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marigoldenblooms · 9 months ago

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Unica Semper Avis - Chapter 1

Pairing: Cleric!Wanda x Fem!AvianShifter!Reader x MonsterHunter!Natasha

Prompt: Ever since you’ve come of age, you’ve never been able to stop yourself from transforming into a monster. Whenever the sky would dim with a New Moon, you’d ravage the world with a fury unknown by many. Such is the bane existence of your species. This time, however - something was different. Now, you need help. On the feeble doorstep of the so-called ‘Spirit Healer,’ you found yourself both at the mercy of a cleric, and of a monster hunter’s blade. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

MINORS DNI - 18+

TW/General Tags: No mention of Y/N, slow burn, stranger to lovers (Wanda), enemies to lovers (Natasha), eventual smut (lord have mercy), Swearing, Fantasy violence, occasional descriptions of light body horror during transformation, slight self harm, slight restraint, angst, fluff, will add tags as they appear!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, canon-level violence, use of medieval weapons, body horror description in transformation, magic use, slight dissociation/self harm, restraint, fluff (for five seconds), R is a simp, so is W, N is not here to play, etc.

A/N: I’ve been working on this next chapter ever since the previous. Chapter two is coming along quickly as well! I want to keep a bit of a backlog for my longer fics, so updates will be as frequent as I can manage. The name established in this chapter for R will be used sparingly, but I loved what Missmonsters2 did with Between the Lines when I read it months ago, and thought it’d be pertinent until nicknames/pet names are established (and for as long as I can avoid conversation where names are necessary).

R’s monster form brought to you by bearded vulture inspiration! Feel free to imagine your own version of avian horror to your heart’s content. Enjoy, y’all!

Word Count: 3.1k - Read Length: 11 minutes, 18 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~ The healer’s home was nothing short of overwhelming.

Multi-colored knick-knacks were strewn on every surface, perched below gatherings of drying, braided flowers which hung from the rafters. Beneath your feet, woven rugs of alternating sizes dotted the cabin’s cool wooden floors, like islands between a chilled sea of timber. The front door lead further into a sitting room, offering glimpses into a small, quaint looking kitchen, adorned with a single well-worn table and chair. Within that same place, a large pot was held still on the counter by wisps of scarlet magic, another more opaque plume coaxing a wooden spoon to stir whatever was inside.

Paintings hung along every wall, although you could never get a full glance at one, as though they’d subtly shift and change muses whenever you’d look away. The sound of a shutting door would heighten your senses enough to break from the scenery, turning on your heels to face the home’s owner once again. She’d pry at you with a half-smile, and you’d solidify your gaze at the floor before her eyes could have the chance to meet yours.

“What brings you to my home?” She’d question evenly, her words a pleasing rasp- smooth molasses which could easily cloud your senses if you allowed her to. You’d see her form move to the side of you in your peripheral, yet you’d remain still, your stare continuing to bore a hole into her carpet.

Wordlessly, you’d tug at your shawled sleeve to show the back of your arm. Running along the skin’s expanse were thin ridges, pin feathers prickling beneath taut flesh. A light down speckled your skin in odd patches, consolidated mostly on your neck and shoulders for now. Your hair had begun to fleck and grow waxy and silkish, akin to dense ostrich feathers, tousled from your trek to her abode. You’d watch the ground as her shadow would shift around you, a curious tsk showcasing her intrigue.

You wouldn’t see her raised expression, eyebrows furrowed as she’d take your wrist without warning, raising it up so she could see the indentation better in the light. She’d drop your arm as soon as she’d grabbed it, falling limply to your side, and her smooth voice would threaten to carry you off again. “Fascinating..your affliction isn’t something I’ve seen recently.”

“Can you help?” You’d mumble, the few phrases coming to you sounding choked from lack of use, and you could hear the healer’s grunt at your lackluster response. You’d swallow thickly, trying to find the words to explain all that you were, but none arrived. She’d circle around you once more, and before you could flinch away, would capture your chin between her thumb and forefinger, wrenching it to make you look at her- green irises narrowing as you’d shut yours, unwilling to look her in the eye. You’d half expect her grip to be cold like the Matron’s, but her touch’s pleasant warmth was something you almost missed as she’d let go of you, the shuffle of her arms crossing heightened behind your closed eyelids.

“I can’t help a patient I can’t trust,” She’d muse with a teasing lilt, rolling her r’s in a way that made your chest flutter. Was this another symptom of your molt? It had been a long time since you’d been with another and the thought made your heart ache, albeit not more than your bones. “Why won’t you look at me?”

The scoff that came in response to her was almost too easy, opening your eyes after directing your head to the floor again, “Because I am no threat to you.” “And why would I assume that?” She’d retort immediately, and you’d glare into the ground. Why was talking so easy for her? Why couldn’t she understand that you weren’t like her? You’d raise your arm aloft again, the skin burning now as you’d twist the plumage under your flesh for her view. The rage that had been festering in you for days unlocked a torrent of your words, finally finding purchase in your mouth- frustration evident in how each phrase was ripped from your throat. Your larynx would be useless beyond a breathing tool soon, so you better use it now. Your nails clawed at your arms, doubling into yourself, “Because you are human and I am not, healer- is that not something you’re able to understand-?!”

“Relax for me-” she’d grit, and you’d feel your stomach plummet at her words. Something in them begged obedience, and for a second you felt as though you were back in your nightmare. You’d twitch, glance immediately circling the ceiling as something would restrain you- thin tendrils of crimson magic, keeping your arms from flaring out at your sides. As if seeing your frustration, your panic, the healer’s sorcery would calm, soothing both your body and your mind into an unnatural lull. “You’re…using-” you’d begin, yet words would evade you once again, no longer fueled by anger. There was only a different feeling- regret, and uncomfortable stone in your stomach that you shied away from, wanting to cower from its weight. You didn’t like yelling at this woman, even as she cradled you with her witchcraft.

You’d feel her heat again, warm hands placing tentative touches to your shoulders, slowly coaxing your glance to hers. “I’m sorry,” she’d breathe, shallow as you’d feel her palms shake against you, “I didn’t want you… to hurt yourself-” Her irises, blooming with clouds of red, would drain into green as you’d feel her magic loosen around your body like unraveling ropes. You wouldn’t shy away from her this time, panting as her gaze would share her soul with you. She, too, held that stone in her gut. Perhaps she didn’t fear you.

You’d part as her back would stiffen, adding a few feet between the two of you. “What is your name?” She’d ask, and you saw the way her head tilted since you looked at her face. Your words came easier now that you were less tense, muscles losing their rigidity, and yet you didn’t have an answer for her. You still pried into her windows, eyes flicking across the expanse of her garden from the view you could get from her living room, but it was a start. “I met your gaze, healer..I’ve done my part, you first.”

You’d see the way her nose crinkled at your response, flecks of mirth illuminating her expression, a grin finding its place there, “Talking now, are we? I’m Wanda.” “I’m..Margo.” In truth, you hadn’t had a name in years, the few decades you’d been alive focused more on survival than memory, especially when your molts made it difficult to discern who you really were- humanoid or avian. You’d forgotten your birth name ages ago, and it was a blessing that your words left your mouth as cleanly as they did. She’d tut at your response, taking it in as satisfactory, “Sure…Margo. Would you like to sit down?”

Wanda would guide you to her kitchen table without much fanfare, settling you on her single chair. With a focused look and a wave of her hand, however- a duplicate would reveal itself from a cloud of scarlet mist. “Your magic is red?” You’d inquire, tilting your head as you’d seen her do, “It’s a violent color. Why is that?”

“Do you really want to toe that line?” Her phrase were humorous, yet you swear a flash of indignation peppered her visage. You were not going to mess with that line, whatever she meant by that. “No, Wanda.” She smiled at that, her name seemingly pleasing in your mouth. You felt the flutter in your chest again, heart drumming a little faster against your shifting ribcage. If this was a sign of your incoming succession, then you had to finish this fast- to return before you transformed in Wanda’s house. And yet, why was the feeling almost pleasant?

“You said you haven’t seen my ‘affliction’ in a while,” You’d recount, finding her term for your molt unremarkable. You’d offer her a glimpse of your arm again, hesitating to touch the quills beneath. It was always tender before a lunation, and you didn’t want to aggravate the transformation further, “It doesn’t normally happen so soon. In hours before the new moon, maybe- not over days.”

“And what happens after those hours?” She’d coax your arm down with a gentle wave, seeing how your movements grew stiff as your skeleton hollowed out. You shrug, “I transform.” Wanda’s expression would sour, yet curiosity prickled underneath. Why did she look at you like that? “Can you help me? You said you're familiar with my kind.”

“..In truth, I’ve never met someone like you,” She’d murmur, expression bashful, and if the circumstances were different you would’ve taken it as a compliment. Instead, spiked embers of dread seared in your stomach, heart beginning to thrum in your ears. She didn’t know. Could she even help you? Her voice would raise a little louder, “However, if you tell me about yourself, perhaps I could figure it out.” With a twirl of her fingers, two cups of..something floated towards the table. Her gaze was an offer, “Thirsty?”

You’d nod, your throat suddenly dry. The drink was smooth and warm, with a bite of something fresh and crisp. It was much better than your rainwater. Gulping more of it down, you notice how she’d smile at your eagerness, careful not to spill as you’d raise the cup from its saucer. “Cider,” she’d mention, motioning to her mug, “Where are you from?” “My cavern is far from here. About half a day’s walk.” Wanda’s eyebrows would raise. “Cavern? You live in a cave?” Her interest was a delight, and you wanted to keep it for as long as you could. You didn’t answer her question, instead throwing one back at her, “Why do you live far from your town?”

“Bellmoor?” Amusement would blanket Wanda’s expression, snorting as she’d shake her head, twisting in her chair so she could lean forward towards you, “Because I like my peace and quiet. I assume the same for you, Птичка?”

“What does that mean?” You’d ask, and she’d tut again. “Now now, that can be your next question, but it’s my turn.” She’d scrunch her nose at your grumbling acquiesce, and you couldn’t help but smile with her. You liked this game. Wanda rested her hands on her table, and your eyes were caught on the shimmer of her rings as she’d speak, “Can you control your transformation?” That one was easy. “Fuckin’ wish I could...” Wanda’s brows would reach her hairline at your curse, but you wouldn’t give her time to comment as yours would stream from your maw, though it’d stop early, “No Aegypius can. What does..”

“‘Птичка’ mean?” She’d grin, rasping her knuckles on the wooden grain at each syllable, “Little bird, birdie, you have feathers underneath your skin, yes?” You’d send her a taunting look, one that she met in equal measure. You’d smile back at her, “Is that your question?”

Wanda would balk, gotten so caught up in teasing you that her words just tumbled out with no direction. You’d see her cheeks grow pink, clearing her throat with a stuttered breath, and you swear she felt like you did when you felt that flutter. “No, it isn’t-” She’d respond smoothly, but you caught how her eyes shimmered, and you took another sip of cider. You knew why when her words made your mind double-take, “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

You almost spit out your drink, coughing on it as you’d sputter, blush alighting your face. You felt it warm and you tried to hide it away, your flustered reaction seemingly pleasing Wanda. She certainly didn’t know what that meant to you, “I..you want me to stay with you- I’m going to molt tonight, Wanda.”

“And if I am to help your transformation, then I must see it in person,” She’d respond, never losing her smile. It soothed you, that richness in her tone and that calm in her expression, and you’d feel a new pull in your heart. One you hated.

Your instincts wanted you to ruin her. Wanted her vulnerable as she was, to splinter her bones into shards you didn’t even have to chew.

To take advantage of her weakness, your hunger eating you alive unless you picked her clean, consumed-

You’d swallow, a shaky breath leaving you. Wanda had blinked, and your voice acted quicker than your mind would comprehend, “I don’t want it helped, Wanda. I want it gone.” You’d feel your skin itch at that, and a cold dread filled your gut, like the Matron’s chill held you once again. Your words were a whisper. “But I don’t think my body will let me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay. Do you have anything that helps you calm down?” She’d ask, leaning forward with a gentle lilt. Her hand would’ve come across the table, offering her palm to yours. It was calloused, warm skin juxtaposed with smooth metal, and you took it in yours gratefully. You were starting to really like her company.

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

The hours would’ve floated by you, a subtle bliss filling you as you and Wanda would’ve enjoyed the rest of your evening together. You could feel your body shift by the hour, and yet a part of you didn’t care if you were with her. You’d show her your chains, mentioning their unknown inscription and how they’d keep your form….distracted. You would be kept in the barn once the moonless night had begun, the sky within a period of tranquil dusk. She ghosted her hand across the rim of your shackles, and you were surprised they didn’t burn her like they did you. An Aegypius trait, you supposed.

Wanda had made you stew using that pot from earlier, while you hovered in the vicinity, chopping up carrot and onion into more manageable pieces. The meal was finished after it had boiled for a long time, and it was only when you sat down to enjoy it with her that a blink of movement would catch your eye. The bay windows curved in a beautiful shape that let the last vestiges of light in, and you’d register the sight of silver metal piercing into the glass before you heard it smash.

A figure leapt through its shattered remains, thick cloak blanketing their form to protect them from the glass. Their armor and longsword was polished beautifully, and they would be regal if it wasn’t for their war shout and barred teeth. You could see their face beneath their hood, just before the glint of their weapon as it’d slice down towards your chest.

You’d dodge, rushing backwards until your back hit the other end of the wall. As the longsword would finish its downward arc, Wanda’s magic would cradle its blade, her hands outstretched and bent as if trying to push it up. Her voice was strangled and thin, heard between the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, “run, Margo- go!”

Turning to bolt, you’d hear the clatter of boots against wood as a rougher hand would grab you by the scruff of your neck. Writhing in their hold, you’d shove your elbow into the ribs of your attacker, before grabbing their hand from your nape to sink your teeth into it. “Fuck, you гриф-” The knight’s heavy breath was audible from behind your back. You’d bite harder, feeling their skin break beneath your jaw as you’d thrash, trying to cleave flesh off. They’d tear their hand from you, kicking your legs with a force that sent you barreling down.

Your head would hit the hardwood floor, and you could hear the ringing in your ears as you’d look up, vision swimming as everything looked double. Your hooded attacker brandished their longsword with two hands above you, although it looked like they had four. Before they could stab the blade downward, Wanda’s hand would lurch out to their neck- pressing the kitchen knife into their throat as her other palm would scratch towards the knight’s eyes, the pair barreling backwards which left you an outside view that made your pupils retract into pinpricks.

The sky was dark, illuminated with bright swaths of stars. Tears pricked at your eyes. The few treetops you saw couldn’t even reach its height, blanketing the world in an awaiting gloom. You knew the moon was out there, but you couldn’t see it. Your mind reeled, thoughts growing famished as you’d stare into its expanse. You licked your lips. The sky offered you reprieve, and who were you to deny its feast?

The wheezing pop of bone into stronger sockets would startle Wanda and her assailant into a tense standoff, your witch pinning the stranger to the floorboards while the knight tried in vain to grasp at their longsword that had been kicked many feet away. Your breath heaved with strength you hadn’t felt before, seizing as the voice that came from you was no more than a guttural hiss. Your skull would reshape, mouth widening into a curved beak, hooking into serrated edges, while your skull would become angular, bird like. Anything but human, you were no longer recognizable. Feathers would blanket the creature’s shifting musculature, tearing from roughened skin as they’d fan into shape. Its arms and legs grow as its fingers would lengthen, bat-like wings creaking before they’d be covered in plumage; ivory white on it’s neck and shoulders, cascading into darker blacks and blues elsewhere. The monster’s feathers wouldn’t remain unpigmented for long, as they’d begin to warm on its skin- sparks flying from where they touched, growing into a burnt umber. The beast would groan as its wings crashed to the floor- bipedalism was no longer an option, the force cracking the wooden boards. Horns would thunder from shaking its monstrous head, the beast’s eyes blinking into pale gold with a crimson ring surrounding them. A black line of feathers ran down the side of its face and to its gaping maw, tufted at its chin. Its feathers had heated into shades of orange, flecked with flame- while cyan speckled where its temperature had reached an apex.

Silence would still the room, the shaky inhale of breath marking the presence of living beings in it’s fray. The demon would blink again, a gnashing sound emanating from inside its cavernous beak. It’d then raise itself on its haunches, spread its twelve meter wingspan (shattering the walls in its wake), and echo a deafening, reverberating call into the night.

The hunt had truly begun. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

~~~

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saint-end · 2 months ago

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EDIT: THIS SALE IS NOW CLOSED!! THANK YOU! I am now working through the list of requests, if you have sent a comm request you will be contacted as i work thru the list! If you feel unsure that you've made the list, please email me in the same chain and i will confirm with you there! ^^ Any new requests will be deleted and regular comms will reopen when I'm done with the backlog! The sale was extremely popular so if it takes a while to be contacted i apologize and thank you for the patience! ✦ [email protected] ✦ Hello!! I'm doing a sale as thanks for all the support this year and for xmas money! (help) This sale will go on until November 29 2024 and will be my 1st priority for fast completion. Unlimited per person. ✦ Reblogs and shares are very appreciated! ✦ read below before contacting me!

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reidsrambles · 6 months ago

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An Invisible Locket

Chapter 7: Gravity

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 4.8 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Spencer and Derek are quickly treated at the hospital while the rest of the team assists the local PD in processing the scene and finalizing our part of the case.

Jeremy talked pretty quickly once they got him in custody. He said that his entire “message” was to warn against medical misinformation, hence the MO and the site they used to lure their first victims. In reality, Jeremy is just a narcissistic psychopath who’s got a lot of psychological damage and abandonment issues. He wanted total control over someone, and he got that with Mason. Shooting Spencer and Derek will just be another charge to help keep that monster locked up for a very long time.

By the time Spencer and Derek are cleared to fly, it’s 7 p.m. The team rolls into the BAU at nine. You and Penelope wait near the elevator as they trickle in and greet everyone with hugs and I-missed-you’s.

Of course, Spencer, Derek, and Hotch came up last. It takes every ounce of willpower to not run straight into his arms. The fact he has a horrible bruise on his chest aids your willpower here, though. Penelope follows everyone else into the bullpen, and it’s finally just you and Spencer alone.

After the jet left Florida, you and Penelope developed a plan. You knew you needed to get Spencer alone as soon as possible to talk. Penelope planned to hang around the bullpen with the team, keeping track of them while they grab their stuff and head home. If anyone asks, she’ll say that you went to your office to pack up and that Spencer already left for the night. No one’s going to stick around long, anyway. They’re all exhausted.

The hallway outside the bullpen that leads to your office is quiet. One of the night shift custodians turns the corner towards you, broom in hand, probably looking for spots the vacuum missed. He greets you with a nod, which you reciprocate as you pass.

“So, I didn’t leave work on time,” you say.

You push the door to your office open, leaning on it as it closes behind you both. The room is quiet except for the low whir emanating from the server racks.

Spencer’s standing directly in front of you, his face an inch from yours as you breathe each other in again.

“That’s okay,” he says, flashing you a tired smile. “I didn’t either.”

“When Hotch said you and Derek were—” You choke back your words to avoid breaking down.

Spencer nods in understanding but doesn’t speak.

“I was so scared,” you add, voice breaking.

He pulls you into an embrace, holding your head against his chest as he kisses your hair. Your bodies gently shift side to side, rocking each other’s bodies and soothing you both.

“I know, baby. I’m okay, though.”

You want to be angry at his attempt to reassure you. You almost weren’t okay, Spencer. What if he had aimed his gun a little higher?

But he’s here, standing in front of you, safe.

He also shot Jeremy in the leg, allowing Derek to take him down and cuff him. Another serial killer is in custody because of his bravery and quick action.

You lift your head off his chest to look up at him. You can see the fatigue in his face, but yours surely mirrors his to some degree.

Reaching a hand up, you touch his face. His facial hair is stubbly, rough under your fingertips. Your fingers trail down his jaw, across his lower lip, down the bridge of his nose. He simply observes you as you touch him, taking him in.

Bringing your hand to rest on his shoulder, you let your eyes do the wandering on their own, now. The overhead lights in your office are dimmed, which is how they stay overnight. The bags under his eyes are visible, but softened in this light. He always looks so incredibly beautiful, but when he’s staring at you like it’d kill him to look away, it’s astonishingly hard to believe you could have ever seen him as anything less.

Your breathing shallows as you give his face an up-and-down, gaze darting between his eyes and mouth.

Spencer dances his open mouth over yours, breathing you in. Before the tension can build too much, he presses a deep kiss to your mouth. Neither of you can withstand much restraint right now, and nothing could feel as comforting in this moment as Spencer loving on you.

Your hands slide down to his hips, pulling his body even closer to yours. The friction feels so good. He’s already semi-hard and you just wish you could drop to your knees, take him in your mouth, and worship his body. The urge to please him and to make him feel good is so strong, but words unsaid gnaw at your conscience in a vicious tug of war.

His body pressed to yours feels like aloe numbing the searing pain of a scraped knee. Being back in his arms, your heart would be bursting right now if it weren’t weighed down by the elephant in the room, visible only to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, searching your eyes for a clue. “There’s something on your mind.”

Correction: the elephant, visible to both of you.

Almost instantly, tears fall.

Spencer pulls you to his chest, seeming to ignore his injury. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

He leads you over to your desk chair to sit down and he takes Penelope’s chair, rolling the few feet over to you.

“Is this about my chest?” he asks. “It’s just a bruise. No fractures or anything, so I’ll be okay,” he softly laughs, attempting to lighten the mood.

This is fucking terrifying. You can hear it in his voice, how concerned for you he is. He’s trying to look at you—trying to read you, but you can barely meet his eyes without breaking down into sobs.

“We need to talk,” you choke out.

Realization washes over his face. This isn’t about the gunshot which could have killed him. It’s something else entirely.

He doesn’t reply. He takes both of your hands in his—you hadn’t realized how cold yours were until now—and he nods.

Okay, swallow. Deep breath. No beating around the bush.

“I’m pregnant.”

His expression shifts a few times as he processes it. His eyes almost sparkle as they well up with tears.

“Are you–I–” He can’t even get a sentence out.

Spencer crushes you to his chest and cries. You fall into his embrace and continue sobbing, too. Whatever his feelings are, you’re still not sure, but to know that he needs to hold you is enough in this exact moment.

He pulls away just enough to plant kisses all over your face and neck, a smile contrasting his wet cheeks.

“Hold on Spence. Is that… Uh, how do you feel?” you ask him.

He pauses for a second before asking, “Well, do you want to be pregnant?”

When you don’t immediately answer, his eyes search your face with worry.

You try to figure out how to tie your many thoughts together eloquently. “I haven’t really had much time to even think about it. I’ve just sort of been in limbo about it with this case and with you being gone.” You wipe your cheeks with the side of your finger. “On the phone today, Hotch led by saying that you’d been shot but he didn’t know how bad it was. I think I nearly had a heart attack. Penelope and I have been giving this case our all. Now that you’re back, I feel like I can just breathe, at least.”

“Tell you what, why don’t we grab our stuff, head home, and get into bed? Then, we can talk about it or we can just sleep and save the talking for tomorrow when we’ve rested.”

Spencer kisses your forehead before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

All you can do is nod. The only place you want to be is in bed with him, hiding from the real world for a bit.

***

You wake up in the exact same position you fell asleep in. You’re pressed into Spencer’s side, an arm and leg draped over his body. If you didn’t have to wipe the drool off your face, you probably would have just laid there until Spencer naturally woke up.

Last night, after a very quick shower together (mostly for Spencer’s sake), you got into bed and crashed.

Spencer’s eyes flutter as he stirs awake. As you sit up to wipe your face, he groans at the loss of your body curled up into his.

“What time is it?” he asks, keeping his eyes closed.

His hair is a mess; his little curls and waves turned to un-styled fluff by his pillow. Your bedroom windows have translucent curtains over them, and he looks so peaceful and beautiful like this: in your bed, your white sheets and poofy duvet like a cloud surrounding him.

Twisting your body, you glance at the alarm clock on your side table.

“It’s ten-to-one.”

He stretches and finally blinks his eyes open.

“We needed sleep, but I’m still surprised we managed to get that much.” He reaches his arms to pull you back down to his side. “Who said you could get up yet?”

The anxiety in your body starts to build. You’ve thought numerous times already about how this conversation would go. You still don’t feel prepared. Your voice quiets to nearly a whisper.

“I have to go put your clothes in the dryer and start breakfast,” you say, unmoving.

Spencer shifts onto his side to face you. Reaching under your loose-fitting t-shirt so that he’s able to touch your bare skin, his hand trails down the side of your body, stopping just above your hip. His thumb gently rubs the side of your stomach. Any other time, this exact gesture would seem completely unremarkable, but right now, you know exactly where his head is at.

“You know you’re a horrible liar, right?” he asks.

“I do need to finish the laundry and start breakfast.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to do that right now. You just feel pressure about this conversation that you know we need to have, and you feel the urge to avoid it.” Why the fuck did you start dating a profiler again? “Plus, you know I’m not letting you do my laundry or make breakfast.”

This man literally just got shot. You’ll be making breakfast, at the very least, whether he likes it or not.

His expression is so soft, his features still a bit puffy from sleeping. His hand brushes your hair off your face and cups your jaw in one sweep. He kisses your forehead first, then the tip of your nose, and lastly, your lips. The final kiss begins as pure as the first two. Chaste. You reach your hand up to his neck, fingers gliding into the hair at the back of his head, and you lean into the kiss, parting your lips. Spencer’s hand shifts to your lower back, pulling your body into his.

You want him, and he wants you. It’s been a long case.

But lust doesn’t erase the thick, heaviness in the air. The weight of the conversation you know you need to have.

As you pull back for a breath, you notice a small droplet of tears at the corners of each eye.

He pulls you back into his body, but this time into a big hug. You’ve been dealing with your own emotions about this pregnancy all week, but right now, his are extremely palpable. He lies on his back again, pulling you with him, into his side. You’re right back where you started.

“We’ve got to talk about it,” he says.

Your lips trill, lax as you let out a big breath.

“I know,” you say.

You’re still very conscious of his injury, so before you rest your arm over his chest again, you check in with him. “Is your chest okay with my arm like that?”

He doesn’t reply. He just grabs your arm and lays it across his chest. The arm he has wrapped around your body squeezes you tighter to him. He feels the pain of his gigantic bruise, but he needs you close.

Whenever you have to have serious conversations, you’ve found it’s easier, especially for Spencer, if you’re somewhere comfortable. Somewhere where you both have the option of closing your eyes or staring off into the distance. It’s easier to think, to talk, and to stay calm.

“I need to know how you feel about this,” he says.

“I don’t even know how you feel. You never told me last night. I didn’t know if you were going to come back, find out I was pregnant, and leave me on the spot.”

“God, I hope you know that I would never do that, Y/N.” He sounds so hurt and you begin to regret ever implying that he could do such a thing. “I can’t even imagine how scary this has been for you, though. Of course, you’d be worried that I’d have a negative reaction.”

He hugs you tight into his body again and kisses the top of your head, as if breathing you in to give himself the strength to continue.

“I love you so much. When you told me, I was definitely in shock for a minute, but as soon as I processed the fact that you were pregnant, and with my baby, I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted more.”

Your slow tears continue to drip down onto his shoulder, and his now-wet cheek has made a mess of your forehead.

You almost want to throw a joke in there. Something to lighten the mood; to escape the weight of this conversation so you don’t feel as though you’re being crushed by it.

Are you sure Penelope isn’t the father? I do spend more time with her.

You don’t even have the energy for your own stupid jokes right now, though.

Spencer continues, “If you decide you don’t want to be pregnant, I can’t lie and say that I wouldn’t be sad, but I would support you and love you exactly the same.”

You take a second to process everything he’s said. There’s no way out of this conversation but through.

He tilts your chin up to examine your face. His hands cradle your head, and through his own teary eyes, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks with his thumbs. He places a loving, quick kiss on your lips.

You’re safe. He’s safe. You’ll figure this out together, like you always do.

Spencer’s looking at you the way he always does. Like you’re his entire world. Even at work, in the quick glances no one pays any mind to, his eyes light up when he sees you.

After a few deep breaths, the word-vomit spills out.

“I’m just so fucking scared, Spence. Aside from the fact that this could put my job at risk, there are so many more factors at play here. This changes everything in our lives if we go forward with this. You know I want kids, but I don’t know if this is the right time. We haven’t been together that long. We aren’t married. My parents aren’t local, so would we have to get a babysitter, or would I have to quit my job to take care of them?

“I just got off Strauss’ chopping block. Penelope and Hotch just went and fought for me, explaining what a ‘valuable member of the team’ I am. If I continue this pregnancy, I’m going to have to tell her that I’m not only leaving on maternity leave—and, how long do you even get maternity leave for?—but that I’m going to be taking more time off because I’ll have a kid to take care of, and kids get sick,” your voice begins to tremble, “and—and I’ll have appointments to take them to. What if we have one of those kids who plays six sports and I have to give up my job to chauffeur them around, or something!?”

Spencer rubs your hand in his while you try your hardest to compose yourself after that spiral.

“First, with us as their parents, I’d be amazed if our kid even played one sport, let alone six.”

His joke has you both laughing, but the soundbite of Spencer saying “our kid” is replaying in your head. Our kid.

Spencer continues talking, bringing you back to reality.

“Also, under FMLA, maternity leave would be up to twelve weeks.” He stops rubbing your hand, instead intertwining your fingers with his. “Putting everything involving work aside for a minute, do you want to be pregnant?”

This is what you’ve been avoiding. Definitively deciding whether or not to continue this pregnancy is fucking terrifying. Since the test, you’ve felt constantly hyper-aware of your uterine contents. You already downloaded one of those pregnancy apps, and this thing is only the size of a peppercorn; a collection of cells the size of a peppercorn. But this thing is your baby, and you want to see it grow.

You can understand how, at an earlier stage of your life, this would have been the last thing you wanted. Right now, though, this feels right. Not only do you trust Spencer and your relationship with him, but more importantly, you have faith in yourself to be a good mom.

You nod your head.

“Then I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make the best of this.”

“I know you will, Spence. You know that a lot’s going to change though, right?”

Having a kid together means lots of change, and obviously you both know that. The question you’re really asking is, “What’s the next step?”

“Even before this whole pregnancy surprise, you and I had developed into something bigger and more special than I could have ever imagined. I can’t even begin to imagine my life without you in it anymore. We got too comfortable living in secrecy. I don’t want any of this to be a secret anymore, though.” Spencer’s voice is getting shakier as he speaks, his chest rising and falling faster under your arm. You tilt your head up to his face and place a few soft kisses along his jawline. He meets your lips for a minute of soft, tender kisses, and then continues.

“I think I’ve spent far too long worrying about things changing with the team…” He speaks as though he’s talking aloud to himself. He often does, processing something as he talks through it. “Change can make things better. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I mean, you’re on the team and things have already changed between us, right?”

“Considering we’re currently in bed together and I’m pregnant with your child, yeah,” you nod.

He laughs into your hair, and you laugh against his well-loved cotton t-shirt. You’d buy him some new shirts if he weren’t so picky about the fit and material. At least these ones hold his scent better.

“I don’t know why I assumed that they’ll think less of me when they find out…”

“About us or the pregnancy?”

“Even before the baby, I had this automatic assumption that they’d have a negative reaction to us dating. That hardly makes sense, though, logically.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to the punch. “And before you tell me that my feelings don’t have to make logical sense, I’m well aware,” he teases.

You giggle. Relaying your therapist’s teachings has paid off.

“I mean, they might have some concerns, especially Hotch. But it’s not like we’re some fling or we’re just fuck-buddies anymore,” you say.

“When you started in the BAU, did you feel sort of like everyone viewed you as though you were a child wearing grown-up clothing?” he asks.

You shake your head to the extent that you can in this position. “No, but I was coming in under very different circumstances than you were when you started.”

Spencer has more than proven himself as a competent, capable, agent, even in the field. He’s told you about how poorly he did during his time at the academy, but you’ve always seen, firsthand, how hard he’s worked to hone those skills.

“I sometimes think that the team still views me like that, but I’ve never felt like they looked at you like that,” Spencer says.

You both sit with that for a moment.

“I know that you know better than anyone that you don’t have to prove yourself to the team, You’re not the 22-year-old new recruit anymore, Spence.”

He nods. “Morgan and Rossi will probably still call me ‘kid’, but I don’t think that will ever change”

You smile. They’ll never stop calling him that.

“Well, shit. We’re really doing this then, huh? We’re gonna be parents,” you say.

Spencer shifts onto his side to face you, slightly wincing at the pain as he moves.

His hand finds your hip again, his thumb stroking the edge of your stomach. His other fingers slowly slip under the waistband of your underwear as he grips your hip. When he looks from your stomach to your lips, you kiss him, beating him to the punch.

You roll onto your back as Spencer gets on top of you, neither of you breaking the kiss in the process. His lips move to kiss and suck on your neck.

“You’re already so perfect in every way, but, god, thinking about you pregnant with my baby just… does something to me.”

“I guess it’s a good thing neither of us have to work today then because I think both of us could use some quality time together,” you say. “In two hours, I have to start getting ready for my therapy appointment, though. Think that’s enough time to satiate us?”

Spencer kisses his way down your body, spending extra time on your stomach.

“No, but I’ll make it work for now.”

***

[8 WEEKS LATER]

“Okay guys, I need everyone’s attention,” JJ yells.

The bull pen quiets. She sent an email out this morning asking everyone in the unit to meet here at the end of the day for “an announcement”. You and Penelope have heard whispers around the office. People think JJ’s announcing that she’s pregnant again, which isn’t surprising given the fact that she’s the only one on the team with a kid.

A few days after the team got back, Spencer asked her if he could come over to talk to her and Will. She got one shock when you showed up with Spencer, arm-in-arm. The look of realization on her face when she opened the door was kind of priceless, though.

When you told her that you were pregnant, she actually gasped and brought her hands up to her mouth in shock. She’s been insanely supportive, obviously. Her pregnancy tips have also been a godsend. You probably wouldn’t have survived the first-trimester morning sickness otherwise.

Now that you’ve hit the 12-week mark, you’ve decided to tell everyone, both about the relationship, and about the baby. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right? You can still hide your tiny baby bump for now, but it’s time to clear the air so you can shift your focus to celebrating and enjoying the pregnancy. Shortly after Spencer got back from Florida, you slowly began moving into his place. He’s had to move some of his books and you had to get rid of some of your purses and shoes, but this little peanut’s nursery is starting to come along.

“Thank you all for coming. So, we do have an announcement today, but it isn’t going to be from me,” JJ says.

Here goes nothing.

You step forward from the group and move to stand beside JJ.

“Hi, guys. So, I—uh, I know this announcement is going to come as quite a shock to you, but I need to tell you all that—,” your eyes lock onto Spencer’s to ground you, “that I am pregnant.”

Spencer gives you a private smile before surveying everyone’s reactions. The murmurs of discussion have returned, louder this time.

Dave marches right up to you, grabbing your face and kissing both of your cheeks before enveloping you in a hug.

“Another BAU grandchild for me! Brava, my dear!”

At your announcement, all Emily could manage was a loud, “Oh my god!” in shock. She comes up to you after Dave and gives you a big hug, rocking you side-to-side.

“Congratulations!” She lowers her voice to a whisper for only you to hear and says, “I can’t believe you’re fucking pregnant!”

“I can barely believe it myself most days. Trust me.”

With an air of cautious implication, Emily says, “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“Yeah, about that…” You shift your attention from Emily to the rest of the room to gather their attention. “Guys, there’s something else I have to tell you.”

Derek chimes in, “Don’t tell us it’s twins,” which elicits a few nervous laughs.

“If it was twins, you know Garcia would have already spilled the beans by accident,” you say.

Penelope, who has been relatively quiet throughout this announcement, speaks up to defend herself. “Hey! For the record, I have worked incredibly hard to keep this secret! My tongue hurts from biting it so much, so you all should be very proud of me!”

You hear Derek privately congratulate her with a “High-five, babygirl. I’m proud of you.”

“Oh, and I’ve been planning the shower for months, so nobody better start getting any ideas!” she adds.

“It’s not twins or triplets or any other form of multiples.” You make a vague gesture of circling your belly. “There’s just one bun in this oven. Depending on how well I’ve been keeping this next secret, this might be more or less of a surprise than the last one. I think everyone knows that I’ve been pretty single since I started working here, so I’m sure you’re all politely and quietly wondering how I found myself with child.”

You could hear a pin drop in this office right now as you swallow. Everyone’s eyes are on you and their anticipation feels like a weight in your chest. Then again, your abdominal organs are all being rearranged, so maybe your liver has just moved in on your diaphragm’s turf or something like that.

“No, it wasn’t immaculate conception. I was single when I started with the BAU, but I’ve become not-single since then and kept it a secret.”

It’s like you can see the gears turning in their heads as you wait for someone to connect the dots.

“We know the father.” Dave says. A statement, not a question.

As all eyes turn towards Spencer, Derek’s utter shock sets in. “No fucking way.”

Spencer’s face is slightly flushed, and he’s sporting a cute little smirk.

“How long has this been going on?” Emily asks, pointing between the two of you.

“You all might want to consider a different career,” you tease, walking over to Spencer and reaching out for his hand.

Finally.

Spencer answers, “As of today, 549 days.”

You follow that up with “Like, a year and a half,” which registers much better with the team.

Everyone remains quiet, their thoughts drifting to past interactions, looking for clues.

“You know, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes,” Emily says.

Derek picks his bag up from the floor beside him. “I think we could all use a drink after that bomb drop. Well, no drinks for Y/N, obviously,” he laughs. “You guys down?”

Dave grabs his bag, as well, and gestures in the direction of the elevators. “First round’s on me to celebrate!”

As everyone funnels out, you and Spencer trail just behind them. He kisses the top of your head and whispers, “We don’t have to hide anymore, baby.”

You look up at him and kiss him as you continue walking. It feels so damn weird to be kissing him in front of your colleagues like that, even though they’re all facing the other direction. It’s so open in here.

“Yeah, the hard part’s over. Now we just have to birth a child and raise them for at least 18 years. That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?” you say.

Spencer nods forward, in the direction of the team. “They say it takes a village, right?”

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jymwahuwu · 2 years ago

Text

Summary: You have been kidnapped and sold as a pet. Blade wants a pet. Content Warning: kidnapping, non-con, dehumanization, body modification (just nipples ><), lactation, humiliation, yandere

dark content, minors DNI

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For details, please visit the official website and social media news. The precious opportunity to meet with pets is right in front of you!

＊(According to the newly revised "Interstellar Pet Act", the company can make a little body modification without compromising the life rights and health of pets.)

Last week a man who lived down the street was taken and disappeared. People are talking about it. It was the employees of the Space Pet Home Company who caught him. Those disrespectful aliens roam the galaxies, capturing random species to sell. This is contemptible. Still, there's nothing anyone can do about it. Under the gaze of a powerful space civilization, the planet you live in is trampled like ants.

On the way home, you browsed the news with your mobile phone, and found that some people searched for the man's photo and selling price on the official website, and posted it on the discussion forum. They offer to raise funds to buy him back to the planet. This is already the most likely way to redeem them to their original planet. You clicked on a link to the pet company's website. Ironically, that's a cute design with clouds and a rainbow, and a little animation that brings the pet home. The website loaded for a while, and a picture of the man was displayed. He looked at the camera with a calm expression on his face. You have no idea what they did to him.

Name: ▄▆▄▂▅▅▄▃

Price: 200000

Below is a description of the pet. You read a few words and feel so sick and horrified. There is also "More Recommendations", which introduces pets of different species, from cats, tentacles, humans to supernatural creatures.

You close the page and want to donate some money. However, you feel a cold, prickly sensation in the back of your neck.

Half a second later, as if stepping on air in the sky, you plummet.

Blade was more irritable than ever. This time, the target of the mission made a provocation, leaving some traces, deliberately mocking them. He then "solved" them, a little rougher than usual. The problem is, for the next three days, he was just as "rough". He even declined Silver Wolf's invitation to play a racing game together. Silver Wolf remained expressionless, indicating that she didn't care, but the atmosphere became a little depressed.

"Bladie, did you know? Elio said you're getting a pet this month."

"I don't need a pet." No doubt, that's stupid.

Kafka's eyes narrow, and smiles. She said in a certain, seductive tone. "Are you sure? Imagine getting that little kiss after a mission…kneeling down to relieve you…"

"No," he snapped, getting up and walking into the darkness.

"Currently scanning for physical condition-"

"Number E92730012 is in good condition. Everything is fine."

"Suggestion: Transform the nipples into a breast-feeding state, and add drugs to enhance sensitivity."

You are in a coma, two robotic arms grab your hand and stretch out, and two needles are aimed at your nipples on both sides to inject medicine. Some subtle changes are transforming your boobs.

"Hmm…" Your head shook slightly, but your eyelids were so heavy that you couldn't open them, and you could only bear the sensitivity and a little pain on your chest. The machine continued to inject the medicine without mercy, and gradually, some white milk flowed out from the flower buds, dripping on the ground, exuding a sweet smell.

Not this… and not this.

None of them fit.

If the other Stellaron Hunters saw Blade now, they'd think he was nostalgic about something and wouldn't bother. No one knew he was looking at the official website of Space Pet House. He has searched with keywords, but the results are still not what he wants.

He decided to go to the store in person.

It's been three days, maybe… five days?

You can't believe that you've been captured and sold as a pet. The store was decorated like some kind of spider web, some kind of hideous lair. Placed across from you are about thirty transparent cages of various species, including six humans. Some people try to resist like you, slapping the cage and cursing at the clerk, only to get some accusing looks from them, like they are really looking at a naughty pet. Some had given up and stayed quietly in the cage, looking at the guests curiously.

Your neck is covered with a black lace choker and a heart bell. Clean water, food and toys are placed in the cage. You can't believe it and don't want to play with those toys for cats.

When those guests visit, they always whisper which pet is better and more suitable. Among all the customers, you are impressed by a certain man. His dark blue fringe draped over his forehead, and his waist was covered with long hair. His hair dangles along with certain bandages as he walks around the store. He's… charming, in every sense of the word, but creepy, with those red eyes that wander from cage to cage and finally stare at the cage you're in. This situation lasts for tens of minutes, scanning your information and prices.

You don't know if he wants to buy you, because when the clerk asks if he needs to go further and allow him to play with you for a while, he just walks away.

"It's been seven days… still no one wants to buy this pet. Why…"

"Maybe we can help."

"No…don't! Please! Please, I'll be good!"

You plead as you struggle. The clerk still pulls down your sheer clothes, exposing your breasts and locking your hands above your head. The tears in your eyes are swirling, whimpering, thick milk flowing down the swollen breasts.

The door bell rang and two guests came in. They looked around the store. When they caught a glimpse of you, their eyes visibly lit up and they walked in your direction.

"Today's special offer, milk production anytime...?" One of the guests read out the information under your cage in a low voice - that's the first time you know what's written there. The way they look at your naked breasts seems to be on fire in you. "sounds good."

"Didn't know you were interested in that." Another guest snickered.

"Such a beautiful little thing can change my mind. I hope this time the pet will not be destroyed so quickly…"

You shudder at the implications of his words - this is a lunatic who isn't taking care of pets. what should you do? What if you were bought by this person? You may be facing a more dire situation than you are now…

There is a raging and dangerous atmosphere wandering in the store. You see that familiar face from behind the two customers. He stood behind them, but didn't seem to see them at all. He feels his crotch tighten when he notices your breasts dripping with milk.

He licks away any sweet milk that pervades your swollen buds, sweet, rich, and creamy. His hand is rubbing your other breast and pinching your nipple. It doesn't take much force, the milk is already squirting. Your bewildered moan turns into a scream as your lower body bounces, the fluid squirting against his cock.

In the orgasm, you stick out your tongue, address him unconsciously, and touch his palm. It's cold.

"Blade." He said his name.

“…?”

You touch his chest, where the heart is beating and echoing. A warm feeling sinks in.

#blade x female redaer #blade x reader #yandere honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #yandere blade x reader

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slipperzipper · 11 months ago

Text

Rescue (Heimdall x Reader)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| angst turned to comfort/fluff? Reader saving Heimdall from his canon ending, established relationship, Could be seen as romantic or platonic, Let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 4.1k!

| Disclaimer!: Descriptions of Injuries and Blood (burns, missing limbs, etc), minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start

You wouldn’t have expected to be here, but yet here you were.

Kratos and Freya venturing to Vanaheim to retrieve her brother was the goal, as long as stopping Heimdall from potentially killing Atreus. Gjallarhorn was the only thing needed from the Aesir. You thought you could come and help in case anything else had gone wrong.

But when Kratos turned back from his promise and started strangling the weakened god, you followed them just in time to hear Mimir shout out pleas for the god killer to stop and think. Fortunately you barrelled straight into Kratos, sending him tumbling before turning around and traversing to the side where his arm was missing.

You fell on your knees. Wrapping an arm behind his shoulders, forcing him to sit up, while you grabbed his free hand and grasped it as a sense of comfort in his near death state. His blood started to stain your clothing but that did not bother you right now, right now the only concern you had was Heimdall.

You didn’t fail to notice how Heimdall’s left hand came to his throat, as if to feel how bruised and put a barrier between him and anyone else that might try to strangle him. His harsh breathing could be heard through short wheezes and gasps.

You could see Kratos grabbing Mimir’s head before standing tall. You heard Mimir quip about how if you weren’t here it would’ve been a lot worse, you couldn’t help but agree.

You rip a spare sheet of cloth off of your own outfit, using it to clear the blood of the golden god’s face, now his eyes didn’t seem as pink as they were. His face wasn’t perfectly cleaned but it would have to do.

“Do you plan to come with us to retrieve Freyr and his camp?” Kratos’ voice rumbled out from his chest.

“Do you mind if we do?” You reply with a much quieter tone, only for him to ‘Hm’ out before he stepped away. Only to wait for you when he finished busting a wall of various spears and long logs of wood.

You redirected your attention to Heimdall, he was staring up at you. “Are.. are you really going to make.. me go with you?” His voice was slowly gaining back its usual tone and sound, but not as quickly as you liked.

“We’re going to make things better. Better for the both of us, and if we don’t start now..” You trailed off, trying to think of the right thing to say but everything you thought would result in him being less than pleased with you, but you had to do the right thing.

“Heimdall, your father has made everything miserable for everyone. He makes you miserable. The sooner you realize that, the quicker we can make our lives better. We can make Asgard better” Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you looked at all his features.

His eyes were definitely the first thing people would notice about him, if not his intricately done hair, and how messy it was from normal. His hand was gripped towards yours like it was his lifeline and you couldn’t help but feel how textured his hands were. Not as rough as a warrior’s usually was around the nine realms but detailed enough to know the difference.

You soon tore a strip of fabric off yourself and wrapped his stub, to prevent any more blood loss. It wouldn’t do much but for now it’s all you could do. All he did was stare, stare at you with beautiful magenta eyes. After ‘fixing’ up his arm, you could only stare back.

Heimdall was slow to respond but he eventually replied in a way you didn’t expect.

“You should’ve let me die.”

It took you moments until Kratos grunted again to let you know it was time to go. You sighed before getting and pulling Heimdall up with you.

He stumbled when he stood up but with little stability in his legs, he decided to tough it out. You wanted to argue that it wouldn’t do him any good, but he only insisted.

You held his shoulders with an arm as the two of you ventured forward, only being a few short feet behind. The natural flora and forestry did not help distract from both Heimdall’s injuries and the burning building that only burned brighter the more time passed.

Once you found Kratos standing near a ledge, you parted from Heimdall for a short moment to see what the god of war saw. You saw Atreus, the sweet young boy you’ve grown to know through various interactions, letting Hildisvini lead the way as Freya helped Freyr escape.

It reminded you of Heimdall’s condition, but you couldn’t help when Atreus waved at you, you waved back.

“Hey, a little help?” The young god proclaimed before following after the three more experienced warriors alongside him. “At least the rescues going well” Mimir’s accent was heard, following that up was Kratos’s grunt.

You looked back to Heimdall and fortunately he was still standing and he was right behind you. Grabbing his shoulders again as you followed Kratos more under flora and alternate paths that ultimately lead to the same place. You heard the voices of the rescue team explain how Freyr was hurt in the wreckage, you heard Heimdall wheeze a little bit at it. The two of you continued to venture

You noticed how much strength he was losing by the second. His steps were getting slower and slower and you knew if he were to continue like this then he wouldn’t get anywhere.

“Heimdall, you and I know you can’t continue like this.” You speak out, stopping Heimdall in his tracks by walking in front of him and planting your hands on his shoulders. Making him look at you.

“I can continue- now let me.” The golden god spoke before trying to step to the side of you. You didn’t let that happen, instead you forced him to piggyback on you. Getting comfortable while grumbling quietly, Heimdall sat his chin on your head and locked his arm around your neck for security.

You started walking with the newfound weight on your back. Venturing further, You heard Heimdall small moans of hurt every few times you stepped. Eventually you heard the god of war shout ‘TO ME! FOLLOW!’ and the constant quips of the Vanir God or “Sizzles” as Heimdall liked to call him.

You immediately picked up your pace and started running towards them. You demanded that Heimdall hang tight as you started to move your legs faster and quicker to try and reach them. You can hear the sounds of the wild Gulons chasing after them, You were only a few feet above them, you could easily hop off the terrain but the wild dogs were in the way.

You noticed that Kratos was swinging his axe with one hand and holding Freyr with the other. Once Kratos slashed the last Gulon you’ll hop down.

“Oh, hey up there!” Atreus called out your name, effectively letting everyone know that you were ,in fact, here and carrying the injured Aesir god on your back.

“What are you doing with Heimdall?” Freya shouted as she shot an Einherjar in between its eyes, effectively putting down the reanimated corpse. You explained that Kratos spared him and that he was coming back with them. Only to hear a groan from Freyr.

The wild dogs were eventually cleared out of the way and you jumped off the ledge, almost breaking your ankles in the process but that would be a problem for later. You joined the group and were right behind Kratos.

“Well looky here! The famous Heimdall on the back of a ‘commoner’, who would’ve thought?” Freyr jokes after he glanced up at both you and the mentioned god.

“I would not be talking if I were you, sizzles”

“You just won't shut up about that, huh? Bring it up one more time, I swear I'll-"

“You'll what? Last time I checked you're just as injured as me, so what are you realistically going to do?” Heimdall had let out a little bark of laughter.

“Can you two quit talking?” Freya asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. You couldn’t help but agree. Atreus then pointed out the Archer Towers in which the boy’s father quickly disposed of them. Heimdall did a small eye roll at how quickly the action was taken.

Atreus eventually ran ahead of his father to take out the further Einherjar.

“Hi! I’m Atreus, are you okay?” As the two weaved in between each other, Frey responded with a ‘Hi! No!’

“Hi Heimdall!” Atreus greeted as he struck a couple of Odin’s army with arrows. Heimdall couldn’t help but mutter under his breath and reply with a dry ‘Hello’ after you weakly elbowed him.

“How much farther do we have?” You shouted before readjusting your hold on Heimdall’s legs, soon stomping on the head of an Einherjar and heard a sickening crunch. You heard Heimdall give a curt pat as a small ‘good’

“That’s what I’m asking!” Freyr quipped with a small laugh. You saw Kratos slam his body and crushed a wild Gulon into a tree and effectively murdered it. The blood stained the tree but there was no time to look further at it as you saw Hildisvini ahead.

Freya as her hawk form came flying by as vines wrapped around the surrounding trees. The dark elf known as Beyla came zipping past you and Kratos, her husband was nowhere to be found.

“Watch your right!” Heimdall yelled in your ear as he directed his body mass to the left. He was trying to help you redirect yourself out of harm's way. You merely dodged the incoming tree thanks to the partner on your back.

“Just a bit farther!” Freyr gleefully announced with a raised fist. He seemed the only one to be happy right now.

“Finally, we’re almost there.” Heimdall spoke only to you since you were the only one to hear him. You couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Hang on just a little longer-” You say but unfortunately luck was not on your side. The extra trees Freya managed to knock down blocked your way, the first tree that slammed down in front of you was twice your size with just the width alone.

“Father!” Atreus then called out your name, catching the attention of the aforementioned god. Panic started to bubble up, your eyes frantically searching for another possible exit. The only way out seemed to run through the wild woods.

“Go on without me! I’ll find another way!” You informed them with a raspy voice. The air pumping through your lungs made your throat dry, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting out of this damn place alive.

You turned your body so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash. Sprinting through the trees as angry Einherjar follow so closely, their loud yells of speech and the arrows whipping past you and hitting into trees

The trees were blending together, the wildlife seemed the same. The once (somewhat) familiar area was now unknown as you ran in an unpredictable pattern. Your feet crushed anything that dared to be under it. Whether it be snapped twigs, tiny animals that you failed to avoid, or failed arrows that tried to impale you.

One of the arrows managed to scathe your leg. Causing a gash to start bleeding as soon as it made contact with your skin. Another arrow made a nice slice into your other leg as well, nearly giving them matching marks. Now your legs were burning even worse from all the running and now the incoming scars.

“Keep going! There’s a river up ahead!” Heimdall ordered in your ear. His legs wrapped tighter around your waist while you readjusted your grip on his legs. Getting him up higher so that your legs had more room to move.

As you tried to hurry yourself forward like what Heimdall instructed, you felt a blast of Bifrost explode near your feet. You panicked and quickly swerved, fumbling your feet before you corrected yourself. Only to be shot at again and again. This time it was at your back and arm.

You cursed to yourself while you tried to move unpredictably. The Bifrost blasts that had missed and hit the surrounding environment were actually proved in your favor when they slowed down the Einherjar with fallen trees and plants uprooting and causing a tripping hazard.

At the end of the tree line you saw it, the river. You would have to jump the rushing, turgid currents and then you have to continue running until you found a safe haven or somewhere the undead army couldn’t get you and Heimdall.

“Watch out-!”

The previous plan was thrown out when at the river’s bank, your leg was suddenly in the blast of Bifrost, causing it to shake in an untrained way and make you fall forward. Falling into the water and not too long after you and Heimdall were trying to swim, Your arms climbed upward in the water before breaking through it and gasping for sweet, sweet air.

You soon found Heimdall gasping like you. Although with less buoyancy due to a missing body part. You managed to grab hold of him as the rushing river took you down faster than you realized.

What made the situation worse, was that there was a dip in the water. It was a damn waterfall. As soon as you felt your body slip down you started to scream, your grip tightening on Heimdall as you fell to your inevitable death.

__________________________

The first thing you felt was sand.

Sand?

You flexed your fingers along the sand, soon pushing your head up to see that you had washed up on a shore. The river was just at the edge of your feet, and your clothes were soaked beyond drying soon. You also happened to notice that the leg closest to the bifrost blast that caused this predicament was almost entirely exposed and very much damaged, you internally groaned at having to deal with this.

You picked yourself up with a slight wobble in your legs, your legs felt like bloody, poorly, bundled twigs as you took your first steps. You felt alarmed as Heimdall was nowhere to be seen. You started calling out his name before deciding to look around.

Based on the setting, you were still in Vanaheim and luckily weren’t kidnapped and/or murdered by the Einherjar. You were just fortunate that you didn’t drown in the initial waters. As you ventured, you soon heard a groan.

You soon hustled to see who it was, avoiding some of the random items that float onto shore. Weapons, shields, parts of barrels, and body parts. Carefully avoiding the dismembered parts and debris, you managed to get to your person.

Heimdall face down into the sand just like you were and a small blood pool under his ‘arm’. Hustling over to him you help him up.

“Do you happen to know where we are?” Heimdall asked with a cough, previously covering his mouth.

“I have no clue, I was hoping you had an idea.” You admit. You slipped your hand around his and gripped. You felt a grip back, and it gave you a little smile on your face.

“But first, I think we need to stop your bleeding.” You mentioned, you can see a small scowl on Heimdall’s face before continuing to follow you.

“I can heal it with Bifrost. Don’t insist on collecting miniscule plants to help me.”

“Then how come it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet?” You ask curiously, you didn’t want to sound sarcastic but some of that unwanted tone slipped out.

“Because it requires my full attention and concentration.” You released an audible ‘oh’ at the very simple explanation, Heimdall only rolled his eyes in what you hoped was a playful way.

“How come your bleeding hasn’t?” Heimdall sarcastically countered. You had almost forgotten about it, if it weren’t for the pain every time you stepped.

“I don’t have any bifrost powers like you do, nor do I have anything on hand to heal myself.” Heimdall was uncharacteristically quiet after that.

You sighed before trying to think of something. How were you possibly going to reach Freyr’s camp?

It was at least multiple days of walking, and that was without break. Maybe there was a sign of Freyr’s camp somewhere? Some old structures to help you have an idea of where you were.

Freyr’s camp was in the direction the sun set. The sun was already setting and traveling at night was not the best idea. So the best idea was to set up your own, albeit small, camp. First thing you did was gather stones, placing them in a circular pattern.

You had set the stones on a dry, grassy patch just shy of the beach. It would be better instead of sitting on the grainy sand.

Then you ventured towards the nearby woods, Heimdall didn’t seem to mind as he observed more of his surroundings, copying what you did previously.

The woods were packed. Thick trees every couple feet apart from each other, the wild flora captivating your eyes while you collected specific plants and organisms for your injuries and small pieces of wood for a fire. Although one flower caught your eye.

A bright purple one with glowing spores. It was much like the bright red ones you have seen exploring Vanaheim but this was so clearly different. It called out to you. You figured it could be a decent gift for Heimdall to maybe brighten his mood.

Pulling your knife out, you quickly snipped the flower’s stem. You had dropped the bundle of wood in your arms just for it, and having no other place to put it, you slid it comfortably behind your ear before returning to the camp.

“There you are, I was starting to worry you got eaten by something.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the assumption, it was possibly one of the more funnier things Heimdall has said to you.

“I wouldn’t die that easily, or at least I hope so.” Your hands worked in order to prepare the fire. You searched yourself for anything to make starting a fire easier, but with no luck, you decided to start hand drilling.

It took a while and your hands were sore but there was fire going and you and Heimdall were warm.

“What is that behind your ear?” Heimdall’s voice curiously asked. The question reminded you of the original intent. Sitting somewhat next to each other, you sat while you nervously prepared yourself.

“Oh!” You removed the flower before gesturing for him to take it. “It’s for you, it reminded me of you anyway so I thought-” You stammered your way through the conversation, flirting with the infamous golden god was extremely harder than you thought.

Instead of flat out rejecting you like you kind of expected, he gently took it from you. He quietly observed the pretty petals you gazed upon earlier. The pistil still glowed brightly as it did before. You were still glad the flower looked as pretty as it did earlier.

Heimdall slowly rolled the stem in between his fingers, looking at the pretty plant plainly with what seemed to be little care.

“So you thought to give me a mutated flower?” He inquired, and your heart had immediately dropped. Of course he wouldn’t like the flower, of course he’d think it was a weak attempt to flirt with him. Of course-

“It’s a beautiful gift, thank you.” His tone was tender and it made your tender heart stutter. Soon silence comfortably blanketed over the two of you. The environment provides a comfortable background echo throughout the spot from the crackling fire to the sound of calm waters.

You couldn’t help but stare at Heimdall’s once-arm, (the god had his eyes closed so he could probably still read your thoughts but you hadn’t remembered that) the mostly reddened stump with only the top of his tricep and upwards remaining.

You wanted to so desperately help the healing process. You also noticed the long cut on his cheek, he was just a mess in general.

His hair was also not in his preferred style, some strands coming loose while some braids remained surprisingly. His hair was still beautiful, and the flower behind his ear accentuated that fact. You can’t just linger around while Heimdall had to slowly recover. It didn’t feel right.

“Heimdall, please, let me help you.”

Heimdall had broken his concentration to look at you, he was silent until he shook his head. “I told you that you do not need to help, I can heal it on my own-”

“But wouldn’t it heal faster if I added a remedy or two in it?” Quickly interrupting the god, Heimdall sighed

“It would but it wouldn’t be necessary, and no, just because you have the means doesn’t mean you can”

“Heimdall, let me help please, it's only fair after you saved me from getting crushed and blown up by Bifrost!”

Heimdall could only rub his eyes with his hand before replying a meager ‘Fine’, You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself to find something that could resemble a bowl. It didn’t take long before you found something.

An Einherjar helmet, the eye holes were fortunately before the helmet formed instead of just being holes in the strong metal. You washed it in the shore’s bank thoroughly before returning to Heimdall.

Sitting cross-legged, you start mixing flora such as Lamb’s Cress and Red root. Mixing it with two of your fingers so that you could carefully apply it, you wouldn’t want to miss a spot. So the helmet glowed on the inside, a bright yellow one to be exact.

“I’m going to lift your sleeve, you ready?” With a quick nod, you lifted his posh sleeve and quickly got to work. Slathering the medicine on the trauma, you could hear Heimdall hissing and groaning and trying not to move in place, you definitely knew how awful it was.

It was over before both of you knew it. You slipped his sleeve back down and set the Einherjar helmet down, “Now you can concentrate on using Bifrost.” You smile before moving yourself further so you could have room.

Heimdall only rolled his eyes and reciprocated the smile.

You soon pulled your pant legs high up to tend to your wounds. Heimdall was quietly watching as you analyzed your injuries.

The first thing you noticed was the Bifrost burn on your mid calf and downwards. The flesh there was stingy and hurt to touch or even look at. It spanned out in sharp points and then round points, it still bled every time you flexed your leg as well. The cuts you had gotten from the arrows were deep, they tore the skin there with ease.

Maybe you could borrow some of the Aesir arrows sometime, they were mighty harmful. The gashes were still relatively okay, you wouldn’t be getting an infection anytime soon.

You released an annoyed sigh as you prepared the ingredients to help mend the burn. Adding more of Lamb’s Cress and Red root to the concoction. “I could hold the helmet for you if it would make this,” He nonchalantly gestured to your burn ”easier.”

You thanked him by handing him said helmet. The golden god merely held it as you worked your ‘magic’. Gracefully dumping some of the product on your wounds, wanting to jump away from it while you applied it with either a hiss or curse.

As soon as you were done with the helmet, you threw it far. Or at least as far as you could from your position. Finally, you could rest without worrying about anything right now. Worrying was for tomorrow. Laying down on your back you started to relax.

The sun had set and night could be fully seen. The stars above twinkled like they never have before, maybe you should come to Vanaheim more often. The fire crackled every few seconds just to add onto the effect and you loved it, despite the situation you could still see the beauty in it.

The sound of shuffling and you found that a new weight was on your right. The watchman of the Aesir had lain beside you. You could feel his fingers ghosting yours as if he wanted to hold your hand. You decided to take the initiative and interlock fingers with him.

“Any particular reason why you decided to lay with me?” You ask, tilting your head to look at Heimdall. The Aesir man only turned to you, stared you in the eyes, then turned his back to staring upwards.

“I like your company, that is all.”

The response made your heart grow warmer, so you weren’t all too bad in his eyes. (Ignoring the fact you saved his life of course) You whispered a goodnight to him before shutting your eyes, you hadn’t realized how heavy they felt until you’ve closed.

The last thing you remember was Heimdall gently squeezing your hand before you drifted asleep.

#heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #x reader #gender neutral reader #heimdall #god of war #god of war ragnarok #gow heimdall #atreus #gow ragnarok #injuries #cw blood #cw violence

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

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Lay all your love on me | DR3 (patreon exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader ― Warning: graphic description of unprotected sex, p in v, thigh riding, kind of public sex (boat sex), mentions of a wedding, food, and drink. Minors DNI! (2.1k words) ― Summary: When Daniel asked you to marry him you knew your wedding would be perfect, you just didn’t expect your fiancée to rent a whole island a week before the wedding to enjoy the off days with you until you finally tied the knot. Safe to say you made good use of all the private land and boat rides.

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“Where are you going?”

“Just for a dip,” you breathe, craning your neck to kiss his stubbled jaw.

“You’re not dressed for a swim, love,” Daniel murmurs against your skin, trapping your earlobe between his teeth and sucking lightly.

You press yourself harder against him, enjoying the feeling of his body against yours, his warmth even more intense under the scalding sun. “Who said one has to be dressed for a swim?” you question, and he turns his mouth to your shoulders, kissing away the straps of your nightgown. “You rented the whole beach, the whole Island,” you add. “So I’m enjoying its perks.”

“Are you?”

You nod, turning to him and smashing your lips into a hungry kiss. One of his hands holds your neck while the other keeps your body pressed to his, but not for long because the second your lips detach you’re taking a step back and pushing your clothes off. It’s hot, even though the wind is rustling, but your body shivers under the exposure from his eyes and the breeze. Your nipples turn to two pointer pebbles attracting your fiancé’s hungry gaze, and you giggle again, loving the comfort of feeling loved and desired under his gaze. There was no shame in showing the dips and curves of your body to him. A body he had worshiped just hours before in the privacy of your suite.

“Why would you tease me like that?”

“Because I can,” you smirk, turning and running to the water, shrinking when the cold waves hit your body.

*********

“The sunscreen,” you try, but Daniel shakes his head, throwing the bottle somewhere into the boat.

“Later,” he hums, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

When his fingers swiftly find the strings of your bikini, undoing the knot and setting your boobs free, you can’t help but grind harder against his shaft. Daniel moves your body in a way that you’re on top of his tattooed thigh and you quickly take off your bikini bottoms, bunching up his white shorts and whimpering the second he flexes his legs and it hits you right in the clit.

He sits, bringing your body impossibly closer and you lace your arms around his broad shoulders, trying to gain leverage in your movements. Daniel uses his mouth to lick, bite, kiss, and nip your skin. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find your nipples and you sink your nails into his back, throwing your head and letting out a string of profanities.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this sneak peek! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon here on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

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#dr3 #millie writes smut #op: patreon preview #op: patreon exclusive #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 fandom #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one fanfic #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you

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averysmolbear · 2 years ago

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Caught in the Act

Pairing: Reiner Braun x f!reader

Word count: ~ 5.2k

CW: Minors do not interact, smut, f!reader, modern AU, slightly self ship coded (but not in a noticible way, I hope!) basic pet names used (princess, babe, etc), established relationship, light teasing, male masturbation (briefly), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, not proofread, and if I'm missing any tags, please let me know so I can add them!

A/N: It's been awhile since I've tried writing smut so this is the first time in awhile and I'm still rusty so it's not nearly as descriptive as I could be but hopefully that'll come back to me as I attempt to write more little bits like this. This wasn't proofread so it'll probably have some mistakes that I'll maybe edit later.

Summary: You and Reiner have the day off but as you have plans earlier in the day, you decide to text your boyfriend a teasing photo while you're out. When you return home, you catch Reiner in the middle of pleasuring himself, which leads to you facing the consequences of sending the photo to him in the first place.

Reiner hated that he wasn’t going to get to see you nearly as much as he wanted today. The two of you had the next two days off but you had appointments scheduled and you planned on going to lunch with your best friend. All of which meant that he was going to have to find things to do while you were out. You had already written out the grocery list and as much as the blond man didn’t want to go shopping on his own, he knew it would be something he could do so he didn’t spend all day at home pouting because he couldn’t cuddle with you on the couch.

As usual, Reiner woke before you and as much as he wanted to wake you up with kisses, he knew where that would lead and you had already warned him last night that he would have to keep his hands to himself as much as possible until you got home again. So he settled for gently brushing some hair out of your face before softly saying your name.

You woke up, blinking slowly as your eyes adjusted to the dim light in your bedroom. You smiled lazily at your boyfriend and leaned in to steal a soft kiss, laughing when Reiner grunted when you pulled back. You rolled out of bed, feeling Reiner’s honey colored eyes watching your every move. You glanced over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow and watched as he climbed out of bed as well.

“I’ll go make us breakfast,” you said by the time you were halfway out the door.

Reiner watched you walk out of the room with a sigh before getting out of bed as well. He dug out some clothes from the closet to pull on, not worrying too much about what he was going to wear. By the time he joined you in the kitchen, you were already cooking pancakes for the two of you. He huffed softly as he sat down at the table to watch you. What he really wanted to be doing was standing behind you with his arms around your waist but he didn’t want to incur your wrath either so he was trying harder than usual to behave himself.

You laughed as you glanced back to see him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hand, pouting. You shook your head at Reiner’s dramatics but didn’t beckon him over like you usually would. If he was going to try to keep his hands to himself, you weren’t going to try to tempt him. You didn’t have much time this morning before you knew you had to leave for a handful of routine doctor’s appointments. Today was the first day you had enough free time to schedule the appointments. Had you known in advance that Reiner was going to have the day off today too, you would have put off the appointments a little longer so you could have today and tomorrow all to yourselves.

You set a plate down in front of Reiner before sitting down by him. Your foot absently started to brush along his calf and he nearly choked on some of his breakfast when he felt it. The only reason you stopped was because you could see the way his face started to flush and how his chest was starting to rise and fall erratically.

You both chatted a little, with you reminding him that you should be home around 3 that afternoon and then you would be all his. It was a lot of time for your boyfriend to try to fill so he wouldn’t think of you too much but Reiner thought he could do it. When you got up from the table to get ready to clear it, he jumped up to do it first, shaking his head as he took the plates from your hands.

“Go get ready, babe. I’ve got this,” he said before leaning down to kiss you, the plates balanced in one hand. Unlike when you kissed him earlier, Reiner was slower to pull away from your soft, plump lips. When he did, he grinned to himself at the slightly dazed look on your face. “I’ll see you around 3.”

You headed for your bedroom, laying out your outfit for the day on the bed, before you shuffled off to take a shower. Reiner heard the water running and groaned to himself as he finished loading the dishwasher. The temptation to try to join you in the shower was almost too much for him to take. He headed down the hallway, stopping at the bathroom door and taking a deep breath. He had to steel his nerves before opening the door because he didn’t think he would have the willpower to stop himself from joining you otherwise.

“Y/N?” Reiner called out softly, poking his head in the door. If he stepped into the steamy room, he knew he would lose all resolve so he lingered at the door. “I’m gonna head out to go grocery shopping. If you think of anything that you need or want that’s not on the list, just text me.”

“Okay,” you said, not even bothering to look over toward the door. You knew what would happen if you did and you were still trying not to tempt the blond man. “Everything should be on the list though.”

“Mhm,” was Reiner’s absent-minded reply as he stared at the glass shower doors, just able to make out your form as he watched you. He suddenly shook his head when he realized what he was doing, clearing his throat. “I’ll see you around 3. I love you.”

You turned off the shower just as Reiner spoke but you didn’t move to exit the shower just yet. “I love you too, Rei.”

He quickly shut the door, feeling his pulse already starting to quicken the moment the water turned off. Reiner closed his eyes as he leaned his back on the door, trying to get his mind off of the thought of you naked on the other side of the door. He knew he could resist but part of him really didn’t want to wait until later today to ravage you. When he heard the blow dryer going, Reiner took another deep breath and pushed off of the door to put on his shoes.

It wasn’t long before he left, not wanting to linger too much longer. If he focused on the errands that he had to run, he would make it through the day. At least that was his hope. He knew he could probably even run to the gym to work off some of the sexual tension that he was feeling this morning. Anything to keep his mind off of you.

You hadn’t heard Reiner leave but you slipped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around yourself nonetheless. The house was quiet so you knew he had probably left. When you got to the bedroom, an idea started to form in your head. You wanted to give Reiner something to look forward to so you made sure you put on his favorite bra and panties set. It was one that he had picked out for you when you had been out shopping together and any time that you wore it, Reiner couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Once you had it on, you moved to the full length mirror on your closet door, snapping a picture of yourself. You smiled a little at the photo after taking it and decided to wait to send it to Reiner later. You checked the time and knew you had to rush to get ready but you were out the door just in time to hopefully make it to your first doctor’s appointment on time.

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

You had finished most of your doctor’s appointments and were now waiting in line at the pharmacy to pick up your prescriptions and some vitamins and supplements when your friend texted you about lunch. You texted her back that you would meet her in 20 minutes. Since your phone was still open, you smirked to yourself as you quickly sent Reiner the picture you had taken earlier with a ‘can’t wait to see you at 3’ added for good measure. You already knew what Reiner’s reaction would be when he saw the photo so you knew you would be in for it when you got home but that was the whole point.

Once you got everything and paid, you headed out to your car. Your phone went off and you checked it once you were in the car only to find what amounted to a keyboard smash from Reiner. It was quickly followed by a text calling you a little minx, telling you he was going to make sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. With a smirk, you texted back to tell him that was your hope before tucking your phone away so you could drive.

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

Reiner knew he was going to need to work off the sexual frustration he was starting to feel after your text. He had gotten it while he was eating lunch at a small cafe. He had already shopped and put all of the groceries away at home, busying himself as best as he could. He had even gotten a bouquet of flowers to put on the kitchen table to surprise you. Since he didn’t want to be stuck at home, he had decided to go grab some lunch and to make a stop at a shop that he knew you liked where they sold handmade chocolates.

He had barely started to eat his lunch when the text arrived and immediately Reiner was shifting in his chair, trying to readjust himself. Your response hadn’t done anything to calm him down either. Reiner closed his eyes and softly groaned, trying to think of anything other than that photo you had sent him. That was when he decided the gym would be his next stop instead. His gym bag was still in the trunk of the car so he wouldn’t have to stop at home for anything.

He put his phone in his pocket to stop himself from looking at it again before he focused on the food in front of him. It was taking more of his willpower than he thought to keep his mind off of you though. But he knew he could do it. Because he knew when you got home, he was going to bend you over the arm of the couch if he had to so he could remind you how much he missed you.

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

You had been surprised that Reiner hadn’t tried calling or texting you again but you made it through lunch without hearing from him. Your last appointment, the one with your therapist, was canceled due to your therapist having a family emergency so you headed straight home, hoping to surprise your boyfriend. You parked and headed for the door with a little bounce in your step, excited to see Reiner again after spending most of the day away from him.

When you opened the door, you heard the soft sounds of Reiner moaning and whimpering from the living room. You bit your bottom lip softly, feeling your breath catch for a moment before you slipped off your shoes. You quietly set your keys on the table by the door and left your purse by the door. You didn’t want to disturb Reiner after all as you started toward the living room. The sounds only got louder as you got closer and you could already feel your excitement growing.

You stopped in the doorway, softly gasping at the sight before you. Reiner was sitting on the couch, his t-shirt pulled up to expose his abs and a bit of his chest. He had his sweatpants pulled down just enough to free his cock, which he was furiously pumping with one hand while holding his phone in the other. You didn’t have to get any closer to know what it was that he had his eyes fixed on as he fucked his fist.

You could feel your body heating up, the throbbing between your legs starting to grow. If you kept silently watching Reiner, you knew that feeling would become unbearable but you also knew that he wouldn’t leave you unsatisfied once he became aware of your presence. The waiting would make it sweeter or that was what you kept telling yourself as you felt your legs shake just from hearing Reiner whimpering your name as his hand pumped faster and faster.

The phone fell from his hand as his head fell back, eyes closing as his hips bucked up to meet his own thrusts. His chest rose and fell frantically as he started to cum, the sticky stream coating his stomach as he continued to work himself through his orgasm. It was clear that he was trying to coax out every last drop as he grunted and groaned, your name obscenely slipping out from his slightly parted lips as Reiner started to pant softly.

“Fuck, baby,” you murmured but you clearly spoke louder than you had meant because you saw Reiner’s eyes open to fix his soft gaze on your face. Without realizing what you were doing, you had started to walk toward him, watching as his face flushed.

Reiner’s blush spread all the way to his ears as his face heated up with embarrassment. He started to quickly clean himself up, muttering some sort of apology as if you weren’t supposed to see him doing that just now. He pulled down his shirt and pulled up his pants as you stopped at the edge of the couch.

“You act like I’ve never seen you do that before,” you teased, your eyes slowly looking him over. “I’m usually the one getting all shy while you watch.”

Reiner swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to be home yet.”

You let out a soft laugh as you sat down on the arm of the couch. You saw the way your boyfriend looked you over though, his pupils still blown and a lustful look in his golden colored eyes. Your body trembled a little as he started to shift to stand up, looking up at him with your eyes widened. Before he reached you, you slipped off of the arm of the couch and started to back away from Reiner, giggling softly.

He followed you, moving slowly but deliberately. He was like a predator stalking his prey. He wasn’t in any hurry because he knew it wouldn’t be long before he had you trapped. You weren’t looking at where you were going but Reiner knew that soon your back would be up against the wall. You let out a soft oof as your back hit the wall and Reiner chuckled, quickly closing the gap between the two of you now.

He pressed his large muscular body against yours, licking his lips. He looked like he was about to devour the most delicious meal ever and honestly that wasn’t too far from the truth because he was ready to devour you. His hands moved down the sides of your body slowly until he was able to lace his fingers with yours. He chuckled when you offered no resistance to him, pinning your hands above your head.

Reiner held them there with one large hand wrapped around both of your delicate wrists. He looked down at you with an almost lopsided grin on his face. He used his other arm to lift you easily and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed his hips hard against yours and you let out a gasp as you felt that he was hard again already.

When he captured your lips in a kiss, it was rough and hungry. His tongue didn’t politely ask for entrance into your mouth. Instead he pushed his tongue into your mouth forcefully but you didn’t hesitate to part your lips for him when you realized what Reiner wanted. You moaned against his lips, your hips rolling a little against him but he didn’t stop. He wanted to remind you that you were his with this heated kiss.

Just when you started to feel dizzy, needing to catch your breath, he finally pulled back from your lips. His lips were soon trailing messy kisses along your jaw as he worked his way toward the side of your neck. You tilted your head enough to give Reiner more access to the soft, sensitive skin of your throat and he took full advantage. He soon had you moaning and whimpering his name as his lips and teeth grazed your skin. He made sure to suck on the most sensitive spot at the crook of your neck, leaving a mark behind.

You were panting as he pressed himself against you a little harder, rocking his hips so his clothed cock rubbed against you. You whined softly, his name falling from your lips once more as you struggled slightly in his grasp. There was no getting away from him and he enjoyed the way you tried to squirm with his body pressed up against yours.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” Reiner roughly whispered before his lips brushed against your neck again.

“Please, Reiner,” you whined, begging him for something. It was difficult to say if you were trying to get him to loosen his hold on your wrists or if you wanted more of him although it was likely a combination of the two. You wanted to touch him, to show him how much you wanted him. The best you could do while pinned to the wall was to attempt to grind your hips against his.

He groaned as you moved in just the right way to create a delicious amount of friction between your bodies. It was only a hint of what would come but his hand released its hold of your wrists as he moved to slip that hand under your shirt until he was cupping and massaging your breast. You gasped but one of your arms wrapped around his shoulders as your right hand slipped into his hair.

As your nails lightly scratched his scalp, the movement of Reiner’s hips became a bit more deliberate. Each movement was nearly a thrust of his still covered cock against your still clothed pussy. Your back arched away from the wall as much as you could with your much larger and stronger boyfriend still pressed against you.

Reiner pulled you away from the wall, one arm firmly holding you against him although your legs around his waist helped. He didn’t say a word as he carried you to the bedroom, leaning down so your back was now pressed against the firm mattress of your bed. Immediately his lips were back on your throat even as he started to undress you. You were just as eager, pulling up his t-shirt and whining when you couldn’t get it over his head because his lips were still attached to your skin.

Reiner chuckled softly but he pulled back and let you remove his shirt, taking the opportunity to do the same to you. Both pieces of clothing were haphazardly tossed to the floor and soon after almost all of the clothes you both wore were lying in random spots on the floor. Reiner was completely naked but you were still in that bra and panty set you had put on this morning to tease him. He smirked as he looked down at you, letting his fingers play a little with one of the straps of your bra.

He let his eyes slowly drink in your form as you laid beneath him, a hunger in his eyes that was greater than any you had ever seen there before. He was kneeling on the bed, his knees on either side of your thighs. “Mm, kinda wanna fuck you just like this, love,” Reiner said, almost growling the words as he let his fingers trace the curves of your breasts. Soon his hands were trailing down your body and he chuckled as he watched you shiver and squirm beneath him.

His hands stopped at your hips and it wasn’t long before you were trying to spread your legs a little more for your boyfriend as one of his large hands slipped down between your legs. Every brush of his fingers on bare skin made your whole body tingle but when his hand reached the crotch of the lacy panties you wore, you nearly whined for more. He let two fingers slide in the side of your panties, slowly teasing you as he let his fingers explore a bit.

Reiner smirked at the soft whimpers that fell from your lips as your hips rolled upward slightly. You couldn’t seem to form words while he took control like this, your head too dizzy to focus on anything that wasn’t Reiner’s touch. He tsked softly and shook his head even as the tips of his fingers dipped inside of you, making you gasp.

“You’re so wet already for me already,” he said even as he pushed his fingers deeper, watching your eyes flutter closed. Reiner reached his left hand up, lightly grasping your chin and tugging to tilt your head up slightly. “Uh-uh, princess. Eyes on me.”

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt the pad of Reiner’s thumb brushing and tugging at your bottom lip. You parted your lips and bit down on his thumb before leaning your head up enough to take the very tip of his thumb into your mouth to suck on it softly. If you weren’t so wrapped up in the way Reiner already had you feeling dizzy as his two fingers pumped in and out of your pussy, you might have smirked at him when you heard your boyfriend grunt softly at the feeling of your lips on his thumb.

His long, thick fingers continued to work your core, groaning as he could feel your walls tightening around his fingers. Reiner slowly pulled his thumb from your mouth and reached down to pull the crotch of your panties to the side a little better, allowing him to push his fingers even deeper inside of you. His thumb, still wet with your spit, started to lazily circle your clit, making your back arch gently off of the mattress.

“You look so pretty like this,” he softly said as he quickened his pace, his cock almost aching. But Reiner wasn’t stopping until he made you come undone for him with just his fingers. He could feel how close you were already but he didn’t let up the pace, wanting to give you every bit of pleasure he could. “Fuck, y/n, you feel so good.”

You wanted to respond but anything that wasn’t a moan or Reiner’s name seemed to die on your tongue before you could form a response. Your hands were gripping the sheets beneath you, tugging on them as your hips rolled up to meet the thrust of his fingers. He knew just how to touch you so it wouldn’t be long now but you also knew if Reiner wanted to prolong this, he could. His fingers found that sensitive spot inside of you, hitting it just right with each thrust to make you lose all sense of thought.

“A-almost,” was the only word you could gasp out before your back was gently arching off the mattress again, your lips parted in a soundless moan.

Reiner groaned, his thumb changing the pattern he used to rub your clit. He felt your walls tighten even more around his fingers and his hips actually bucked at the sensation but he never took his eyes off of your face. He could see the blissed out look your features took on as he felt you starting to cum.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed even as you whined softly, your body writhing beneath him. His fingers continued to work to draw out the pleasure you felt. He was almost certain that the sheets would be soaked by the time he was through with you tonight. “Shit, you look so good like this. Just a mess for me.”

You couldn’t keep your eyes open as Reiner continued to finger you through your orgasm, your toes curling as you repeated his name like a prayer. Your hips were rolling to meet each thrust of his fingers and you felt his cock brush against your inner thigh, which nearly caused you to cum all over again.

Reiner slowed his thrusts as he heard you whimpering, easing his fingers out of you with a self-satisfied smile on his lips. He waited until you were looking at him again, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Then he slipped his fingers, wet with your slick, into his mouth. He hummed around his own fingers, licking and sucking every bit of wetness off of them.

“Reiner,” you whined, your hips rolling gently in anticipation. You wanted more. You wanted him inside of you. You wanted all of him but you could tell Reiner was enjoying the tease right now. Still you watched him intently as his fingers slipped out of his mouth and he started to lean toward you.

You reached up and pulled him down toward you, making the blond man chuckle at your eagerness. Still he pressed his lips against yours, taking his time as he kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you parted yours to brush your tongue along his seam of Reiner’s lips. He moaned as his lips parted and you slipped your tongue inside his mouth. Your kiss was hungry and filled with your desire for him and he started to ease the tip of his weeping cock inside of you as you continued to kiss.

Your nails lightly dug into the back of his broad shoulders as you moaned into his mouth. His hips moved to ease more of his throbbing cock inside of you as your right hand slid up until your fingers tangled into his short cropped blond hair. Your hips rolled forward as if to help him enter you completely and Reiner’s hands slid down until he was gripping your hips, holding you still as he paused his movements.

You whined softly as he pulled back from the kiss, trying to wiggle gently against his hold but it was no use. You weren’t going anywhere as Reiner kept his cock sheathed inside of you, both of you breathing heavily. Your eyes rolled back the moment that Reiner’s hips began to move again, pulling back and snapping forward. You tugged at his hair as his pace began to build slowly.

“That’s it, princess,” Reiner cooed, his voice rough with desire. His thrusts were growing rougher with each movement that he made. His eyes were heavy lidded but he didn’t pull his gaze from you, wanting to see every expression as he pounded into your pussy. “Take it. Take all of it.”

It wasn’t long before the only sounds filling the room were the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin with each thrust of Reiner’s hips and the desperate whines and moans coming from each of you. He reached one hand out to grip the headboard while the other held on to your hip to keep you pinned to the mattress. Each of you panted and whispered moans as Reiner’s pace quickened.

“Ahh- ahh- fuck!” he groaned as he felt your walls tightening around his cock. His hips stuttered a little before he recaptured that steady rhythm from moments earlier. “You close, baby? Huh? F-fuck … come for me then.”

Your heels pressed a little into the backs of Reiner’s thighs, causing his thrusts to become shorter but no less rough. If anything, he found that he was able to fuck you harder and faster this way. Your eyes rolled back as your neck arched gently and Reiner took the opportunity to kiss and suck on the soft skin of your throat, trying to leave more marks on your skin so there would be no doubt who you belonged to.

Your orgasm ripped through your body suddenly, like a coil in your belly suddenly snapped, and it seemed to pull your boyfriend right along with you. He was whining softly as he came without warning, filling you with his cum. His thrusts were erratic but they didn’t stop as he rode out his own wave of pleasure. Reiner was panting as he finally slowed to a stop, pulling out of you with a sigh.

Your eyes fluttered open as you fixed your slightly dazed eyes on the man that was leaning over you. He was supporting most of his upper body weight with his arms as he watched you start to come back down from the high of him making you come. You couldn’t feel it yet but in the morning your body was going to be sore and there would be bruises on your hips and anywhere that Reiner had deemed fit to bite down or suck on your skin. Right now you were still running on adrenaline as you smiled lazily back up at Reiner.

He reached out and lightly brushed away some of the hair that had stuck to your sweaty forehead. He heard you hum softly, making him laugh. You were clearly still too blissed out to form words. Once he had caught his breath enough to speak, however, he shifted slightly to lay on his side beside you, pulling your body tight against his own before softly whispering near your ear.

“I’m going to get a bath going for us,” Reiner said as you turned your head toward him. He watched you nod and laughed yet again as you attempted to steal a kiss although your lips connected with the tip of his nose instead. “I’ll strip the bed and get the sheets washed too. Okay?”

You nodded as you felt him carding his fingers gently through your hair. You attempted to get up when Reiner moved and he shook his head at you. Still you stood on shaky legs, causing your boyfriend to swoop in and scoop you into his arms, carrying you bridal style as he headed for the bathroom.

“So stubborn,” he teased and you laughed softly as you rested your head on his shoulder. He carefully set you on your feet near the toilet and you held on to the counter while Reiner started to run the water, checking the temperature before plugging the tub to let it fill with the warm water.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he headed to the door and again you nodded silently.

Once he was out of the room, you stripped down and quickly used the bathroom. You tried to clean yourself up a little but you ended up sitting on the lid of the toilet as you waited for Reiner to return. He smiled softly as he saw you sitting there before he quickly turned off the water. He held out his hand to you and helped you into the tub, moving to sit behind you. You sat between his legs and leaned your back against his chest, letting out a soft sigh.

In the quiet of the bathroom, the two of you let your bodies relax and your tense muscles unwind. Reiner held you, placing soft kisses along your shoulder occasionally. And while the two of you still had the rest of the night to yourselves, this moment was all that you needed.

#tessie writes #reiner braun smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #reiner x y/n #reiner x reader #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x reader #modern au #attack on titan modern au

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juneyjubilation · 6 months ago

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First of all, hello!! I hope you have/ had a great day, I wanted to make a request about Dick Grayson, we all know he's just a ball of sunshine but what about we (As another vigilante who's close to him+ he has a crush on -you can keep the details short or as long as you want-) finding him at his lowest? But like... Really really lowest... In the point where he feels like a disappointment to his parents to bruce himself, to Alfred or basically to everyone who knows him, the point where he thinks he's letting everyone down... The point where he's about to cry and have a panic attack (inside out 2..) and we find him, (let's just say that reader knows him well enough to be able to say somethings are off with him..) try and do everything we can to comfort and console him because... My man really deserves true affection and reminder that he has amazing affect on people around him... (The trigger to his break down could be him, not being able to save a child as he tried to save 5 other people in danger etc. whatever you want, I hope I'm not making any mistakes on writing because English is not my native language and I'd literally sit down and cry if I didn't express myself successfully ;( also could you please make it AFAB?) Thank you so much for everything in advance..

Feel free to ingore this request, but if you won't do it please inform me I won't be hurt 🙏🏻��

hi! thank you so much for the request :) i absolutely did not mind writing this, though i fear i did mistakenly add more trauma to the golden boy - so ummmm... my bad!

and your english was good at conveying your point! i hope i was able to translate this to paper well :)

also i listened to Birds of a Feather on repeat whilst writing this! enjoy!

details: no use of y/n/(reader), dick calls the reader 'Angel', she/her user, this could be seen as platonic, but he is evidently pining in his thoughts.

content warnings: mentions and brief description of child death, flashbacks to parental death, minor character death (of the unnamed child), panic attacks.

- thank you for reading!! continue to under cut to read -

The haunting memory of the child he had failed, the one he couldn't save, grips him in a vice-like chokehold. It's a branding iron seared into his very soul, a constant reminder of his inadequacy—a festering, gnawing wound that threatens to consume him whole. He clutches his throbbing temple, his mind replaying the horrifying moments when the child, caught in the crossfire, fell to their inevitable fate.

For a single moment the image of that little girl in her yellow sweater returned him to the memory he ran from most; the image of his parents and their once striking yellow and green costumes danced in red.

Contorted bones and brain matter tended to have that effect on him.

Each labored, panicked breath he exhales is a testament to the tumultuous turmoil within him. Sweat trickles down his temples, mingling with the darkness of his hair as tears threaten to spill down his cheeks, unchecked by the demons gnawing at his soul.

His body trembles, the sudden vulnerability an unfamiliar and unwelcome companion. His once steady hands now shake as he struggles to compose himself, to regain control of the emotional maelstrom that threatens to consume him.

The cool Gotham breeze offers no solace, the whispering wind carrying the echoes of the child's cries and the deafening silence that followed.

In a tortured whisper, Nightwing tries coaxing calm into his body. "Breathe... in... hold... out..." His words echo faintly in the wind, a desperate attempt to wrestle back control.

Each labored breath becomes a tiny beacon of light, guiding him through the storm of self-doubt and guilt. He imagines the air filling his lungs like a warm, golden light, chasing away the shadows of despair.

One hand reaches up, fingers brushing against the emblem that adorns his chest, a symbol of his past and his future, a reminder of the strength he has wielded time and time again.

The other hand forms a fist, his knuckles turning white, as he clings to the memory of the five children he saved, the lives he changed. His heartbeat slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, as the grounding exercise takes root.

The tenuous grip on his grounding fades like a fading signal, replaced by the raw, unadulterated pain of his failure. He collapses in on himself, sobbing, rage and despair mingling in his anguished cries.

In his mind's eye, the image of the little girl materializes once more, a beacon of hope snuffed out, the same way his own youth was extinguished. The memory of his mother, her laughter and love, dance just beyond his reach. The parallels between the two haunt him, a relentless tormentor.

Tears stream down his cheeks, the salty droplets stinging the wounds of his soul. His shoulders quake under the weight of the burden he bears, the crushing guilt of that lost life threatening to drown him.

In the midst of Nightwing's torment, a shadow falls over him, a gentle presence signaling the arrival of a familiar figure. A figure he has deemed his *Angel*.

She lands gracefully beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery. Yet, for him, she embodies strength, solace, and warmth. Her aura fills the space around him, tickles at his senses in a way that's instantly recognizable, even in the darkness of Gotham's smog.

A gentle hand brushes through his hair, her touch a caress, tender and caring. "There you are," her voice a soothing balm to his raw emotions. He feels her presence, the mere nearness offering a sliver of comfort to his broken spirit.

In the shadows, his solace crouches beside her friend, sensing the turmoil that wracks his body.

Nightwing's initial instinct kicks in, a mixture of surprise and panic as he realizes he's been discovered in his most vulnerable state. The superheroic facade he presents to the world is shattered, exposing the raw, bleeding core of his humanity.

The very thought of burdening her with his failures and shortcomings weighs heavily on him. He's always been the one to save, to lead, to console. The thought of being the one needing rescue is an eerie and unsettling prospect.

Nightwing opens his mouth to protest, to push her away, to defend his honor, but the words stick in his throat. He can't bear to witness the disappointment in her eyes, or the pity that would surely follow.

Instead, he utters the word that's reserved for her alone. "Angel..." The plea is a confession without words, an admission of the depth of his trust in her.

Instead of pulling away, she scoots closer, wrapping her arms around him, a shield against the unyielding darkness that threatens to swallow him whole. Her presence is a beacon of hope, offering a safe haven in the storm that refused to wane.

Angel shakes her head gently, her eyes filled with an understanding that transcends words. Her lips move in a soft, almost imperceptible whisper, weaving a tapestry of comfort through her words.

"Grief, it's a beast, twisting in your gut, aching in places you never thought possible. It's a reminder of the things you can't change, the memories that haunt, the life that slips through the cracks."

Her voice is a lullaby, a rhythmic pattern that guides him through the tempest of emotions. She speaks with the ruggedness of a street-hardened hero and the tenderness of a loving friend.

"But we don't drown in it. We don't let it define us. We let the tears fall, the chest heave, and then we find the strength buried beneath the pain to carry on."

Nightwing listens to her soft words, the wisdom in her voice like a balm to his raw emotions. His thoughts drift back to the time they first met, the war-torn streets of Gotham, a city on the brink of ruin.

He remembers the first time he saw her, the way she moved through the chaos with an almost ethereal grace. She was a beacon of hope in the midst of despair, her emerald eyes sparkling like jewels, piercing the darkness.

In that moment, he knew he would follow her, that she would be his shining star. And so, he called her Angel—not because she resembled the celestial beings but because she represented the light that guided him through life's shadows.

He would never share this with her, this intimate connection that bound them together, a secret that only he held tight to his chest. For in this moment, he realized that Angel's words weren't a fix-all, a panacea to mend all his wounds. They didn't erase the knot in his throat, the heaviness in his heart. But they did something equally profound; they eased the suffocating weight of isolation.

For the first time, he realized he didn't have to face this alone. That he had been surrounded by a network of support, of friends and allies who shared his purpose.

In her arms, he felt anchored, tethered to reality, to the world he fought so tirelessly to protect. A world that was no longer a shadowy, menacing abyss but a place of hope, of potential, of redemption.

And as his sobs subside, leaving behind a silent contemplation, he knows that there will be other battles, other moments of weakness, but he wouldn't face them alone.

In the company of Angel, the moniker 'Nightwing' did not feel like a suffocating mantle that weighed heavily upon Dick's shoulders. Instead, it became a symbol of the partnership they shared, a badge of honor that spoke volumes about their bond.

Angel, with her unwavering support, reminded Dick of the reasons he chose this path in the first place—a desire to protect, to heal, and to stand for justice. Her faith in him, her belief in his abilities, and her unwavering trust in their combined might, breathed new life into the persona he had donned.

Nightwing, the man and the symbol, no longer felt like a burden, but rather the manifestation of his resolve, a testament to his strength, and a beautifully complex reflection of his vulnerabilities. In the presence of Angel, he could be both a hero Gotham needed and the person he needed to be in order to heal from his past.

In the silence that follows, Dick finds himself looking into the eyes of the woman who had become an indispensable part of his life. A man of few words when it came to expressing his gratitude, he finds solace in the simplest of gestures.

He wraps his arm around her, pulling her close, his strong frame enveloping her as he basks in the comfort of her presence. His jaw clenches, the tension a testament to the weight of his emotions. Eventually, he finds the courage to express his gratitude.

"Thank you, Angel." The words are a whisper, sincere and heartfelt. He holds her tighter, as if to etch this moment in his memory, a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving city that they call home.

In that moment, he doesn't need grand speeches or declarations of love, but the simple act of being in her presence. Their bond, forged in the fires of conflict and the camaraderie of friendship, is a testament to the depth of their connection.

He knew he could depend on her, in the darkest hours and brightest victories. She was the calm in the eye of his storm, the beacon of hope that flickered in the shadows.

Together, they stood as guardians of the city, protectors of the innocent, and confidants to one another. Dick Grayson, the young circus performer, and the vigilante known as Nightwing, had found in Angel a companion for life, a partner in crimefighting, and a friend he cherished more than gold.

As they sat on the rooftop, the weight of the world momentarily lifted, Dick knew that he owed her more than he could ever repay. But the debt, he realized, was one he would gladly continue to work off, through every mission, every battle, and every victorious smile they shared. Because in her, he had found not just a comrade but a partner of the heart. And his gratitude, as always, was simple and true: Thank you, Angel.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #minor angst #dc comics x reader #i'm in my dc phase again #juneywrites #no beta we die like jason todd

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abistebirenkaz · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere Kurokawa Izana blurb

Warnings: MINORS/ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DO NOT INTERACT OR I WILL BLOCK YOU! Yandere Izana, captive reader, bad description of food, English is my second language. Please let me know if there is anything I forgot to add.

Feel free to comment. I love love love comments.

Izana loved making you cook regardless of the food. You could cook anything, as bad as you wished. There were a few reasons for this. First, you weren't a bad cook. You were pretty decent compared to other cooks Izana had-the ones at the foster care, the ones in juvie, Kakucho, and rarely himself. Of course he had the money to eat the best of the best outside, but he had a soft spot for homemade meals. The other reason he adored making you cook was because your food showed him your mood. He understood where you were in the pyramid of obedience through your cooking. On good days your meals were delicious. He felt like even the rice had a different taste. Sometimes you even bothered shaping meals in cute ways, he got the plates he couldn't get when he was a kid now. On the days you felt rebellious and angry your meals were horrible. Spices were too much, food was cold and hard, sometimes even burnt. On good days you prepared desserts, but one day you dared give him just two plain onigiris. He didn't mind though. He enjoyed seeing deep down you still had a rebellious spirit. It showed him there's still room to grow, to learn and to accept. And he would make you accept. You would learn. One day, you'd be the obedient, accepting, loving S/O he wished to have.

#tw:yandere #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere izana kurokawa #yandere izana kurokawa x reader #yandere izana #yandere izana x reader

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penvisions · 10 months ago

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 15}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: Moff Gideon's troops close in on your position as you try to make an escape.

Word Count: 12.5k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, fighting, fight scenes, conflict, emotional trauma, emotional manipulation, physical manipulation, coercion, manipulation, reader goes momentarily mute, emotional outbursts, argumentative language, din raises his voice, din yells at reader two times, loss of temper for both reader and din, moff gideon gets his own warning, description of injuries, blood, descriptions of nausea, concussions, minor character death, major character injury, angst, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a name that is sparingly used for plot points, if i forgot anything please let me know and i'll add it!

A/N: so, this happened nearly immediately after i posted the last one. had the general scenes of this chapter outlined for ages, but it took a darker turn than even i anticipated. this chapter is dedicated to @sawymredfox for allowing me to bounce ideas off of them! i don't know what to say other than, i'm sorry and please feel free to (kindly) yell at me if you need to

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“We need to move.”

“Who put you in charge?”

“I’m sorry, do you speak Mando’a? Do you know the customs and cultural presets for interacting with them on their own terms, in their own setting?” One last tear trailed down your cheek and you roughly wiped it away. Trying your best to keep the heated gaze you shared with the older man.

Neither person said anything as you walked past them to take the lead, ad’ika cooing after you with one of his small claws. He began to wriggle in Cara’s grip, unhappy with the woman holding him, a cry breaking the silence of the darkened tunnel. She tried her best to keep him secure against her chest, but he pushed at her, little fists thumping hard. He kept his gazed trained on you, another bellowing cry gaining volume the further you walked away.

“I think he wants you, cyar’ika.” Cara called out, unsure of what else to do. She followed after you, steps echoing all around. You turned with a blank face that quickly softened as you looked down at the child. Heart thudding as you reached out for him, he practically threw himself at you, jumping from Cara’s hold and toward you. You caught him with a small huff, trying to keep a solid hold on him as he buried his face into your neck and whimpered.

“I’ve got you, ad’ika.” You murmured, away of Karga watching you, something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. With quiet words, you secured him in the bag he had been handed to Kuiil in during your separation and adjusted it over your shoulder. You fixed it to rest along your left hip, his weight barely anything as he kept one hand wrapped around the hem of your tank top for comfort.

The tunnels were deserted, no sign of recent occupation or life, traveling further into them. You couldn’t have been making progress, the winding underground world expansive and deliberately set up to deter people from finding the pockets of life hidden within. With a frustrated sigh, you shined your vambrace’s flashlight on the walls around you. Trying to catch a glimpse of anything scribed along them, using the red of it to pick up on anything gilded in hidden ink.

You wished for the helmet Akiz had left to you, for the cover of it and the different visor settings to aid you in your search. But you had lost it, like you had everything else. It was hopefully still secured in the chest buried in the remnants of your hideaway deep in the desert of Tatooine.

Maybe…maybe it was time to return there, with ad’ika, if you ever managed to get off world. Place the pendant Din had gifted you along side it. Remnants of a life you had tried to start over twice now and unable to maintain. The sacrifice of two Mandalorians weighing you down and urging you to hide away once again. The threat after you, after you both too strong to fight and overcome.

An explosion overhead had you reaching for the child, hand firm on his small back as he fussed.

All three of you turned toward the direction you had just come from, wary of the tunnels beginning to cave in and trap you. Your breath hitched at the sound of twin steps, the unsteady light dancing o the wall as figures approached and rounded the corner you had just turned.

But it wasn’t soldiers or Mandalorians intent on protecting their space, nor civilians running from the fighting and occupation of the city overhead.

It was IG-11, leading and supporting a weak Din.

Your body wouldn’t move, mind going blank as Din’s amor glinted in the low light of the tunnels.

Cara rushed forward, a smile breaking out on her face. Karga right behind her as she reached out a tentative hand to his cuirass. His helmet bobbed, unsteady on his feet and balance shot as he swayed from the light pressure. He didn’t say anything as she curled an arm around his back and took the brunt of his weight. Light emanating from the side of his helmet swinging around as he jostled from the movements.

“Want to lend a hand here?” She looked toward you, frozen in your spot.

When you didn’t say anything, eyes avoiding looking directly at the armored figure and fingers twitching with the urge to reach out an ensure he was real, he was alive, he was right in front of you; Karga took point.

“Do you know which way to go?”

“No. I don’t know these tunnels.” His voice was still raspy, a scratchy quality that prickled the skin of your back as it fell on your ears. Secure in his pouch, ad’ika cooed in response, ears wiggling as he watching his guardian with wide eyes. When the helmet raised and focused on your completely, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care that his light was shining directly on you. “I’ve only entered from the bazaar. Mesh’la, have you found any clues?”

You turned your back on him and began to walk, not trusting your voice. A grunt of pain displayed through the helmet, Cara murmuring quiet words to ensure he was okay enough to move. When he agreed, she adjusted his arm over her shoulder and began to follow after you.

“She’s been quiet since we left you behind.”

“Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and we follow it, it’ll lead us up to the plains where the river flows.

“The Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety.

“Ugh, this place is a maze.

“Stop.” He sounded more clear than he had as of yet. Slowly pulling away from Cara, flanked by them both as they prepared to catch him should he fall. “I can stand.”

“The bacta infusion is working.” IG-11 assured and it eased your heart a bit, to know that the man had taken help from the droid, even if he hadn’t taken it from you. But bacta could only do so much, mentally making a note to pick up more the first chance you had. If not in the controlled city, then on the next world as soon as the ship was docked and you ensured he would be okay while in your absence.

“I’ll try to find tracks. Mesh’la have you found any up there?” Din tried to call out, rasp to his voice stirring concern in you, it swirled alongside the dark tendrils keeping their hold on you. Amalgamating into an uncomfortable weight carried inside of you as you continued to press on through the tunnels.

When you didn’t answer, only stepped out from the middle of the space, did he see what you had been faintly following without even knowing it. He slowly walked forward, still limping slightly, though he did seem a bit steadier on his feet now.

“We’re close.” He pointed towards your feet, his visor allowing him to see the highlighted trail of footprints from someone within the last few hours. You leaned away from his touch to brush your arm as he stood beside you, helmet watching your downcast face. He whispered your name, voice cracking on the feel of it through his sore throat. He reached out for you again, gloved hand barely brushing the side of your cheek before you were pulling away and moving behind the rest of the group.

He could only watch in concern when you removed the bag ad’ika was settled in from your shoulders and handed it to a willing IG-11 to hold. Words stuck in his own throat as he wanted desperately for a moment alone with you to talk things out and comfort you. But time was a luxury none of you had, if the sporadic explosions from up above were any more of an indication of the predicament.

With a sigh that crackled through the modulator, he began to move once again. A few winding tunnels and turns revealed pockets of life as furniture and barrels began to fill the underground space in pockets.

He came to a slow halt, flashlight making a pile of Mandalorian armor visible right in front of him. It took up most of the current tunnel, the visors of the helmets glinting in the direct light as he stared at them. You held back a gasp at the sight of them, keeping some of your focus on the empty, dark space behind you lest you had followers.

The click of Din turning off his light was loud in the tense silence, the air charged with the emotions he was feeling at such a hopeless and painful sight. He approached the pile slowly, steps stilted as the bacta worked to get him somewhat healed. He kneeled down in front of it, shoulders slumped, and head bowed.

Ad’ika cried out, picking up on the armored man’s emotions. Fussing in the hold IG-11 had on him though he didn’t try to detach.

A helmet was between his hands, lifted up for him to gauge it better. When he was still for longer than a few heartbeats, Cara inched forward and leaned down toward him.

“We should go.”

“You go. Take the ship. I can’t leave it this way.” Somber voice spoken through the modulator, it had you stepping forward but you thought better of it. Not sure if he would welcome your presence beside him at the moment, the memory of approaching a broad figure wearing blue armor replaying in your mind. It was the catalyst for the scene in front of you, Din hunched on the ground, the helmet of one of his fallen gripped in his hands. More evidence of fallen warriors piled in front of him. And it felt like an omen, that it wouldn’t be the last loss for the man to experience. It couldn’t be, not as long as you were with him. As long as ad’ika was with him. Targets marked on your backs, welcoming more conflict, more battles, more gunfire, more loss.

“Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?” Anger flared in his voice, words biting as he turned toward Karga. His legs were stable as he harnessed his anger and closed in on the surprised man. He didn’t move against the approaching man, completely taken off guard by the pile of armor just as everyone else. You felt that same pull of darkness thrum, the memory of Akiz passing too sharp in your mind, striking through you and leaving a chasm for the pull to fill. Dark energy flowed into the chasm, brimming over the edges of it, beginning to take more space in your psyche.

“No. When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended, and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They’re mercenaries. They’re not zealots.”

“Did you do this? Did you?” Surging up, the helmet clunked to the ground. Din was on Karga in a second, dominant hand coming out to push at the older man’s chest, words demanding and furious.

“No!” Was all the older man could shout back, knowing he was no match for even an injured Mandalorian in close combat. The hand not holding fast to a blaster came up to try and placate the approaching man, though he didn’t make an actual move to push back.

“It was not his fault.” A woman’s modulated voice broke the tension suddenly. Din turned around slowly, peering into the darkness that it came from. It was as if he recognized the voice, because he made no move to raise a weapon up. Cara startled, as did ad’ika. But you stood still, unwilling to make yourself a target lest the person be a threat.

“We revealed ourselves.” A tall woman appeared from the mouth of a tunnel that jutted off from this one. Her helmet glinted gold in the low light, small horns a decoration jutting along the top. She was dressed in a deep red, the armor painted over a dull brown outfit of leggings, a skirt, and a long-sleeved shirt. She had a shorter cape about her shoulders, though it was made of thick brown fur.

She was completely calm, voice controlled and the cadence in line with those who seldom used Basic.

She leaned down to retrieve some of the armor, motions precise and almost leisurely.

“We knew what could happen if we left the covert. We were made aware of your situation by that one there hiding among the shadows. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted.”

She explained easily, no remorse or malice in her tone. It simply became a part of what happened, something she would carry silently with her. A part of her history that would one day be a verse in her song, but for now it was something that she must take in stride and move forward.

But you weren’t so collected.

You felt nausea rise up from your stomach and into your chest, recalling the way you had tracked the blue armored man and approached him. You had only wanted to help, only wanted to ensure Din hadn’t walked into a death trap in his escape with ad’ika. You hadn’t meant for the chain of events to end like this. With so many dead and now lost to the never-ending fight against the Empire. The fault for it once again. Adding another regret to the long list you carried with inside yourself.

They had already lost so much, very life eradicated from their home world, an entire culture nearly wiped out. And you had played a part in it, once again proving those who manipulated you right. You were capable of dangerous, powerful things. Breathing shaky, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the pile of armor. The beskar began to rattle, the tendrils that wrapped around your psyche tightened and pulled. Causing you to crash to your knees with a painful gasp.

“Did any survive?” As Din carefully asked, you untucked the pendant he had gifted you from your pocket, the cord he had used to keep it around his neck secured to your belt. You clenched your hand around it until the beskar it was made up bit into your palm, the pain centering you in a way that you both hated and were grateful for.

“I hope so. Some may have escaped off world.”

“Come with us.”

“No.” She continued to load pieces of the armor to the cart pulled up behind her, an inkling of the reason on the tip of your tongue. “I will not abandon this place until I have salved what remains.”

Din followed her, turning to enter the space that opened up to the left. Cara and Karga shared a look before they turned to you, moving to follow him when you didn’t look up from your spot on kneeled on the ground, hand still gripped tight around the pendant hanging from your belt.

The forge nestled in the middle of the space was quiet, the soft hush of the constant fires a small comfort to the man who followed behind the armorer of his people. He watched silently as she began to feed pieces into the forge and melt them down.

“Bring her to me, I wish to speak to her.”

Din obliged silently, walking back out into the main tunnel. He kneeled down in front of you with a few heavy pants of exertion, hands reaching out for you but he thought better of it and voiced a soft call of your name to garner your attention. Your head snapped up, eyes filled with tears and a shadow of regret in them. They glinted in the low light and he worried what it meant.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ You took a deep breath in, voice cracking and filled with emotion. “I didn’t mean for anyone to die. I just- I just wanted to help. You were outnumbered beyond capability and I was too weak to fight.”

“You did help, mesh’la. You approached them for help, and they rallied to heed the call. This is the Way.”

He reached out for your hands when he noticed them clenched into tight fists, digging his fingers beneath your own and relieving the tension. The mythosaur pendant was revealed and he watched as it fell to rest against your thigh. “Please don’t hurt yourself, you don’t deserve it.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly into the visor, guilt rolling off of you in waves. He could feel the trembling of your arms as he gripped your hands, trying his best to gently pull you up with him as he stood. You probably helped him get back to his feet as much as he had done for you, sharing in the simple task that was too much at the moment. He dropped the contact as soon as you were both on your feet, not wanting to push you or make you uncomfortable. It was obvious you were still reeling from what happened in the cantina. From him not allowing you to heal him and urging you to save yourself. But it would have to wait, the discussion of the day, for you two. To occur between closed doors and with secured privacy for you both.

“She wants to talk with you, the Armorer.”

Following behind him, you watched the way he was moving gingerly, focusing on pulling up the weight of his legs to move forward, his arms nearly motionless at his sides. The woman was standing before the impressive forge, silhouette bold.

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.”

“This is the one.” Din motioned to the bad being carried by IG-11, ad’ika preened under the attention, glad that his guardian was back alongside him. Even if the young being could sense the pain and discomfort the armored man was in. That he was pushing through to continue to protect him, to shield him from those threats with which he had directly challenged all those days ago after first meeting him…

“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?”

“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” Din’s response was even, polite.

“From the mudhorn?"

“Yes.”

“It looks helpless.”

“Ad’ika is injured, but he is not helpless. His species can move objects with its mind.”

“Ad’ika? It is unusual that you’ve deemed it a nickname. Have you bonded?”

“….a little. But Mesh’la-“

“Another nickname, how…personal of you.” Her interest was piqued, the tone of her voice lightening a smidge. Almost as if her lips were quirked up in a knowing smile.

“I gave him the nickname, he will not communicate his given name with me and it’s made things easier as time moved on and we traveled with him in our charge. In…burc’ya’s charge.” You spoke up, hoping you weren’t overstepping any unspoken rules. You had never interacted with this woman, but your experience with previous Mandalorian Armorers had been different. They had held high, important positions in the culture but something about her seemed….more. She was the head of her faction, if you had to guess. A guiding member of her own covert, if her remaining behind to care for those in death as she had looked after them in life was any indication.

Children of the Watch, Akiz would describe them, had described them to you. He had been a part of that faction of Mandalorian culture as well, though his covert had been wiped out before his time on K’ath. Where your paths crossed and your time together was solidified in the stars. Their practice of the culture more in tune with the religious scripture. Stricter adherence to the mentality of concealing one’s identity, that they were all of one identity.

Tension existed between them and the general population of Mandalore, you had noticed even as a child, due to their beliefs. It wasn’t anything that caused conflict, thankfully, just a strained interaction or two depending on how individuals reacted to the knowledge. Mandalorian’s were accepting people, an accepting culture for the most part. But there were bad seeds and ill notions as with any large population.

But he had been nothing but loving and kind to you, giving you a chance at a life you wouldn’t have had without him responding to your distress call and rescuing you. The same for Din, despite having been his target of capture to return to your mother in a business transaction. The man had overlooked his responsibilities in order to allow you freedom, saved by a selfless Mandalorian once again. Gifted his intentions of personal pursuit, a connection that was proving to be so much more than either of you could have guessed back in that desert compound….

“I know of such things. And she is the one who did so when another appeared to defend its fallen mate?”

“Yes.” He nodded to you, signaling that it was indeed okay to respond to the woman’s rather direct and simple questions.

“Elek, vod.”

Yes, ma’am.

“Gar jorhaa’ir Mando’a.”

You speak Mando’a.

“Elek, ni kar’taylir jorcu be ner cabur. Akiz Noves.”

Yes, I know because of my guardian. Akiz Noves.

“Gar cuyir a evaar'la solus.”

You are a foundling.

She moved with an easy confidence, pulling more ladles of molten beskar from within the forge. Taking them to her work bench and pouring it into a set of molds she had laid out. Taking from the old to create new, a cycle that allowed for her culture to persevere.

“Nayc, ni cuy be a nuarra. A kaysh ogir par ni tion’tuur ni gaa’tayl.”

No, I am of a different Creed. But he was there for me when I needed help.

“Tion gar gal?”

What is your name?

“Noves, gifted to me from my guardian. San, is my given name.”

“And you hold the same power?”

“Yes.”

“The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.”

“He’s an enemy?” Din seemed surprised, while he may only know what he did of them through you, you hadn’t mentioned that those who followed his way of life and yours were sworn enemies. He looked over to you, the woman taking notice of the shared look between you both as you slightly shook your head to assure him that you hadn’t been deceiving him all this time. He wouldn’t have believed it of you, with how things had developed between you both, the connection you two shared. Surely you would’ve told him if the child was a being typically raised with a disposition toward his own.

“No. Its kind were enemies in the sense that battles took place throughout history when ideals did not align. But these two individuals are not. It is a foundling.” She turned her back on to the line your group made in front of her and began to move about the workspace. “By Creed, it is in your care. And she is your key to reuniting it with its own kind should she not want the responsibility herself.”

Items in her grip as she tilted her helmet toward you, another question sounding from her.

“You are sworn to the Jedi Creed, are you not?”

“I…I was. I no longer adhere to either side of the Force. I am sensitive to it, can wield it.” It was an honest half answer, the morality of the question too detailed to get into at the moment. Something you weren’t sure anyone who wasn’t Force sensitive would even begin to understand. But you wanted her to know that you weren’t trying to deceive her or her authority. You were simply being as plain as you could with her, knowing it would mean a great deal to Din for you to do so. That you didn’t want to anything other than show her the respect she deserved.

“You allowed her aboard your ship, share your wares with her as an equal. She can aid you in this mission. Your journeys are intertwined, it was almost as if the Maker knew and set your paths parallel. This is the Way.”

“I have stated my intention of courtship.” Din announced, completely honest with the woman leading the conversation. He respected her, deeply. It was obvious in the way that he stood, at attention despite his injuries no doubt making it hard for him to even concentrate and stand up at all. He should be resting, a luxury you knew all too well was something out of reach when the lives you led seldom allowed for it.

“And have you accepted?” The visor settled into the gold of her helmet was trained on you fully now, watching you with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

You could sense the stillness of Din across the room, his breath baited as he waited for your answer. It would be so easy to lie, to cut the ties between you both that have developed in the wake of losing control. The connection intense enough to influence the balance that had taken you years to find within yourself, all-encompassing and completely terrifying. The confession he whispered to you as he lay injured echoed in your ear, the return of it on the forefront of your mind. Feeling heat blossom in your chest as you recalled the emotions he stirred in you, all the good, you nodded in affirmation. Knowing the importance of declaring such a thing to the woman before you. Of declaring it to Din plainly, even in the wake of the day’s events.

“Yes, he means a great deal to me.” You breathed out, conviction obvious, the sentiment behind the words not lost on you.

“Hey, not that this isn’t exciting information, but these tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.” Her lips quirked again, similar to how they had done when Din admitted to you knowing his name, that he had shared it with you and allowed you to use it.

“If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats.” She turned her attention back to the forge, extending a long handled ladle into the depts of it and retrieving out the molten beskar of the armor she had carefully placed in it moments before.

“I think we should go.” Cara urged, not wanting to become trapped beneath the city as the troops above figured out a way into the tunnels. However winding and confusing they were, it was only a matter of time until they closed in on your position. Especially if you weren’t moving. You had a better chance out in the open landscape, could hide out somewhere and bid your time until nightfall. Get back to the Crest or manage to steal a ship from the city outskirts.

“I’m staying, I need to help her, and I need to heal. Mesh’la can take ad’ika and go with you, hide out until we can reconvene.”

“You must go. A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the Way.”

The room stilled, it was obvious Din wanted to argue his point, but he remained quiet. His need to provide for his people an integral part of the man that he was and he was being instructed to leave the only known surviving one behind. You weren’t sure if you would be able to do so either.

“You have earned your signet.” She walked over to him, a metal plate in her hand and a small welding tool. She fastened it to his right pauldron with quick work. When she stepped back, it was revealed to be the skull of a mudhorn. While you and Din gazed at the addition to his beautiful armor, she moved about the space with admirable concentration and ease.

She walked back to her work bench, retrieving the molds she had filled earlier and removing the now cooler metal. She gathered them with a pair of tongs, moving to plunge them into the vat of water used to set pieces. After a few moments, she deemed them perfect and pulled them out. Wiping them down and taking the mallet to a few places, she revealed her work to be a pair of pauldrons.

She held the armor out to you.

“When a Mandalorian courts, that is a very important bond.” You stepped forward at her beckoning, allowing her to fasten the pieces of armor to your shoulders, her gloved fingers moving your cape out of the way with careful motions. Feeling the presence of Akiz watching over you as she did so. You closed your eyes, immersing yourself in the feeling of being accepted by the woman, by the leader of Din’s covert. Of being folded into Mandalorian culture once again. Thankful for the endless kindness and protection its people had provided to you throughout your life.

The weight of the armor was foreign, beskar being known as one of the strongest and most dense metals in the galaxy. But it was also comforting, akin to being wrapped up in the arms of someone you trusted.

“And though you are not to be riduurok just yet, that makes you a part of his clan. A clan of three.”

She fastened a twin signet into your right pauldron, mirroring the way she had done with Din.

“Thank you. I will wear this with honor.” Reverence coated his somber tone, aware of the importance of finally being given such a symbol from the leader of his covert. The importance of the Armorer gifting you the set of pauldrons, his signet. That it was not given lightly, nor without thought.

“I will as well, your craftmanship is inspiring.”

“While you still follow another Creed, you have been folded in our own, it is a great honor.”

An explosion sounded overhead, too close for comfort. The commotion broke the scene, calling everyone back to reality in a harsh way.

“IG, please guard the other hallway. A scouting party draws near.”

Heeding the woman’s command, the droid handed the bag in its hold to Cara.

“Hang on. I don’t do the baby thing.” Ad’ika squealed happily as he reached out to wave his claws in her face. She moved to hand the bag over to you, but you held your hands up in surrender.

“He likes you, accept it cyar’ika.”

“I have one more gift for your journey.” The Armorer announced. Moving behind Din and toward a chest that was up against the wall of the workspace.

“Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

“When I was a boy, yes.”

“Then this will make you complete.” She turned around, revealing a purely silver beskar pack. It was beautiful, the details of it amazing as you looked over it. Din seemed to be taken aback by such an offering, his voice low when he thanked her.

“When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”

“I understand.”

“Ensure that he is completely healed before he begins, it is your responsibility to care for him until he is recovered. Do not allow him to harm himself with his notion of impatience. As I’m sure you’ve picked up on it in your time together.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you stepped forward, placing a hand atop Din’s left shoulder. You nodded an affirmation of the woman’s words, teasing quality to them as she displayed how well she knew the man standing between you.

Any remark you were about to make was lost as the sound of blaster fire echoed down the tunnels. Far too close for comfort. There was a loud thud, before the form of IG-11 appeared in the mouth of the workspace. Two blasters in its grip it turned to the group and assured that the threat had been taken care of.

“More will come. You must go.”

“Come with us.” Din breathed out, not a question but a silent plea of the woman before him.

“My place is here. Restock your munitions. Both of you.” When you didn’t follow the man’s steps toward the cache of weaponry, he turned to you with a tilt of his helmet.

“Mesh’la, take what you need.”

“I-I can’t. The armor is already-“ You stumbled over your worlds, overcome with meaning behind declaring your intentions with Din. With the pull toward the dark pit that had opened up inside of you that took conscious effort not to fall into its pull every second since it formed.

“You are a part of this, you’ve been accepted into the covert. You have a right to the supplies offered for battle.”

“IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.”

“Now, go.” The Armorer held out the jet pack for the droid, ensuring it was secure before bidding you goodbye. “Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey.”

“Thank you.” Din followed after the others, allowing you a moment alone with the Armorer as you moved to stand in front of her beside the forge.

“Thank you, vod. I-I have no words to express my gratitude.”

“You are welcome, anyone who intends to become riduurok with one of our kind is accepted as one of our own. Though, I’m sure you know of such customs from your guardian. Do you still carry his armor with you?

“I have his helmet, he gifted it to me upon his death. The rest was lost in a plasma explosion. I’m sorry for not being able to deliver it to his home planet or another covert to recycle.” You bowed your head, sincere in your words.

“I hereby give you permission to alter it for yourself, should you wish to don it in battle. I will not enforce the rule of anonymity on you that the rest of us follow. Look out for him, he…means a great deal to our covert, what remains of it. He was the sole provider for many years while we stayed hidden in the shadows for our own protection.”

“I will, I swear to you.”

“Go, may our paths cross again, San Noves.” She reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, nodding at you before turning her back on you.

After what felt like far too long, the tunnels finally opened up into a wide chasm. The space filled with a flowing river, lava making up the currents as it slowly moved to the east. It was a mesmerizing sight, beautiful in the way it glowed red and orange through the crust of volcanic rock that began to harden along the top.

The heat from the river was intense, making the air too dry to breath in without feeling a sting in your lungs. You worried for ad’ika in Cara’s hold. His smaller body struggling with the new environment.

Both men dashed forward, inspecting the abandoned vehicle hovering above the river at the bank. A motionless droid was covered in hardened lava, the rock encasing the entire figure save for a part of its front and the top of its head. It looked like it had been abandoned a long while ago, days, perhaps weeks at this point if the city had been overrun for as long as Karga described. The bottom and body of the vehicle seemed to be in good shape, but more hardened lava had bridged the space between it and the shore, locking it into place.

Both men began to push at the boat, trying their best to loosen the melding of it to the makeshift dock of the riverbank. You and Cara shared an exasperated look at their efforts, knowing there was no way one man at full strength and one at half would be able to shift it.

Din showed his growing frustration by surging up and kicking at the side of the speeder. He stumbled from the reverb of his action, and you rushed to wrap your arms around his shoulders and catch and prevent him from falling completely. There was no telling what it would’ve done to the partial recovery he had made. You didn’t want him to lose consciousness again or irritate the injuries he was fighting against. It didn’t matter how well the bacta was working, he could always make the problem worse. To the point beyond a general healing spray and that…that wouldn’t be good. You doubted he would allow you to take him to a med center, even if it was run primarily by droids. Especially if it was run primarily by droids.

“Come on! What’re you doing?”

Din pulled from your grip, nearly shrugging you off in his move to retrieve a broken piece of piping that was scattered on the bank.

“Let’s try this.” Thankfully Cara had the same train of thought as you did, that it was futile to try and force the vehicle to separate from the shoreline. She adjusted the large blaster in her hold, keeping one arm wrapped securely around ad’ika.

“You guys mind getting out of the way?”

When the bolts didn’t work to detach the speeder, you held your hands out and harnessed the power curled up inside of you, feeling it in full force as you controlled it to focus on the body of the vehicle. A low whine sounded from deep in your chest as it didn’t budge, urging you to shift your focus on the rock keeping it tethered in place. It was silent for a moment, Din stepping up beside you to assure you that it wasn’t necessary for you to do so. His words were cut off by the metallic groaning of the boat prying away from the shore to float freely in the river.

He curled a hand around your shoulder, silently praising you. As he stepped forward to board, his gloved fingers trailed down the beskar protection you had been adorned with, almost caressing the signet fastened proudly into the metal. He held out a hand to help you bridge the gap between it and the heightened shore. Your heart thudding with a few heavy beats as you took it and boarded alongside him.

Mechanical beeping and whirring had all four of you turning with blasters raised toward the ferry droid that had suddenly activated. The rock attached to it crumbled away as it activated and stood. It was tall, towering over even Din, moving to displace a metal oar from where it had been hidden among the rock.

“I don’t suppose anyone here speaks droid?”

“I believe he is asking where we would like to go.” IG-11 translated.

“Down river. To the lava flat.” Karga spoke strongly, his voice holding an air of command to it, ensuring that there was no confusion to be taken by the new droid.

Minutes passed, a lot of them, your anxiety humming as you kept your head on a swivel to catch any warning signs of an ambush, of any swarms of soldiers erupting from within the tunnels sparse openings and out into the underground one that the river flowed through.

The skittering of small rodent like creatures along the shoreline caught your attention, more than a few of them pausing in their activity to gaze at you as the speeder past by. They were cute and ad’ika seemed to agree as he raised his claws from within the bag and waved at them. They chittered at him before moving on, unsure of what to make of the odd sight of your group traveling downstream.

“That’s it! We’re free!”

“No, we’re not.” A gloved hand pressed to the side of his helmet, displaying a view for Din that he described for everyone else. “Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.”

“They were ordered there to prevent us from escaping, even if we didn’t take this route. Moff Gideon wouldn’t chance it.” It had to have been him ensuring he didn’t lose you to the wilds of the planet, the landscape endless and easy to secure a hideaway. With the sun setting in mere hours, you could be lost for the night, enough time for your group to figure out a way off world.

Commanding the droid to stop the speeder from traveling down river was fruitless. It merely chirped and beeped, not heeding the sudden flux of words aimed at it. When it didn’t seem to understand anything, Karga fired on it. But that didn’t seem to stop the momentum of the speeder, now floating of its own accord toward the mouth of the tunnel, toward the sunlight and waiting ambush.

“We’re still moving.”

“Looks like we fight.”

“There are too many.”

“Then what do you suggest? Cause I can’t surrender.” Cara hissed, setting the bag down atop a seat in the bed of the speeder. Ad’ika gurgled, hands reaching up for someone, anyone to pick him back up. You were about to reach for him when IG-11 stepped forward to take him in its arms again.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child and the Sith.”

“Not a Sith.” You hissed out, pinning the droid with a glare, lava spouting up around the speeder. Some of it splattered up against the side of the vehicle, the metal steaming as it melted under the contact.

“Apologies, I was inferring from-“

“You inferred wrong.”

“Understood. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”

“You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn’t even get to daylight.” Din was quick to put a pin in that idea, not willing to give up the extra set of hands.

“That is not my objective.”

“We’re getting close. Saddle up.” Karga pointed towards the entrance mere yards away now.

“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

“What are you talking about?” Confusion in his tone, Din faced the droid head on, trying to understand exactly the point it was trying to make.

“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”

“Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?”

“I can no longer carry this for you. Nor can I watch over the child.” IG-11 reached down to hand ad’ika over to Din, the armored man taking the bag with steady arms. Quiet thuds of tiny hands against his cuirass displayed the child’s delight.

“Wait. You can’t self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child. That supersedes your manufacturer’s protocol, right?”

A pause.

“That is correct.”

“Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.”

“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. The woman will be lost.” IG-11 began to cross the width of the speeders bay, toward the right side of the vehicle. “Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive.”

“Listen, you’re not going anywhere. We need you. Let’s just come up with a…” Din’s words trailed off, no other solution coming to mind for him to voice.

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care.” Head turned toward the armored man, waiting for confirmation. “If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

“But you’ll be destroyed.”

“And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.”

“No,” He sounded almost…remorseful. You could feel the conflicting emotions wafting from him, read it in the stance he had, the way his shoulders were set. “We need you.”

“There’s nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.”

“I’m not…sad.” Din argued weakly.

“Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.”

IG-11 reached out a hand and caressed the tip of ad’ika’s ear in a parting gesture.

“What’re you doing?” Karga demanded as you all watched the droid step out from the deck of the speeder and down into the slow-moving river. The metal of its legs hissing at the sudden barrage of temperature. The mechanics tried to hold out as it trudged forward, flames licking up the sides slowly.

A pulsating alarm began to beep, a chasm in the chest piece opening up the second IG-11 was outside the mouth of the tunnel. A blinding explosion erupting seconds later. The screams of the waiting soldiers hurt your ears, the flash bright even behind shielded eyes. The speeder continued on, moving through the cloud of smoke and ash that lingered in the air.

The bodies of the dead soldiers were scattered and you tamped down a flood of memories from the last time you had been at the sight of such a directed attack on them.

There was no time to revel in the defeat, the screeching of a TIE fighter hurtling through the air and right at your groups position. Moff Gideon not giving up even in the face of losing another faction under his command. Cara and Din raised their blasters, prepared to shoot his ship from the air. It was not a match for the focused fire he laid down as the ship swooped low, though no hits landed directly over you.

“He missed!” Cara shouted out, hope coloring her words.

“He won’t next time.” You spoke evenly, wanting them to understand the situation at hand. The only way this was going to end was with someone’s death. Be it one of yours, all of yours, or Gideon’s. The conflict would drone on until the threat was eradicated, you just hoped that your side was the one that came out victorious.

“Our blasters are useless against him.”

“Hey, let’s make the baby do the magic hand thing. Come on, baby! Do the magic hand thing.” Karga waved his hand frantically in the air, prompting ad’ika to follow his command. But all the child did was wave back at him, cooing all the while with a curious expression.

“He doesn’t have that type of control.” You reasoned, not wanting to rely on ad’ika’s powers when thwarting the flame thrower had taken so much from him.

“He did it back in the cantina!” Karga argued, brow furrowed at his lack of understanding the nuances of something that could really help in their favor.

“He was emulating me, he doesn’t really have an understanding of harnessing his powers like that.”

“Give him some credit, jeez.”

“He needs to rest, he’s overwhelmed!”

“Then I’m out of ideas. If you refuse to use it yourself.”

“I never said I refused, I need a clean line of sight.” You looked over your shoulder, worried for ad’ika as he cried out at the heightened emotions between all four of you. You leaned down to rub a hand over his small back, ensuring he was snug in the bag. You tried to push a good feeling through the connection, wanting to comfort him in any way. A strike of pain rained down from the crown of your head and ad’ika’s small claws dug into the front of your tank top.

“I’m not out of ideas.” Din interrupted your harmless bickering, something in his town making you turn to him fully.

“Here he comes!” Distant roaring signaled that the ship was maneuvering and about to return.

Din set his blaster back in the holster on his hip. Reaching down with a grunt of effort to lift up the jetpack that had just been gifted to him, confirming your suspicions. There was no way he was healed enough to maneuver through the air with it, that he could pick it up so quickly and focus with his head having been cracked open. The phantom feel of his blood thick on your hands making you shake them out.

“She said to wait until you were healed!” You rushed forward and cupped your hands over his shoulders, hoping a gentle touch would help to convince him not to go through with what he was thinking. Urging him to listen, to consider that it was too much of a risk that he didn’t need to take. “You’ll injure yourself further, it’s not the only option.”

“It’s what we’ve got right now.” He reasoned calmly, chest heaving with deep breaths as he tried to move about like normal. He was feeling the weight of his full armor, you suspected, the jet pack adding to the struggle to keep up and focus.

The ship swooped low, too close for comfort, firing out in a wide line around the river’s edge. With a shout you stretched your arms out, the ship pivoting heavily to the right. The unexpected movement caused the remaining blasts to hit along the mouth of the tunnel. Deep rumbling signaled the collapse of the tunnels inside, the support of the opening damaged, sheets of broken rock crumbling into the river as the natural structure dissolved.

While you had turned your attention from him, Din had successfully docked the jet pack into the back panel of his armor. Eyes roving over the sight of him completely pieced together, you felt your heart skip a beat. Admiring the image he created against the expansive landscape, armor glinting in the lowering sun in a beautiful way.

And you couldn’t lose him. You wouldn’t.

Recovering from the manipulation, the TIE fighter was soaring directly toward you. Din was standing at the front of the speeder, stepped up on the lip of the vehicle. The engines on the TIE fighter lit up, whirring as they settled on their target. Din’s broad silhouette backed by the incoming threat sent chills down your spine. You blinked rapidly, his figure morphing into the image of a taller man, adorned in a deep blue armor instead of his pure beskar. The explosion of the shots along the ground as the ship neared shook the ground, dirt and pieces of the volcanic rock rising up high into the air. At the last second, before the shot inevitably hit the vehicle, Din bent his knees.

Without a look back at you, he took off into the air.

A cable flew from his vambrace at clicked onto the top of the ship, whipping the man forward as it surged past. You cringed, worry for his head flooding you. If he were to lose consciousness that high up in the air, got tossed off the ship….

You could only watch with the breath stolen from your lungs as he was whipped around, unable to gather his bearings. But he did, finally, jetpack sparking to life, and he grappled a desperate hold onto the body of the ship.

It suddenly began to spiral, controlled surely by a concerned Gideon. You gasped out, hands coming up to your mouth as you watched the body of armor crash into the wings of the ship, scrabbling to keep hold and not get tossed off.

“He’ll be okay, cyar’ika. We have to have faith in him.”

She had spoken a moment too soon because his body was flung from the ship, hurling through the air without a tether.

“No!” Voice hoarse, you scrambled over the errant items inside the space of the speeder. You jumped from the bed of the vehicle, onto the rocky shore of the river and began to sprint. Halting a few yards into the vast landscape, you held both your arms out and focused on the sight of a falling Din. The speed of his fall slowed, allowing him to swivel his head to take in the sight of you so far down below trying to aid him.

His arms flailed as he tried to help align himself as he tumbled through the air, thankful you were doing what you could to slow his rapid descent. As the TIE fighter lost a wing to a sudden explosion, flames and black smoke billowing up, did Din finally manage to engage his jetpack. As soon as he landed clumsily on the ground beside you, grunting at the force of the landing on his body, the ship crashed to the ground just beyond the small crest of a ridge.

Not even a second passed before you were rushing off toward it. Passing by Din with a focus he had only seen when you were in battle. Brows furrowed and eyes alight. Your name being shouted behind you as your legs carried you as fast as you could. You could faintly hear the scuffle between Cara and Din, her catching him as he tried to follow after you, warning him to be careful and that you could take care of yourself. That he had to trust in you that you wouldn’t go too far.

You panted, feeling immeasurable power surge through you. But it wasn’t the pure side of the Force you typically harnessed.

“That was impressive, Mando. Very Impressive.” Karga praised as he approached them. Din had convinced Cara he wouldn’t run after you, allowing her to focus on the child in her grip. Small claws reaching out for the armored man. Extending a shaking hand out, Din allowed the child to grip his gloved fingers.

“It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up. And Sarad’s set at an exceptional rate for a newcomer should she be interested.”

“I can’t speak on her behalf.” He gazed out at the landscape, in the direction of the ridge. He could make out with the help of his helmet, that you had just scaled the top of it, disappearing on the other side. You were upon the crash of the ship.

“Let’s get this speeder running, we can pick her up on the way back to the city.” Cara suggested, not wanting to leave you out in the plains along for too long. Agreement rang out, and they all loaded back up into the vehicle, Din slumping into a seat.

“Let’s go get your girl, Mando.”

“She’s not a possession.” Din hissed out, annoyance flaring.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Don’t read into the phrasing.”

The speeder was slow, mechanics lagging from being exposed to the heat of the river for so long.

Silence tense as it trudged across the open land.

“Her saber turned red.”

Din remained silent, not wanting to delve into speculation over what it meant.

The others seemed to understand that it wasn’t their place, even if they were simply showing concern for your wellbeing.

“You have no control!” You swung your saber, the hum of it lowering in pitch as you cut into the shoulder of the man beginning to crawl through the broken glass of the ship’s viewpoint. The body of it was smoldering, flames licking over the expanse of it, the result of the charges Din had managed to fasten to it.

“You’re weak. You will always be weak. That’s why the pull to the dark side is so strong in you. It can sense that you need guidance, that you need control. And it will take everything from you as it transforms you in its image.” Gideon huffed out, surging forward despite the blood seeping into the fabric of his clothing.

“You’ll fall to it, you’ll give into it with no one to guide you. And you’ll turn that innocent, unsuspecting child in your image. You will experience nothing else, only darkness and destruction and the death of those around you.”

He tore himself out of the debris, standing to his full height and engaging a blade that hummed in much the same way as your lightsaber. It was lined like a true blade, black that gave way to bright white of a kyber crystal housed in the handle.

It stopped you in your tracks. The bright glow of it captivating you, whispers seeping from it and tickling your mind. So distracted as you were, you could only step back with each approaching one of his. Your own weapon hanging low at your side, crackling in a response to the enchanting blade in the man’s hand.

“Couldn’t save your beloved guardian and you’re not going to be able to save your delusional Mandalorian now. I will have his head if it’s the last thing I do. I will have the head of your precious child if it’s the last thing I do. They will die, they will both fall. You won’t be able to save the man you love. Again. It means more to me than anything to bring them down and take what I want from your lifeless bodies.”

You exhaled heavily as you plunged your saber out. The harsh crack of the blades connecting echoed across the plains. You merely blocked his attacks, gauging his style and still too enamored by the twin pulls of the dark tendrils wrapping around your ankles and that of the weapon in the man’s possession. When it glided across the armor you had been gifted, you snapped out of your defensive reverie, teeth gritting as you returned the gesture.

He grunted when you sliced into his shoulder a second time, arm going limp at his side as the blade cut into the space between his own armor that allowed for movement. His eyes widened as he realized you weren’t going to succumb to the energy wafting from you, that it wasn’t overpowering you in the way that he had anticipated, that he had seen before as you struggled against it. Unwilling to succumb to the pull of it, the almost sentient energy. You were harnessing it. And he allowed a smirk to pull at his lips.

“So predictable, dear San.” He pressed forward, holding his useless arm to his side. Taking the injury in stride if it meant that you were crumbling. “Falling into the same traps time and time again. So easily manipulated. When will you learn that there is nothing more for you than the title of a Sith?”

Your blade crackled, gaining intensity to its glow, white tinted at the base of it. The red seeping into the entire thing, casting your face in the light.

“There is no love for someone like you. Not of a parent, not of a guardian, not that of a partner. You were born to this, the rise to power with the dark side. Nothing else will come to you, your foolish Mandalorian will see your true nature soon enough and abandon you. His history suggests he only cares about his people, his Creed. What could he possibly want from you, so steeped in emotion and vulnerability.”

Swiping at his feet, he stumbled, cape fluttering as tried to catch himself on his knees. But you were throwing him toward the rubble of the ship with an outstretched hand. He could do nothing as he felt the energy wrap itself around him and command his body as if it was its own. He cried out as the broken metal of the frame bit into his back. The snap of his armor against it was loud. Gasping suddenly as he couldn’t breathe in, the air stolen from his very lungs.

Wide eyes turned to you, hand clenched in a fist as you constricted his airways. Watching with an unnerving calmness as the blood vessels in his eyes began to bleed, the veins in his neck began to bulge, his dark skin taking on a ruddy tone as he struggled.

With heaving breaths, you dismantled the TIE fighter down with your saber until it was nothing but a pile of smoldering metal and broken glass. Barricading the man inside.

Just as you began to distance yourself from the ship, the speeder from the river appeared over the ridge, moving toward you. Sighing, you waited for it to stop at the bottom before trudging on. Not risking it getting too close to the flames and smoke of the TIE fighters remains.

“You should get checked out, ad’ika too.” Your words were flat as you approached the group of them alongside the speeder. Din was leaning heavily against the side of it, helmet slumped, the bottom of it resting on his cuirass. Everyone perked up at the scuff of your approaching form.

“No.” Breathless, he could barely get the word out though it sounded strong to your ears through the modulator. The mechanics hiding the way his expression was pinched and his eyes were blinking rapidly against the pain reverberating through his entire body. You could sense his discomfort, the way his heart was beating irregularly, attuned to him in such a personal way enhanced through the pulse of dark energy flowing through you still.

You sighed, frustration building up at the recollection of how he could barely move mere hours ago and his refusal to let you try to heal him. Gideon’s confident words echoing in your head, incessantly.

“I’m not letting you fly without medical clearance.”

“Let me?” His helmet rounded on you, surprise through the modulator. The glint of the sun on the visor mirrored how his eyes did so underneath as he pushed away from the side of the vehicle. “I’m a grown man.”

“Yes.”

“All I need to do is get back to the ship.”

“Then you’ll go alone.”

“…you’re staying behind?” Hesitancy clear through the modulator. His back was to you, having turned to take in the smoking pile of what was once the TIE fighter in the distance.

“To help them free the city, yes. To ensure everyone is safe. To get supplies and more bacta for you. Whatever else we may need to combat your injuries.” You softened, features displaying the exhaustion weighing you down. Your hands were fiddling with the pendant he had given you, the shine of the beskar in the sunlight bright between your fingers. “I…I would really appreciate it if you humored me and got a scan done at the med center. Just…just so we know what’s wrong and how to heal it.”

“I’m fine.”

“But I’m not.” He whirled around quickly, too quickly, his footing unbalanced at the motion, and he stumbled. The question of what was wrong on the tip of his tongue when you trained your shining eyes on his visor. “Din, I- I need to know you’re okay. Truly okay. Please.”

He turned back around, unable to take in the sight of the earnest concerns falling from your lips, the tears threatening to fall.

He didn’t take his gaze from the distant crash sight, helmet overlooking the scene through different lenses, ensuring that the threat was truly eradicated.

“I can’t look after you if you don’t let me. And before you say it’s not my job, Din, it is. You made it so when you announced your intentions to court me with the Armorer.”

“You think I have regrets in doing so?” Timbre of his voice low, a warning in his tone that sent alarm bells ringing in your head. The first real conflict between you both, weighing heavily in the tense air.

“No.” Was your immediate answer, truth behind the word though it was spoken in a tight voice.

“Do you?”

“No! I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s it, I’m not…I’m not trying to do anything except for that but if you think I’m trying to get your kriffing helmet off so I can see you when you’ve explicitly told me you didn’t want to and I know the customs then then-“ You scrambled to remove the beskar fastened around your shoulders and thrust it into his chest. You hadn’t even wanted to say those things, furl the accusation at him along with the armor, but something compelled you to. Anger striking harshly and taking hold. Manipulating you into succumbing to it, the feeling of a pit opening inside your mind. Dark and beckoning. He swayed back with the force of it pressed to him, modulator crackling as he realized you were completely serious. “Maybe we were foolish to entertain the thought. Leave. Just go, Din.”

“Mesh’la-“ His knuckles popped as he held the armor in his hands, wound as tight as he could ever remember, a thrumming low in his head that was steadily gaining momentum and making it hard to focus. He could feel the energy flowing from you, see it in the twitching of your muscles and the lack of control you seemed to have over your words. It was unlike you, to raise your voice, to be so unwilling to hear him out, to take his words into account. He was trying his best to keep up but he wasn’t handling it well, he knew that. He…he felt so nauseas and dizzy and he just wanted to rest.

“I have a name.”

“San, I didn’t- I don’t think that. I did not say that, do not put words in my mouth.”

“Well, you’re not exactly saying anything now are you!”

“Because I don’t have anything to say! It’s been a long day and I just want to return to the ship.”

“I think maybe we should all just- not calm down!” Cara rushed to say at the heated looks her way. The intensity of them unnerving her. “Not calm down but put a pin in this and get back to the city.”

“Fine with me.”

“I’ll meet you back at the Crest.”

Din took a few steps away from the speeder, preparing to take off with the aid of his jetpack once again.

He paused as you gasped out, trembling hands causing you to lose your hold on the speeders edge as you tried to climb in. Clenching his eyes tight and taking a deep breath, he walked back toward you. His hands didn’t linger when he helped you board this time, taking a seat at the back bench and facing out toward the plains.

When you sat down on the other side of the bench, he slowly moved to fasten the armor back to your shoulders. He silently thanked the Maker that you allowed him to do it, allowed him to fasten his signet back onto you. He wasn’t one for outward expressions but it eased his heart that you still wanted to display in even in the wake of an argument. The gravity of you choosing to wear something that signified him was not lost on him, words of a time past where you had cried out that you would never submit to anyone again echoing in his mind as the speeder traveled on.

“Are you going to talk to me?” You knew you should give him some space, give him time to process the events of the day. To rest and feel more like himself. But you couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight the push to confront him, emotions a whirlwind inside your chest. Dark pit opened up right in the middle and tainting everything that you were. You watched on as if you weren’t in your own body, as you continued to push the man’s buttons until you both snapped.

The silence was heavy, his shoulders tight underneath his armor, hands busy searching for something within the panels making up the walls. For what, you weren’t sure. He had been silent the entire walk back to the ship, to where you had moved to closer to the entrance of the city while he underwent a general scan to ensure his injuries would heal completely. It had taken a lot of convincing, and he hadn’t been too happy with the way you begged him. Though he knew you hadn’t done so to intentionally manipulate him. You were just concerned.

It was just that he was accustomed to dealing with injuries on his own. Returning to the covert for serious things he needed help with. The migraine building in strength overwhelming him in the worst way paired with your insistence on sticking around for the rest of the day irking him. He knew it was unjustified, that he should find it endearing that you cared so much about the city and those within it, but he wanted nothing more than to retire to his personal space and put as much distance between the planet and himself as possible.

“Din, your skull was cracked open. You-your brain was exposed, and you wanted me to leave you there to die alone!”

“I didn’t want you to see it, to have to go through that, to carry that with you!” He turned sharply, voice a rumble as he realized there was no getting out of this conversation. He had hoped you wouldn’t bring it up so immediately, that you would approach him in a calmer manner when you could sense he was willing to talk.

This was unlike you. To yell and holler, to berate him with accusations. You were scared, he realized. And the dark pull of the Force was making you lash out. His actions had scared you beyond comprehension and control, you didn’t know how to cope with that chasm opened up in your psyche to allow for the tendrils to spark to life and the pit to open up. He didn’t fault you, though he did have an issue with the way you insisted on confrontation.

Emotions too bold overcoming him as he paired them with the words you had whispered to him as he lay dying in the rumble just hours ago.

“That’s not your choice to make!”

“I am not arguing about this!” He snapped, unable to quell the urge to match your volume.

“Too bad! You don’t get a say in that either!! You have to talk to me, please, just…help me understand.”

“You know the Creed, you know it’s an honor to die in battle. If I was willing to give up my life, it’s not your place to tell me otherwise.”

“Din, I could’ve healed you, I could’ve tried. I could’ve saved you.” You weren’t crying, body too worked up for even that, hurt and fear twisted into an ugly thing and making you something you weren’t.

They will die, they will both fall. You won’t be able to save the man you love. Again.

“I was ready to die.” He didn’t break the gaze he had on you, reading the emotions flitting across your face. “I was ready to die for you both to get to safety, for all of you to make an escape.”

“So you’re allowed to sacrifice yourself for me but I can’t do the same? That’s bullshit and you know it. Not allowing me to take on what I could’ve so you could live another day doesn’t warrant even a conversation?”

Anxiety was like a layer too tight skin over your entire body, making it hard to take in a full breath, to concentrate past the throbbing of your head.

“I could’ve saved you.” You repeated, lips pulled down in a frown, trying to keep the tears at bay, the trembling of your lips prone to give you away. “You-you said you loved me and then wanted to die. I could’ve saved you. I could’ve, I couldn’t, I-I-“

All of your breath left you in a sudden gasp and your words cut off as you snapped your mouth shut, teeth clacking with the motion. You tried to breathe in through your nose, but a wave of nausea overtook you and you clamped a hand over your mouth. The lingering scent of sulfur twisting your stomach. It was an ill-timed realization paired with how suddenly acutely aware of how intense you were being, how overwhelmed you were on already shot nerves. That it was the dark pit pulling you inward, inch by inch, dark temptations reaching out and wrapping around more and more of your legs while you could do nothing to fight it.

“Mesh’la…”

“I need a minute, please, just…give me a fucking minute!” You shouted, flinging out a hand toward the approaching shadow. Toward the rampage of memories plaguing you. Your voice raw as it tore through your throat. There was a sharp clang of metal on metal, but your mind was overrun by the barrage of screams and pleas overtaking your ears. The hum of your blade as it shown red all around you, reflecting in the dead eyes and on the metal walls of the ship you had destroyed in your grief. Of the wreckage caused by the crash, bathed in the sickly color.

Red, red, red. It was everywhere, all over the walls, all over your hands, your clothes, the warm feeling of it saturating you and seeping into your skin. The sight of it burned into the very synapses of your mind, pooled underneath the body of a man you loved, pooled underneath the body of a man you were in love with. Your ears began to ring, all sound muffled.

Nothing else will come to you, your foolish Mandalorian will see your true nature soon enough and abandon you. His history suggests he only cares about his people, his Creed.

Your chest hurt, heart stuttering as it tried to regulate itself in the wake of your hitching breath, unable to take a full one and calm down. The world tilted on its axis, and you went with it. Falling physically to the ground, mentally down into the void taking over more of your psyche until it was all you knew. Vision blacking out. As it did, the entire ship lurched. It took a moment for the mechanical software programmed into the ship to correct the trajectory.

All Din could do was watch as your unconscious form fell from where you had flung him across the hold, body pinned to the wall as your mind broke in a way he had been trying to prevent. Everything fastened to the walls and the panel covers had been vibrating with the force of your words and emotions, harnessing the Force unconsciously as you tried to confront him. As soon as your body hit the durasteel floor, muscles going loose did the hold you have on him diminish and everything went still.

He slumped down, backside hitting the ground, body aching all over.

It was only a moment until one of the engines began to spark then groaned. The ship lurched again, alarms beeping, lights flickering, spurring him into action. Din rushed up to the control room, remorse for having to leave you unconscious on the floor of the hold.

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