#i want him to stand still when i roundhouse him in the gut

[detroitbecomeonline]

I experience an inexplicable, incapacitating joy any time I see Connor get his shit rocked.

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Chapter 48- Armageddon Part 2

Chapter Summary: The Shield continue to take on The Wyatts

Words: 6,000+

Author's Note: Trust the process :)

------

Melanie was elated right now. She was about to face her boyfriend in a match. It had been a while since they had a match together, and she hoped she wouldn't disappoint the fans. She's been working on a new Morganizer ever since the day after Survivor Series and she hopes to debut it tonight. And what better person to do the move with, than her boyfriend? 

Celeste tweeted 'Holy shit! This is gonna be GOOD!'

The Bellas tweeted 'Morgan! I hope you know what you're doing. Dean! Save her!' 

"The Lunatic Fringe going up against The Outspoken Diva. Man...these two know each other so well. This is going to be very interesting." Cole said. 

"Interesting!? This is epic!" King grinned. 

"Epic!? Interesting!? This is horrible! They are supposed to be a couple! They aren't supposed to fight! Physically I mean!" JBL complained. "This is a nightmare! Don't do this!" 

"John, you are taking this a little too far. Morgan wants a match, so maybe if she wrestles Dean, she may be saved." Cole informed. 

"Yeah...MAY be saved." JBL replied. "I hope Dean knows what he's doing."

Morgan narrowed her eyes at Dean. "Looking at you brings back unpleasant memories..." 

"Oh really?" Dean recalled. 

"Break him in half! Make him feel what you felt! Make him pay!" Bray yelled. 

"Your ass is mine, Morgan." Ambrose declared. 

"Oh really? Since when am I yours?" she replied. 

"Since day one. And if you ever kick me again, I swear-" 

"Oh! You're swearing now? Really? What are you gonna do? What are you gonna do!? I'll beat the crap out of you, for sure." 

Dean starts pacing around. 

"Dean, there is still time to rethink this!" JBL shouted. "Rethink this!" 

"I don't think so!" Cole yelled as Morgan did the matrix evasion when Ambrose tried to go for a clothesline. 

He turns around as she spins and hits him with a roundhouse kick to the face.

"And it's on! This place just exploded!" King exclaimed over the loud cheering. 

Morgan goes for the pin but Dean kicks out at two. 

"Stay on him! Stay on him!" Bray ordered as she put Dean in a headlock.

"Common Dean!" Seth cheered as Ambrose grunted and managed to stand up.

She jumps up and puts her legs around Dean's torso to try to tighten the hold. He manages to escape it and she tries to kick him in the stomach but he grabs her foot and shakes his head. 

"Nope." He said.

"Right back 'atcha!" She jumped up and hit him with an unexpected enzuguri as he fell to his knees. 

"I got a feeling these two are going to blow the roof off this place soon. They're just warming up and taking the pace a little slow." King grinned. 

"How can you enjoy watching this!?" JBL exclaimed. 

"It's a sight to see," Cole said. Morgan runs to the ropes and hits Ambrose with a shining wizard. 

"What a kick!" Cole exclaimed as Morgan spun on one knee and stopped to have a staredown with Rosa. 

She slowly smirks at her and blows her a kiss. 

"Are you kidding me!? Dean! Tag me in right now!" Rosa yelled. 

She really wanted to put her hands on Morgan. She hated her guts for taunting her. 

"More mind games by Morgan. Looks like payback." Cole said. 

The Outspoken Diva stands up but as soon as she turns around, Dean takes her down with a lariat. 

"What a takedown by Ambrose! The game has changed now." Cole looked on.

Morgan holds her head but sighs loudly when he puts his right knee on her back and puts her in a headlock submission from behind.

"Hurts doesn't it? It hurts, huh? This is what happens." He taunted. "Maybe next time you should watch your back!" 

"Ugh, shut up!" She yelled.

"Do you submit!?" The ref asked.

"Will Morgan tap!?" Cole shouted.

"Rose! Do not give in!" Bray yelled.

"Dean! That's painful! Why would you hurt her, like this!?" JBL exclaimed. 

"Morgan has to dig down deep." King looked on. 

The Philly Diva manages to hit Dean in the face, making him stumble up to his feet. She quickly drops him down, face first and puts him in the breakdown as the crowd cheers. She leans back and puts her feet on his while putting his arms in a straightjacket position. 

"Grin and bear..." She retorted as she put more pressure. 

"Painful!" King cringed.

"Come on, Dean! Do not tap out!" Seth yelled. 

"Put more pressure!" Bray ordered.

"Tap!" Morgan yelled. 

"Like hell, I will!" Dean yelled and managed to get one of his arms out as he escaped the hold. 

They both stand up and Morgan tries to go for the bulldog but he pushes her away. As soon as she turns around, she gets dropped by a clothesline. 

"What a shot!" King shouted. 

Dean runs to the ropes and does a little wave before hitting her with an elbow drop. He goes for the pin and she kicks out at two and rolls over to the ropes. She gets up and leans on the ropes while Dean runs, striking her with a running front dropkick as she holds her stomach and slides down. 

"And Ambrose is dominating now," Cole said as he hit her with a few shots near the turnbuckle. He throws her to the ropes but Morgan jumps on the middle rope and jumps off to hit him with a springboard forearm. "Morgan with the counter!" 

"Amazing!" King said as Dean rolled over to the turnbuckle next to the Wyatt Family's corner and sat on the bottom turnbuckle. 

She gets up and runs her hands through her messy black hair. She runs towards him and uses the ropes to jump up and connect by giving him a dropkick on the chest while landing.

"Jeesh! What a dropkick!" Cole looked on. 

"Morgan! What are you doing!? Stop it! Stop it right now!" JBL whined. 

Dean rolls over on the apron, near the commentating table and manages to get up. She connects with a spinning heel kick to the face as he falls off the apron. 

"Look out!" King yelled as she got on the apron and hit Dean with a diving clothesline. 

"She's not messing around! Uh oh." Cole said as Seth, Roman, and Rosa got off the apron and headed to Dean to check on him while Morgan had a stare down with them. The Wyatts get off the apron to accompany her. "This is getting intense." 

The ref starts to count and Morgan slides back in the ring, to wait for Dean to crawl back in. At the count of 6, he slides back in. Morgan gets on the top rope and goes for a crossbody but Dean catches her. 

"Uh oh!" Cole shouted as the crowd cheered while she tried to get out of his hold but failed. 

He hits her with a backbreaker as she yells out in pain and puts her in a submission by making her stay in the backbreaker hold.

"Make her tap!" Rosa cheered. 

"Your back isn't supposed to do that," King said with worry as Dean continued the pressure. 

Morgan sighed loudly. "I can't take this anymore!"

"Then give up and come back to me!" Dean yelled. 

"No!" She yelled and punched him away as she escaped the hold. 

She rolls over and stands on the apron. Dean gets up and goes to punch her but she ducks and slides back into the ring, in between his legs. As soon as she stands up, he quickly turns around and grabs her for the headlock driver but she pushes him away. 

"Not today." She retorted and threw him to the ropes, hitting him with a big boot. 

She pins him for a two count. She gets up and runs to the ropes but Dean gets up and follows her to hit her with a knee to the stomach. She groans out in pain and drops to her knees. Ambrose smirks and puts his hands on his knees. 

"That hurt, didn't it?" He taunted as she clenched her stomach, shooting him a dirty look. "This is what happens, Morgan! This is what happens!" 

She stands up and strikes him with a quick roundhouse kick to the face, making him slowly drop to the mat. 

She looked at his dazed form. "Who do you think you're talkin' to!? Do you know who I am!?" She yelled. 

Dean begins to smirk as he starts to sense her coming back to him, but it isn't enough. He'll have to dig down deeper to save her. He stands up and they lock up but he puts her in a waistlock from behind. 

"You know...I always think you're beautiful when you're pissed off." He said in her ear which made Morgan feel a spark in her head. 

She starts to remember the times when he would try to calm her down whenever she got angry. She shakes her head and elbows him in the stomach, making him release the hold. She throws him to a corner and walks back to the corner across from it. 

"Uh oh! I think I know what's coming next!" King grinned as Morgan connected with the handspring back elbow. "Woo hoo!" 

"This is pure torture..." JBL retorted and buried his face in his hands. 

Although it seemed that Morgan hit Dean with the elbow, he quickly grabbed her from behind and slammed her down. 

"What a counter! I thought she got him!" 

Dean picks her up and puts her on top of the turnbuckle. He gets on the middle rope and puts her in a double under hook suplex hold. 

"Put her down! Put her down, now!" Bray shouted. 

Dean smirks at him but Morgan manages to wiggle out and punch him down. 

"Phew! That was close!" JBL sighed out of relief. "W-wait, Morgan! What are you doing!?" 

She goes for the moonsault but Dean moves out of the way.

"Nobody home! Gosh...I hope Morgan is okay." King said with worry as she clenched her stomach. 

Dean goes for the pin but Luke gets in the ring and breaks it up. 

"What the hell!?" Seth yelled as Roman gave Luke a dirty look. 

Dean glares at Luke and starts arguing with him as the crowd gets excited about what will happen next. 

"Watch your back!" JBL warned but Morgan took advantage and hit him with the Morganizer. 

"She got it!" King yelled as she quickly went for the pin.

"No!" Rosa yelled.

"Kick out!" Seth shouted 

"1!"

"2!"

"Oh!" The crowd yelled as Dean kicked out.

"What!?" Bray shouted. 

"I thought she had it!" Cole shouted as Seth, Roman, and Rosa looked relieved. 

"Just what I expected," Morgan said. 

She gets up and goes to a corner and waits for Dean to get to his knees. Once he does, she runs to hit him with a knee to the head but he quickly moves out of the way and grabs her for the headlock driver. 

"It's over!" King yelled as he quickly went for the pin.

"1!"

"2!"

"Oh!" The crowd yelled again as Morgan kicked out.

"No!" Rosa shouted

Morgan holds her head and remains motionless. 

Nikki tweeted 'Kick out after kick out! This is making me nervous!' 

"Unleash Rose! Unleash!" Bray shouted angrily. 

"I'll unleash on you, all right." Dean pointed to him and stood up. 

He picks Morgan up and throws her to a corner but they both try to fight their way up the top rope. 

"They are just unloading on each other," Cole said. 

They manage to get on the top rope and Morgan positions him for the Morganizer. 

"No way, off the top rope!?" Cole exclaimed. 

Brie tweeted 'Please don't tell me...' 

Nikki tweeted 'WWEMorgan101 you crazy son of a gun' 

"Oh no, no, no, no~. Put him down~! Put him down~!" Seth said in a whiny voice while Morgan smirked in amusement. 

"Morgan! No! Put him down!" JBL yelled. "Put him down now! What are you doing!?" He got up from his seat but King pulled him down. 

"Calm down!" King exclaimed. 

Morgan exhales and hits Ambrose with the Morganizer off the top rope while doing a battle cry as the crowd starts chanting 'Holy shit!' 

"No! No! Morgan! Why would you do that!?" JBL yelled. "I gotta get in there-" He stands up but King and Cole pull him back down. 

"Sit down!" King and Cole yell. 

"We gotta see that again!" King yelled as they showed Morgan's Morganizer a few times from different angles. 

"Morganizer off the top rope! Somebody pin someone!" Cole shouted. 

Morgan and Dean lay motionless and they both were panting. Morgan was lying on her back, looking at the ceiling while Dean was face first on the mat. She kind of felt some weight lifted off her shoulders while she began to wrestle Dean. She started to feel less stressed out with Sister Abigail and more content while wrestling Dean in the ring. 

"Pin him!" Bray yelled. 

"Dean! You gotta make a tag!" Seth put his hand out. "Come on, Ambrose." 

The Outspoken Diva turns her head and sees Ambrose looking at her. 

"Dean..." She managed to say as he looked into her eyes. 

She starts to feel a stronger spark in her head while he begins to recognize the look in her eyes. He wasn't much of a hopeful guy, but he felt like he had a strong chance to save her now and he thinks he knows how. 

"1!" The ref started to count for a double count out. 

Dean had a strong feeling she was coming back to him but it still wasn't enough as she managed to crawl over to The Wyatts. 

"Why didn't she pin him?" Cole asked. 

"Maybe she's coming back," King said with hope as Morgan tagged in Luke and rolled out the ring to recover. "That Morganizer took a lot out of her and it may have just hurt her as much as it hurt Dean." 

Celeste tweeted 'Whoa! Morganizer off the top rope!? Badass!' 

Brie tweeted 'OMG! Morgan! What were you thinking!?' 

"I think Ambrose is still dazed from that Morganizer," King said but Ambrose hit Luke with a neckbreaker and tagged in Seth. 

Seth picks up the pace by hitting Luke with a one leg dropkick and a roundhouse kick to the stomach and a side kick. He starts unloading on him near the turnbuckle and heads for the top rope but Erick gets involved. Erick gets kicked off the apron but Harper takes advantage. He tries to go for a suplex but Seth lands on his feet at the crowd 'Ohs'. 

"Oh man!" Cole shouted.

"What!?" King yelled in a high pitched voice as Seth clotheslined Luke out of the ring and hit him with a suicide dive, getting pumped up. 

Seth jumps on the rope and gives him a knee to the head. He tries to go for the blackout but gets slammed by Luke. Luke tags Bray in and throws him to the barricade while Morgan looks on with worry. She did not want to see Seth in that condition. 

Celeste tweeted 'Whoa! Seth is all over the place! #SethRollinsTheSpiderMan' 

Morgan cringes as Bray gives Seth a splash. To hear him yell out in pain broke her heart. Roman gets off the apron and has a stare down with him. 

"Why don't you bring that crap over here!" Dean yelled as the ref tried to restrain him. 

Morgan shows a faint smile as she starts to remember his short temper as another spark goes off in her head. The Wyatts begin to take control of Seth as the crowd continues to chant 'Lets go Wyatts, Lets go Shield!' 

"Morgan is still down and out," King said as the camera showed Morgan resting. 

"Come on, Seth..." She mumbled as Luke continued to take control of him. 

"Come on, Seth! Come on!" Dean yelled in his raspy voice. 

Bray slams him down and goes for the pin but Dean breaks it up. Luke gets in the ring and hits him with a big boot as the crowd 'Ohs!' 

Morgan puts her right hand over her mouth in shock as Ambrose rolls out the ring. She wanted to run over there and help him but Rosa got off the apron to check on him. 

Nikki tweeted 'Uh huh, I saw that WWEMorgan101. #MorganStillCares #BelieveInDeanAndMorgan #PissOffSisterAbigail' 

Celeste tweeted 'Still care for the crazy man, don't you? I knew you did. If only you would show it.' 

Morgan holds her head. Her emotions and actions were starting to get out of control. One second she feels sympathy for her former teammates and wants to help, and the next second she wants to fight them and obey Bray. She started to feel a little bit more free after wrestling Dean but it wasn't enough. She thought a match would work but she needed something stronger. She needed to try and find a way to piss her off. 

But what would piss Sister Abigail off? 

Morgan gets back on the apron and Seth manages to fight back. Seth crawls over to his team but Rosa tags herself in as the crowd begins to boo. 

"I got this." She got in the ring. 

"And the crowd is not happy," Cole said. 

Rosa pointed to Morgan. "You and me, right now." She said as the Wyatts turned to Morgan. 

The Outspoken Diva narrows her eyes and puts her hand out as Luke tags in her. The crowd cheers for her as she slowly gets in the ring and runs a hand through her hair. She ducks Rosa's clothesline and grabs her for a reverse DDT. All of a sudden, Roman goes at it with Luke outside the ring which catches Morgan's attention. Dean gets involved as he goes at it with Erick and gets the upper hand by throwing him to the barricade. 

"That's it..." Morgan retorted and slid out of the ring, marching right over to Ambrose. "I'm not done with you, yet!" She yelled and tried to hit him but he grabbed her forearm. 

"Oh no!" King exclaimed. 

"Oh boy," Cole looked on in anticipation.

"Don't do anything reckless! You already gave me a heart attack after watching that Morganizer off the top rope. The top rope! They could have broken something!" JBL shouted as he held his heart. 

Morgan looks into Dean's eyes. The voice in her head was telling her to hit him and push him away but she got lost in his eyes and started to gain the control of blocking everything out. Ambrose pulls her to him and begins to slowly lean in. 

"I know what you want me to do. This better make you snap out of it," he muttered

"W­-wait what are you doing?" She managed to say, feeling Sister Abigail's resistance. She tried to pull back but he held a strong grip. 

"About to give you justice." He replied. 

She tries to pull back again but grunts as he keeps holding her in place. 

"N­-no. D-­Dean stop." 

Dean could sense the reluctance in her voice when she told him to stop. 

"Is that really what you want?" he asked.

"Yes! Now get off of me!" She tried to hit him with her other hand but he grabbed it and kissed her as the crowd began to go wild. 

"Whoa!" King shouted as Ambrose wrapped his arms around her waist.

Morgan felt a strong spark in her head as she felt Sister Abigail's desperate resistance in her body, trying to fight him off of her. She tried to quickly hit him off of her but he took the hits and continued to kiss the hell out of her. With each second that passed, the more Morgan was starting to give in. 

"Yes! Thank you! Thank you!" JBL yelled as the crowd began to cheer loudly and chant 'Yes'. "Morgan! Do not fight it! Kiss him back!" 

Nikki tweeted 'This is hot! Keep kissing her! Make her feel the love!'

"He's kissing the heck out of her, that's for sure," Cole said as Morgan's hits started to slow down.

"She's fading! Is she about to kiss him back!?" King asked.

"Come on, Sister Abigail, you can't fight the power of love," JBL said as Morgan's hits started to stop. 

"No..." King pouted as she shoved him back.

"It didn't work?" Cole asked.

"This is tragic...she can't be saved..." King sadly said. 

Morgan started to space out until she saw Ambrose turn away. Her body felt heated from that kiss as she started to remember the things he would make her feel whenever they kissed. The passion was too much for her and she snaps out of it and turns him around. She wanted to kiss him and she needed to kiss him again for the sake of her well­being. 

"What now?" He asked but she grabbed his face and kissed him with the same passion he kissed her with as the crowd exploded. 

She could hear the fangirls screaming as Bray turned his attention to them and his eyes widened. 

"Yes!" JBL yelled. 

"Oh!" King shouted as Dean was taken aback but began to kiss the hell out of her again, while slowly wrapping an arm around her waist. "Oh my gosh, you guys. They-they are all over each other!" 

She wrapped an arm around his neck while Bray looked on in shock. 

"Please tell me that woke her up," JBL said.

"I-I don't know but I'm enjoying the show right now," King added. 

Bray was seething. This was not good. 

"Rose!" He yelled. He couldn't lose her. He had to get her back. "Rose!" 

Morgan began to block everything out as she ran her fingers through Dean's hair. He began to lower her down to the floor with the support of the apron as he put one of his hands on it and released her. 

"Dean..." She managed to say but he shook his head. 

"You know how I feel about you..." He whispered and stood up.

Morgan sits up and looks at him in shock. She touches her lips and stands up before backing up and running a hand through her hair. 

"I think Morgan is wondering what got into her and made her do what she did," King said. "Phew, is it hot in here? That kiss was just...wow." 

Celeste tweeted 'LMAO! #TheKissOfJustice needs to be one of the Kiss of the Year nominees this year.' 

Bray was seething and had to take a drastic measure to bring her back to him. He marched over to her and backslapped her in the face as the crowd looked on in shock. 

"You do not disobey me! Snap out of it! He is your enemy! Unleash!" He yelled. 

"What the hell!?" JBL exclaimed.

"He just hit her! What is going on!?" Cole exclaims.

Dean begins to see red and lunges at him and starts unloading on him. No one touches her like that. 

Morgan touches her cheek and has tears forming in her eyes from the stinging sensation of the slap. It was a wake up call for her as she got back in the ring.

"No...no way..." She mumbled and held her head. She got on her knees and mumbled, "That slap...That's an...in...injust no...no one...No one ever touches me like that...No one ever puts their hands on me like that...But no...Bray did it to protect me...right?" 

"Why is she mumbling? Who is she talking to?" King asked. 

"I think she's having a war in her head," Cole said. 

"No one ever disrespects...no one...no one ever...I...follow no...believe in the...follow the...believe...follow..." She continued to mumble. 

"What is going on? She's mumbling all sorts of stuff. Is she okay?" King asked.

"I hope that kiss is making her have second thoughts," JBL said.

"Moment of truth...what is Morgan going to do?" Cole asked. "Is she back to herself?" 

"We will find out momentarily," JBL said.

'Get out of my head!' Morgan thought until she heard something shatter inside her head as she looked at her hands and stood up. 

She fixes her gloves and looks ahead to lock eyes with Rosa. She starts to remember how badly she wanted to kick her ass and begins to smirk at her while Rosa replies with a scowl. Rosa's eyes widen as soon as she gets speared by Morgan as the crowd cheers.

"Spear!" King exclaimed. 

"Is she back!?" JBL shouted as Morgan started unloading on her. 

"Looks like all that frustration over the months has really taken its toll,"

Cole said. 

Morgan picks her up and throws her to the turnbuckle. She places her on the middle rope and hits her with a double knee smash to the stomach. 

"That's gotta hurt," JBL said as Rosa fell and held her stomach. 

Morgan tries to grab her but Rosa pulls her down to the middle turnbuckle. She grabs her and drops her down with a suplex before getting on the top rope. 

"Where is Rosa going?" Cole asked. But Rosa lifts up her leg and does a split off the top rope, landing on Morgan as the crowd 'Ohs'. 

"Whoa!" JBL shouted. 

"Did you see that split!?" King exclaimed as Morgan held her chest and looked hurt. 

Morgan didn't understand. At first, she felt energetic but now she feels drained. Emotionally and physically. 

Brie tweeted 'Morgan! What is going on!? Get up and fight! What happened!?'

Celeste tweeted 'Morgan, you look really drained. You were just on a roll a few seconds ago.' 

Alicia Fox tweeted 'WWEMorgan101 was just on a roll a few moments ago. How could you let Rosa hit you that easily #DidSomeoneSuckTheLifeOuttaYou' 

A fan tweeted 'I think WWEMorgan101 is distracted because of that kiss. Come to think of it #WhoWouldntGetDistractedAfterAKissFromAmbrose' 

"I'm surprised. I thought Morgan would move out of the way." JBL said. 

"I guess we all underestimated Rosa, tonight," Cole said 

Rosa goes for the pin but Morgan kicks out at a near fall as the crowd chants 'This is awesome' 

"When did she learn how to do a split!? Can-can we see that again!?" King asked as the titantron showed her split. 

"I thought that was the end," JBL said. "If that kiss from Ambrose didn't work, then maybe if Morgan gets defeated, she'll be okay. I'm rooting for Rosa to win this." 

"Rose! Unleash!" Bray yelled. He quickly turned to Erick and Luke and started to whisper in their ears. 

"Looks like Bray has something planned," Cole said. 

"You know, if the match with Ambrose didn't work, or the kiss and slap, maybe if she gets pinned, it'll work," JBL said. 

"Or submitted," Cole said as Rosa hit Morgan with a double foot surfboard as she held her arms. 

"Give up!" Rosa yelled as she put her feet on her back. 

"Gosh..." King said with worry. 

Dean narrowed his eyes at Morgan. He knew she wasn't going to break this easily. He had hope that she would fight back. 

Morgan closed her eyes. 'Why do I feel so weak?' She pondered. 

She couldn't give up. She had to fight back. 

"Give up!" Rosa yelled again. 

"No!" Morgan screamed. 

Moments later, Rosa releases the hold but drops her back down with a kick. She goes for another pin by Erick quickly gets in the ring and breaks up the pin. 

"That looks like what the Wyatts are trying to avoid," Cole stated. "Did you see how fast Erick got in that ring?" 

"I agree," JBL said. 

Rosa quickly tags in Roman while Morgan tags in Erick. The crowd gets loud once Roman gets in the ring. He drops Erick with a clothesline and takes out Bray off the apron. The Samoan is about to hit Morgan but he stops himself when she flinches. 

"Second thoughts?" Cole asked as they looked at each other, making the crowd cheer loudly.

"Come on Morgan, open your eyes or I'll have no choice but to spear you," Roman said with concern. 

"You couldn't bring yourself to spear me..." She mentioned as another spark went off in her head. 

She starts to remember the accident back at TLC when he speared her instead of Punk. 

Moments later, she looks ahead and sees Erick about to attack Roman from behind. Roman senses this and quickly elbows Erick in the head and hits him with a Samoan drop before unloading on him. Luke gets back in the ring and grabs him off of him. He throws him out of the ring but Roman runs and gives Erick a dropkick off the bottom rope. 

"Show off..." Morgan mumbled while Roman smirked at her comment as he started to think she was coming back to The Shield. 

He gets on the apron and pulls down the top rope, making Luke fall out of the ring. Roman slams Erick down and goes for the pin. 

"Is this enough?" Cole asked but Bray broke it up. Dean slides back in the ring and jumps on top of him as he starts unloading on him. "And things are breaking down, guys." 

"Look at Dean Ambrose go, here," King said. 

Harper throws Dean to the ropes but gets elbowed in the face. Bray gets on the apron and gets dropkicked by Dean. Dean turns to Bray but gets hit with a suicide dive by Harper as the crowd 'Ohs'. 

"Are you kidding me!?" Cole exclaimed.

"You gotta be kidding me!" JBL yelled as Seth ran and hit Luke with a Swanton out of the ring. 

"There are bodies everywhere!" Cole exclaimed as Roman went for a roll up but Erick kicked out at two. 

Roman and Erick try to go for a clothesline but they both drop each other down. Seth marches over to the Spanish announce table and takes off the cover as the crowd gets loud and hyped. 

"Oh boy..." Morgan mumbled. 

"Watch it! Watch it!" King yelled as Seth got attacked from behind by Bray. Bray and Luke start to jump him but Ambrose gets involved as the crowd cheers as he goes at it with Bray. "Whoa! This is a war!" 

Bray and Dean fall over the barricade and start fighting out in the crowd. Morgan starts to look worried as soon as Bray comes back and not Ambrose. Meanwhile, in the ring, Erick and Roman start to give each other hits until Roman hits him with a leaping clothesline. He pins him for a near fall. 

Morgan jumped off the apron and walked up to Bray. She gave him a look, asking him, 'What did you do? What did you do to him? Where is he?' 

"He's taken care of. There's no need to worry." Bray reassured. 

Seth gets up and starts attacking Luke but Bray hits him from behind. In the ring, Erick slams Roman and he rolls out of the ring. The Wyatt Family stands before Seth. Erick and Luke lift him up as Morgan's eyes widen. She starts to look conflicted. She wanted to scream and shout. 

"Morgan! Please stop this! Do something!" King yelled. 

Brie tweeted 'BE OUTSPOKEN! OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND SPEAK UP WWEMorgan101! #WhatHappenedToTheOutspokenDiva' 

Nikki tweeted 'I can't believe I'm saying this but...I think WWEMorgan101 is officially broken' 

"This is not gonna be good! They are gonna break Seth Rollins in half!" Cole exclaimed

"No!" King yelled. 

As soon as Seth gets thrown onto the Spanish announce table, Morgan drops to her knees and puts her hands over her mouth. 

"Oh my God!" Cole yelled while Bray gave Rollins a blank look. 

Brie tweeted 'Why...why didn't you do anything!? WWEMorgan101' 

Nikki tweeted 'Seth has been there for you...The Shield has been there for you...Why didn't you do something?' 

Celeste tweeted 'Morgan, do I need to give you a spear and gutbuster to make you open your eyes?' 

Bray walks over to Morgan and kneels before her. "This is closure for you, Rose. They gave you so much pain...now they get to feel what you felt." 

She nodded a few times and sniffed. "Yes. I understand." She said and stood up while The Wyatts circled around Roman, in the ring. 

Roman gets on his hands and knees while he looks at the Wyatts. 

"They're acting like The Shield now. This is what they did over a year." JBL said as The Wyatts started to jump Roman and take control. 

Moments later, the crowd chants 'We Want Morgan!' as Morgan looks at the crowd. They wanted her to wake up too, but it just wasn't enough. 

"Roman has no help," Cole mentioned as Bray gets tagged in. 

When Bray sets Roman out for Sister Abigail's kiss, Roman grabs his hands and makes him release the hold as the crowd gets excited. He hits Bray with a Samoan drop and cleans house. He hits Bray with a superman punch as he starts to gain momentum. He sets up for the spear but Luke gets back in the ring. Roman spears him as the crowd cheers but then Erick starts to distract the ref. 

All of a sudden, Rosa slides into the ring out of nowhere and hits Roman with a low blow as the crowd looks on in shock. Bray was on his hands and knees, grinning at the sight

"What!?" King yelled in a high pitched voice as Morgan narrowed her eyes at Rosa. 

"Who the-what is going on!?" Cole yelled. 

"I knew it! I knew she was working with the Wyatts! Why do you think she sucked up to The Shield? Why do you think she left as soon as Morgan and Dean broke up? She was nowhere to be seen." JBL exclaimed. "She was so persistent about ruining Morgan's relationship with The Shield." 

Morgan looks on in shock as Rosa smirks while Bray gives her a nod. 

"And now Bray Wyatt off the distraction from Rosa is gonna take advantage!" Cole said as he positioned Roman for the Sister Abigail. 

Nikki tweeted 'I knew it! I knew it! This is bad. Really bad. Morgan, please open your eyes! Please! Do something!' 

Celeste tweeted 'Was not expecting Rosa of all people to be working with the Wyatts this whole time.' 

Morgan walks to ringside, near the ramp as Rosa leaves the arena. Bray turns his attention to Morgan and she nods in approval before he does the Sister Abigail on Roman. He goes for the pin. After the ref yells three, Morgan's body language shows that she is defeated as she reveals a disappointed look at the fallen members of The Shield. 

"The Wyatt Family rule at Elimination Chamber!" Cole yelled as The Wyatt's theme came on. 

"The winners of this match, The Wyatt Family," Justin announced. 

The Wyatts are down and out but once Bray stands up, he locks eyes with Morgan. He motions her to get in the ring with the family. She obeys and they look down at Roman. 

Morgan is about to leave the ring but stops and slowly looks back at the fallen members of The Shield, causing the crowd to cheer loudly, feeling hopeful. Moments later, she gets out of the ring and gets picked up bridal style by Luke Harper. She wraps an arm around his neck and looks back at The Shield while the Wyatts begin to slowly walk up the ramp. 

"So many questions unanswered. Is Morgan back to herself? Did Sister Abigail gain control?" Cole asked. All of a sudden, Morgan began to show a smirk as she looked back at The Shield. "Would you look at that..." 

"She's smirking," JBL said. "I kind of like this." 

"I don't understand. What does the smirk mean?" Cole wondered.  

"This is killing me. Is she back or is this Sister Abigail?" King exclaimed. 

"I guess we'll have to check tomorrow night, on Raw," Cole announced. 

Celeste tweets 'Um, I could have sworn Ambrose was still a part of that match. #GettingWorried #WhereIsDean #ShouldIMakeAMissingPersonsReport?' 

Brie tweeted 'NO! WWEMorgan101 why!? Why didn't you wake up!? I thought you were gonna get the last laugh. #ItsOver' 

Nikki tweeted 'Ooh! Rosa is in hot water now. Just watch. The Shield is gonna get her good.' 

Brie also tweeted 'I don't understand...I thought the kiss...the match...I thought that all worked...The Wyatts got her locked up well. Don't let this be the end.' 

[loislame84]

Working on the next chapter of From Russia with Begrudging Acceptance… here’s a small sneak peek since it might be a minute before I can post anything. Work is going to be crazy for me for a few weeks but I’m still trying to write when I get a chance!

***

Meeting mission Yelena was both an arousing and terrifying experience for Kate. Her girlfriend was focused on coming up with the best plan possible which would quickly accomplish everything with the least amount of people needing to be involved. Watching Yelena give the orders, standing at the white board was intoxicating enough but watching her sweat while kicking the absolute shit out of Peter was the most erotic thing Kate had ever witnessed with her own eyes. She was patiently waiting her turn for a go on mats but frowned when a voice called just beside her ear, “careful Kate Bishop if you drool anymore I’ll have to bring out a caution wet floor sign.”

Kate’s cheeks reddened while she quickly moved her thumb across her bottom lip to make sure she wasn’t actually drooling onto the training room floor. “What are you doing here?” She turned to see a familiar shit eating smirk that all former widows seemed accustomed to wearing.

“It’s your lucky day,” Sonya’s eyes glanced towards her partner right as she delivered a roundhouse kick which the boy surprisingly avoided just to get punched in the gut. “You and me, shooting day.”

“Why do I have to do the gun training when I’ll be using my bow,” Kate said petulantly as the thought of leaving the area was unpleasant.

“Do you want to question Yelena’s plans? We can go over the schedule together again if you’d like but I’m sure you remember how well that turned out,” another smirk forming.

Oh, Kate definitely remembered seeing how it was only three days ago. It was their second day of training and apparently Kate was feeling particularly bratty that day.

*2 days prior…*

Yelena had set up a training circuit for Peter and Kate to go through which included a series of different weapons from physical combat, guns, knives, and included a section for both of their weapons of choice. “Yes, I’m talking about your buttlace and your arrows. Sonya and I will be in there to attack at various points plus there are holographic enemies set up throughout the course. The technology is crazy at this place,” Yelena had let slip.

“So the Avengers do impress you,” Kate smirked.

Peter elbowed her, “please don’t piss off Ms. Belova before she starts shooting at us.”

“She won’t actually hurt us,” Kate rolled her eyes. “It’s only rubber rounds or pepper bullets.”

“Have you ever gotten hit with a rubber round?” Yelena laughed at the audacity of her girlfriend.

“No but how bad could it be?”

“That seems like a challenge to me,” Sonya laughed. “Permission for full contact?” She had turned to Yelena who simply nodded. She turned to her partner and whispered something into her ear which had Kate’s heart racing.

Yelena offered a deep chuckle, staring directly at her girlfriend. “The two of you will be working together to make it to the target before the time limit. If you fail, you do it until you clear the course. If you submit, you repeat the course. If you get shot, well… I think you get the point. Any questions?” Peter raised his hand, “good.” Yelena ignored him, “you have ten minutes to come up with a game plan. When the buzzer sounds, the doors open and your time starts. You have thirty minutes to complete the course.” She turned to look at her girlfriend, “watch out for the rubber rounds, little hawk.”

Yelena and Sonya went into the simulator, leaving Kate and Peter in the briefing room. “Your girlfriend is very intimidating. I hope I get attacked by Sonya. I think she’ll go easy on me.”

“I think I fucked up again,” Kate swallowed anxiously, looking at the two widows staring at them from inside the door before they left the area. “I’m sorry for your future pain, Peter. I owe you dinner or something, probably many ice packs and icy hot.”

Peter pulled up the map of the course on the interactive table, “let’s plan this out. We need to get this on the first try. I don’t know how many beating I can take today.” He started to trace out a path noting all of the hiding areas leading to the target. They came up with a solid plan. Kate was going low with a full quiver of arrows and Peter was going to take the high road, pointing out blocks in their plan. They had their coms in their ears and were standing outside the doors waiting for the buzzer. “You don’t really think she’s going to shoot you, do you?”

Kate took a few breaths, “I have no doubt that she will absolutely shoot me the shit out of me.”

[randomheadcanons]

Do You Want to Fight?

a little drabble & of course we do not edit

“Do you want to fight?” Justin blinked, looking up from the sudoku puzzle he was working on, hair falling into his face. 

“What?” “Do you,” Tally repeated, pausing between the phrase, “want to fight?” 

Justin shifted to face her from his spot on the couch, Archie snoozing lightly next to him. Cat and Guy were out doing something, and Tally had opted to work on her current case on his living room floor. Better floor-space, she had claimed the first time she had done so. 

“Like, vocally, or physically?” “Physically.” Tally said, jumping up and dusting off her jeans. 

“Why?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“Afraid I’ll beat you?” She challenged with a grin. 

Justin scoffed, standing up. “You couldn’t beat me when we were teenagers, what makes you think you can beat me now?” It was Tally’s turn to scoff. “Excuse you,” She corrected. “There were several times you and your buddies ‘tactically retreated’” she said, framing the last part in air quotes. “Also, you’re a teacher now.” 

He laughed, “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked. “You don’t think I kept up with it?” “There’s no way you are in the same shape.” She argued. “And you are?” Tally shrugged, “I fight more than you on the daily.” she said, gesturing down to the papers sprawled on the floor. 

Justin shook his head. “C’mon,” he said, gesturing to the door. 

“Oh are you running away?” Tally teased. 

Justin smirked. “No,” he said as he opened the door. “I just don’t want to break a window. We’re going to the roof.” Tally grinned, cracking her knuckles before following him out. 

—----------------------------

“Did you forget that stint I did as Batman for a hot second?” Justin asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Tally rolled her neck in preparation. 

Tally shrugged. “Lifetime ago, Juice,” she reasoned. “A lifetime.” 

“So are there any ground rul-” Justin began to ask, before promptly ducking a swing from Tally. “-Hey!” he shouted, spinning around as Tally readjusted herself, grin on her face. Justin matched her grin with his own, “Guess not,” 

Tally lunged again, this time with a roundhouse kick to Justin’s side, to which he blocked with his forearm. He responded with a punch of his own, to Tally’s cheek. She ducked under it and hit him with a gut punch. But Justin was anticipating it and blocked. He had fought Tally many times before, and she was still up to the same tricks. 

“You’re predictable.” He said as she spun around him. 

“And you have a blind spot,” She replied before her fist clipped his jaw. Justin let himself fall to the ground while hooking his leg around hers, causing her to stumble backwards. 

“And you’re overconfident,” He quipped back with a grin as Tally righted herself. He had to admit, this was making the same adrenaline rush over him, just the way it did when he was still Foot. But this was…different. There was no looming doom about it, it felt almost like he was back training with this squadron, back with Carter, Miller, and Bauer. Justin had always found solace in training; it was the only thing he had to concentrate on in those moments. Back then, he didn’t have to think about missions, or lies, or feelings-he only had to think about his body, and the task at hand. Now, there is considerably less stress in his life. Well, there was still stress: lesson planning, curriculum navigation and general child welfare, but no one was going to die. 

And that felt nice. 

It was Justin’s turn to go for a kick to the ribs, which caught Tally off guard. She grunted when his shin collided with her side, but pivoted to spin so that she was behind him. She went for his kidneys,but Justin rolled away in time before spinning himself and almost landing a punch on her jaw. 

“Okay,” Tally grinned, as she blocked it. “I admit it, you’re still in shape.” Justin grinned back “Duh,” He said as he blocked her next hit. “Gotta keep this temple in shape.” 

Tally danced back and laughed. “Finally leaning into the hot teacher of it all, huh?” Justin shrugged, “I’m warming up to the idea.”  he said, subconsciously reaching for the place that his throwing knives would have been in his previous life. He had suspected that Tally would have lunged again by now, but she was biding her time. 

She had grown in her technique, he realized with a realization of pride. 

Just then, she lunged. 

Not too much growth then, he thought, as he promptly flipped her to the ground. He winced as he heard the air get knocked out of her

“Ouch-” She groaned as she rolled up, clutching her left hand. 

“Shit-ouch, sorry,” Justin apologized, clocking Tally’s pinky, which was not at an angle a pinky should be at.

“Comes with the territory,” She winced, getting to her feet. The fight was over, they both concluded. 

Justin took her hand gingerly to examine it. She winced. He pressed gently where the finger was bruising. Definitely broken, but not shattered. 

“C’mon.” He said, leading her toward the roof door. “I’ve got some splints and can reset it for you.” “You know I’ve broken this specific pinky like four times?” she asked as she trotted down the stairs in front of him, as he closed the door to the roof. 

“You need some milk,” He chuckled as they entered his apartment. She shrugged and went to hit the coffee on while Justin went to get his first aid kit. 

[human-monokuma]

Monodam vs Achlys Part 5: All or nothing

*Achlys was sitting on his throne, awaiting the arrival of Monodam. He was humming a random Michael Jackson to himself before the door flies open. Monodam marches into the room.*

"Heh. Took you long enough. And here I thought you might've kicked the bullet."

"Heh. I'm not the kind of bear to go down that easily. I'm going to take you down and get my mom, auntie, and my brothers' souls back."

"Well you certainly look much better than before. Alright then." *Achlys stands and draws his sword.* "Bring it on, Sinner of Lust, Monodam." *Monodam and achlys gets into their battle stances.*

[Song playing: SURVIVE by angela]

*Monodam charges at Achlys with a punch, which is dodged with Achlys swinging his sword at Monodam's head. Dam catches the blade in time, leaving himself open to be kneed in the chin. Achlys kicks him back and then charges at him. Monodam recovers and starts dodging many of Achlys's sword swings and thrusts. He blocks one of the attacks counters with a left hook which Achlys barely dodges, grazing his cheek before he punches Monodam in the gut. Monodam withstands it and then headbutts Achlys, dazing him long enough for Monodam to jab him in the gut and roundhouse kicks him in the head. Achlys catches himself and slashes Monodam's chest, causing him to back up and gets on the defensive as Achlys jumps at him with a dropkick. Monodma guards against the kick that sends him flying back at the wall, crashing into it. Monodam shakes his head and runs at Achlys once more. The two go at each other, blocking, countering, and dodging attack after attack, neither of them letting up easily.*

"Hahaha! Good! Good! You're doing really well. Now, let's kick it up a notch. Whoever is knocked out first loses!" *A dark aura bursts from Achlys.*

"Let's go!" *Achlys's sword start surging with a dark aura as he swings it at Monodam, firing dark slashes at him. Monodam starts dodging out of the way as his arm turns into a blaster cannon, firing lasers at Achlys, who dodges and deflects many of the shots with his sword. Monodam activates rockets in his boots, allowing him to soar in the air as he continues firing at Achlys, who continues to dodge the lasers. Monodam switches ammo to heat seeking rockets, firing them at Achlys as he tries to get away from the missiles. Seeing that he can't escape them forever, he slashes the missiles into pieces before they explode in his face. Monodam lands in front of the smoke, scanning for Achlys's presence. He quickly sees that Achlys has vanished and is now trying to find him when his sensors warns him that the bandit leader has appeared behind him. Monodam dodges out of the way, but this was a trap as Achlys kicks Monodam hard in the ribcage. Achlys then starts slashing at Monodam with fast and swift slashes,maneuvering around many of the monokub's guards and attempts to block his attacks. He dropkicks Monodam against the wall and then punches him hard in the gut, causing him to cough up spit. Monodam falls to his knees, trembling in pain. Monodam starts to slowly stand back up when he sees a foot being forcely planted on his and slamming him to the ground. Achlys stabs his sword into Monodam's leg, causing him to scream in pain.*

"You're a better fighter than I thought. But you aren't fighting at full strength. I know the power of the sinner of lust is far greater than this. You will need to unleash all of it if you want to win against me. Because I'm no push over. Far from it." *He removes the sword from Monodam's leg.* "You have to unlock your full potential. You have to unleash it all or you won't get far in the coming days." *Achlys's cloak turns into black demon wings as he floats in the air. An intense dark aura starts to surge from his body.*

"I am going to hit you with the most powerful attack I have.......Absolute darkness and despair will end you......Your immortality won't save your soul.....Your body can heal....But your soul still has a limit.....If you don't go all out.....Your very being....soul and all.......will be destroyed.....It's all......or nothing......" *He starts charging a powerful attack as Monodam struggles to get back on his feet. Achlys continues to charge his attack while Monodam starts to brace himself for the blast. Monodam thinks back to what Achlys said. He starts to realize what he needs to do now. Monodam closes his eyes starts to take a few deep breaths as he gets himself ready.* "Here it goes. Darkness Act 6: Despairing Erasure!!!" *Achlys fires a large powerful beam of fire and darkness at Monodam. Just before the attack strikes him, Monodam's eyes shoots open.*

MOnodam: "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" *Monodam throws a powerful punch at the attack. Monodam's form starts to change. long horns grew out of his head, his ears grew longer, dark wings grew form his back, his hands' nails turns into sharp claws with the power to rip through anything he desires, his teeth sharpens into that of a demons.* "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" *He repels the attack Achlys, who dodges out of the way. He looks down at Monodam with a smirk.*

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"Not at all.....Now that you're going at me full swing, lets enjoy this dance with everything we have.....yeah.....?"

"Fufufu.....Bring it on, Achlys......" *The two gets into their battle stances.*

[Song playing: Phenomenon by Thousand Foot Krutch]

*There was an intense air that filled the air. And then, they charge at each other with Monodam punching Achlys through the castle wall before giving pursuit. Achlys recovers and starts breathing black fire out of his mouth, which Monodam starts dodging as fast as he can. He aims another punch at Achlys, who blocks it and counters with a headbutt. He then grabs Monodam's leg and throws him into the castle. Monodam recovers and lands on his feet as he tanks another headbutt from Achlys and counters with a hard punch to his gut as Achlys punches him in the face. Achlys then swings his leg at Monodam's head, knocking him down. Monodam sweeps Achlys's legs, tripping him and then stomping him into the ground. Achlys is stomping through floor after floor until he grabs Monodam's leg and slams him through another floor. MOnodam hits the basement floor and then moves out of the way when Achlys comes down feet first, trying to crush his head in. Monodam headbutts him in the gut and then goes for an overhead kick, but Achlys blocks it and tackles Monodam with his shoulder before going on the offensive with a flurry of kicks. They strike each other in the face, Monodam with a punch to Achlys's face and Achlys with a kick to Monodam's face, hard. They both backed up to catch their breaths, both beginning to reach their respective limits. A moment of calm silence fills the air as they stare each other down. And then, they rush at each other, throwing many punches and kicks at each other. Some of their attacks connect while others are blocked. Both are going at it with everything they have left, holding nothing back, trying to gain any kind of victory in this intense battle. And one point, Achlys jumps high into the air looking down at Monodam, preparing another powerful attack. Monodam, quickly thinking that this could be his one chance at victory flies towards Achlys, charging all of his power into a single punch, praying that this will be enough to knock out Achlys.*

"BLACK MIMICRY: ZETTAFLARE!!!" *He fires a massive blast of light at the approaching Monodam who throws his punch at the beam with all his might. It starts to push him back at bit while Achlys's pushes as hard as he could with the attack. But Monodam won't surrender. He screams at the top of his lungs, mustering everything he could to push through the attack until he goes right into the beam. His skin peels off bit by bit, his body burns, the pain is near unbearable, but he doesn't give up. He keeps going and going until he reaches and decks Achlys right in the mouth, causing a massive explosion to occurs, blowing the castle remains away in a massive shockwave. From the smoke cloud, the two fighters are seen falling from the cloud. Monodam was badly hurt and is struggling to stay conscious. Most of his body parts were blown off in the explosion, most of his skin was missing, and he hardly had any strength left to keep going any further. He was nothing but a torso and an arm. Did he win? Did he beat Achlys? He doesn't know. All he knows was that he was falling into the darkness below. Before he lands, his consciousness finally fades as the darkness overcomes him.*

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???: "Monodam, sweetie....Please wake up....." *His eyes slowly start to open. There was a bright light that blinds him for a bit. His eyes took a while to adjust until he finally sees the person looking down at him with his head on her lap.*

"Good morning, my brave little cub."

"M-Mom....? Where....are......"

"Back in the world of the living, little bro. All thanks to you."

"You were amazing, Monodam! You fought like nothing I've ever seen before!"

"You kicked that Achlys guy's ass like a boss! You're one badass little brother, little brother!" *Monodam looked at everyone as his eyes notices the partly cloud blue sky. He.....He won? He won. He actually beaten Achlys. Tears of satisfaction and relief fills his soul as without thinking, he hugs Motherkuma tightly, crying on her shoulder, apologizing for the mistakes he's made in the past. She simply smiles and hugs Monodam with shirokuma, Monokid, and Monosuke joining in on the hug, letting him know without words that he's forgiven. As this happens, Monotaro and Achlys appears carrying a big bag of fish.*

"Hehehe. Looks like Monodam's awake."

"Heh. Seems like it. Alright. You can go join in on the hug. I'll start cooking the food." *Monotaro nods and leaves the fish with Achlys as he joins in on the monofamily hug.* "Well done, Monodam. You've my respect. A deal's a deal after all." *He looks at his hand and chuckles.* "Get ready, Aiguo. You're in a rude awakening." *he grips his fists before walking off to prepare dinner fro the revived Monofamily members and the victorious, yet guilt written Monodam.*

[chickenfics]

Team ‘Weekend Trip to Asgard’

Relationship: Loki x Fem!reader (SFW)

Summary: When Bruce invited you to a quick weekend getaway, you'd hardly expected your destination to be Asgard. Just like you'd hardly expected to be accompanied by two gods -- one of whom you're convinced hates your guts. But who would have thought that the God of Mischief has a thing for flowers, a talent for reciting Shakespeare, and knowledge of all the best places for stargazing? Certainly not you.

But in a weekend filled with sunny fields and boisterous feasts, with accidental skinny dipping and drunken magic tricks, you would begin to realize all the different ways Loki could surprise you. 

Word count: 6k

A/N: This fic takes place after the events of Thor: Ragnarök but imagine that Asgard didn't get destroyed and Valkyrie took over there instead of on Earth. Yeah... just don't think about the timeline too hard lol. 

Y/N is used very sparingly (I think really only a handful of times). The reader has a backstory but no physical descriptions (besides being smaller/shorter than Loki) 

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! I plan to release them weekly.

Also on Ao3

Next chapter Masterlist

Chapter 1

There could never just be a normal weekend at the compound. Because of course there couldn’t -- not when the place was filled with assassins, super-soldiers, extraterrestrial beings, and rich wise-asses with all the technology their little hearts desired.

Someone was always blowing something up or beating the shit out of someone else -- like that time Bucky had gotten a little too cocky during training and Natasha had roundhouse kicked him into next week -- or, in your case, taking a quick weekend trip to another planet. Or was it another dimension? You still weren’t entirely sure how it all worked. Hell, you had barely been out of the country, let alone outer space.

It had all started with Bruce, bless his big green heart. Though, you really couldn’t complain, on account of him and Tony kind of saving your life.

You’d been a pretty reckless teenager, a dangerous mix between impressively smart and astronomically stupid. You hadn’t had much growing up -- you’d barely had a home -- but what you lacked in physical commodities you made up for in ambition. Unfortunately for you, your ambitions had led you to make some… less than legal choices. What, were you supposed to buy the parts for your latest invention? On a retail worker's salary? Yeah fucking right.

It was all well and dandy for a while. You were good enough to not get caught, and you’d managed to engineer a lot of different things -- inventions you were proud of. But your luck had to run out sometime. At least, that’s what you’d thought as you were being shoved into a police cruiser. Great. You’d just managed to royally screw over your entire life with one little slip-up.

At least. That’s what you’d thought.

Because it turned out that some of your little trinkets were so advanced that a technician who worked in evidence, and a coincidental friend of Tony Stark, reached out to the billionaire. By some gigantic stroke of luck, he’d been impressed by your work. Banner had too, and had told you as much when he’d showed up to bail you out of jail.

Standing there in the precinct, he’d offered you a cup of coffee and asked if you wanted to come work for him. You hadn’t even known who he was until he explained that “wanna come work for me?” actually meant “hey, how would you like to work for the Avengers?”

Your first instinct had been a whopping “absolutely fucking not.” You had no desire to get roped into all that science-fi superhero government shit. And anyway, you didn’t know these people -- the probability of them being decent human beings was just as likely as them turning out to be giant assholes. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe this was it: your one big chance to get the hell out. It was certainly the best opportunity to do something with your life.

Bruce, picking up on your conflicted feelings, had reassured you that there were no strings attached. You could come by the compound, see the lab, meet some of the team, and then decide for yourself what you wanted to do. And hey, if you decided after a couple of weeks that it just wasn’t for you, no hard feelings.

You’d turned it over in your head, nursing the coffee you wouldn't drink and weighing the options, trekking down the two possible paths that your life could take. And then you’d given him a hesitant nod.

You’d seen a lot, living with the Avengers.

The rest was history, and you hadn't had a normal weekend since. Not that you were complaining. It had been nearly five years, and you still would have preferred Thor and Vision seeing who could throw Mjolnir the furthest over working a nine-to-five.

Still, when Bruce strolled into the lab one day and asked if you wanted to go to Asgard for the weekend, you weren’t exactly sure how to respond to that. Yes? Of course you wanted to go to Asgard? But also… what? That wasn't exactly the same as asking someone if they wanted to run down the street to Seven-Eleven for a burrito during their lunch break.

You’d told him all this, in that exact order, and his grin had increased with every sentence until you stopped, realizing he was now laughing at you.

“Banner,” you insisted. “I’m being serious.”

“No, I know -- I know you are, that’s why I’m laughing.”

You scowled at him, feigning annoyance.

“You’re adorable, you do know that, right?” he said, smirking crookedly before explaining that Thor had some business to take care of back home and Stark had insisted that Bruce go along with him “for moral support,” or something like that.

Apparently, Bruce had been to Asgard before.

“Wait, what? When have you been to Asgard?” you’d asked him, more than a little shocked. Again, it wasn’t like visiting the town over -- it was a whole other universe.

“It’s a long story,” he'd replied with a grimace. Oh, now you really wanted to know.

But just when you were about to ask, Bruce had looked down at his watch at an incoming message from Tony. He was being summoned to a team ‘Weekend Trip to Asgard’ meeting. You were invited to join the party after Bruce had somewhat sheepishly admitted he hadn’t run your tagging along by Tony yet. You rolled your eyes, trying to keep a smirk off your face. For a man with like a dozen PhDs, Bruce could be such an idiot sometimes. It was one of the things you loved about him.

Thor was already in Tony’s office when the two of you arrived.

“Uh, what’s Hopscotch doing here?” he pointed a finger at you. You rolled your eyes at the old nickname -- a result of you being so much younger than them, despite the fact that you were quite literally a full-grown adult. You’d told Tony this once, but he had insisted that you were "still practically a toddler” as far as he was concerned.

“I invited her,” Bruce said, stepping around before gesturing for you to take a seat.

You lowered yourself into the chair next to Thor, who smiled in greeting. You’d always liked Thor -- he was like a big puppy dog, and he always seemed to go out of his way to be kind to you. Or maybe he was just a naturally kind person in general. Either way, it hadn’t taken you long to warm up to him, despite the two of you not spending much time together.

“And why would you do that?” Tony was asking Bruce, who sat down in the chair next to you. He shrugged.

“I thought she could tag along.”

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon Tony,” Bruce drawled. “We’ve been cooped up in the lab for years. This kid,” he pointed to you, "hasn’t seen the light of day since she was like twelve.”

“That is… not true,” you interjected, blinking indignantly. The Avengers hadn’t even known you when you were twelve. Then again, it had been some time since you’d been outside the compound for more than a few hours.

“Can’t you just let us have some fun for once?” Burce was asking.

You wanted to laugh at how dorky this whole argument was, but managed to repress the urge, as you figured it wouldn’t help your “still practically a toddler” case. Tony rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Banner, a trip to Asgard is not a beach vacation. It’s dangerous.”

“Uh, actually,” Thor spoke up, raising a hand. “That’s not entirely true. Asgard is perfectly safe. Usually.”

“For an Asgardian. Not Little Miss Sunshine over here.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being patronizing, considering you had a resting bitch face that could give Sargent Barnes a run for his money, or if he was actually concerned for your safety. You were pretty sure it was both.  

“She’ll be fine,” Bruce insisted. “She’s perfectly capable of spending a few days in a city of very civilized, hospitable people,” He looked to Thor for support, and the god smiled and nodded.

"And anyway, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble,” Bruce shot you a wink that had you rolling your eyes despite your obvious smirk.

Tony, however, was definitely rolling his eyes out of annoyance. After staring at the ceiling for a moment, his somewhat intense gaze fell on you.

“Whaddya think, kid? You feel up to it?”

It was a genuine question, and you felt your heart grow a little warmer with fondness for the two scientists who had practically adopted you.

“If you’re okay with it, then yeah, I’d be up to going. I think it could be fun,” you added, with a shy glance at Thor, whose smile beamed back at you. He was more ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ than you were.

Tony heaved a dramatic sigh -- which meant that you had won. Despite his flashy exterior, the inventor was a big softie with a heart of gold. And a soft spot for kids, which tended to work out to your advantage.  

“Alright,” he muttered. “But you’d better have fun.”

“That’s my girl. Alright, what’s next? Thor?”

You raised your hands in surrender and gave him a mock salute. “Yes sir.”

The God of Thunder cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly in his seat -- which looked ridiculous, coming from such a large, imposing figure.

“Ah, yes, well… I also have someone that I would like to bring along.”

“Uh… well, you see… I think Loki should come.”

All three of you stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. Not until Tony gave a little shake of his head and said, “You're killing us here, big guy.”

Tony stayed frozen for a breath, then straightened back up, and the look on his face had you imagining the inventor launching his shoe at Thor’s head. Even Bruce was looking at the god like he had just asked them to blow up the compound or something.

“Absolutely not. And I mean it this time," Tony gestured at you as if to insist that the God of Mischief would not be getting as easy of a pass.

“Stark--”

“Don’t ‘Stark’ me. Have you lost your mind?”

“Look, I just -- I think it would be good for him to see home again.”

“Really. You wanna take Evil Jazz Hands back to his spawn point? Does that sound like a good idea to you? ‘Cause it doesn’t sound like a good idea to me,” he looked over at Bruce.

“Yeah, no, I’m with Tony on this one,” he said, glancing nervously between the two men. “Definitely not a good idea.”

“Come on, guys,” Thor insisted, forcing a smile that made you think perhaps he wasn’t as confident as he was playing himself up to be. “I’ll look after him, make sure he doesn’t do anything…” he sought for the word, “irreversible. Besides, if he stays here, you’ll have to look after him while I’m gone.”

Tony took a deep breath, once again glancing up at the ceiling. You followed his gaze, wondering what he was finding up there. Definitely not patience.

“Fine,” he groaned, rolling his head. “But if he brings an end to the Cosmos, or whatever sort of shit happens in space, that’s on you, Point Break.”

“Roger that,” Thor said, mimicking the salute you had given Tony earlier. You stifled a laugh into your shoulder, and he shot you a giddy grin.

“I feel like I’m sending all the toddlers to space,” Tony muttered wearily.

“Hey,” Bruce spoke up. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be there.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Ouch,” he winced. “That really hurts, Tony.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true. Alright,” he clapped his hands. “I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y get everything ready for you. Now get out of my sight.”

The three of you stood up. Thor gave a little bow and made for the door while Bruce patted Tony on the shoulder. The other man reciprocated, letting his hand linger a moment longer.

“I expect you to stay in touch, Banner.” It was almost a warning, but one that clearly stemmed from concern for their wellbeing.

“You know I will,” Bruce reassured, giving him a smile. Tony nodded curtly before flashing one of his own slightly empty smiles, and let his hand fall back to his side. As soon as Bruce stepped out of the way, Tony was holding his arm out. You leaned into his side, hooking your own arm around his back as he squeezed your shoulders.

“Alright, kid?”

“Alright,” you confirmed. “Thanks, old man.”

“Sure thing. Just,” he removed his arm, gently pushing you back so he could look at you. “Be careful, okay. Be smart. Can’t have my best aspiring young scientist getting lost in Asgard.”

“Pretty sure I’m your only aspiring young scientist,” you said, earning you a flick on the arm.

“Hey, don’t be a wise-ass. That’s my job.”

You laughed, grinning up at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be very safe and at least a little smart.”

“Alright, alright,” he nodded, giving you another quick side hug. “Go on, get out of here.”

You smirked as he ushered you to the door, letting go of your shoulder.

“Oh, and Y/N,” he called before you’d had a chance to make it very far. You spun on your heels.

“Yeah?”

“Have fun,” he meaningfully offered, shooting you a wink.

“What exactly does one pack for an intergalactic weekend trip?”

He had just enough time to see another smile bloom across your face before he swung the door shut.

_________________________________________

Bruce looked up from the desk in front of him, colorful holograms scattered across the clear surface.

“Huh?”

“I mean, you’ve been to Asgard before. What kind of stuff do I need to take?”

“Um,” Bruce sighed, leaning back as he swiped the holograms away. “Well, you know, clothes for a couple of days -- it gets kind of cold at night, so maybe take a sweatshirt or something. Toiletries… uh, you know… a book, if you want…” he shrugged, blushing modestly.

“Very helpful, thank you,” you deadpanned.

Technically Bruce was your boss, but your relationship had never felt like one between an employee and their employer. The two of you had become good friends more than anything, and Bruce had never, not once, pulled his rank on you. You figured he probably hadn’t even considered it a possibility. He was a sweet guy, despite what the general public thought of him thanks to his big green friend -- who you had yet to meet.

“You’re welcome,” the scientist deadpanned right back, and a second later you were both grinning.

“I’m excited,” you whispered, smirking at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Also kinda nervous. Okay, very nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you with a smile before turning back to the table. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You were inclined to believe him. Still, you had never been off-planet. Even thinking in terms of “off-planet” made your head spin a little. Before you’d met the Avengers, you hadn’t even been on a plane. You could remember the first time you’d flown in one of Tony’s private jets -- the bubbling excitement mixed with a roil of anxiety. You wondered if your trip to Asgard was going to be a similar experience.

“Hey Bruce?”

“Hm?” he hummed, already distracted by his work, but trying his very hardest to focus some of his attention on you.

“How do we get to Asgard? Like, do we take a spaceship, or…”

Bruce dragged his eyes away from his work long enough to give you a look of amusement.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you,” he said with a tilt of his eyebrow.

Whatever you’d been expecting when Bruce had told you to “wait and see,” this wasn’t it. You’d expected some massive rocket hidden in one of the various bunkers beneath the compound, or maybe a portal of some sort, like the ones Doctor Strange could conjure. Or so you’d heard, you’d never actually met the wizard -- sorry, sorcerer. You’d been spending too much time with Sam.

Whatever you’d been expecting, it definitely wasn’t this.

The next morning, Bruce had knocked softly on the door to your room, and you had greeted him, bleary and half-conscious but awake. It was alarmingly early. You weren’t exactly sure why you had to leave at the ass-crack of dawn, but a hunch told you it probably had something to do with Tony planning the whole thing. The man liked to wake up before literally every other human being on the planet, because “that’s when work gets done.” You were pretty sure he just didn’t sleep.

With whispered good mornings, you slung your bag over your shoulder and, sparing one last glance at your room, followed Bruce through the hallway. The compound was dark, with most of the residents still sleeping, or, for the more ambitious ones, pent up in the training room. It was silly, but you almost felt like you were sneaking out. The only time you’d ever woken up this early as a kid was when you definitely were sneaking out -- and look where that had landed you: about to leave the Avengers’ compound for a casual trip to Asgard. Wild times.

Bruce led you outside, and when the door to the compound slid shut and locked behind you, the sudden realization that you were really doing this hit you square in the face. This wasn’t a dream. You were actually going to Asgard.

That jittery feeling only grew, along with your confusion as the scientist led you across one of the fields that surrounded the building. The morning air was crisp and cold, and a dense mist hung in the air, the perspiration clinging to your sweatshirt. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs, and let it out in a sigh. Bruce looked over his shoulder to smile at you.

“Feels nice to be out in the wild, doesn’t it?” he said, his baritone voice sounding out of place in the quiet of the morning. You hummed, smiling at the way the early morning dew was making the ends of your pant legs wet.

After a minute or so of walking, you caught a glimpse of two forms standing off in the distance -- looking rather ominous thanks to the fog, despite the fact that you knew who they were and had nothing to fear. Well, that applied to only one of them, actually.

You had only met Loki a handful of times, and you were still pretty wary of him. He was the God of Mischief, after all -- a name which he lived up to in more ways than one. He was… intimidating, and not in the way Thor had initially been intimidating, all muscles and boisterous energy. No, Loki made you feel wary in a way you’d never experienced before. You got the idea that the god didn’t like you very much.

Then again, it seemed that he didn’t like anybody. The first time you’d met, he’d looked down at you from his towering height and you’d gotten the sense that he was annoyed by your very existence. His eyes were piercing -- unsettlingly so -- and you’d found yourself shrinking away from his dignified gaze, suddenly very aware of your status as a measly human.

Still, he hadn’t said much to you -- or anything at all, if you remember correctly -- so he’d never really given you a reason to fear him, though there was a part of you that did, considering his reputation. Regardless, you supposed that he’d shown you a kindness by blatantly ignoring you. You felt a flutter of nerves as you realized that it was probably about to get a lot harder for the two of you to continue keeping your distance.

A few paces ahead of you, the two brothers stood side by side, tendrils of fog swirling around their legs. Thor was wearing his usual getup, red cape and all, and Loki had on a tunic covered by a stiff-looking piece that vaguely resembled a vest before trailing down into a cloak that hung around his legs. Asgardian clothes, you assumed. You looked down at your own clothes and realized you were going to be sticking out like a sore thumb. You felt your cheeks already heating up from embarrassment, which you just managed to choke down as you reached the Asgardians.

“Ah,” Thor grinned, spinning around to greet you. “My little green friend and his littler, not-so-green friend.”

“Yeah, keep calling us that and your ‘little green friend’ might not stay so little,” Bruce muttered. Thor just laughed it off and clapped a hand on your shoulder.

“Well little friend, are you ready for your first trip through the transporter?”

“Um,” you blinked up at the god. “What’s a transporter?”

Loki gave a muted huff, and your eyes wandered over to him before flickering quickly away. Thor just smiled kindly at you.

“You’re about to find out,” he sang, sounding much more excited than you felt. Your stomach twisted.

Thor turned away, and Bruce’s hand replaced his on your shoulder, giving you an encouraging pat before stooping down to grab his luggage.

“Alright, everyone. Hold onto anything you don’t want getting left behind,” Thor said, glancing up at the sky.

Your eyes widened, and you shot out a hand to grab Bruce’s arm.

“N-Not me, just our stuff,” he chuckled.

Oh. You let go of him with a sheepish smile, managing to remain calm despite the fact that you could feel your heart hammering against your ribs. By now you had realized that, however you were getting to Asgard, it wasn’t going to be on a spaceship.

“Heimdall,” Thor’s voice boomed out into the misty morning.

What on Earth was a Heimdall? Some sort of magic spell?

You heard a subtle crackling in the air, like all the energy was being pulled in one direction. Then all of the sudden, with a loud crash that had your bones rattling, a beam of multi-colored light began plummeting towards the four of you.

You gasped, grabbing onto the nearest body just as the light crashed onto the earth, engulfing you in a blinding flash.

It felt like the very fabric of your cells were being ripped apart. It didn’t hurt -- you could barely feel anything, save for someone’s clothes, which you had balled tightly in your fists. A fierce wind whipped around you, and you could see the flashes of color and light even from behind your tightly closed eyes. You felt as your body was seemingly launched through the air, and then it was over as quick as it had started.

The first thing you registered was the solid ground once again beneath your feet. The second thing was your still-firm hold on someone, which was the only thing that held you up until your legs stopped shaking. Managing to straighten into an upright position, you leaned against the person you’d grabbed hold of and took a few deep breaths. You felt as if you’d dissolved and were now coming back together, and it was making your stomach turn.

Inhaling a deep breath through your nose that smelled faintly of pine and cotton, you peeled your eyes open. It took you a second to realize that you were staring into someone’s back, your fingers still squeezing the dark green fabric of their cloak.

Wait a minute. Shit.

You jerked your head up, quickly releasing your hold on Loki. He turned sideways to look down at you, his face an emotionless mask, but his hand was gently gripping your elbow in something akin to support. When he saw you look up at him in mounting horror, he let go.

“S-Sory,” you managed, hastily crossing your arms. “Sorry,” You said it again, mortified. How had that even happened? You swore Bruce had been standing closer to you than… Fuck.

Loki stared down at you, eyes narrowing slightly, and your anxiety was traded for confusion as you realized that he didn’t exactly look angry like you’d expected. Uncomfortable, yes, but not upset. He gave a quick smile -- it was more of a grimace, really -- and nodded once, holding his hand out in gesture. You shot a wide-eyed look towards his feet before stepping past him.

You were in some sort of giant dome. The walls were gilded, and you thought you could see some giant cog-like mechanisms through the dim light. The floor shimmered beneath your feet, and the air felt richer, almost heavy, as if you were wading through it. A few feet away, Thor was helping Bruce find his legs, giving him encouraging pats on the back.

“I’ll never… get used… to that,” the scientist panted.

“No, I suppose no mortal ever does,” Thor nonchalantly replied. Then, noticing you, his smile widened.

“Well,” he gestured. “How was it?”

“Uh,” you hummed, not exactly sure what to say. You still hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment of practically crawling onto Loki’s back out of fright. Your mind would definitely never let you live that one down.

“It was… fine -- yeah, it was fine,” you managed, slowly turning to peek at Loki, who had come to stand next to you. You couldn’t be sure, considering you sill hadn’t worked up the courage to look him in the eyes, but you thought you saw him smirk.

If he had, it was gone as quickly as it had been there.

“Thor,” a baritone voice echoed through the dome. You jumped -- barely catching yourself before you bumped right back into Loki. He definitely smirked this time. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to relax.

“Shall we get moving, brother?” he impatiently muttered. “I’d prefer to be on our way before--”

Which proved to be hard, when you got a glimpse of the man walking towards you. He was huge. Though not any bigger than Thor or Loki, his armor made him look massive -- a large golden chest plate that extend up and past his shoulders, and a helmet adorned with wide horns outlining his face. You got one look at the giant blade he was carrying and tensed. Instinct told you to retreat as he stepped down from the platform in the middle of the room and headed towards you, but Loki was still directly at your back, and you’d rather get decapitated by a terrifying man in armor than make even more of a fool of yourself, so you stayed put.

“Heimdall,” Thor smiled, reaching out to place a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. “It is good to see you.”

“And you,” Heimdall cordially replied. “I sensed you had guests,” he gave Bruce a nod, and then glanced over at you.

You were surprised by how gentle his face was, compared to the armor that covered the rest of him. His vibrant golden eyes were filled with kindness, and he gave you an amiable smile.

“Welcome to Asgard,” he nodded. Feeling your fear drain away, you returned his smile.

“Heimdall,” Loki tersely greeted.

“Loki,” the man replied, a new hitch to his voice, though it wasn’t exactly unkind -- which gave his next words some extra meaning.

“Welcome home.”

You felt Loki tense up behind you, and the god fell silent.

“I have your steeds prepared,” Heimdall told the group, gesturing to an opening in the dome. Then, leaning closer to Thor, he said, “She’s been informed of your arrival, and is expecting you at the palace.”

“Thank you, Heimdall,” Thor replied, giving him another pat on the shoulder before turning to the rest of you. “Follow me,” he announced, his smirk betraying his excitement.

You, on the other hand, had felt your fear return at the mention of “steeds.” You could only guess what that meant, and sure enough, just outside the dome, there were four of the biggest horses you had ever seen in your life, lined up and waiting more patiently than you thought a horse could. Then again, you were fairly certain these weren’t regular horses. At least, not the kind you were used to -- or rather, not used to.

But your worries about the inevitable ride ahead were swiftly forgotten when you caught sight of the view. A galaxy swam above your head and stretched around you, wide and expansive, making you feel undeniably small in the best way. Beneath your feet was a semi-translucent bridge, peppered with glowing flecks of every color you’d ever known and then some. It seemed to pulse with life, beams darting through the clear surface. You spun, stepping in a wide circle as you looked down at the bridge with giddy awe.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, grinning to yourself as your eyes followed the streaks of light.

Then out of nowhere, someone was grabbing your arm and yanking you backward. You let out a little squeak as your head snapped up. Once again, you found yourself staring into the sea-green fabric of Loki’s clothes -- only this time, it was the tunic across his chest. You really had to stop ending up like this.

He let go of your arm the second you’d both retreated a few steps, and you craned your head around to see that you had gotten near the edge of the bridge, which seemed to drop off into… space? Your blood turned icy as you realized what had been about to happen.

“Careful, little mouse,” came Loki’s slightly taunting voice. “I’m fairly certain that Stark would like you back.”

There was a dry bite to his tone, but somehow he managed to not sound entirely heartless. You glanced up into his piercing eyes, and he stared back at you unwaveringly. For once, you were able to return the favor.

“Thanks,” you said, voice coming out stronger than you felt.

Again, the God of Mischief narrowed his eyes, then gave a curt nod before heading over to his steed. You watched as he pulled himself onto the giant horse with as much grace as if he was weightless. Sitting atop the animal, cloak furling across its haunches, he looked every bit the king you imagined he could make. Daunting, impressive, a bit terrifying.

As you made your way over to the other horses, you were certain you could feel his eyes following you. Sure enough, when you glanced over your shoulder, Loki was suddenly looking in the other direction. You tilted your head before turning back around.

Thor had just finished helping Bruce up onto one of the horses. Your mentor looked comically small on top of the giant animal, his complexion a little ashen. Noticing you watching, he tried to pass you a smile.

“You’ll be fine, just, uh… hold on."

“Oh, good, yeah -- that makes me feel a whole lot better, thank you.” Despite your sarcasm and your nerves, you managed to crack a smile. You’d always wanted to ride a horse -- now was apparently your chance.

“Alright Y/N,” Thor said, clapping his hands together as he came over to you. “Would you like me to give you a leg up, or lift you on?”

You glanced over at the horse you’d apparently be riding, a heavily muscled creature with an ink black coat, and bit the inside of your cheek.

“A leg up, please," you decided.

Thor stooped down, intertwining his fingers and holding his hands out for you. Placing your foot gingerly on his palms, you began to apply some pressure. You knew it was ridiculous, all things considered, but you were afraid of hurting him.

“Come on, up you go,” Thor encouraged, grabbing your foot and squeezing it as if to say ‘you literally couldn’t hurt me if you tried.’

You nodded and then dropped all your weight into your left leg, standing up on Thor’s hand. He gave you a little boost and helped throw your right leg over the horse. Dragging yourself up, you nearly fell over the saddle as you sat down and slid your feet into the stirrups.

Huffing softly, you smiled down at Thor, who shot you two thumbs up before heading over to his own horse. He mounted with a comical amount of ease compared to how you’d just gotten on, and settled into the saddle like it was the most natural thing in the world.  

“Alright. Try not to fall off, everybody,” Thor called, grabbing his horse's reins. Loki scoffed, shaking his head.

“About time,” you heard him mutter before spurring his horse forward.

On the other side of you, Thor’s horse began to move as well. Your hand shot out to grab the front of the saddle, gripping it until your knuckles turned white, while your other hand held the reins in a similar death-grip.

“Okay,” you murmured, looking down at your steed. “Please don’t kill me.”

You swore the horse actually laughed at you before, with an elegant shake of its head, it began to take off at a trot that had you nearly bouncing out of the saddle. You held on tighter, squeezing with your legs as the horses picked up speed. With a giant leap, they began galloping across the bridge, their hoove sending sparks of color up into the air.

The gallop was a much more comfortable pace, and after you got the rhythm of it, you no longer felt like you were going to be catapulted off the bridge. With the wind streaming past you and the flashes of color dazzling your eyes, you couldn’t help but grin, an ecstatic laugh erupting from your chest.

You let go of the saddle, instead choosing to wind your fingers through your horse's mane, and leaned into the gallop with more confidence than you would have expected. That’s when you finally managed to glance around you. Bruce was looking a little green -- less ‘Incredible Hulk’ and more ‘I’m about to puke’ -- and you felt a twinge of sympathy amid your excitement. The poor guy was not having a good time.

Thor was keeping a close eye on him, but broke his focus long enough to look over at you. Seeing your grin, a smile of his own appeared, and he gave you a little wave. Laughing, you released your horse's mane for long enough to wave back. Whipping your head around, still relishing in the intoxicating power of the animal beneath you, you were met with an equally impressive sight.

Loki looked staggeringly majestic, sitting tall in the saddle as he moved effortlessly with his horse’s stride, an almost bored expression on his face. Still, his features seemed less severe, and if you didn’t know better, you would have guessed he was having fun. Noticing your staring, he glanced over at you and your eyes connected. You gave him a small smile, and he cocked an eyebrow, an oh-so-subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

If you hadn’t been expecting to have so much fun, you could guess that he probably hadn’t expected it either. But you were having fun -- a lot of fun. So, when the loom of Asgard rose larger in your vision, you found yourself almost wishing the bridge was a little longer.

Thor reined his horse back first, stopping at the open gate, where two guards were waiting. Following his lead, you pulled back on your own reins, and your horse slowed to a gentle stop. Leaning over the animal, you furiously rubbed its neck, which was only slightly damp from the exertion.

“Thanks for the ride, big guy,” you whispered, grinning from ear to ear. “And also not killing me."

You heard a quick huff of laughter off to your left, and looked over to see Loki had already dismounted.

He was turned away from you, patting his horse’s neck much like you had, but he was smiling. You let out a breathless chuckle, your already flushed face feeling hotter with embarassment. Loki seemed to do that to you -- and you hadn't even been around him that long. At least he wasn’t glaring at you anymore.

The sound of a fracas to your right drew your attention away. Thor was currently in the process of trying to help Bruce off his horse. Holding him firmly by hips, the God of Thunder was attempting to drag him out of the saddle, much to Bruce's protest.

“Now-- hey, just w-- hold on a minute--"

“Let go, Banner,” Thor insisted through grit teeth, trying to sound encouraging. “I’ve got you.”

“Having fun, Little Mouse?”

You covered your mouth with a hand and tried not to burst out laughing.

Whipping around at the voice’s proximity, you found Loki standing next to your mount, a sly grin on his face. You chuckled nervously and gave a teasing shrug of your shoulders, surprised when Loki arched an eyebrow in reply. Then, growing more serious, he held out his hand, palm up.

“May I?”

It gave you pause. You hadn’t exactly thought about having to get off of the horse, which suddenly felt as tall as a mountain, much less with the help of an actual god. Well, a god that wasn’t Thor, at least.

“Oh, uh…” you nodded, trying to calm your racing heart. Now that the adrenaline had all but fled your body, you were starting to feel very unsteady -- a tremble had set into your limbs that you hoped wasn’t noticeable.

Leaning over the saddle, you stood up and took your right foot out of the stirrup. Swinging your leg behind you, you shifted so you were hanging off the side of the horse. It took you a minute to prop yourself up in order to drop the other stirrup, but the moment you did, you felt yourself falling.

“Easy now,” Loki mumbled, bending slightly over you, keeping his arm around your waist until you’d managed to regain your balance.

Your grip tightened on the saddle a moment before you felt strong hands at your waist. Right. Loki was there to help you. You didn’t know if that made you feel better or worse. Releasing the saddle, you let the Asgardian guide you swiftly to the ground. The minute your feet hit, you felt your knees buckle. You lurched forward, but the grip around your waist tightened, holding you up.

“Jeez,” you panted. “Sorry, my legs aren’t working very well at the moment.”

“I gathered,” he dryly replied. "First time on a horse?”

You turned around, wobbling only slightly, and Loki released you, though his arms continued to hover.

“Yeah,” you replied, grinning despite yourself. “It was amazing.”

“Hm,” Loki huffed, but again, you saw that almost invisible smirk, which, now that you were closer, you realized came with a characteristically mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Hey,” you heard the sound of Bruce’s voice and turned. Loki’s hands darted back to his side as if you’d burned him.

“How ya doing?” the scientist asked, concern deepening the lines on his face.

“Good. Great. That was fun."

“Uh, no,” Thor insisted, appearing out of nowhere and throwing an arm around your shoulder, tightening it until you were dragged to his side, where he used his free hand to gently ruffle a fist across the top of your head. “She’s fitting right in. A little Asgardian in the making.”

Bruce shook his head. "You’re insane.”

“Thor,” you grumbled, trying to shove him away, a frantic laugh filling your chest as he poked you in the side.

“Sorry to break up the party,” Loki cut in, raising a slender eyebrow at his brother. “But I believe we’re being expected.” He gestured to the guards, who did in fact seem to be waiting for some sort of instruction from Thor.

“Right,” the god chirped, finally releasing you and heading over to the armored Asgardians.

You straightened up with a good-natured huff, sweeping your hands down the front of your crumbled shirt and rolling your eyes at Bruce, who smirked back at you. Readjusting his bag to his other side, he, too, threw his arm around your shoulder, though in a much more gentle manner than Thor. Tugging you close, the two of you headed after the God of Thunder, with Loki trailing a few steps behind.

[vicious-vixxxen]

Hi, first of all ur work is amazing and awesome, especially the Kiri fics they make me feel so warm inside :)) ANYWAYS I have a drabble idea: Katsuki with a flirty male reader from 1-B that likes to tease him and make him flustered and fired up as much as possible (kinda like Monoma but not as aggressive) and finally Katsuki decides that it’s reader’s turn to get all flustered and blushing and all that hehe :)

AH I absolutely LOVE this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to it babes, but I hope you enjoy it :3 <3 Bakugou Katsuki X Flirty Male!Reader

“You think /you’re/ tired? I heard class A had to go through ten times the beasts we did yesterday, /and/ they didn’t get to camp until five.” TetsuTetsu huffed, rolling his eyes as he continued to rub at his sore biceps- falling behind as the class walked to their first official day of training. “They’re probably still struggling to work as an actual unit, how disappointing,” Monoma drawled, flinching as Kendo raised a hand at him in warning- her gaze cutting back to you with an apologetic smile, but you shrugged her off. “I’m just saying, if they were half as good as everyone assumes they are, then we wouldn’t have had to make dinner for everyone /alone/ yesterday. A bunch of unimpressive slackers, the fame is definitely getting to them.” “Oh give it a rest, Monoma! I swear if I have to keep listening to your incessant whining i’m going to roundhouse you so hard you slip into an alternate dimension,” You teased, though the sharpness of your tone, and the look you fixed the other boy with managed to reduce him to nothing more than some bitter grumbling, as you jogged ahead to follow directly behind Vlad-Sensei.

“Young Y/N is right! No use in comparing yourself to a separately tiered class, what you all should be doing is preparing yourselves for a day full of grueling training!” Vlad called out to the class behind him, as they came to their final stop. Looking out across the vast fields of the camp, where class 1A was already deep in training. All of them spread out to various areas of the site, some farther out than others, you assumed due to the volatile nature of their quirks. Some out of site all together, given the specificity needed to train their quirks. “The Wild Wild Pussycats have strict regimens for you all to follow, and I as well have critiques for you all regarding your fighting style, and quirk application. Check in with them across the field first, and regroup back to me so we can begin!” “Yes Sensei!” You all chanted back, before hurrying off across the field to do as you were told. Though once you caught sight of- and really, it was more his blood curdling death screams that you noticed first, music to your ears honestly- unruly blonde spikes off in the distance, you reasoned you had at least a few minutes to spare. Giving your classmates time to get their schedules and regimes before you could swoop in for yours last minute. The heat from Bakugou’s blasts was intense- your hair blowing back each time the other boy extended his palms to the sky, screamed, and released an explosion. The air felt thick, the scent of sweaty flesh, and deep, rich caramel wafting against your face, heady, and thick, with each blast. It was intoxicating. The closer you got, the more your cheeks flushed- though it had nothing to do with the heat anymore. Up close, or as close as you could get without being blown back entirely, that is- the more handsome Bakugou became. Pinched, angry expression and all. His front fringe of hair hanging low on his forehead, dripping sweat down onto his cheeks, and then onto the exposed upper half of his chest, bared due to his low rising tank top. When was Bakugou not absolutely breathtaking, you wondered idly, as you reached into your backpack for a bottle of water, and whistled loudly between blasts to catch the blonde's attention. Though the glare he fixed you with as your eyes met almost, almost deterred you from closing the distance between you both, it didn’t quite reach the innermost parts of your brain, meant for rational thought. “What the hell do you want!? Can’t you see i’m busy? Take your ass back to your class, extra!” Bakugou shouted, gaze falling to the bottle of water in your hand, before he focused back in on his task, baring his teeth in pain as the boiling water engulfed his hands. But you were too close now, it was too risky, and before you could think to back away on your own, Bakugou was crowding up against you. Spinning around on his heels and blasting in the opposite direction, back to you now. Shoving you backwards so hard with his own body you fell to the ground. Hissing as you landed on a particularly sharp rock. “See what you did?! I could’ve accidentally taken someone else out because of you! Fucking...gimme that,” Bakugou growled, shaking his hands of the smoke from his blast, before bending down to snatch the chilled bottle of water from your hand with one of his- his other reaching down to take hold of the front of your shirt, and tug you back up to stand next to him. “Always in my way!” Bakugou hissed, before throwing his head back and chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. Wiping at his mouth roughly, he turned to you slightly, noting the mischievous smile on your face, and the dirt on your shorts. “Tch...what?” He asked, knowing he was walking himself right into a trap. “Just admiring the view,” You sing-songed, skirting around his sudden extended fist easily, and dancing around the boy to get a good look at his training clothes. “It’s not everyday I get to see UA’s own Bakugou Katsuki in the midst of an intense training session. All sweaty, and bulking- muscles just….grr,” You laughed, holding your hands up in front of your face as you growled and made pawing motions at the other boy- bursting into a fit of laughter ass he reeled back, blush high on his cheeks, fingers twitching with the urge to blas your fucking face off. “You’re an insufferable piece of!-” “What I can’t seem to wrap my head around, is how you have such a big chest, such defined shoulders, and such a teeny, tiny waist,” You sighed, cutting Bakugou off with your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side curiously as you scanned him up and down. “Your tits are bigger than most of the girls in your class, ya know,” You added, as if an afterthought, waving a hand passively at the thought, though you couldn’t help but grin as Bakugou charged you- dragging you up by the front of your shirt again, and pinning you to the barrel of boiling water. One hand holding your head down near the bubbling surface, and one right next to your ear, sparking with unlit nitroglycerin. “I. Don’t. Have. Tits. You. Shitty. Extra.” Each word was laced with venom, husky and full of rage right next to your ear, and god. Was it fucked up you were kind of turned on? Probably. About as fucked up as it was to be genuinely attracted to Bakugou in the first place, you supposed. Oh well. Not much to be done about it now. “Say that to the mounds pressing up against my back right now, babe,” You teased, turning your head to face Bakugou, your noses barely brushing as you leaned in as best you could, given the hand in your hair- mouth curling into a knowing smirk as Bakugou’s face twisted back and forth- confusion, rage, annoyance, misunderstanding...want. “I’m sure your teacher would be thrilled to see you over here keeping one of my students from his training, instead of focusing on your own abilities,” Someone sighed from your right, and both you and Bakugou’s head whipped up to see Aizawa leaning against a tree, staring at the both of you with the most bored expression you could imagine someone having. “Tried to get the loser away from me, but he’s as persistent as the rest of his annoying class,” Bakugou huffed, letting you go, but not before pushing you in the direction of his teacher roughly- crackling his knuckles out in front of himself, and shaking his hands out. Prepared to continue his training. Though thoughts of your stupid face, so close to his- scent of your shampoo, and minty breath still searing his nose made him a trillion times more annoyed then he’d already been. The color of your eyes stuck with him the most though. So clear. So shiny. Full of authority, of mirth, and something so...gut wrenchingly /cute/, he couldn’t stand it. “Sorry, EraserHead. Didn’t mean to disturb your student. Was just being friendly is all,” You assured the older Hero, hands up in surrender as you walked alongside side him, and back to regroup with your class- smiling smugly to yourself when you noticed the barest hint of a smirk on Eraserheads face, just before he turned away and skulked off to whatever dark, cozy corner he had been observing his students from.

Training felt like it had lasted forever, and then some. The following days were no easier. Your bodies were pushed to their limits, and then thrown off the metaphorical cliff afterwards. Every day, class A and B were sore, tired, irritable. But even then, once lunch, and dinner came around, it offered you all a chance to get to know one another more intimately. You talked, and mingled with class 1A- flirting with Todoroki for fun, and picking Midoriya’s brain about his hero notebook- unaware of the red eyes following your every move amongst the classmates. Your flirting with Bakugou was at an all time high- given you could usually spare a handful of minutes each day teasing the young man, whether it be with words during training, lingering touches, or brushes of hands, and legs during dinner, or with outright winks, and kisses blown to the blonde as you all departed to your cabins for the night. It infuriated Bakugou to no end. Your presence. The way he acted out against you...his mother would suggest he needed an attitude adjustment, and that he should allow the fun part of camp to take precedent over his ultimate number one hero goal. As if he’d ever. But still, her frustrated words of encouragement never ceased to ease up as the days went by, and you became bolder with your flirting. Bakugou felt on edge constantly, like someone was going to crack a whip at him at any moment. Say something about it, say something about /him/, but no one ever did. Probably because they were scared. His only saving grace, he supposed. Being intimidating. Though he didn’t intimidate /you/, which was the part he hated the most. ...He’d just have to switch up his tactics, then. His mother would be proud. God, he hated that. After a particularly grueling day of training, everyone was running on fumes, more or less, as they shuffled around the outdoor kitchen, prepping dinner lazily. Monoma picking stupid fights with whoever he came across first, as though he were too tired to even do that. You’d been chatting quietly to Mina and Jirou about some of your favorite albums, when a whistle from across the counters had all three of you lifting your heads. Curiosity piqued to the fullest extent, as your gaze landed on Bakugou- pointing at you with a hard expression, before gesturing to the spot next to him at the cutting board station. His eyes downcast again before you could even register what was going on, before hurrying to head over before whatever demon that had possessed Bakugou, decided to get the fuck out of such a toxic human host. Beaming, you came to stand at Bakugou’s side, arms brushing against each other as you glanced down at the finely minced veggies the boy was working on. “You rang?” Brows raised in question, you ducked your head to try and catch the boy’s eyes again- stopping dead in your tracks as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tightly, and slid a knife between your fingers. Tugging you impossibly closer to his side, and reaching an arm around you to grab a stray carrot. Boxing you into the bench, and maneuvering your fingers carefully as he began to force you to chop the carrot below. His front was flush with your back, and suddenly you couldn’t breath. Breath hitched in your throat, flush high on your cheeks, as Bakugou bent down, face right next to yours, as he forced you to chop, knife always skirting a little /too/ close to your fingertips, but fuck it all if you weren’t willing to lose them for this encounter to continue. “All this time and you haven’t even learned to chop properly. Make yourself more useful, you shitty extra,” He grunted, right into your ear. A sharp shock of arousal shooting down your spine as he spoke, looking away suddenly as Bakugou turned to try and meet your gaze. “Eh? What’s the problem, extra? Cat got your fucking tongue?’ He teased, harshly, though his grasp on your hands lessened, and fuck you were gonna pass out if you didn’t start breathing soon. “Oh,” He huffed suddenly, snickering under his breath, as he crowded you in up against the bench entirely, completely flush with your back, before his lips ghosted the shelf of your ear, and he whispered “-probably because of my big tits, huh? Tch.” And then he was gone. Gone from your back, gone from the shell of your ear, gone from giving you a religious fucking experience, and thankfully gone from nearly making you jizz your jeans in front of the entireety of class A and B. Your hands shook where they now held the knife solo, and you glanced over your shoulder- watching Bakugou stuff his hands in his pockets, arch his shoulders, and stalk off to the cabins. Though not before you also caught the sharp, devilish smirk that twisted up on his face. What a fucking DICK. But a dick who was handsome as fuck, and knew exactly what he was doing. “Alright, Bakugou, you wanna play, big boy?” You whispered to yourself, voice shaky as you continued chopping vegetables. “I’ll bite. Show you how it’s done...right after I pass out, Jesus fucking Chri-” 

[selinakidreams]

hello hello hello ! this is my comfort piece for @doinmybesthere ‘s mental health awareness month collab! and I’d just like to say a huge thank you to emme for creating such a wonderful collab and thank you for letting me be apart of it.

paring: kirishima eijirou (I’m talking 7ft big strongman vibes) x empathic quirk f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 3.7k +

genre: hurt/comfort + fluff

warnings: mentions of anxiety & toxic friendships, instigating with means to harm- please let me know if I missed anything!!

a/n: this I think,, was the best way to approach what has tormented me for years. it was a reoccurring thing for me but I never handled it properly, and just this year, someone important taught me that I deserve more than what I’ve been putting myself through. so here it is! I also think that once my schedule clears up, I’m gonna make a sister piece to this but idk !! let me know if you guys would be interested in that!

++ the absolute biggest thank you to my betas/flow checkers @doinmybesthere @lady-bakuhoe @keishinslove BIG kith

pss. the first person who can guess my love language based off this fic wins a prize

Turning other’s confidence to despair, gloating to fear, persistence to tiredness, motivation into loss- but all you felt was drained. The overuse of your quirk left your head feeling full of cotton; Your chest heaving and vision slightly blurry. 

You arrived late to the fight because what started as a relaxing day off quickly turned into a rush to get to the streets. Thankfully Red Riot had been on the scene, waist-deep and stalling a full-fledged fight between two combat villains until backup came. 

His tired eyes met yours and you flashed him a hopeful smile until witnessing the villain get a short-termed upper hand. They landed a solid punch, which caused you to feel not only the repercussions of the shock-inducing impact but your building guilt of being a distraction.

Years of training reminded you not to let it get to your head, your hero instincts kicking in after emotionally experiencing that strike. Heart pumping with adrenaline, you began to focus your heart and mind, simultaneously tuning into what those around you were feeling, never forgetting to keep your eyes wide and alert. 

Confidence, eagerness, perseverance, exhaustion, determination. 

Taking a breath as you ease into a rhythm, you kept your sights on the two people who were attacking the boulder of a hero and finally, a steady grasp.

Quirk at work, the familiar mental image of loose strings flowing in the wind appeared, and you grabbed a hold of them, symbolizing that you had caught hold of their feelings and wasted no time on bending and contorting to your will. You watched as their actions became slower and less motivated, making it easier for Kirishima to handle. He must have realized what was happening, a new surge of elation pumped through him as he began to knock both of the villains down a peg. 

Seeing him fight had always been such a marvel to watch; it was so easy to be mesmerized by the sheer enthusiasm he had while trying to keep the balance and execute justice. Kirishima Eijirou was a hero in all senses of the word- and not just any hero, your hero- as cheesy as it sounded.

Secured under his weight and possibly unconscious, Red Riot looked around, a bit disheveled, until his gaze found yours. Expecting to be met with the warm sincere smile that always made your heart flutter, your heart sunk when you saw his eyes turn wide and frantic as he called out your hero name. 

On top of feeling a bit dizzy from honing into those particular subjects and manipulating two people at once, a wave of distress washed over you, adding to the unfavorable aftermath of pushing your quirk. 

You were quick to whip around, finding another villain was closing in closer than expected. You dropped all previous controls and focused solely on the person in front of you. 

“You had gotten better since the last time I saw you,” they sneered as they attempted to land a hard-hitting kick to your stomach. 

Missing by a hair, you pushed past the dreariness in your head and went straight into a defensive position.

The close-cut dodge wasn’t the only thing to throw you off; now you had realized why Kirishima looked at you like that; your traumatic past, the one you had divulged to him in the safety of your home, warbling with tears streaking your cheeks, was coming back to roughhouse with the intent of ending in a knockout. 

Fear twisted into gut-wrenching anxiety; the plummeting feeling hit the bottom of your stomach with a harsh thud.

In front of you stood the unmistakable frame of someone you had considered to be one of your closest friends for a time; someone that seemed so natural to be with, someone you divulged secrets and shared smiles with, someone that had made it seem like separation was not an option- now turned villain, sporting a suited evil smirk smeared on their face. 

It was hard not to let the tears collect on your waterline, thinking about the whirlwind of your relationship as your gaze met theirs for the first time in years. Months and months of triggered breakdowns, cold sweats from various nightmares, and countless tears have been shed as time progressed, the sinking feeling of long-lost fear that they had put you through now showing its ugly head; the thought you had convinced yourself for so long- that you ended up not even being worth their time starting to resurface. 

It had been hard to learn the lessons that were dealt and see the mistakes made on both parts- not just yours, to pick up all the shattered expectations of what a true friendship is, but you had. Now you were able to sort through the wrong sorts and had gotten emotionally and mentally stronger because of it; in many ways, the ending of the friendship helped you realize that there were ways you deserved to be treated, and like shit wasn’t one of them.

However, it almost seemed like all the progress you had made swirled down the drain now that they were in front of you. It was like you were experiencing the heartbreak of them ending the friendship all over again.

“Awww! The poor little hero is still heartbroken after I left her?” their tone patronizing as they jutted out their bottom lip to form an exaggerated pout. “Look at you! I can practically see the desperation on your face- desperate for me to come back? You’ve always been so fucking clingy. But you know, the news has you pinned as like... some kind of saint… no, no. You’re nothing but a selfish attention whore playing the good guy... so I just wanted to stop by and remind you of the truth.” they sneered, really aiming to trigger your trauma. 

You had opened up to them about all your fears; from the smallest to the all-consuming ones, so for them to be targeting you like this… they must have thought that you haven’t changed- and you fucking have. You worked damn hard to do so; You’ve grown and have started appreciating yourself more, started loving yourself more, started working on yourself more. The villain was only targeting your past worries, keyword, past.

Regardless, you were already feeling too much as is and the best thing you could do for yourself right now was to control yourself. 

The urge to take it personally was beyond tempting- to make them suffer as they had done to you, to watch them break right in front of you… But there was a specific way to handle this situation, one you’ve envisioned more than enough, the perfect high route. 

Quickly looking back to see how Kirishima was fairing, you were met with the rock hero in the process of cuffing the other two offenders, allowing you to feel a rush of relief. You turned around and mentally centered yourself. The convict seemed to put together what you were about to do, so without hesitation, they began charging only a second too late.

Taking a breath, the perfect feeling to muddle their prideful feeling down surged through you as you carefully knotted their violent stings together.

It was the feeling you faced when all was said and done after, the outcome you faced after you had gone through confronting all of the trauma that was built up by this person. 

All you felt was emptiness. 

When it hit them, you saw it in their eyes as they stopped in their tracks. No smugness, no pride, no cowardness. Nothing to egg them on and yet nothing to make them feel terrible. Blank. 

Before confusion slithered its way to their consciousness, you took the opportunity and roundhoused them- your efficient ankle sweep knocking their head to the floor, deeming them unconscious.

Crouching to the floor next to their body, you made sure they were breathing before cuffing them and standing back up, turning around you double-check on the scene behind you.

The police furthest from you were tucking the Red Riot’s villains in their cars while the others jogging towards you kept their eyes on the limp body behind you, Kirishima in tow. He looked incredibly tired but couldn’t seem to keep the smile off his face. He felt proud.

A weak smile graces your lips as you try to take a step, only to see your vision blur.

Great. 

The last thing you saw was the panicked look in his eyes as his pace quickened to a run in attempts to catch you. You faded out to the sound of an urgent call of your actual name before your body hit the ground with a thud. 

The next few hours came in slow-paced blinks. 

The first time you opened your eyes post-fight, your body felt heavy… but you were moving. It didn’t take long to realize that you were being carried by the muscular arms that you wake up to every morning. Slowly peeling your eyes open, the sight of his signature spikey red hair reminded you that what had just happened. Your boyfriend, the one who was on the scene with you, had witnessed you overcome one of the people that truly had left damage on you. He wasn’t looking at you, but staring straight ahead; by the way, his fingers curled around your bicep and thighs, it had been tough for him to watch everything that had gone down. 

You tried to call out his name, but it sounded stifled, sounding more like a broken whisper than anything. After another try, he seemed to have heard you, his ears perking up even though all the commotion- or maybe it was just ironic timing. When his red eyes caught the beaming smile you attempted to comfort him with, he tried to mimic it, only you could make out the way his bottom lip quiver. Your eyelids became unbearably heavy and for the second time, unconsciousness took its hold over you.

Blink.

The next time your eyes peeled open, you were being inspected by the all-to-familiar medical team. The inside of the ambulance was much brighter than it was outside, fluorescent lighting causing you to squint. Unnamable hands were touching your head and pulse points. When they noticed your eyes open, they tried to keep you awake as long as possible, the first step was sitting you up on the gurney. The first person you made eye contact with was your designated nurse- the one with the most comforting presence, was that part of her quirk? 

With a kind smile and knowing eyes, she jerked her head in the direction of the person she knew was first to come to mind. Following the movement, your gaze landed on Kirishima, who was standing off to the side and chewing on his nail, arms crossed against his chest. 

Had he already got checked out? Was he okay? 

When he noticed you were staring, he mustered up a small smile and in return, you slightly lifted both your hands to do a loose wave in attempts to warm up his smile. It worked.

“Okay c’mon, you know how these checkups go- you can go be with your boyfriend once we know you’re okay.” your nurse teased, knowing full well that a serious approach wasn’t going to work with you being this drowsy. 

You merely nodded in response, head and eyelids still heavy.

 The rest of the examination went by speedily, you being awake making everything go ten times smoother. After everything was checked and you were clear to go home, the nurses moved to talk to Kirishima as you moved to the edge of the ambulance, waiting for them to finish. 

“I’m so lucky that you’re not only my hero but also a registered caregiver. Well actually… both are pretty super...” You mumbled, trailing off with a lazy smile, lids finally starting to accept the losing battle of staying open. 

“Nooo, you’re lucky that it’s the overuse of your quirk that’s keeping you out of the hospital and not fatal injuries. It’s not manly to push yourself too hard.” he quipped back in a light playful tone; He didn’t miss how hard you were fighting to stay awake. “Baby, can you make it to the car or do you want me to carry you?” 

It was moments like this where you appreciated how comfortable Kirishima made you feel in your relationship; feeling no shame when you revert to a clingy pile of mush. Reaching out, you let your eyes close as you mimic grabby hands to your enormous boyfriend. 

You hear him sigh as he kneels in front of you, opening your eyes in time to catch his broad back muscles shifting, “c’mon love, you need to help me with this bit.”

You clumsily climb on his back and loosely wrap your arms around his neck, standing up with ease. He quickly adjusts you against him to get a better hold on your thighs. Once he begins walking, you let yourself subside back into unconsciousness.

Blink.

You were jolted awake when you felt yourself falling, only for your behind to hit a familiar cushiony surface. Oh right, the car. Before you could fade out once again, you heard Kirishima say something about going to grab the paperwork so the both of you can file your reports later when you wake up. The last thought you were able to think was something along the lines of how incredibly lucky you were to have someone love you so deeply.

Blink.

Waking up to the view of the city lights twinkling below your balcony and the energy of a healthy 8 hours of sleep, you stretch the rest of the drowsiness out of your body till you feel ready to accept the hefty amount of paperwork that’s waiting for you in the other room. 

The only light that illuminated your bedroom was the reflection of the living room lights on the hallway floors. Before getting up, you spared a glance at your nightstand, seeing a glass of water with a note underneath, as predicted; this happened more often than not after a battle. You reach out and take the glass in hand and take a steady sip before letting in more and more water, then reading the messy little note:

 in the livingroom <3 

You smiled at the little doodle he drew- two characters that seem a lot like the two of you, kissing, with a sparkly heart over their heads.

The need to recreate this drawing was growing at an incredible speed.

With newfound determination, you push yourself up from the bed and shuffle to the living room, squinting when the light becomes a little too harsh against your eyes.

Eyes fully closed when you get to the center of the living room, purposely facing the wrong way and trying to suppress a giggle, you try to use the most monotone voice you could muster.

“Kiri - where are you I can’t see.” 

“Your eyes are closed- babe, open your eyes.” 

“No it’s too bright but I saw this cute drawing on the nightstand done by this really talented artist and I must recreate it please recreate it with me.”

You heard a bit of shuffling before his voice came close to your left side.

“Was it a pretty manly drawing?” 

“I would like to think so.”

He was much closer at this point, shifted to somewhere close in front of you right before warm lips were on yours; as quick as the peck came, it was gone in a flash followed by the sound of him plopping down on the couch.

“Wait Eijirou-” you start to pout as you turn in the direction where the couch is, eyes now fully open and set on Kirishima until the shock of pain shot through your nerve endings. 

“Ah, shit! Fuck!…” you wince, lifting your leg to hug your newly stubbed toe.

Kirishima is back by your side in an instant, really trying to suppress his laugh but doing a terrible job.

“You’re such a jerk for laughing,” you pout, giving your best attempt of a proper shove… and he didn’t even budge. 

There was a moment of complete silence then the booming of your boyfriend’s boisterous laughs bouncing off the walls. Rolling your eyes, you limped over to the spot on the couch where he was previously sitting, and as the cushion beside you dips, you sigh. 

The sight in front of you was a disheveled mess. Scribbled on papers were thrown about- most were filled out but there were a few that were blank, pens and highlighters could be spotted under and over random reports.

“I did most of the reports… but I didn’t know if you wanted to fill out yours… because of who you were fighting.” he slowly stated, as if he were walking on eggshells. You could tell that he was holding back from hitting the main issue. 

Was this something you were ready to unbiasedly talk about? Kirishima knew most of the details, but he also realized that you probably wanted to talk about it more now that you’ve not only seen them after all this time but had to fight them. 

With another sigh, you let your head fall into your palms- your elbows digging into your thighs- and you roughly rub your eyes before coming up for a new breath of air. 

“My heart was pounding…” you started, attempting to prepare for the unwanted wave of grief, but as you trailed off, oddly enough, it never came. 

When reflecting on the fight, you remembered the range of emotions you felt, but now… you just felt… empty- which was ironic. No sadness, longing, anxiety… if anything, with your caring redhead staring at you with the roundest eyes, you felt at ease. 

“But honestly? I don’t really feel much right now. Like I can say that when looking back, I think I handled myself in the best way possible- they don’t deserve to have that satisfaction of creating a rise out of me, and quite frankly… I’m tired, Ei. I’m so tired of letting them have that hold on me. I don’t deserve that kind of pain. As much as I am a hero, I need to think about myself as a person and there’s only so much I can endure. My mental and emotional health comes first.” 

After saying all of that, there was a slight hint of relief that flooded your system; you already began to feel lighter.

“I’m so proud of you. I know that must have been really hard to face but you did it, and you were so good about it,” he whispered as he reached out for your thigh. 

Accepting his comfort, you sucked in another breath and smiled up at him. He held and returned your smile for a couple of seconds before slightly leaning in, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. 

“Would it be alright if I.. kiss you?” it was such a heart-warming gesture, how he was making sure you weren’t pushing yourself. 

“More than alright,” you whisper, barely getting out the last word because of how quickly the gap between you two closed. The kiss was comfort in the rawest form; his pace was slow, his large hand cupping your jaw as his tongue invaded your mouth. You were following his pace, your eyes coming to a close, melting into a relaxed state for what seemed like the first time today. 

Keeping the kiss light, he pulled away shortly, but not before placing a lingering peck on your lips, then one on your forehead and whispering, “I made you a snack. You’re probably hungry right now so I prepared you a little something filling. And while you eat, I’m gonna run a bath with some Epsom salt and lavender oil, does that sound good?” 

Overwhelming gratitude washed over you. Words couldn’t possibly measure even the bare minimum of the love you have for Kirishima Eijirou, and yet you managed to string a soft, “You are the most wonderful person in the world, and I… Eijirou I love you so much.” 

His eyes became a little teary as he looked down at you, a wobbly smile in place before whispering a returning “I love you,” before heading into the bathroom to run the water in your massive tub. 

As the thundering sound of the water filling the tub echo through your apartment, you get up and rummage the fridge to find a plate of adorably cut red apples with a glob of peanut butter off to the side. 

“Baby do you want tea?” You call out just loud enough, “I’m gonna brew that green tea with the toasted rice!” 

He came into the kitchen looking big and confused, “what did you say, baby?”

“Green tea?”

“Oh yes, please,” he said, leaning in and planting a kiss to your temple before turning back to the bathroom. 

“Kiri? Can you put on the house shows on the tv? I forgot what channel they were on.”

You didn’t need to turn around to hear tv turn on; a shout of thanks was called out before you took a bite of your snack.

It felt all very domestic, something you never thought could happen to you. Your childhood was a montage of quirk abuse, being emotionally used, following the same types of toxic people, and never learning your lesson. It all flipped somewhere in your twenties- you began to realize the pattern after being shown the kindness the world could offer. No longer world you put up with bullshit like that. You knew better now and Eijirou always reminded you of that. 

You were halfway through one of your favorite flipping shows when Kirishima came in shirtless, letting you know the bath was ready, “Okay my love, it’s ready. Take your time, I‘ll be in the tub.”

You stripped on your way to the bathroom, leaving all your clothes on the bench in the bedroom before padding into the warm-tiled bathroom.

The view you stepped in on was delicious; your huge boyfriend taking up most of the tub, his head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed.

“Gee red, you’re so sexy.” you aimed to tease, but your words came out a bit strained. He chuckles before turning to face you and groaning your name, “hurry up and come in here.”

And it’s then when you’re submerged in all the heat and laying against your boyfriend’s warmth, do you remember that life is what you make it to be. Never accept anything less than the love and care you deserve.

Blink.

[lazysublimeengineer]

you bring color to my monochrome world

Summary: Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

Characters:Takemichi H., Hinata T., Manjirou S.

“I wish you a kinder sea.”

— Emily Dickinson

i. I will protect you.

Takemichi was drowning.

He was drowning in the sea of doubt and hopelessness. What was he thinking? Going back to the future to undo every mistake that he did there and save Hina? He couldn’t even save himself from Kiyomasa’s punches and roundhouse kicks. He clenched his fists as he stared at the blinking street lights around the city that evening, ignoring the stares from the other people because of his mottled face and bruised body.

However, was it the right thing to do? To run away again? To struggle in vain and restart his stale life all over again?

He could feel his eyes started to water as he remembered Hina’s forthright yet breathtaking smile when she uttered those words at him in the midst of his own torment and wretchedness: I will protect you.

Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

And he swore to himself that he won’t fail her this time around.

He would save her.

Even it could him his own sanity and life in the long run.

ii. The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!

The first time that Mikey saw Takemichi was when he was in the middle of an underground fight with Kiyomasa which was to be honest looked like a one-sided battle since the poor guy was being treated like a punching bag by his opponent.

He pursed his lips. Underground fights were stupid and he didn’t want to have the name of the Toman to be tainted by a useless slugfest like this. He was about to make his way there when he stopped midway upon hearing the young man’s speeches that was brimming with firmness and determination.

“The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!”

But the one that caught his full attention was his deep blue eyes shining with tenacity and valor. There were only few people around the world that possessed that kind of reckless yet admirable conviction.

He hadn’t seen that kind of eyes and fighting spirit since his late older brother.

That day he had made up his mind. He needed to have a buddy like Takemichi into his life.

He signaled for Draken to make their presence known when Kiyomasa was getting berserk and demanding for a bat.

The crowd went in complete, deathly silence as they presented themselves and was already beating up Kiyomasa after he succinctly made his existence well known in front of Takemichi.

“Takemitchy. See ya later.” He shot him a carefree grin before he turned away and left the place completely. The young man’s befuddled yet ingenuous expression was forever etched into his memory.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

iii. I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!

Hinata’s hand was trembling.

Nevertheless, she wouldn’t give these people the satisfaction of seeing the fear creeping up slowly within her. She knew that Takemichi was too trustful and forthright to a fault even though it’s also one of the reasons why she had fallen in love with him.

She just can’t stand there and watched the two delinquents domineered him into their own whims and wants whenever they wanted to. She promised Takemichi that she will protect him after all and she always held and fulfill her own promises.

However, she made a mistake of thinking naively that they can get away unscathed after she pulled out a brave yet foolish stunt of slapping the blond right in front of the class. She tried not to shake as she felt a hand gripped her wrist and heard the threat of the tall male with braided locks that made her swallow thickly.

“Hey. Do you want me to kill you, bitch?”

She heard more words and threats that came out of his mouth before she decided to respond and gave him a piece of her mind. Takemichi was always bruised, crestfallen and lost every time she saw him dropping by her flat. She had enough of these people dictating and treating him like their own slaves. Even if this will put her in a risky situation, she will defend and protect the man she loves.

She was now ready for the consequences of her actions but she was taken aback when Takemichi’s hand gripped the tall male’s shoulder firmly and demanded him to let her go. No. No. No. No. She didn’t want Takemichi to suffer and take the brunt of her actions. If she had to intervene again to save him, then she will have to do it even if it could cost this her own life.

She was about to speak again when Takemichi’s next words made her eyes widened briefly and rooted her to the spot.

“I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!”

It was stated with raw conviction and firm temerity that she had to double take and stared up at him with wide eyes that was brimming with amazement and concern for his well-being now that he challenged the two delinquents in front of them.

‘Takemichi-kun…’ Hinata restrained a gasp as she observed Takemichi in silence. It was like seeing another facet of him that was different from what she used to see. But she liked his tenacity and firmness. He may be a crybaby and wore his heart on his sleeve but she knew that his heart was in the right place.

After a troublesome misunderstanding later and apologies pouring from her lips, she waved goodbye to Takemichi and let him hang out with his newfound friends.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

And she could never get tired of loving him.

iv. That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.

Mikey stared at the horizon in front of them with a serene smile on his face.

Takemichi observed him from a few distances away, looking at the quiescent male who was sitting on the grass. Draken was also standing a few meters away from them, sporting an unflappable expression on his face.

From what he observed so far, Mikey was a delinquent but he was not a bad guy. He was simply a person who possessed some radical beliefs on his own and translated it into his actions that may be questionable to other people due to his carefree yet strong personality and straightforward manner of speaking.

He had also noted some odd yet interesting behavior from the gang leader himself. Even though he’s mostly laid back and insouciant he had a habit of flipping a switch to his moods seamlessly, revealing a hidden cold anger and ruthless nature from within as he had witnessed on how he just beat up Kiyomasa like it was nothing.

There was a saying that the eyes were the mirror to the soul.

But when he looked at Mikey’s onyx eyes it was a bottomless pit of nothingness. Devoid of any emotion and was a vacuum of an empty black hole. He remembered how he stared down at Kiyomasa like he was nothing more than a pathetic insect under his palm that’s waiting to be crush. And how Mikey’s eyes almost suck the life out of him earlier in that tense situation with Hina, almost resigning himself for the inevitable punch that would come from his hands only to be tricked and playfully derided by him that he’s a dummy and he doesn’t hit girls.

Hence, he had reached a conclusion that Mikey was hard to understand and read his intentions sometimes.

However, one thing was for sure: Mikey was not a bad person and he’d be willing to help and save him alongside with Hina to prevent them from meeting their miserable future and demise.

He just had to convince Naoto to get to the bottom of the problem and find out the reason why Mikey turned out the way he was in the future.

“That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.”

The gang leader didn’t need to convince him twice when he asked him to join his gang after he shared his goal and vision to him. Just looking at his charismatic smile and earnestness, Takemichi knew that he was drawn in. Hook. Line. And sinker.

v. You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.

He stood up but he was still looking at the horizon when he finally revealed his vision and intentions to him, uttering his name correctly for the first time.

“You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.”

Mikey couldn’t picture out his exact reaction to his words but he could already surmised the genuine astonishment and wonder that was written on his clear blue eyes. Then the seriousness and determination that would crossed his face afterwards.

That’s the kind of guy Takemichi was. Honest, sincere, determined yet reckless sometimes when it came to defending his beliefs and the people that he mostly cares about. It’s easy to read him. Just dropped a verbal bomb in front of him and he’ll be getting a multitude of interesting expressions from his face.

…and there were times that he isn’t.

He had seen how Takemichi would be like an open book but with hidden pages that was not visible to the naked eye. Takemichi wasn’t a liar yet he was a secretive person as well. He cannot forget his initial reaction when he asked him casually if he’s really a middle schooler in that school. It was an unguarded moment for the young lad and he had a look that screamed of panic and anxiousness.

Interesting.

Even though Takemichi was an emotionally expressive person and vocal about what he believed was right and wrong, he still couldn’t decipher what his real purpose was. All he knew as of the moment was, he was too protective of his girlfriend Hinata who gave him an amazing slap earlier.

He was willing to defend and fight for her even against to the people like them.

What a reckless guy. But he guessed that was a part of Takemichi’s own charm. He couldn’t help but to be intrigue by this person who possessed those electrifying sky-blue irises and a sheer will determination.

‘Hinata huh? What a lucky gal…’ Mikey thought as he gazed at Takemichi’s profile.

For now, he could only basked in the vibrancy and vivid hues of Takemichi’s presence, coloring his monochromatic world with the promises of hope for the future.

(A/N: I don’t own Tokyo Revengers and any of the characters from this franchise. Inspired by the scenes that shows the relationship and interactions of Takemichi with Hinata and Mikey. I believed in Takemikeyhina supremacy but I lived for some drizzle of angst and pining hence the end results of this one shot. Apologies in advance for some grammatical errors and if some of them are OOC as English is not my native language and I’ve tried my best to keep them in character. Reviews are amusing hence I look forward to hear them from you).

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (part 9.5): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: it’s over. the ruse is up.

wc: 2.1k

tw: none

masterlist

“Have you ever considered just not going to meet the Prince and remaining in your rooms?” Kaori wonders as you sharpen a blade with a rock. “I mean, I’m sure he wouldn't bother you if you assumed the appearance of an invalid. How about getting out of town for a week?” 

She’s tried everything to get you to reconsider your stance on killing Prince Naoya. Any theory, any loophole, any cop-out; Kaori’s said it. But you have no choice. Geto has to be avenged, and the only way you can manage vengeance is killing the man who sent your lover to his death. 

“Listen, we have only a couple of days left. We can use poison, strangulation, accidental drowning, and straight-up murder - which I think is the messier of the bunch.” Toji ticks off methods as he watches you work away at the blade with determination. “I vote we poison his food, and if that doesn’t work, smothering can go a long way.” Megumi peers into the little pond in front of him as his father discusses treason, entirely uninterested in anything but finding another frog to play with. You envy the child and wish that you could take his place, forgetting everything else except the current pursuit of a frog. But your frog is much more elusive, slippery, and well-guarded.

“We have to drug the guards first,” you note, and Toji grunts affirmatively, biting his lip as he stares past you, deep in thought. You look at the scar on his mouth and squint, wondering if you’re just now noticing the pink-ish raised mark or if you’d seen it before, but never noted the way it looks against his tanned skin in the sunlight. You look away before anyone can accuse you of staring, but make a note to ask about the injury later. 

“How can you be assured that none of this will affect your parents?” Kaori wonders, and you look at her with a pensive stare. 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t affect them. They know nothing of the plot and I--”

“If you’re dead, you can’t defend them,” she reminds you, and for a moment, you reconsider the plan altogether. 

“Toji, do you think you could get my parents out of here safely?” 

“I can’t guarantee shit,” he replies, resting his chin on his palm as his green eyes focus in on you again. “But I can sure as hell try.” He adds when you give him a defeated look. You respond to his addition with a half-smile, and he rolls his eyes at the sight, huffing out a short breath. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Try and hit me,” Toji encourages you, and you reach a hand out to slap him across the face. But you miss entirely and stumble forward, almost face-planting into the ground. “You can’t put all of your force in your upper body like that.” He chastises, stepping in front of you again. 

“Give me a rake and we’ll see about that,” you counter, earning you a loud laugh. Toji takes his stance again, hands prepared for a fight. 

“Come on, little girl, put up a serious fight. You don’t need a rake.” You inhale deeply, centering yourself with one foot placed behind you at an angle and one foot in front, planted firmly into the dirt. “Hit me.” 

The roundhouse kick narrowly misses Toji’s tan face, and his eyes widen as your heel barely scrapes his nose. 

“I said hit me, not kill me!” The bodyguard gripes, and you laugh at his overly-surprised expression and step back, holding your stomach as you bend over in a fit of giggles. When you stop and straighten back up, you catch Toji staring at you in wonder. 

“What?” 

“Your laugh… I’ve never heard you laugh like that before.” At the mention of your enjoyment, you hum thoughtfully, realizing, yes - you hadn’t laughed so heartily in a long time. But in his moment of unguardedness, you shoot your hand out - the fist making contact with his gut immediately. He grunts, holding his abs and wincing a little. “You… fucking... bi--” Before he can finish his sentence and grab you, you take off for the hill behind the house, laughing as you run with all of your might.

But Toji catches up to you easily, grabbing your elbow and making you tumble to the grass, then roll back down the hill in his arms. As you roll - and scream - grass and dirt and wildflowers are kicked up and tossed into your hair and clothes, dirtying your face as well. When you stop though, you’re on top of Toji, and his arms are crushing you against his chest protectively. 

“You can let go now,” you groan, and he opens his emerald eyes, staring right into yours with an intensity you’ve only seen on one other person’s face. “Toji…” you whisper, and his face changes again, now softer and much more… relaxed, if that was even possible. He blinks, and you pause, recognizing the meaning behind his looks. “Fushiguro, I--” He lets you go immediately, clearing his throat and standing. 

“We should get back before dinner. I’m fucking starving.” He saunters off with his hands in his pockets, not even offering to help you up off of the ground.  

_______________________________________________________________________

The moon hovers precariously in the night sky, illuminating the garden directly below it and bathing you in moonlight. You’re only a few hours away from meeting Prince Naoya, and it’s the thought of seeing him face-to-face that keeps you up tonight. What would he look like? Would he know who you are? Would he ask you any questions about Geto? 

Your eyes rest on the reflection of the moon in the fountain, Toji’s old dagger resting in your lap. 

“It ain’t much,” he mumbled when he handed it to you. “But if something happens, whether it’s with the food or the smothering... You’ve got this dagger.” Then he showed you how to murder someone quickly by using a pillow and your dagger, aiming precisely for the open space between his ribcage. “Stab once, pull it out, and run like hell if you want.” 

You inhale deeply, filling your lungs with fresh air. 

“Cold out here,” Toji mumbles, rubbing his arms as he walks out of the house barefoot. “Can’t sleep, y/n?” 

“No,” you admit, then jerk your chin at him. “You?” 

“I don’t get much rest these days,” he replies, sitting beside you at the fountain. “Worried about tomorrow?” You look over at the green-eyed man and blink, your blank expression telling all. “Well, I’m not. You’re going to be fine.” 

“And what will you do when you have to watch me be executed?” you tease, but Toji’s eyes fall to the fountain, eyeing the moon’s reflection. 

“It’ll be sad. But I understand why you have to do what you’re doing.” 

“Toji Fushiguro? Sad?” You laugh, but he gives you a withering look instead of laughing along with you. 

“Listen, I’ve made a lot of off-color remarks, but I meant what I said. You’re a great person, and I would hate to see your life go to waste over some petty vendetta.” His mumbling catches you off guard, but you say nothing in response, opting to look down at the dagger instead. “But, you’re determined to pursue your lover into the afterlife; I get it. You must really be in love with him.”

“I am,” you reply, still not looking at Toji.

“Well, since you’re going to die tomorrow, I might as well be transparent with you,” Toji whispers. “You know, looking after you was a pain in the ass at first.” You frown at him, wondering what kind of comment that is, but he continues anyways. “But you grew on me. Shit, watching you for these months has become enjoyable, more exciting than the idiocy I used to do before. Y/n… I’m--” Toji swallows hard, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “I’m... going to miss you.” Toji leans in slowly, placing a rough hand on your right cheek before kissing the other cheek with a tenderness you always knew he held deep inside. Once he pulls away, he stands, raking his hands through his short hair and sighing before walking back into the house. But you’re left outside, wondering what could’ve been if you weren’t so hell-bent on bringing your dead lover justice. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The sounds of horses, bells, cheering, chants, cacophony… too much noise.

You can hear it all from your position in the kitchen. The village is louder than it’s ever been before, and all the noise provides the perfect background noise to you and your mother’s preparing food for the six of you already living in the house and about thirteen guests- the seven guards, the four servants, a royal advisor, and finally, Prince Naoya. The resulting feast will outshine any feast your mother has cooked before, and you know that the village will speak of the honor bestowed upon your house and the cooking from it for at least a day. 

The next day, they will be lamenting the loss of the eldest son of the Imperial Court, and rejoicing upon your execution. Just like they celebrated Geto’s death. 

Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy, Su, you pray as you peel a leek with precision. Only a few more hours and Naoya would be within your reach. 

First, you’d drug him with a powder Toji had acquired in exchange for… something unmentionable that he wouldn’t divulge. Second, you would help the prince off to his bed as the drug took hold of him and tuck him in. Then, you’d smother him to death. If that didn’t work - “and there’s a chance that it might not”, Toji warned - you would stab him in the heart. Death would reach the Prince’s soul before the morning light. And you would be ready to die the next day, all to meet Geto in whatever world he had passed on to.

An icy hand grips your heart as the hours pass.

The thought of rejoining your lover - feeling his arms around you, touching his hair, looking into his black eyes - is more than enough for you to pretend everything is alright. All you’re doing is making the most of the last few hours you have with your family, Kaori, Toji, and Megumi. The small child is parading about in his newest outfit, displaying his hakama and haori for all to see and coo over. Toji wears a matching outfit, the clouds and animals drifting about his black haori reminding you of a zoo display and of the days you wish you could have. 

You’re wearing your best kimono - the peach one Kaori dressed you in the day you left the camp; Suguru’s mother’s kimono. It’s all too beautiful, really. Everyone is dressed up like royalty, but you’re the only one who came dangerously close to that life and escaped by the grace of a certain General who had your heart. Now, you would murder royalty and die as much of an outcast that Suguru was. 

After you wash your hands in the fountain, you place the dagger inside your kimono and look at yourself in the mirror for the last time. Color had returned to your cheeks over the past few days, and a certain look in your eye had become commonplace. You had something to live for, and these days would remain in your memory as the best days you’ve had since Geto died. 

“They’re coming up the path,” Kaori hisses as she walks past you, ushering Megumi and Toji to the door behind your mother and father. “Come on.” You follow them obediently, standing behind your father and mother as the procession winds its way down the road. While soldiers, musicians, villagers, everyone is parading in front of the carriage carrying the murderer of your lover, you look to the ground and clench your fists. Your resolve steels itself in your spine as you hear the procession get even closer, the clanging making your jaw tighten and your knees tremble. Too much noise, too much noise, too much noise for a man who slaughtered innocents.

The music dies down when the carriage comes to a halt, but the sound of children excitedly squealing nearby. You keep your eyes downcast, not daring to look the spiteful man in the face or attract attention to yourself. The echo of children’s excited chatter stabs you in the heart even deeper - how could children be excited by this killer? - and you try to block out the memories of Itadori, Junpei, and Nobara, but to no avail. 

You’re trying so hard that tears are streaming down your face, and mucus gathers in your nose as you begin to cry quietly. Megumi reaches up to grab your hand tenderly, holding it in his five little fingers as you hear the door to the carriage swing open slowly. You avoid looking, and sniff so hard you almost miss the first words out of a certain blue-eyed bastard’s mouth: 

“Whoa; watch your step, Yuji! You don’t want to fall in front of Lady y/n, do you?”

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover​ @jotazinha​ @just4readingfics​ @mxhi​ @sammytamaki​ @brownskinnedgirll​ @keelyshayee​ @leanne-tamashi​ @vabybizzle​ @amaris9​ @fuegy-fuegy​ @ambiguous-something​ 

[beskarberry]

Garden of Ishtar

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 9

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

"The Universe has a strange way of granting wishes"

<-Previous Next->

Rating: holy shit Explicit

Word count: 15.8k

Content warnings: SEX POLLEN + BREEDING KINK + PREGNANCY KINK with an extra kinky twist! (Dubcon/use of mind altering substances by non-sentient creature/ovipos) Side kinks: dom/alpha, praise, begging, denial, overstim, bonus somnophila. Obvious favorites of p in v, finger blasting, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms and then some. Big gooey heaps of fluff to make up for all the filth. I tried.

A/N: Weird shit happens in space, and this chapter is no exception. This is the most kinks I've crammed into one chapter, almost zero story progression whatsoever, it's just smutty smut the whole way though. Good luck and may the force be with you because you're gonna need it.

“Well, which one do you want?”

“You pick.”

“Fuck no, I picked the last one, you can pick the next.”

It was a bright, lovely, sunshiny day on the forest moon of Endor, the fine weather a stark contrast from how it had been when you had landed. You had opened the access ramps on the Crest to get some fresh air circulating while you made preparations to head towards your next target, but you had to pick a target first.

On a supply crate that you had pushed into the middle of the cabin like a dining room table sat three little pucks, their bounties still as mysterious as they had been when you had wantonly pulled them off of Karga’s countertop. As far as you were concerned it was Din’s turn to pick, and though death was just an occupational hazard in your line of work, there had been too many brushes with the reaper during your last hunt for you to be comfortable picking again.

Leaning against the wide open doorframe you took a deep breath of the fresh, rain-scrubbed air, letting it fill your lungs and clear your head. It was a little humid, though it might have been the nicest day you had seen in a long time. Outside on the dampish grass the foundling was chasing some kind of pretty insect, hopping about trying to catch the elusive critter. It was good for him to get a chance to stretch his legs, no matter how short they were, and you giggled at his antics when he tripped and fell. He squealed and rolled through the grass before he was bounding after another fluttering creature. Without the violent storms the mini-moon was peaceful, serene almost, and in another lifetime maybe you would have settled down here; though you couldn’t imagine being anything besides a hunter. I wonder if that will ever change.

“Really, cyare, you pick.” Sitting across from you, Din was cleaning the last bit of mud from his armor, the thick muck having long dried into a chunky, flaky mess. Everything but the plate he had in his hands now shimmered like spilled mercury over his chest and shoulders, catching the dappled sunbeams that filtered in through the open doors. Your argument over who got to pick the next puck had ground to a stand still, and you were getting frustrated, but not frustrated enough that you would yield.

“It’s not my turn, it’s your turn.” He just shook his head, diligently scrubbing the dirt from the details of the mudhorn on his pauldron without realizing the irony of his efforts. He set the cleaned metal to his shoulder, the clack of its fasteners echoing faintly in the open hold. The Mandalorian sat up straight, leaning his helmeted head against the hull wall and patting his knees, expectantly waiting for you to make your choice. Something about his armored appearance gave you a stupid idea, and you sauntered up to him with a cocky grin. “I’ll fight’cha for it.”

“You’ll what?” The black gloss of his visor tilted sharply, as though you had just grown a second head.

“Fight me! Loser has to pick the puck.” You kicked the tips of his boots and brought your fists up, playfully making soft, slow jabs towards him. He huffed, like he wasn’t used to you having bright ideas by now.

“I’m not going to fight you, cyar’ika, just pick a damn puck already.”

“Them's fightin’ words.” Your knuckles went pap pap pap in quick succession against the hexagonal indent on his chest. “What’re’ya afraid you’re gonna lose?”

He lazily swatted at you, barely even trying to block your attack. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ha! As if!” You whipped your head forward, sending the beskar you wore on your crown sliding down over your eyes, letting the quicksilver flash of its curved surfaces tell him you meant business. Your jabs got a little meaner, though if you hit him too much harder his own beskar would probably break your fingers. Between his metal plates were a few soft spots, and you honed in on them with sneaky digits. Din jerked visibly when you got the one right under his chest piece, and a swift arm came up and caught your next offence. “Ohoho, so you are awake, I was beginning to think you had fallen asleep on me.”

“I’m not going to hit you.” His words came through his modulator like gravel, irritated that you would even think he would lay a hand on you. Shrugging, you knocked him right in the forehead with the heel of your palm, making his helmet clonk against the durasteel. The next jab you threw was caught and thrown back to you, him tossing your fist away. You went for him again, but when he grabbed both your fists you were pushed back with the force of him rising from his seat. He marched you backwards and shoved you away, then brought his vambraces up in a defensive block, ready for the next attack.

You took one last glance at the foundling, who was sitting sweetly in the grassy meadow, absently trying to catch motes of pollen that were floating by, before launching into your assault. Your fists stung at him with reckless abandon, not enough to actually hurt either of you, though he probably wouldn’t have felt it anyway under his pile of armor. Mando blocked everything you hurled at him, making good on his promise not to hit you, but that was taking all the fun out of it. “Come on, rust bucket, stand up for yourself!” He took everything you gave, deflecting every thrown fist and slowly inching his way closer to you until you were taking steps back to open up your jabs.

“You really want me to fight you? Fine.” He barked, whacking your next punch away. You jumped back to dodge a rapid slew of hook shots, cackling like a lunatic that you had gotten your wish granted.

“Yes! Come on, big boy, fight me! Let’s go! I’m gonna kick your- ass!” Din lunged at you, tackling you like a linebacker and throwing you against the wall. Cornered, you snapped your head forward and rang his bell, disorienting him enough that you could drop out of his grasp and dash out between his legs. He turned on you in an instant, and you made ‘come at me bro’ hands at him before he was on you again. He swiped with a left hook, chuffing you lightly on the shoulder while you socked him back; though you weren’t nearly as gentle, stinging your knuckles on his unyielding iron.

A bandoliered boot went for your shins, and you stomped back at it, kicking sideways at the plates of his thighs. You hopped, switched legs, and spun a roundhouse straight into the side of his gut. On anyone else it would have been a crippling blow, but your Mandalorian grabbed your lifted ankle and hauled you to him, using your own weight against you to palm your sternum and flip you on your back. The wind was knocked from your lungs when you hit the floor, but not enough that you didn’t get a knee up as he tried to pin you under him, and you kicked up into his gut and flipped him over your head; the sound of his armor hitting the ground ringing loud and ugly.

You kicked up and tossed yourself backwards in the same spring, putting you over top of his breastplate. Throwing your knees back you locked his arms under your ankles, straddling his chest so you could hold his helmet down. “That all you got?”

“You wish!” Din squirmed and kneed you in the ass, tossing you off of him. You rolled away and scrambled to your feet, narrowly avoiding another flying tackle. The cabin of the Crest wasn’t giving you much space to work with, and you hauled ass down down the ramp before he could catch you again. “Oh now you want me to chase you, ner riduur?” He hollered, swinging his arms wide in a challenging stance.

You turned and wiggled your ass at him, slapping yourself tauntingly before the sound of armored thunder had you running for cover. You ran past the foundling on the ground, braking quickly next to him to pat his head before his father was upon you, and you missed being snatched by the skin of your teeth.

Hopping back a few paces you put up your dukes, and this time the beskar took the bait. The Mandalorian threw punches left and right, more forceful than he had started with but not enough to actually hurt. You took a few blows to your forearms and shoulders before lashing out with a wild throw. The sound of fists on metal echoed against the tree trunks that surrounded the sunny meadow while you took on the mighty warrior, though armor was kicking your ass for him, and you nearly dashed yourself to pieces on the plate of his chest.

“Had enough yet?”

You roared in response and threw your whole body at him, making quick jabs at the meat of his sides where his armor was thinnest. He keeled sideways, dropped himself into a crouch, and lunged, tackling you to the ground. Damn it! Time to fight dirty! You pulled an arm free of his grasp and grabbed his cloak, throwing it over his helmet and wrapping it up tight, temporarily blinding him. He sat up to try and unravel the fabric from his face, and in that split second you grabbed the backs of his knees and yanked, flopping him back down onto his back. The pinner had become the pin-ee, and you squashed yourself up between his legs and thrust into his groin, making him keen in surprise.

“You’re mine, bantha-butt!” Tangled in the cloak he squirmed under you until he was free of your trap, giving you a confused head tilt at your position. You hooked your arms under his knees and ground yourself up against his ass, making him grunt underneath you before he wrapped his legs around your middle and rolled, throwing you down onto the ground. Both of you grappled for dominance, rolling and tossing each other through the soft, dampish grass until you were on top of him again, straddling his waist.

“That’s better.” He hummed, grabbing your wrists and pulling you down to him where he could wrap his arms around your writhing form. “You’re mine, you little womp rat.”

“Nuh uh! You’re under me, that means I win, chumbucket.” You threw your weight around, trying to coax one more good roll out of the two of you, but he had you in his clutches. A dark, lecherous laugh reverberated in your ear, and you felt him rut up against your crotch to demand your complacency. Between your legs the faintest outline of his shaft slotted against you, fitting so well against the cradle of your body that it really might have been made just for you; but you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him harder into the grass. “Not in front of the foundling, you big horndog.”

“Says the one riding me.” A soft, leather-clad hand left your captured shoulders to slide your mask up and brush the grass from your hair, gently tucking a stray lock behind your ear; and you pressed your face into his palm as it passed back down. The rumble in his chest went right through your legs up your spine until your cheeks blushed under his thumbs. “Mesh’la…”

Something twitched under you, and as much as you would like to indulge him, sass came to you more naturally. “Is this why you didn’t wanna fight me?” You rolled your hips over his, giving him a tantalizing tease. “Gets you all fired up?”

His helmet rolled, trying to avoid your skull-boring gaze. “Maybe…”

“Well maybe when we get into hyperspace we can do something about that, but not until that one has gone to bed.”

Ahead of you the foundling was laying back in the grass, watching his adopted parents with big googly eyes. Din followed your gaze, and the two of you made stupid little waves at your child. Beans waved back and stood up, teetering over to the pair of you on his little stubby legs. You laid against the breadth of your mate’s chest and reached for the goofy green baby, who happily ran into your arms.

“Heya, Goob! What’cha up to, huh? Catchin’ bugs?” You sat up and leaned back, ignoring the heavy hands that laid on your thighs while you chatted with the foundling. The baby gibbered and told you all about his fun in the sun, but under you the slow gyration of hips was starting to get distracting. “Beans, tell your dad to stop being naughty.”

“Me? You started this.”

“Bah! I don’t start things, I only finish them.” Under you your beskar burdened buddy sighed and let his head fall back into the grass, shaking it back and forth at your foolishness. You hefted the foundling up in the air, making him squeal in delight, and the sweet sounds of his laughter gave you a better idea. “You know what? I bet he would like to pick a puck!”

“Thank the fucking stars, does that mean we can get going?”

“Yeah yeah fussbucket come on. You’re so damn impatient!” You made one last amorous swirl of your hips before leaping up from your man, running with the baby high above your head as you dashed circles around the ship. It was good for both of you to spend time together that wasn’t just on the trail, and you treasured the few moments of comfort you got to have as a pack between hunts. You ran a few more laps before flying up the ramp to where Mando had already beaten you there, and you plopped the baby down on the makeshift table where the pucks had miraculously survived your wrassling. “Ok buddy boy, can you pick a puckie for me?”

The baby tossed his arms in the air and squeaked like he would rather go for another round of flight simulator, but you plopped down on the ground in front of him and pointed at the pucks again. He tilted his head, making his airplane ears flop akimbo. The foundling looked down at the pucks, back up to you, and then -slapped- the one in the middle as hard as he could. The pucks projector fired up and glowed ghostly blue in front of the child’s wondrous eyes, and he tried to grab at the thing showing in its center.

The holo must be malfunctioning, maybe the baby hit it too hard, but the picture wasn’t of a face, or even a person for that matter; it was something round, egg shaped almost. Beside you, your Mandalorian was making the same confused head tilts that you were, and he tapped a leather finger to the puck’s button, turning it off and on again, but the same image remained. “That can’t be right, have you ever seen one like this?”

You shook your head, puzzled by the purplish object that floated before you. Maybe it was some kind of stone or seed, or even an egg like its shape suggested. The pucknotes had a counter next to the ovoid, indicating that more credits would be rewarded for the quantity of items procured. Besides a description of the item and the indicator, the puck notes had one last useful tidbit of information, the last known location:

Hoth.

“Wait, Hoth? There’s nothing on Hoth! You sure this thing’s not fucked up?” Din shrugged, making his plates clack before he got up and started getting the ship around, closing ramps and scooting crates back into place. “Shit balls of hell, alright! Fucking Hoth it is.” You’d been to Hoth maybe all of two times chasing down the stupidest, most idiotic bounties, and not once had you seen anything of value there. “Of course it has to be somewhere cold, we already did cold. One of those fucking pucks better go to a goddamn beach or something or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“You sure you haven’t already? I mean,” Din stopped rearranging the furniture to swagger up to you, catching your hand in his own. “You did try to fight with a Mandalorian.”

“Bah! And I’d do it again, too, you’re not that intimidating.” Playfully you tried to take your hand back, but he was a professional bounty hunter, and he didn’t let his captures get away so easily. Thick, leatherbound fingers laced themselves between your own, and your other arm was taken hostage and brought to his shoulder so he could rest a heavy palm on your hip unhindered. You let your hand wander up his pauldron to the edge of his helmet, sneaking a finger between the metal and the man to toy with his curls. The hand on your waist pulled you closer, and he gently pressed his helmet to your brow.

“Riduur’ika,” He purred, making the cool beskar rumble against your skin. “You don’t think I’m… intimidating!?” The arm against your waist hugged you tight while the other twirled you around in a circle, and you made some kind of undignified squeak as you were dipped low. Parallel to the ship's floor, you clawed at his cowl as if he would drop you, though his grip was stronger than beskar. You caught the reflection of your own wild eyes as his visor tilted to meet your gaze. “How about now?”

Safe in his arms, you snorted a laugh and stuffed your hands under his helmet to pick the latches free and toss the heavy thing off, ignoring the sound of it rolling away from you while you kissed your husband. The Mandalorian’s warm, soft lips against your own muffled the few stray giggles that tried to escape your mouth, tickled by not only his romance but also his mustache. Those dark chocolate eyes of his met your own, and the edges of his cheeks rolled right up into them with a dazzling smile. Maker help you.

“Din! Where the hell did you pick that up from?” A warm laugh reverberated against you before he was pushing his lips to yours in another fiery kiss.

“Saw it in a holovid once, some kind of… courtship ritual, I think. I’ve, uh, always wanted to t-try it…” His wavering baritone trailed off with a hint of embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but snicker.

“‘Courtship ritual’, huh? Golly gee willikers, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”

His cheeks flushed pink, “Is it working?”

“Mmm… no.”

The gorgeous smile on his scruffy face was replaced with a scowl a mile wide, but you laughed and kissed at it anyway. You heard him inhale sharply when you started to push your tongue past his lips, and he met yours with his own. Without parting, he slowly stood the pair of you back up, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him even closer.

Free from the muck of the forest floor that had clung to his armor, or the stygian waters of the river soaking his cloak, the familiar scent of him had returned. Rich and smokey, sweat and leather and blast plasma and the faintest remnants of the fresher soap you adored. The spice of him saturated your lungs and drenched your heart with the promise of his eternal company, giving you that delightfully warm and gooey feeling that he alone could give.

You pulled your lips from his and kissed at his cheeks and the tip of his angular nose before grabbing the sides of his head and bringing his brow back to yours. He almost fought you over it, torn between wanting his lips against your skin and the joy of you indulging in his sacred inheritance. Either way, the stubborn little ‘patu’ that peeped up from the floor had you both pulling away to bring the foundling into your arms, you were a clan of three, after all.

It would take a few jumps to make it to your next destination, and if she could speak, the Razor Crest would tell you how glad she was for your company as she carried you through the stars. There had been a time in the old ship’s life where she had only known silence, save for the screams of captured bounties, her hull had been nearly barren with only her captain for comfort. But then the foundling had come into her Mandalorian’s life, and the sweet sounds of a child’s laughter warmed her steel heart, amplified tenfold by the starsongs you brought with you when you had arrived as well.

Like a serenade written to the stars themselves the three of you flowed through her ironsides, a triple-part harmony that reverberated from the top of her transparisteel dome to the depths of her cantankerous stardrive. The chimes of the navigation panel had gone unheard while the streaking stars spiralled around the old dropper, her passengers fully engrossed with each other's company. There was so much laughter now, between stories told and songs sang high, the starcraft’s walls nearly rang with mirth.

The jokes you would tell, as terrible as they often were, made the Crest’s captain smile so often now; his scruffy cheeks going right up into his eyes whenever he flashed those pearly whites. He was so sweet, so gentle when the beskar was lifted from him, as if a new man was made every time the armor fell away. The oath of riddurok had given him such a gift, the gift of touch, and he relished in it at every turn; pressing kisses to the faces of the two he loved most.

And when it was time to rest, hidden away in the little sleeping alcove the three of you laid, wrapped more tightly together than any captured quarry. Below the howl of the hyperdrive engine, so faint it was almost like a secret, would come the sound of your starsongs. For your boys alone would you let yourself remember the rhymes of timelost sailors, sang low and slow to ease them to sleep. The foundling usually blacked right out on the first verses, but your unarmored husband would grapple with the pull of sleep for as long as he could, just to hear your voice.

When you dropped out of hyperspace the uncaring iceball called Hoth dominated your view, nearly blinding you with its glaring white surface. Your captain flew the Crest over the snowy expanse, looking for any sign of life or even a point of interest, but the ice fields seemed to stretch on forever between snow covered steppes. You had to pull your visor down just to be able to look out the window, and you attempted to cycle its settings as if that would do you any good, but everything came back as solid colors as far as the eye could see.

“This is bullshit, there’s nothing down there.” In your palm the bounty puck glowed faintly, making a liar out of you; but you ignored it to watch a herd of large, bipedal herbivores making their way along a mountainous ridge. The Crest put the animals in the rear view quicker than you would have liked, and you leaned against the transparisteel with a huff. In your lap the foundling was watching joyfully out the window, seemingly undeterred by the blinding snow. You started trying to get the baby rearranged when you saw the fob flash erratically before going back to lazy blinks. “Din wait! I think we passed it!”

“Passed what? I don’t see anything.” Below you the vast expanse was flat as a fresh pressed sheet, only dotted here and there with specks of icy blue.

“Circle around!” You tucked the foundling under your arm and unbuckled yourself from your seat to squish into the narrow space between Din’s armrest and the dashboard so he could see the fob for himself. He slowed the mighty metal bird down as slow as she would go and flew her in a wide circle back towards the way you’d come in.

Flash… flash… flash flash flASHFLAsh flash… flash…

“You see that? There gotta be something down there, maybe it’s under the snow. Take us down, captain!” In the corner of your eye you caught the slightest jostle of his helmet, though it could have just as easily been the rocking of the ship that made his head move, but you knew better. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, captain.” The poorly veiled cheekiness in his voice was met with a loving suckerpunch against the side of his pauldron. You’d completely failed to learn your lesson about the bite of beskar, and you hissed at the iron’s sting on your knuckles. The Crest floated down gently, her engines kicking up flurries of crisp white snow over the broad expanse. The moment the landing struts had locked into place your armored companion was grabbing for your wrist. “That’s why you shouldn’t try to fight me, mesh’la.”

“Bite me.”

A soft thumbpad brushed gently against your reddening knuckles, making you wince just slightly. The black gloss of his single eye slowly coasted up to meet your own, then cocked sideways. “Looks like I already did.” With his other hand he lifted the edge of his helmet just enough to press the softest kiss to the back of your hand, and though his sweetness made your heart thunder against its cage, the wry upturn of his lips almost made you want to punch him again.

Under your arm the foundling squirmed and cooed, and you brushed your captured hand along the edge of your husband’s bristly jaw before pulling the child around to your chest so you could both look out the window. The alabaster plains stretched out in all directions like the Dune Sea of Tatooine, nothing for miles.

“Din I think this fob is busted, and probably the puck too, there’s fuckall out-”

*-crik- c-c-crrrack craack!-*

Something snap-crackle-popped outside the ship, like the sound of suspension cables breaking. High pitched creaks between deep, almost gutterel booms. Ice.

“Cyare… don’t… move.” The armored monolith was frozen solid, more frozen than the ice underneath you apparently. Not even the sound of his modulated breathing could be heard in the stillness of the flightdeck.

*...cricckckcick..creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak……cruUNCH!-*

The ship lurched, a vicious gash splitting the ice below you. You lurched with it, your heart leaping to your throat as your arms squished the baby tight. A gloved hand shot from the steering controls to steady you.

*-k-k-reaaaak thuddduddudud… crRONCH!-*

“Oh fuck.”

*….CrAcK-!*

The Crest tilted nose-first into the growing abyss, and your oathsworn had only a split second to haul you and the foundling into his seat before the old girl was hurtling through the breach.

For a moment you were in free fall, a canyon of aquamarine flying past the window, darkening with every passing second. It felt like slow motion, your legs becoming weightless while the rest of you was anchored to the pilots seat.

*-ka-RuNcH!-*

Rigid muscle and beskar enveloped you as the Razor hit the ground, metal crunching and screeching with the impact. Your deathgrip on the foundling was only matched by the armored grasp around you, keeping the two of you locked safely to Din’s chest. Bulbs flickered and wires sparked in the waning light of the flight deck, though your eyes were so tightly screwed shut you didn’t notice. You took a cautious breath, only now aware that you had been holding it before wrenching an eye open. Beskar dominated your view, the heavy helmet of your husband pressed tightly to your face.

“Are you ok?” came a modulated whisper.

“Yeah, are you?” He nodded against you, and you peeled yourselves apart to inspect the foundling that was encased between your chests. Baby Beans chirruped and ogled at his fussing buir, the two of you knocking into each other while you both checked him for damage. When he’d passed both your inspections you glanced around the cockpit, though you guessed from the sound of the impact most of the damage would be down below.

You practically needed a crowbar to get Din’s arms off of you, his protector’s instinct running at full bore to guard his clan, but you managed to weasel out of his iron grasp. Frigid air gusted up through the ladder hole before you’d even crossed the short distance to the drophatch, making you shudder. Below, the force of the impact had torn the Razor’s walls asunder, breaking apart her riveted seams. Icy wind blew in through the gashes, freezing the mist that sprang from your eyes.

“Oh, my poor Lady…” You whispered, your heart aching from seeing your ship so wounded. Heavy boots made their way down the ladder behind you, and you turned to your oathsworn, “Can… can we fix this?”

“We can try, but you need something warmer.” Stoic as the day you met, Mando strode to the bent lockers and forced his way in, pulling out a heavy parka and draping it around your shoulders. The cold weather garb was entirely too big for you, but it snuggled around you like a warm hug, blocking out the frigid breeze. In your arms the foundling peeped out from the collar, just enough to watch his papa without getting too chilly.

Din was elbow deep in another wrecked cabinet, scrounging up whatever tools he could find to repair the damage. You joined him at the growing pile, holding onto the child with one arm and trying to pick a portable welder up with the other. Hands too full, you ducked into the oversized parka and worked to stuff the baby up under your shirt, cinching your belt under his butt so he wouldn’t fall out. There, stay warm you little fart.

It took a while for the two of you to make enough progress on the broken bird to get her closed up again, but many hands make the work lighter. Ship repair had been your very first duty when you went starborne, and your hands remembered how to bend durasteel to your will, though you would probably need to get to an actual mechanic if you were going to be star-worthy again.

Occasionally you caught the tilt of your Mandalorian’s visor when you fired up the welder or cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt, snapping away from you when you’d shoot him a sly wink. Once the cabin was passable, it was time to work on the exterior, but you swatted at Din’s occupied mitts, demanding that the two of you take a rest beforehand. His back cracked when he stood up straight, and though he wouldn’t admit it, a break was a good idea.

“Do you have a kettle or something I can make hot water in? I think I saw a canister of broth we can heat up.” Your repair work on the hull must have been pretty damn efficient, because the parka was beginning to get warm, and you started to shrug it off when you heard the rackety sound of something clattering to the floor.

“B-buir’ika?” Behind you, Din had dropped a heavy tool and was staring at you with that black hole gaze of his.

“Boo-ear-eeka? What does- oh!” You glanced down at yourself and laughed, your tunic protruding with a large, rounded tummy. “Chilly beans!” Bending forward, you pulled your collar down so your oathsworn could see the half-lidded eyes of the cozy foundling hidden below the swell of your breasts. “I didn’t want him to get cold.”

When you looked up from the babe’s sweet face, your armored husband had silently crossed the length of the hold and was nervously reaching towards you, his hands hovering over the lumpy shape in your middle. Gently he set his palms to where the child was bundled, slowly gliding over the taut fabric and making you flush crimson. Din did a double take on your cherry-red face and pulled away, muttering an apology and hastily returning to his duty as kettle-fetcher.

When you’d gotten the foundling out of your shirt and the thin soup heated, you sat down on your regular eating crate with your crew. The three of you took your break quietly since eating or drinking in your presence still made Din a little embarrassed, but between his timidness and the awkward term of endearment the tension in the cabin was so thick you could cut it with a vibro. He usually pressed his back to yours, but now he was hunched over his bowl of broth, sipping silently.

When your cup was empty you got up from your seat, pressed a kiss to each of your boy’s heads, and got your tools around to work on the outside of the Crest. You were garbed and out the exit before Din could protest, though you wouldn’t have listened anyway if he did. Once the ramp closed behind you, you took a deep breath of the glacial air, letting it clear your head. Shore leave was a luxury you rarely got to indulge in during your early years, and your love of having your boots on the ground only got stronger as the years went by.

The basin you had crashed into sprawled beneath the ice sheet high above your head, supported by enormous pillars of frozen water. This had probably been a lake once, or even a small sea, but when the water drained it left behind the frozen aquifer you now found yourself stuck in. High above you the light from where you had fallen through the ice cast frosty sunbeams through the falling snow, faintly illuminating the mythical columns in cobalt and turquoise hues.

Your boots crunched through the ancient permafrost as you made your rounds, taking a mental checklist of the Razor’s damage. Her keel had taken the brunt of the impact, but one of her wingtips was pretty busted up, a twisted panel sending sparks into the cerulean cathedral that would probably take two people to fix.

Out of curiosity you pulled the blinker from somewhere in your parka, relieved to see that it was indeed flashing. If you had thrown your crew to the depths of Niflheim on a busted fob you might never forgive yourself. You wondered what the acoustics would be like in the icy cavern, but the threat of bringing the fragile ice sheet down around your ears kept you quiet. Holding the fob up, you made a wide circle around the ship, trying to pinpoint which way the blinks were fastest. This way… You cast a quick glance over your shoulder at the Crest with her ramps still closed, and started towards your quarry.

~

In the ship's durasteel depths, Din sighed and groaned, unsure how to feel. He hated not being next to you, but he respected you enough to know you might need some space after… that. He tried to distract himself by wiping off the foundling’s mush-mouth with the edge of his cloak, but that almost made things worse. Our foundling.

Everything about The Way encouraged the safety and procreation of younglings, and not only as a riduur but also an Alor he should be fathering many children with you to recover Mandalore’s losses. But you had said you weren’t ready, and he honored your wishes, but even so, his heart ached with the desire to see you filled with his warriors.

He knew he shouldn’t, but that was suddenly all he could imagine, you round and glowing and full…

“Damn it.” He could feel his face flush red, and the honeyglow seeped through his bones all the way down to his guts, forcing him to pull his helmet back on just to regain his composure. When the visor was back over his eyes, he glanced down at the foundling, who was making some kind of face up at him. “This is your fault.”

“Patu!”

~

The Crest was a good distance behind you now, the edges of her wings partially obscured by the ice, but not quite out of eyeshot. The air was stagnant so far below the surface, the cold of it sitting heavy in your lungs and freezing inside your nose. Aside from the towers of frost and fallen snow, the cavern was empty. Enormous, but empty. This fucking fob, there’s nothing here. You were half tempted to chuck the hunk of garbage away or stomp it out, take the loss just to get the fuck out of here, when you felt a subtle breeze waft over you.

You were too far from the breach for it to be coming from above you, and you held perfectly still, trying to determine its source. Too faint, you bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, chucking it high above you and watching the way it fell. That way! Suddenly excited to play Arctic Explorer, you hustled to find the source of the breeze.

Twice more you used the snow as a compass until you were at a colossal glacier, the size of it easily big enough to swallow a large starship. A splotch of dark blue stood out against the ivory, and as you got closer you saw it was a fissure in the ice, a tunnel of some kind. Maybe this is where the water went. The air coming out of it was making your parka flap around you while you held up the fob: flashflashflash. Whatever it is you were tracking had to be down there, and you brushed ice crystals off of your faceplate to flip through your extrasensory settings until thermal flickered to life.

Warm. The air coming out of the tunnel was warm, though only by a few degrees more; not enough to thaw your bones, but enough to register on your visor. You stepped forward, tucking your head into the tunnel. Dark as the depths of an ocean and just as blue, the frozen tube stretched away, darker and darker until it turned to void. Stepping just inside the entrance, you flailed when your boots nearly lost traction.

This is dangerous, I don’t know what’s in there. A gust of air blasted around you as if to warn you away. Could be anything, maybe I should wait for- Ah FUCK!

The thought was knocked from your skull when your boots slipped out from under you and you slid ass over teakettle down the icy channel, vanishing into the dark.

~

The inside of the Crest was immaculate, more ship-shape that she had been in a long time. Din had to keep busy, after the repairs were given another once-over and you still hadn’t returned he had started reshelving all the tools and cookware, and only when the last thing left to do was mop did he give up his endeavors. Where the hell is she? He was getting anxious, more so than he usually was. His hands fidgeted with the strap that crossed his chest, thumbing at each of the slugs in line. She should be back by now.

What if she’s hurt? His hands froze on the leather, his breath catching in his chest. He knew you were capable, but what if something got you, or you fell or… or…

“Kid, let’s go.” The ‘what ifs’ that drained out of his thoughts and down his throat turned to bile in the pit of his stomach, and he had to do something about it. She can be as mad at me as she wants, I don’t care, I just need to know she’s safe. Quickly he grabbed a few supplies, loading up his rucksack with rehearsed precision: bacta, shovel, thermos, jet pack, munitions, rations. The foundling gibbered while his papa wrapped him up in a heavy blanket before setting him in his pram. I’m coming, cyare!

~

The slip-and-slide you had gotten yourself into wooshed past your ears, and you could only curl in a ball to protect yourself as you hurtled through the chasm of ice. The violet hue coming through your visor slowly turned to warmer tones as the temperature steadily increased. You struggled to grab a vibro off of your belt as you spun through the dark, but the singing dagger only scraped against the solid ice, the permafrost so old and strong that not even steel could cut it.

Under you the angle changed sharply, tossing you on your ass over another slope before you were falling through the air. You tucked and rolled when you hit the ground, desperately trying not to get your neck broken. Skittering to a halt, you cautiously let yourself uncurl, but what your eyes saw made you think you had landed on your head.

“Woah.”

~

The top of the Crest was still damaged, though Mando knew you had left with the intent to do repairs. Not up there. Your footprints circled around the old ship in a few loops before heading off into the cavern. Fuck, where did she go? The prints from your shoes still glowed faintly with residual heat on his visor, and he checked on the foundling’s comfort one more time before following your trail.

~

The Universe has a strange way of granting wishes.

Crystalline gravel crunched underfoot as you approached the beach you had landed in front of. Mineral-rich water bubbled and boiled in front of you with volcanic heat, steaming up the chamber you now found yourself in. The thick, viscous ooze was so leden with salts that its edges were caked with jagged deposits that lapped against the sides of tall, crested structures that almost resembled a reef. The subterranean coral ranged in size and height from just below your knees to easily three times your height, almost brushing the stalactites that hung from the vaulted ceiling.

You wished you had a holo-corder or data cube handy, because there was no way anybody had been here before, though maybe for good reason. The colors on your visor ranged from bright yellow to teal to hot motherfuckin’ pink, and you lifted your faceplate up to wipe at the sweat that was beading on your brow. The vibrancy of the reef without your sensors was even more garish in person, caught in the radiant light that seemed to drip from the ceiling on the tails of glow worms.

The ground under your boots sounded like glass breaking as you wandered through the cavern, spellbound by the sprawling grove. It took a herculean effort to bring your gaze down to the fob in your hand: FLASHFLASHFLASH! You held the tracker high, doing a little spin to try and locate the target, letting your feet walk on their own. Maybe the coral is the target? Stopping at a particular orange staghorn, you held the fob to its spongy flesh, nope, not this one…

From fan to tube to spiraling tower you walked, holding the fob up to each one in turn, waiting for a solid link. The reef thickened as you moved away from the lagoon, growing in taller and thicker clusters until you had to scrape your way between them to continue. Under your parka you were sweating like a quacta, but the spiny polyps on some of the branches could easily scratch you without it as you wormed your way between them. The crystalline gravel under you started to make a different noise, from a crunchacrunch to a squishasquash. Beneath your boots, long, dark purple roots were growing, pulsating with the fluid that flowed through their veins. Eww…

~

The silence of the cerulean cathedral weighed heavy on Mando's audio processors, more so than the stillness of the air. He was in full hunter mode, following your tracks to where you were hopefully safe and sound, though if he let himself think anything else he worried he might have a full blown panic attack. No, can’t think about that. Find the quarry, find your wife. Don’t think about her being hurt, or lost or scared or…

From the open pram a chirruping coo echoed softly between the towering pillars of ice, bringing Din’s attention to his son. Though the foundling looked alright, the tips of his ears were turning the faintest shade of blue. Din pulled his cloak off, though he needed it just as much in the sub-zero space, his foundling always came first. The fabric heaped out of the pram, almost covering the child completely. If she were here, would she put the baby in her shirt again to keep him warm?

Suddenly he didn’t need his cloak, the fire in his chest surging out to burn at his ribs and scald his cheeks. He stopped, shaking his head at the embarrassment that sprouted from his scorched insides. You’ve got it bad, Djarin. Your tracks had lost their heat, but he could still clearly see your footprints in the snow, and a flood of determination spurred him on. Find the quarry.

~

The dark purple roots lead you to a grove of anemone shaped corals, their thick tentacles reaching for the jagged sky. At the center of their radials sat a fat, lumpy bulb, protected by fleshy limbs. Draped between the spires, more of the icky veins hung like vines, throbbing and pulsing with whatever goo they were filled with.

Touching the blinker to the closest arm, the flashing red light went solid, bingo! “This is it!” Your excited voice would have echoed in the chamber that you had fallen from, but the sponges soaked up your words. You’d left the puck back on the Crest, but you remember you were here for some kind of shape, eggish or stone like, but the waving arms arched upwards into bare, knobbly tips. Fruitless.

That left the pod in the center, probably some kind of seed in the bottom of its pistil. Gonna have to cut my way though. You turned your attention to the viney spires that blocked your path to the center and pulled a vibro from your now sweat-soaked parka. Cautiously, and without turning on the thrummer, you touched the blade to the creeping flesh.

Your knife sank easily, and the fluid that filled the tentacles oozed readily out over the steel. Oooooh, pretty! Though it was mostly clear, the syrup gleamed with a holographic, oily shine, looking like a melted rainbow as it seeped through the wound. The open gash quickly grew new vines that slimed their way around their host trunk, pulsating with goop. Weird.

What hit you next was the smell, an intoxicating sweetness like honey on fruit sitting out on a hot summer day. If the anemone was poisonous, it had a devilish way of attracting its prey, whatever that might be, because the temptation to lick your knife clean became almost overwhelming. That is the stupidest goddamn idea you’ve ever had, get cuttin’, damn it! You hacked and slashed your way to the center, trying to out-cut the regrowth; but the scent quickly made you feel hazy. You reached out to grab one of the arms for support, your cloudy head threatening to toss you on your ass, and the serpentine buds tried to coil around your wrists. Sonofabitch! Fuck off ya big vegetable. Just… just a little further.

~

“Of course this is where she went.” Standing at the crack in the ice, Mando was pacing back and forth with his hands stabbed to his hips. Your tracks ended abruptly at the fissure, and the slick surface told him you had probably slipped and fell into the dark, and he was going to have to jump down after you. The hole stretched far away through the ice, so far that not even his full helmet’s array of sensors could detect the bottom. He rested a boot on the icy surface, giving it an experimental slip. If he fell down the hole as well, he would be no good to either of you.

Every protective instinct told him to jump, go in after you, get you to safety, but his hunter instincts knew better. Fishing the trencher from his bag, he sat down at the entrance and tucked the shovel under his knees, pointy side out. He pulled the foundling’s crib into his lap and carefully started the slide. The shovel blade screeched against the tunnel, and though it couldn’t break the ice it would at least slow him down as he scraped his way through the dark.

~

You were dizzy, the coral’s perfume making you falter. Your goal was so close, but in your haze you were starting to get tangled in the vines that laced through the anemone's arms, and it wasn’t long before they were tangled around your own outstretched limbs. Stupid fern, ger’off me! Yanking against the tendrils only seemed to make things worse, and soon your legs were being caught up as well. Fuckin’shit’it’all. Progress to the core stopped completely, and you stood a moment to catch your breath. Fucksake, this shit is strong! You knew you weren’t moving, but even dazed you could feel something snaking around your boots, and you kicked at the movement, horrified to find that you couldn’t. Shit balls of fucking hell!

The slimy vines coiled around your legs, and you fought valiantly to cut them away, but the more you cut the more seemed to grow like hydras from the anemone's wounds. They were up to your knees, then your waist, and the weight of them started to pull on you until you were dragged to the ground. Struggling in their grasp, they tightened on your arms until you could only writhe like an insect caught in a spiders web. You started to scream, but the creeping thing stuffed itself up under your faceplate and plunged into your mouth.

Something warm and wet oozed between your teeth, and you bit down on the assaulting tendril, only to flood your mouth with more of the sweet syrup. Even in your panic you were taken aback by the taste of it, sweet and rich, almost ambrosial, and a wildly primal instinct told you that you wanted more. Around your limbs the vines were not constricting, merely holding you down, and you took another cautious gulp of the nectar. Your fear began to subside, though in the back of your mind you knew it shouldn’t; you were in a subterranean hellscape, far away from your partner, with some bullshit plant keeping you hostage, but maybe one more taste wouldn’t hurt...

You sucked at the intruder, delighted to find it give you more of the tasty substance, the flavor of it settling warm and snuggly in your belly. Closing your eyes you lapped away, enjoying the hazy, almost drunken feeling that was washing over you. It was blissful and comforting, even wrapped up in the living spires you couldn’t be bothered to care as long as you got to have more.

Something slithered up around your legs and waist, but caught up in the ambrosia you paid it no mind until it was worming its way into the waistband of your pants. Your trousers were pulled down around the tops of your boots, and though the sweltering volcanic atmosphere was making you sweat, the heat burning between your legs almost made the air feel cold. The sudden change in temperature reeled you back to reality, and you tried to spit the vine out while you squirmed in the hydra’s grasp. Another gush of nectar leaked over your tongue, and you greedily sucked it down, feeling another wave of cozy fogginess settle in your head.

Not even the sweetness on your lips could distract you from the feeling of something slimeing its way between your legs, leaving a trail of slick around your entrance. The goop tingled, leaving the same warm and wet feeling behind that it was leaving in your throat. Maker help you it felt good, though some distant instinct screamed to you that it shouldn’t, but you couldn’t hear it if you wanted to. Your back arched, driving your hips against the coils between your thighs, chasing the sensation.

The hydra’s arms pushed their way inside you, many thin strands that sqirmed and writhed, working to stretch you wider. Their efforts slicked past your clit, rubbing the tantalizing ooze around the sensitive little nub while they opened you up. Your hips rocked on their own, though in your captured state you were nearly helpless to chase your own high, but the coral’s limbs worked you up for you. Inside you could feel them, sliding past each other in the warm slick in tandem with the rubbing on your aching clit making you obscenely wetter.

You cried out around the knob still in your mouth as a thicker arm started to push up into you, gliding through the slick nectar. The smaller vines coiled around the newcomer, spiraling up its length as it started to pump in and out of your dripping cunt, adding ridges to the smooth length. Fuck it’s thick! The ties on your legs held you in place as the tendril fucked itself into you, twisting and slimeing around your insides. Hot streams of juice, both yours and the hydra’s, coursed down your thighs almost embarrassingly fast, and you choked and gasped around the spigot while you came.

As if it was emboldened by your orgasm the tentacle surged up into you, leaking what felt like gallons of the wonderful, mind numbing nectar into your fluttering cunt until it was pouring out of you. It thrust against your cervix, dragging the smaller tips around the sensitive muscle. More of the threadlike tendrils tried to push in with the larger one, plucking at your clit and folds and playing you like a sinful harp.

The sensation of it all stoked fire in your core until it was nearly burning you alive, and you gladly let the blaze consume you as the devious creature fucked you stupid. Warm juice practically gushed out of you when you came again, squirting all over the arms that held you captive. Your legs were pulled further apart, anything to open you up to fit more of the sneaky devils in you until you were stretched as wide as you would go, the girth of the serpentis shaft pushing against the bones of your hips from the inside.

Slicked thoroughly, the widest arm rolled against the muscle that protected your womb, and even in your lust-drunk state you could feel it pouring its juices into you. The smaller tendrils followed the nectar up into you where no cock could ever reach, teasing at the rim of the protective coil until it started to relax. More pushed past the ring of muscle until you could feel it gaping, holding you open against the large, blunt tip.

The thrusting stopped, and you mewled sinfully around the vine between your teeth, begging it not to, oh fuck please don’t stop! Whatever aphrodisiac you had been pumped full of was screaming for more more more! Your body hungered for more release, as if you hadn’t drenched the surrounding reef underneath you. You flickered an eye open, but the way your back was curved gave you no vantage of the scene below your waist, but you could see the central pod you had so valiantly tried, and failed, to reach.

From a hole in its top grew the amorphophallus that was filling you so deliciously, and you watched in horror as it pulsed something bulbous up its length. The bulge got closer until it disappeared from your line of view, but it wasn’t long before you felt it, something big pushing against your entrance. You cried out against the gag, but you were held steadfast as the rounded thing forced its way inside you.

The width of it knocked against your hip bones until it was past their crest, and you clenched as best you could around the delicious stretch until you felt something you’ve never felt before. You’ve been fingered, you’ve been fucked and loved and filled to capacity, but the weight of something being deposited in your belly was something wonderfully new. The heft of it felt good, filling and wholesome, though the feeling of terror was still trying to permeate your hazy mind, telling you to run, as if you could. Your hands were bound to your sides, but you wanted to rub at your belly and feel what had been put there. The press of another orb teased at your entrance, and you bucked your hips at it, encouraging another fill.

So good! The unknown object settled in your womb next to the first, the size of them pressing against the back of your abdominal wall, any more and you would be showing. A third bulge made itself known, and you seized your coils around it, letting it bring you to release with its stretch. You came around the vines, and the hydra wormed another pod past your cervix, riding with you through your high. A fourth, a fifth, sixth! You forced an eye open, and the swell of your stomach was visible over the curves of your breasts. Fuuuuck, any more and you really might be fit to burst.

Three more times you were gloriously stretched and drained, the exertion of so many orgasms nearly causing you to faint, but you would do so gladly in your heightened state. One more for good measure pulsed into your swollen belly before the vines receded, and the bindings on your arms and legs withered and died. Gloriously spent, you laid on the ground in a pool of nectar and juices, weakly tugging the vine from your mouth so you could gasp for air. With shaking arms you tried to pry yourself free of the dried tendrils, but the nectar that still filled you felt so good that you almost didn’t want to move, lest it drain out.

The first thing you noticed when the effects began to fade was how much the skin on your abdomen hurt, it felt tight, and you weakly brought a hand up to feel it. Maker above! Your belly was full, and you poked at your protruding middle, feeling the pods inside you slosh around in the devious nectar. Warm goo poured out between your legs, making your eyes roll back from the heat. Through your cloudy mind you thought you heard something, something far away that sounded like shouting. The shouts got closer, and you could almost swear it sounded like your name. Maybe it was.

“Tra’laar!” That was definitely your name, though it sounded distant and fuzzy. You tried to call out to the voice, only to cough up more of the sweet syrup that lined your throat. The taste of it was still as delicious as it had been from the beginning, and another blaze of heat coasted down your spine and made your guts clench and your belly jiggle. Licking your lips you called again, this time with enough force to actually make noise, and the sound of corals being torn apart as something barreled through the reef towards you made itself known.

“Tra-” Mando skittered to a halt somewhere beside you, the sound of your gifted name snagging in his mouth. There you were on the cavern floor, covered in dead vines and some kind of goo, but the most distressing sight of all was your sudden pregnancy. Cautiously he approached you and started untangling your arms and legs, trying to clear the offending tentacles away. He kneeled beside you, his armored hands hovering over your rounded shape. “Riduur’ika? Wh- what happened to you?!” His voice was shaking, barely a whisper coming through his modulator.

“Heeeyyy~” You purred, still buzzed on the herbal wine that had soaked every nerve in your body. “Babe… I think… um. I think there’s something… i-inside… me?”

“Well I can see that!” There was some kind of tone to his voice, wedged somewhere between anger and fear and maybe just a sprinkle of desire. “What did this to you?!”

“I dunno... that wiggly thingie got all up in my bisnatch.” You rubbed at your eyes, trying to get some clarity while your armored companion stressed himself to a frenzy. Mama-hen Mando’s fretting started to make you giggle, and the jostling of your laughs had your tummy jiggling with its fullness. Above you your oathsworn was horrified, but all you could see was his silly visor and his twitchy hands. “Prob’bly need to do something about it, don’t we?”

“Fucking hell, cyare! Yes we need to get whatever that is out of you!” He sounded really upset now, panicked even, and you shook your head trying to shake the daze. You started to sit up, but the weight of your womb made it a struggle. “Hey take it easy! Here, let me help you.” His protector instincts kicked in, and he was wrapping himself up around you to raise you to a seated position. You couldn’t help the way you rubbed at your tummy, still riding the high of the juice that coated your cunt and thighs and stuck to the back of your throat. I wonder if I can bottle this up and sell it.

A soft leather hand placed itself on your swell, moving over your taut skin with a featherlight touch. “This isn’t right,” you heard him say, “I should be the one filling your belly, not some fucking vegetable!”

Stupid chuckles burst out your mouth and made you snort, “Pfft… babe are you jealous some fruit by the foot knocked your girl up?”

“Damn it all yes I’m jealous! Of course I am, I'm your husband! And why aren’t you more upset? You almost look like you’re enjoying this!” You ignored him to swipe a finger through the goop on your leg and bring it up to your lips, slurping noisily at the colorful syrup.

“It’s this stuff, it’s tasty! You should try it!” The snap of his visor told you he wasn’t going to indulge you, but his gentle touch was pressing carefully under the drop of your belly, and you could see him watching the way it wiggled. “Bah, you like this don’t you? Don’t lie to me, bucketboy.”

“No!... Well… maybe a little.” He shook his head, trying not to be disoriented by the same daze you were. “We’re getting this out of you right now! Can you sit up? Get on your knees?” He guided you up off your butt and onto your haunches, the weight of your middle lurching forward from the motion, swaying under you. “Stars above, mesh’la, I-I don’t know how to f-feel about this…” He trailed off, torn between seeing you swollen full and knowing damn well whatever it was could probably kill you. “You’re beautiful…”

“Ha, I knew you liked this, now c’mon and get this fucker out of me, yeah?” How the actual fuck were you supposed to do that? Your partner pulled his gloves off and went for the obvious route, sliding his long, calloused fingers up inside your sopping cunt with a curse. Three of his devious digits went up without a hitch in your overstretched state, teasing around to get a feel of you.

“I didn’t know you stretched this wide, cyare, does… does this feel good?”

You shot him a sideways glare, letting your lips turn up in a mischievous sneer. “Ye-yeah, feels amazing.” the ambrosia was still making you sex crazed, and even with your legs covered in your own arousal you could tell there was still more to give. “Din..?”

“I’m right here, buir’ika, I’ve got you.” He scootched back behind you, wrapping one arm in between your breasts and your belly to hold you in place while he hunted through your slick folds. Din had become an expert at finding that naughty patch of nerves behind your clit that had your muscles tightening around his strong hands in seconds, and you let him work your ecstasy right back up. “That’s it, mesh’la, fucking stars I can feel you, you’re close! Come for me, that’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He pressed his helmeted head against your own, burying the sharp edge of the beskar in the meat of your shoulder while you tightened around him. His other arm pressed down on your swell, and the force of your orgasm squeezed something out of your belly and through your channel, rubbing deliciously against your walls as it passed into his waiting hand.

The seed pod that practically popped out of you was a dark purple egg-shaped thing with swirls of green and blue, matching the description of the bounty puck to a tee. Mando brought the thing around for you to see, rubbing at your side encouragingly. It shimmered in the eerie light of the cavern only briefly before it withered in his hand and flaked away on the volcanic breeze. Gone.

“Um, Mando…” You whispered, feeling a weird mix of arousal and fear ooze down your thoat with the unicorn slime, “I think if we’re gonna get them back to the ship, I think they have to, um, fuck... stay…

“Absolutely not! What if they poison you? What if they break open or s-something and kill you?”

“But the bounty-”

“Fuck the bounty!” He roared, “Fuck everything! I can’t lose you, cyare! I… I won’t, especially for a handful of credits.” The desperation that clawed at his voice stung your heart, but you were determined not to fail in your mission, no matter how creepy it was.

“Din,” you hummed, trying to calm him down, “I’m ok, really! Maybe a little mess- Oh~!” The Mandalorian’s fingers slid right back up your weeping cunt, fucking into you mercilously. His rough fingers slid easily through the slick, and he made up for the lack of friction with sheer determination. “Ah! Ah Din! Din yes! Oh yes!!!” High as a kite you went, coming all over his persistent thrusts. His grip tightened on your middle, and another pod escaped your womb.

“I told you to stop trying to fight me.” Oh fuck he’s using that voice! Dark and husky right in your ear, searing electricity over your flesh and blowing up your ovaries. The voice of a hunter, the voice of an alpha, whether he knew it or not. The timbre of it vibrated so low and strong you couldn’t help but whine against the beskar pressed to your face. “You’re going to stop arguing and you’re going to be a good girl and let me fuck you empty so I can fill you right back up. You’re mine, MY riduur, and the only thing that should be inside you is me!” His command flooded with raw power, and you blasted out another pod or two at his words alone.

You were gone, soaked to the core with desire until all you could do was moan into the armor that held you steady. Bonelessly you gave him everything you had, drenching his arms and knees with your holographic slick. Determined as ever, your armored protector pumped into you, cupping your whole pussy in his palm while he stuffed you with his fingers. When you’d rocketed the fifth seed out, you nearly fainted in his arms, drained of all your energy. Your mind was fuzzy, but you could almost pick up the sound of a question making its way over the roaring blood in your ears. “Huh?”

“How many more?” You shook your head, and a furious growl reverberated against your skull. His soaked hand slid out of you and shook itself somewhere nearby, sending melted rainbow goo flying. When the arm coiled around your belly left you, you nearly toppled, but he caught you swiftly. “Drink.” Metal was pressed to your lips, and the broth you had abandoned earlier graced your syrup-coated throat. You’d never been so thirsty, chugging it down until you were coughing, and the hand that held you reached up to cup your jaw, imploring you to swallow.

When the thermos left your lips, you leaned back against your heavily armored partner, letting his beskar hold you up. You were tired of the appetizer that was his fingers, and your swollen belly hungered for the real deal. You needed him. “Dindin… please… please I want your cock!” The body behind you couldn’t go any stiffer, and you felt his clothed erection rub against the curve of your ass. “I know you’re hard, fuck me, please?”

“Not til you’ve done as you're told.” His rasping voice was edged with heavy breaths, whether from the effort of claiming your clutch or trying not to cum in his pants you couldn’t be sure, but it sounded fucking hot as hell either way. Plated arms wrapped around you again, and you were pulled backwards into his lap with your knees thrown over his legs. He prodded your belly, trying to get a count of how many more orgasms he was going to give you. “Four… maybe five…”

Din went for your clit, spinning tight, vicious circles around the engorged nub and making you scream. “D-D-Din!!! Oh yeees! F-fuck me! Please p-please I-I want you in me!” He only hummed against you, rubbing his groin up against your ass to tease you while you came again. He stuffed an ungloved hand up your shirt to find your breasts, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds until he could feel you shaking in his grasp and pleading for his thick, girthy cock to plow into you and scramble your guts even more than they already were.

For you he was taking charge of the situation, being the anchor you needed to get through this, but behind his faceless armor he was trying not to lose his goddamn mind at the sight of you. Where you sat on him he could grind himself against your soft thighs, and even through the layers of duraweave he could easily imagine himself sliding his length through your slick heat, drenching himself in your cum. Filling that belly. “Come for me again, cyar’ika.” He had to distract himself from his perverted thoughts, though that was becoming an impossible chore. Here you were in his arms, looking like some kind of glowing goddess with your womb as heavy as it was, and he cursed the Universe for giving him exactly what he’d wished for.

Damnation flowed through his modulator at the sound of your begging. “Is that right, cyare? You want me to stuff my cock in this soaked pussy of yours? You’re gonna have to earn it.” He was conflicted about talking to you in such a way, but something about the way he was speaking to you made your muscles clench around his fingers while you moaned against his armor. “You like it when I f-fuck you like this? I know you love these hands, cyar’ika, but if you want me to give you my cock you’re gonna have to come! Come so I can fuck that beatiful belly of yours full!”

Maybe he was talking to himself more than you, but you whined in his arms nonetheless as your walls squeezed and flooded. Another hot wave of slick coated his wrist, and he tossed the seedpod away, diving right back in for the next. His strong palm kneaded at your tummy, taking another count, two, maybe three more. He knew he should still be worried, terrified even, but damn it if he wasn’t harder than beskar. His cock was straining against the inside of his pant leg, desperate to grant his own desires.

“D-Din… w-wait…” He almost didn’t hear you, the thunder of his heartbeat roaring as loud as it was in his helmet, but your wobby arm came back around and patted his leg. “Th-thermos…” The canister was at your lips in a heartbeat, but you pushed it away. “C… Catch…”

Oh! The broth was poured out into the massive puddle under you, whatever, might as well add soup to the mix. He prodded your guts once more, palpating the hard lumps that still sat inside you, two left? “Cyare, that’s it, almost done. Come on, come all over my fucking fingers so I can b-bury my cock in you where it belongs!” You cried into the armor, heat searing from where he was pressed against you to your fluttering muscles to bare down on his fingers with your impending final climax. Dark, sultry praises rasped out of his modulator, so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. “That’s it, ner riduur, one more and you can have my cock. One more and I'll stuff you with my own seed. You want that? Come for me so I can fill you up and breed you like I know you want me to!”

You nodded against him, making some kind of affirmation noise, but the last pod would be the toughest to pull, and he need to make you cum your fucking brains out if he was going to get it. He stopped his thrusts to tease at your stretched walls, rubbing his calloused fingertips against your slicked core. “What was that, riddur’ika? I can’t hear you.”

“Y-yes Din, please…” You were breathless, your words dryer than a desert as they scratched their way past your chapped lips. He laughed darkly against you, reminding you that you should probably stop teaching him new tricks.

“Yes what?”

“Breed me! Din please you big fucking jerk pump me full! I wanna be full of you!”

The cold metal of the thermos was pressed to your folds, making you cry out from the sting of it, but a hot fingertip groped at your clit, spinning one last mindblowing orgasm out of you that nearly rendered you unconscious. The metallic plonk that came from between your legs told you the pod had been captured, hopefully with enough of the nectar to keep it from drying out. Hunting is stupid. Din’s dry hand dug into the flesh of your stomach, searching for any more of the bullshit you had been filled with.

“There. Are you ok, cyar’ika?” Something like a nod wobbled your head, though the darkness coming in around the edges of your eyes told you that might be a lie. “You did so well! It’s all over now, let’s get you back up to the- cyar’ika stay with me!” Limply you laid against him, ignoring his exhausted pleas to slump against the rock hard tent pushing against your ass, trying to get him to make good on his word. You’d never been so spent in your life, as if you’d squirted out your very soul. Blinking your eyes open, you hazily saw the tilted visor of your oathsworn and shot him a lecherous grin.

“You gonna fuck me now like you said you would?”

Mando was rarely as grateful for his armor as he was right now, the cold, emotionless beskar hiding his sweat soaked face and lust-drunk eyes. The way you were watching his visor made him think you could hear the cogwheels in his head spinning out of control. Yes, yes a thousand times yes! Beautiful creature of the stars, more wondrous than any constellation. Her cunt is so perfect, so warm and wet and beautiful and literally gushing with her arousal, just begging for me to fill it. To fill her, Her womb is open, ready and waiting for my seed to be planted, a fertile haven for my younglings. They’ll be so strong, born with daggers in their teeth and songs in their hearts. I want to see her filled. I need to!

“No.” His reply barked dryly through his modulator, chewing on the sound of his denial. “We need to get out of here right now in case that fucking thing decides it wants to go for round two.” The arms that held you together wrapped around your back and under your knees, lifting you gently away from the mess. Weakly you held onto his neck, barely aware of the reef as it passed you by. Staring up at him through tired, tear-washed lashes you were filled with warmth, though not the heat you had felt from the hydra’s nectar. Better than that. Still, though the pleasant sensation was thrumming in your heart and your cunt, you were a bit peeved that he wasn’t going to give you what you’d begged for.

“You suck”

“I know.” The back of his mind roared with desire from hearing you literally beg for him to fuck you full, making his cock throb painfully against his duraweave. Keep it together, Djarin. Stars above he didn’t want to, he wanted to make good on the filthy promises he had poured over you, but there was no telling what else was lurking in the reef. He had to get you to safety, get you to the ship, and maybe then he could indulge himself. Mark you as his territory from the inside. Shaky fingers dug up under the edge of his helmet, and the feel of your skin against his face made him halt. “What is it, ner cyare’se?”

“You’re… you’re a good man. And a good dad.” The Mandalorian froze solid at that one, cocking his visor at you sharply. A new pull made itself known in his chest, something tugging on his heartstrings. Your eyes were closed, having long since given up the ghost as you started to fade away, and it took massive effort for you to drag them back open to see him. “Even if you do fucking suck s’metimes. You take good care’a me, ‘n Beans too, we’re v’ry lucky to have you.” Your words slurred, and you tried to lick your lips to get them to cooperate, but only found more of the ambrosia stuck to your face. You wouldn’t be cognizant much longer. “Thank you, Din.”

His name being spoken by you was more addictive than any spice, and paired with the praise you were whispering against his metal he nearly melted right down to the ground with you. That was all he ever wanted to be. A good man, a good husband, a good buir. Honeyglow flooded his bones, soft and warm and gentle, the polar opposite of the beskar he was covered in. He felt you curl a lock of his hair around in your fingers, the gentle tug on his scalp making him rumble. The life of a hunter was fucked up, to be sure, but as long as he had you and his son, it was bearable.

You kissed at the chest plate you were pressed to, the one that hid the embodiment of your vows safely next to his heart. He pressed his helmet to your brow, and the way you hummed against him in his arms made him want to run back to the Crest where you could have some privacy and peel his armor away, give you what you had so desperately begged him for. Maybe it was the way you were laying so limply against his cuirass, but you seemed so small to him in that moment, like without him wrapped around your body you would dissipate on the volcanic breeze like the pods had. Protect her.

“You’re… welcome.”

Your fucked-out face nuzzled against him, and he couldn’t help but hug you even tighter, making the scent of you coast up under the edge of his armor. It was different, fragrant and succulent though it was probably the juice that still clung to your legs and face. The scent of you was still there, just enhanced by the aroma, made stronger. He took a deep breath of you before continuing through the reef, almost tripping over a low coral when he wavered. Wavered? Why am I wavering?

The sound of a deep, indulgent inhale caught your ears, and you flickered an eye open to see him burrowing the front of his helmet in the fabric covering your breasts. Against you his chest ballooned fully, holding the scent of you in his lungs until it stuttered through his modulator with a curse. You giggled weakly, “Smells good, don’t it?” A low grumble made the plates against you vibrate, telling you the siren scent of the anemone was seeping into his brain. “If you think it smells good you should see how good it tastes! Try some n’ then get’cher self some sloppy seconds, I know you wanna~”

“No! The last thing we need is for me to get caught up in whatever the hell pumped you full of… quarries.” The imagery of that made you chuckle, silly, stupid laughs that bounced off his armor. He was practically jogging now, though you could feel him stumble through the stoney gravel every once in a while as the perfume of the anemone grove started to sink into his synapses. “We’re almost out of here, just a little further…”

“Bah, alright party pooper. I’ll getcha when we get back aboard.”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

You curled against him, feeling his arms go somehow even tighter. The living fortress that was your Mandalorian carried you with declining ease through the reef, and you could tell from the engine purring away under his armor that he was not nearly as composed as he sounded. One more poke, for good measure. “I love you, Din.”

“And I you, cyare.” His response came out a little cold, but only because he was desperately trying not to melt away into the same puddle of goo you had been turned into. Again you whispered his name, gliding through his ears like a song, and his heart ached to kiss you, to taste the flesh that hugged his Creed-sworn secret so well. He hadn’t heard it in so long before you came, and though his old alor knew it, it was forbidden, meaningless. But coming from you it was powerful, strong enough to bring him to his knees if they weren’t so busy wading through hell and highwater.

Vaguely you were aware of your egress, though most of it flickered in and out of your lust-lost mind. The warmth of the cavern fell away to be replaced with the cold, rushing air of the tunnel as you rocketed back up to the basin. Maybe you were dreaming of the sound of boots crunching through snow, or the soft gibbering of the founding, you couldn’t be sure, but it was pleasant nonetheless. You heard words being spoken from time to time as well, all of them muddied and faint. Maybe they were Basic, maybe Mando’a, but all of them sounded like they cared. Like every syllable and intonation humming through the iron on your cheek was spoken for you alone.

Your Mandalorian carried you diligently back to your broken chariot, trying his best to make small talk with the foundling as he floated along behind. The child seemed worried at the state of his adopted parents, And Din rattled off every reassurance that he could think of, but his legs were starting to weaken from the scent of the nectar so close to his helmet. He marched on through the glacial basin almost on autopilot until the Razor came into view. Warm air sent flurries of snow around him and his crew as the ramp fell open, and blearily he made his way inside.

He had to do something about the state of the two of you, but his knees locked and froze him to the spot, demanding he take a moment to breathe. There it was again, the fruity, summery scent of you that made his dick throb. Damn it all. Shaky steps hauled him through the cabin, and he laid you down on the little cot you both shared. He needed to get your soaked clothes off, but in order to do that he would have to get out of his own armor first. He shrugged off the helmet, though the metal had been protecting him from the temptation of you more than he realized, and the heat that gooped its way through his body from the pungency of your scent nearly threw him to the floor.

Din punched the buttons on his vambrace, closing up the foundling for the night whether he was ready for bed or not. Sorry kid. He peeled his armor away, setting the beskar aside and tossing the soaked fabric into the fresher. Next came your own clothes, and at first he worried he might wake you. Stars knew you needed the rest, but you made no indication that you even knew he was there.

Your limbs flopped like jelly while he tore off your clothes to be chucked into the fresher along with his until you were beautifully naked. Spread like a feast before him on the narrow bed, he couldn’t help but lick his lips. Little shimmers here and there told him that you were still coated in the hydra’s goo, and his first thought was to grab a washcloth to clean you up, but you stretched your lovely arms and made the splashes of color dance like melted candy on your skin, making his mouth water at the sight and giving him a much better idea. Maybe just… just a taste.

~

The faint whirring of the Crests innards caught your attention, and you came back to consciousness with agonizing slowness. You were laying on your bedroll, tucked safely away in the durasteel depths of your ship, though you weren’t sure if it was dark or if you still had your eyes closed. Warm fog settled in your head and wafted through your bones, a mindless comfort that left you blissfully numb. It could have been whatever the hydra had left in you, or more likely, it was whatever activity was going on below your waist. Your breath hitched in your throat, surprising you, but not as surprising as the stars that flashed behind your eyes. “Ah~!”

From between your legs a lusty groan shot right up your cunt and made you fist your hands in the plush fabric underneath you while you came. How is there anything left!? A broad tongue lapped at your clit, slurping away at the remnants of the nectar that coated your folds. The smooth muscle dragged itself through your slit, drinking in everything you were giving before sliding right back to that sensitive little bud to tease circles around it.

“Mesh’la.. I’m.. I’m sorry, I c-couldn’t help it, you taste so good~” The Mandalorian’s baritone rocked you to your core, and another flick of his tongue had you coming all over his face again. “P-please… forgive me.”

“F-f-forgive? Bahh… I told ya it was good, now get lickin’, bucket boy.” You tangled a hand in his curls, pushing him back down to enjoy his just desserts. His tongue fucked into you with reckless abandon, hungry and desperate for the taste of you. He dug his arms under your thighs and forced your mound as tightly up against his face as he could, and you heard him gasp for air between gulps. Exhaustion and pleasure tugged your eyes back closed, and you teetered in and out of consciousness, being brought back to the realm of the living with each fresh wave of ecstasy. Something rhythmic moved against your leg, the muscles in his shoulder thrumming away at something well out of sight. Is he jerking off?

In his hand he was going to town on his aching shaft, using the glittering goo that still flowed readily from your gloriously wet pussy to coat himself in. The coral’s effect had been burrowing into his brain stem from the moment he could smell it, calling to him like some kind of siren; but finally getting to taste it was an otherworldly experience. You had been through enough for one hunt, and though he craved release like a sex crazed animal he would happily content himself with just getting a taste of the ambrosial sweetness while you relaxed.

It hadn’t taken him long to coax the rainbow juices from your stretched folds, and even less time to slick himself with it. For a brief moment he thought he would just lap enough from your wellspring to get himself off, but soon he found himself unable to tear his face away from your delicious cunt, slurping away at the honeyed slick until he was nearly drowning in it. He dragged the colorful fluid around the tip of his cock, almost creaming himself right then and there with the warm tingly sensation that dribbled down his length.

Stars above you were juicy, wet and engorged against his frenzied tongue, though the rest of your body was boneless against him. He didn’t mind holding your legs up on his shoulders while he lovingly cleaned the nectar from the core of your body, in fact he was delighted to be of service. Lost in his indulgences he almost didn’t feel you tug on his hair, bringing his eyes up to meet your own.

“You… you can… in me… please... “ Nothing remained of your shattered mind, but you almost felt bad that he was trying to take care of himself when you were right there, ready and waiting. He shook his head against your leaking slit, dragging himself up for air to answer you, making the hazy emergency lights of the cabin sparkle in the wetness that covered his mouth and chin.

“I shouldn’t, you need to… to rest… ”

“Should’a thought about that before you started tonguin' me. Now get up here and fuck me like you said you would!”

You were starting to wonder if he liked being bossed around, because he growled against your core and yanked you back towards him, burying himself balls deep in one swift thrust. His wet mouth crashed against your own, giving you a taste of your own medicine. Fuck he wasn’t kidding, that’s delcious! He thrust into you with ragged strokes, messy and out of time. Muscular arms wrapped around your body, flooding your senses with the combined scent of him and the intoxicating perfume of the sunken grove.

Din hugged you close to his sweaty chest, digging fingers into the back of your head and the swell of your ass so he could rocket into your wonderous coils, punching the blunt tip of his cock against your tired cervix. His kisses were frantic but messy, all tongue and teeth and heated breaths as if you could do any better. You were almost surprised that you could feel him as stretched out as you were, but the spear of a Mandalorian was nothing to be scoffed at. The girthy thing rutted against your walls, bottoming out with every desperate thrust.

“Not… gonna… last… much... “ He choked on his own words, making a half dozen more ragged thrusts before blasting you full of his cum, painting your walls with his seed. The ring of muscle fluttered against his weeping tip, almost like a tongue that was greedily sucking his cum into your depths. That’s the only seeds she should be filled with, he thought blearily, my seed. His hips twitched against you, giving a few more staggered thrusts to milk himself to completion in your forgiving heat.

Din was panting, driven nearly to exhaustion by the effort of making good on his promises to fuck you senseless. Under him your own breath was stuttered, your chest crushed by his weight. He coiled his arms around you and rolled you both sideways, using the last of his strength to tuck you up under his arm and lay your head on his chest. You murmured something fondly against him as he lazily threaded his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face as best he could, but the soft breathing against his skin told him you probably didn’t notice. Soft kisses danced over your face, more for his enjoyment than your own, a fact made apparent by the cutest little snore in his ears. Sleep well, my love. And thank you. For everything.

He could lay there forever, with the weight of you on his chest and the hot slick sliding down his thighs, if he died right then and there he would die a very happy man. His fingers tried valiantly to run themselves down the curve of your spine, but there was no energy left in his body to power them, and he let them rest in the dip of your hips. Your breaths came slowly, a gentle rise and fall that heated his skin where you were pressed tightly against the crook of his neck. Din kissed your forehead again before tangling his limbs around you and burying his nose in your hair. Tomorrow we can get the exterior fixed, the inside is warm enough for now.

A gentle smile tugged at the edges of his lips, making his whiskers catch your hair. And maybe if it’s too cold for the foundling, she’ll keep him in her shirt again. Din couldn’t help but hum at the thought, you all cute and round, even if it was only temporary. By marriage you were a buir to his foundling, as truly as you would be if you had sworn the Creed, but the thought of you carrying his own flesh-and-blood ad’ika was the guiltiest pleasure he could imagine. Now that he knew what you would look like all full and heavy he could more easily indulge those devious thoughts. It was probably wrong to recall the image of you laying on that vibrant nest of tentacles, glowing and radiant and full. And in need. Needing me to care for her.

He wouldn’t admit it, and he knew you were tough enough to take care of yourself as long as you didn’t go sliding down any mysterious chasms, but he loved being needed by you. He loved that the name you had screamed for in that sunken grove was his, that you needed him to rescue you, needed him to pull the pods from your belly. Needed him to breed you. He could hear you in his mind again, you desperately begging him to fill your womb with his warriors, but you had only done so while drunk on the hydra’s wine. Was there any truth to it? Probably not, he’d practically demanded that you beg for it.

But what if there was?

Tired fingers pulled you impossibly closer to him, as if to invite you to sleep in his ribcage, curled up next to his heart. You grumbled in your sleep, murmuring something about tater tots before letting loose a beastly snore. The Mandalorian rolled his eyes, that’s her, that’s my mesh’la, my cyare, my riduur.

And maybe, when the time is right, when the bounties have been collected and the universe doesn’t seem so hostile. Maybe when we find another convert, or even just start one of our own. Someday, maybe...

Maybe I can call her my buir’ika as well.

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[wigglebox]

Good morning good morning. 

This is like, my third attempt at writing this because Tumblr keeps fucking me over lol. Happy Friday the 13th. 

When the drama in late-June happened I mostly ignored it, choosing instead to focus excitement on the prequel and what it would mean by having Robbie Thompson there and just having new content added to this SCU [SPN cinematic universe lol]. 

However it’s a month and a half later and this New York Times article got me a little miffed. It reads as an attempt to save face, a hollow attempt at PR redemption, and, as usual with PR, gaslighting and tone-deafness up the ass. 

Going to start with this paragraph first:

This is why I’m so annoyed and frustrated. Either Jarpad is the most tactless and clueless guy when it comes to his own words and statements, in which Jesus Christ why are you having him do press by himself — OR he’s the smartest guy out there which would also make him the biggest asshole. 

[should state now for the record I don’t hate this man, I’m just frustrated and exasperated at this point]

This bullshit “uwu it’s hard to convey tone over social media’ and ‘uwu i just wanted to let people know I wasn’t keeping secrets from them’ attempt to gloss over what happened is, in my opinion, such blatant gaslighting that I couldn’t believe I was actually reading that. 

Let’s take a look at these two tweets [screenshots taken from here]:

That’s not someone who’s struggling for the right words, that’s someone who got angry and fired off tweets before his brain could catch up and tell him it wasn’t a good idea. And this time it’s not some Delta worker or a random person at a restaurant, it’s his former co-workers. 

Like this tweet to Robbie especially is not someone who is concerned about tone. If anything, he’s thinking exactly about tone because he’s choosing specific words and even hashtagging them:

And yeah sure he deleted that Robbie tweet but we remembered it, and we also remembered how there wasn’t any public apology for it. 

Speaking of apologies, his apologies after were PR-based and stupid, first telling us not to attack anyone, so basically standing by his words, and then the real PR apology that felt really manufactured. 

Another thing that irritates me is that if he read the damn article he would have seen it was a script commitment. According to him, Jensen told him the next morning that nothing had even been shot yet, when, duh it’s a script commitment. Jarpad should know what those are — he’s the EP for his own fucking show.

Gutted, coward, etc etc — that’s not someone who’s thinking about how to keep things civil — and indeed — if he was trying to do that he would have messaged these people privately before taking to twitter. This was a cry baby hissy fit, nothing less. 

Moving on from that fun trip to Gaslight Land — 

This part of the article also pissed me off:

Like — does he listen to himself or anything? That’s what you made. You are a white male in a law enforcement position on this show. Sure there are more family elements to it but it’s still a cop show. It’s not a procedural cop show but a cop show nonetheless.

And I dislike the origin story he keeps peddling in these PR interviews about the show. Seeing an article in 2018 of a border guard who questioned himself after seeing children in prison does not lead to a cop show reboot from a pop culture classic. Where’s the connection, other than “cop guy feels bad”. 

It’s just such a tone-deaf thing to say, really, that you weren’t interested in making a tall, white, straight law enforcement character kicking minorities in the face. I haven’t watched it in detail, so IDK if he does ever roundhouse a person of color in the face, but you still made a show about a white man who’s a Texas Ranger. A group, I may add, that’s had some controversial history (like all of law enforcement really but still). 

You could have actually done something with a border crossing guard having a crisis of faith. Maybe make the guard a third-generation Mexican immigrant, or really the son or daughter of any immigrant from Central/South America who’s wrestling with identity or something. Something other than a stale reboot of a pop culture show from back in the day that has nothing to do with the origin story you keep repeating in all these interviews. 

I’m not going to go into every line about the article, those two bits just really stood out to me the most.

[amesstm]

AOT boys with a badass S/O

Characters: Eren, Jean, Levi, Reiner, Armin, Erwin, Zeke, Porco,

A/N: Not me secretly wanting to enforce my top energy into my writin. P.S. I do not own literally any gifs because I do not have that talent so check these folks out!

Eren Yeager

You bet that this boy came to you for help with his ODM gear

“Y/N, can you please help me?” Eren would ask with a pout and puppy eyes.

Ngl, you enjoyed having him beg for you. Okay not like that but maybe later

You help him out and all that, growing closer because you’re just that good

Mikasa gets jelly because someone is getting closer to Eren with as much gains as she has – seriously, how does she have such nice abs with little protein??

HOWEVER, when he shows off his Titan powers and starts to edge towards your Titan kills? >.>

Don’t do this at home, kids

Well, you two would make it a competition to see who could have more kills after every expedition

Levi would promptly kick your butts, as he could, because he’s the only one who can

The only time Eren could beat you in a fight was Post-Marley. Sorry, I don’t make the rules

Jean Kirstein

At first, he’d be intimidated by how strong you are

Let’s all admit it, this boy had a bit of toxic masculinity going on so he’d probably be like “wtf, a girl can’t be this strong.”

Did I mention that you could get this lanky, tall boy into a chokehold?  

Because you do :

Afterwards, he doesn’t make those comments for obvious reasons.

He’ll start to respect you much more. Soon, he might even like when you show off your skills

Toxic masculinity? Gone.  

Simping? Fully.

If you were to get into a fight, Jean wouldn’t even be concerned lol. He’d just watch like “yep, that’s the girl I love landing a roundhouse kick” - super casual  

He loves when you stand up against people, especially if you’re small. When you landed a blow on Eren, Jean might’ve gotten a nosebleed.  

Levi Ackerman

At first, it’d start with respect until it shifted into something more than that.

Again, he wasn’t looking for much when he went into the Scout Regiment beyond just saving his friends from trouble.  

But when his friends – uhh y’know, stuff – the emotional strength you also had?  

Your ability to comfort healed him and brought you two closer

When you two started to date, it wasn’t much of a surprise. In fact, it seemed like it was the right thing to do because power couple much???  

Honestly, everyone is intimidated by you two when you’re both on the field

Regardless of your personality – be it bubbly and dorky or stern and quiet – there’s a presence you both carry

Like somehow you and him can go toe-to-toe with each other easily

Titan kills? Almost equal. 

Assisted kills? Close.  

Ability to make Eren Yeager shut up? Definitely equal.

Reiner Braun

Because of Annie, he was already used to strong girls in his life

What he wasn’t used to was being put into a chokehold from what looked like an unassuming opponent

Where did you learn this??? It wasn’t even in the program???  

He doesn’t understand but he likes it – you being strong, not the choking. Just for clarification.

Or does he?

After that, he’s asking to spar with you in the hopes of not being forced to submit to you

Unfortunately for him, you always have him in submission

What can I say? Natural top.

Even if you’re not a top, you certainly can make Reiner a bottom

Armin Arlert

He’d love it without a doubt. Literal simp since day one for you.  

Armin would probably remember meeting you beating up these bullies because 

Sure, Mikasa existed but... why like her when you’re there?  

At the beginning, you’d basically be his bodyguard.  

No one was allowed to make fun of his bowl-cut without the consequences. Periodt.

But after his glow-up???  

Let’s just say ummm baby boy don’t need that much protecting anymore

Erwin Smith

Okay imma be real, he probably just sees you as a means to his goals

Hold up, hold up. But that’s because he trusts you to get the job done

His confidence in your abilities is so high because he knows you could kick anyone’s ass in the whole regiment – except for Levi’s, of course.  

But then his time working with you led to more than just respect

Unlike him, his façade about caring for humanity was a stark contrast to your willingness to die for the people around you

You were everything he wanted to be. You may show off sometimes but you surely had the credentials to back it up. You had a strong will and moral compass

You made him want to be better than he already was

Why did he charge into death on that suicide mission? Because you would do the same. Or you had already done the same.

Zeke Yeager

Y’all, brains and brawns but make it a couple

Okay, you can have smart moments but that’s not the point of this

You were the only qualified kid that had little interest in being a Warrior

It’s not that you didn’t want to help out your family, but likeee your dad was the past Armor Titan. You didn’t like saying goodbye to him

So, when Zeke told you he was entering the program, you might’ve punched him in the gut

And you might’ve ran off crying

For someone so tough, seeing you cry showed Zeke a whole new side to you. Because you hated being vulnerable, you refused to cry in public

Cue Zeke and you having a moment uwu

“You don’t always need to be so strong. You know that right?”

Porco Galliard

You know that he’d make it a competition.  

If you’re competitive, too, it’d be a daily thing where you try to out-perform one another.

If you’re not competitive, but still win??? Nah, he’d demand rematches

He loves your natural ability, but he also admires the determination to enhance your technique

Porco is the type of guy that loves strength and respects those that are better than him

He just loves a strong woman

You were the counterpart that he didn’t think he’d ever meet. Someone that finally meets his standards without even trying? Wow.  

[melzula]

Sozin’s Comet

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of injuries, mentions of burn wounds

request: Could you write a Fire Lilies blurb about Zuko's and Princess! Reader's fight against Azula during Sozin's Comet?

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

The torrid breeze was uncomfortably hot and dry against your skin as you sat on the back of Appa’s saddle and stared out into the reddened skies. Sozin’s comet was beautiful, but you couldn’t help the sense of sadness you felt knowing that something so gorgeous would be used for such selfish, sinister intentions. The royal palace was rapidly approaching, your nerves beginning to show as you fidgeted with the shark tooth hanging from your neck, and it was with one final glance at the comet soaring through the sky that you swallowed down your fears and worries. Everything you’d gone through, the heartache you’d endured, the training you’d done, all of it had led you to this moment in time, and there was no doubt in mind that you were ready for the fight.

Zuko sits at the reigns, guiding Appa through the skies and mentally preparing for the fight against his sister. You haven’t spoken much since your departure from the White Lotus campgrounds, but he knows it’s due to your need to think and meditate before going into such an important battle. A lot has happened for you over the last twenty four hours, and the strength you posses amazes Zuko to no end and encourages him to push through. The banished Prince hadn’t planned to fight for the throne nor become the Fire Lord so soon, but he acknowledged the fact that it was the only way the two of you would ever be able live a long, happy life together. Zuko would restore balance with your help as well as the rest of the Gaang, and then this war could finally be over.

Down below Azula’s coronation takes place, her head bowed low as she prepares to take on the headpiece traditionally worn by the Fire Lord. However, the Fire sage freezes uneasily at the sight of your fast approaching trio, and with Appa’s loud bellow Azula’s frenzied eyes look up to see the three of you now standing before her.

“Sorry, but you’re not going to become Fire Lord today,” Zuko states firmly. “I am.”

“You’re hilarious,” Azula replies with mock laughter.

“And you’re going down,” Katara retorts firmly. Azula’s eyes shift from your friend to you, her lips curling into a snide smile at the sight of your solemn features. You should be used to her maliciousness by now, but there’s something in the way that her eyes seem to glint with excitement at the prospect of fighting you that has you taking a step backward.

“I expected better from you, Princess,” she coos mockingly, lips curling into a sneer.

“Enough is enough, Azula. You’ve been a bully all your life and that ends now.”

“Such a sweet sentiment,” she utters sarcastically before rising from her position on the ground. “You want to be Fire Lord, Zuzu? Fine, let’s settle this. Just you and me, brother, the showdown that was always meant to be— Agni Kai!”

You expect Zuko to deny her challenge, to call her crazy and demand another option, but to your surprise he replies with a scowl, “You’re on.”

“Zuko,” you chide gently, “she’s just trying to trick you, you can’t do this. Don’t fall for it.”

“I know what I’m doing. I can take her.”

“But even you admitted to your uncle that you would need help facing Azula,” Katara argues, equally disturbed at the idea of an Agni Kai between the two siblings.

“There’s something off about her,” Zuko notes. “I can’t explain it, but she’s slipping. And this way, no one else has to get hurt.”

His golden eyes meet your own in an apologetic stare, his warm hands coming up to cup your cheeks and pull your face closer to his own so that he may gift you with a comforting kunik. Your anxiety is growing by the second, but the way in which he holds you so close and secure is enough to quell your fears for now.

“It’s going to be alright,” he soothes gently. “I promise.”

“I can’t lose anyone else,” you whisper, a single tear sliding down your cheek that Zuko is quick to wipe away.

“And you won’t.”

“Oh, enough already,” Azula snarls harshly. “Are you going to face me or not?”

With one final kiss to the forehead, Zuko releases you before taking his position across the courtyard from his sister. You stand on the sidelines with Katara, her hand held tightly in your own as you prepare to watch the match about to take place.

“It’s going to be okay,” Katara comforts. “Zuko knows what he’s doing.”

“I hope you’re right...”

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, brother,” Azula says with a smirk while unceremoniously removing her robe and tossing it to the ground.

“No, you’re not,” Zuko utters solemnly, and with a smirk Azula shoots the first blast of fire— the Agni Kai has begun.

Brilliant blasts of blue and red light up the courtyard as Zuko and Azula battle. Both fight with an intensity and ferocity like you’ve never seen before, the rooftops that surround them are on fire, but neither sibling seems to let up. Both are equally matched and filled with determination to win, but a blast that Azula narrowly manages to miss has her eyes widening in consternation. Her brows furrow with rage before she charges at Zuko, but a spiraling kick that vaguely reminds you of a move you’d seen previously performed by Aang sends Azula flying through the air until she tumbles to a stop. Her hair hangs wildly from her face as she rises back to her feet, appearance disheveled as she heaves and eyes burning with hatred for the brother she had deemed weaker than her the moment she learned what weakness was.

“No lightning today?” Zuko questions almost tauntingly. “What’s the matter, afraid I’ll redirect it?”

“What is he doing??” You utter in quiet disbelief. You can feel your nerves beginning to return at the deranged look on Azula’s features, and before you even realize your feet are moving you find yourself rushing towards the scene with Katara.

“Oh, I’ll show you lightning!”

Thunder booms from the sky as Azula begins to conjure the blue light, fingertips swirling in grand circular movements as she harnesses its power and readies the lightning to strike. From across the way Zuko stands in ready position; his shoulders are relaxed and he takes a small breath as he prepares himself to deflect her attack.

Everything seems to move in slow motion once Azula’s crazed eyes leave her brother and focus on your figure. Your features are sullen and fretful as you watch on, completely defenseless and unsuspecting of an attack. If it hadn’t been for you Zuko never would have become such a disappointment to the family. If it weren’t for you he never would have left to join your little group. If it weren’t for you Azula would have been crowned Fire Lord by now with Mai and Ty Lee still at her side. For some reason beyond her comprehension Zuko loved you, and it seemed it was up to her to teach the both of you a lesson. There was no room for weakness when it came to winning, and she’d make sure Zuko learned this good and well.

With a smirk and a sudden, fluid motion of her fingertips Azula’s blast of lightening flies straight towards you and Katara. Your body freezes in place and your first instinct is to shield her from the attack. Zuko’s eyes widen in horror as he realizes the danger you’re in, that that your life is mere seconds away from ending at the hands of his sister.

“No!” He shouts desperately, and a horrified shriek falls from your lips as the lightning strikes Zuko right in the chest. His body crumples to the floor, convulsing as the shocks of electricity course through him, and though Katara attempts to hold you back she can’t stop you from sprinting towards him.

“Zuko!” You cry out, vision blurry with tears as you rush towards his side only to suddenly be knocked off of your feet by the blast of fire you narrowly manage to avoid. Azula’s maniacal laughter sends chills down your spine as you scramble back onto your feet and skillfully avoid the relentless balls of fire she hurdles at you.

“You were never good enough for my brother!” She sneers. “You made him weak!”

“I never needed your approval,” you glower. With the motion of a roundhouse kick you guide the nearby water out from the stream through the use of your foot and send shards of ice hurtling towards Azula. She doges most of them, but one mages to rip through her sleeve and nick the skin of her bicep. She growls, golden irises aflame with anger and resentment, and just as she raises her hands to attack Katara is on the defensive.

“Go, I’ve got your back!” She calls to you, and you don’t waste another minute before rushing back to Zuko’s side. Falling to your knees beside his barely conscious body, you use your strength to flip him onto his backslide so that you have access to his wound. His robes are tattered and a gnarly scar is already beginning to settle against his skin. There isn’t much time.

You gather water from the air, a feat that’s much more difficult than usual considering how dry the atmosphere is but you manage, and with your powers at the ready you carefully rest your hands on Zuko’s chest and begin the healing process.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur quietly, tears welling in your eyes, “you’re going to be okay.”

A loud crash pulls your attention away from Zuko, and before you have time to react a gale of fire comes launching straight towards you. With wide eyes and a panicked gasp you attempt to use the water in your hands to create a shield of ice to block the attack, but your reflexes are too slow and the shield isn’t thick enough, and with a deafening crack the ice shatters and leaves you vulnerable to the flames.

The pained yelp that leaves you the moment the flames come into contact with your skin is gut wrenching for Katara who lies a few feet away in the rubble. Your first instinct was to hide behind your hands, and though the ice had lessened the force of the blast it hadn’t stopped the damage you’d endured. Your flesh is aflame and the pain is unbearable, tears welling in your eyes as you scramble to heal them, but bending only seems to worsen the ache.

“You’re nothing without your bending,” Azula cackles before returning her attention to your fellow water bender who is now back on her feet and rushing to hide behind one of the pillars. “Come back here, peasant!”

With Azula distracted you rush to the canal and stick your hands into the cool, running water. Anguished sobs fall past your lips as you push through the pain. You need to be able to bend so that you can protect yourself against another attack and, more importantly, so you can heal Zuko. You work so that burns become tolerable, not worrying just yet about completely healing them, and when you feel that you’re ready you remove your hands from the water and hurry back to Zuko’s aid.

His chest rises and falls slowly, and with the use of the water from the fountain as well as from your own tears you rest your hands upon his wound and begin to heal him. Uncomfortable tingles shoot through your palms and bite at your fingertips but you ignore it, holding back the tears and the whimper that crawls through your throat and instead focusing your energy on Zuko. Katara is suddenly at your side, and as she kneels down beside you with anxious anticipation in her eyes Zuko finally begins to wake.

“Oh, Zuko!” You exclaim tearfully, your whole body seeming to sigh in relief as he gives you the tiniest smile he can muster.

“Hello, Princess,” he utters hoarsely while Katara helps you get him back on his feet. His features soften at the sight of your hands as he carefully takes them in his own and assesses the damage. You’ll be lucky if you make it out of this without any nerve damage, and it’s likely that you’re going to carry permanent scars on your skin for the rest of your life. “Your hands...”

“Saving you was more important than healing myself,” you assure him with a faint smile. “Besides, now we’re a matching set.”

Your attempt to make a joke in the midst of such a solemn moment causes Zuko to crack the tiniest of smiles, but it fades at the sight of Azula. Chained to the sewer grate, the Princess thrashes desperately against her restraints in an attempt to free herself. Flames shoot from her mouth and as the reality of her situation finally starts to sink in she begins to cry. Her sobs are heartbreaking and full of agony, and despite your victory there is no celebrating. Azula was the product of manipulation and abuse, and despite all the horrible things she’d done to you and your friends you truly felt sorry for her.

Zuko guides you away from the scene and towards the palace, his arm tenderly wrapped around your waist and his eyes never once leaving your hands.

“Let’s get you bandaged up,” he suggests comfortingly.

“And then what?” You ask quietly only for him to exchange an uneasy glance with Katara. His eyes meet yours then, and though they are comforting they are also filled with the slightest hint of doubt.

“We wait and see if Aang finished the job.”

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal |

[hualianff]

Untethered II 《I》

I am a Soldier – Shoon

Clink! Clank! Clink!

The violent clashing of metal-on-metal fills Xie Lian’s ears as he enters the scene.

Clink! Clank! Crack!

Cannons go off on both ends, each time rupturing the turbulent atmosphere.

Blood roars in his ears.

Every sound feels distant–almost muffled–yet simultaneously intensified. The prince passes several guards fending off the enemy, uniform gold and white against mismatched grays and blacks. Xie Lian remains unperturbed as he makes his way to the main deck of the ship.

He doesn’t wish to waste his time on pirates with ragged clothes and vulgar obscenities.

“Your Highness, what are you doing out here!?” One of the royal guards screams from a level above.

“Prince Xianle, please go back inside your cabin where it’s safe!” Another one warns, but he’s immediately tackled by a pirate whose growl sounds more non-human than human. Xie Lian pays their objections no mind, ordering his guards not to be distracted and to keep fighting.

It can be described as cruel, the way the prince disregards the very thing these guards are putting their lives on the line for. Even in actual warfare, Xie Lian doesn’t experience extreme feelings of anxiety or terror. Perhaps Xie Lian has desensitized himself of these feelings, albeit in different contexts.

Dying is not his greatest fear.

Xie Lian leaps from the side of the ship that is most secured against enemy attacks to the side that is openly exposed. There, Xie Lian sees a massive ship donning maple-red flags anchored next to the royal ship. Five retractable ramps extend from the pirate ship, granting the enemy access to the royal ship.

Plenty of pirates now circle Xie Lian with interested eyes, interrupting his passive search. Xie Lian’s instincts kick in. He surges forward with impeccable speed, knocking away every enemy that blocks his path. He stabs one right in the gut and flings another into one of the wooden posts.

Xie Lian goes through the motions that he has trained over thousands of times, maddeningly alert in the wake of combat. The bedazzled sword heats up in his hold, serving its master with every twist, splice, and slash. Xie Lian never lets himself be cornered, too swift and practiced to have any blind spots.

After fifteen minutes of pushing back the enemy, XL has temporarily cleared out the area. His attention returns to scanning the opposite ship—Ghost Ship is what it’s called. Xie Lian narrows his eyes, putting one boot on the ramp, looking and listening in anticipation.

The strain of rope being pulled taut is all he needs to hear before he whirls around and blocks the swing of a giant sword–a scimitar. It is thinner and longer than Xie Lian’s own, but wielded with the same amount of brash force.

Xie Lian peers up into the eyes of Crimson Rain.

“We meet again, dear Prince,” the pirate captain purrs, leaning forward to put more pressure on the push of his sword. Xie Lian scoffs, purposefully letting his sword be pushed to the side so he can bolt under Crimson Rain’s arm.

“I must say, it’s quite rude to come uninvited,” Xie Lian says with distaste. He maintains a sideway stance, sword held high as the pirate slowly turns around. The vicious look in Crimson Rain’s left eye sends sparks of electricity down Xie Lian’s spine

“I’m afraid if I were to wait for an invitation, I’d never meet the acquaintance of the prince or his sword again,” Crimson Rain retorts, having the ever-so-sharp tongue. He matches the Prince of Xianle’s posture, standing a good ten centimeters taller than Xie Lian.

This time, it is Xie Lian who makes the first move to attack, aiming his sword in a series of precise jabs to penetrate Crimson Rain’s defenses. The pirate, however, intercepts every one of Xie Lian’s advancements. When their swords collide in a locked battle of strength, Xie Lian glares up at Crimson Rain, spitting out, “I’d expect nothing less from a pirate.”

The aforementioned pirate merely chuckles at that, tilting his head down so their foreheads almost touch.

“I am humbled the prince keeps this lowly pirate in his thoughts,” he says. Both of them abruptly pull back, now aware of the onslaught of shouting from guards and pirates observing their duel from the side while still engaged in their own battles.

“Don’t lose to a filthy royal, Captain!”

“Your Highness, be careful!”

“Finish him, Captain Chengzhu!”

“Protect the prince at all costs!”

Xie Lian breathes heavily, never taking his eyes off of Crimson Rain. The pirate playfully twirls his swords adorned with blood-red jewels, clicking his tongue as if to entice the prince. When Crimson Rain dips down into a lunge, preparing to pounce, Xie Lian steels himself for another barrage of strikes.

This is what he has been training for his whole life.

Ivory and scarlet slam and jam against each other like a fast-paced sequence, a choreographed dance of death that becomes more thrilling the longer it goes on. They are unnervingly matched, predicting their opponent’s next moves with an accuracy that only comes with having dueled on multiple occasions before.

Xie Lian manages to land a well-timed punch on the side of Crimson Rain’s ribs as the pirate spins around to dodge his sword. When the pirate grunts in pain, Xie Lian has time to retreat to the next level; Crimson Rain automatically follows, like a game of tag, of cat and mouse, a predator intent to catch and devour its prey.

“You can’t run from me forever, Your Highness,” Crimson Rain taunts, using one of the ropes to follow Xie Lian to the area where the wheel is, absent of its navigator.

“Perhaps you are saying that because you cannot keep up?” Xie Lian challenges with a raised brow.

This comment renders the pirate captain suspiciously silent, a newfound glint appearing in his narrowed eye. As Xie Lian knocks away the foot Crimson Rain attempts to roundhouse kick into his side, the pirate’s mouth forms an entertained snarl, tongue peeking out to lick across his front teeth.

It’s the most animalistic expression the prince has seen on Crimson Rain’s face, and for a split second, Xie Lian’s stomach drops in fear.

He just pierced the beast.

A drop of water hits the tip of Xie Lian’s nose. He briefly registers that it has started raining. Sinister storm clouds gather in the pink-and-orange-streaked sky, and Crimson Rain’s gaze looks more menacing than ever.  

“Prince Xianle,” Crimson Rain murmurs, walking forward unhurriedly, the heel of his boots clicking loudly against the deck. “Allow me to properly demonstrate a pirate’s stamina.”

Xie Lian can barely lift his sword in time to block Crimson Rain’s next blow, bursting with even more power than previous attacks. It’s so powerful that it sends Xie Lian back a few steps. Not even a second later, another blow comes in a spot that Xie Lian was not expecting, right next to his lower hip. The prince stumbles to his knee after blocking.

The following succession of unmerciful swings perfectly showcases the pirate captain’s scimitar’s impressive length. After the fifth drive that swipes just below Xie Lian’s chin, the prince tumbles back down the stairs that lead from the wheel area to the main deck.

Tiny puddles soak the deck, too slippery for Xie Lian to find a grip with his heel to stand up.

The next stroke smacks his sword out of his hand, disarming Xie Lian from the conquest of the pirate captain. Crimson Rain smiles down in triumph at the prince sprawled on the deck floor. His scimitar flicks forward faster than Xie Lian can comprehend, the rain further obscuring his vision.

“Ah, what do we have here?” Crimson Rain questions, lifting his wrist slightly so the tip of his sword tugs on the inside of the object it’s caught on. Despite wanting to yell it is none of the pirate’s business, Xie Lian bites his lip, choosing not to answer. This does not deter his opponent, who chuckles lowly while eyeing Xie Lian’s neck.

A silver ring, connected to a simple chain, dangles helplessly off the tip of Crimson Rain’s scimitar.

《III》

[trifle-of-doom]

The Hawk X Demetri Manifesto

Okay, here is the thing. Despite being well past my teens, there's a particular ship of Cobra Kai that has drawn my attention, this ship being Hawk/Eli x Demetri. When I first watched the show, I was actually more invested in the adult characters storylines than the teens. I immediately rooted for Johnny and Carmen, and I was always hoping for more interactions between them. But then I saw episode 2x05, in which the atmosphere between the Binary Brothers becomes way more dense, and that's when I started to see some potential for them. Not because I'm a deranged person who fosters abusive relationships, but because I immediately caught the hurt/comfort dynamic of the duo, which is something that works really well when it comes to fictional relationships. However, it wasn't until 3x10 that I said, "Ok, that's official, I need to see more of these two! I totally support them!" And I was quite surprised to find a fairly large amount of people who are very committed to this pairing, to the point it's caught the attention of the screenwriters/producers as well. Honestly, I don't know if the showrunners will ever have the guts to make them an official couple, and chances are their supporters will have to keep reading between the lines of their bromance, but in any case, here is my take on why Hawk/Eli x Demetri is an option worth to be considered.

#1 - The Bromance

If there's something that many years of navigating the Internet taught me, is that the main driving factor for fan-made ships is the presence of either a solid relationship based on mutual brotherly love or a bitter rivalry that may or may not flow into hate/obsession. If you consider anime fandoms, there are thousand examples that fit into either of these categories: Yugi and Jonouchi from the Yu-Gi-Oh series (yes, that's how old I am), Yugi and Kaiba from Yu-Gi-Oh, Sakuragi and Rukawa from Slam Dunk, Light and L from Death Note, etc. And our Hawk and Demetri fit into both categories. When we first see them, they are the stereotypical nerdy friends (possibly childhood friends?) sitting at the losers' table, who have no one else but each other. When Eli is at his most sensitive and fragile, you can tell he feels comfortable being with Demetri by the genuine smile he has on his face as Demetri is joking with Miguel at the canteen table. Through his sarcasm, the mouthy kid acts as a catalyst to deviate the attention from Eli, speaking for him, reprimanding Johnny when he makes fun of his lip and trying to make him feel safe. Besides, you can see a certain degree of frustration in Demetri when Kyler and his gang are harassing Eli, and he's unable to do anything to defend him. And they even have a jingle for their friendship with a robot dance, I mean, how cute is that? But of course, a solid friendship between two helpless nerdy guys is not enough to spark a ship to be rooting for. In order for the magic to happen, another key ingredient is needed, i.e. a little bit of angst. Which brings us straight to the next point.

#2 - The Angst (aka the Hurt/Comfort Dynamic)

Even though I never liked the Twilight saga or any similar urban fantasy young adult works, I can easily see where the appeal comes from; the attraction to a charming, dangerous person who could either protect you from any harm or crush you like grape. Although with different franchises, I wasn't immune to the bad boy trope either (Yes, I'm looking at you, my teenage self drooling over Grimmjow from Bleach). If we can appreciate the genuine, brotherly friendship between nerdy Eli and Demetri, the shift that Eli makes as he transitions into Hawk and becomes more aggressive and dominant gives their relationship a totally different flavor. Attrition sparks a certain tension that, in the viewer's eyes, could either flow into a brawl or into passion.

During the mall fight, Demetri comes to the realization that his former best friend is actually someone who can crush him like grape. We see Hawk intentionally harming him for the first time, and Demetri's heartbreaking expression as he drops the line: "You'd actually hurt me?" And if that line gave us a pang in our hearts when we first watched Season 2, imagine rewatching it now that we know what happens in Season 3. Demetri is chased down the mall, running for his life, and then he's locked in a grip, as his best friend menacingly advances towards him. Demetri appears as the damsel in distress, however his friend is not the one who will fight to protect him, but rather his tormentor.

During the party at Moon's, Demetri manages to briefly go through Hawk's mask and reach out to Eli, thanks to a casual conversation about Dr Who. But then the beer incident happens, and Demetri defends himself with the only weapon he has – his loudmouth. The situation is reversed, and for a brief moment, he gets to be the dominant one as he discloses all Eli's most intimate secrets. Demetri is now actively contributing to the Hurt/Comfort dynamic; he's no longer just a target, but he's doing his part to enlarge that gaping hole that has formed between them. And Hawk didn't take it well.

From this moment on, Demetri becomes a sort of obsession to Hawk, who hunts him down the school, teasing him and taunting him sadistically, like a serial killer from a horror movie, during the big fight. Of course, in real life, this would be completely insane, and the police/a social assistant/psychiatrist should be called, but in ShipLand, these situations are pure gold. Okay, we get it, Hawk wants to get revenge for the humiliation at the party, and he wants to crush that nerd part of himself he sees in Demetri, but he does it with such an intensity that it borders on ridiculous. It's like this is his twisted way to acknowledge Demetri's presence. Eventually, Hawk ends up smashed into the trophy case, and I confess I felt a little disappointed when Demetri broke that hug to give Hawk a roundhouse kick. I mean, it was a great comeback, but I was sincerely hoping for a "No hard feelings man, let's get outta here!" scenario.

Getting back to the sick and twisted way Hawk acknowledges Demetri's presence, he destroys his science project after he got jealous due to him being confident in his nerd self and laughing around with his ex girlfriend (whom the writers insist he still has a crush on). Speaking of Moon, I have a feeling she likes Hawk mostly based on his badass appearance. Remember when she goes "I like this (mohawk) and I love these (muscles), but I'm not dating a bully"?

Then the football match happens. Okay, let's break this down. Demetri trips Hawk and acts all sassy, and a fellow Cobra Kai is immediately ready to take him down, but Hawk stops him. "Fight smart, he says". Too bad that literally 5 seconds earlier he had shoved a kid to the ground just because his ex girlfriend (again, duuuh~) ignored him when he winked at her. And then, as he's trying to intercept the ball, BANG, Hawk hits Demetri, sending him to the ground, pretending it was an accident. So, what does this tell us? That Hawk has some serious anger management issues? Yeah sure, but also that he cares about fighting smart only as long as it serves as an excuse to leave Demetri for him, because he's his designated target. Again, this is all but romantic, and it doesn't necessarily have to be interpreted as him lusting after his friend, but it's undeniable that this dynamic offers a lot of ship fuel.

The arm breaking thing is just too painful to even analyze. We see a completely helpless Demetri begging for mercy to his ex best friend, who has made No Mercy his life motto. And that scream, oh that scream. All I wanted to see was Hawk realizing what he had done and throwing himself on his knees while begging for forgiveness. But I'm glad that at least we get to see he feels awful for what he's done, and I like to think that, as he got home, Eli cried out all the tears he had in his body thinking about poor Demetri at the hospital, with a swollen broken arm, all because of him. Of all the situations, this is undoubtedly the most deranged and extreme, and if something like this happened in real life, the wrongdoer would deserve to be punished and would definitely need to be sent to therapy. But in ShipLand, this opens the road to many, many different scenarios, in which the bully understands his mistakes and shifts back to the good side, or the two share a tender moment after they reconcile, or the traumatized character has to to learn to trust the other one again, or the bully becomes overprotective of his former victim, etc.

#3 - A Rewarding Reconciliation

Finally, we come to the reconciliation, in which Hawk makes his heel-to-face turn. While we've seen him torn with doubt for an entire season about his sensei's teachings, his actions and the people he wants to surround himself with, the key factor that drives Hawk's redemption is the sight of his best friend being held down for him to beat. And with an epic stunt and his awesome KEEEH screech, Hawk jumps to the rescue of his friend. Like many of us, Demetri thought this was still part of the "Only I Can Torment Him" dynamic I discussed earlier, as he steps backwards a little concerned, but then he understands that action was actually meant to save him, and the two begin to fight side by side, in sync, watching each other's back. You can see Demetri's eyes sparkling at the thought of having his friend back.

Also, not only Demetri stands up to alpha bitch Tory in defense of Eli, but he also speaks for his friend when he's faltering, just like he used to. So kudos for Demetri.

#4 - The Red Oni, Blue Oni Dynamic

Binary Brothers are two sides of the same coin and complete each other with opposite character traits, visually expressed by the color red and the color blue. Being the color red typically associated with violence, rage, passion and irrationality, as opposed to blue, which is associated with calmness, melancholy and rationality, red is clearly the dominant color. Again, this opens many interesting scenarios for shippers.

#5 - Body Language

Besides the situations I described above, which may or may not be read from a romantic/attraction standpoint, there are also a collection of small gestures I noticed when rewatching the series with a more attentive look on their relationship.

- Demetri's heart-broken expression when Eli shamefully covers his lip during the anti-bullying announcement.

- The smile Demetri gives when Hawk responds "Hell yeah!" after Aisha proposes to crash Yasmin's party, implying he's learning to embrace this new wild side of his best friend

- The astonished look with which Demetri watches Hawk at the tournament and the way he's pissed no one knows his real name.

- How deeply hurt Demetri is when Hawk belittles him by saying: "Five against three. More like two and a half." He even tries to reply, but he's caught so off guard that words die in his throat.

- How Demetri takes a step towards Hawk during the mall fight, before Sam makes him back off, and how sadly he looks at Hawk's nearly unconscious body after Robby defeated him.

- How Demetri smiles and nods when he briefly connects with Eli at Moon's party, despite the mall incident.

- How Hawk watches Demetri juggle with the cleaning product from behind his bike helmet (how did he stuff the mohawk in there by the way)?

- Hawk's psychotic/sadistic faces when he smells Demetri's blood, and how he likes to hunt him down like he's his prey.

- Hawk's secret impulse to comfort Demetri after the arm breaking (I hope you get nightmares of Demetri's howl of pain for the rest of your life, Hawk).

- The way Hawk twitches his upper lip when he sees his friend Demetri in danger.

- How Hawk and Demetri are so absorbed in their new-found friendship, that they're caught off guard, and Demetri swings Hawk to allow him to deliver a kick using their handshake as a lever. And how they keep fighting together, shaking each other's hands even when they're out of focus and the attention is on Miguel vs. Kyler.

- How they're standing so close at Miyagi Do, in comparison with the other Red/Blue partners.

In conclusion, this kind of relationships are engaging and entertaining to watch, and they make us wish the best for the characters. They make us hope that, in the end, as Miguel puts it, love really conquers all (and what is friendship if not a form of love?), despite all the hurt they did to each other.

So this is it. I hope you enjoyed my Ted Talk. Feel free to share it with whomever you want, especially if you need some solid reasons why this ship has got some good potential.

And remember: the ship is in the eye of the beholder.

F.