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bubble-tea-bunny · 4 years

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i could make you care

[saiki kusuo x reader]

author’s note: i tried to incorporate as many characters into this as possible to make it feel like an actual episode and i got overwhelmed so fast lol i haven’t written this many characters in a story in a long time. in any case hope i did them justice and that you enjoy :’)

word count: 3,029

Today’s morning is bright, and Saiki’s walk is quiet. Typically this would be no cause for concern. A quiet walk to school is few and far between, difficult to come by given the company he keeps. (He’d much prefer a calmer bunch, if he were granted the chance to choose, but that is neither here nor there.) Don’t misunderstand: he’d bask in this brief peace, guaranteed to be broken the moment he passes through the gates of PK Academy, if the reason for this uncharacteristic period of silence comes about because of the absence of one particular person—someone who, if one could hardly believe it, Saiki actually prefers to have around more often than not.

He walks past the street which leads to your home, his pace never slowing because he expects you’ll join him, as you do every morning. You’ll wait for him on the corner and smile widely like you haven’t seen him in weeks then skip towards him, falling in step easily. He’ll remain nonplussed as you hug his arm, give it a brief squeeze as you greet him—Good morning, Kusuo!—and then promptly let go because you understand he likes his space but you just can’t help but indulge a little bit.

However, none of the aforementioned events play out this Friday. You’re not on the street corner, not there to smile and fall in step with him. There’s no arm hugging or a bubbly greeting Saiki pretends he isn’t affected by. But the truth is that he is, the routine coming somewhat as a comfort, even at the price of sacrificing some of his beloved personal space. So when you’re nowhere to be found his brows furrow and he wonders where you are.

His steps slow until he comes to a complete stop. He wants to check up on you, sooner rather than later. There isn’t much time to delay if he wants to make it to school before the first bell, but this won’t take long. He crosses his eyes, activating his clairvoyance, and he centers in on you immediately. You’re still at home. You’re at home, and you’re sick.

A box of tissues rests on your nightstand and you’ve pulled your small trash can right next to it from where it usually stands by your door. You toss used tissues into it before nestling beneath your blankets, pulling it up to just below your chin and hugging it close in order to retain heat. Your breath evens out quickly and he can tell you’re asleep. Your body must be exhausted dealing with your cold, and he’s confident this is the way you will be the rest of the day—drifting in and out of sleep, dealing with the sniffles and congestion.

He blinks and loses sight of you and now he’s staring once more down the road. Readjusting his bag on his shoulder with a sigh, he resumes walking and thinks about his plans for the day. As it was the last day of the school week, he’d planned to go to Cafe Mami for coffee jelly to celebrate. But now that he’s learned you’re sick in bed, he’d have to make adjustments. Momentarily he debates if that’s really necessary. You probably wouldn’t want visitors in the state you’re in, and knowing you, you’d tell him to go to the cafe without you to enjoy himself anyway. The thought is tempting, truly, yet he can’t shake the urge to check on you.

It feels less like an obligation and more like a simple desire of his own to make sure you’re okay. Saiki shakes his head, more amused than frustrated. There’s no one else for whom he would so willingly do this, or much else, for, and he doesn’t think he’d ever tell you because you’ll tease him the way you are wont to do whenever his facade cracks and he’ll let you have your fun because when you ask if you’re really so different as to make him act this way, the answer is, well, yes. You are.

He imagines this scenario and the corner of his lips lifts in a small smile. Good grief. You could be quite the handful.

“Hey, Saiki!”

Nendo’s voice is entirely too loud for the morning and Saiki heaves another sigh, one that sounds as though it belongs at the end of the day and not the beginning. Nendo is joined close behind by Kaidou and Kuboyasu, and they easily fill the silence with discussions about going to get ramen after class and the latest movements of the Dark Reunion. Saiki really only picks up words here and there that allude to the topic of conversation but it doesn’t require his full attention. It’s the same song and dance every morning.

The commotion once he arrives at school is much the same. During lectures he is afforded the temporary reprieve from having his ears talked off, since the only one speaking is the teacher, but at breaks, the noise resumes, and though he always stays sitting at his desk, in hopes the others will get the hint that he’s uninterested in chatting, they inevitably crowd themselves around it, until he is right in the middle.

Hairo has outlined a new workout regimen and in his louder than normal volume of speaking he shares it. He’s going to start it today, and if anyone wants to join, they’re more than welcome. It doesn’t look like anyone wants to take the offer, which is expected. Hairo’s exercise routines were… a little extreme.

In any case, Hairo is nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from everyone else and remarks he can’t wait for the end of the school day.

“I think I’ve been losing muscle tone,” he laments, and he complements this statement with a casual flex of his arm, more so to point out the specific areas he thinks are getting soft rather than to show off, but even if he isn’t trying, his biceps are bulging and if his sleeves hadn’t been rolled up, they would have torn.

Saiki’s brow raises. Yeah… I don’t think that’s an issue for you, Hairo.

“I’ve just finished installing an indoor gym at my home, you know.”

Everyone turns to find Saiko has entered into the circle, a smug smirk on his face. When had he gotten here? Really it’s only Hairo who has any sort of reaction to this, eyes practically sparkling imagining the machines and equipment (or maybe that’s just the glare from the fluorescent classroom lights). All the same, Saiko relishes the attention, boasting of the privacy and space and how really, it’s so much easier to be productive if there’s no one else there but Saiki can only wonder if Saiko even works out at all. He doesn’t remember that being mentioned, and Saiki is nothing if not detail oriented.

Saiki doesn’t have long to ponder over this (not that it would’ve continued much longer because he doesn’t actually care about whether Saiko exercises or just set up a gym in his house to brag) before Nendo asks where you are.

Had he just noticed? You always join them on their walk in the morning. But Saiki can’t say he’s surprised it took this long. What he is surprised about is that Nendo had noticed in the first place.

“Oh that’s right,” Kuboyasu adds. “I thought she just went ahead of us today.”

Yumehara informs them of your whereabouts before Saiki does. “She texted me this morning she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed home.” Her phone dings with a new message and she glances at it, then looks back up. “But she says she’s a little more awake now!”

“It’s the Dark Reunion.” Kaidou’s sudden interjection draws everyone’s attention. He clenches his right fist, staring at the bandages wrapped around it. “They’re trying to get to me by going after my friends!”

Saiki remains expressionless but if he didn’t have such good control he would’ve rolled his eyes. Or maybe she just has a cold.

Upon Kaidou’s claim that a secret society is responsible for your illness, Saiki picks up Yumehara’s thoughts: I wish I was the one Kaidou was so worried about! Maybe if I got sick he’d worry about me too! Getting sick to grab Kaidou’s attention? That’s… going overboard, but Saiki can’t find it in him to be shocked, considering from whose mind this speculation has sprung.

“Poor [Name],” Teruhashi says, kind as always. She sets an index finger on her chin, gaze momentarily aimed upwards as she thinks. “I was about to suggest we all go to the cafe after school today and I wish she could join.”

This gives Saiki pause. Wait. The cafe?

“That sounds like a great idea!” Yumehara declares. Again Saiki hears her thoughts: If we go, I need to do my best sit next to Kaidou!

Whether a visit to Cafe Mami comes across as a good idea because it’s a fun way to celebrate the end of the school week or simply because Teruhashi suggested it, Saiki doesn’t know, but one by one the murmurs of assent resound through the group and he barely contains a relieved huff. He’d already changed his own plans from visiting the cafe to seeing you instead, and it’s a good thing too since it’s apparent his alone time would’ve been ruined. Now he has an excuse not to stick around.

Once the final bell rings, they begin their walk into town towards the cafe. The sidewalk feels crowded with all of them on it, and they have to split into pairs to keep the opposite side of the sidewalk free for people going the other way. Among comments from everyone else about how hungry they are, Saiki makes known his intention to just pick up food before leaving. There’s somewhere he needs to be.

“You’re going to go make sure [Name] is doing okay!” Teruhashi exclaims. It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s sweet of you.”

Saiki shrugs. “Sweet” is not the first word he would associate with his actions. It just seems like common sense to check on you. You’d looked miserable this morning, but he takes your message to Yumehara earlier as a good sign that you’re improving, slowly and surely. Still, he’d be more comfortable seeing you himself. He hadn’t gotten any other chances today to use his clairvoyance, but at least it wouldn’t be long now until he’d be heading to your house.

Chisato is working today and she seats everyone. Saiki goes directly to the counter to place his order—coffee jelly for him and strawberry mochi for you—and he stands off to the side while waiting for the treats to be packed. The others are sitting on the far side of the cafe (in his peripherals he sees Yumehara has taken a seat right next to Kaidou) but he can hear them clear as day discussing what food they should order. Yes, he’s certainly glad he won’t be sticking around. Spending Friday in the midst of that noise is far from ideal.

Holding the bag of coffee jelly and mochi in one hand, Saiki uses the other to push open the door, the bell jingling gently, and someone, Nendo it sounds like, raises their voice to shout across the room: Seeya later, Saiki! Then the door closes behind him, and all he can hear is the footsteps of other pedestrians and the low whoosh of cars.

He exhales slowly. Peace at last. He proceeds in the direction of your home, and when he thinks to himself that any longer and his ears might’ve begun to bleed, he’s only half joking.

In the neighborhood it’s much quieter, the only person he passes being someone walking their dog, and only a couple of cars drive past. He knocks on the door and he assumes you’re in your room and so it will take some time for you to open it, but you’re there faster than he expects. You open it just wide enough to stand in the gap, and immediately he notices the fatigue in your eyes. When you realize it’s him, they light up, and the fatigue fails to take away from the brightness of your smile as you open the door wider.

“Kusuo!”

Inside, he sees you’ve moved downstairs to the living room. That’s why you’d answered the door so quickly. There’s a pile of blankets on the couch and a tissue box on the coffee table. The television is on and playing an animation. He doesn’t recognize it, but it must be one of the new ones you mentioned wanting to watch. However, you’re not interested in it now that he's here and you grab the remote to turn down the volume.

“I thought you were going to the cafe today,” you state, head tilting.

Saiki shakes his head. Change of plans. Instead I brought the cafe to us. He holds up the bag of food and doesn’t have to tell you what’s in it. You squeal in delight that he’s come bearing treats, but the sound is a little raspy and awkward due to your sore throat. It’s still easier on Saiki’s ears than the earlier commotion he’d been surrounded with and, if he’s honest, it’s cute.

You plop down on the couch and wait as he joins you. He unties the bag and opens the box, first taking out the packaged pink mochi and handing it to you. Then he grabs his coffee jelly and the plastic spoon it came with before settling back against the cushions.

You sit cross-legged facing him and bite into your soft and squishy treat, humming delightedly. “Thanks, Kusuo.”

Saiki chews a mouthful of coffee jelly and glances at you.

You grin and hold up the mochi. “For the snack and for coming to see me.”

He shrugs because it’s no big deal. Or, well, he tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you know him better than that, better than most others do, and don’t brush it off so quickly. You breathe out dramatically and set a hand on your chest.

“What must I have done for Kusuo Saiki to give up his quiet time for me?” Then you giggle, and it’s punctuated at the end by a sniffle.

He tells you there would’ve been no quiet time at the cafe since the others had also decided to go, and that you’re much better company. Even when I’m sneezy? you ask him, and he chuckles. Yes, even when you’re sneezy.

His remark about coming to see you because he’d prefer to be here and not at the cafe with the rest of your friends is merely part of the truth. The rest of it is that he did genuinely want to check on you to make sure you were okay. Though to give this a voice felt like too much for someone typically so reserved in his feelings, but you understand perfectly fine as you smile softly. You’re appreciative of his actions, and it would seem Teruhashi had been right about them, for you murmur that he reminds you of the mochi you’re eating: You’re so sweet!

Grabbing your mug from the coffee table, you frown when you see it’s empty. “I ran out of tea.”

Saiki sets the spoon and now empty container back in the box then holds his hand out. You blink, momentarily confused, but when it registers what he’s doing, you give him the mug. As he stands to make his way into the kitchen, you call after him.

“Thank you!”

Having been to your house a number of times already, he knows where everything is and starts brewing a fresh cup of tea. You’ve turned the volume up on the television again, but you have to rewind to return of the spot you were at before he’d arrived. Once he comes back with a filled mug, instead of allowing it to continue to play, you pause your show.

You’d snuggled beneath the blankets and have to finagle your arms out of the multiple layers to take the mug from him. You say thanks again and blow gently at the tendrils of steam floating from it. The ceramic is warm in the palms of your hands and you sigh contentedly.

“Sorry I’m a little high maintenance today,” you apologize suddenly. “I’d make the tea myself but I just have such little energy…”

Saiki wishes you wouldn’t apologize because there’s nothing to be sorry for. So he tells you as much. Don’t apologize. Besides, he’d offered to make that tea, and if you wanted soup, he’d offer to make that too. He does understand where you come from, however. You tend to be more independent, opting to do things yourself, and you also know his propensity for being alone and needing space. As such, you’re careful not to be overbearing, and the idea of Saiki doing even little tasks like brewing you tea bothers you.

It’s endearing, the level of care you take to make sure he’s comfortable too, but when he says you’re far from high maintenance, he means it. You immediately understand what he’s implying and laugh before scooting closer and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Okay, point made,” you concede. With a small smile, Saiki grabs the remote you’d tossed down on the couch and presses play.

He would struggle to call you high maintenance on any day considering who your friends are. They’re loud and all over the place, practically bouncing off the walls. Life could hardly be tranquil when around them and their antics. It’s the total opposite of Saiki, who values calm and silence. If they were high maintenance, he was low maintenance. That’s the way he prefers to be, existing in relative quiet and as close to mediocrity as he can muster. But he can't say he’s opposed to the occasional interruption to the otherwise mundane, especially where it concerns you. You’re not to be found on one side or the other, but right in the middle, and to Saiki, you are just right.

#saiki k x reader #saiki k imagine #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo imagine #saiki k #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k.#bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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albakore · 3 years

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At the Salon

Synopsis: you and the boys getting your nails done

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe (gn!reader)

Warnings: none :D

A/N: ok so I’m just gonna say upfront that none of these are gonna be just flat out “they would never get their nails done” cause that’d be boring but I’m gonna include an ✨in-character reason✨ as to why I think they wouldn’t mind getting their nails painted

also, this is my first original post i guess! It’s nice to meet you all! ive been thinking about writing on and off for a while now but I didn’t know where to start. I kinda wrote this on a whim after getting my nails done. send in any requests or ideas so I can get my acc rolling :D

I was going to do Venti and Xiao too but I got bored so I’ll add them in a separate post if people want

Diluc

Ok so first and foremost is my beloved

If you enjoy getting your nails done he absolutely doesn’t mind taking you every few weeks or so.

Just because he isn’t exactly one to indulge himself in luxury doesn’t mean he feels like his lover shouldn’t either!

If it’s what you want then he’ll more than happily oblige

shameless self indulgence.. i just want to be spoiled by diluc

on some occasions when he’s able to make it to the salon with you, he’ll also get a manicure

some people might say “diluc would never get a manicure because he doesn’t care about his appearance!”

but i think it’s more like this: he gets manicures because he doesn’t care what other people think about his appearance

he cares more about comfort and practicality than fashion or looks

getting someone else to keep his nails trimmed and clean is more practical than trying to keep up with them himself

and damn is that massage chair comfortable

(whatever you do don’t imagine diluc laid back enjoying his massage chair with his eyes closed as he’s getting his nails filed.. the sigh of relief that would leave this man after weeks of stress have built up and he’s finally able to just relax with his s/o)

and it’s an excuse to spend time with you outside of his busy schedule

probably doesn’t ever get color.. i think he’ll stick to clear polish

maybe if you beg him enough he might get one or two of his nails painted to match whatever you get

but only if he likes whatever color you picked out

i feel like he’s not necessarily ashamed of having them painted or anything

because again, diluc really could not care less what other people think of him

it’s just not practical to have like hot pink nails or something. makes it hard to blend in to the darkness, as is necessary to attend to his nighttime duties

now that I’ve made it a point to say Diluc doesn’t care what people think:

he’d absolutely die if he ever ran into Kaeya or Jean or anyone he knew there

would def try to cover it up with indifference though

“(Y/N) and I come here often to keep our nails from getting damaged. There’s nothing strange about that.”

that won’t stop him from coming back again with you in a few weeks though

Kaeya

ok so Kaeya def gets his nails done on the regular. he probably has a schedule

like he’s going every 4 weeks on the dot with or without you

hates when his nails get long and start chipping or breaking

which is why he’s so uptight about his nail maintenance

so if you wanna go with him you better clear your schedule for whatever time and day he chooses cause he’s not taking any rain checks

also just gets clear polish most of the time

with that being said, I don’t think he’s above trying a new color every so often

the occasional blue, black, other neutrals or maybe even a silver if he’s feeling extra adventurous

keeps his nails short like Diluc, doesn’t get acrylics or anything super fancy

partially because long nails get in the way of his work

also i hc he used to bite his nails as a nervous habit when he was younger totally not projecting

(which is why he’s so serious about his nail salon schedule, having long/broken nails really makes the urge to bite them come back)

def knows his nail techs well. they all adore him

has his one “go to” nail tech who he gossips with

knows like all their life stories too? he’ll tell you afterward like “oh your nail tech is the one whose husband tried to leave her for another girl. she was telling me about how his mom called her and snitched on him-“

kaeya where do you find the brain capacity to store all this random trivia about people’s personal lives

Childe

loves going to the salon with you

he gets matching nail polish colors he’s not ashamed

for the same reason that he’d keep the polish on whenever Tonia or Teucer wanted to paint his nails

his adoration for you outshines whatever embarrassment he might’ve felt otherwise

if people ask him about his nails he’ll excitedly tell them about how he went to the salon with his s/o

and an excuse to tell anyone about his amazing s/o is a win in his book

also, loves the little reminder of you when he can’t be with you

he’s just out taking care of his own business and he catches sight of his nails and thinks of you <3

always pays for both of you of course. i’d expect nothing less from the ginger

it doesn’t matter if you get every service offered and the total ends up being crazy expensive

don’t even worry about it he’s already got his wallet ready 😌

the people at the salon love him because he gives like 40% tips

gets designs sometimes.. just little things he thinks are cool.

imagine him getting a little whale on his ring finger or smth

also probably got googly eyes or something once because he thought it was funny

“Mr. Zhongli, watch!” (shakes his hands so the eyes go all over the place)

most of the time he just sticks to basic colors because adding extra things gets old fast, and makes his gloves uncomfy

his fav colors to get are red and white

red because it reminds him of blood

and white because it reminds him of the snow in Snezhnaya :D

def takes you to fancy salons where they offer you wine and give you massages complimentary with your manicure

gets really upset when his nails chip. godspeed to the poor treasure hoarder he was sparring with who just accidentally knocked Childe’s hand in the wrong way

comes home and is immediately like “(Y/N) we need to make another appointment to get our nails redone! mine got messed up at work :( ”

ignore the blood on his shirt that is totally not related to his nails being chipped

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe #diluc #kaeya #childe x reader #childe headcanons #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons

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thestarrynightslover · 4 years

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The One He Got Right

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,700

Warnings: None. Just a crazy amount of fluff.

Summary: Jay and (y/n) have been dating for several months now, so, when his birthday comes up, the reader wants to throw him a surprise party.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Fluffy happy jay is my religion, that's all I'm gonna say. Also, I feel like the One Chicago universe could have a lot of surprise parties, so, if they won't give it to us, let's just indulge ourselves, right?

As always, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

“You know, babe, I was hoping you’d be able to get the Thursday off so that we could go out and have some fun, or just stay in and cuddle. You can choose.” Jay said whilst caressing your feet in his lap.

“While that does sound good, I’m not sure I can convince my boss to give me the time off on such short notice, Jay.” You confessed with a tired sigh. “But what’s so special about Thursday for Voight to give you a day off anyway? You didn’t mention any big cases lately…” You asked your boyfriend, not missing how he started to uncomfortably shift his position on the couch.

“Uh, he said I should take the day to myself because it’s my birthday. That’s why I was hoping-”

“What???” You asked him, sitting up straight, already buzzing with excitement. “It’s your birthday in four days and you didn’t tell me???” Jay just looked at you like you were crazy.

“Well, I’m telling you now. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal. I just figured that since I’m getting a rare day off, I’d spend it with the person I love…” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew what game he was playing. And, honestly, you didn’t really care, because you’d always loved birthdays and holidays in general. So, if you had a chance at being with Jay throughout his, you’d take it.

“Not that big of a deal? Who are you? The Grinch? Of course, it’s a big deal, babe!” Your excitement was almost tangible. “So, tell me, what is it you want us to do, hum? Is there gonna be a party? Wait a second, have you been party-planning without me this whole time?” Your boyfriend couldn’t understand how went from too grinny to too offended in two seconds like that.

“What? Party? No! No! Not at all, baby! I really just thought we could spend some quality time together, you know, without the possibility of me getting called in at any minute…" He told you and, all of the sudden, he looked exhausted, making you feel stupid for bombarding him with your craziness like that.

"Oh, okay… Look, I'm sorry I freaked out, babe. It's just that you're such an amazing boyfriend – and everything else, really –, so, when you said it's your birthday… Let me do something?" You asked, with what you considered to be your sweetest smile. At that, Jay started chuckling lightly.

"Well, I could let you do something, but your company is already gonna be much more than just something. And that's all I could possibly want from you, princess." How could you even try to resist that man?

"Okay. Then, uh, I'll get the day off, no matter what, but… I'm still doing something!" You said with a wicked smile.

"Oh, God. Fine, just don't exaggerate, okay?" Hearing that, you gave him a look.

"Right, right. Note to self: don't exaggerate." At that point, Jay decided to just give in, which was the best he could do, since your plan was already shaping up in your head. It was going to be a long four days…

The next morning, after leaving Jay’s place, you started calling people while walking to work. The first on your list was Herrmann because there was no party without a venue. And what better venue for your boyfriend’s birthday celebration than the very place where he liked to spend so much time?

“Hi, (y/n/n)! How you doing?” Christopher asked with his usual excited voice.

“Hey, Chirs! I’m great, how are you? And how are Cindy and the kids?” First things first: to convince the petty man to let you use his bar like that, you were gonna need to be your most charming self.

“Ah, we’re all good too, thanks for asking, kid! Listen, uh, how’s everything between you and Halstead? He hasn’t shown up at Molly’s in a while…” Normally that would have gotten you worried, but this time you knew that it was because of the demanding case his unit had closed last week and then because of how he was trying to spend most of his crazy free hours with you.

“Everything’s fine, really. The thing is that he’d been a little too busy with Intelligence’s latest case and then he was a bit tired in his free time, so we’d just spend the nights in… But thank you for the concern, Chris!” By that point of your relationship with Jay, you’d met pretty much everyone who hung out at the first responders’ bar (at least everyone who was friends with your boyfriend), and it was fair to say that they all had a lot of appreciation for you. Herrmann, for example, was always trying to look after you. Treating you like a daughter. And, as sweet as that was, you were about to use it to get him to give up Molly’s for the party. “So, um, you mentioned that we haven’t been to Molly’s much lately… How’s the business going?”

“Ah, (y/n/n), look at you! Always worrying about other people! The business is going well! But you know how these things are… Could always be better.” He told you, in that very Herrmann way, always thinking ahead and making growth plans.

“Yeah… Well, you know, Jay always tells me about how much he loves it there… How much that place and the people in it, especially you, mean to him…” You threw your bait. It wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. You knew how much all of that meant to Jay, he never even had to tell you about it.

“Really?” You could practically hear Herrmann’s grin through the phone. “I hope he knows that we all at 51, hell, at Molly’s, see him as family too! He’s such a good kid... ” Perfect. It was now or never.

“Speaking of him knowing how much he means to us, as you know that his birthday is coming up on Thursday, I was-”

“What??? His birthday? I, I, I, ah, I didn’t know that…” Another perfect strike for you.

“Well, then I guess that makes it a bit weird for me to ask you what I was about to…” God, it was moments like this that made you think that you could've been an actress.

“No! What?! Not at all, what was it?”

“I was wondering if you could give Molly’s up for a surprise party I wanna throw for him...�� You said, ripping the band-aid off, with your fingers crossed that the guilt-trip you tried to put him on would work its magic.

“Oh!” If only you could see him now! Split between wanting to show Jay how much he cared and the projections of how much he’d lose giving Molly’s up like that. “You know what? To the hell with it! Jay was one of our first regular customers and got us rid of that scumbag Arthur, so yeah! We’re doing that for him!” You wanted to scream at how perfectly your plan had worked out, but you stopped yourself as Herrmann said (for no one’s surprise): “But I’m not giving any free drinks to anyone!”

“Okay, okay, Chris.” You said laughing. “What you’re doing is enough help already! Thank you so much!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it! Just wish everyone would appreciate my gestures as much as you do, instead of complaining that I should be doing more…” At that point, you were laughing your ass off, as you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

“Okay, then I’ll let you know when and who’s gonna need the keys to set up the decoration and stuff.” You said whilst brushing the tears away from your eyes.

“Alright, (y/n/n), I gotta go now, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye.” One down, some more to go.

And that's how you spent your morning: completely ignoring your work, in between calls to put Jay's surprise party in motion. You put Stella, Severide, and whoever else wanted to help them in charge of the drinks. Sylvie and Chloe were on the cake. Adam and Kevin were taking care of the food, duly supervised by Kim and Hailey, as you knew they couldn't be trusted to not eat anything before the time. You let Maggie and Ethan in charge of the decoration, along with any more help they could get at Med. And Will and Platt were going to contact Jay's other friends. You were on the tricky assignment of keeping your boyfriend in the dark about all of that until it was Thursday night. While, also, overseeing everyone's work, because, well, you were the organizer!

To say that there were many bumps along the short period of time you had until the party was stating the obvious. Several times during those three days you got calls from Will, panicking over the fact that, every time he saw his brother, he felt an urge to scream 'Surprise!!!'. Seriously, after this party, Jay Halstead just couldn't let you out of his life, because the amount of energy it took to keep yourself from murdering his older brother... It was a clear show of love.

Still, everything went well and there were no murders. The Thursday morning came as quickly as you knew it would and, thankfully, everyone had their parts of the plan pretty much done. Which meant it was your time to shine: operation keep-the-detective-from-detecting had begun!

“So, today’s the day. Are you gonna tell me what is it that we’re doing?” Jay asked you with a soft smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course, detective. But only after we get you a proper birthday breakfast!” You told Jay while pulling him out of the apartment to go to this diner you knew he loved. When you got there, the orders were already waiting for you at your favorite table, and, being the silly bean he is, your boyfriend got pretty impressed by it.

“But, what?! How did you get them to do this? I thought they never took orders over the phone!”

“And they never do!” You confirmed with a wink, trying to hold back the laughter. Not that you could keep it inside any longer when his eyes landed on the personalized birthday wishes written on the pancakes. As much as he liked to act like a tough guy most of the time, at that moment he couldn’t help but let out his inner excited little boy.

“Oh my God! This is amazing! It’s so cute!” He beamed brightly.

“I know, I know. Now eat your breakfast, birthday boy!” You ordered with a fake look of annoyance on your face. But instead of just digging in on the food, like you’d told him to, he leaned in from across the table to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“The day barely even started and I already know that this is gonna be one of the best birthdays of my life!” He told you, as a genuinely happy smile took over his features.

“Well, then I’m glad I can be of service.” You said, and, like that, the day passed by. You wandered, hand-in-hand, the streets of a rare sunny Chicago, had lunch by the Riverwalk, went to the movie theater, and, finally, back to his place.

“Okay, today was amazing! But, I gotta admit, I’m a bit tired… So what do you say we open a bottle of wine, order some Italian, and cuddle our way into the night, hum?” Jay asked, already sitting on the couch with his phone in hand.

“I say a big colossal no!” Hearing that, he looked at you super confused. “Because I already told Will that we were gonna meet him for a couple of beers at Molly’s.” Instead of just sighing and standing up like you thought he’d do, your boyfriend narrowed his eyes to you, in a way that showed he got suspicious of something. “What?”

“We’re gonna meet Will at Molly’s? On my birthday?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No, nothing. It’s just that, coming from you and Will on my birthday,” shit! He emphasized the birthday part again, “that doesn’t sound like just a meetup for beers at Molly’s, that’s all.” Damn it, a thousand times damn it! Why did he have to be so good? And that stupid cocky smile he had on right now was still gonna be the death of you. Before you even said anything, you knew it wasn’t gonna be very convincing, given how useless your brain seemed to be at the moment. So you could only hope that he’d turn a blind eye and just go along with it when you said:

“Well, it is just a meetup at Molly’s. And, if you must know, I only agreed to it because Will spent all day blowing up my phone with texts, saying that I stole his baby brother from him on a date that you two should always spend together.” You lied, trying to put up an annoyed façade.

“Ah, well, if that’s the case, then let’s just stay here and ignore our phones.” Jay suggested with a shrug. He knew you were lying, damn it!

“No!” You answered a bit too quickly. “We, uh, we can’t do that! Because, first of all, it would be very douchy and, second, Will would be mad at me forever, and that can’t happen if I have any hopes of ever becoming a Halstead.” You didn’t even realize what you’d just said, until after it came out, but then it was too late to go back. He glued his eyes on you immediately, while you tried to hide your blushing face with your hands. “I can’t believe that I really just said that out loud.” You sorta-whispered shyly, never uncovering your face.

“Me neither…” He confessed with a huge grin, also going to remove your hands off your face with his. “Baby, I know I don’t say this much, because, as you know, words aren’t really my strongest suit, but I love you. And I, too, have real high hopes that you’ll become a Halstead someday.” He told you, making your eyes tear up.

“I love you too, babe.” You barely let it out before he pulled you in for a warm loving kiss.

“So, you say that a lot in your head, hum?” He asked with a smug smirk on his lips.

“Shut up, let’s just go.” You grunted, trying hard not to blush again.

“Do we really have to, though? You know Will doesn’t get to decide anything between us.” Jay tried to reason with you, apparently forgetting about his suspicions.

“I know, but we’re not bailing on him like this, Jay.” At that, he gave you an annoyed pouting look but eventually gave it up and headed to the bar with you.

Before you got out of the cab, you managed to, discretely, shoot Will a quick text, to let everyone know that you’d arrived. That way, as soon as Jay opened the door, letting you in first as usual, the mini crowd of guests shouted:

“Surprise!!!!!” You couldn’t help but break up in laughter when your boyfriend almost jumped back outside after the scare. Jay Halstead, the man who was always prepared for anything, got completely caught by surprise this time.

“Oh my God, guys, what the hell?” He asked with a shocked expression that just made everyone in the bar laugh hard, as they started reaching out to hug him and say their birthday wishes.

In the midst of all that, Jay saw you smiling shyly on a corner and immediately knew who was the mastermind behind it all. That made him think of how, when you came into his life, you were like a sunshine ray that never darkened, making his hardest days easier and better. And you were even more now.

Jay Halstead had definitely made a lot of wrong, shitty, decisions throughout his life. On both personal and professional levels, they’d gotten him a lot of heartache. But dating you was for sure the one he got right.

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #one shot #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead #baby jay #will halstead #christopher herrmann #fluff #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #surprise party #jay halstead fluff

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

Of Gorgons And Gardens

Fandom(s) : The Mandalorian and Prospect [2018]

Pairing: The Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader/Ezra

Rating: Holy shit uh. Explicit.

AN: That's right. I've done it. It's time for the sex pollen. This is a standalone that's not involved with either of my previous tales related to these fine boys, so we have a Death Watch-raised Mando that takes the Creed incredibly seriously and an Ezra that's well armed. Also I apologize for the constant viewpoint switches. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @hardcorewwetrash @helplessly-nonstop @lackofhonor @oloreaa @theocatkov @jackierey09 @zombiexbody @crookedmoonsaultpunk @pedrosbigdorkenergy @absurdthirst @culturalrebel

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For obligatory dubious consent due to sex pollen, as well as threesome activities, breeding kink and gratuitous bodily fluids. Stay safe!]

The quarry was named Ezra. Not that their name mattered, the chain code was freshly generated. The strangest part was that there had been no image attached to the puck.

Din had tipped his helmet to the side, narrowing his eyes and tapping the bounty puck curiously. "Somethin' wrong with this?"

Karga shook his head. "No, he's just too slick for us to have any holorecords on him. Somebody from Bakhroma wants him alive."

Undocumented quarry was exceptionally rare, and not usually something that one requested a Mandalorian for. It indicated green prey, a first-time offender. "Bakhroma, huh? Pretty far out." He wasn't an idiot. There had to be a reason why Karga had offered him this one specifically.

"Guy apparently walked off with a majority of someone's aurelac pull. Typical floater squabble, but one of them ponied up the mining points for credits and asked for a certified, card-carryin' Mando." Karga had leaned back in the booth. "How's the kid?"

Din had just grunted noncommittally in reply, gloved fingers scooping the puck off the table. "I have to get back to the Crest."

…

"The target has been on Bakhroma relatively recently. Not sure if he was in the Green or not, but either way he'll probably be a walking biohazard." Mando muttered, turning his head towards you. "So you're staying put."

"Until something happens to you and I have to pull you out of the fire again." You retorted with a smirk.

"Hey, that was one time." You knew he was narrowing his eyes, though you weren't quite sure how you knew. Something about the way he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right clued you in.

"You were full of nexu quills."

"One. Time." The Mandalorian growled. "I even said thank you."

"You sure did," You replied, laughing. "Right before you passed out!"

He palmed over the side of your head roughly. "Brat." His grumble was fond, softening the edge of the insult. "Promise me you'll stay on the Crest, Senaar, otherwise I'll ask Omera to take you and the kid for an extended sleepover."

"Fine, I promise." You relented, huffing in annoyance.

He tinkered with his charts for a moment, then tilted his head again. "Where did you go earlier? I got done with Karga hours ago. Couldn't find you."

You stiffened, abruptly absorbed in checking the fuel levels. "Oh you know. Around." You said breezily.

"Well in the future, when you feel like going around, at least let me know so I don't think you've been abducted." Mando grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Aw, you're cute when you care!" You cooed, making him scoff and return to his control panel.

…

In hindsight, he wasn't sure what he was more pissed off about. The fact that this Ezra character had led him on a wild fucking chase over half of a suspiciously verdant moon, or the fact that his brain had apparently decided to shift into overdrive regarding you. He couldn't get you off…

Get you off his mind, that is. Stars, he was so confused.

He felt like he had been walking in circles for hours, the only noise the steady beep of the tracker. He was too hot. Thirsty. His armor was chafing like it never had before; it was less like an extension of his body and more like a too-tight skin he needed to shed. Din finally bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"You look like shit," drawled an unfamiliar voice while a set of knuckles rapped on the back of his helmet. Djarin jerked upright and immediately staggered, fumbling to grip a tree trunk for support. His vision swam uncertainly, and he blinked several times in an effort to clear it.

The man in front of him was clad in a utilitarian suit that bore an unfamiliar logo, maybe a mining corporation. No duraplast or durasteel visible, no unnecessary frills, old-fashioned rubber gaskets to seal where glove met sleeve. Din's gaze traveled upwards, past the man's chest to his large domed helmet. He kept his motions deliberate. He had been caught off-guard by this man, but he wouldn't--

What?!

"I'll assume you're encroaching upon my solitude to haul my undesirable personage back into civilized spaces?" The man inquired after Din had taken several long seconds to try and understand what he was seeing. "For monetary compensation, if I had to hazard a guess. There are few lures that tempt a man so far out into the uncharted."

Why does he have my face? Sure, the scars were different. Different facial hair, different hairstyle, and a wild little tuft of blond sprang from amidst the dark locks at his hairline. But it was him. Same brown eyes, same nose, same mouth curving into an infuriatingly benign smirk. Djarin was struck with the sudden urge to punch him, his belly writhing.

"I take it the dust has you firm in its grip. A real pity, that. I'd love to sympathize, but regrettably I am at an advanced state of the same condition." The quarry gestured at his right arm, where a bloodstain blooming on the fabric of his suit indicated a loss of the integrity of said suit. "I'm Ezra, though I'm certain you're already well aware. And you?"

"Irrelevant." Din grated out, clumsy fingers fumbling to get his binders off his belt.

"A man of action, excellent! I shall acquiesce, but only because being removed from this Centaurian mass is infinitely better than being confined to it." Ezra replied with a sage nod, extending his wrists. "Whither to, my recalcitrant steerforth?"

"Be quiet." The Mandalorian grunted, his mind still reeling. How does he have my face? Then, a new, far more troubling thought occurred to him.

If he turned Ezra in, people would inadvertently know what he looked like. They wouldn't know, but they would know. What would that mean for him? For his dedication to the Creed? Did things like that count against him? Had something like this ever happened before?

"Tell me you, at the bare minimum, have functional transport?" Ezra asked after Din had relieved him of his blaster, sounding hopeful. It was so strange hearing his own voice with such an odd, imprecise cadence to it. The Mandalorian had worked for years to improve his Basic so that anyone and everyone would be able to understand him through the coarse modulator, though he still ended up sounding hitchy or curt most of the time.

"How else would I have gotten here?" Din snapped, gesturing the other man forward with the encouragement of his own weapon.

At least now he knew how to get back to the Crest, thank the Maker for his helmet and the tracking protocols he had. Now, observing his previous path of forward motion, he realized with a jolt how much it wound back and forth. He had been walking in circles.

Since when did he lose his sense of direction? Even in unknown territory, he usually had a damn good idea of which end was up. That concerned him.

And on top of everything else, Ezra wouldn't shut the hell up.

"Be quiet." Din muttered for what seemed like the thousandth time. How long had they been walking? Probably his own fault. With how much his head was spinning, he didn't dare deviate from the winding trail he had left. Even if a straight path would have been miles quicker.

Ezra continued to drone, "a toilsome marathon of carnage, I assure-"

"I said, be fucking quiet."

The target huffed out a breath, but obliged Djarin's terse demand for the moment. Din's head was pounding, his already short fuse shrinking with every word out of the talkative man's mouth. Was this the Maker's hysterically ironic way of compensating for how little a solitary Mandalorian would speak? Making a doppelganger that was ceaselessly chatty?

Din talked a lot more these days, between you and the kid. Maker, you. His head swam again and a low, guilty heat throbbed in his belly. You talking to him, the way your mouth moved around your words-

No. No, stop, he told himself sternly, two fingers sliding idly between the gasket and gorget at his throat just so he could breathe a little easier. This planet's air felt thick, like breathing through tar.

"I would not indulge that craving, were I you." Ezra spoke up, the man obviously watching him claw at his neck. "The less exposure you have, the better."

Din wanted to snap at him because honestly how many times do I have to say shut the fuck up-

But then he stopped. Since when did he even do things like breach the seal of his own fucking helmet on an unfamiliar planet?! He flinched, tearing his hand away and hating the low, wry chuckle that issued from the quarry. The other man mused, "It's already too late for me, you know. I imagine I'll have an hour, perhaps two."

"What the hell are you talking about now."

"The dust, my armored associate. It permeates. Sludges the mental processes." Ezra shrugged with only one shoulder. "Among other things."

"How do you know so much about it?" Din gritted his teeth against the buzzing pain in his stomach. "Seems pretty stupid of you to hide out here." Especially if you know the flora is deadly.

"There is naught to do on a freighter slingback aside from read." Ezra's eyes narrowed. "And I could hardly pick and choose which moon my pod decided to give out on, you monosyllabic knuckle-dragger."

"Watch your mouth before I break it." Din snarled.

"Lo and behold, he comprehends! I assumed all you knew how to say was a stagnant variation on the theme of be fucking quiet." Ezra retorted with enraging cheer.

Din's gloves creaked with the tension of his fists and he barely kept from slamming them into his temples. They were almost to the Crest. Almost. Once they got there, he would throw this mouthy nerf herder into the carbonite and…

And what? And turn him over? And inadvertently compromise his whole identity, possibly destroy decades of loyally obeying the Creed?

All the deprivation, the loneliness, the weakness of his own heart...

"Be fucking quiet." The Mandalorian muttered, knowing full well that the other man hadn't said anything. Be fucking quiet. Be fucking quiet quiet quiet just fucking be quiet--

Din ground the heels of his palms against the curve of his helmet at his forehead, praying for some kind of relief.

Carbonite, he reminded himself.

…

Ezra grudgingly held his tongue, which even he had to admit was a rarity. Unlike the other floaters that had approached him before and met their swift demise, this particular bounty hunter was heavily kitted. The gleaming plate he sported didn't seem to hinder his motion in the slightest.

Interesting.

Ezra knew when he had been outplayed, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't banking on the other man having a functional ship even before he decided to go peacefully.

The hunter (mentally dubbed Steerforth, he rudely had not introduced himself) obviously had no idea about the pollen, for all his outward preparedness. Clearly Serpentia was not as well known as Ezra had wished.

Regrettable.

He could hope that the bounty hunter hadn't been exposed, he mused. After all, the man was wearing that positively arresting helmet, and his suit seemed of a sturdy (if unfamiliar) weave. Here was an individual that Ezra would have to tread carefully around, if he wished to escape with his life.

His faith waned a bit as he recalled watching the man 'track' him, winding back and forth through the trees like a drunken mule until Ezra had taken pity on him and turned himself in.

The hunter was terse in his speech, likely weary from the chase. Ezra could sympathize, he was weary from running. It had almost been a relief when that last hunter had attacked him and forced him to crash the pod on this moon. Though his relief had quickly turned to dismay when Ezra had done a full turn outside his pod and realized just what was making all the pollen in the air.

Serpentia, Serpent's Tongue. He had never encountered the plant in the proverbial flesh, but once upon a time he had been accidentally doused with the extract when a holding tank had burst while he was on a job site.

His skin crawled as he remembered the torment that followed during his solitary confinement. He had been nigh-certain he would not recover, clawing free of the haze that had gripped him with the barest vestiges of his mental faculties.

This moon's Serpentia population seemed infinitely kinder than the concentrate he had encountered, if only for its soft, creeping approach. It lapped at the base of his brain, dulled the edge of his panic until he was nearly comfortable with the ache that licked hot in his groin.

But thank Kevva for this bounty hunter lumbering through the brush! With a little luck, Ezra would be able to persuade him to accept a few pearls of aurelac in lieu of dragging him back to face that greatly-exaggerated justice.

...

According to the limited information from the Crest's scans, the air on this moon was perfectly safe to breathe.

And if what Mando had said was right, he probably would need the ship to himself for a little while to decontaminate. So you had posted up beside the ramp once he had departed, occasionally wiping the sweat off your brow. The atmosphere was humid and you watched as breezes too delicate for you to even feel nudged the thick pollen in the air this way and that.

The moon was liberally coated with lush vegetation; just finding a place to safely land the Razor Crest had been a Herculean effort. You wondered vaguely if there was a lake or spring nearby that you would be able to cool off in. The ship's fresher was functional, of course, but its water had been sitting in the holding tank for a few cycles now and it smelled rusty.

The pollen covered everything, orange-red substance sticking to your already-damp skin. You grimaced, wondering if maybe you should have put on your suit. But no, the atmosphere was safe. The scans had said so, and you already spent so much of your time in your thick suit…

The sunshine felt wonderful after all the hyperspace travel, like a warm embrace from a friend. You caught yourself wondering what Mando's hug might feel like. Probably uncomfortable, what with all the beskar. You scoffed at your thoughts. You really needed to stop thinking about him like that, he was technically your boss even if he called you his partner. So what if he had passed out on top of you? That had been an infection thing.

It wasn't as if he had stroked your cheek before he dropped, his voice breaking when he called you Senaar...

So what if you had solicited not one, but two Mandalorians during your last stop on Nevarro?

It wasn't as if he noticed anything that you did, aside from when it had inconvenienced him. It wasn't as if you couldn't handle your little infatuation with him, even if it did result in you seeking out Mandos that would give you attention.

You propped your chin up on your hand, your eyes half-focusing on the dust floating in the air. It was nice to just relax for once, though there was a little guilty sensation in your stomach. Because Mando was out there working, while you...were lounging around, soaking up the sunlight.

You weren't sure how long you sat there, but you finally got up with a groan and a stretch that felt heavenly. You would investigate the surrounding area, you decided, maybe you could rustle up something fresh. If you couldn't be active on the hunt for the quarry, you could at least restock the larders.

After what only felt like a few steps, you quickly stumbled across thick vines that bore an unfamiliar, violet-hued fruit. The fruit was the size of your fist, and the skin had slight give to it. Light-colored flowers dotted the vine here and there, their tiny stamens crested with heavy crowns of thick pollen. Clearly you had located one of the many sources of the dust that choked the air.

You picked one of the fruits and propped it up on a flat rock, using your trusty field knife to slice it open. It had orange pulp inside it, and a small hollow in the middle filled with pinkish fluid. The whole fruit reminded you of a sunset. Dimly, you thought that you probably shouldn't be touching this fruit with your bare skin, on the off chance that it might be caustic or toxic. But it looked delicious.

Surely just a little taste wouldn't hurt?

The pinkish fluid was almost overwhelmingly sweet, and sticky. It dribbled down your chin when you tipped the fruit to slurp it up. You laughed at yourself, tugging your tunic to scrub at your face.

Mando will love these.

You weren't sure where the thought came from, but obviously it was true. The idea of Mando being alone, slipping off his helmet to eat...the juice from the fruit glistening on his mouth…

Your breathing had quickened. You carefully harvested more of the round fruit, tucking the ripe produce into the makeshift cradle of your tunic. Once you decided you had enough, you turned on your heel and went to make your way back to the Crest.

...

No.

No no no no no-

Din stared at the partially-ajar ramp on the Crest and he wanted to yell.

"Oh dear." Ezra murmured faintly. "What a predicament." He had been getting quieter and quieter the closer they drew to the ship, so hearing him talk again sent a jolt down Din's spine. "You left your egress open? How careless of you."

"I didn't." Din snarled, wrapping his fingers around the binders on Ezra's wrists. You. The throbbing in his stomach lurched.

Ezra's eyes widened and he abruptly planted his feet. Din hadn't realized just how off-kilter he was, normally something like a shift in weight wouldn't be enough to make him stagger. But he almost toppled, barely getting his balance back in time. "Is there someone else on that ship?" Ezra asked sharply.

"Of course." Din didn't even think to lie. "Partner."

"Would they have wandered? Exposed themselves?" The prospector-thief-quarry continued to quiz him and Din resented it just a little.

"Be quiet," He grunted, tapping at his gauntlet to open the ramp, "and get in the fucking hold."

Ezra abruptly drew himself up to his full height. "I do not believe you actually want me to do that." He intoned with difficulty, his teeth gritted. "Putting myself, yourself and the potential of one more infected person into an enclosed space is a very…" His words faltered. "Oh."

Din whirled, visor traveling up the ramp into the dim hold. And just barely visible at the edge of the ramp, a small pile of what looked like fruit--was that your leg?! He lunged forward, his blaster ready.

"I would not advise you to approach them!" Ezra barked.

"Fuck you!" Din snapped, striding up the ramp to kneel alongside your body. He crushed one of the fruits beneath his knee, lurid pink juice erupting to soak into his suit. The color was high in your cheeks, your body blotchy with flush. Pollen encrusted your neck and shoulders, drifted through your hair; something pink and shiny coated your lips like a strange gloss.

Din caught himself leaning in and jerked back at the urgency in Ezra's voice when the prospector called, "Do they breathe, man?"

"Be quiet!" Djarin roared. Why hadn't he checked that first? What was wrong with him? He shoved his vambrace against your mouth, his chest clenching in relief when your breath fogged the metal. Stars.

"I'm afraid this complicates things quite significantly." Ezra said loudly, fidgeting at the base of the ramp. "I was unaware you had a partner of the...other biological persuasion. Had it just been you and I, two masculine-presenting bipeds, things would have been miles simpler."

"What the hell are you saying now?" Din was getting tired of this shit, tired of listening to the other man talk.

"This plant is...shall we say, heteronormative." Ezra drawled, waving his bound hands in the air to illustrate the cloying pollen. Din cocked his head in confusion. "You know, masculine and feminine? Male and female? Different. Hetero."

Djarin scoffed derisively. "My people don't care about that shit."

"A noble practice to be certain, very forward-thinking."

"This is the Way." The Mandalorian replied.

Ezra soldiered on, "Unfortunately, the plant that infests this planet does indeed differentiate. Fruit for the female, pollen for the male." He added hurriedly, "in the biological sense, of course! I will not make any assumptions about your partner. The fruit is a...a catalyst. Are you familiar with the old-Earth religious writings, the ones that mention the Garden? Or perhaps the Greek pantheon may have been more your style?" When Djarin shook his head, Ezra sighed. "The genus name in Basic is slippin' my mind. But this particular iteration is known as Serpent's Tongue, Serpentia. It is Medusine in nature and it inspires feelings of…" Ezra paused, licking his lips nervously. "Heat."

"Heat." Din repeated blankly, knowing that he must be missing something.

Ezra ducked his head, breaking eye contact. "As in, being in heat." The man clarified after a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm-"

"Excuse me?" Din snarled, running his fingers through the juices that coated his knee. It was thick, sticky like syrup, why was it warm--He bolted to his feet and stalked back down the ramp. Ezra took a step back, and then another, the quarry obviously wary of him. Good. The satisfied feeling took some of the edge off his frustrated panic. "So what the hell is wrong with my partner?" Din grated out.

"Er, to couch it in layman's terms…" Ezra hesitated, clearing his throat. "They are aroused."

Aroused. Aroused. Aroused. "Sexually?" Din hated the way the word came out, all breathy like he was a youngling that had just learned about the wonders of copulation.

Ezra nodded, grimacing. "From the sound of your tone, I would hazard a guess that the two of you have not been intimate."

"Why would we have been?" Din retorted bluntly.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, seeming as if he was avoiding looking at you. Good. Mine. Din had no idea where the hell that thought came from. "Oh of course, I was foolish to assume so blatantly." The prospector muttered. "That does complicate your own matters further, however. Were you previously sexually intertwined, this would have been much more simple." He suddenly doubled over at the waist, a loud grunt forced from his mouth and a low exclamation of, "fuck, fuck-"

The curse sent a hot flicker down Din's spine and it took him a second to realize that you had made a noise in reply. You sounded dazed, scared. He whirled on the ramp and knelt again, taking your hand. "Senaar, you coming around?" Your eyes looked...wrong, blinking open slowly; your pupils were blown like you'd been spiced.

You stared up at him for several long seconds before your mouth opened. "Wanted to make lunch." You managed to say. "I don't feel good."

"Well, you don't look so great either." Din said gruffly.

"Bastard." You groaned at him, trying to sit up. "Maker, I feel so hot, I...oh! Oh no, you smushed one." You appeared to have noticed the remains of the sticky fruit currently seeping into his knee. "I wanted you to try it. Tastes...tastes...it's so sweet Mando, s'like candy." You saying his name (even if it wasn't his actual name, shit) was like a lightning bolt to his groin. You dragged your hand over his knee, gathering up the remnants of the fruit and then sliding your fingers into your mouth.

You brought him food. His lungs felt too full and not full enough. Stars, the idea of you feeding him that, smearing it all over his mouth with those pretty little fingers-

No, the helmet. The helmet. He couldn't take off the helmet. The Creed.

He jerked his head up, looking to Ezra. The other man was still doubled over, holding his midsection as best as he could with his hands bound.

A dark, uncharacteristically evil thought wound its way into Din's mind, sweet and smokey like a good ne'tra gal. "Get in the ship." He grunted. Ezra glanced up and Din was a little startled by the level of emotion he displayed. He wasn't used to seeing expressions play out on his own face. The other man seemed wildly uncomfortable and Din found that grounding, for whatever reason.

"I do not dare to." Ezra panted finally. "Just being this close is...immensely troubling. I am not the master of my own body at this moment, Steerforth."

"Is this the target?" You asked softly. Din nodded and he could almost feel your eyes raking over the other man. "What happened? He's hurt."

Shit, he had nearly forgotten. Ezra was still bleeding from his arm. The quarry had obviously forgotten as well, clearly dealing with a much more pressing matter.

You beckoned to the other man and Din had to rein in the knee-jerk reaction to grab his blaster as Ezra reluctantly approached. He had never been territorial about you before, what the hell was the matter with him?

Ezra halted a good five feet away from you, keeping his head down. "I am Ezra. I apologize in advance for my untoward behavior." He muttered, his voice gone so low and gravelly he actually did sound like Din. The Mandalorian's stomach pitched uncertainly. "I am not myself at this point in time."

"What happened to your arm?" Your tone was warm, concerned. Din's fists clenched. "Did Mando do that?"

"Oh, no! Of course not. Your compatriot has been nothing if not a complete gentleman." Ezra replied wryly. "I sustained this injury during a previous floater's quarrel."

…

You hummed and you saw Mando stiffen up out of the corner of your eye. What was wrong with him? One second he had been leaning over you, all worry and hand holding. The next, he was barking at the quarry.

And the quarry was hurt. Ezra, Ezra, his slow drawl making your head swim and your chest tingle. Never mind Mando, what was wrong with you? You felt so strange, like you were hyper-fixated.

Maker, maybe you shouldn't have eaten that fruit. "I'm sorry." You apologized to Mando, your lower lip beginning to quiver. "I just wanted to give-"

"Be quiet." He ordered, his voice startlingly gentle. A gloved thumb pressed to your lower lip and you stared up at him, opening your mouth automatically even though you knew he was just wiping the juice away. You were startled when he slid his thumb into your mouth, but you obligingly cleaned the juice from the leather with your tongue. Shouldn't this be strange? But Mando just did it, like it was normal. Maybe it was normal.

Your mind flew back to your sultry encounter on Nevarro, how you had occupied yourself while Mando wrapped up his business with the Guild, and warmth lanced through your stomach as you recalled greedy gloved hands grasping and caressing your bare skin-

"Steerforth, if you are to carry on in that heated demonstration I must plead for the carbonite treatment that you were so hellbent on throwing myself into earlier." Ezra sounded like he was in pain. "I have only endured this once before and it was a torment that threatened my already-tenuous sanity. Have fucking mercy man, I implore-"

"Be quiet." Mando snapped, "we have to treat your arm, right?"

"Fuck." Ezra swore again, the sound writhing through your belly. "Hurry then."

"Get in the ship. I'll turn on the filters."

"Do not leave me alone with them, I implore you!" Ezra cried, that domed helmet finally tilting enough for you to catch a glimpse of his face. "I am not the master of my own body, Steerforth."

His eyes were dark, impossibly dark, and frantic as he argued with Mando. His skin seemed tanned or olive through the sun-struck dome of his suit's helmet. Short brown hair was plastered flat to his forehead with sweat, and the lower half of his face was coated in a somewhat unkempt mess of facial scruff. Too long to be five o'clock shadow, but too bedraggled to be dubbed anything else.

Roguish, you decided, wanting to laugh at yourself. He looks roguish. What a ridiculous thought to have! Not obviously dangerous like Mando, but still dangerous. Was that your heartbeat throbbing in your ears? You sighed softly, taking a step towards the other man without meaning to.

Mando's hand was suddenly on your arm. "Hold it. Treatment. We have to treat his wound." He said gruffly.

You nodded. Of course. Who knew what he had been exposed to through the breach in his suit? "I was going to help him walk?"

Mando shook his head. "You get the kit. You've got no gear on. He's contaminated." He reasoned. "Get me the kit and then seal yourself into the cockpit so we can filter the hold." You nodded again and his hand found your cheek, gloved fingers grazing your neck before he jerked back. "S...Sorry." he apologized.

"It's okay." You whispered.

…

Ezra, helmet discarded and suit stripped to the waist, flinched away from Din's touch yet again. "Stop. This is a bad wound. It'll get infected if I do this wrong." Din snapped. He rarely encountered blaster wounds that didn't self-cauterize, even though that tended to come with its own set of problems.

"I do not mean to tear free." Ezra protested. "Blood flow has increased. I am…" He paused, biting his lower lip. "Sensitive. Surely you have a handheld? One of the burners? Just burn it shut man, Kevva, I cannot even endure the graze of your fingers."

"If I give you a burner patch, it'll seal in the infection." Din reasoned, flushing the wound again. "Focus on something else."

"I cannot." Ezra said sharply. "There is only one matter my brain currently wishes to focus on, and it is not the dire straits of my wounded arm."

"Them?" Din asked, keeping his voice low.

Ezra shot him a guilty look from beneath his sweat-matted fringe of brown hair, finally nodding. "It is ludicrous, but I feel as though I can taste them." He confessed. "Gods, I wish I had never landed on this accursed moon. I wish I had never encountered the Serpentia."

"What will happen?" Din did his best to maintain his vocal level as he bandaged the other man's wound.

"Arousal. Sheer, unadulterated arousal. You ache, like the worst fever you've ever had. I've heard it is even more excruciatin' for those of the other human biological persuasion, due to their genitals being internal. Though it is Medusine in nature, so it has a...failsafe, of sorts. You are seized with the primal instinct to mate, conquer, claim. It does not stop until you have buried your...until you have sheathed yourself in an orifice." Ezra was gasping for air. Obviously just talking about it was enough to cause him distress, either that or Djarin was being rougher than he thought. "Steerforth please, I-"

"This will cause them pain?" Din asked slowly.

Ezra nodded jerkily. "I have been told it's like a sickly, stabbing heat. Fingers are not enough to…er, extinguish the flames." His cheeks flushed. "The tongue soothes, but not overlong. Internals require certain length, and...rigidity." Din didn't miss the way his eyes flickered down to the beskar that covered his upper thighs. "When last I encountered this damned flora, I suffered the effects alone and I felt as if I would go mad."

Tongue. Fingers. Rigidity. Din's mind reeled. "Specifics." He gritted out, his body awash with heat in his armor when Ezra made a pitiful noise.

"Kevva, have mercy on me Steerforth."

"I said. Specifics." Din fisted a glove in the other man's hair, tilting his head back and forcing him to look up. Ezra moved, albeit reluctantly, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing when he swallowed. "Specifics." Din repeated himself, a little softer this time.

Ezra shuddered all over. "They will seek you out. To be fucked." He said, cringing a bit as if he disliked using the word. "You must open them up with your tongue first, dissolve the Medusine barrier with saliva. That's the failsafe, you see, an individual of that biological persuasion who is suffering cannot be penetrated without tender effort. Ease into it and perhaps they will not loathe you when this madness has run its course-"

"I can't." Din interrupted.

"What?" Ezra gawked at him.

"I can't. T-Tongue. Not allowed. Forbidden." Din felt like he was drunk. "Helmet."

The other man's brow furrowed. "You can, I presume, take off other portions of your plate?"

Din shook his head, wishing that he could explain it better. "Technically yes, but it's frowned upon. Exceptions happen. And under no circumstances can I take the helmet off."

"How in the Fringe have you ever-"

"I...inspire feelings in people." That was probably the most delicate way he could have said I cater exclusively to bipeds with a predator/prey fetish. Din grimaced. "I'm large and imposing. Usually that's...enough. No need for warm up." He said awkwardly. "Armor stays on."

"What a bewildering existence!" Ezra tilted his head in disbelief. "So you have never removed…?"

Din shook his head. "Not in the presence of others. The Creed forbids it."

"Your dedication is admirable, but unfortunately it leaves your partner twisting in the wind." The quarry pointed out. "I would offer my services, but I am an unknown and-"

"Yes." Din gritted out, that dark thought slithering back through his mind.

"Yes?"

"Your services." Din took a deep breath. He didn't bargain with quarry, but this man had his face. He couldn't turn him in without jeopardizing everything he had sworn his life to. "In exchange, when this is...when they no longer require your services, I'll let you go."

Ezra's eyebrows bunched together. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Steerforth."

"I don't want them to be in pain." Din's voice grated in his throat and he watched Ezra's eyes widen in comprehension. "I don't want them to hurt."

"You...this is not just the Serpentia. You have a prior attachment to them."

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't have." Djarin muttered dismissively. "Because of the Creed, I...I can't. But you can."

"You can't give them your mouth, certainly, but there are-"

"If it's what makes it possible, you have to do it!" Din interjected sharply. "I don't want them to hurt."

"I need you to comprehend what you're askin' of me!" Ezra shot back, his bound fists clenched tight enough to whiten his knuckles. "They don't know me from Job, and you're all but demanding I violate their trust-"

"I don't want them to hurt!" Din roared, startling himself with his own furious reaction. Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by your staggering descent on the ladder. You looked unwell. Ezra skittered back a few steps, falling on his ass with a muffled swear.

"Mando?" Your voice wavered and you swayed at the ladder. Din lurched forward, tucking you into his arms as you sniffled, "I don't feel so good. I think I'm sick." You were radiating heat that he could feel even through his suit. Your tunic was soaked with sweat.

"Osi'kyr." Din cursed under his breath after he swapped to his infrared and saw just how brilliant your signature was. "Listen to me, alright Senaar?" He murmured, simultaneously loving and hating the way you nodded in a docile manner. "We know what can fix this. But it's not…" he paused, searching for the right term.

"Appropriate." Ezra supplied loudly.

"I feel awful." Your whimper made Din's stomach ache. His cock rubbed against the confines of his compression leggings.

Ignore it.

"I know you do." Din pressed his palm to your forehead. "Listen to me. We can fix this. You trust me, right?" Your nod was immediate and Din barely stifled his groan. "Ezra knows what's wrong. Ezra can help."

"He can help?" You echoed blearily, looking past Din. "Okay. He said something about the fruit before, right? I shouldn't have eaten it. M'sorry. Was it poison?"

"Poison may have been simpler to endure." Ezra muttered. "It is an aphrodisiac. Do not blame yourself. The fruit is visually appealing for a reason, otherwise the plant would not be able to propagate."

…

Aphrodisiac. Your mouth was flooded with that sweet taste at the sound of Ezra's drawling voice, the groan that followed burrowing into your blood.

You had never felt this way before. Your body ached and twisted, arousal pooling uncomfortably in your pelvis. Everything felt like it was trapped, your tunic sticking to your skin with sweat. Aphrodisiac.

"Please pay attention." Ezra sighed. "I understand this is incredibly distracting, but I have a limited window of coherence." He was trembling slightly, still avoiding your eyes. "Your partner has requested I aid you where he cannot. I will not harm you." He said with gravity. "This is a situation which bodes exceptionally poorly and I am...I am truly sorry for dragging you into this mess."

"Oh, it's okay. Mando gets me into messes all the time." You brushed off his apology and Ezra choked out a bitter laugh.

"I fear you may change your tune once the pain truly starts." He remarked.

"He says it'll hurt." Mando murmured. "Like stabbing."

You knew your eyes widened with fear because Mando was quick to envelope you in his arms again. He had never been this touchy before. It was...strangely nice. The coolness of his armor felt wonderful on your skin and you moaned in relief. Mando went stiff at your noise, his gloved fingers clutching the nape of your neck. Up until this point, you had just felt some minor throbbing. Distracting, but negligible.

This was different.

...

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fists curled into his suit, knees buckling as a low, wavering cry left your lips. Din jerked at the sound. He had never heard you make that kind of noise before, not even when you had been shot--

Oh he was fucked. He was so fucked. Was he excited or terrified? "Easy, you're okay, you're okay," he soothed, clumsily brushing the hair back from your face. Who was he even trying to convince?!

"Make your choice expediently, Steerforth. Am I to be thrown in carbonite or put to work?" Ezra queried through gritted teeth.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you." Din said to you, ignoring the other man for the moment. "I won't let anything happen to you. I need you to trust me for right now, alright? We can fix this."

Your grip on him tightened even further. "I don't like how this feels." You whispered.

Din closed his eyes in a futile attempt to ward off his own self-loathing, pressing your cheek against his breastplate. "I know, Senaar. I'll be right here with you. I just...can't give you what you'll need." He stuttered, offering on a desperate whim, "I-I can hold you, if you want." You nodded frantically into his armor.

"If you have a...a blanket. A sheet. Something for the floor, we are going to make a mess and I am uncertain if we will be able to protect your partner's modesty." Ezra muttered, his bound hands resting surreptitiously over his groin. "They may be more enthusiastic than one would anticipate."

Din patted your elbow, trying to gentle his voice. "Go get your pillow."

"O-Okay." You gulped.

Din tore into one of his many lockers once you released him, the armored man frantically digging around for his extra bedding. Ezra staggered to his feet, moving in close to Din. So that you wouldn't hear him speak, no doubt.

"There is still time for you to freeze me, Steerforth. I am not a man without morality, tattered though it may be." He murmured, and Din noticed that his weary brown eyes were surrounded by the same deep lines and cracks that Djarin's own face sported. The Mandalorian hadn't ever paid much mind to just how many expressions he still made beneath the helmet, probably because he knew no one would see them.

Din grabbed the other man's shoulder, searching those eyes. Ezra stared at his impenetrable visor, probably confused by his silence. "I need your help." Din rasped seriously. He didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him, but he could live with the uneasy truce if it would…if it meant that he could…

Stars, this was all so damn wrong.

Ezra finally nodded. "I will do my best to assist with the...emotional aftermath. This is not your fault, or theirs. This is merely an unfortunate side effect of a hazardous occupation."

"Thank you."

Ezra's eyebrows shot up, but other than that he gave no indication of his surprise. Din elbowed him to the side, unfolding the thick blanket and spreading it out carefully on the floor of the hold.

…

This was certainly an odd predicament.

Ezra could not say he had ever been in such a charged scenario, despite his checkered history. His jaw worked thoughtfully as he watched the armored man devote an obscene amount of care to smoothing the wrinkles out of his blanket.

Arousal swirled around him like the thick pollen outside, but it was tempered by the terrible memory of that singular past experience where he had rubbed himself bloody on the inside of his suit. He knew he was worse off than Steerforth. No, what had you called him? Mando.

Curious.

A Creed that prevented the devout from showing the world their face.

Curious. And familiar, somehow. Ezra spooled his mind back, trying to recall why it was familiar. He couldn't focus however, his own breathing becoming too distracting.

Mando hadn't gotten nearly as much of the pollen as him. The other man seemed unbearably, impossibly calm in the light of what was about to occur. Maybe it was an illusion afforded by that unreadable helm, or brought about by his lack of prior experience.

Ezra was wildly jealous all the same. "What is their name?" He asked softly.

Mando fixed him with a look and Kevva, that helmet was indeed imposing. "I call them Senaar. It...it means bird." He sounded reluctant, like he didn't even want to give up that much. "Names are sacred in the Creed. I couldn't give them mine so they didn't give me theirs, but I had to call them something."

"No names in the Creed, either?" Ezra asked incredulously.

The armored man shook his head. "To outsiders we are all Mando. To us, we are Mando'ade. This is the Way."

"A veritable legion of nameless, featureless warriors." Ezra muttered, mainly to himself. He rattled his restraints after a moment. "Am I to remain bound during this frotfest, Steerforth?"

"I'm not stupid enough to give you free range. Be grateful I didn't secure them behind your back instead." Mando snarked.

"I will not harm your little bird." Ezra protested.

"I know." Mando leaned in slightly, broad shoulders made even more intimidating by the blue-steel pauldrons that graced them. "I would kill you before you got the chance."

Oh, such confidence! Ezra wished he was in his right mind, he would obliterate this smug cretin--

His breath caught in his throat as you returned from your excursion. Gods, he had nearly forgotten what he was being called to do. He warred with the obscene urge that dragged his gaze to the crux of your thighs. "A divine sight." He murmured, not lying for once. This entire day had been remarkably truthful.

You actually gave him a ribald wink, and that eased his conscience slightly. Perhaps you were not the unsullied, blushing virgin he had feared you might be. Obviously you had used the time you took to grab your pillow wisely, maybe even given yourself a bit of a pep talk.

"Have you done this before?" Ezra asked, half-joking. He heard Mando audibly gulp in that damn bucket when you nodded, a pained smile curving your lips. "Not under the effects of such altering substances, I pray?"

"Nah, nothing like that." You replied, shaking your head. "It was back on Nevarro, I-"

"Nevarro?" Mando hissed. "You disappeared on me for hours. That's what you were up to?!"

You shrugged weakly. "It doesn't really matter but...there were two Mandalorians, and I wanted, um, something that seemed familiar, I guess." You admitted, your tone remarkably cool for the subject matter.

Ezra hid his grin. He was hardly immune to the allure of saucy gossip, and there was nothing quite like gossip that had no particular bearing on him. "Two?!" The armored man's voice squeaked even through the thick modulation and Ezra burst out laughing, the binders knocking his jaw when he tried to stifle his mirth.

"I meant more whether you had engaged in copulation in general, but I suppose that would have been a pertinent question as well." He mused once he got himself under control, the low buzz in his stomach blossoming into an excited thrum. "How fortunate that you would be so generous when it comes to your partners, little bird."

"What do you mean, familiar?" Mando carried on over him, obviously agitated by the fresh knowledge that his partner may or may not have some...tendencies. Ezra almost wanted to laugh again; you were nothing if not painfully transparent. Seeking out others like the armored man to have their way with you? Clearly you harbored some sort of affection, kept secret and safe by the walls that humans build around themselves.

But Serpentia had a funny way of sliding that dastardly pink slick through all defenses, leaving the body raw and exposed.

"I mean familiar." You replied, your pillow like a shield between yourself and Mando. Ezra settled back to watch the show, well aware that his smirk was probably insufferable. "I have needs, you know." You continued primly.

Mando's fists clenched on his thighs before he pointedly flattened them back out, fingers dragging over the plates. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't...I'm sorry." He mumbled, patting his leg.

You wavered again and nearly fell. The armored man caught you, settling you down with a cautious tenderness that fired a thrower shot of arousal directly into Ezra's gut. He had always been a weak fool for chivalry, though he was able to display precious little of it in his own life. Oh, this was the best kind of story.

...

Your face burned with embarrassment; why had you told him about your rendezvous with two other members of his Creed? It was like the words just fell out of your mouth, like your brain itself was against you.

You could still remember the way the larger one had pressed his forehead to your own and then encouraged you down his chest to his groin, the way his helmet had tipped back--

A new flood of warmth swept into your cunt and you bit down on your hand to stifle your noise at the pain that followed. Mando paused, then laid your pillow between his open legs. "Lay down on your back." He muttered, patting his leg again. "This way you can see me. I'll be right here."

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize, please." Mando cut you off. "Once this is over, once everything is...over, I...listen, we'll operate as a sealed unit. This maneuver is scrubbed from the start. I never found the quarry. Nothing that we say or do here will ever be mentioned again. Understood?"

Your breath caught in your throat. He was giving you an out. Or himself, you were uncertain. You nodded slowly and his shoulders drooped a little, but whether he was relieved or disappointed…

Well, some secrets were meant to stay that way.

Ezra nodded his own agreement. "It is best to have certain protocol already in place when engaging in uncharted waters." He muttered. "Decidedly militant, but I must surmise your Creed taught you that."

"This is the Way." Mando said firmly.

"If we are operating under burner infantry orders, then I must voice my trepidation about this engagement," Ezra confessed to you. "I have endured this crisis once before and it was not a pleasant experience. I do not envy the pain I am certain you feel at this moment, but I also know that you are in a...compromised and sensitive position. I...if any advance is unwanted, I trust you will inform me. And if I do not respond, if I am too far gone, please have your associate rescind my invitation." He gestured at Mando with his bound hands.

"Wh-What are you going to do to me?" You asked, your voice high in your ears even as you let Mando maneuver you down to the blanket.

"I am going to do for you what your companion cannot, little bird." Ezra's tongue dampened his lips nervously. "And only that, if I understand the situation correctly."

"What he…" you trailed off as a thought occurred to you. Ezra hummed quietly as if to confirm and the sound reverberated through your core, making you whine and squirm restlessly. "Oh, what, stars, you mean-"

"My mouth, little bird." He had a tiny section of blond hair on the right side of his head, the tuft residing rakishly just at his hairline. You hadn't noticed until now, but the whimsical little patch seemed to soften his stern features. "You will need the saliva, regrettably. I am certain that the idea of the mouth of a lowly aurelac harvester on you is a repulsive one, but it is the only way to get the proverbial ball rolling."

"Wait, you have to eat me out?" You asked in confusion, trying to get back up. "Hang on, I should shower, I'll-" Agony raked down your spine and you spasmed, a breathy sound of pain forcing itself past your lips.

Ezra's incredulous chuckle soothed the sensation back down to a manageable level. "What an unexpected offer, little bird! I cannot recall the last time someone bathed specifically for me. You will wholly ensnare me if you continue such considerate behavior."

…

Din's body felt like it was on fire in his armor.

You had gone looking for people like him.

You had gone looking for Mandos because you wanted familiarity. The idea of you sussing out more of his brothers or sisters because you had needs-

Din wasn't sure if he would survive this particular encounter. He was gripping his cuisses so tightly that the leather of his gloves burned against his fingertips. Mandalorians weren't celibate by any stretch of the imagination, but the Creed could make things...more difficult than they needed to be for a variety of species.

Ezra, despite his hands being bound, was remarkably capable. The man had coached you through the pain when you had tried to move, his voice obviously helping you somehow. Djarin wasn't sure if he was jealous or grateful. Maybe both.

The fact that this was causing you to suffer had him loathing how stiff his cock was in his compression leggings, even though from what he had gathered he couldn't actually help that particular reaction.

"I must beg your assistance in disrobing." Ezra was saying softly, tugging at the overly-knotted waistband of your loose pants. "Please, little bird."

"Right, yeah, of course." You mumbled and Djarin could hear the pain in your voice, could feel the twitchy little flinches as you tried to follow Ezra's directions.

Hesitantly, the Mandalorian moved his hands up until they rested on your shoulders. You exhaled a breathy little moan, nuzzling your cheek against his glove in what he had to assume was thanks.

"Better." You gasped, seeming more sure as you struggled to undo the sash at your waist.

"Well done, Steerforth." Ezra praised, causing something warm and wet to pour into Din's abdomen. The armored man's breathing stuttered, was this what Ezra had been feeling the entire time they had been walking? Stars, how had he even managed-

His cock lurched against the tight hold of his leggings, precome dampening his stomach. Without meaning to, Din's fingers tightened on your shoulders and he grunted quietly.

Your eyes shot up, locking with his visor. He knew you couldn't actually see him, but at that moment he felt exposed. "You alright?" You asked quietly, your breath hiccuping when Ezra brushed the stubble of his jaw against your naked thigh. Din ached to do that himself, Maker he wished-

"I'm fine." He choked, like he wasn't roasting alive from the double-edged heat of artificial arousal and jealousy. His left hand slid down, resting at the hollow of your throat. It soothed his ego a little to see that your eyes were still on him, despite what the quarry was about to do.

Ezra, he reminded himself. This man wasn't prey anymore, for all that he was keeping the binders on. Din at least needed that level of control. He needed the stability.

That recurrent devious thought surged forward again, dark and heady. Utilizing Ezra, he could indulge vicariously in the hazy desires he had fought for cycles. The wish to bury his face between your legs and eat you out until you cried, like in the raunchy imagecasts he picked up on rare occasion. Putting his bare hands on you, stars-

Din Djarin was a man of extreme self-control. So far, he hadn't overstepped or shamed the Creed, unless you counted the time he was loaded out of his mind with bacteria-laden quills. He hadn't realized just how many of them were embedded in his back until his vision started getting blurry as he was standing over the nexu's dead body. Served him right for letting the feline get the drop on him before he put his backplate on.

You had been so worried when he returned. You were patched into his coms so you obviously heard the struggle he had dispatching the creature. Heard how ragged his breath got and how hard he had to actually fight.

Din vaguely remembered flopping down on his belly with you hovering over him, pliers in one hand and bacta shot already buried in the meat of his shoulder. Stars, it was great to have a partner sometimes. If he had come back to just the kid like that, he'd probably be dead from an infection. You didn't even make him take off his suit, you just worked around it.

You ended up removing thirty-seven quills of various lengths, most of them bearing nasty hooked barbs. The pain had hit different because of the infection, leaving Djarin trembling boneless and silent on the floor of the hold while you wriggled quills out of his back. He had never felt more helpless, more vulnerable, beskar be damned.

"It's alright. I'm glad you made it back." You had said calmly. "I'm not letting you go alone next time, though."

"Thank you, Senaar…"

Din's face flushed when he recalled how badly his voice had cracked when saying the name he called you by, less speech and more a plaintive cry. The way his glove had slipped over the skin of your cheek, and how he had longed to remove that glove...

Maker, he sullied the Creed with his inability to reconcile over lack of touch. The hunger for skin-to-skin contact that reared its ugly head every time you were out of your heavy exosuit and durasteel served as a painful reminder, one much more poignant than the simple weight of his helm, that he was a Mandalorian.

But this doppelganger loophole was a gift to be thoroughly exploited and he wasn't about to waste that opportunity.

Ezra buried his face between your legs and Din felt the way your entire body coiled up in anticipation, another trembling cry leaving your lips and your hands twisting frantically into the blanket beneath you. "Mando-!"

His name, his name, you were saying his name even with another man's mouth giving you pleasure. Djarin couldn't help the satisfied little growl that left his lips and made its way through his modulator. He heard Ezra chuckle, the other man pausing to shoot him a sly wink over the length of your body. Din nearly laughed.

"Ezra," He said instead, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Make them cry."

He stopped caring about how wrong it was.

…

You gasped at Mando's words, already inches from bursting into tears. Ezra's mouth was slowly coaxing you open, the stubble on his cheeks and jaw rubbing your thighs. Every pass of his tongue, every gentle press and suckle sought to untangle the knotted ball of heat in your belly, but you were certain you would lose your mind before you managed to disperse the agonizing feeling.

You were too full, almost too aroused to handle Ezra's mouth on your cunt but you were positive if he stopped licking at you, you would die. Heat felt like it was sloshing in your belly, there was so much of it...

Ezra placed a series of delicate kisses on your clit, each one lighter than the last. His hands, still secure in their binders, clutched your right thigh for purchase when he pulled back to gulp air. His expression was dazed, eyes managing to focus on the armored man that loomed over you after several long seconds. "Will you not indulge, Steerforth?" He sounded like he was almost begging Mando, voicing what you couldn't bring yourself to say. "They ask for you, how can you sit there so damned impassive?"

Your breath caught in your throat when you heard Mando exhale raggedly, the bounty hunter muttering, "M' not impassive. There's nothing I-"

"Touch them, for fuck's sake!" Ezra cried, pointedly rattling his cuffs. "I cannot do both. We must work together!"

The Mandalorian lurched suddenly up onto his knees, then sprawled over your body, slamming one hand down to support his weight before wrapping his fingers in the neck of Ezra's tattered thermal shirt. "You don't call the shots here, quarry." He snarled in That Voice, the one that he reserved for his bounties.

Your hands crept up to his hips, hyper aware of the sweet taste in your mouth and how good this would feel.

…

Ezra stared at the pitch-black visor inches from his nose. Felt the strength in the gloved hand that threatened to do much more than stretch his shirt.

The prospector took a mental inventory of his body at this juncture, a bit surprised and entertained to find that he was thoroughly invested in this new direction the encounter had taken. Mando was no doubt glaring at him from the safety of that impregnable helm, the other man's hackles obviously raised by the jab from the prospector.

It mattered very little at this point in time, however, as Ezra heard a zipper fly open. Mando flinched so hard Ezra felt it in his back, and the sound you made was enough to get the devil to start sweating. "Seems that you may be outnumbered, Steerforth."

"Target rich--environment-" The armored man snarled. "Senaar, y-your--mouth, fuck-"

He stuttered. He stuttered. Ezra latched onto that weakness with a filthy grin, easily twisting out of the other man's grip to duck his head back down and taste you. Mando's other hand hit the blanket as you undulated your hips up to meet Ezra's mouth. Ezra could only imagine the noises you were making around the other man's cock. He knew you were making them by the way Mando's arms quivered. And wasn't that a sight, a man in full armor rendered helpless by the power of a warm, eager mouth on his cock.

"Watch me now, Steerforth." Ezra crooned, tilting his face up to make presumed eye contact. "This is how you make them weep with pleasure." He was sure that his chin was dripping pink at this point and he knew, even without seeing the other man's face, that Mando was barely hanging on. He had to salute the armored man's dedication. A less devout individual would have given out before they made it to the floor.

The Medusine barrier that the Serpentia formed was slowly weakening under the gentle assault of his mouth, Ezra was pleased to notice. Of course, he wasn't exactly rushing, simply going at a steady pace to keep your pain to a bare minimum. You had begun to leak around the barrier, your arousal even warmer than he had expected. Ezra couldn't tell whether it was because he was under the effects of the pollen or whether it was reality that you tasted immaculate, but he reasoned that it didn't particularly matter.

He was hungry enough to cope with either happenstance.

"Little bird, fuck my face, won't you?" He requested sweetly, chuckling at your enthusiastic response. "Grind yourself to completion on my tongue, break the barrier so that your associate can sheathe himself balls deep in this delectable pussy and give you respite."

...

"Fuck." Din rasped, his eyes wide behind the visor of his helmet. The way that Ezra spoke was like fucking music, the man wrapping filthy words in flowery, incomprehensible syntax.

The Mandalorian's fingers tangled resolutely in the blanket, the armored man panting as you urged his aching dick even further down your throat. Your hands grappled with his thighs, shoving them wider and then taking two hungry handfuls of his rear to encourage him.

"Senaar-" he started to warn you off, but stopped dead when you moaned around him. Stars, he wondered how you could even breathe--

You pulled back, coughing and gasping. "You're doing so well, little bird." Ezra murmured from between your legs. Your only reply was to take Din's cock back into your mouth and oh fuck you weren't stopping-

Your hand found Djarin's in the blankets and you tugged on it, forcing him to try and figure out how to redistribute his weight so you could have the appendage. He managed it of course, he was a fucking Mandalorian after all, but there was a moment where he nearly lost his balance.

You guided his hand to your neck and Din couldn't fight back the groan he let out when he felt his cock bulging through your throat. Fuck, no one had ever been able to take this much of him into their mouth before, halfway was usually the stopping point.

Djarin grunted and tilted his head down to watch you struggle, finally wrapping a hand around his cock and easing it back out of your mouth. Strands of saliva connected the engorged head of his dick to your lips. Din sighed stupidly at the sight, fisting his dick and coating his glove with your spit. "You're good at this, Senaar." He said gruffly, knowing that it wasn't really praise, not like how Ezra said it. But words had never been his forte.

"Keep speaking to them Steerforth, they leak at every word out of your mouth." Ezra encouraged from between your legs. "That's right little bird, just a bit more…"

Din was startled, to say the least. You liked when he talked? "I…" he hesitated, then his brow furrowed. "Can't wait to fuck you, Senaar." You whimpered, your hips shuddering. "Fuck you until you don't remember your own fucking name." Din growled. "Breed you like a good Mando should, pump you full of my come just like my Creed-siblings did, right?"

You nodded against his thigh, your sweat seeping through his flight suit to meet his own liberal perspiration. He was so hot, his armor had never been this hot--

"Kevva, that's a kink I didn't anticipate." Ezra panted, pink slick smeared all over his nose and chin. "They certainly like it though, if I understand correctly."

Din could smell you, smell the sweet scent of that fruit mixed with your own arousal. His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of Ezra's neck and he nearly headbutted him on reflex, barely reining the power back in time. Ezra seemed confused at first, the other man obviously dazed with heat and just sort of allowing Djarin to shove his face against his helmet.

…

The helm was so cool, Ezra couldn't restrain a relieved sigh when he made contact. Mando appeared to be rubbing your essence all over his helmet, utilizing Ezra's face as a paintbrush. Unorthodox, but effective.

"Oh," Ezra realized, "you've got some sort of olfactory sensors in there, don't you. You lewd creature you!" He teased breathlessly. "If you think they smell sumptuous, I regret to inform you that their taste utterly puts that to shame." Words were heavy in his mouth, the prospector having to work harder and harder to put sentences together. It wouldn't be long before his senses wholly abandoned him, he was certain. "Release me, Steerforth, I must…I must carry out my end of the bargain." He groaned, struggling free. "We are almost at their climax."

Mando was nearly vibrating with anticipation, gloved fingers clawing at Ezra's hair. "Careful," was all the armored man said hoarsely.

Ezra nodded, once again touched by the bounty hunter's surprising display of consideration for his partner. "When the barrier breaks, they will need your cock immediately, Steerforth. I will...not be coherent for much longer." He mumbled against your cunt, giving up on speech after Mando nodded.

With one last sweep of his tongue, the barrier dissolved. You sobbed out, your voice breaking as you writhed beneath your large companion and bucked your hips up against Ezra's eager mouth. Slick fairly poured out of you, leaking down your thighs and soaking the blanket beneath you.

Ezra didn't remember wriggling his bound hands beneath your rear, simply returning to his senses with your legs over his shoulders and his lungs burning for air but you tasted so good, he felt raw with hunger.

Mando's gloved hand covered nearly the entirety of his face, easing him back from his feast. Ezra watched the other man's chest heave in a daze until he suddenly remembered what he was doing. "I apologize, I...I am too far gone." He murmured in contrition, lowering your hips back to the floor.

"Ask nicely to fuck their mouth." Mando ordered, his blunt words digging into Ezra's groin. "You said it hurt you last time because you were alone. You helped them not to hurt. If they don't want to let you to fuck their mouth though, I'll…" he hesitated, "I'll figure something else out. Nobody has to hurt."

"'Something else'?" Ezra repeated, stunned. What on earth could this armored man possibly be offering? Those gloves were remarkably soft, the leather worn smooth from a lifetime of use, no doubt- "Oh."

…

The pain had eased, only to be replaced by a searing emptiness. You squirmed beneath Mando, tangentially aware that he was engaged in a discussion with Ezra. Your hand flew to your pussy, the drenched area making an embarrassingly loud noise when you thrust two fingers into yourself in an effort to quell the ache.

"Maker, please, please, Mando!" you begged, barely aware of what you were saying. The heat concentrated in your pelvis was burning you alive, desperate tears pouring down your face.

Mando stood to his full height, towering over you, just watching you quiver while you pleaded deliriously. He fairly ambled around your body, moving until he stood between your spread legs. His boot shoved your ankle, opening you even further, exposing every inch of you and the mess that covered the blanket under you. "Senaar." The low burr of modulation made you rock your hips up, whimpering and nodding when he stroked his cock like he was showing off.

Somewhere, deep in your soul, you prayed that he liked what he saw even without the strange pollen instigating.

He knelt, gloved fingers curling beneath your chin to pull your eyes up from his thick, perfect cock and the puddle of precome it was currently weeping onto your pubic mound. His touch sent flickering trails of electricity through your body, and you could barely focus on what he was asking.

"Ezra...mouth?"

You nodded rapidly, making Mando bark out what could have been a laugh. He cupped your jaw again, and then his hand stroked your hair in a way that was almost tender.

"I'll make you feel better." He promised. Ezra was a mess, he looked like you felt. The quarry simply let Mando shove him down onto his knees, his eyes half-lidded. "Undo your suit." Mando ordered and Ezra shakily attempted to obey. He was having a difficult time with his hands still in the binders so you reached out, batting his hands away impatiently to unzip the lower portion of his exosuit.

His thermal leggings were threadbare like his shirt, the waffle-weave fabric soaked through. His cock visibly twitched when you exhaled sharply. "Do not tease me, little bird, I feel as if I am on death's doorstep." The man pleaded through his teeth, "I am raw and agony gnaws at my skin; please take me in your mouth."

"I have to get your pants off." You tried to explain, fumbling with the article of clothing. The noise of despair he made had you frantically clawing at the pants, finally dragging them down low enough that his cock was freed. It slapped against his belly and he moaned, bound hands digging helplessly into your hair.

"May I please have your mouth?" He requested raggedly. "I will not take it if you do not give it freely but please, little bird."

After he had worked so hard to get you to come? You were nodding hurriedly before he finished speaking, and his deep, drawn-out groan of relief was like music to your ears when you swallowed him down.

…

You were radiating warmth, your hips twitching and shifting restlessly even as you tried to get Ezra's dick out of his suit. Din had to hand it to the other man, he did ask nicely.

But there were much more pressing matters to attend to. Mainly, your neglected cunt that was currently leaking all over the underside of his cock. Djarin took a steadying breath, and then slowly sank himself into your waiting heat.

Your cry of relief was fucking primal, a hungry, feral snarl that slithered hot and seething in his stomach under the beskar plate. Din was wholly, entirely lost, finding himself mentally shattered at the first stroke into your body. Your thighs trembled on either side of his hips and then your legs fell open, like you didn't have the strength to hold them up.

Shit, he knew he should say something, he knew he should be reluctant about this, but it was like every cell of his body needed you to fucking survive.

Maybe he always had.

Din bared his teeth and growled back at you, his attention divided between watching you eagerly suck Ezra's cock and watching the way his own dick split you open. His passage was eased by the strange pink fluid that continued to ooze out of you, stars it was so hot-

Ezra's fingers tangled in your hair after a moment, the prospector cradling your head to his groin in a manner that could have almost been described as gentle.

"Is this how my Creed-siblings f-ucked you, Senaar?" Din's voice grated in his chest, the armored man barely aware of the heated words tumbling out of his mouth. "Filling you, claiming you, fucking your throat and pussy?"

"Kevva." Ezra breathed. "Your peculiar voice working in tandem with your cock appears to be the thing that turns them into a voracious harlot. I do not know if I have ever-" His sentence broke momentarily, "oh, fuck, very well little bird, take the whole of it then." He grunted, raking his fingers through your hair as you deepthroated him. "You are absolutely magnificent at that, you know." The other man praised shakily.

Your cunt fluttered around Djarin's cock and he felt your arousal soak through his suit, hot fluid sliding down to coat his balls. "Stars, did you just come?" He groaned, unable to stop the filthy noise he made when you whined around Ezra's dick and nodded as best as you could. His fingers gripped your thigh, digging into the skin as he began to rut against you. The Mandalorian threw his head back, panting, "Feel so fucking--good around me, fuck, Senaar, so good-"

…

You felt like you were falling apart again and again. The taste, the sensations, the curling knot of heat in your belly that released inch by inch. Mando's hand on your thigh and Ezra's grip on your head were the things that allowed you to hold on to your sanity, but only just.

Mando was conquering you utterly, his dick driving into you with enough force that you knew you would be aching later, but in the moment you never wanted him to stop. You had craved him, wished for him for so long, to finally have him was total bliss.

And Ezra, Ezra, his silky voice caressing your body as his bound hands carded through your hair. His cock choked you again and again and every time you had to pull back off of him for breath he praised you, talked about how good you were, how no one had ever taken him as deep as you…

You were in heaven.

Ezra abruptly retreated, his cock smearing more precome across your lips. "If you continue on in this manner I will be undone, little bird." He muttered. "Your one-sided assault, while inescapably delicious, is rendering me wholly base. You wish for me to spill my seed on your face?" His hips twitched. "Or shall I fuck my come down your throat, request that you swallow every drop?"

"Fuck it into them." Mando rasped before you could say anything in reply, a gloved hand grabbing your chin. "Fuck your load i-into that sweet little mouth of theirs. Give them what they fucking need, quarry." He demanded, and you nearly came again from how unhinged he sounded.

"Well, little bird?" Ezra asked softly, his eyes dark with want. "Shall I take my pleasure from your lewd little mouth and let your beautiful throat milk me dry?"

"Please!" You begged, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to encourage him.

Ezra sighed blissfully at the sight, lacing his fingers through your hair and encouraging you to take his cock until your nose rested against his groin. "Fuc-king gods, you are positively celestial." He groaned, "Relegating yourself to a singular partner would be doing you a disservice, little bird. I highly encourage you to weaponize your talents in whatever field you wish."

Come flooded your mouth, his cock twitching heavily against your tongue. Your eyes rolled back, your lungs burning for air and you dimly heard Mando snarl, dropping his helm to rest on your sternum. The metal was blessedly cool even through your tunic, helping to anchor you to reality.

"Fucking touch me, please." Mando's voice shook even with the modulator, his words buzzing through your body. "Senaar please, fuck, pl-please, touch me, fucking--"

Your palms crashed into his shoulders, hips bucking upwards to meet his next thrust and you came again. Mando made a noise that you could only liken to a roar, the armored man grappling at your hips and grinding himself against your dripping cunt.

"Senaar, Senaar, Senaar--" The name he had given you punctuated every thrust, his rasping tone making your belly drop out. You weren't sure if you would ever stop coming, grasping blindly at Mando and Ezra while your cunt gripped down on Mando's cock.

…

If Ezra still had any doubts about being a blatant proxy for the armored man, that was obliterated in his post-orgasm daze.

A gloved hand slid to the back of his neck and tugged him down to your mouth. Ezra went clumsily but willingly, the prospector humming when he tasted himself and the cloying sweetness of the Serpentia on your tongue. You sobbed against his lips and Ezra soothed you with his mouth, accepting all of your hungry whimpers and whines as he stroked your hair back off your forehead.

"Little bird, little bird, you will want for nothing with this individual pummeling you so mercilessly." He breathed, relishing the soft cry that quivered against the skin of his neck. "I imagine you can feel every inch of that prodigious girth, burning like unquenchable quicksilver, threatening to breach your very womb." He moved his bound hands down, resting them on your stomach. "Steerforth, I trust you are punishin' their cervix with every thrust?" He queried, chuckling darkly when Mando just snarled in reply.

You threw your head back, hands fisted in the fabric between Mando's pauldrons and gorget. "Mando-!" You pleaded, "fuck!"

Mando's hands dug beneath the small of your back and he canted your hips upwards, sheathing his cock in the cradle of your body over and over. Ezra envied the armored man's stamina, grunting when he felt his member trying to rise again. Whether he could blame the pollen for that, he was unsure, but the lovely company certainly did nothing to dissuade his arousal. Watching this large, almost knightly figure rail into you, your face still a mess of tears from when Ezra had fucked your mouth…

Kevva, he could not recall a time where he had been so content to simply play voyeur, pressing the occasional kiss to your lips at Mando's behest. "Such tenderness, what a dichotomous sensation for you," the prospector mused, "the contrast between armor and flesh." His mouth brushed against your ear when he continued, "However, I believe you're beginning to realize that there is an untapped wellspring of man beneath all that metal, am I correct little bird?"

...

You squeezed your eyes shut and Din's hand reached up, the bounty hunter unable to keep from cradling your cheek. "I always knew." You said, your voice barely audible. "I-I always...I always-"

"Be quiet." Din grunted. "Y-You...don't have to say it." His heart slamming in his chest had nothing to do with his current exertion. You knew. Shame reached him dimly through the haze of arousal. All the times he ached to touch you, all the times he battled with himself over his desire for contact…

Your hand gripped the back of his helmet and he flinched sharply. He hadn't noticed you move and you could pull his helmet off, shit, he was so stupid for doing this! His eyes flew to yours, even though he knew you couldn't see through his visor.

After a moment of him fighting back his panic, you just shook your head. "S-Sealed unit, ri-ght?" You asked, your words hitching with his thrusts. Djarin nodded warily. Your eyes half-lidded and you knocked your forehead into his helmet, the gesture unmistakable to a Mandalorian.

A kiss.

Was his heart breaking, or just fucking giving out under the assault of this insane pollen? Was he overloaded? Was this all just some wild hallucination?

Din frantically shoved his helmet against your face, pinning your head back to the pillow. Shit, he needed to be careful, you didn't have armor. "Senaar, I--" Basic had always been so damn heavy on his tongue. Mando'a flowed, but it was secret. Sacred. Djarin hesitated and you reached up again, cradling the indents on his helmet.

"Always. Even with this." You whispered.

His brain had short-circuited. The roaring in his ears was deafening and he knew he was making some kind of ugly, wounded noise, but he couldn't actually do anything about it.

Always. Always.

His heart must have blown, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for what he was feeling right now.

…

The sound that Mando made after you assured him was heartwrenching, a guttural sob that seemed like a mixture of agony and ecstasy. He clawed at the blanket beneath you, gasping for breath as he all but broke you in half, his dick ripping yet another orgasm from your hungry cunt.

You were lightheaded from his prolonged fucking, your pussy in spasm around his thick cock, but you refused to give out yet. "Did you feel me come, Mando?" You whimpered against the side of his helmet, wringing more feral noises out of him. "Is it good?"

"Fuck, incredible, s-so--" Mando gripped your thigh, hitching it up over his hip and then dragging his fingers hungrily through the pink slick that had pooled in the crease of your hip. "Never want to leave, fuck, m'sorry, I know I'm t-taking--forever-"

"Only a fool apologizes for his length in the bedroom." Ezra remarked dryly, dipping down to kiss you when you laughed. "How do you fare, little bird?"

"So good." You sighed, feeling half-drunk on your orgasm high. The knot in your belly had finally gone slack, leaving you weak and trembling beneath Mando as he chased his own completion. You hummed and Ezra rumbled back, his touch remarkably careful when he cupped your chin.

"You have done so well." Ezra murmured. "Serpentia is no simple storm to weather, yet you have endured." Mando wordlessly bumped his helmet against Ezra's temple, the metal rubbing over the blond tuft of hair the quarry sported. "You are most welcome, Steerforth." Ezra chuckled. "One is glad to be of service, but please. You threatened to fill them, didn't you?"

Mando's hips faltered in their rhythm and the armored man finally came with a shattered moan of relief. Stars, you weren't sure if you had the Serpentia to blame for the sheer volume that he came; you could feel it frothing out of you around his cock as he continued to shudder and writhe through his orgasm.

"Holy shit, Mando." You said incredulously, unable to fight back the urge to slip a hand down between your bodies. "You told me Mandalorians were rare."

"We--are." Mando panted raggedly, his cock still twitching inside you.

"If you come like this, how?" You asked, your combined fluids soaking your questing fingers. Mando just stared at you for a moment, shoulders heaving while he struggled to catch his breath.

And then he started laughing, which was...not nearly as terrifying as you had expected, honestly. "Stars, you--" He wheezed, his helm thudding gently against your forehead. "Fuck you, Senaar." You could hear him grinning, his voice still warm with laughter.

"Odd method of displaying affection. I take it your Creed is of a fraternitous bent?" Ezra commented, a quiet noise of surprise escaping him when you tugged him down for a kiss.

"Thank you." You mumbled drowsily into his mouth.

"Hardly. I ought to thank you. When last I endured the Serpent's grasp, I was incarcerated and driven to gratify myself to ribbons on the inside of my gear." Ezra informed you, his tone nonchalant. "This experience was a rare moment of hedonistic bliss in my life. Believe me when I say I shall cherish it."

He straightened up before you could say anything in reply, extending his bound wrists to Mando.

"Whither to, my recalcitrant steerforth?"

Mando ignored him for another moment, stroking your forehead tenderly. He appeared to have noticed your weariness, because he sounded softer when he spoke. "Sleep, Senaar. It's over."

…

"I'll cut you loose on Sorgan."

Ezra swiveled in the co-pilot chair, knowing that his expression must border on the befuddled. When the armored man had left you to sleep, hauled Ezra into the cockpit and secured his binders to the chair, the prospector had assumed that whatever agreement they struck previously was rendered null and void. "I would be...wholeheartedly grateful to you, Steerforth." He breathed.

"I never found you. Your pod malfunctioned and you burned alive in the atmosphere." Mando instructed him in that level, modulated voice. "Stop stealing shit and I won't have to hunt you down again."

"Those men stole from me!" Ezra retorted hotly, knocking his elbow down into the white case that hung off his hip. "I worked alone for stands and they came along right at the most opportune juncture, put a thrower to my head and robbed me! I simply reclaimed-"

Mando waved a hand, interrupting his self-righteous tirade. "You and I both know that it doesn't matter. I'm forfeiting the credits this time, but next time…" he trailed off pointedly. "Don't get caught again. If someone else from my Guild chapter picks up your bounty, Mandalorian or otherwise, they will catch you."

Mando leaned in close, his elbows resting on his knees and helmet propped up on his folded hands. Ezra felt for all the world like a specimen underneath a microscope, barely suppressing the urge to squirm nervously.

"The bounty specified that you be captured warm." The armored man said after a beat. "No promise of half-payment upon cold delivery or even proof of demise. So whoever you got into a pissing match with wants to be the one to put that last slug into your brain. You already heard my advice. For your own good, I suggest you lay low and be fucking quiet." He gestured out the cockpit viewport at the green sphere that hovered in the distance. "There's good people on that planet. Good people that I care about. If you bring hunters to their doorstep, I will find out. And then I will find you."

Kevva have mercy, this man was no joke. Ezra was having a difficult time just mustering up the breath to give him an affirmation! Was this truly the same Lancelot he had watched engage in lotus-eating debauchery with his Guinevere not two hours hence? Ezra's belly roiled uncertainly, arousal and fear a potent combination. This must be how the bounty hunter indulged himself without divesting his plate, the prospector reasoned dimly. Fear was a remarkably stimulating thing. "Of course." He finally answered, his voice a little reedy. "Your mercy is...unexpectedly generous, but no less appreciated for its spontaneity."

Mando grunted, seeming satisfied with his response. The armored man returned to the control panel after a moment, flipping a few switches. The entire ship appeared to be miles above what Ezra was used to. Even the Testin had a dog-eared manual that hung from a chain by the central dash, and the craft was such a rattling nightmare that she needed three bodies just to keep her straight. But this man, this...Mandalorian, he operated the whole blasted vessel with a fluid ease.

His next words were so quiet Ezra nearly missed them. "Thank you."

"Pardon?" Ezra queried blankly.

Mando heaved a sigh that made his pauldrons visibly dip. "I said, thank you." He growled awkwardly. "I don't know what...I don't know if I would have hurt them because of--because of how I am."

"It will do no good to ruminate on such dour subjects." Ezra hesitated, then continued, "but your Creed...would you have broken it for them, had you known about the requirements of the Medusine barrier?"

"I…" Mando tightened his hold on the directionals, those gloves creaking with his tension. "I'm not sure." He admitted, lapsing into silence afterwards.

"Your ship is marvelously responsive." Ezra murmured by way of changing the subject. "It reminds me of a diminutive Screamer-class that I endured a few stands on, oh, nearly fifteen cycles ago-"

"Be quiet."

…

Din watched Ezra until he vanished between the large trunks of Sorgan's conifers, the Mandalorian then dropping back into the pilot's seat with a groan. Maker, he hoped he was doing the right thing. Hoped he hadn't just unleashed some mass-murdering psychopath on the unsuspecting populace.

Djarin tilted his helmet back against the headrest of the seat, aimlessly staring up at the fuselage.

What the hell was he going to say when you woke up?

Din's heart sank. He knew that he couldn't believe anything that had come out of your mouth while you had been under the effects of that fruit. Serpent's Tongue. He chewed his lower lip meditatively.

He could lie.

He fucking cringed at the thought, then shook his head at himself. You would be embarrassed at best, but at worst…

Shit, he didn't want to lose you, even if you didn't feel the same way about him. And then there was the kid to worry about. No, a lie would be better.

You had sought out other Mandos. His stomach lurched as he recalled that little fact. Fuck, fuck, was it hope that beat so insistently in his throat?

A sealed unit, he had said.

He just wouldn't bring it up. He was the one who had insisted that this whole maneuver was struck from the proverbial records in the first place, right? He just wouldn't mention it. Easy enough. If you said something, that was fine, but otherwise…

Din nodded firmly. This is the Way.

Part Two

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ask-the-riders · 3 years

Text

Eager Deal Maker

Not all demons enjoy making deals and stealing souls

But most of them thrive off of it

((Gonna add some warnings for implied abuse, implied domestic disturbances, threats, manipulation, threats against animals, and dark themes))

The drama was a frequent occurrence within the household, and frankly, none of it came as a surprise anymore. If anything, the demon found it amusing, and the negative environment fed him well. It began when the dumb brunette harlot moved in with her worthless drunk of a boyfriend. Naturally, her teenage daughter went with her; Not that she was given a choice on the matter. The woman’s boyfriend also had a daughter of his own, who’d made it clear from the very beginning that she had no interest in befriending the other girl.

Living together wasn’t always the best, but it was doable. Then the family relocated, and a little time passed before the woman’s eldest child moved in with them, absolutely riddled with anxiety and depression. Of course, while Othni relished those emotions, it was the fear and anger that blossomed there that really caught his attention. First it was from the pair of siblings and their overactive imaginations, causing them to fear their new home’s basement. They despised the dirt and cobwebs, the old, musty odor, and the various dark crawl spaces. Their minds painted the image of monsters lingering in the gloom, and more than once, they feared that if they looked into the darkness too long, they’d catch something looking back at them. Othni had been so very tempted to indulge their imagination a little, and he contemplated all the various forms he could take to scare them.

He never got the chance, though. The rage that took hold of the house was located on the second floor, and it was provided by the daughter of the mother’s boyfriend. She was so angry and often carried the stench of jealousy, and Othni was intrigued. She had such an easy life; So he didn’t understand what she had to be angry about. Her parents loved her, she didn’t have to work even a single moment to attain anything she currently owned, she had a loving boyfriend of her own, and she had virtually the entire upstairs of the house to herself. She was bitter and ungrateful, and Othni could hardly believe some of the things that she had the audacity to say to her father. Hell, if he’d even considered saying such things to his father…

Othni shook off those thoughts, refocusing his attention on the present moment. Right now, a fluffy black cat that belonged to the pair of siblings was staring at him from across the small living room, it’s large, green eyes locked on his every move. He paused, stopping in the doorway that connected the living room to the kitchen, and he arched an eyebrow, watching the cat tilt its head and take one tiny, cautious step toward him. Smiling slightly in amusement, the demon slowly lowered himself to the floor and sat down, turning his body a bit and facing away from the cat. As he’d expected, the fluffball continued to very cautiously approach him, stretching its neck and sniffing the air. This was a creature that was pure of heart, and he could tell how timid it was, so he did his best to stay as still as possible.

Crouched low to the ground, it crept even closer, slowly making its way around him and sniffing at his arms and hands. Looking up at him with wide eyes, its mouth hung open as it tried to process the new scent, and he chuckled, amused by the way that particular expression looked on its face. A door slammed upstairs and the cat immediately bolted for the stairs, likely to go hide in its owners’ room. Othni made a face, pouting as he watched it leave; It was fluffy and timid, and it reminded him of his precious Misfit. It saddened him ever so slightly that the fluffball was gone now, but he shoved the feeling aside. After all, he could always see it some other time.

The stairs creaked and he vanished into the shadows, quietly watching as the resident home-wrecker descended. Usually she emitted nothing but anger and jealousy, but at the moment, she gave off a sick, twisted sense of joy and satisfaction. Noting the cocky smirk she wore, he frowned; Oh, wonderful. Just what in the hell had she done now?

He waited for her to pass from the room before he warped through the shadows and manifested in the shadows that occupied the guest room. Careful to stay out of sight, he took a deep breath, sensing the anger, frustration, fear, and despair from across the hall. The elder sibling’s anxiety had grown so much that it was almost suffocating, and he furrowed his brows in puzzlement. Again, he warped through the shadows of the house, manifesting a second time within the siblings' closed bedroom closet. Listening in, he caught the sound of sniffling, as if one of them was crying. When they spoke, their voice shook, “If she does anything to him, I swear… I’m gonna throw the bitch down the damn stairs. I’m not letting her get away with this.” As they spoke, he could hear the anger and venom that were laced into their words, and he tilted his head.

He was all for violence and revenge, but just what was going on? The one that was speaking was usually so reserved and considerate of others. They reeked of kindness and empathy, and this was incredibly out of character for them. Willing to risk being seen, he warped through the small gap beneath the door, quickly finding a new spot just outside one of their windows. Peering inside, his eyes scanned the room before they settled on a piece of paper that laid on the foot end of one of their beds. Squinting a bit, he focused in on it, and then immediately bristled. On it, there was a threat to kill their cat, along with an additional insult. From the brief meeting he’d had with their little black fluffball, he could tell that it was a sweetheart. In such a short amount of time, it reminded him so much of Misfit that he felt his long dead heart give a small pulse in affection, and he found himself already harboring the urge to protect it. This… This wouldn’t fly. If these humans didn’t do something to protect it, then he’d be taking it with him, and that was all there was to it.

“I can see you out there!” The other siblings' words caught Othni by surprise and he jolted, quickly ducking out of their line of sight. Hiding in the shadows again, he listened as the first sibling questioned them, frowning as they gave their response, “There was a shadow out there. It was all dark, and then I saw it move.” The demon mentally kicked himself for not being more careful and he remained frozen in place, waiting for their conversation to change before he moved again. When it did eventually drift back to the subject from before, he prepared to move, but then abruptly stopped, listening as he caught the tail end of something the first sibling had said, “-I wish demons were real. At this point, I’d willingly give one of them my damn soul if it meant getting rid of that bitch and keeping Bubby safe.”

A lightbulb went off in the demon’s mind, and a wide, sharp toothed grin stretched across his face; An opportunity to make a deal had just presented itself, it seemed. He didn’t even care if he laid claim to their soul or not, all that mattered was protecting their little feline friend. Grinning devilishly to himself in delight, he warped back into their closet and waited. Some time passed before their light shut off and the room became illuminated by nothing more than a small, handheld lamp, and he prepared himself, his tail and claws disappearing, his sharpened teeth becoming dull and human while his eyes faded and turned emerald green. He allowed his greyed skin to shift, becoming a more human looking color before he rapped on the door exactly three times and waited.

Naturally, a few expletives slipped from their mouths, and he arched a brow. There was the sound of movement before the closet door slowly opened after a moment and the pair of siblings gawked at him. Clearing his throat, he took the most polite tone he could manage, “One of you wished for a demon to solve your recent problems for you, so here I am.” While the elder of the two continued to stare at him, the younger one seemed taken aback, “Uhh, no, we didn’t. Who the hell are you, and why are you in our closet?” The demon couldn’t help the amused grin that found its way onto his face and he tilted his head, “One of you said they’d willingly give up their soul to get rid of that dunderheaded doxy across the hall and to keep your pet safe.” The younger sibling shot a look at the elder of the two, and the elder seemed to shrink back a bit, offering them a small, guilty smile.

Shifting his attention to them, he hummed, “I presume it was you?” They sheepishly nodded, not quite meeting his gaze, and he warped through the distance between them, “Luckily for you, I can do that. I can get rid of her, and I can make sure your cat is safe. You caught me on a good day, so I won’t even ask for your soul.” The elder of the two siblings regarded him with a look of clear suspicion, narrowing their eyes, “…What would you be getting out of it? You’re a demon, so I don’t think you’d ever do anything just for the sake of being nice.” He chuckled lowly to himself; Oh, so they were a clever one. How interesting.

The demon shrugged his shoulders, noting the way their cheeks reddened the slightest bit as he drew even closer to them and leaned down, wrapping an arm around them. Lowering his voice, Othni murmured, “I saw the note she left, where she threatened to kill your cat.” He paused, slowly letting his appearance shift back to normal. As his fair skin became greyed and his teeth sharpened, his eyes began to glow a vibrant shade of blue and his tail appeared, unwinding from around his waist. It curled around the elder sibling’s waist and he dug his clawed fingertips into the fabric of their shorts as he purred, “As you can probably imagine, I happen to love cats. If someone has the audacity to kill a cat, then I kill them. Simple as that.” Registering the change in his appearance, the tail around their waist, and his words, their eyes widened and they froze, unsure what to do.

Sensing this, he lifted his free hand, delicately turning their head so they’d meet his gaze. As their eyes met his, he offered them a sharp, charming grin, “While your soul would be a nice little add-on to this deal, I don’t need it. All I want is the satisfaction of ridding this home of someone who’d dare hurt an innocent animal. All you’d have to do is keep your mouth shut and let me feed off of the growing negativity here.” He stole a glance at the younger sibling, “Both of you. Do you think you could do that?” The siblings shared a look, the younger one nodding first before the elder nodded back. Meeting Othni’s gaze again, the elder sibling made a soft sound in agreement, “Yeah… We could do that.” He seemed to light up, his grin widening, “Wonderful, I’m glad! Since I am still making a deal with you though, I’ll need you to shake my hand.” Offering them a blackened hand, he patiently waited as they internally battled with themselves.

A few seconds passed before they hesitantly took his hand, and his grin became mischievous. He tightened his grip on their hand and dug his claws into their skin, drawing a small amount of blood as he hissed, “Excellent, I’ll get started immediately, then. I’d suggest putting your headphones on… You might not want to hear the screams.”

#writing #othni.exe #tw: implied abuse #tw: implied domestic disturbances #tw: threats #tw: manipulation #tw: threats against animals #tw: dark themes #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #undertale #undertale au

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the-gay-prometheus · 3 years

Text

Frankenstein AU Segment - “Home Again”

Ok fun fact: I’ve been working on a segment for about two weeks now.

Second fun fact: This is not that segment, but instead something I wrote entirely spur of the moment in the timespan of about 1 hour total.

It’s extremely self indulgent, I’ll be honest. From writing an entire big useless paragraph of Henry horseback riding because I’ve been missing horseback riding and horse related things all day, to the entire actual context of this segment being... well... being what I wish I could have through my transition. If anybody wants to be my Henry and support me unconditionally as I go through my own transition that would be greatly appreciated jhebdjdfhbvjhdvbfv /hj

Anyways- So! This is something totally different than all of the other ones I’ve written so far, because it takes place quite a bit before Victor even goes to Ingolstadt - in fact, it takes place before he even chooses the name Victor! That means you’ll see a character named “Em” (who Henry recognizes as “Emily” at first) - and that character is young Victor!

TW: Mention of blood - absolutely harmless in context, but it is mentioned so it’s worth a tw. Otherwise this is a very generally wholesome segment (other than a small argument between Henry and his dad).

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are greatly appreciated!

“Henry! It’s nearly time for supper!”

“I’ll be right in, father!” From a leisurely walk through the green pastures of his home, Henry urged his red roan mare into one final canter across the field. In the golden light of the slowly setting sun, her mane, tail, and the feathering of her hooves flashed like threads of shimmering copper as Henry’s own vibrant auburn hair flew behind him whipping like fire in the breeze. His hazel eyes set their sights on the stables beyond, and he tapped his heels once more against the mare’s sides, pushing her into a swift gallop. Enthralled by the rush of the wind against his freckled skin, Henry let go of the reins and extended his arms outward. He felt the air pass through his fingers and he imagined instead that they were the feathers of great wings catching the current and soaring through the sky. Though it lasted only a moment, his heart pounded with joy within his chest, still so full of adrenaline even as they approached the gate that led out from the pasture and to the stable. He dropped his hands back to the reins, pulling back gently until his mount slowed her pace back to a walk. Both human and horse panted, the mare chewing idly on her bit as Henry hopped out of the saddle and pulled the reins over her head. He led her into the stable, humming a happy tune to himself with a skip in his step. Grabbing her halter from its hook, he took her into her stall, unbuckling and removing her bridle before replacing it with the halter and tying her to the rope that hung from the wall inside. She stood quietly, each breath sending up gentle plumes of dust that glittered in the light which filtered through the stall window.

After removing her saddle, he began brushing her patchy roaned coat. Ordinarily she was a steady, quiet mare, but Henry noticed that she kept twisting her ears toward the stall which was used for hay storage. Every now and then she would lift her head and flare her nostrils, turning toward the direction her ears were trained upon. “Do you hear something over there, girl?” Henry asked softly, watching her inquisitively. Nearly as soon as he said it, there was a soft thud from that same location, which caused him to jump and the mare to utter a low nicker. Henry pat her neck gently and cautiously stepped out of the stall, staring down the hall toward the source of the sound. “Hello?” There was a rustle within the hay, then another soft thud - followed by a quiet voice that Henry couldn’t make out what it was saying. Instinctively he grabbed a pitchfork that leaned up against the wall, pointing it toward the stall defensively. “Who’s there?” Then came a cough, more rustling of hay, and then - a small, thin figure with short, messy hair stumbled out into the hallway, promptly tripping over their own feet and falling to the ground. Henry gave the person an odd look and turned the pitchfork upright, resting on it like a walking stick. “Can I… help you?” he asked curiously, confused as to why some stranger was hiding in the hay. The stranger struggled to push themself up, and in the dim light Henry’s eyes widened as he beheld the stranger was covered in dirt and… blood? As they lifted their face, Henry suddenly dropped the pitchfork to the ground in shock. “Emily?! Is that- is it really you?” he breathed, rushing to the figure and kneeling down. Surely enough, the stranger smiled up at him with kind brown eyes.

“Oh hi, Henry,” they managed to croak - before promptly collapsing unconscious.

When Em’s eyes fluttered back open, the first thing he saw was Henry standing over him, a look of worry on his face as he gently rubbed at his dirty skin with a damp towel. He gave the ginger haired boy an odd look. “Uh… Henry?”

“Good lord thank goodness you’re awake!” Henry exclaimed. Em blinked at him.

“What… what are you doing?”

“Hold still - I’m trying to figure out where all this blood came from!” Em couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“Henry. Henry-” He reached out and gently grabbed his arm. “It’s not my blood.” Henry stared, then gave him a curious look, and slowly set the cloth down.

“Oh thank goodness,” he breathed with relief. There was a pause, then his curious expression returned to one of concern. “Whose blood is it?”

“Cadaver,” Em replied simply, turning away and coughing into his shoulder. “It’s a long story.” Henry stared a moment longer, then smiled.

“Well I can’t wait to hear it.” Em smiled in return, but his smile quickly faded when a muffled voice called from somewhere outside. Henry glanced up. “I’ll- I’ll be right back. Father wants me in for supper.” Em nodded. “Don’t go anywhere!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Clerval.”

Henry sat anxiously at the table, fidgeting with the silverware and wishing he could be back in the stable with Emily. Secretly stuffed into his pocket were a few pieces of bread he intended to smuggle to his dear friend, while the food on his own plate went relatively untouched. His father sat at the head of the table, his mother directly across from him, and as usual there was awkward silence between them. “So. Henry,” his father began, breaking the silence. Henry sank in his chair, wishing he wasn’t being spoken to at the moment. “Have you decided?” Henry glanced up to him.

“Decided? Decided on what?”

“Is that not what you were doing out there? You said that you would be able to think of which trade you want to pursue better while on horseback.” Henry sheepishly looked away.

“Oh. Right. I… yes. I was thinking about it,” he answered at a length. “Definitely was thinking about that.”

“And?” He could feel his father’s gaze on him, and he shrunk down further in his chair.

“And… I still haven’t figured it out yet?” His father sighed heavily, his fork clattering onto his plate as he pressed his head into his palms.

“Henry, you’re a young man now. You need to start taking your future seriously!” he exclaimed, exasperated.

“I’ve got time! Besides, I have an idea of what I want to do but-”

“Please don’t say ‘travel the world and write stories,’” His father cut him off, mentioning his goals mockingly. Henry frowned.

“That is exactly what I want to do. Yes.”

“Traveling and story writing don’t pay, Henry!”

“Yes they do!”

“Not enough they don’t! We have talked about this before Henry - either you take up the family business or you take up a different trade. There is no other option!”

“I have plenty of options! Just let me go to university!”

“Absolutely not, Henry.” Henry groaned, putting his forehead on the table.

“Why can’t you just let me do what I know I’m meant to do?” he grumbled.

“Because this family has a reputation to keep, and you are the only one to keep it!” his father exclaimed. Henry glanced up at his mother, but she simply stayed silent. He groaned louder and looked back at his father.

“Permission to be excused?” he muttered.

“Yes but-”

“Perfect. Thank you. I’ll be back later.” With that, Henry stood and hurried out of the dining room, leaving his father to shout something after him - though his mind was too preoccupied to hear what it was he said.

“Emily?” Henry called out in a quiet whisper as he reentered the stable, lit lamp in hand. He glanced around, waiting for a response, then called out again. “Emily?!” When no response came, he ran to the hay stall to find his friend still lying on the hay, still as stone with his eyes closed. Henry stared at him a moment longer. “...Emily?” Still no response. In the dark, he couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, and he grew frightened. He reached out, grabbing his arm and shaking it. “Emily!”

“Good god Clerval!” Em suddenly exclaimed with a gasp, jumping awake. Henry let out a sigh of relief as he nearly fell back.

“Oh thank goodness you’re ok.”

“Of course I’m ok, Henry! I just spent months walking here from Paris on foot, I’m exhausted,” Em explained. Henry’s eyes widened.

“You got all the way to Paris?” Em thought for a moment, then smiled.

“I did.”

“What was it like?!” Henry exclaimed, his expression brightening. For a moment, Em was lost for words. He had forgotten how much he missed Henry, how much he missed the way his hazel eyes would light up and sparkle at the mention of anything that peaked his interest, how strands of his ginger hair would fall in wavy tangles over his freckled cheeks… he blinked the thoughts away, then grinned.

“It was horrible, disgusting, and absolutely wonderful. I hated it and loved it all at the same time.” Henry chuckled.

“Sounds like Paris to me.” He slowly sat down, turning and resting his back against the hay bales Em lay upon. “So what brought you back? Did things… not work out there?” Em shrugged.

“Things were ok for the most part. It was a rough life, but it was a lot of fun. I made friends, learned a lot about… well about a lot of things, I suppose. Never had a true home, but I felt home enough out there on the streets with the friends I had.” Henry felt a sudden pain in his chest at the sound of that, and he glanced down at the floor. “We got into some trouble though. ...More like I got into some trouble and unfortunately somebody else got partially blamed for it. And then, I guess, I realized I needed to come home.” He looked down at Henry. “Or at least to as much as a home as I’ve got.” Henry turned his gaze up to him and smiled slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here safe now.” Em nodded.

“Me too.” There was silence between them, Em tapping his fingers idly on the hay beneath him as he thought about his next words carefully. “But that’s… not the only reason I came back.” Henry turned his eyes back ahead.

“Oh?”

“Yes. See- there’s something I discovered-”

“Some scientific marvel?” Henry teased, grinning. Em smirked.

“Well yes, but no.” He hesitated, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s… I’m… I discovered something about myself.” More silence. “Henry I- … Henry I’m actually…” Em sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled harshly. “I discovered that I’m… a man.” Henry blinked, then looked up at him.

“Is that it?” Em shot his gaze down to him.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’” Henry shrugged. “You’re not… you’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

“...I don’t know, most people seem to think it’s crazy- or weird or- unnatural- but it’s not! It’s-”

“Emily. You don’t need to justify yourself to me.” Em froze, staring down at him as he gazed back with a smile. “If you say that’s who you are, then it is who you are. Who am I to say otherwise? Who is anyone to say otherwise? You know yourself better than anyone else.” Henry’s smile suddenly faded as he realized there were tears dripping from Em’s eyes. “I- Was I supposed to be upset?” Em sniffled and let out an awkward laugh.

“No- no I’m just-” He paused, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t know what I was expecting but… I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to be just so accepting.” Henry looked up at him with a sympathetic gaze.

“I’ll try not to be too offended by that,” he mused sarcastically. Em giggled and waved his hand dismissively.

“You know what I meant.” Henry nodded. “My point is… thank you. I couldn’t possibly ask for a better friend than you, Henry.”

“I do have one question, though.”

“Hm?” Em looked down at him, suddenly feeling himself fill with anxiety.

“What does this change? I mean… is there anything that’s different about you now?” Em breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well… for one thing, I’ve been going by just Em for a few years now.” Henry nodded, taking a mental note of that. “But I’m still trying to think of a better name for myself. Maybe… you could help me with that at some point?” Henry grinned.

“I’d be honored!”

“Excellent.” With great effort, Em started to sit upright, struggling to put his weight on his shaking arms. “There is… something else, though. Another reason why I came here.”

“Go on,” Henry encouraged, standing and hopping up onto the hay bale to give Em some support to sit upright. Em took a deep breath.

“This is going to sound crazy,” he began. “I need to… perform surgery.” He paused, and turned to look at Henry, who was staring at him blankly. “On myself.”

“Okay! When do we-” Henry began, until what Em had just said fully registered in his brain. “Wait, what?” Em grinned sheepishly.

“I need to perform surgery on myself,” he repeated, more confidently this time. Henry blinked.

“...That sounds incredibly dangerous. Is there something wrong with you? Why can’t you, I don’t know, get a real doctor to help you?” Em frowned.

“Well it’s nothing that’s wrong with me- it’s just…” He sighed. “I’m… I’ve grown up, I guess. And even though I never really felt weird in my body before, things started changing and suddenly it just… didn’t quite feel right anymore, if that makes any sense. Apparently it’s a common symptom of being… well… whatever I am. See- I had this friend, his name was René and he was… you know, the same as me. He used to tell me all the time how he wished there was a way to just get rid of the parts of himself that didn’t feel right, and- well you know me, Henry, when somebody says they wish something was possible, I have to find a way to make it possible.” Henry listened carefully, and nodded with a grin.

“That’s for sure.”

“Well… that’s when I decided I would try to figure it out - that way I could make it happen for him, and maybe even train him so he could do the same for me! Henry, we could’ve changed the world for countless others like us!” Henry blinked.

“...So why didn’t you?” Em suddenly went quiet, then exhaled softly.

“I knew it would take an awful lot of practice, and no doctor would ever reasonably let me apprentice under them for such an undertaking so… I may or may not have taken matters into my own hands.” Henry stared blankly. “Hence… cadavers. René helped me steal the tools I needed and aided me with breaking into the morgue every night so I could practice. All was going well, but it turns out people don’t seem to be overly keen on evidence being tampered with or bodies being ‘desecrated.’ So one night just as I finally got every part of my methods down correctly, we got caught. We both ran, but we had to split up and… I know René slipped but… I was too busy with my own pursuers to turn back for him.” He stared off into the distance, a suddenly sorrowful expression in his eyes. “I hope he’s ok… but it was then that I realized it would be unsafe for me to stay, and the only other person I could think of who could help me with such an undertaking as this… was you.” Henry’s eyes widened.

“Em I hardly think I’m qualified-”

“You don’t have to be! I can teach you. I’ll do most of the work, and you just have to do what I tell you, and everything should work out just fine.” Henry crossed his arms with a sigh. He thought it through, and although he wanted so badly to say no, the look of determination on Em’s face convinced him well enough that this was something his dear friend so desperately needed.

“As long as you think we can pull it off, you know I’ll always be here to help,” he reassured him with a smile. Em grinned, suddenly lurching forward and embracing him in as tight a hug as he could muster. Henry sat stunned, his cheeks suddenly burning as he felt himself blush, but he nervously chuckled and wrapped his arms around Em in return, not realizing that Em’s own pale cheeks were turning bright pink, until both of them awkwardly released each other and sat there turned away from one another. “Well… I suppose I should be off to bed,” Henry muttered, still with a sheepish smile on his face. Em flopped back down onto the hay, resting his hands behind his head. “We can talk more in the morning and- oh!” Henry pulled out the bread he had smuggled from his pockets, and held it out to Em, who gladly snatched it and immediately began shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth. “Figured you were hungry so… heh. Anyways… I’ll see about bringing you breakfast tomorrow too, just like old times.” Em grinned up at him.

“Jus’ ‘ike o’ ‘imes,” he answered, mouth still full with bread. Henry hopped down from the hay bales, taking his lantern once again.

“I’m glad you came back, Em,” he mentioned, standing just outside the stall door. Em turned and glanced back at him, smiling brightly.

“I’m glad to be back. I missed you, Henry. Nothing is ever the same without you, you know.”

“Same to you, Em.” With that, Henry strode out and quietly closed the door behind him. As he started back toward the house, he paused, turning back toward the stable with a bittersweet gaze and a flutter in his chest. You have no idea just how much I missed you, he thought. But you’re here now, and that’s- that’s good enough for me. Filled with a sudden surge of energy, he jumped into the air with an exclamation of joy and ran back to the house, twirling and prancing as he ran until he was dizzy from the thrill. He paused at the door, panting, looking back toward the stable with a massive grin and a glimmer in his eyes. “Oh Em,” he breathed out loud, chest heaving as he caught his breath, “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

#frankenstein au #tw blood mention #ask to tag #lmao i considered proof reading this but it's 11:26 PM and i'm exhausted so. hopefully there's no huge errors in it fbvdvhbjvhdbvjfhvbdfv #we'll see i guess!

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starmieknight · 3 years

Text

Gray Morning, Golden Home

Pairing: (poly) Jeongguk x Jimin x Taehyung x Original Character, [background OT7 implied]

Summary: (Indulgent fluff without much plot) Hari has a quiet morning with her magical boyfriends and their many, many familiars.

Contents: soft, magic!au, college/university!au, fluff without plot, jimin is a troll, jeongguk is a good boyfriend, taehyung is soft, oc is whipped, there are so many pets/familiars i had to make a sidenote to keep up with them all

The morning was cold and gray and damp.

Hari grumbled, still half-asleep as she buried her face in the folds of her comforter. The pale morning light was shining through the gap in her curtain, not warm, but piercing and cool. She was a fan of mornings like these, but still didn’t like to wake up any earlier than she had too.

Fortunately, it was the weekend and she wasn’t forced from the comfort of her bed by any alarms or pressing arrangements to get to class or work on time.

Hari could hear Bass yelling in the kitchen, the little cat demanding her breakfast as the dogs ran around the linoleum. There was a pause from the cat and the sound of cat food being poured into a dish. She could hear Jeongguk quietly scolding Holly and shooing him away to his own bowl.

Hari snorted. Rapmon was the one that needed looking after the most when it came to stealing cat food. He was one of the biggest of their bunch, but quite sneaky when he put his mind to it.

She sat up, taking a moment to just stretch and sit quietly while she continued to wake up. Kkanji was laying by her feet, the older cat snoozing quietly with her fluffy tail over her face. Hari smiled at her, amused that Taehyung’s familiar was sleeping with her instead of her own. But Bass was an unusual type and wasn’t one to wait around for Hari to drag herself out of bed when there was food to be had - or other coven members to bully.

Kkanji ‘murrrped’ at her as Hari ran a hand down her soft back, startling the cat awake. A soft purr filled the room as the sleepy witch lavished the familiar with affection before pulling herself out of bed.

The door next to Hari’s was still closed and she could hear Taehyung snoring inside. She cracked it open to take a peak. Three heads popped up from various points on the bed, Soonshim’s eyes glowing in the darkness for a moment before he recognized Hari’s scent. He opened his mouth to let his tongue loll out and his tail thumped against the bed. Yeontan and Sangdol scrambled out of Taehyung’s arms to jump up against her legs for her attention. Soonshim rose and stretched before leaping out of the bed and following the group at a more sedate pace.

“C’mon, guys.” Hari urged them into the kitchen. “Breakfast time.”

Jeongguk looked up at her as she and her entourage entered the kitchen, the dog’s nails clicking against the floor to announce them. He smiled sleepily at her and Hari felt her heart give its familiar jump at the sight. Even after months of exposure, she still had a hard time controlling her feelings.

Holly and Rapmon left his feet and their bowls for a moment to greet Hari and the other dogs before hurrying back. Bass only flicked her ears to acknowledge her witch, too concerned with her breakfast to do much more. Kkanji hurried into the kitchen behind the rest, quietly looking between Jeongguk and Hari to see who would feed her first.

Only Gureum, Mickey and Jjangu were missing from the bunch, the latter pair no doubt dogging Jimin as he got ready, the oldest of the familiars rather clingy to the temporary leader of the coven while the eldest members were away.

Hari was still nervous about how the atmosphere of the house would change when the rest of the boys returned home. Her joining of the coven hadn’t been planned and was an unusual one, given that she hadn’t even met everyone in it yet.

But the way that Jeongguk smiled so warmly at her and opened his arms to usher her in for a hug made her relax, stepping into his embrace like she was coming home. Her head was tucked under his chin and he smelled like a silly mix of Mountain Dew and faint sweet perfume and laundry detergent. She hummed contently.

“You were up all night binging that game again, weren’t you?” Hari asked in amusement, wondering where he found the energy to still pull all-nighters when she could barely make it through the day sometimes. Gureum’s mysterious absence hinted at a magical boost, the little dog likely recharging after helping Jeongguk stay up all night. “How are you awake still?”

“I’m gonna go take a nap after breakfast.” Jeongguk promised before she could scold him. “I figured I could go ahead and cook for you guys since I was already up. Jimin-hyung’s in the shower.”

“Tae’s still asleep.”

“I’ll wake him up when the food’s ready.” There was a vague, tingling feeling in the air that always preceded the use of magic, and the cabinets opened. Jeongguk’s eyes glowed slightly as he pulled plates and utensils out, four sets of tableware floating to the table.

Hari was slightly jealous of his ability, her own magic still too unrefined and imbalanced for her to feel safe with object manipulation like Jeongguk could. It was basic magic skills and her lack of magical upbringing made her own magical education somewhat lacking.

Hopefully Namjoon could teach her control and fundamentals when the rest of the boys returned home. Jimin said he’d offered to help her when they had their last phone call. It wouldn’t take much longer for their coven to be complete again now that the older coven members were no longer looking for the answer to their curse breaking.

There was a squeak from down the hall as the water shut off and Hari realized in the sudden silence that Jimin had been in the shower the entire time. She squeezed Jeongguk once more before letting him return to breakfast and she sat down on a barstool to watch him.

He was quiet and focused, having already set up several smaller side dishes while he cooked enough jeon for everyone. The smell of frying potatoes made Hari’s mouth water and reminded her of the hashbrowns her mom used to make for breakfast back home. Having grown up around her mom’s mostly white family in America and their set ideas of breakfast, the way the boys made their breakfast was still a bit odd to her, especially since most of the time it didn’t feel like breakfast to her. Hari enjoyed it and was reminded of the few times she’d had breakfast with her paternal grandfather. Luckily for her, Jeongguk listened to her better than her grandfather and remembered her extreme dislike of fried eggs.

Set aside from the boys’ larger dish, was a nice little bowl of scrambled eggs, just for Hari.

Her chest felt warm and content.

Bass, finally finished with her breakfast, brushed up against Kkanji and Rapmon on her way to Hari, jumping into her witch’s lap. Bass’s funny, broken purr was loud in the kitchen as the young cat aggressively showered Hari with love, headbutting the witch’s chin so hard it seemed like she was trying to become one with her.

Hari laughed and scratched the scraggly cat under the chin, ducking down to give Bass better access to her face and receive love.

She nearly fell out of her chair when another head bumped into her own. Jimin caught her easily, laughing at her reaction and keeping her on top of her stool.

“Yah!” she scolded, slapping his shoulder. “You scared me half to death! And you’re dripping all over me!”

Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with mirth as he shoved his head into her neck, making her squeal as her neck was soaked by his wet hair. His silver locks were nearly gray when wet and left cold trails against her skin as he mimicked Bass. The feline familiar was only too delighted with his actions and redoubled her efforts, trying her best to headbutt them both at the same time.

Jimin only pulled back when the cat stuck her nose in his eye.

“Sorry, Hari-ah.” the silver haired man apologized, not looking the least bit remorseful. “I saw my chance and I had to take it.”

“He’ll be worse when you and Hobi-hyung are together.” Jeongguk warned, looking amused. “You guys are both the jumpy type and Jimin-hyung is a troll.”

“You say that like you’re any better,” Hari snorted, leaning back from Bass. The cat promptly lost interest in her and went to harass the dogs.

Mickey scuttered away from her to hide behind Jjangu and Rapmon, still wary of the excitable cat. Hari had to admit that Bass could be a bit of a bully to the smaller dogs if they let her. The witch scooped the Shi Tzu up into her arms for safety.

“I’m a selkie,” Jimin protested, whipping his towel at Jeongguk. “And the fact that you’d compare this face to a troll just proves that you need glasses.”

“Okay, Jin-hyung.” Jeongguk mocked, referencing some trait of the oldest coven member that Hari didn’t understand yet.

Jimin grinned at the joke and ducked down to kiss Hari so quickly that she barely had time to register it, her ears going red as he sauntered over to the stove. “Want me to finish this up? I’m not volunteering to wake Taetae up today.”

“I’ll get him.” Hari volunteered, carrying Mickey with her down the hall. “Gukkie’ll just roll him down the hall when he doesn’t wake up.”

“You just want to make out with Tae without us.” Jeongguk teased, fake-pouting with Jimin.

Hari lifted a hand to flip them off as she rounded the corner, the sound of their laughter trailing after her.

The room was still dark and the air conditioning was blowing a steady stream of cold air in, making it the ideal sleeping setting. It was no wonder why Taehyung slept so well and deeply.

Hari made a mental note to take more naps with him in his room, the atmosphere just different from her own room in a cozy way. She used her own room for too many things besides sleeping, not having a playroom or art room like the other boys had. From what she understood of the unexplored rooms, the older members of the coven had private workrooms too - music studios and offices, Jimin had explained when she first started living with them.

Maybe in time, she’d ask them to add a room for her too. It would be fun to watch the magic they put into the house bloom.

Hari wondered how the house would sell one day if they ever wanted to move, having so much space inside when it looked so small on the outside. She loved it.

Taehyung snuffled and turned his face into the pillow as Hari pulled the covers back, sliding into the warm space between him and the edge of the bed. The smell of lavender and freshly washed sheets surrounded her, making Hari glad she and Jeongguk had finished the laundry recently. Taehyung procrastinated in changing his sheets too much for her taste, something she learned early on in their relationship.

He turned his head, still asleep but drawn to her warmth. Hari smiled and tucked herself into his side, kissing the edge of his jaw lightly. Taehyung’s lips twitched up into a slight smile, his eyelids fluttering a bit at the new sensation. Hari pressed another kiss to his jaw before starting a trail up to his cheek, his nose and finally his lips. She felt them curl beneath her own and had to pull back when her own smile grew too big to continue kissing him.

Taehyung hummed, trying to chase after her. Hari kissed him again quickly and rubbed a hand over his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging lightly at his hair like she knew he enjoyed. He sighed at the feeling, finally cracking his eyes open to look at her.

“Good morning.” Hari said simply, laying her head on the pillow next to his. She could spend every morning like this, lazy in love with her boys and exchanging hugs and kisses freely.

It was harder to do outside the house where she was only openly dating Taehyung and left longing to hold hands with Jimin and Jeongguk. At least, in the realm of the non-magical. The boys assured her that things were more liberal in the magical communities.

“Morning,” Taehyung murmured, trailing his fingers over her arms and raising goosebumps from the ticklish sensation. His voice was even deeper than normal and rough from disuse and Hari could feel it reverberate in her chest. “Can I get a wake-up call like this every day?”

Hari pretended to think about it. “I dunno, I may have to rotate schedules with Gukkie and Jimin. I’d like to wake up like this too, y’know.”

Taehyung smiled fondly. “Then I’ll take a turn tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.” Hari said genuinely, stroking her hand over his hair once more. “Jeongguk made breakfast. We’re just waiting on you.”

Taehyung leaned forward to kiss her one more time before sitting up, giving Hari a peekshow of his stomach as he stretched. She eyed the sliver of stomach she could see between his t-shirt and shorts appreciatively. She almost wished that Jeongguk and Jimin weren’t waiting for them so she could have some time to show her appreciation - or that they would come back to the bedroom and join her.

But the sheets were newly cleaned and breakfast was getting colder by the second.

Taehyung muttered something that she didn’t catch as he slid out of the bed, pausing a moment to greet Mickey where he was waiting on the floor, and headed out into the hallway.

Hari watched him go, lingering in his bed for a moment. She closed her eyes and laid back, soaking in the familiar smells of Taehyung. She could hear him join Jimin and Jeongguk in the kitchen, a cacophony of greetings from their many familiars almost drowning the boys out for a moment.

It felt like home.

Hari smiled contently, her heart feeling full.

“Hari-noona! Your breakfast will get cold if you don’t hurry!”

“Hari! Moon Hajoon! Did you get lost?”

“Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

Hari chuckled and called out. “Coming!”

#bts x oc #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #poly bts #bts magic au #bts x original character #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #bangtan #my writing #light in a nocturnal world

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guiltysecretpasttime · 4 years

Text

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

---

Title (tentative): Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither. He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

#linzin #linzin fanfic #legend of korra #lin beifong #tenzin #jinora #ikki #mako #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip

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