol Stray Kids and are just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

"Seugmin, we are about to arrive at your house, can you come pick up Y/N at the door? She is completely wasted." asked Mina, Y/N's friend and college mate. "Aishh!!! This Y/N, Okay, I'll come" said Seungmin.

It was a Saturday night with semester exams over, Seungmin had called over his friends to have fun at his house. Seungmin, a music major had 7 other friends who were pursuing the same major as him. They had a mini band in college called the Stray Kids. One of the wildin groups of the college which were known well for their self producing music and winning a lot of competitions overseas. Kim Y/N, a twin of Seungmin but younger to him by a minute. Always boss around her close mates also her brother's friends. Pursuing her designing course in the same college as Seungmin. A known brat. Is very close to her 2 friend's Mina and Yeri. Actually has a big fat secret crush on Changbin, but afraid that her might turn her down and hence has had all the thoughts to herself.

"What the hell, Kim Y/N, I get that you have completed the semester, but I really am feeling embarrassed to take you into the house with all my friends there, look at you how flushed your face is, so red. Don't you know your limits?" Seungmin threw a fit of rage as he helped her walk all the way from the entrance to their door. "Stap it, don't yell, hab I eveer toldd mumm , dad about haw yov came houme that day gettung drank?" she babbled. "Stop your nonsense, can't even form coherent sentences but look at how wide your mouth goes when it comes to complaining about me" he said as he took her inside. "Woah Y/N, never knew that the girl who bossed us around will come home one day getting drunk" said Felix as he saw Seungmin finding it difficult to carry her where as Chan immediately gave him a helping hand. "Leave me" she said as she left their grasp and started walking towards Changbin, as she was about to fall down, he went to catch her, but instead, went near him with wobbly legs, and in a minute, before anyone could understand what was going on, she just crashed her lips on his and wrapped her arms around his neck pushing his head with her hands even further for the kiss. When Changbin broke out, looking at others with astonishment, Y/N said "Hey baby, yov look handshome always and I lob yov as I always hab, I jast missed yov."saying so, she fell unconscious. "This daughter of a ...." as Seungmin started, he was interupted by Hyunjin, "She is your dad's daughter, don't forget that when you're cussing" he said smirkingly. "What just happened here" asked Lee Know. "Woah, Seo Changbin, never knew you were in a relationship, especially Y/N, Kim Y/n" said I.N. "No wonder, she used to work you up so much. Now I get it" said Han. "You jerk, how dare you?" Seungmin was about to punch Changbin when Chan had stopped him. " Seungmin, I swear, this has nothing to do with me, I never ever had such intentions" he lied. "Don't lie, I have always seen you picking her up and dropping her after class, getting her chocolates when I you know her bad days more than me. You think I'm dumb, I literally know what's going on between you, but I trusted you wouldn't do something I would not like, but woah, this is worse than backstabbing" he yelled. "Seungmin, I get that, I have always had feelings for her, the first day when I saw her in the library with all that sassy attitude I fell for her, but when I knew you were her brother I completely threw those thoughts into the gutter, because I values friendship more than my own interest. Y/N used to call me to pick her up that's why I used to drop her. Just like you, this came as a shock for me too." he said. "I guess we all should leave now" said Chan and everyone left the house including Changbin.

"Morning Seungmo, my head hurts, thanks for taking me to my bed" said Y/N as she sat on the kitchen counter to see what Seungmin was preparing for breakfast. "Woah, thanks to you too, I have had a sleepless night and a headache. We have something to talk and Changbin will arrive here now" he said. "Oh, Binnie is coming? Why? Why not others?" she asked curiously. "That's because Binnie had a big role to play yesterday, the others were not involved. That's why" he replied with annoyance. "Wth, I don't understand anything, would you mind explaining, Kim Seungmin" Y/N scoffed. "Shouldn't you be the one explaining bout yesterday kissing Changbin?" he asked as he saw the horrified expression on her face. "What are you telling?Oh my gosh, my head is hurting. I'm going to my room to rest." she said. "Don't do your dramas over here. Drama queen; pretending like you don't know. I know how you have been acting lately when it comes to others and always having a soft spot for Bin, i just thought you would toss it out but yesterday, did you know how embarrassing it was when you kissed him infront of the others." he said. "And on top of that, you called him baby, not to mention, you have been asking him to drop you off classes, buy you chocolates during your cycles? What is this Y/N? How would you feel if I dated Mina or Yeri?" he asked. "I don't mind unless they are fine with it" she mocked. "That's not the point Kim Y/N" he yelled when they were stopped by calling bell. "Come in Bin" Seungmin invited him.

"Look her, I don't know what you both are upto. But I really don't want to loose either of you. After giving things a lot of thought yesterday night. I feel there can be no other person who can take care of you as Changbin does and no one can love you as Y/N does. But don't forget the fact that both of you are equally important to me. I can't stand loosing Bin as a friend, at the same time Y/N is important in my life too, not to mention she is my sister. I'm going inside, just you to talk it amongst yourselves" he said as he was about to leave to his room. "Stop Seungmin, just be here and listen to the entire thing. Seo Changbin, there's no more hiding in it. I like you, sorry I love you and have always loved you. They say drunken words are sober thoughts, so I don't think I need to explain if I'm just goofing around or if I'm serious. I really love you and want to marry you. I just can't imagine a life without you. If you don't like me then fine, I'll try my best to impress you. Still if you don't fall for me, then I'll make sure never to cross your line ever in life. You exactly, have 2 minutes to make up your....." before she could finish, she was shut with a kiss. "I knew something, like this would happen, that's why I told I'll wait inside." Seungmin said as he went inside his room hitting his head in annoyance. "Kim Y/N, I too love you, have been loving you since the day I saw you in library fighting against a senior, but when I knew you were Seungmin's sister, guilt swept over me. As a man of principles, I chose to be loyal to my friend rather than deceiving him. I will you love me the same way for your rest of your life? I'll always be around you. Let's love like there's no tomorrow, get married, share our family name, build a small family and live happily ever after." said Changbin. "Kim Seungmin, come out, we are not doing anything unholy" he said. "What?" Seungmin questioned. "From now on, Y/N is mine. I'm leaving what's mine in your presence. Please take care of her when I'm not here." he said. "As if I'm going to throw Y/N out of the window, the moment you step out" he said. "Dare you to" he replied. "Also just in case I'm not being a boomer, but yea no sleeping together, no having unholy stuffs, and no dirty talks both of you. You can cuddle and kiss her maybe. But yea no staying over here for a night, no going on late night or out of town dates. Anywhere you take Y/N, bring her here by 8:00. And yea don't ever allow her to drink. She is such a menace when drunk. Didn't you see yesterday? he scoffed. "Only because of that I could find my love" he said smiling looking at Y/N "And yea, just because she is my sister, no taking advantage of her. If you dare to make her cry, trust me I'll break all the fingers making you not able to lift even a single weight and slit your throat that you won't be able to sing again not to mention about you rapping." he said. "She is my love, I won't hurt her either way." he said.

[mediocreanomaly]

May we have Livio&Razlo nsfw hc please? 👀

Authors Note: LMAO I was dead ass working on a draft for this but since you asked so nicely I'll finish it and put it here <3 (Because these men kinda own my thoughts ngl...)

*Gender neutral reader but afab anatomy used*

Livio & Razlo NSFW HC's

•Livio is, at first, very scared of hurting you due to both the fact he isn't used to kind touches and the large size difference between the two of you (I don't care how tall you are this man is taller and larger)

•So you'll need to take the lead at first with him. You'll also need a lot of prep work though because his body isn't just for show, he's packing a lot below the belt too.

•The best way to prep you? Letting Livio eat you out until you're legs are trembling and even then if you push his head away he'll keep going. This is something he's a little more confident at, bullying his head between your thighs, letting his tongue do all the work to make you come apart. Honestly if you ever let him he could probably finish like this without even touching himself, your pleasure is his pleasure

•But as fun as that is...how does the phrase go? Save a horse ride a cowboy? The best position for Livio is to ride him, it makes him feel better that you have most the control and if he ever hurts you you can just pull away (not that he ever would hurt you, not even if you asked him to he's too much of a sweetheart)

•Livio is down right lewd to watch in bed. You'll straddle his hips, riding his cock thats thick enough that you can feel it pressing against your womb and Livio just..takes it

•If he's feeling shy he'll throw an arm over his face but you won't have any of that, cooing sweet words to him as you pull his arm away only to be greeted by the sinful sight of Liv straight up drooling over you, eyes pricking with tears of pleasure as his large hands come up to squeeze at your hips

•He's so pretty to watch, and he gets fucked out real easy. Not in the way that he can't keep going, no this mans stamina is unheard of you'll almost always have to tap out first, I just mean he gets love drunk, just babbling nonsense grunting out things like

"So pretty-" "please don't stop" "need it please" "s'more?"

•While his voice is still all deep with lust. Honestly you could probably get off from the way he talks alone. The best part is the more rounds you go the most he loses himself to the feelings so he'll get a little more bold, grabbing your hips and bring you down like a fuck toy in his grip whining

"m'sorry- need more please- ah s'good" while he does

•When he finishes...ah this man cums a lot. He'll whimper and throw his head back as you feel his release spill in and then out of you making both your thighs sticky. As much as he'll apologize for it...he's secretly proud of it

•Aftercare is important! Please, this man wants to make you happy so bad. Tell him how good he did, how sweet he is, that he made you feel good while you run your fingers through his hair. He'll melt under your touch and after sex cuddles are assured

•Razlo on the other hand-

•Everything about the body Livio frets about are things Razlo thinks are great. His strength? yeah no, he's not afraid of it, in fact he loves to play it up

•One of his favorite things to do is show you how much of a size difference he has over you, he'll grab your waist and fuck you standing up, pull you down on his cock over and over, using you like a life size fuck doll

•He enjoys fingering you too, he's big and just one of his fingers is like three of yours so he likes to get you to the edge and he's a bit mean

"What? You're going to cum already? You need it so bad you can't even wait to be on my dick? Show me how bad you want it then, cum on my fingers"

•He also likes pushing you down on the bed, fucking you from behind as he grunts and says lewd things.

"shit- yeah you like that? You like being my fuck toy? Like getting treated like a slut? Damn, too cock drunk to even respond huh?"

•Also, while Livio prefers just you, Raz is no stranger to sex toys. He likes tying you up, watching your spit drip from the ball gag in your mouth as he fucks you stupid

•Sometimes to tease you he'll tie you up and have you sit on your knees in front of his aching cock, not allowed to move as he strokes himself in front of you until he paints your face with his cum

•Speaking of cum...he's like a feral dog when he's about to cum. He'll bend you over, hitch your leg up his shoulder, bending you as far as you can go and thrust with abandon, basically growling as his finger's rip at the bed sheets, only stopping once he spills into you and even then he'll add a few more lazy thrust just to make sure it's fucked deep into you

•Razlo is actually very good at aftercare, he knows he pushes your limits but he loves you. He'd never actually want to cause you distress, he's also fiercely protective so he'll be damned if you ever have a sub drop while he's there

•He'll run you a bath and praise you, telling you how good you were for him, how nice you look as his large hands massage your aching muscles where the ropes dug into your skin

•But things get even more interesting when they share you for the night. I hope you're a switch because the transfer between crybaby Liv to domineering Raz is sure to send your mind reeling in a good way

•One thing Raz kinda gets off to, especially when Liv is still a bit unsure of himself, is showing him "how it's done".

•Raz will front but leave Livio co-consious letting him watch as he fucks you, if he's feeling ornery he might even add in a few

"This is how you do it-" "look how fucked out they already are"

he'll go until you've cum twice and he's already spilled his load into you, then he'll chuckle and let Liv front telling him to have fun with his sloppy seconds

•and he does...Livio doesn't even mind that you're already filled with cum, he'll press right back in as you whine babbling

"I know baby I know- ah so good, can I fill you up even more? Please let me?"

•He'll attempt to recreate what Razlo did, I'll be it a bit more timid and with a lot more whimpering than he did, but he'll be more likely to chase after his own high which is a okay with you because at this point you're so sensitive that you could probably cum from this alone. Still, Livio is a giver to his core so he'll still reach between your thighs urging you to finish at the same time as him

•It goes the other way too though, sometimes Livio will be letting you ride him a whimpering moaning mess under you as you take care of him, and he'll finish early spilling into you only to let Raz switch in and finish you off. You'll watch as Livs unsure hands fisting at the sheets switch to Razlos strong hold as he grabs your hips and thrust up into you, ready to drive you over the edge

•Other times to tease each other depending on what mood their in, they'll force one another to just stay co-conscious as they fuck you. Whether it's Livio trying to rile Razlo up, as Raz makes annoyed comments while sweet Liv gets to come apart under your caring hands. Or Razlo trying to get to Liv while he watches quietly as Razlo takes you over and over again practically preening with the audience he knows is there

•Don't worry they don't mind sharing you. In fact it's the prefect balance. The three of you are more than happy with the little arrangement you have going on and what can you say? You love your boys

[o-kaythislooksbad]

ailesswhumptober day 24: deconditioning / relapse / "it's normal that you need more time"

chapter 3 / 7 of i'm too close to breaking | rated t, chose not to warn

herschel scuttles up and down the walls, leaving massive webs in his wake. dorothy's room is all but his now, but she can't care about that, not with manny being dead and it all being her fault. papa has yet to offer his condolences, spending his time instead with baby doll while she mourns katy. 

"it's not fair!" dorothy yells at flying robert, because he doesn't do anything but fly around while babbling. he can't scold her like darling-come-home or beat her and shout nonsense like damn all, so she can yell all she wants as long as they're not around. "baby doll is the one who got katy killed! she shouldn't have tried setting manny on fire; of course he would fight back!"

"hey, kid?" cliff peeks his head into the room. the spiderwebs unfortunately can't tickle his nose or make his skin itch, and are absolutely useless at preventing him from going where he doesn't belong. "you doing okay?"

cliff may have a robot's body, but he still has a man's brain. he should know better than to ask such an obvious question. 

"no," she replies shortly. "and i have no interest in hearing you lecture me about the consequences of playing where we shouldn't have been."

"lecture you?" cliff asks, his eyes shuttering and creaking as he blinks in confusion. "i don't do that shit, kid. the moralizing is your dad's department, the game plans are vic's; i talk a hell of a lot but in case you haven't noticed, i don't say much worth listening to."

dorothy actually laughs a bit at his self-awareness, then stops herself. she doesn't want to be happy! manny, the last thing connecting her to mum, is dead. papa has abandoned her in favor of the stupid baby. everything hurts and nothing is worth laughing about.

"then stop talking!" dorothy yells, but it isn't her own voice that she hears. it's like the candlemaker is speaking through her, closer than ever to finally freeing himself. 

cliff's body whirs and clicks as he brushes the webs out of the doorway. "i can't pretend to know how you're feeling, but it's normal that you need more time to process all of this shit."

dorothy has had nothing but time for most of her short, long, life, and it hasn't been much of an advantage. "i don't care about time."

"well, okay then. how'd you feel about space?"

---

cliff hadn't been lying. one of the garages does have two spaceships parked in it, with the keys and space suits on a shelf behind them. she's about to ask if he's sure that they're allowed to use them, but stops herself. who would they ask, anyway? papa would most likely tell them off, and she's sick of hearing from him about all the things she can't do. she hadn't been allowed to see where all the butterflies returned to, or stay at danny's party, or even play with baby doll any more. 

"do you know how to fly?" she asks instead, and finds it thrilling that cliff merely shrugs in response. 

"how hard can it be?"

much to dorothy's surprise, cliff's question hadn't been rhetorical. the ship is simple, with controls similar to some of the computer games vic had hauled up from one of the basements. they settle on a course for the moon, with the reasoning that of all the planets, it's the only one they know of that humans can actually walk on, and then a silence builds and all there is around them is time. 

"stupid time," dorothy mutters. 

"yeah, turns out we can't just teleport there." cliff shrugs, and dorothy, for the lack of other conversation topics, asks him how that works. "what? i don't know, kid, it's like breathing. or it would be, if i could do that. it's like walking and talking; my brain tells my body what to do, and that's what happens."

dorothy turns her attention to the stars. cliff can't compete with the view, and for once, he lets the quiet wash over them.

….

"cliff?" she asks, after they've taken a few leaps from the ship's landing site. this spot is as good as any for manny's grave.

"yeah?"

"why would baby doll say that my father hurt her? that he hurt you and everyone else in the house?"

cliff stops trying to build… whatever it is he was trying to build out of the moon rocks. robot fingers aren't very nimble, even without earth's gravity. he stares at dorothy, sighs, then sits on the edge of a crater. "baby doll can be a bit much."

"it's all right, cliff. i know you want to call her a bitch. i want to call her that, too," dorothy says, surprising herself.

"go for it," cliff encourages her. "personally, i wouldn't say that about a little kid, but we're on the freakin' moon. we can say or do whatever we want to up here. who's gonna stop us?"

the candlemaker insists that they should use cliff's words as an invitation to really let loose, but the candlemaker can shove off for now. 

"she is a bitch," dorothy declares, feeling not a single ounce of shame. it's a cruel thing to say about someone, but she can't help how she feels. "what do you mean, a bit much?"

"better start keeping track. you're gonna hit twenty soon, then boom! game over," he grumbles. "look, you're a kid, right, but you've been a kid forever. that hasn't stopped you from learning about the world and how life works. baby doll… she doesn't know as much as you do about that shit. she's little and emotional and damn, is she just full to the brim with emotions."

dorothy frowns, pausing her construction. cliff may have a point; dorothy is eleven and has lived at that age for a very long time. baby doll is five, but dorothy has no idea how many years she's actually experienced. 

"i was being mean," she admits, "but so was she! she lied about papa, and she killed manny!"

"she really didn't. you asked me earlier how i could talk? your dad had a recording of my voice and used it to recreate something resembling a dictionary. he also had a whole bunch of other nerdy neural things, but that recording…" cliff stands up and starts punching a rock. it doesn't even give off any dust as his metal knuckles slam into it. "he got that message and my brain after causing a whole series of fuck-ups, which, i admit, i did play a part in. and manny's not any deader than katy."

"if katy's not dead, then why is baby doll so upset?"

"if manny's not dead, then why are you?" cliff counters. 

"stop it! i saw them burn, i -"

"kid. dorothy," cliff corrects himself, and that's how she knows he's serious. "your friends, like jane's… they're imaginary, but also real. i'm really not supposed to talk about jane's, so i won't, but all you need to know is they're whatever you picture them to be. you guys got scared, which is totally normal, and katy and manny tried to help you." he turns to face her, as if what he's saying makes any sense. "what i'm trying to say is that you saw them fight and destroy each other, because it felt like they did, right? they stopped you and baby doll from hurting each other, and left once it was clear you wouldn't do that."

the candlemaker urges dorothy to hurt cliff, to punish him for his lies. the rest of her friends aren't there to balance out his voice; they seem to have remained in the manor, which means… "he only went away for a while?"

"yeah. kinda like what we're doing now, just taking a bit of a break from it all."

that shocks dorothy almost as much as the news about manny. "no! i'm staying up here. i'm a horrible person and i can't be in the world when all i do is hurt people and cause trouble."

cliff sighs and moves to sit beside her. "that helmet really isn't meant for a forever kinda thing. and the truth is, we're all a bit horrible. we all hurt each other, sometimes by accident and sometimes on purpose. sometimes we hurt so much that it feels like everyone else has to be in on it, so we end up hurting them before they can hurt us. mostly we're all just trying to be less alone without actually knowing how to do that. you're not alone, dorothy, even though you want to be alone. it's gonna be hard to prove that to you if you insist on staying up here."

dorothy sniffles. she doesn't mean to cry, especially from anything cliff says, but he doesn't tease her. he only holds out his hands and suggests they go on a scavenger hunt before going home, "because holy fuck, we're on the fucking moon!" and soon she's smiling again. 

"thank you, cliff."

"don't mention it, kid."

[renticat]

ROMANCE ROMANCE AND RESENTMENT

I can't sleep. There are too many things in my head right now, and plenty of rages and regrets.

How do I begin? Because I keep talking the same thing over and over again just because I have no chance in sight to feel another new feeling other than hurts.

I mean when I said I like watching romance is the part when they're fucking inseparable and not the part when the other person completely lost fucking interest, making the other person who is still madly in love, fucking going insane because I told you again, one sided feeling is not a joke. It hurts that much even when you're experienced fellow like me, it still does hurt sometimes.

Well bold of me to assume I have one sided feeling, truth is I mostly fall in for their ideal version they presented on me at the very first beginning. You know first impression matters so fucking much until it become an irony that people only doing "their best" the first time only, and maybe twice or thrice but after that is like you're meeting someone completely fucking different.

So it's time to run then? Clearly they're just faking it to get your attention. For people who have the right mind and attitude, sure. But do you know there's ton people that also delusional fucking romantic like me thinking well I guess this is the real romance so I have to endure it because it's only sweet and uncomplicated on the books but in real it has to be fucking this way.

But then they say healthy relationship is not going feel that way. Yeah because once I ever ran into someone who love me as much I love her and everything is perfect, until I am the one who fucked it all up, mostly but you can't blame me that much I mean you can but I was in dark deep abyss, battling my own demon and all those demons people sent that for me.

I never say it was romance, but it sure a relationship that I feel I can be myself while figuring everything about myself. She taught me how to be brave, when all the boys only taught me to depends on them. I mean one day they're just gone like that so it's clearly crazy advice to give when you're not dependable to begin with. I don't fall slowly though, even her almost frustrated like how to make me believe, that she fucking cares, a lot.

Because I can't chill, I always fast forward to this now future that she's gonna left me stranded alone and oh boi it's true. My fat mostly but she has her own fucking life now when I am not in the frame anymore. And I am happy about her, genuinely. It's just that why she had to hurt me like any other boys who give me broken promises and she did. She should have known better not to cross this line because for me, broken promises is just like love that is a lie. They never really care about you but themselves and wanting me to seen them as fucking angel when they knew deep down they ain't it.

Never have I ever promising someone anything unless I really mean it. It's like an oath for me, a bridge for trustworthiness. For someone who has been fucked over and over again, this shit matter to me. And also for someone who constantly raised in fucking contradictory realm, the fulfilling of any promises is the only thing I can count on. If someone being real or just babbling about feeling (even though some people also good at putting up a show when they're still have no intention to be with you forever) well at least they put an action and I appreciate that.

It fills me with fucking rage. I am so mad right now, because I am ready. I am ready but she isn't the same person that I knew, I guess her judgement of me reversed now. Religious people won't admit they're feeling superior than other people who does not holding the same faith, or worse to the atheist like me (if they're truly religious and believing their own bullshit) because they think they're gonna be saved and choose the right fucking thing when you, clearly are stupid for ignoring the obvious (obvi for them but nonsense for me). That's but stay humble because they do want it to rub it on you on some fucking way.

Okay see I forgot what I am about to say (It was so long back then but my point stays the same). Being zealout, pious is just like thinking their way of life is soo good that others must do it to otherwise they're all evil.

I changed my headset because you know the old ones is broken but even this one, the mic is not clear anymore (probably because I accidentally just slept on it like you kyle) yeah so, I envy people that can record themselves with good gears as my voice is actually sexy though and not this bad lol lol.

[bravxryy]

💌 character study.

💌 CHARACTER STUDY SUBJECT: maka albarn

💌 Tagged by: @divergentpersonas @admeliiora you da bestest ^~^ 💌 Tagging: 

💌   —    BASICS.

▸IS YOUR MUSE TALL/SHORT/AVERAGE? shes so tiny and smol!! 5′3″ ▸ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? ehhhh not really. mostly because shes given so much flack for how tiny she is. she compares herself a lot to the other girls around her and shes the smallest out of all of them  ▸WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? thin straight sandy blond ▸DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR AND GROOMING? not that she would ever admit. when it comes to school shes more focused on the academics but when it comes to going out with the gang, she does try and put the effort forward.  ▸DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE/WHAT OTHERS THINK?  maka really does care, as much as she doesnt want to. shes jealous of the attention other girls get ((though she doesnt necessarily want it)) and doesnt want others to leave her or abandon her for any reason. 

💌   —    PREFERENCES.

▸INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? outdoors ▸RAIN OR SUNSHINE? sunshine ▸FOREST OR BEACH? forest ▸PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? metals ▸FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? flowers ▸PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? personality ▸BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? being in a crowd ▸ORDER OR ANARCHY? order ▸PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? painful truths ▸SCIENCE OR MAGIC? magic ▸PEACE OR CONFLICT? peace ▸NIGHT OR DAY? day ▸DUSK OR DAWN? dusk ▸WARMTH OR COLD? warmth  ▸MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? few close friends ▸READING OR PLAYING A GAME? reading

💌   —    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? stubborn as all hell. like seriously. her refusal to change her mind once its set gets her into a lot of bad situations. she is also very motivated by her emotions, which can often make her reckless.  ▸HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? so her mom leaving her... that really wrecked her world;; maka has a really hard time accepting and forgiving her father for cheating on her and an even harder time accepting that her mother left her. her fear of rejection largely stems from this abandonment  ▸WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? even though she would never admit it,��Maka’s memory of her childhood, before her mother left, are her happiest. thinking back to when her family was whole:: when mama was around and papa worshipped only mama... it’s a time she knows she can never get back, but there are times when her heart longs for that safe familiar comfort  ▸IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? one hundred percent no. when it comes to reaping souls and preventing kishin, thats one thing, but to kill an innocent is something nearly impossible for her.  ▸WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? silent tears and self directed anger. there is a difference between an aggressive, angry episode, and a breakdown, and when maka breaks down, it’s almost always directed at her self and ends in excessive training and hostility towards people who try to redirect her aggression. you can't fix anything that goes wrong in the world, you can only fix yourself;; thats where you have all of the control.  ▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? of course. it takes a lot to get her to that point, especially because of the examples shes seen of trust and disappointment. but the entire meister weapon relationship revolves around trust, and she recognizes that.  ▸WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? no chance, no way, I won't say it no no. getting maka to admit she's in love is like trying to get a bird to admit it can fly. you can see it, I can see it, but a bird can't talk so it really can't admit to anything. that probably doesn't make sense... anyway -- maka in love is soft and sweet underneath the childlike meanness that comes with liking someone. 

[emelkae]

Meeting Your OCs Tag

Thanks for the tag, @catharticallysarcastic!

Rules: write a short snippet about if your OCs ever met you irl (or in their world, that’s up to you) and write about the conversation they would start with you (or you would start with them). Then tag some people

I love this concept, but I had a problem justifying why the War Machines and I would ever have a conversation unless I made my reason for being there a little more interesting. So my answer might have ended up kinda unconventional. It's also longer than I'd expected, about 700 words. Under the cut:

Every writer's gotten lost in their own story before. It feels amazing, that moment when you slip into the words and let them carry you off to a place where the world inside is vivid, real, almost tactile.

Not every writer gets stuck. I did.

I didn't notice it at first. I just thought I'd reached that much-beloved "flow state" that looks more like hyperfixation in brains like mine. It wasn't as if my characters usually stick to my plans for them or anything, so I didn't question it when Briar's eyes snapped away from the command center's starry viewscreen to look in my direction. They narrowed, the quirk of his eyebrows turning his frown from one of surprise to curiosity.

Claw frowned too, but only concern lurked in his face. "What's up?"

"I... I don't know," said Briar, wringing his hands. "I can feel someone that way." He pointed toward me, which is when I started to realize something was off about the story, but I didn't really grasp it. "It feels like a person. But there's nobody there."

"Like a ghost," gasped Lug, stroking the cat in his enormous arms.

"I didn't think you believed in ghosts, kid," Claw chuckled.

The Repair Units swiveled in their chairs, each running their white eyes over the far wall of the command center.

"Are you referring to that shadowy corner?" Circuit said. "That would be Sharpe you're feeling, then."

Oh, is that where Sharpe had gone? I had a lot of characters, so I tended to lose track of quiet ones like Sharpe. I turned toward him to see what sort of position he was standing in—only to find a pistol barrel nearly stuck in my nose, so close to my eyes that they crossed.

"How did you get in here?" he hissed.

The command center exploded with motion. The Repair Units jumped from their seats with their pistols drawn, Lug pounded across the center toward me, and Claw shoved Briar behind him, unsnapping his crossbow from his backpiece. To my shame, I slid down the wall and tucked my knees up to my chin instead of running or even saying a word. My hands were by my head, palms out, and I wasn't sure when I'd put them up.

"Hey, wait," said Briar, "they're not gonna hurt us. They're scared."

"They should be," growled Sharpe, and I assumed the next thing I saw would be the white flare of the laser bolt he'd send into my skull.

I didn't expect Briar to come out from behind Claw and make hesitant steps toward me. Claw moved with him, his hand on the boy's shoulder, and I had no idea where to look. They were all huge, staring down at me with such hard and distrustful faces.

"I-I don't know," I babbled. "I'm not. I don't... How?"

At my nonsensical words, they lowered their weapons and glanced at each other. My cheeks went red. This was either a dream or some kind of break from reality, and I still couldn't talk like a normal person, even to my own characters. Nobody moved until Gamma hopped from Lug's arms and sniffed at one of my hands. I rubbed her face, mumbling something like "oh my god," which made Lug laugh and reach toward me.

"Kitty likes you!" he said. "Good enough for me."

I reached slowly for his hand, which enveloped mine as he pulled me to my feet with no effort at all.

"I'm not supposed to be here," I said stupidly.

Claw snorted. "No kidding. Circuit, Mobo, take the Warrior planetside so we can drop off our stowaway."

"I don't think that'll help. I don't know how I got here. Or I can't remember."

The Repair Units' eyes brightened in fascination. They'd settled back into their chairs, but they rose again and moved toward me with scanners in hand. I'd never realized exactly how in sync they were, so watching their identical golden faces was dizzying.

I could only tell Mobo apart from Circuit when his gruff voice spoke. "Amnesia, then? What's your name?"

"Emel."

"You remember that. Huh."

And they both fell silent, probably lapsing into thoughtvoice as they scanned me.

I got stuck in my story, but I guessed that wasn't all bad. Maybe I'd wake up tomorrow back in my bed. For now, I just stood still and let them scan me, feeling the others' gazes like something palpable on my face.

Open Tag! Also tagging: @avrablake @drabbleitout @nopoodles @talesofsorrowandofruin @my-writblr @the-finch-address @writingonesdreams @muddshadow @sleepyowlwrites

[batgurl1989]

Welcome Home Part Two

Summary: Sy meets his daughter for the first time.

Word Count: 1440

Warnings: Fluff, anxiety

A/N: I'm sorry for the cliffhanger earlier during Welcome Home. As an apology, here is the second part. If you would like to be on my taglist, let me know :)

Taglist: @rmtndew @princesssterek

I felt myself get nervous as we pulled into the driveway. Aika sat with her head out the window, and I was snuggled up against Sy on the bench seat. As Sy shifted the truck into park and killed the engine, the energy in the cab changed. He was nervous too, which nearly killed me.

Taking a deep breath, he patted my thigh where his hand had been resting for the drive. Time to get out. Aika climbed over my lap and out the driver side when Sy got out. I watched him wipe his hands on his pants several times as I climbed out of the truck, before reaching into the truck bed for his bag. He adjusted it several times before turning toward the house.

"Hey, Sy." I slid my arm around his back when I stepped up beside him. He tried to casually drape his arm around my shoulders, but I could feel the tension in it holding his muscles rigid. I patted the centre of his chest, rubbing slightly, something I always did when he needed to calm down. His blue eyes finally found mine, and in them I saw all the fears and doubts he was feeling. "You will do great."

He nodded, turning to look back at the house. I knew my words did little to assuage him, but there was nothing I could say that would make this easier. Gently sliding my hand into his, I started for the house when the front door open.

Sy stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in place by the sight that greeted him. My mom stood in the doorway, but that's not what made him pause. In her arms was a bouncing, babbling bundle of wild dark curls. And she was reaching for him.

"Dada!" She screamed excitedly, trying to bounce herself out of my mom's arms to get to him. Her little fists working overtime, trying to reach for him.

"You better go grab Abbie before she hurts my mom." I laughed, encouraging Sy to go meet his daughter for the first time in person. They had seen each other before only on Skype, so this moment was huge for all of us.

"Dada. Dada. Dada." Abbie chanted as Sy made his way across the lawn in a direct line for her, not caring about stomping through the garden that lined the walkway.

"Abbie." I watched my husband sigh as my mom handed his daughter to him. He buried his nose in her wild curls, which she got from him, though you wouldn't know it from how short he had to keep his hair. He took several deep breaths, basking in that baby smell that no one could replicate.

Abbie grabbed his beard, giggling as Sy's breath tickled her. In true baby fashion, she zeroed in on his dog tags, and began to play with them. Sy stopped her before she put them in her mouth, which I was forever thankful for. Those dog tags had been all over the world and were probably covered in all sorts of germs. Sy tucked them under his shirt, and Abbie was content to go back to playing with his beard.

"I'm going to head out, and let you three settle." My mom patted my arm after stepping inside to get her purse.

"Charlene, thank you so much for watching her." Sy's head snapped up when he heard my mom say she was leaving. He floundered for a moment, trying to find the right words. She smiled knowingly at him, and patted his arm as well.

"It's good to have you home, Sy." My mom kissed his cheek, then Abbie's before making her way to her car.

"Don't worry about it. She knows." I assured Sy, picking his bag up off the porch where he had dropped it. "Burgers sound good for dinner?"

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

It was late that night when I was roused from my sleep. I reached out for the comfort of my husband, something I did every night while he was across seas. I frowned when I didn't find him there. I rolled over, now fully awake, trying to discern if I had just had an extremely vivid dream or not.

But then I heard it.

"Whose a beautiful girl?" Sy's voice was soft and warm coming through the baby monitor. My heart relaxed, and I sat up to listen to him talk to his daughter. "We aren't going to wake mama, are we? We'll just sit here until you fall back asleep."

I chuckled, listening to Abbie babble in response. I could picture them together, her curled up on his bare chest, a little fist gripping his chest hair. I heard a soft burp, and realized Sy must have fed her too. Leaning back against the headboard, I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. For the past 10 months, I had been such a light sleeper, waking up at her every noise. Sy had just given me the gift I knew he had been dying to give me the whole time he was gone.

I listened for a few more minutes to Sy talking to his daughter. Mostly nonsense, but some of it broke my heart. He promised to be her protector, and he promised to try to be a great father even when he couldn't be here for her. He voiced his worries to her, probably not realizing that I could hear them too.

I laid back down, burying myself under the covers in an attempt to muffle my sniffling. With the blanket covering my ear, I didn't hear him come back to the room. For a man his size, Sy moved silently when he wanted to.

He also didn't miss much. So when he climbed into bed and wrapped his arms slowly around me, I knew he knew. He pulled me back into his warm body, surrounding me in his delicious scent. His beard tickled me as he pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and waited.

"Are you scared you are going to be a bad dad?" I finally worked up the courage to whisper into the darkness. I felt him shift closer, hugging me a little tighter.

"I worry about my job, and how it affects the two of you. And not being able to be here when she needs me." Sy admitted. I knew it was hard for him to say it out loud, but we had learned through therapy that voicing our worries as best we could helped us understand one another. It definitely helped when he was having a flashback, because he was able to tell me what he was seeing. But now, his worries were closer to the heart. He didn't want let down his country, but he didn't want to disappoint his new family either.

I rolled over so I was facing him, still wrapped up in his embrace. I played with his dog tags, a nervous habit of mine when we were this close. Even after all these years, my husband could still make me blush and get nervous butterflies in my stomach. I didn't know what to say that would help ease his worries. The job he had was important, but it meant he was away a lot. Did it suck? Hell yeah, but I also knew that if I couldn't handle it I wouldn't be laying here. And I certainly wouldn't have let go enough for us have that one crazy night when we both forgot birth control.

So I decided to kiss him instead. Running my fingers from his chest to the back of his neck, I pulled him close, pouring all my love into that kiss. He responded as though he also didn't know what words to say. But that was the way we had always been. Able to say things easier with action than with words. That's why we needed the therapy.

When we pulled apart for air, he rested his forehead on mine, rubbing noses with me. I closed my eyes, enjoying the quiet moment with my husband in the dark of our room. He sighed, tension leaving his body now that we understood each other again. He tucked me closer, resting his chin on top of my head, which was pillowed by his arm. I nuzzled into his chest, his chest hair tickling my nose, and sighed. This was my favourite place to be, in my husband's arms, both of us safe. Our little girl mumbling in her sleep over the monitor was only adding to sense of calm.

[caffeineaddicted-noonie]

Hi ya! Is if okay to ask for a matchup? I saw one of your recents and I honestly really like them! Plus, after scrolling some, it seems we have similar interests so I'll be hanging around for a while. 😄 I hope you're doing well!

I'm a heterosexual female who's an INTP 5w6. If I had to label how I look it'd be "Casual Walmart". Just give me the same clothing in different colors and a pair of shoes. I don't care for looks. Also, the same goes for people too. I care more about a person's character, personality, and their actions towards the people around them. I can't stand people who think they're better than everyone and treat potential friends like tools. Moving on. 😅

To a stranger, I'm either the quiet shy type or the grumpy antisocial introvert. It takes a while for me to become comfortable around people and it takes longer to be friends or in a relationship. So a lot of people don't get to see the real me. I'm actually outgoing when I'm with close friends or relatives. I'm more expressive about my favorite things or when talking to friends. I don't feel uncomfortable asking them questions that are usually "wrong" to ask in general. I will drop everything if it means helping that person, within reason. I'm not afraid to be bluntly honest when it's needed. "Loyal as a dog" until the person proves repeatedly they ain't worth it. I'll just leave or keep a long distance if that's the case. There's much more but that would be a book worth. 😂

I can make some pretty awful dad jokes. I enjoy teasing my friends and younger siblings. (I love being the oldest. 😁) I enjoy photography, writing nonsense after midnight, stargazing on my truck, playing video games, collecting Marvel/DC (anything), and the smell of pine trees after a rainstorm. My main dislikes are cats, anyone that repeatedly hurts my family or friends, messes that can be easily cleaned, and needles.

Eyo @comic-gamer02!!! Thank you for the compliments and I have a feeling we could get along well and fast ^^ I hope you enjoy this <3 🌘🖤life and love~🖤🌒

I MATCH YOU UP WITH

EYELESS JACK 💙

patience invites… log 1 - friends 🌹

+ As we all know, Jack or EJ is an introverted person or being or demon boy. He is also one of the ’doctors’ in the creepypasta household. + However, he is actually an ambivert! I headcanon that for him and no one can make me change it òuó + He looks like an introvert because he’s just lazy to interact with the people around him. + You on the other hand, is quite different from him. He’s lazy to talk, you’re uncomfortable to talk to the ones around you. + So there you were, all alone, on a single couch in the living room. His favourite spot to sit in the whole damn world. + He notices that you sit there a lot and just do…basically nothing. + Besides sitting and staring or playing with whatever you were holding. + He doesn’t mind, he’s just weirded out to why. + You didn’t talk to anyone at all. I mean, everyone was there…including Slenderman. But, you were just…silent. + Until! Jane asked what you wanted to watch. ”Uhm…whatever?” you said with an awkward smile. + Well guess what, there is a movie called ’Whatever’ from the year 1998. + However, you grew familiar with the creeps. As the days go by, you got more comfortable with them and you interected with them more often. + EJ notices. One day, when you were sitting on his favourite seat in the world, he said, ”Hey, that’s actually uh my sofa so…” ”..oh..*you got off and went*” He just watched you go and he sat on his sofa. + HOLY CRAP WERE YOU EMBARASSED. + Why? You sat at his sofa almost everyday without knowing it was his. You babbled abd babbled to Jane about it. ”I SAT ON HIS SOFA. HIS. SOFA.” ”uhuh, and I don’t see the-” “THE PROBLEM. IS THAT I WAS QUIET FOR SUCH A LONG TIME AND JUST WELL, SAT THERE!” ”uhuh..first thing first, calm down,” + so you went up to him and apologised, he had his mask off at that time. ”Oh..it’s nothing..” he said with a small cute smile and pats your head. + OK, ANOTHER EMBARASSMENT BECUASE HE JUST PAT YOUR HEAD SOFTLY RIGHT AFTER HE GAVE YOU A PRECIOUS SMILE + oo crush~ + You babbled again to Jane, and she concludes.. ”You have a crush on him huh?” ”,,ò>ó,, duh” + Lucky you, he wanted to be friends. But he didn’t straight up tell you of course. He just showed you he wanted to, with actions. + He hang out with you often, walking around, having lunch, accompanying you after midnight. + teach him to play video games please. It’s not that he’s never played, he’s just really bad at it. ”What’s the triangle icon for,” ”It’s-“ ”What about the square?” ”That’s for-“ ”Is the circle supposed to be pressed?” ”Let.me.finish.” ”ok” yeah, xbox controllers can be very confucing huh? + He’s soft spoken af. + Your outgoing, helpful, and expressive personality, he’s jealous of it. The good kind of jealous (>u<) He really admires thet about you.

love is in the end log 2 - lovebirds ❤️

+ who confessed first? Kinda, you. + It was excidental. You didn’t mean to tell him that he was adorable. ”Why should I take the rabbit ears off?” ”Just do it!*you attempt to take it from his head*” ”*chuckles and grabs your wrist* Why?” ”BECAUSE YOU LOOK ADORABLE AND MY CHEEKS ARE BURNING” ”o- then why would I?,” ”JACK!” ”pfft-“ + He is a tease! (ahhh) + he may be soft, but he is very very over—protective. He will ’mark’ you, with your consent of course. + He advices you to think before literally dropping everything just to help someone, ”You yourself is way more important,” he’d tell you that. + Your blunt honesty makes you look strong and confident. He loves that about you. + But! That does not mean he will not interfere with your problem. He will stand either behind you or glare at anyone that has a problem with you. + (Why do I feel you are easily flustered? Maybe you are) he literally loves to tease you, probably a 24/7 hobby (ahahah) + he’ll sometimes take pictures of you sleeping and put it on your mirror or show you when you wake up. ”This is one of the cutest photo of you..” ”Really? which one— I AM DROLLING IN MY SLEEP IN THAT ONE!” ”Exactly!” ”JACK!” + When you go stargazing, he’d probably bring a telescope with. He really loves to admire you when you stargaze because when you do, your eyes outshine the night sky itself. You’ll be laying on your back while this man on his side, looking at you. + ”Are you even stargazing?” ”No..” ”Why?” ”Because I’m moongazing…” ”The moon is not out Jack..” ”yeah, but if I were to call it ’stargazing’ it wouldn’t fit the name…” ”Why is that?” ”Because there are a lot of stars and one of you..so,hence..moongazing..” + I see him as a Marvel fan, but, he would also be interested with DC. ”Wait…Batman has 4 Robins?” ”Yeah, wait, no, he has one,” ”Then who’s Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Tim Drake..” ”They WERE his Robins..” “Ohhh..damn..he really loves orphans huh..” ”lmao what” + He doesn’t understand why you dislike cats but he just shrugs it off. Ok, he’s a ’doctor’. Therefore, he keeps needles in a place where only he knows where. + He will love you endlessly. Peppers kisses for fun. Cuddle when bored. You two, very wholsome. AF.

<< here you go! Your cat dynamic!!>>

HIYO! I am so sorry this took so long ^^” Hope you have a great day and Take Care! <3

[cal-kestis]

You Come Around And The Armor Falls | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

(Part II of The Aftermath of Losing Everything)

moodboard/sketch/gifs made by me, please don’t repost :)

Summary: You and Din continue your travels across the galaxy. A trip to Tython reveals your path and a stay in Sorgan breaks down Din's barriers. But red-stained visions will lead you both on a dangerous journey you can only hope to survive. (Set after S2) Rating: M (for reasons that will happen eventually)     Word Count: 7105 Warnings/Tags: Soft!Din, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, no use of ‘Y/N’, cuddles, Din tells you more stories about Grogu and gives you a new nickname A/N: This chapter is very soft :’) 

[PART I] // [Read on AO3] // [Series Masterlist]

v.

Tython is a mountainous terrain, a landscape of rocky slopes and bumpy hillsides. 

From the viewport of the cockpit, you see a small mountain with six protruding pillars arranged in a circle on top. That must be the place. 

The Mandalorian — Din — makes a joke about traveling the last stretch with the windows down as he circles around it, chuckling to himself at some secret memory before landing the ship far from the ancient-looking pillars. 

When you exit the ship, he turns to you with his arms outstretched. And when he tells you to grab on, you back away immediately, finally understanding his joke. 

“We can definitely walk,” you argue, shaking your head and strutting past him.

“That’ll take too long,” he sighs, gently taking hold of your wrist until you stop in your tracks. “It would be dark by the time we got there.”

“I don’t give two bantha ticks. There’s no way in Malachor that I’m letting you dangle me through the air like a kriffing womp rat.”

“You say the strangest things when you’re angry,” Din chuckles.

“Don’t you have another jetpack?” You demand, ignoring his comment.

“Even if I did, you haven’t been trained in the Rising Phoenix.”

“The what?”

“Just hold on,” he mutters and you imagine his eyes rolling, a grin on his lips. He pulls your hands toward him, wrapping them around his neck. One of his arms rests on your lower back and the other scoops you up behind your knees, cradling you against his chest. Flames burst from his jetpack, launching the pair of you off the ground ungracefully as he adjusts to carrying another person. Your grip tightens around him for dear life and he can’t fight the smile on his lips when he feels you bury your face into his neck as he flies high above the mountains toward the pillars.

“We are never doing that again,” you say once your feet finally touch the ground.

“Come on. It’s not that bad,” he says, holding your shoulders as you regain your balance. “The kid loved it.”

You scoff, taking in the scene around you. The pillars look much taller up close, towering above you from all sides and pointing to the middle of the round platform where a smooth mound lies dead center. It’s covered in dirt save for the few shrubs that managed to blossom from the dry ground.

“It’s a rock,” you say, unimpressed as you circle the half sphere.

“Seeing Stone,” he corrects.

“Fine. It’s a stone and I’m seeing it,” you say, turning your gaze on him with your hands on your hips.

It's strangely fitting to look at him and see yourself reflected in the beskar, warped and wavy from the curves of his armor. His hands fall to his hips, mirroring your posture.

“So, what happens next?”

“I don’t know… exactly,” he admits with a long sigh. “There aren’t any controls. I just sat Grogu on the stone and something… happened. Ahsoka said if he reached out through the Force, someone might hear him. So, sit and reach,” he commands, gently nudging you toward the stone.

“Nonsense Jedi bantha crap,” you grumble under your breath, ripping another short chuckle from his chest. You smile, sitting cross-legged on the stone.

“Focus,” he says, hands on either of your shoulders before he backs away, remembering how last time, the energy field had knocked him back more times than he’d care to admit.

You close your eyes, concentrating on something you don’t quite understand. Your eyes screw shut tightly, wrinkling the skin between your brows, and you frown.

“Nothing happened.”

A leather-clad thumb trails a gentle line down the furrow between your brows, smoothing the wrinkles by your eyes with a gentleness that tugs your heart so fiercely, you almost fall off the stone.

“It will,” he says softly — confidently.

You open one eye to peek at him, watching as he steps away again and nods, fingers itching to pull his hands back to your face. A blue butterfly appears in front of your nose out of nowhere, another landing on your knee. You watch as they flutter around you in silent encouragement, take a deep breath, and softly close your eyes once more. One clammy palm presses into the stone beneath and you refocus your thoughts, reaching out for one thing: Din.

Din Djarin, a kind, gracious man hidden beneath impenetrable armor. How can someone who never shows his face be the most beautiful person you’ve ever known? You’ve never seen his smile, but you hear it in the baritone of his laughter and teasing. You’ve never seen his eyes but can feel them — concerned, curious, observant, warm — underneath a tinted visor. He gives you pieces of himself in ways that can’t be seen, but in moments that spread heat to your cheeks and flutters to your belly. And he takes little pieces of your heart in exchange. After years of surviving on your own, you never imagined you could care so deeply for another person.

Suddenly, a beam of energy encircles you in blue transparent waves and Din takes a few extra steps back just in case, a triumphant smile on his face as he whispers under his breath, “Good girl.”

He paces back and forth as you sit atop the Seeing Stone for nearly an hour, your eyes gently twitching, fingers brushing together, locked in a deep trance.

“Then, Grogu may choose his path.” Ahsoka’s words echo in his memory.

He wonders what your path is, if it will continue to weave with his or if it leads you far away. He doesn’t let himself hope, doesn’t let himself imagine — knowing full well how it broke his heart the last time.

Finally, he feels the powerful energy wane, your body collapsing over the stone, and he bolts to your side.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a hand on the side of his helmet. “Just took a lot out of me.”

He nods, keeping silent despite his eagerness to hear what you found.

“Din,” you whisper, his name sounding like the lullabies of his childhood on your smiling lips. “I heard him.”

Din imagines a hooded figure leading you by your hand, leaving him behind.

“I heard Grogu,” you clarify and Din’s helmet whips toward you so violently, the way it slices through the wind is practically audible.

“You heard… Grogu?” He stutters quietly.

“Yes!” You squeak excitedly, standing on your feet, your hands holding tight onto his arms for balance. “He had quite a lot to say,” you laugh, and Din lets out a half-sob, half-chuckle, remembering the time his boy babbled nonsense the entire way from Nevarro to Corvus.

“How is he?” Din whispers so quietly he’s not sure if he spoke at all.

“His master says he’s getting stronger each day.” You wish you could see the pride in Din’s eyes. You know it’s there. “And he misses you, a lot.”

Din holds his breath, visibly fighting back tears.

“But he said he’ll see you again soon, just like you promised.”

You leave out the answer you gave to an invitation to join his master. And you leave out Grogu’s parting request: “Please take care of my father. He shouldn’t be alone.” But you tell Din everything else.

Tears drip down his cheeks and you see the wet drops slip out of his helmet and land on his cowl.

“Did you tell him that I—”

“Yes,” you say, a hand on the side of his helmet. “I told him.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his rapidly beating chest — similar to the way you’d done when he'd allowed you onto his ship.

“Thank you,” he says, helmet pressing against the top of your head, his gratitude rumbling through beskar into your skin.

—

vi.

He doesn’t ask you when you plan to leave him.

You don't give any inclination that you plan to stop traveling the galaxy at his side.

So, you find yourselves together on Sorgan, deciding to lay low for a while.

Sorgan is a swampy, humble planet. Nothing like Tatooine. To you, that makes it all the more beautiful.

Din brings you to a small krill farming village, which only adds to the planet’s enchanting charm. Children run through the fields as their laughter wafts in the air, enveloping you in a soothing balm. Men and women kneel over rivers with woven baskets full of the bouncing blue krill, soft smiles etched into their faces as they work.

When the Mandalorian saunters through the village, the children come bounding up to him in hoards, eager grins and grabby fingers boxing him in until he can’t walk any further. You can’t help but laugh as he visibly sighs before kneeling to greet them, accepting a small pink flower from one of the little girls.

Before you had landed, he’d mentioned visiting this village once or twice before. But it’s clear that he hadn’t just passed through. He’d made an impression. You half expect to find a statue of him in the center of the village after seeing the way the children looked up at him with stars in their eyes.

When the children finally leave to play, you follow several steps behind Din, watching his interactions with curious eyes. A beautiful woman with long, raven hair stops him with a gentle smile, her eyes softening with vast yet familiar constellations reflecting in her irises. It seems like there’s a history between Din and the raven-haired woman — something he’d failed to mention, but you try not to dwell on the uncomfortable way the idea squeezes at your heart.

Whatever Din says to the woman is too quiet to hear from this distance, so you settle for reading his body language. Although he speaks to you far more often now, you find you can understand him even without words.

The woman tilts her chin, a soft smile unwavering on her lips until Din shakes his head, the setting sun reflecting off his helmet as it moves right and left. His shoulders slump and the woman’s smile slips off her face as she reaches a sun-kissed hand toward his elbow and squeezes gently. The woman says something, confidence in her eyes, and Din nods.

Finally, Din glances in your direction and you gravitate toward him without instruction.

“This is Omera,” Din tells you.

The woman — Omera — smiles once again. “Hello. We’re happy to have you both as our guests. I’ll prepare your lodging,” she says, turning on her heel to leave the two of you alone.

“Thank you,” Din says. 

When Omera is out of earshot, you can’t keep the tinge of jealousy out of your voice when you say, “She seems nice.”

“She and this village were very kind to us when Grogu and I came here before. We can trust her.”

You nod, more curious to know what he’d just said to the woman.

“Did you tell her about Grogu?” You ask, wondering if you made accurate observations.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

You see his shoulders slump again. Reliving the goodbye is never easy for him.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he says, changing the subject and wordlessly handing you the pink flower one of the children had given him earlier. When you don't take it immediately, he decides to tuck it behind your ear as you do with your pencil, sending a wave of heat down your neck. (Later, when you’re alone, you press the flower between the pages of your drawing pad for safekeeping.) 

“Looks like they’re pitching a fire. Hope you like krill.”

Dinner moves at a slow, peaceful pace, accompanied by friendly voices of storytelling strangers. They regale you with the fantastical tale of the legendary Mandalorian and the fearless former Rebel shock trooper who saved them from a band of pirates and a destructive Walker that stood tall above the trees — the two heroes who not only restored harmony but showed this village how to be brave and how to fight for themselves. You feel at ease sipping on spotchka, listening to stories honoring your friends.

But as the thought passes through your mind, ‘friend’ suddenly becomes the strangest word. It fits Cara Dune, the courageous marshal who you’d met several times on Nevarro, the woman you’d shared drinks and laughs with at cantinas, the warrior you’d trust with your life and Din’s life. But Din, your ‘friend’? The word seems to fall short.

After dinner, the villagers retire to their beds one after the other — leaving you and Din at the fire.

Din looks around at all the families, watching as one father carries his son on his back and a mother cradles a swaddled infant in her arms. He sees Omera and her daughter, Winta, in the distance — their hands joined and swinging between them as the little girl skips toward their humble home.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, the leather gloves silently screeching as the material sticks and peels away from itself again and again. His brows pinch together as he stares down at empty hands — empty hands that had foolishly allowed themselves to get used to holding someone else.

An image pierces his memory: three tiny green claws wrapped around his yellow-tipped thumb.

He blinks, blurry vision refocusing on his hands. Empty. 

You watch him intently, feeling sadness roll off of him in waves, drawing you in until you’re submerged just as deep, crestfallen on his ocean floor.

When the heart breaks, no amount of bacta can heal it. You can’t cauterize the lacerations carved inside of him or stitch the pieces together. But you can let your scarred heart bleed and beat next to his, until the heavy thud, thud, thud, thud evolves into the resilient rhythm of a somber symphony only the two of you know.

He exhales. It’s a weary, crackling sound behind his helmet.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” he admits quietly like he’s ashamed.

“For him? For Grogu?” You ask.

He nods, the motion almost imperceptible if not for the glint of firelight that flashes off beskar.

“I know you did. Grogu is doing well. He told me himself,” you whisper, opening his clenched fist and molding your fingers between his. “You’re a good man.”

For a moment, the moons and stars disappear at the same time, enveloping you both in inky darkness save for the angry red flames that reflect against his armor. He decides not to speak, not right away, allowing a shivering silence to shroud him as he weighs his next words. The late evening decrescendos into a soft lull of the crackling fire, wind-bristled branches, and a familiar thud, thud, thud, thud.

“Sometimes,” his modulated voice finally rumbles. The dark window of his visor anchors itself on the way your hand completely fills one of his. Then he looks away, beyond the trees, beyond you. “I wonder if that’s true.”

You try to piece the words together yourself, try to make sense of him — how he can’t see what you can see as clearly as the roaring fire.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “I was scared to take you to Tython,” he admits.

“Because of what happened with Grogu the last time? You defeated Gideon. The Dark Troopers are gone, nothing was going to happen—”

“Not because of that,” he interrupts, taking a breath. “Because I… don’t want you to leave. And I feel selfish because you should be able to go — to train.”

Your heart beats faster at his admission, your mind mulling over his words to make sure you heard them right. A shaking hand reaches for his helmet, pulling his visor to face you.

“Di— Mando,” you whisper, taking a quick glance at the empty village. “I already chose my path at the Seeing Stone. I’m not leaving,” you reveal to him for the first time. You do everything you can to make him believe your words, squeezing his hand tighter, attempting to send your feelings through your skin into him.

“It isn’t right. You should train. You’re so powerful,” he says, almost to himself.

“No, I’m staying with you. And I know it’s right,” you declare, staring into the T-shaped visor where his eyes are. “You said Grogu knew where he was meant to be when he was young. He trained even before he met you. Letting him continue was the right thing to do for him. You did the right thing,” you argue. “But I didn’t go to some fancy Jedi temple. When I was a kid, all I wanted was... to not be alone anymore. And now, I’m not. This is where I’m meant to be.”

You watch as flames dance across his helmet, his body still as he stays silent. Then, suddenly, your body feels warmer than the crackling fire, encircled in his tight embrace. You stay wrapped together like that for several minutes, limbs wound around each other like vines. You almost fall asleep on his shoulder from the peaceful sound of his breath so close to your ear.

“Come on,” he says, the crown of his helmet now resting against your forehead. He gently detaches you from his body as he stands, extending his hand for you to take once again. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

With your hands joined, gently swinging between your bodies, the two of you walk side by side to your shared lodging.

The hut is small and quaint, sparse in decoration but plentiful in necessity. A bed for two sits nestled in the corner of the single room, the soft orange glow of a lamplight casting hazy, billowing shadows against the wall. Din stands on the threshold, shifting his weight between his feet as you explore the room, your fingers gliding across the soft fabric on the bed.

“All clear, Mando. The bed doesn’t bite,” you tease him, his head shaking — probably rolling his eyes — as he closes the door behind him.

“I’ll take the floor,” he says, removing his cape and laying it on the ground.

“That’s ridiculous,” you argue, rolling your eyes this time. “We came to Sorgan to relax. You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“I’ve done worse,” he shrugs. You don’t doubt it.

“I don’t care. There’s plenty of space for both of us. If you don’t sleep on the bed, neither will I,” you resolve, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Who’s being ridiculous now?” He says, a hand on his hip as he stares you down. When you don’t relent, he sighs. “Fine.”

You practically bounce with delight, removing your socks and dusting off your clothes before diving under the plush covers. A breathy moan escapes your lips as your body sinks into the mattress and it freezes him in place on the other side of the room.

“Oh, stars. This is heaven,” you hum.

Din approaches the bed like it’s a rancor crouching in wait to devour him whole. His knee hardly touches the top of the mattress before you’re sitting up with another accusatory glare.

“You’re going to sleep in your armor?” You question incredulously.

He doesn’t want to argue in circles with you again, worried the other villagers may be able to hear, so he sits on the edge of the bed and removes each plate of beskar one by one, save for his helmet. He’s left in a long-sleeved top, dark pants, and woolen socks — his hands the only skin on display after removing his gloves.

He turns on the mattress, his feet resting beside yours as he lays his helmet down on a squishy pillow, facing your curious gaze once more.

“When was the last time someone saw your face?” You whisper.

“Not long ago,” he answers truthfully. “The child.”

“And your Creed?”

“He meant more.”

You nod, understanding full well that the love for another being can easily outweigh any rule or law or virtue or doctrine or belief or obligation.

You tuck your hand beneath your pillow, squinting your eyes as if trying to see through the panes of his helmet. You wonder, not for the first time, what he looks like when he rolls his eyes or laughs or smirks. You wonder if his eyes soften when he looks at you the way you know your eyes do whenever he’s near... if a dimple appears in his cheek just for you. Your knees bend slightly, touching his legs. 

“What happens if you take off your helmet?”

He doesn’t respond right away, as if looking for the correct answer.

“I used to think I could never put it back on,” he says, pain in his voice as the word ‘traitor’ echoes in his mind. “But now, I’m not so sure.”

You hum in acknowledgment, submerging the room into a long gap of silence, your eyes flitting across his covered face, your own features reflected in the silver steel. He watches as you close your eyes and wonders for a moment if you’ve decided to finally sleep. But then, your hand reaches in the direction of the open flame across the room, and with a flick of your wrist, the lamplight extinguishes, enveloping the room in complete darkness.

“You’re good at that,” he comments, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“It comes in handy,” you say, the fabric beneath your shoulder rustling as you shrug.

The room is quiet again, the steady sound of soft breathing filling the small space between your bodies.

“Din?” You whisper.

His eyes close at the sound of his name spoken so delicately by your lips. “Hmm.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he answers, not missing a beat.

“I won’t look, I promise. I can’t even see. I just,” you pant as if speaking alone has made you breathless. “I can’t imagine sleeping with a helmet on is all that comfortable. You can take it off. You can trust me.”

Your hand trembles as it blindly reaches for the side of his helmet but his hand immediately traps you there against the beskar. You fear you’ve taken it too far when he pushes your hand back toward your side of the bed.

But then you hear it, the sound of air releasing, a puff of unrestrained breath, metal gently hitting the floor. And then his hand is holding yours again and placing it on his cheek, touching his skin for the first time. His eyelashes flutter against the side of your fingers, closing shut as your other hand tentatively explores the rest of his face.

He’s warm. Soft and rough at the same time. His entire weight leans into your palm and you think, this must be what it feels like to hold the entire universe.

“I never thought—” he suddenly whispers, a jagged inhale, a shaky exhale, his breath touching your lips. “After I lost the kid,” he continues, his thumb caressing your hand on his cheek. “I never thought I’d feel this again.”

You wonder what he means by ‘this.’ Touch? Tenderness? Warmth? Care? Or something much, much deeper?

You desperately wish you could see how he looks in this moment, feeling another person’s skin against his own after depriving himself for so long. Your fingers run across wrinkles and scars and you wonder, not for the first time, how long he’s had to carry these marks and stories all on his own. Your thumb finds the bridge of his nose, trailing down the strong curve until below it, a dense smattering of hair scratches at your skin.

“A mustache?” You ask, amused.

You hear his smile widen when he chuckles. “My father had one.”

It makes your heart ache, remembering the story he told you about his home planet, how his parents had sacrificed their lives to keep him safe. How the siege built his distrust of droids and redirected his faith to the Mandalorians who lifted him out of devastating danger. As you trace his mustache with reverence, you wonder what parts of his mother he wears like armor.

Below that, your thumb drags along the plush outline of his lower lip, from one corner to the other. You swear they’re lifted — at least just slightly. As you move your fingers across his cheeks, you find the shallow dip of a dimple and you smile so big he must be able to see it. His jaw is sharp and prickly, freshly shaved probably the day before. 

As he leans heavily into your hand, you think to yourself how much you want to help carry this weight for him.

“Can you say something?” You ask quietly, your hands still touching his skin, careful not to disturb the bubble you’re in.

“What do you want me to say?” He whispers.

“Hmm,” you respond, enjoying the feeling of his voice rumbling through your hand. “Anything. I just like the way you sound.”

For a second, you think you feel his lips press against your palm.

“Cuyan,” he says, the foreign word tickling your skin.

“What language is that?”

“It’s the tongue of my people: Mando’a,” he explains, his cheek stretching upward under your hand. “It’s not spoken much anymore.”

“It sounds beautiful. What does ‘cuyan’ mean?”

His hand falls into your hair, brushing the strands with his fingers. “It means survivor.”

“Like you,” you smile.

“And you.” 

You smile wider.

“Stars, please keep talking,” you plead, despite the peaceful yawn slipping from your lips. Your hand on his face wraps around his back instead, holding him like a pillow. Nestling your head over his heart, you feel the strong thud, thud, thud, thud against your ear — your own heartbeat starting to synchronize with his. His hand continues combing through your hair, his chest rumbling with a gentle chuckle.

“Kotep means brave,” he whispers, his voice weaving through the hairs at the crown of your head. “I remember the time I introduced you to Cara Dune. We were in a rush but she was taking her time pummeling someone into the dirt. And you rolled your eyes, took the blaster from her belt, set it to stun, and shot him. Then, you smiled, shook Cara’s hand, and said ‘Nice to meet you.’”

“Kotep,” you mumble, half-awake. “Maybe more stupid than kotep.”

“Sometimes, they’re one and the same,” he chuckles, making your entangled bodies shake. “Mirdala means clever. Like when you snuck onto my ship and convinced me to let you join my crew even though I wasn't looking for one. Or when you rewired the jammers so that our ship could scramble Imperial and New Republic codes.”

“Kotyc means strong. When you saved me from that rancor, I was terrified,” he whispers. He tilts his head down, his lips pressing against your hair as he listens to your slow breathing. You’re fast asleep, arms still wound loosely around him, cheek pressed against his chest. But he keeps talking. “Not of the rancor or even of you. You’re so strong, so powerful, just like the kid. I was terrified I’d have to let you go too. Then, you said you want to stay. And I felt so guilty because I was so relieved. But I want you to stay too, truly, for as long as you want, ner kar’ta. Ner kar’ta means my heart.”

He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Before I met the kid... before I met you, ner kar’ta… I never thought I’d get to have this, whatever this is,” he whispers into your skin. “That was a past life. This is heaven.”

—

vii.

The few nights you stay in Sorgan give you ample time to study his features in the dark, etching them into your mind the way you would on paper.

Every night after the first, he whispers words like cuyan, kotep, mirdala, and kotyc as you fall asleep — some you remember and some you don’t.

When you leave Sorgan, you notice he wears his helmet less. Not outside of the safety of darkness and certainly not outside of the ship. But in quiet, shadowy moments and dim corners of your metal home — he feels comfortable enough to be without it.

He’s giving you a portion of what he knows he can’t fully give to you... not yet. But it’s like he’s inviting you, waiting for your hand to find its place on his cheek once again.

When you retire to your quarters each night, he powers off the lights and whispers, “Good night, ner kar’ta,” faint enough to make you wonder if he means for you to hear it. Ner kar’ta. It’s a beautiful phrase, one from his people’s language. He’d shared it with you that first night he let you know him, feel his skin with its scars and soft expanses. But for the life of you, you can’t remember if he taught you what ner kar’ta means. (You curse that comfortable bed and his warm arms for tempting you to sleep so easily.) The way he says ner kar’ta each time is like a sanctified prayer and you desperately want to know what Divinity has that he wants. 

Sleep had never come easy to you before. Not in your years of lonely nights surrounded by danger on Tatooine. Before you met Din, nightmares had been enemies you kept close like friends. Not by your own will, of course.

But nightmares quickly became scarce foes. Living with Din made you feel safe. He’s a protector, but more than that — he shows you the strength you have inside you like a mirror, his bravery reflected in your eyes. Kotep means brave. You remember that.

But as you feel yourself growing more connected to your powers, the Force, your dreams seem more vivid, more rooted in reality, peculiar prophecies. And nightmares feel like omens.

You have a recurring horror story that plays in your mind in fragmented flashes, pieces you’re too scared to dwell on in the clear light of day for fear they may form a mosaic of your own image, cast away in the vast expanse of space. Alone. Again. 

Tonight, the nightmare visits you and bathes your thoughts in red. You don't recognize the dreamscape from your travels with your Mandalorian, you only see the way it paints everything in a bloody tint and sets your skin on fire. Then, you see Din — hear him yell in agony under the attack of an invisible enemy. But you’re rooted to the ground, your limbs morphing into distorted vines and branches, dry screams ripping through your throat until you can’t make a sound.

“Din!” You gasp, waking up in a cold sweat in your darkened quarters, the desperate sound of your voice echoing through the ship.

“What’s wrong?” Din sprints in, panting as he skids to a stop. He turns on the lights to reveal himself in only his underclothes and helmet, head snapping back and forth as he examines the scene. When nothing seems out of place, his shoulders relax. “Are you okay?”

Your chest heaves as you attempt to steady your breath, not realizing tears are rolling down your face until he comes forward to wipe one from your cheek.

“It was just a dream,” you say, not fully believing your words. “But it felt so real.”

The edge of your thin mattress sinks at the same time you feel his bare hand brush a sweat-slicked strand of hair out of your face. His fingers comb through your hair and settle at the base of your head before he pulls your face into his soft chest. The steady beating of his heart under your cheek immediately helps yours slow down.

“I’m here. You’re safe,” he says, and all you can do is fist your hand in his shirt and hold onto him, anchor yourself in his solid body because it’s not you that you worry about. Not this time. But you don't tell him about the nightmare or the fragments that have been haunting you the past few days. You just listen to the way he breathes in through his nose and sighs through his lips.

“Scoot over,” he whispers, untangling himself from your arms. You sniffle and do as he asks, giving him room to settle under your covers and wrap his arm around your back so you can use his chest as a pillow. “Do you mind getting the lights?”

You chuckle, closing your eyes and levitating the pencil on your drawing pad until it hits the controls for the lights and blankets the room in darkness. Almost immediately, you hear the hiss of Din’s helmet and the light thud of it hitting the floor before you feel his soft hair touching the top of your head.

He holds you, his thumb stroking the skin on your arm, his breaths coming out as warm puffs against your hair. And like those nights in Sorgan, you let your fingers draw smooth shapes into his skin and rest over his heart.

“Do you want to hear about the time I took Grogu to school?” He asks quietly, indulging you with the deep rumble of his rich voice.

You tilt your face upward and try to see his smile in the pitch black, nodding your head so his shirt beneath your cheek rubs against his chest. You want to hear every story about his past as long as he says it with his voice and his hands on your skin.

“I was on Nevarro, just passing through for repairs. And of course, I ended up on a mission at an Imperial base,” he chuckles, sending vibrations through you.

“Of course,” you laugh with him.

“I couldn’t take the kid with me. Karga and Dune brought me to a school, so I left him there for a while.” Your hand raises to his cheek so you can feel that pull of his smile under your fingers. “Mid-mission, I have to bolt from the base, grab my ship, and pick up the kid on the way. I’m in a rush and the educator droid tries to keep me, saying my son stole some poor boy’s snacks. I don’t have any time for the droid to explain more and just mumble sorry and grab the kid. He’s got little blue crumbs all over his cloak and a silver packet of cookies. He ate so much he got sick on the ship when I flew back to help the others near the base.”

You feel Din shake his head, laughing at the memory.

“I had to let him wear one of my tunics while I washed up his clothes. I even tried sewing up the bottom so it would protect his feet better,” he snickers. “Not the best stitching job I’ve done.”

You don't think your heart has ever felt so full and large and ready to burst. You love listening to him talk about Grogu, the fondness in his voice tugging you impossibly closer to him until the two of you blend into one.

“He whined for hours when he finished those cookies.” He muses, lifting one of your hands and drawing lines on your palm with the tip of his finger. “Such a little womp rat.”

“Wonder where he got it from,” you tease, your voice still scratchy from tears but laughing in genuine amusement.

He scoffs, the mirth never leaving his honeyed voice. “I only ever taught him strength, honor, and loyalty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. This is the Way,” you say, attempting to imitate his deep baritone.

“You really like to give me a hard time, don’t you?” He teases.

“Ah,” you grin. “The Jawa calls the Ewok short.”

He stills before bursting into a full-bodied laugh. “I’ve never heard that one before,” he gasps between wheezes.

You laugh with him, your shaking bodies gradually calming into a slow vibration of charged energy. You can’t see it but you feel his eyes looking into yours when his breaths settle down, his thumb now tracing over the slope of your lip.

“Sleep, ner kar’ta,” he says, stroking his fingers over your hair once more. And you desperately want to ask what it means, why he calls you this beautiful phrase. But soon enough, your eyes are closed and he kisses your head before letting sleep take him as well.

When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, your quarters still mostly covered in the ship’s shadows, he gently slides himself out of your hold and tucks you deeper under the covers, before putting his helmet back on and walking to the fresher.

On his way out of your room, he notices a sliver of light peeking through the doorway and a splash of pink catches his eyes. He looks down to find your open drawing pad sitting on your dresser, the pink flower he gave you on Sorgan pressed and dried onto one page.

And on the page beside it is a rough charcoal portrait of a man that looks vaguely like him. The sketched face shares the hooked curve of his nose, a mustache below it covering his lips, and wavy locks atop his head. But the other features are empty, blanks waiting patiently to be filled in once you fully grasp the picture.

Beside the off-white space where his eyes should be, he sees a note in your scribbled handwriting that reads: 

Eye color?

He takes the pencil lying between the stitched binding of the booklet and gives you another piece of himself, writing below your question:

Brown.

— 

viii.

When you wake, you half expect to find your cheek still pressed to a warm, beating chest, strong arms wrapped around your body, perhaps even a charming snore blowing the hair at the top of your head. Instead, when you open your eyes, the space beside you is cold and empty, and you wonder if it had all been a fantasy you’d conjured to erase the nightmare that had plagued you moments before.

But when you slip out of bed and pad over to your door, you spot your drawing pad which you’d left open. And below the question you’d scrawled across the page, you find his answer and can finally put a color to his eyes — a rich, warm, melting hue that fits his gaze so perfectly you think there must be a Maker putting these pieces into motion.

You grab the pencil from the booklet, place it behind your ear, and go to find him.

Leaving your quarters, the ship feels unusually frigid and you hold your arms tightly to retain the residual warmth from the bed covers.

When you walk into the cockpit, you half expect to find Din in his plainclothes again, giving you a chance to wrap your arms around his waist and whisper “good morning” into the soft planes of his chest without his beskar blocking the way. Instead, you find him fully-armored, crouched over with his elbows on his knees, helmet hung low and held between gloved hands. In front of him, a holoprojector loops a message from a pale, uniformed woman.

“Din Djarin,” the grave voice addresses him by his full name, sending shivers down your spine. “Yes, I know exactly who you are. If you don’t want the entire galaxy to put a name to your face, you will help me devise a plan to release Moff Gideon from the New Republic detainment facility. We will send you coordinates to an Imperial base shortly.”

The blue projection vanishes briefly before starting again in a haunting cycle.

“Din,” you whisper, startling him out of his stupor, his helmet whipping around as if ready to take aim and fire. You walk toward him slowly, kneel in front of him with a gentle hand on his knee, and face the holoprojector. “Who is that? How do they know your name?”

He sighs, his helmet falling into his hands once more.

“When Gideon took the kid, I had to make a choice,” he says, voice rough and ragged despite the hours of restful sleep he got the night before. “I snuck into an Imperial rhydonium refinery on Morak to get Gideon’s coordinates from a data terminal. But the terminal required a facial scan.”

“They have your face in Imperial data archives,” you gasp, the understanding poisoning your veins and causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

“They have everything in the archives,” he corrects, his modulated voice distant and detached. “And they’re about to take it all away.”

“No,” you whisper. Standing up suddenly, anger washes over you at his quick defeat. “No! I won’t let them. There must be something we can do.”

“I won’t free Gideon,” Din says, stern and almost frightening in his resolve.

“I’m not saying we break him out,” you respond, hands up in defense. “But there’s always more than one way to skin a womp rat.”

Your heavy footsteps echo in the small space of the cockpit as you pace back and forth. Din’s helmet follows you slowly as you walk in circles and he sees the gears turning in your mind. You pull the pencil behind your ear towards your lips and gnaw at it with your teeth, an action he quickly learned meant not to talk to you lest your brewing idea slips from your skull. The holoprojector repeats its threat over and over, the voice grating against the metal walls until it begins to sound like an endless shriek. And with a roar of frustration, your clenched fist comes flying down onto the holoprojector until the image fizzles away.

“I’ve got it.”

The plan goes as follows: Send the Mandalorian to the Imperial base under the guise of full cooperation and stall the holoprojector Imp for as long as possible. This will give you enough time to sneak in through an air vent (“Or… something.” “Or something?” “Yes, Mando. Whatever’s convenient at that moment!”), find a terminal, and hack the system, wiping every Imperial archive of Din Djarin.

“That’s a horrible plan,” he says.

“It’s not ‘horrible,’” you argue.

“It’s dangerous.”

“You got something better?” You challenge.

His long sigh is enough of an answer.

“So, we’re doing it then,” you say, suddenly a million times more nervous than when you’d laid out your blueprint for him. “Punch in those coordinates. Let’s go pay a visit to some Imps.” [READ PART III]

End Notes: Please support this story with a reblog or comment in the replies! I’d love to know what you think of it so far. :) (Also, I know the Seeing Stone is more of a beacon but let's just say you can talk to other force-sensitives if you meditate deep enough.) Btw, zoom into the moodboard to see the sketch of Din. Should I upload the full size? Mando’a Glossary: Cuyan = survivor [koo-YAHN] Kotep = brave [KOH-tehp] Mirdala = clever [MEER-dah-lah] Kotyc = strong [koh-TEESH] Ner kar’ta = My heart (kar’ta = heart [kah-ROH-ta]; ner = my [nair]) Star Wars slang: The Jawa calls the Ewok short = When somebody comments on or accuses someone else of a fault which the accuser shares.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

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Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

[imaginesforallkindoflove]

A lil piece of writing for me and Felix :3 hope you guys will enjoy it!

Warning: mention of torture

"Let me go you rat!" I yelled with my french accent as the infamous Captain Hook put me over his shoulders. "Unhand me now connard!"

I continued to punch his back, but the black haired man didn't let go of me for a good five minutes. I tried to bite him, kicking him in his private parts but nothing seemed to hurt him enough. 

I gasped as he threw on the dirty ground of the Dark Jungle, in front of a blond haired woman with a sword, a man, a woman with short hair who looked at me almost in pity, and another woman with black hair who seemed very angry at me. I growled and tried to stand up but the angry woman forced me down with the help of magic, earning a "Regina!" from the other black haired woman.

"Who the fuck are you?" I growled. "What do you want? Hook, what is the meaning of this? Again you kidnapped me? Haven't you learn your lesson by now?" 

"Come on, girlie, it's not for that I am here. You see, the boy who allows you to live here, Pan-"

"He took my son Henry and the captain guyliner told us you might have an idea where his camp is at." Regina cut him as she glared at me.

"I won't tell you anything." I said, knowing damn well the location of the camp. 

The adults didn't seem surprised by my animosity toward them. They turned and started whispering among themselves, leaving me alone with the pirate again. It would be easy. 

I suddenly stood up and turned to leave. I really wanted to escape them, who knows what they will do to me? Hook knows that I know where the lost boys are at, and I know that he will torture me to get answers. He was a pirate after all. 

Unfortunately, my breathing stopped and I felt choked. Regina appeared next to me, her hand raised as she was choking me. The short black haired woman ran toward her.

"Regina let her go!" 

"She tried to escape." 

"Listen, violence won't solve anything! There must be a reason why she is on this island, and she must be afraid of Pan. Maybe if we treat her nicely she won't try to run away from us and she could help us!" The woman pleaded.

"Snow, it's not like that things seems to work around here." 

"So what do we do now?" The man said as he approached us and tied my hands behind my back. 

"Let's bring her to our camp. Maybe she will talk when she will be hungry." Regina suggested.

A lot of hours passed and I couldn't find any sleep. I was in a very uncomfortable situation, and those adults… why do they care. I don't have a lot of memories from my past lives because here, happy memories fade away quickly. I always shared the disdain for adults with the lost ones. 

I thought of Felix then. What will he do if he finds my cottage empty? Will he search for me? He told me once that if anyone would dare to take me away from him, he will wage a war against the person, with the lost boys. I smiled thinking of him.

"Why are you smiling?" A voice asked.

I turned my head to see Emma Swan, the pretentious saviour. She was very annoying, always babbling about her past, always saying things that didn't make sense. 

"It's none of your business." I snapped. 

"I know why she is: thinking of her lover." Hook smirked as he approached me.

I stopped breathing and turned my head at him, with wide eyes. How could he know? Our relationship was secret… No, he must be bluffing.

"What are you talking about? I have no lover, it's forbidden when you live on Neverland. Stop with your  nonsense old man." 

"If you think Felix will come running to save you, it's not the case, sweetheart." The pirate announced mockingly as Emma watched him carefully.

"Felix?" She asked.

"The boy I was fighting when Pan disguised himself as Henry. The two have a very very close friendship then. I never seen a lost boy running so fast when I was holding that poor dear little healer over the sea, as sharks circled the ship. I know her fears Miss Swan, we could use them at our advantage." 

I was breathing heavily at the mention of sea and sharks. Sharks in Neverland were born bigger and they were true monsters, attacking anything that came too close to them. The sea terrified me too. Emma Swan showed a more sympathetic face toward me when Hook mentioned my fears.

"You know nothing about me pirate." I growled.

"Hook, leave her alone." Snow White said, she must have heard us. "I will talk with her." 

I rolled my eyes. What does she want with me? Why is everyone asking me questions? Why don't they skip directly to the torture session? Snow White knelt besides me, with a kind smile. 

"So is Hook saying the truth?" 

I knew what she was speaking about so I nodded my head a little, my hair falling over my face. It was humiliating. 

"Listen, we don't want to hurt you. We just want my son, Henry." Emma voices quietly. "Do you know where he is?" 

Oh god I hated them. I closed my eyes. I couldn't tell them. It would mean betraying Felix, betraying my friends that I have in the lost boys. Even if I hated Pan with every fiber of my being I couldn't tell them.

"I can't tell you." I whispered, tears forming in my eyes.

Why was I crying? Why? 

"Are you afraid of Pan? We can protect you." Snow said worriedly.

"No… I am not scared of him. I don't… I will not tell you." I firmly told them. 

Felix will come save me. He always comes for me. Right? 

"It is leading us no where, Snow." The man, David, exclaimed as he walked toward me with Regina at his side. "I hate to say this but maybe… we could… forcefully take information from her?" 

"Touch her and I cut your hand." A monotonous and a little creepy voice said. 

We all turned our heads to see a small group of lost boys, led by Felix. I tried not to smile or to sound too relieved, no one didn't need to know. They stopped in front of the adults, the Evil Queen using her magic already.

"Give her back our healer. Now." Felix ordered.

"Why should we do that?" Emma asked.

Felix smirked. It was one of his smiles, when he knows something that no one does, the one which say "I won loser". I stared at him.

"We love games. Pan wants you to play a second one." He had a paper in his hands. "With this you will find the location of our camp. But, you will have it once she will be free." He finished darkly.

The adults looked at each other, weighing their options. Couldn't they decide quicker? 

"Fine." Emma breathed out as the captain cut my bonds. "You're free to go." She announced. 

I rose up to my feet and jogged over the side of the lost boys. Felix looked at me relieved, but his stare turned emotionless and cold once again as he handed the map to Emma. 

We turned to disappear in the jungle. I hoped they didn't follow us, would be a shame really. They would die faster in that way. We inhabitants of Neverland know all the way around here. The lost boys all went back to the camp but as Felix went to walk me up to my cottage. When we arrive there and as he turned to leave, I grabbed him by his cloak. He bent over by surprise and I kissed him. I could feel him smile against my lips and his hands traveled to my hair and head, bringing me closer.

"What was that for?" He asked quietly.

"For saving me." I smiled. "My hero~." I purred as I hugged him.

"I have to go." He kissed my nose. "I love you." And then my lips. 

I watched him go, already missing his presence. I held on the necklace he gifted me, when he promised he will never let anyone hurt me. And he did accomplish his promise.

[autisticmight]

bnha + "i don't want to be alone right now" :3c

au of the first/last chapter of hear the world’s keening. if you’ve been following me for more than a month, you know what that entails. if you haven’t, then. cw for suicide

Izuku had answered the call as soon as it had flashed up on his phone. It was one of the most comforting Caller ID pictures he had, of All Might smiling gently with the sunset behind him, but now, all that Izuku can see is a hand pointing towards him, and all he can hear is a voice that tells him you’re next.

His phone’s speaker is pressed against his ear before he can fully wake up, with the summer sun leaking through the cracks in his curtains illuminating his room.

“All Might?” he asks, trying not to let his exhaustion drag down his voice.

“Oh.” By the sound of it, he hasn’t fooled All Might. His hero says, “Did I wake you up, my boy? I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise, All Might!” he exclaims. “I usually wake up at around this time. I need to keep myself in top shape to handle One For All!”

A huff of air makes Izuku’s phone speaker crackle. “Of course you do, my boy. I’m… I’m sorry for disturbing you. I should hang up now.”

Izuku experiences a sensation that is roughly equivalent to being dropped into a lake filled with villains with no warning. It’s cold, sudden, all-encompassing, and Izuku’s mind starts to whirr fast enough to process information it doesn’t yet have.

“No!” he exclaims as the feeling hits. He swings his legs out of bed and starts to open drawers to cleaner clothes. Then he splutters, because he can’t talk back to All Might! “I mean, if you have something better to do, then yeah, but I like talking to you.”

Still, there’s something in Izuku’s mind, and it sounds like the echoes of his regrets about work experience. About not pushing further with Iida; about not helping him before it was too late. He changes his pants, and stumbles his way into a pair of shorts he left on the floor last night.

Though his cheeks flush scarlet, Izuku stutters out, “You always make me so happy. I want to do whatever I can to make you feel the same. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s another sound; a hitching of breath. All Might makes a quiet sound, like he’s trying to speak, but the noise is uncertain and malformed, so Izuku can’t make it out. Through the speaker, he hears All Might take another breath.

“I don’t want to…”

His voice cracks on that last word, trailing off into a telltale gulp of blood.

“Young Midoriya, I’m so sorry,” he says, softly enough that Izuku has to press his phone right against his ear to make out the words. “I shouldn’t have called. I shouldn’t have placed this burden on you.”

Izuku shakes his head, as if All Might could possibly see it from over the phone line. “All Might, you’re never a burden. You have to know that i’d do anything for you, right?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, maybe, or it could be the best thing to say in that moment, because all that All Might does is let out a clear, choked sob.

With quick motions and a lot of smart moves, if Izuku does say so himself, he shrugs out of his nightshirt and into a t-shirt. He shrugs on his short-sleeved parka, and listens to All Might’s hollow voice.

“That’s the problem, my boy,” he says, in words that barely connect. “Izuku, my boy, you shouldn’t do anything for me. I’m… I’m going to disappoint you. I’m going to make you sad, and nothing else. I’m sorry, Izuku. I’m sorry.”

Those words spark a trigger in him; one that has been there for over a decade, now. All Might and I’m sorry and that sinking sense of despair.

“Where are you, All Might?” he asks, hoping that his voice is firmer than he feels.

“No…”

And that whisper seems to be something that All Might isn’t even aware that he’s saying. It’s soft, intoned, and filled with the anger that Izuku remembers from the USJ fight. Only, there’s no enemy for the anger to be directed at, and Izuku would know if it was meant for him, because All Might would make that clear.

All Might lets out a laugh that sounds more like a wheeze of pain. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His quivering words burst into a mantra, and Izuku opens his door, searching for his sneakers. He grabs a bottle of water and a handful of protein bars, writes a quick note to his mother - Gone out. Emergency. Don’t worry. I’ll be home. - and yanks his tied-up trainers onto his feet.

“Please, All Might, tell me where you are, and I swear that I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he says, interrupting the babbling apologies.

All Might lets out a long, whining note through the phone. It hurts to hear, but Izuku keeps listening as he walks out of the door of his apartment and hurries down the stairs.

“All Might, I need to know,” he says, trying to push the desperation through those words without letting it become a mess of unintelligible syllables.

“Forest. Training,” he chokes out. “The clearing.”

There. Izuku knows that place. When he had first started training there, it was an hour’s jog from Dagobah Beach. Now, he thinks that he can make it from home in less than half of that time.

“Wait for me,” says Izuku. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He stretches his muscles out, keeps the phone against his ear, and begins to run.

He can’t lose himself in his footsteps, no matter how hard he tries. He still counts every thud of his feet against the ground, even if he keeps forgetting what number he’s on, and having to pick one at random to start from again. Instead, he can hear All Might sniffling and hiccuping on the phone, and the occasional broken apology. Each one spurs him to run faster, until he’s climbing over a fence and stumbling through the underbrush, until he finds his way to a semi-familiar path.

He runs, and he runs. A deer flashes across his vision, and birds sing in the trees above him, but it doesn’t matter, because Izuku is finding; has found-

In the very tall tree that Izuku had climbed with All Might’s help, a noose hangs. There is a stool underneath it, meant for someone to step on and kick out.

At the bottom of the tree, babbling nonsense into his phone, is All Might.

Izuku hangs up and, in a flash like a bolt, he flings his arms around All Might’s thin torso.

“What the hell?” he gasps, his eyes burning. “All Might, what the hell?”

“I don’t want to be alive.”

The words are almost muffled against Izuku’s hair, as All Might clings to the back of his parka.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, seeing as your my fan and all. I just wanted to talk to you, one last time.” All Might snorts, and it’s not a pleasant or humorous sound. “I should’ve known it would make me chicken out. I just…”

Izuku waits, pressing himself against All Might’s arrhythmic heartbeat. He’s warm. He’s alive, still.

A hand makes its way into Izuku’s hair, holding on like a lifeline. All Might’s voice is subdued, but still, Izuku is thankful that he can hear it at all.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” he says. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Izuku replies, as gentle as his mother. “I’m here. I’m not leaving. I’m here.”

[honeyedmilks]

1-12, 14-19, 27-29, 32. 42 and 54 :D You don't have to answer them all hahaha

assiehfaefa ima answer them all! thank you so much angel!

1: favourite kdrama

let’s say that my current favourites are; the princess’ man, and jealousy incarnate!

2: least favourite kdrama

least favourite… hwarang, strong woman do bong soon, and drinking solo. i just dislike these. but if we’re talking one i like but wouldn’t have at the top of my list… then moon lovers. 

3: first kdrama i watched:

it was boys over flowers!!! wow!!! the memories… the tears… so iconic… i couldn’t watch lee min ho in anything for a long time because go jyun pyo broke my heart!!! 

4: last kdrama i watched: 

i’m currently watching school 2017 (!!!!!!!!!!!! kim tae woon i loveth you) and also watching an oldie drama called the woman who still wants to marry. it’s based around female friendship and i’m at ep 11 and still going!

5: kdrama otp (s):

oh boy so here we go!!! in no particular order, here are some pairings i really do love/ cried over/ had lots of feelings over!!

kim shin and eun tak (i miss my sweet souls) from goblin

lee se ryung and kim seung yoo from the princess’ man

park do kyung and oh hae young from oh hae young again

pyo na ri and lee hwa shin from jealousy incarnate

do min joo and cheong song yi from my love from another star

i’m sure there are more but these are whay come to mind right now! :’)

6: kdrama notp (s)

dugfsfhdsi 

wang so with tragedy and injustice!!!

7: preferred drama genre

honestly it first of all romance, but these days i love a good melodrama! romantic comedies are good too if they’re done well! i do also love a good fantasy… or saeguk, but again it depends on what kind of saeguk… drama’s about friendships… family… they can be really interesting. i’ll be honest and say my least favourite genre are workplace dramas. 

8: first drama i considered my favourite:

ooh… that’s hard… let me think… i think it was reply 1988- until it crushed my pathetic heart into a million pieces.

9: favourite korean actors

ooh… gong yoo (not just because he’s a fantastic actor but he’s also such a lovely awesome guy),

lee joon gi (for his magnificent micro-expressions)

ryu jun yeol (WHEN WILL HE RETURN TO DRAMALAND???!!!)

jo jung suk (you all must see him in jealousy incarnate)

seo in guk 

seo kang joon (he played my love, baek in ho)

 and so ji sub!

10: favourite korean actress (es)

zamn let’s do this then!

gong hyo jin (she is sooo lovely and brilliant!!)

kim go eun (again lovely and brilliant!!!) 

jun ji hyun (who doesn’t love her dramas tho) 

shin min ah (i love all these talented ladies so much it’s not even funny)

yoo in nah

uee

kim hee-ae

kim seul gi 

and lee sung kyung!

11: favourite kdrama cliche

ha! i honestly am such a sucker for the main leads doing sweet things like looking after the female lead when she’s hurt- even if it’s buying her medicine, looking after her when she’s drunk. just thoughtful things in general. and i like it when the female lead does the same for the male lead. like just doing lovely things for the other :( 

i am also a whore for long hidden glances and petty silly jealousy or crushing babbling nonsense (not like scary jealousy tho) and honestly who doesn’t love a good hearts racing, cheeks blushing cliche moment? 

when drama’s do parodies of other famous drama’s idhfud they just take the mick it’s so funny

food, everywhere, yummy ramen, yummy spicy rice cakes… yummy… yumness…

oh and a good crying scene… shed those dramatic tears my boy!!!!

12: least favourite kdrama cliche

wrist grabbing oiadhc’iuafh 

MISUNDERSTANDINGS, like the real ugly kind

noble idiocy is just… it rarely works… please stop making my soul suffer… 

evil mothers ;(((((( 

the dreaded make over

14: boys over flowers or secret garden?

boys over flowers!!!! watching secret garden makes me sightly sick now oahiduhfa the main lead :////// plus bof has lee min ho and his perm and i live for that look

15: weightlifting fairy kim bok joo or cheese in the trap?

now what cruel person… i want to say cheese in the trap just because i love baek in ho so much and it was such a thrill at the start… but i’ll have to go with weightlifting fairy… there’s more pro’s in this drama… like the fact i actually finished it when it was airing… 

16: jealousy incarnate or oh my ghostess?

definitely jealousy incarnate, lee jong suk is really brilliant as lee hwa shin and even though i have to admit that i didn’t watch the side stories, and mostly only the stories of lee hwa shin and pyo nari… it’s still better than oh my ghostess in my opinion. the latter show made me uncomfortable- mostly due to the fact the main lead was falling in love with a mix of two people. it just made me a bit itchy :(( and sad :(( because then the romance is a bit of a mess

17: descendants of the sun or w: two world?

hmm.. i actually did start descendants but dihfiadhf for the life of me could not get past the first two episode, maybe it was the dramatic love song at the end of their first meeting that had me both scratching my head and stifling laughter. but i’ve heard good things about w, and did want to pick it up until i heard the ending went a bit lopsided, so to save myself disappointment, i did not watch it. 

18: moonlight drawn by clouds or legend of the blue sea?

okay so this is tricky… mdbc is critically… probably a better drama but despite it’s flaws i really have to say legend of the blue sea. i watched it the whole way through, and i really love the soundtrack (which im actually listening to as i answer these) and the main characters, and it made me laugh a lot even if i did cry a little over the greatness it could’ve been :((

19: strong woman do bong soon or shopping king louie?

dsuigfiddifdfiv shopping king louie! how cute were booksil and louie ::((( so cute!!

27: favourite kdrama bromance

okay so this is an interesting question… probably the friendship between park do kyung and all his male friends from oh hae young again… their loyalty was heart warming, but grimsie and kim shin from goblin were cute friends too.

28: favourite kdrama friendship

i have a few!

oh hye won and her friend ji soo from secret love affair. i really loved their friendship, how ji soo was a pillar of support for hye won, she was a real friend. 

i really truly love the friendship between the three main female leads in the woman who still wants to marry- it’s so warm. 

oh hae young and her friend in oh hae young again are also very sweet, i’m really glad hae young had a friend she could talk to. 

oh and the friendships between shim cheong and all her cute oddball friends in legend of the blue sea :’((( that was pure stuff right there

and let’s not forget the kids and family on the block in reply 1988, its honestly so lovely :’((

i feel like there’s almost always a sidekick friend in kdrama’s but never are they good friendships that make me feel things :( sometimes the friend is just a prop 

29:  favourite actor/actress duo? (one male, one female)

oooh… this is hard… if this was bollywood it would be easier because i would’ve just said kajol and sharukh khan… but here… lemme think… now that i think about it… i really liked gong hyo jin with so ji sub in the master’s sun. i also really liked park hyun sik and lim ji yeon together in high society. but otherwise… my brain is frazzled!! 

how could i forget minah and namgung min in beautiful gong shim :((( they had such great chemistry 

but lets be real jo jung suk and gong hyo jin in jealousy incarnate were hilarious. 

32: do you watch drama’s with 30 plus episodes?

oh boy oh boy… i think i did watch one? but skipped a load of it to watch one couple… i mean i’ve thought about it? especially with father is strange… but it’s a pretty rare case. i know i’ve started some but couldn’t get through them all :(

42: favourite kdrama kiss scene 

ihfr’iue ye’qewu the kisses in coffee prince… are truly something… 10/10

54: recommend 3 fluffy AF dramas

efrhiptfuohf’rgh let us see… this is hard because kdrama’s don’t like being complete fluff… but the woman who wants to marry is a wild bit of fun :((

my girlfriend is a gumiho is a really nice watch, wouldn’t call it 100% fluff because… i cried a little 

oh and splash splash love is short and sweet without being too silly :’)

and i guess my only love song is a load fluff, you can enjoy its strange antics and not take it too seriously! 

thank you for these lovely questions

send me some asian drama asks!