#important to consider So You Have To Die Again looks just for kicks. let's hear it for chaps; truly more of a pussy out look

[unproduciblesmackdown]

more bloodsong whimsy for the joie de vivre

[holylulusworld]

Gap Filler (3)

Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of calling someone daddy (nothing happens)

A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.

Gap Filler (2)

“Baby? Y/N? Please open the door. The cactus is an aggressive beast. It tries to poke holes into my chest. The orchid, well, it won’t make it if it stays with me. You know I’m not good with soft things.”

Walter listens closely, hoping you’ll open the door and let him explain things to you.

“Go away,” you growl on the other side of the door. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”

He sighs deeply. “Y/N, I know I fucked up big time, but please believe me, I love you. Rachel doesn’t mean anything to me. I lied to hurt you.” He sniffs. “I know it was stupid and selfish of me. It’s just… a woman left me for a job before.”

“Do not use your broken heart crap to excuse that you broke my heart!” You kick the door and curse his name. “Now get off my lawn.”

Walter chuckles. “Uh—your doormat is green, but I don’t think it counts as a lawn.” He comments as you throw insults at him. “Please open the door,” Walter whispers now. “Your neighbor is about to call the cops.”

“You’re a cop too,” you bite back. “Get your badge out and tell them to get fucked! "Annoying assholes!”

“Baby, open the door,” he murmurs your name, pleading with you to let him in. “Do not make me raise my voice.”

You snort. “As if you’d dare to raise your voice, Marshall. I’d love to see you try, fucker!”

“Stop swearing so much in front of our baby!” He tuts. “I can still kick the door open.”

“I don’t think so,” you snort. “It’s a reinforced door. Good luck breaking your back, old man!”

“Old man?” Walter hiccups. “Last time, you called me daddy because of the gray in my beard.”

“Marshall!” You rip the door open to size Walter up. “What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’d never call you that.” Wrinkling your nose, you huff. “That’s just ewww…”

He smirks as you realize your mistake. “Hah, it worked.” Before you can close the door, he stands in the door frame, keeping you from shutting the door again. “Y/N, please talk to me. I won’t go away, and it’s your fault if the poor plants die.”

You glance at the cactus pressed to his chest and the poor orchid he’s about to strangle. “Fine, give me the plants, but you can go home.”

Snatching the orchid out of his hands, you keep an eye on Walter.

“Baby, please let’s talk. I don’t want to go home knowing I lost you forever only because I was a fool,” he murmurs your pet name and gives you puppy dog eyes.

“No, this won’t work on me any longer. You hurt me to feel better.” You angrily wipe your eyes. “You told me you want to be with Rachel because you knew this is my worst fear coming true. How could I ever trust you again, or believe that you love me, Walter?

Walter drops his head and nods. “I used your fear against you. This is unforgivable.” He feels like the worst person ever as you look at him with teary eyes. “I let my hurt pride and feelings get the best out of me.”

“That’s no excuse for abandoning and hurting me. I admitted years ago that I’m scared of losing you to Rachel if she ever comes back. And you,” you growl at him, “used it against me.”

He nods slowly. “I knew the moment your luck was more important to me than mine that I was in love with you. When I got to know that they offered a better position to you, my worst fear came true. I couldn’t bear hearing you say that you will leave me.”

“Even if I’d have considered taking the position—” you sniffle. “Do you honestly believe I would have left you? I would have asked you to come with me, if possible. If not, I’d declined their offer.”

Walter stares at you, eyes filled with unshed tears. You have never seen him cry before. Not in all the years you know him.

“Fine, close the door and give me that cactus before you kill it for real…”

Tags in reblog.

[1moreff-creator]

FF, considering that the end of Chapter 2 seems to be setting up the already prevalent theme of Fate and Choice to take centre stage in Chapter 3 (like how the theme of Trust was the focus of CH1, and the theme of Change was the focus of CH2), I wonder Do you have any predictions for Chapter 3? Where you think most of the characters will go from here, who you think might be the next to kick the bucket, and how you think it will tie into Teruko's own story (the next step of which, I predict, will be her making a decision on whether she's going to allow herself to make friendships with the rest of the cast even with the fear that they will abandon or die on her always in the back of her mind, or to let her fears control her and make her isolate herself further out of fear that she will result in them getting hurt because of her fated bad luck. But I'd also love to hear your thoughts on that :D)

Hey! Predictions, huh? Well, I'm not the best when it comes to guesswork, so this isn't going to be, like, my deepest post or anything, but it's still interesting to think about!

Spoilers for DRDT CH2

So now that we've made it past Read More: Yeah I have no idea.

You see, there's literally infinite ways for the story to progress past this point, and there comes a point where "what I think will happen" would be completely indistinguishable from "how I would write the rest of the story." And while that in itself is interesting to explore, I'm not the dev, so I'll save both your and my time by avoiding any completely unfounded predictions. That means that the fate of most characters, the arcs they will go through, the themes which will be explored, among many other things, are things that I have almost no genuine strong predictions, at least in regards to CH4 and beyond.

In terms of CH3, though, I do agree that the theme of fate is the most likely to be the centerpiece, though like with CH2 and CH1 there will probably be a whole lot of themes that get explored. Not to mention that what someone considers the "main theme" of a chapter is highly subjective; I'd argue the themes of belief ("all that glitters is not gold") and morality ("a good person") are just as important to CH2 as the theme of change. I can't tell which themes will actually be explored, though, because again, no idea where the story could go.

To give some ideas, though, some themes that are already on the table apart from fate and trust and change are memory (Elliot, Rose's photographic memory, Whit forgetting her mom is dead for a moment when Rose says it, etc), family (Elliot again, Rose's family, J's mom, Levi's situation, the hypothetical Diana Chiem, Teruko's brother, Whit's mom again, why does half this cast has family issues, etc), idolization (David->Xander, Hu->Nico, Whit->His mom ("We tend to idolize the dead" in his quote), everyone->Mai (once we actually start talking about her), etc), past and future (Xander & Min (check pinned comments in Bonus Episodes), Hu and Veronika moving on from their past, Charles forgetting his, Rose feeling hopeless in the future due to mistakes in her past, Levi not caring about his past, Arturo not being able to fully move on from his past, etc), and everything else under the Sun. You see why making predictions is hard? There's too much shit going on, the writing's just too good.

What I can theorize on a bit more comfortably is who's gonna die in CH3.

It's Charles.

Honestly I don't even feel comfortable predicting a double murder in CH3; other than "it's a trope," there's no reason for me to believe it atm. And "it's a trope" isn't evidence.

With Charles, though, we do have "Charles pronounced dead at 3" from the prologue, and given Whit's track record, yeah it's curtains for chemist boy. I know some people think Charles dying is "too obvious" because of this line, but it only feels obvious to freaks like me who spend way too much time looking at these guys and who've rewatched the series several times. In particular, I believe he'll be poisoned by strychnine, given it was omitted from the custom weapons list, meaning only him and Teruko know about it, which could lead to interesting developments in the trial. This also means that the Elliot mystery would be explored in more depth in CH3, which could also be inferred from Yoidore Shirazu... existing already.

Other things which will likely get brought up are Whit's secret, Teruko's secret (then again, I have zero fucking clue what David's gonna do next), Hu's treatment of Nico, Hu and Vero's secrets, Veronika's reactions to Levi almost dying and Ace's execution, the Nico-Rose situation, Arturo (just, like, in general), etc. I feel like J's family and Eden's guilty feelings about Arei and Min might still have to wait, though it could come up. Look these chapters are long we could genuinely cover all of that and still bring up new threads for CH4 to explore.

As for future killer predictions... again, zero clue. But, you know that theory/observation that's been going around about the objects that show up at the end of CH1 and CH2 and Mai? That Mai has a jacket kinda sorta like Min and gloves like Ace?

Although this is an insane metric and I fully expect it to go wrong probably as soon as CH3, it is practically the only semi-theory we have that could point to future culprits. And since I'm an evidence-based theorist at heart, here's who I believe the killers might be based on the only (and craziest) metric we have. Feel free to ignore the Hail Mary guesses, I have no reasoning for them beyond Vibes.

Arturo - Ribbon (Hail Mary guess - CH4 killer)

Hu: Flowers (Note: Her secret quote plays into why I believe she may be a killer. I fully expect to be wrong on her particularly, and even if she is a killer, I expect her to kill on accident, which is sort of possible with strychnine. I doubt Hu would kill someone on purpose). Hail Mary guess - CH3 killer, no double murder?

Veronika: Hair tie. Hail Mary guess - CH5 killer, double murder?

It could also be Vero's shoes btw, they look similar enough to Mai's.

Rose's stockings are actually also similar to Mai's, but I can't imagine the object for her being stockings instead of, like, her hat or apron.

In fact, that's sort of a counterargument to this entire theory. Even if Vero or Hu are killers, I would expect their objects to be the triangle earring and the butterfly hair accessory respectively. In fact, I see Vero in particular as a victim more than a killer, so that should tell you how confident I am in these things.

Keeping in mind my survivor predictions (Teruko - J - Whit - Levi - Rose), which haven't really changed other than me now considering Levi a more likely survivor than Rose, that would leave the victims as Charles (genuine prediction: CH3), Eden (Hail Mary - CH5), David (Hail Mary - CH5 or CH4), and Nico (Hail Mary - CH4 or CH3). Again, the Hail Marys are purely vibes only and have no attached reasoning.

Finally, for mastermind, there's three people in particular that I find genuine contenders for MM spot, but that will have to wait for a separate, more in-depth post, since this thing does actually have evidence attached.

I hope that was enough to satisfy you! Thanks for the ask, it was fun to think about!

[queen-mihai]

Ok I'm developing a theory.

Let me say this first: I don't care if it's true or not. I think it's fun and I'm going to choose to believe it's true even if the writers literally come out and say it's not. It's that good.

Valerie is V

In the movie "V for Vendetta", V is explicitly never identified. We obviously see that he is a man. He has heightened basic kinesthesia, awareness, strength, and reflexes. He's got a deep voice, is reasonably tall, and thin.

Those are all things we know.

He never takes off the mask in any way we can see. If the hair is a wig, it's DAMN solid on his head, and he's got severe burns over so much of his body that he no longer has eyes.

"He looked at me, but not with eyes, there were no eyes"

Now for some evidence:

V is very obviously a thespian. Sure, we could assume the "man" was one as well, but we actually have backstory behind Valerie that would perfectly set her up with the type of knowledge V seems to have in the arts. Especially when she says "I'd always known what I wanted to do with my life"

When Valerie is taken, she already has the same look on her face as Evey has when she said "I'd rather die behind the chemical sheds"

V is very in tune with emotions. Obviously men can be in tune with their emotions. But Hollywood generally plays to a low common denominator. Why include this personality detail when all he needs to do is kick butt? If we are doing stereotypes 👇 this scene plays fairly heavily against the "male" stereotype when V perfectly times the moment where it will be okay to reach for Evey, let alone knowing when it's okay to touch her

Valerie falls in love fast. That's practically a personality trait we're shown in the story. With Sarah "it was her wrists". With Ruth, "the first time we kissed, I knew I never wanted to kiss any lips but hers again. This matters because when V says "I fell in love with you Evie" He mentions that he had thought of nothing but revenge until he saw her. That sounds an awful lot like something Valerie would do IMO

"This is the most important moment of your life, commit to it" spoken like someone who has lived that *exact* experience to the letter. You might think if he was a man when this happened to him, his experience might have looked *a little* different. If it was Valerie, though, it would make sense that she knows exactly when everything is falling into place because that's when it happened for her.

The anger she had over Ruth being taken fits V's actions far more closely than anything we get from our mystery man. Yes, he was tortured, but so was everyone else.

Writers love these kind of Easter eggs. Come on, room V, Valerie, V,...geezus "V" could have been the nickname she got from Ruth when they were together.

"I fell in love with you Evey. Like I never thought I could anymore" fits SO much better if Valerie just didn't know she could love again after Ruth was gone. That hits SO much harder if she's a woman from whom love was taken away and who went on a murderous revenge spree.

This was written by the Wachowski sisters. They would know what transitioning does to a person. If the "virus" was some sort of super-soldier serum, we could assume that some part of that serum might have included heavy doses of testosterone, which would have deepened her voice, even down to the level we hear in the movie.

If V was forcefully transitioned, it would stand to reason he'd want to hide his face (her face?) And would say things like "There is a face behind this mask, but it is not me"

Valerie might well have known how to create masks and such

The damn Scarlett Carson roses! They make SO MUCH more sense when you consider Valerie would have already known how to take care of them before she got taken, (and maybe even knew where to find a stash of seeds?) rather than some guy randomly found out about them and then learned how to keep them

If she indeed got cast for major motion pictures, and gotten paid well for them, that might explain the VAST resources V has at his disposal in order to pull off his schemes

👇 This right here👇

Soooo many similarities

"I had only told them the truth"

"I told you, only truth"

There's so many scenes that VERY MUCH make V look feminine

Ugh, there's so much more

There's SO MUCH MORE

But I'm dead tired right now and I want to post this now while I'm still excited about it and I'll have to write an update about it later if people want to hear more.

Heck... one very personal but deeply powerful concept about this movie for me is that I have shaped some parts of my personality around V's character. His intelligence. His ability to be both a monster and a face of kindness, his love for the arts and passion in keeping up his skills. I was surprised as heck when I found out his favorite movie is "The Count of Monte Cristo" because before I found "V for Vendetta", that was already MY favorite movie (the 2002 version though)

I don't see there being any fewer similarities after transitioning and I found this movie LONG before I thought any part of me was feminine

If MatPat ends up stealing this idea for a video, my name on here (Ce'irth) is pronounced like "surf"

OK see you later

[scaraberri]

Celestial Symphony

[01: UNEXPECTED VISITOR]

Scaramouche x fem!reader

word count: 2k~3k

Note: so sorry this is soo late i wanted to post this at Tuesday but I really did choose the worst time to write this considering exams are coming up, but I will try to write through the week since I really did enjoy writing this so I hope you enjoy.

*how did I get here...* Those words repeated in your head while you mindlessly lay on top of a fancy bed, staring at the ceiling.

It had been exactly two weeks since that morning, it was meant to be a normal day no one expected Ayato to visit.

~~ "Mom what's going on-"

You stopped at the doorway behind your mother. You were expecting to see your mother yelling at yet a other door to door seller, What you didn't expect was to see the head of the Kamisato house getting a scolding by you mother.

"Leave!"

"Please calm down ma'am I just want to talk to-"

"Did you not hear what I said, Leave Now!"

you held your mother's hand as an attempt to make her stop only for her to turn on her heel and glare at you.

"(n/n) Back to your room!"

"Mom. What if its something important..." "Let's just hear him out ,ok"

She stares at you before finally letting out long sigh.

"...fine"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Your mother sets the brewed tea on the table, a little harshly. She finally sits down and starts the conversation.

"So. What was Soo important that you the head of the kamisato house had personally come see a poor commoner like me?"

"Actually I'm not here to talk you, I'm here to talk to [Name]""It's...Regarding her father"

"What? Did that old bastard finally die?"

"Mom!"

Ayato quietly sighs "No but the situation isn't any better...."

"The Duke's Son recently...Passed and the duchess is too weak to carry another baby...so"

"SO?"

"The Duke wants to have [Name] as his heir"

It was silence from there. No matter how much your mother protested it wouldn't matter because Ayato was only there to deliver the message. Even if you didn't want to, You didn't have a choice , the decision was already made.

. .. …

So here we are at the present. The sound of the door opening break's you out of your train of thoughts. A maid entered your room, She had silver hair and green eyes, You can't help but feel like you saw her before.

"Good evening my lady. My name is Noelle, I'll be your personal maid from today onwards "

"Noelle" "Wait haven't I heard that name before?"

"Aren't you the helper maid from the knights everyone talk about"

"Ah- Yes"

. .. …

'Well this is awkward'

"oh you must get tired standing there, come sit." You patted the spot beside you, hoping to start at least a small conversation

"Is it...really alright"

"Of course"

You and Noelle start to converse, although she was a bit shy at first, she soon got use to talking to you(considering your close at age)

"So the name 'helper maid' was just some little nickname I earned"

"That Soo cute" "But its an honorable name, Not many people come to help the commoners"

"Don't say that, I myself am a commoner so it feels like a duty of mine to help them."

"Say my lady may I ask you a question"

"(n/n) is fine, but sure"

"I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But your a commoner too so how did you end here"

"That's...Well" You stutter not knowing if its OK to tell someone you just met. Then again, finally telling someone would be nice, especially now that it looks like you'll be stuck here for the rest of your life. Besides Noelle seems like a good person.

It was a difficult life since birth. You were born into the dutchy 'as an accident'. Your mother a maid, a commoner, while your father a Duke, a nobleman. You were nothing but an illegitimate child. Something that should stay in the dark. Since your birth your mother was shamed for what she had done. But when the duchess found out You and your mother were kicked out.

"Now that the Duke's heir is....um...gone they want me to be his heir"

"That's...wow. This is the first time I've heard of this"

"Of course, they took care of everything I needed until I was twelve, it was a deal to keep our mouths shut"

"Oh so I assume the Duke son didn't like you"

"Quite the opposite, he some how found out and kept visiting, I guess he was like an older brother to me. It was also because of him that I made friend with a few noble kids"

"Seems you two were close"

"Yeah he would visit us daily and bring gifts with him at least until.."

"Until?"

"Until his mother found out, She didn't like me from the beginning"

"Do you miss him?"

"Honestly I don't know what i feel"

"Well no matter what you feel its in the past so from now on you can think of me as your friend, of course if you want to my lady"

"I'd love that" . .. … It had been a few months since you moved into the manor. Life is surprisingly easy. You and your 'Step' mother are still at odds, You were given an etiquette teacher. Miss Eula (who was chosen specifically decided by the duchess)

Today was suppose to go something like this. You would wake up, get dressed and leave for breakfast after that you'll be joining Ms. Eula for various etiquette lessons, after that we'll you aren't to sure. Noelle would handle your schedules, so as far as you know any day could be a surprise.

You were woken up by the sound of the door opening and footsteps, you immediately knew who it was.

"Good morning my lady"

"Good morning Noelle" you say through a yawn "Did you get my schedule"

"Yes, first is breakfast and then etiquette lesson with lady Eula, and then...you have a request to visit the Royal garden"

… "huh"

"An invitation to visit the Royal garden"

"Can I... decline"

"You can't my lady"

"Gosh why call it a request if you can't even decline" you mumble." you'll come with me right Noelle"

"Of course its my job my lady, I'm sure lady Eula will be there too considering she's from the Lawrence clan"

"Oh thank god and can you stop calling me my lady, I have you permission to call me by my nickname".

"Sure (n/n) but only when we're alone, the head maid would kill me if she catches me calling you that"

"Ok, now let's get this day over with"

"Already looking forward to bedtime"

"Always!"

You head down for breakfast, through the grand halls filled with paintings and vases, Although it was gorgeous it always brought you anxiousness, by the time you reach the dining table your father the grand duke and your step mother the duchess are already there. You silently sit at your seat (right across from the duchess).

Breakfast was always awkward, but you would have it no other way.  You would much rather stay quiet than actually try and talk to these two. Especially with the fact that the duchess was staring daggers into your skull. Either way you finish your break fast and leave for your etiquette classes.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

You walk through the flower fields and towards a silver pavilion stationed at the center. This is were your etiquette classes take place.

When the duke raised the idea of etiquette classes, the duchess immediately took the opportunity to introduce Lady Eula as a potential mentor for you. You knew that this was just a way for her to make your life a living hell. Lady Eula was one of the duchesses closet friends, she constantly bad mouthed you so generally they had a bad image of you. But what she didn't expect was for the two of you to form a friendship. It irritated her.

you sit down on the little bench placed in the pavilion while you wait for your teacher.

you remember the first day that you had to meet Lady Eula, you were scared to your core. You had begged Noelle to come with you even though it wasn't necessary, You were just scared of her considering you've heard of her strict behavior. But surprisingly she was quite an interesting character, she was extremely sweet but maybe its her tone that makes people think she was crazy.

The sudden clash of a claymore hitting the stone ground breaks you from your train of thoughts. but your fear is short lived when you see the blue haired female you've been waiting for.

''Can you ever enter like a normal person"

"What do you mean, I do enter like any sane person you just don't understand how noble people enter"

"OH! so I suppose that any sane person jumps from the top of the pavilion charging they're weapon towards the floor only to make the most infuriating sound that the bystander has ever hear!?"

"'infuriating'...good one"

"thank you I've been practicing"

The blue haired woman looks around before asking "Is Noelle not attending"

"All the servants were summoned by the head maid, something about a visitor"

"Well be prepared, I'll be teaching you about status today"

"a change in topic's, is this about that invitation"

"precisely, Look as much as I am impressed with the progress you've made you still lack a lot"

"and I don't want a student of mine to just waltz in there and make a fool of themselves"

"thank you Eula"

"No need to thank me, after all I am your mentor, also what did I tell you about calling me by my name, if you insist on calling me Eula at least call me Miss Eula but don't call me Madam Eula because that would make me sound old"

"Yes miss Eula"

.

..

…

"wait wait WAIT, this is duchess gunhilder right"

you've been memorizing the faces of noble's that probably will never meet with Eula. although its not necessary Eula says its best if something were to happen

Eula sigh's "no no that's her daughter jean"

All the different names and titles were making your head spin, It was enough to make someone have a concussion.

"who even names they're kid jean" that earned you hard smack in the head with a book.

"How in archons name have you survived this long with no manners" Eula say's pinching the bridge of her nose. The fact that you've been doing this for hours, failing again and again was so tiering it even made Eula lose all class.

you let out a dramatic gasp as you fought back "I HAVE MANNERS"

Eula with a dead pan face says "sure"

"so far you've only been able memorize a few names, impressive for that gold fish brain of yours , but I suppose its good enough, besides you'll be with me half the time"

"well see you later, don't be late"

"Yes miss Eula"

you sit there processing all the information that you have just heard while you watch Eula pick up her claymore dash off. you look up at the sky noticing how you started when the sky bright and now it was painted in orange to a dark blue.

you slowly pick yourself up as you drag yourself back to the manor. your lucky great that there's still a few hours left until you have to visit the royal gardens, so you can get a few hours of good sleep.

when you reach your room you see Noelle making your bed. "oh my lady your back"

"Hi Noelle" you say in a sleepy tone.

"I've already prepared a bath for you My lad- I mean (n/n)"

"Thank you Noelle your the best"

"my pleasure"

.

..

…

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"My lady! my lady! wake up!"

"uhh..is it time already"

"Almost, well you told me to wake you up 30 minutes earlier"

"Right, I guess no- I suppose we should get ready"

Noelle chuckles" were you practicing in your sleep (n/n)"

"you can never be too prepared"

"Alright my lady lets get you ready"

.

..

...

You walk into the dressing room as Noelle helps you put on the chosen dress.

"say I heard this dress was a gift"

"a gift? for who?"

"for you, my lady"

"who on earth would gift me a dress"

"apparently it was close friend of the dukes, but he seemed closer to your age"

"was he the visitor"

"yes, I couldn't hear the conversation myself but a few of the maid's serving them said he was quite handsome"

"I still don't get it why someone would gift me a dress"

"perhaps a childhood friend?"

"I don't remember any "

"well you may not remember but he certainty does"

by now Noelle was helping you tie a few ribbons on the dress, it was a pretty dress you yourself have to admit, it was covered with fabric roses and pearls you couldn't quite explain it, but it looked something like this.

Noelle finishes tying the ribbon, she stands up and takes a step back. she covers her mouth as he lets out what you make out to be a squeal.

"is everything ok?"

"everything's fine, it's just you- your just so gorgeous"

indeed you were, who ever bought you this dress had taken and lot of thought and time. it perfectly fit with your complexion. if anyone were to even glance at you they would have mistaken you for an angel. (yes I'm complementing you)

"I still don't know who would gift me a dress"

"well maybe you'll see them tonight, i mean there are going to be a handful of noble's there"

"maybe your right"

"you know you really do look pretty in this dress, I'm sure plenty of men will fall in love with you"

"let's hope not, bedside's you sound really excited "

"I cant exactly explain the feeling, but what I do know is that its a good feeling"

Noelle finishes braiding and tying you hair "alright all done, don't you think you look beautiful"

you looked at your reflection in the mirror, she's right you really are beautiful (yes I'm complimenting you again). but you were too busy thinking who would even think of sending you it in the first place.

.

..

...

You gaze outside the window, putting your full attention to the nicely decorated streets, you wonder if they have so much money to make fancy streetlights then don't they have enough to make the commoners life easier. It's not like the commoners have a hard life, you would think that nobles would have the time of their lives, while commoners had to do anything to survive but I was quite the opposite people at the bottom of the chain actually look out for one another, while the noble seems to hate everyone and everything that surrounds them, of course its not true for everybody.

the carriage take a halt, which indicates that you've reached your destination. Noelle leaves the carriage and help you get off as well. You enter the royal gardens, with Noelle following behind you.

"boy it sure is crowded in here" you whisper

"it is, but maybe its best if you don't talk like that my lady" she whispers back.

you scan through the large crowd, searching for Eula. When you do find you immediately rush to her side.

"Your quite early"

"did you think I would late"

she rolled her eye's as she started a conversation with you, you would think it would be hard considering you have to be on your best behavior, but since Eula was there you felt much more at ease.

"Lady Eula"

"Yes"

"Why do I feel like this whole party was just a set up for me"

"what do you mean?"

"well first it was an invitation, then there was some guest, then i was sent this dress, and now"

"now?"

"I feel like someone's staring at me"

"you aren't the only one you thinks that, I found it uncanny how an invitation was sent right after your title was made public. although it could be nothing we cant exactly be certain."

"its probably nothing, maybe I'm just being paranoid"

"perhaps, care to join me on a stroll through the garden" Eula extends her hand

"Gladly, can Noelle come to?"

"of course"

you take Eula's hand as you three walk deeper into the garden, but you weren't wrong about someone staring at you, there were indeed a pair of indigo eyes staring at every step you took

Main Masterlist

[221bshrlocked]

Fever in my Eyes

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 8.5K (yeesh)

Warnings: Smut and Angst, my two faves. Blindfold. Breeding Kink!!! Things are consensual from both sides but since this is a sex pollen fic, some of you might consider it as non/con so please proceed with caution.

Summary: Felucia was not an ideal planet to track a quarry on and you find yourself in a sticky situation when you lose sight of the Mandalorian for a moment. An unexpected standoff between Mando and the bounty leads to you escaping back to the Razor Crest, unaware of the pollen which seeped into your nostrils and past your skin. What will the bounty hunter do once he realizes what you’re asking of him? And more importantly, is it worth risking whatever relationship he has with you?

A/N: As always, I am shit with summaries. It’s a sex pollen fic yall. I apologize if my smut isn’t as good as it used to be, I am trying. Also, please please please let me know how I did in the comments. This is only my second ever Star Wars fic and I was very reluctant to post it but Pedro Pascal made me do it because I cannot stop thinking of the man so here it is. Seriously, tell me how I did and what I can do to better my writing. There will be more Din Djarin fics to come :) Enjoy. And this is not beta’d!

This was not an ideal situation, but it never was. At least not ever since you took the ‘glorified babysitter’ position offered so graciously to you months ago. A short snort made its way past your lips as you walked through the greenery and recalled how you came into caring for the child currently biting and playing with your necklace. You looked down and smiled at him, not bothering to stop him from chewing down on the colorful jewels because you knew for a fact that if Mando heard you criticizing him over something so trivial, he might scold him and make him pout. Maker, the little womp rat made it so hard to be angry with him, let alone attempt to teach him some proper manners. 

So busy playing with the Child, you didn’t notice when the bounty hunter suddenly came to a halt ahead of you. You walked right into his back and stumbled backwards, apologizing immediately when he turned around and tilted his visor to the side. You’ve grown to learn what each tild meant and at the moment, he was definitely a tad bit annoyed with you. 

“S-sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, you waited until he turned around before narrowing your eyes at the kid currently giggling at your mistake. It was amazing how often he did that, almost as if he knew he was purposely getting you in trouble for his own entertainment. 

“So you never actually told me why this bounty was so important,” your eyes searched your surroundings and marveled at the lush reaching all the way to the top of the strange trees, barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed before continuing to walk towards the edge of the forest. If there even was an edge to this jungle. Maker, this was such a weird planet, it smelled weird, it was too hot and too wet, and you sensed there was something strange with all the exotic plants beneath your feet.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly put the Child down and reached inside your satchel for a drink. As soon as the kid noticed the satchel, he waddled back to you and pulled on your cloak until you brought out his favorite blue biscuits. 

“All I’m saying is, this bounty is weird. Who hides all the way out here anyways? I mean I have never heard of this place-”

“You’ve said that about the last four quarries.” You didn’t expect him to respond and eyed him cautiously, looking between him and the kid who continued to eat his snacks and understood absolutely nothing of what you were saying. A shiver ran down your spine when you noticed the way he put the tracking fob back in his pocket before slowly reaching for the blaster pistol. Reflexes instantly kicking in, you hurried to the Child and snatched him off the ground, shushing his little coos and preparing for the worst case scenario which was always, somehow, what transpired.

Silence filled the humid air and you tried to read the bounty hunter’s body language, knowing very well he was not one to say anything unless it was perhaps a little too late for you. His visor dragged through the dried prints on the grass and before you knew it, he was taking off towards the edge of the purple and pink plants. As you followed him, you felt your throat dry much quicker than usual. Thinking it was just the extreme weather of Felucia, you decided it was best to slow down and wait until the Mandalorian caught the bounty before following his path. He’d even told you once to not follow him if you ever saw him running off because that usually meant he was close to the quarry and wouldn’t need your aid. It was a little insulting in the beginning but you were caught during a shoot-out one too many times and understood he was only trying to look out for you and the kid. 

But not even a full minute passed before you heard a sudden blast sound off from the trees above you and before you could figure out what was happening, a heavy weight landed on top of you, and you watched in horror as the kid flew out of your hand into a nearby puddle. 

Trying your hardest to grab the blaster on your hip, you cried out in pain when you felt talons digging into your arms and twist them back. You didn’t know what else to do, eyes scanning the trees in hopes of finding the Mandalorian rushing towards you. But when you realized he was nowhere around, you looked at the kid and prayed he was alright. When you saw his large eyes blinking a few times before struggling to sit up, you knew there was only one outcome. 

“Make a sound, and I will feast on your organs.” The stench of the creature filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly at the implications behind his words. Taking one last look at the kid, you took a deep breath and pushed off the ground as hard as you can.

“MANDO!” As soon as you screamed his name, you felt three talons break the skin of your shoulder blades and drag all the way down to your lower back. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks and hated how distressed the Child looked. Almost on queue, he was standing up and trying to waddle your way, refusing to listen to your little objections as you tried to tell him to run the opposite direction. 

Before you could dwell on the many different ways you were about to die, you heard a large blast sound through the forest, throwing the creature off of you against one of the trees with a loud cracking noise. You looked up just in time to see the familiar glint of beskar coming closer through the greenery and as you tried to stand up, you felt the same weight behind you again, twisting the talons into your hair and pulling you to your feet. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you felt the edge of the hunting knife against your throat. Eyes unable to focus on the figures in front of you, you blinked a few times and realized there were too many sensations hitting you. But the one seemingly outdoing all the others was the growing wet patch on your back and you soon felt sharp pain growing against your skin where the strange liquid rolled down your skin. You weren’t sure if it was blood or if it was drool from the thing behind you and a part of you didn’t care because what difference would it make. 

“Should have known you were the only crazy one to come here...come after me.” A slithering whisper made its way past your ears and your knees buckled as you started to feel faint. But then the creature held you up roughly and pressed the knife harder against your throat, warning you against falling to the ground.

“Your problem is with me T'doshok. Let her go.” You vaguely saw the Child walk towards his father, relief washing over you when you knew he was safe once more. At some point, you’ve come to care more for him than for yourself and you were never sure if it was because he was so precious or because of how important he was to the Mandalorian. 

“Aren’t we past formalities Mando? At least do me the honor of saying my name...old friend.” 

Your gaze immediately shifted from the kid to the beskar-clad man standing in front of him. So they knew each other? Why didn’t he tell you? Did he still not trust you to know such matters until now?

“ Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh.” You heard the Mandalorian growl through the visor and even though you didn’t understand what he said, you knew it was anything but friendly. Wait, that meant the T'doshok behind you understood Manod’a. 

A sob escaped your throat when you felt the bounty laugh behind you at the warning. 

“You can’t possibly mean that Mando.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a hint of surprise etched in the voice growling in your ear.

“Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas...believe me.” The conscious part of your brain wondered why he continued to speak in Mando’a. He knew you didn’t understand much of it…

The silence was almost deafening and you weren’t sure what was happening until your boss stepped forward and tilted his helmet to the side,

“Gedet'ye.” The modulated voice sounded strange to your ears. He was only ever this softly-spoken with the Child.

“Well, this is unexpected. In that case-” You didn’t have time to react, watching as the world twirled around you before you fell among the purple and pink flowers you were so impressed by earlier. A strange scent hit your nostrils but you couldn’t dwell on it for more than a few seconds. Willing yourself to stand up, you pushed off the ground as soon as you saw the kid waddling towards you. As soon as he tried to walk behind you, you knew what he was trying to do and picked him up before he could do anything.

“No little guy...you- I can’t...I need to make sure you’re okay.” You could faintly hear the sound of blasters going off for a few moments and by the time you managed to take the gun out of your holster, you saw the Mandalorian standing above an unconscious reptilian creature. So that’s what a T'doshok is…

Slowly making your way towards them, you blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes to try and clear your sight. 

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” You shivered at the tone Mando was using with you. Dank Ferrik, you must have hit your head pretty hard if you thought the Mandalorian was worried about anyone but the green little thing in your arms.

“I- yes. I’ll be f-fine. Just-” You hadn’t meant to react the way you have but as soon as you felt his gloved hand touch your neck, you jerked away from him and held out your hand to stop him from coming any closer to you. Mando was shocked at your reaction and was glad to have something to hide behind. A few seconds passed in silence and you were still staring at him with wide open eyes and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were afraid of him. It occurred to him that it wasn’t shock that beat at his heart but a deep and twisting sense of hurt. And when he scanned your body language, he could tell you were trembling in front of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to give you another reason to fear him.

“Can you walk back to the-”

“Yes. I’ll- fu...I’ll take the kid.” Before he could say anything else, you were clutching the Child closer to your chest and walking back to the Razor Crest. You searched your mind to try and understand why you reacted the way you have to his touch but couldn’t find anything to explain the sharp pain striking through your insides. It was too much too quickly. Even though it wasn’t his skin, you felt neurons firing simultaneously as soon as he trailed his fingers down your neck. You hoped to the gods he wasn’t offended by your reaction because the last thing you needed was to drive him further away from you.

Barely making it back to the ship, you managed to go up the ladder and put the Child back in his crib in the cockpit before shutting it and locking the door behind you. Scrambling inside your mind for a moment, you turned to the ramp and walked towards the hatch before pushing in the code until it sealed shut. 

In an instant, everything touching your skin was too rough and incredibly heavy. Before you could think twice about it, you were violently stripping out of your clothes, throwing them to the ground on your way to the refresher. As soon as you walked into the small room, you turned on the cold water and sighed heavily as it beat down on your heated skin. 

“Not enough…” Crying to the empty room, you made sure the hot water wasn’t on before leaning back against the cool tiles of the walls. But no sooner than that were you hissing and pushing off of the wall. You completely forgot about the open gashes on your back and the shooting pain was almost instantaneous when you remembered just how large the wound was.

As you dwelled on the last hour or so, you felt your legs give out on you and before you knew it, you were sliding down to the floor. Eyes shutting slowly, you fell to the side and let the cold water run down your form. And as hard as you tried to stay awake, you couldn’t help your mind’s request as it begged to rest. You let sleep wash over you, the last sound ringing in your ear was Mando’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

Back outside, the bounty hunter was fuming with anger, not caring about how oddly violent he became with the quarry. He was never one to beat an unconscious being but something took over him when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. As he pushed his way through the forest, he thought back to the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. And he hated himself for the way his body reacted to your fragile body.

“Ni’duraa.” He whispered to himself when he saw the Crest come into view, continuing to pull the T'doshok until he walked up the ramp and onto the ship. It was awfully quiet but he decided to freeze the reptile before he walked around to look for you. Minutes later, he was ascending the ladder to the cockpit, unlocking it and reaching for the crib on his pilot chair. When he opened it and saw the kid cooing in his sleep, he shut it once more and left to look for you. It was strange how he couldn’t hear a single sound. You were normally talkative after a mission, and as he placed his weapons back on the wall, he noticed your clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. Mando sighed heavily as he picked them up, flushing violently when he saw the last two items leading into the refresher. Strange, you were never one to throw things around.

Not wanting to bother you anymore, he placed the clothes on your cot and ascended to the cockpit once more, wanting to leave Felucia as quickly as possible because he knew how the locals became when uninvited guests stayed for too long. As they left the sector, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but question why you were still in the refresher. You’d arrived long before him and it took him a while to navigate through the jungle because of how heavy the bounty was. 

Putting the ship on auto-pilot, he made his way to the refresher but not before noticing a strange scent fill his nostrils. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a bright purple powder covering his gloves and as soon as he brought his hands up to the edge of the visor, he was hit with many different sensations, all of which he could distinctively place back to you. Your honey-scented soap, the orange tea he saw you constantly drinking, the smell of your sweat on a particularly hot day when you tried to fix the ship...

“Fuck…” He swore before wiping his gloves against his cloak and approached the refresher. 

Knocking on the door, he waited a few moments for a response and breathed impatiently when  you didn’t bother to say anything.

“Open up, Cyar'ika.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly using such endearing words to call for you and when he was met with more silence, he groaned in annoyance before warning you. “If you don’t open the door now, I will break it.” Normally, you would have clapped back with a snarky comment that would get his blood boiling but he knew something was wrong when you remained quiet. Throwing propriety out the window, he kicked the door open and walked in, eyes searching the small room until they fell on your unconscious form under the water. 

“Maker,” kneeling to the ground, his heart clenched when he saw a viscous, black liquid oozing out of the gash on your back. How did he not notice this when you left? Quickly reaching for the left knob, he swore when he noticed the hot water wasn’t even on and almost broke the other one as he tried to switch it off. Why would you take such a cold shower when you weren’t even on a desert planet? Wiping your hair away from your face, the Mandalorian tried to wake you and began to feel anxiety seep into his clothes along with the water cascading down your body when he realized this was much worse than he thought. He took off his gloves and pushed you onto your back, trying his hardest to avert his gaze from your naked skin as he bent down and carried you out of the refresher. 

Opening his quarters, he laid you on his covers before grabbing the anesthetic above him and turning you on your stomach to care for the wounds. As he sprayed your back, he noticed the way you groaned in your sleep and forced himself to attend to the task at hand. He hoped to the gods there wasn’t any poison in the wound before he grabbed the bacta spray and slowly made his way down the skin of your back. He sighed in relief when he noticed your skin slowly shifting and sealing itself, trying to calm his increasing heart rate when he remembered just how fragile and naked you were beneath him. Some sick part of him was attracted to you even in such a state and he wished more than anything for you to be awake and willing to-

This is not how he pictured seeing you for the first time.

When you started shifting beneath him, he kneeled away from you and covered your legs, continuing to care for the wound on your lower back until it started to close as well. By the time he put all the medication back in its place, you were turning around and moaning in discomfort and Mando realized it was because you were probably still freezing from the cold water. Taking off his cloak, he barely draped it on your sleeping form when you pushed it off and turned on your back. He felt the fabric of his pants tighten around his crotch and looked away from you.

“Please...too- too much. I can’t-” He couldn’t understand what you were trying to say and moved to place the cloak on you again, head instantly turning to your face when you smacked the offensive object away from him and began to trail your fingers down your skin. He hadn’t meant to and before he could stop himself, he was watching as your fingers made their way down to your hips before dipping into the space between your thighs.

Maker be damned, how were you so glistening and flushed?

“M-Mando?” His eyes snapped to your face and watched as you spread your legs until he positioned between them. “Mando I need...you. I need you please, this is- it hurts. I can’t...it hurts so much. Please h-help me.” Your voice was filled with dangerous requests, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he saw the way you reached for his thighs and dragged your nails down to his knees. 

“Cyare, you don’t know what you’re asking.” He forced himself to keep his gaze on your face and nowhere else. But with every passing moment, the need to look at where he’d dreamt of feasting on for so many nights outgrew his respect for you. 

“Mando...I want you, n-need you...please, I promise I’ll be good. So so good for you, just- oh maker I-”

The small part of his brain that wasn’t ruled by his pulsing cock finally figured out what was happening and he growled as he pushed off of you and out to your cot. Grabbing your shirt, he turned it around and saw the same purple powder that was on his gloves coloring the whole front of your cloak. He recalled back to what happened when he left you and remembered where the T'doshok pushed you before he attacked him. 

Of course. The pollen from the spore plants.

Which meant that-

“Oh fuck.” The Mandalorian felt his insides churn when he realized what was taking place not ten feet away from him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he knew what could potentially happen to you if your...needs weren't properly met. With reluctance, he made his way back to his sleeping cot and felt his chest tighten when he saw what you were doing.

You were on your side, fingers rubbing furiously at your soaking core and whimpering at the consistent and harsh touches passing through your nerves. But it wasn’t the mess you were making that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that you had his cowl twisted between your thighs and around your back. He watched in awe as you pushed your face into the rough material, taking in deep breaths to try and fill your nostrils with his scent. Taking one step closer to you, his eyes bore into your heated skin and he choked on air when he saw you lick at the hood of the cloak before taking your fingers out of your cunt and replacing them with his cowl. He couldn’t believe his eyes and the thought of wearing it around with your scent sticking to it broke him. 

Mando looked around the ship for a few moments in an attempt to think of what he should do. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he approached your slowly and gasped when he met your eyes and saw the way you were looking at him.

“M-mando! Please...fuck me. I- I need you to...don’t c-care how. I promise I’ll do anything, wh-whatever you want...ple-please.” Chills ran down your spine when you forced yourself to throw the cowl away. Turning around, you laid on your stomach and took a deep breath before raising your lower half off of the covers. As you rested your head on your arm and bit into your wrist, you looked back to the beskar-clad man, silently pleading with him while swaying your ass in the air. 

“Gota'la…” Before the Mandalorian could talk himself out of it, he was kicking his heavy shoes away and making his way closer to you. A part of him screamed that of the two of you, he was the one less affected by the pollen and was technically responsible for whatever transpired next. And he was close to asking you if you were sure you wanted to take this further if it weren’t for the way you reached beneath you and faintly trailed your fingers through your soaking slit. 

“Ad'ika, gar cuyir mesh'la.” He was speaking to himself more than to you and smiled to himself when he noticed your cunt clenching around nothing as soon as his words filled the silence. “Sweet girl, you like it when I speak to you in Mando’a?” You shivered at his tone and found it difficult to respond to him, especially when you could tell he was definitely not looking at you but at the mess you were making on his bed. A loud cry rang through the small room when you felt his hand come down on your backside before squeezing the flushed skin. 

“I asked you a question Cyar'ika.” His deep and modulated voice only made it worse and you found yourself nodding at him before whispering out a low ‘yes.’

“K'olar,” you squealed when you felt Mando twirl your around onto your back before pulling your naked body flush to his still-clothed one. You were about to beg him to just fuck you already when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth to shush you. You moaned shamelessly around his fingers, whining even louder when you realized you were sucking on his calloused skin and not on the gloves he almost never took off unless he was alone. 

“You’re going to come just like this sweet girl.” Mando manhandled you until you were straddling one of his thighs, growling impatiently when you tried to push yourself away from him. His arm tightened around your waist, pushing you down on the beskar cuisse until you finally understood what he wanted from you.

“C-cold…”

“Be a good girl and drench my armor little one. Let me walk around with the memory of your cunt dripping on me.” His words hit too close to your somewhat aware mind and you chose to dwell on their meaning later. Softly inching your hands onto his shoulders, you fisted your fingers into his shirt to support your weight before dragging yourself against the rugged and cool beskar in between your thighs. As you threw your head back and sighed in pleasure, Mando couldn’t help but squeeze the heated skin of your hip, knowing very well there would soon be fingerprint marks wherever he touched you. 

“That’s it...could smell how much you want me Cyare. Can’t believe you’re in my arms...look at you, using my thighs to get off.” You barely managed to turn your attention to him, lips still enclosed around his fingers and biting down on them the more he shoved them in your mouth.

“Mando I- I need to-” Before you could finish your request, Mando was wrapping the other arm around hips and violently dragging you against his cuisse, looking down to watch as your juices dripped on his beskar armor. 

“What a sight…” He groaned and turned his gaze towards you again just in time to watch you fall apart on him. He marveled at how quickly he brought you to pleasure and figured it must have been the pollen making you extra sensitive to his ministrations. Wanting to stretch out your pleasure for as long as possible, he threw you back onto his bed and pushed your thighs open, not giving you a chance to question him as he shoved two fingers into your cunt and massaged that spongy spot deep inside you. You arched your back and grasped at his arms, barely managing to look at the visor just as he increased pressure and fucked you with his fingers. 

“M-MANdo oh g-gods-”

“Scream my name sweet girl, and only my name.” Had you actually listened to what he said, you would have sassed back at him and told him you didn’t actually know his name. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, digging your fingers into his forearms as you came around his thick fingers, repeatedly praying his “name” until you couldn’t remember anything else.

“Mesh'la...you’re so tight and warm for me...that’s it, squeeze my fingers like the good little girl you are.” Mando watched as you came around his fingers, his eyes not knowing where to look and wishing he could taste the sweat sticking on your neck as you whimpered beneath him. 

He heard it before he felt it, moaning in blind lust as he took in the sight beneath him. Your legs shook violently as you, quite literally, drenched his thighs and blankets with your cum and Mando didn’t know if he wanted to lick you dry or stuff his nose into your pulsating cunt. 

“Sweet fucking darling, look at the mess you’ve made,” you shivered when you felt his fingers leave your slit, blinking hazily and turning to look at where he was staring. When you saw what he was referring to, you quickly covered yourself and tried to move away from him, embarrassment washing over you when you saw the way he was so obviously staring at the wetness dripping down your. But Mando was much quicker than you, grabbing your thighs and pushing them wide open again before laying in between them and dragging his crotch across your sensitive clit. 

“Never hide from me,” you nodded instantly and the Mandalorian would never admit feeling his chest fill with pride at the lust-filled fear he instilled into you with only a few words. Your chest heaved as you continued to look into the visor, almost whimpering when you were met with incredibly dazed eyes and messy hair staring right back at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the only proof that Mando was very much aware of your state being the hardness twitching against your sensitive cunt. 

Mando wasn’t sure what to do with you. He wanted to simultaneously fuck you into the next system and lick every inch of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can smell your cunt Ad'ika...can almost taste your neediness.”

“Ma-mando I- I want you to r-” You felt so naked beneath him, wishing he’d at least take off his clothes before this went any further. Not a single care was given to his helmet and it was out of the question to even attempt and ask him if he could take it off. You just wanted to feel his skin sliding against yours as he fucked you. Nothing else mattered. Just his scarred and sweaty muscles contracting and trailing over your own. 

“What is it sweet girl?” His voice felt like a thousand needles piercing your soul and you didn’t realize where your hands were moving until you felt him roughly grab your wrists and slam them above your head. You could tell there was a shift in the air around you and ceased to breathe when you no longer heard his moans. 

“This is the way.” Those four words hurt you more than they should have. 

“I- I would never ask you to...I swear I just wanted- I wanted to touch you. Not take it off...please I-” Mando felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because somehow, even in your most inebriated state, you respected him. You put him before yourself. And he ceased to breathe when he sat up and watched as you grabbed at his arms and refused to let go.

“N-no don’t go...I need you- d-don’t leave me pl-” Your breathing was erratic and the Mandalorian feared you’d spiral into shock. Without thinking much of his next moves, he grabbed the nearest item of clothing and ripped a small piece of it, returning to rest between your knees and not giving you a choice as he wrapped the band around your eyes and tied it in the back. You trailed your fingers over the band and pulled away instantly when you felt his the hair on his wrist. 

“I’m sorry…” Mando thought of your actions so far and knew in his heart that if there was ever another who’d look upon him, it would be you. Softly taking your hands in his, he pulled them towards his helmet and rested them at the side.

“T-take it off.”

“I can’t...Mando, you don’t have to- I swear I was only-” As hard as it was to say those words, you wanted him to know that he owed you nothing. And you hated how selfish you were being in that moment because the man was trying to tell you something and you were only worrying about yourself and how much your cunt ached for him. You were so close to pushing him on his back and taking your pleasure from him but something told you it would be worth the wait. 

“Mesh'la, I want you to.” You always marveled at how much the Mandalorian could convey in only a few words and shouldn’t have been surprised when you felt just how much he was willing to put his trust in you. Not wanting to scare him, you slowly pulled on the visor until it was completely off, remaining motionless as he took it from your hands and placed it on the floor. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with your hands so you kept them to the side, fisting your fingers into the blankets to prevent you from reaching out and touching his face. 

Mando could tell you wanted to touch him. You even told him yourself. So he made the decision for you and leaned down, passing his lips over your forehead and smiling down at you when he heard you suck in a breath. You gasped when you felt his beard tickle your cheeks. He had a beard. Of course he had a beard. But as he continued to leave kisses over your face, you realized it wasn’t really a full-grown beard. It didn’t matter in the end because he was driving you insane with every small pass of his plump lips near where you wanted him.

As he finally molded his lips with yours, you felt him pull your hands up to his face and lay them on his cheeks, the groan escaping his throat letting you know he enjoyed you touching him as much as you, perhaps even more. The kiss grew frantic the more you explored his naked skin, and you couldn’t hold back the long moan that erupted into his mouth as soon as you felt him suck on your tongue. When you pulled on his soft hair, Mando couldn’t help but growl into the heated kiss, not caring for how rough he was being as he grabbed and squeezed your thighs. 

But the kiss was over as soon as it began and you whined after him when you felt him pull away from you. You felt your fingers ascend to your face but remembered why the Mandalorian blindfolded you in the first place. Not wanting to lose his trust, you pushed your arms beneath your back to prevent any temptations from taking place. Unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching every little muscle twitch on your nude form and he almost devoured you right then and there when he saw you quickly moving your fingers from your face. 

He was amazed by how caring you were even when you didn’t hold any proper level of the right consciousness. Anyone else would have removed the cloth and blamed the pollen. But not you. 

You were special. 

Refusing to waste any more time, Mando made quick work of the beskar armor, not caring about the mess he was making just outside his room. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, smiling when he noticed you shivering beneath his gaze. He was on you as soon as he deposited his long-sleeve and pants, devouring your mouth and digging his fingers into your waist as he rutted against you. 

“Ner-” 

The possessiveness was almost palpable and he surprised even himself at the single syllable. Since when was he like this?

“Mando,” you whispered his name as you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him flush against you, sighing in relief when you felt the hair of his chest tickle your nipples. Mando noticed your reaction and instantly descended on your heaving chest, biting and licking and pinching at the hardened buds until you begged him to slow down.

“Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. You’re so fucking delicious.” The way he effortlessly switched between his mother tongue and Basic shouldn’t have turned you on this much and yet you were. 

“Fuck me.” Your words were dripping with desperation and the Mandalorian wasn’t able to hold any longer. He wanted to take his time with you, commit every little curve to memory. Memorize what made your breath hitch and what made you sigh. 

But the request ended all of his curiosity and before you knew it, you felt him roughly pull down on his boxer briefs. You flushed when you heard the sound of his hand jerking his cock, mouth falling wide open when it jutted at your inner thighs and you felt how fucking hard and thick it was. 

“What will it be sweet girl? You want me to make love to you,” he paused for a moment and took advantage of your distracted expression, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet slit and biting his lips when he felt you arch against him at the simple yet filthy movement. “Or fuck you like I own you…like you’re mine.”

Hearing him say ‘fuck’ in such a vulgar tone did it for you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself except widen your legs more for him and grab the bed sheets beneath you.

“F-fuck me like you own me Mando...ruin me. Take what you want and- oh maker you’re so- so...fu- please, u-use me however you want. Just- I need your cock. Need to cum on your cock...can’t wait anym-”

Mando was sure he broke you with his words, watching in awe as you begged and begged until you couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no warning, no asking if you were ready for him. There was just your wet cunt teasing him until he couldn’t bear the thought of not being deep inside your pussy.

Resting his head against yours, he took his painfully hard cock in his hand and shoved it past your wet lips, letting out a deep growl as he felt you scratch his back.

“Mando, Mando, M-mando…”

You didn’t find the strength to think of a proper sentence to express what you were feeling so you opted to pray his name over and over again. He was shaking above you and you knew instantly he was trying his hardest not to break you.

“Take what you want- I...I won’t break.” 

Just hearing you say those words to him almost made him cum right then and there. You were returning the trust he gave you and he knew there was no way of putting this moment behind him even if he tried. 

Pulling out until only the head of his cock was splitting you open, Mando bucked his hips violently back into you, whispering the filthiest promises into your ears as he set a rough pace that had you seeing worlds you didn’t even know existed. 

“So, fucking, tight...how are you so wet and tight for me Cyare?” It took you a while to realize you were hearing his voice without the modulator of his mask. How had you not noticed how beautifully sinful it was when he first took it off? You wanted to tell him how much you loved hearing his thick and smooth voice. You wanted to kiss down his neck and bite onto his shoulders. You wanted to push him down and force his cock inside your throat. 

So much. You wanted so much. 

But you couldn’t find your voice in that moment. Not when he was railing into you with such an unforgiving force. 

“Made for me...made to take my cock. Such a sweet fucking girl- ah.” You should have known Mando would not be the quiet type in bed. He was a man of few words during his day-to-day life so of course he would take this chance and spill out his innermost thoughts. But it surprised you nonetheless considering how downright dirty his moans and whispers were. And you were sure he was as filthy, if not more, when he continued to speak in Mando’a. 

With every passing moment, you felt a piece of your heart split from your chest and slowly make its way into his hands. He was branding you, his cock reaching so deep inside you that you were sure you could feel him right below your navel if you only moved your hands against your skin. But you couldn’t afford to let go of him, not when he was using you just as you requested. 

“Mando you...maker, you’re filling me so- so good. I- please, can I cum? I want t- to cum. Been so good for you. Need to-” The chuckle that left his lips was sweet music to your ears until you realized he might be laughing at how pathetic you were. 

“Fucking gods Ad'ika...fill you up? Is that what you want sweet girl? You want me to- fuck, fuck...want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re killing me baby.” His voice was hoarse and he realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from him. It was his deeped, darkest secret. He swore he would go to his grave with it. Too often he thought of breeding you, fucking you and fill you up until his cum leaked out of you and you couldn’t move. Too many nights he went to sleep thinking of what it would feel like to wake up with your sweet cunt still wrapped around his cock. What he’d give to ensure not a single drop went to waste. 

Too many days were spent dreaming of giving that little womp rat a sibling to run around with. 

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed by him and he was about to slow down when he felt your hands grab his ass and push you closer to him.

“Want your cum Mando...want you to cum inside me, fill me up until I can’t breathe...oh fuck, until I can’t feel anything but your cum hot and deep inside me. Fuck a baby inside me Mando I- oh oh gods I-” Mando couldn’t hold back anymore, violently pushing his cock inside you and swallowing your moans every time they echoed just a little louder than he preferred. He groaned in ecstasy when he looked down and saw pure bliss etched on your soft features. You clenched around him, thighs vibrating around his hips as he somehow drove into you harder and carried you past the point of pleasure. You didn’t know you were coming around him until you heard him whisper ‘good girl’ in your ears. And it sent a jolt down his spine when he continued to rut against you and fill the ship with the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin. It was almost painful, the way he didn’t let up and continued to rail into you without a single care. 

“Mine...mine, fucking mine. That’s it sweet girl, feel me. Feel me marking your fucking soul.” He was a mumbling mess at this point and he wasn’t sure if it was because you were panting like an animal in heat or because of the way you desperately licked and kissed and nipped at his neck and lips. 

“Yes, I’m yours Mando. Yours...always have been.”

The heaviness of your words struck his heart instantly, and he shoved his cock so deep inside you he swore he could feel your heartbeat. Mando rested his head in the crook of your neck, biting harder than intended on your shoulder as hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls. You feel a sudden warmth wash over you and dug your nails into his ass as he thrust once, twice, three times before stilling completely. 

The two of you continued to breathe heavily against each other and when Mando moved his knees to get comfortable between your thighs, you unintentionally squeezed his cock and felt him twitch inside you.

“Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika.” It was such a silent comment and you knew this was much different than everything he’d said thus far. Something about his tone told you he was spilling his heart out and you wished more than anything to ask him what he was saying but knew you shouldn’t...wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted him to continue and speak to you.

You were brought back from your thoughts when the Mandalorian kissed your lips, and you felt yourself drowning in his scent when he rubbed your hair and nudged your jaw with his nose.

“Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar.” Slowly, Mando wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over until you were practically sleeping on top of him. The two of you hissed when you felt his cock leave your heat and Mando wished more than anything to spread your thighs and watch as his cum leaked down your thighs. No worries, he’d do that later.

Later…

Oh what he would give for there to be a ‘later’ with you. 

The thought of not being able to have you again snapped him back to reality and he realized there was a very high chance this would never happen again because as far as he knew, this was only a consequence of the pollen.

Not wanting to bother you with his insecurities, Mando pushed your head down onto his chest and rubbed your shoulders, telling you to get some rest and to not worry about anything else. 

Hours later, Mando was waking up to a soft noise emitting from beneath him. As he rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings, he looked down and noticed you were still very much naked and cold next to him. Pulling the covers over you, he allowed his eyes to feed on your curves before meeting your face. Dread filled his heart as soon as he saw the wet patch on the band around your eyes. 

You must have woken up and realized what happened. A thousand different scenarios flew through his mind and Mando knew that almost each one of them was caused by your regret of sleeping with him. 

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” When you didn’t respond and sniffed loudly, Mando knew he had to brace for the worst. 

“Please...are you hurt anywhere?” Hearing his pleas was what did it for you and you threw yourself into his chest. 

“Mando I- I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know what was happening...I promise I- please don’t tell me to leave. I can’t leave you or the Child. I- I promise I’ll pretend this never happened. Just- don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of living without you...without him.”

Of all the things the Mandalorian thought he would hear from you, those were certainly the last to make the list. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky with you? Not only did you refuse to take the blindfold off when you woke up but you genuinely thought you’d forced him into sleeping with you.

“Cyare, it hurts to see you cry. Come here.” Mando sat up against the cold metal wall, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the covers around you so you weren’t exposed to the cold air of the ship. 

“You didn’t take advantage of me sweet girl. If anything, I- I should be the one apologizing. I was not hit with the effects of the pollen as much as you have been and...and I should have refused your pleas. But you looked so beautiful, Cyar'ika. You prayed for me to have you and I- I was selfish. I was selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into you. Branding you. Being with you.” To say you were surprised by his words would have been the understatement of the century. 

The Mandalorian wanted you. He wanted to have you. He wanted to be with you. 

“I-I’ve wanted you for so long...spent so many nights dreaming of being with you.” You confessed to him before you could think of the meaning behind your words and you were met with a deep sigh and a kiss on the lips almost immediately. 

“How long Mesh'la?” 

“S-since Tatooine.” 

Mando’s heart skipped a beat at the short yet direct response. He’s only ever been to Tatooine once with you, months and months ago when he needed Peli to fix something on the Crest for him. You hadn’t even been with their group for three weeks then. So busy thinking of all the ways he could have had you since then, Mando didn’t notice how the silence affected you until your fingers twitched against his chest. 

“Mando?”

“That was eons ago.” It was more of a comment than a question and you weren’t sure if he was angry or surprised. 

“Is...is that bad?”

“Bad? No Ad'ika, not bad.” When he didn’t offer more of an explanation, you rested your head on his chest and continued to draw circles on his naked abdomen. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in each others arms but the faint sounds of cooing and laughter snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should probably get up and make something for the kid to eat. Before you could move away from him however, Mando was bringing you closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you could never tire from feeling his lips mold and pass over yours and you welcomed his tongue with as much vigor as you could muster up.

As he pulled away, you smiled at him and wished more than anything to be able to see him smile back at you. 

“Din.”

“Hmm?”

“My name...it’s Din. Din Djarin.” 

Mando could see the exact moment you registered what he just said and he smirked to himself at how pretty you looked when something shocking took place. 

“Din.” You repeated his name silently, afraid this would all be a dream and that he didn’t actually just tell you something that was so important to him.

“You didn’t have to tell me…” You traced his jaw with your fingers and marveled at how oddly soft his beard was. 

“I didn’t, but I wanted to.” Din was silent for a few seconds before he flipped you beneath him and took hold of your wrists before slamming them harshly above your head. “I wanted you to know it, Mesh'la, so you could scream it the next time I fucked this sweet and tight cunt.” 

For a man of few words, he sure knew what to say to get you worked up again.

Translations: 

Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh - I will kill you if you do not leave her.

Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas. - I do not care about the credits.

Gedet'ye. - Please.

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni’duraa! - You disgust me.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Gota'la - Maker.

Gar cuyir mesh'la. - You are beautiful. 

K'olar - Come here.

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine.

Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. - I can’t...hold back.

Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika. - I fear you, darling.

Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar. - You are too important to me. I can’t lose you.

[bangtaninborderland]

RISK IT ALL (9) - Don’t Miss Me

Genre: Chishiya x fem reader, fluff, angst, action.

Warning: sexual assault, unwanted advances, Niragi is kind of perverted, guns, mention of death, mentions of poisoning

A/N: I’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get out I am really sick at the moment so I have literally been trying to write any minuet I am not resting. I will make up for it by uploading double when I am better. Thankyou so much for interacting I have been getting so many good responses and it really does make my day. I appreciate every single reader. This is a slight filler but everything in this chapter will be important.

Ch.08| Masterlist | Ch.10

Sleeping wasn’t something that you could. The events with Chishiya were on a constant repeat, his words ringing in your ears and the feeling of his lips on yours had embedded itself into your mind.

You had barely noticed when the night sky had turned to a pale grey, rain on game days weren’t good, it made the conditions much worse especially in outdoor games. Today was different, the terror that usually cripples you before a game had yet to appear and instead of worrying about what would happen your mind had begun wondering about what group Chishiya would be in.

There was positives and negatives to him being in your games, if here was there you could be with him, you’d help him survive, not that he needed help. If you wasn’t and it was a hearts game he would have better chances of surviving if you wasn’t there.

You finally pulled yourself out of your thoughts and got dressed, wearing swimsuits seemed normal however you grabbed your jacket before you left sliding it on just in case it was cold.

The building was much more popular considering the weather outside However the stairs seemed empty.

You heard a dark chuckle behind you “You know I really should thank you properly for the game.”

You cringed hearing Niragis insufferable voice.

“You don’t need to thank me, if it was my choice I would have left you there to die.” You smirk at him.

Before you could turn around and exit the stairs you felt yourself being pushed against the wall. Nirag is hand slid up your jacket and his hand covered your mouth. As usual he had his gun around his neck so although fighting him wouldn’t be smart it was the only option you had.

Your hands worked quicker than your mind as you began clawing at the fingers trailing your skin. This didn’t seem to work as he pushed you further against the wall trapping you.

You felt your heart beating in your chest and did the only thing you could. You raised your leg and Kicked him as hard as you could. He stumbled back and you didn’t waste any time catching your breath before you ran down the last remaining stairs and out of the door.

You kept running until you was safely around other people, although Niragi wouldn’t let other people stop him doing what he wanted you had more of a chance hiding from him this way.

“What’s wrong?” You let out a sigh of relief hearing Kuinas sweet voice.

“Niragi” You watch the smile on her face drop as she pulls you by your hand and starts to walk.

“Kuina where are we going?” You groan.

“Shush” you hear here let out an annoyed whine as she leads you to the room you had sat it yesterday.

She releases your hand once you get to the small staircase. You walked inside the room and sat at a table.

“What happened?” Kuina places her hand onto your shoulder.

“He just mentioned thanking me properly before he tried to touch me. I got away from him before he could do anything but I don’t doubt for a second he wouldn’t try again.” You held back the fear in your voice.

Kuina gave you a sympathetic look and pulled you into a hug. “Are you okay?“ she mumbled against your neck.

“You know I don’t like saying hate, but I hate Niragi. You know the three times I have had to endure any time near him it has been the worst time of my life and our weekly plans consist of deathly games.” She releases you from the hug and widens her eyes at you.

You give her a short smile. “Okay maybe the last bit is an exaggeration but I still hate him. I don’t feel safe, most of the time I don’t feel safe here but I feel like now I will never have a break from looking over my shoulder.”

She pulled you in for another hug “I will kill him if he touches you again.”

You let out a light chuckle and wrap your arms around Kuina “Kuina, I appreciate you so much.”

Before she could hug you back the door opened and you both jumped to see who it was. You was surprised when you see Chishiya walk towards the table.

“Interrupting am I?” Chishiya pulled out a chair sitting down.

He has a different jacket on today, it was more grey than white. You noticed how much it made his eyes stand out. He gave you a quick glance before tuning back to Kuina.

“No, Niragi was just Being a creep again. At least this time it wasn’t me.” She signs looking towards you.

“What did he do this time” he scoffed.

Kuina pointed towards you “She should tell you not me. Besides I’m going to eat I don’t want to die of starvation In the middle of the game.”

You watched as Kuina walked out of the room, she gave you a small wink before she closed the door.

You knew what she was doing and you didn’t know whether to hug her or punch her for it.

“So?” Chishiya mumbled.

“He just started touching me saying it was my real Thank you for the last game, clearly I got away but I don’t doubt he will try it again”. You bow your head a little but you let your eyes wonder to his hands that he had now placed on the table.

“Hmm, sounds like him.” He raised his eyebrows at you, he seemed to have no sympathy or care and once again it left you questioning Chishiyas actions.

You decided to change the subject not wanting to get distracted just hours before the game.

“So do you know the groups for tonight, who am I with?” You laugh trying to lighten the mood.

He leans backwards as he pulls out his earphones from his pocket. “Not me.” He mutters.

A wave Of disappointment washes over you but you continue the conversation.

“Will you at least tell me if Niragi is in my group?” You sigh.

He shook his head “No he’s not.”

You sit in silence together for a moment before he stands up.

“I’m going to eat.” He muttered bluntly.

You watched him walk away and heard the door open, after a few seconds you noticed that you never heard it close and go to investigate.

You see Chishiya standing there holding it open he lets it go when he sees you walking towards him but you understand that he wants you to go with him.

Excitement filled you as you quickened your pace to catch up to him.

“What do you think the games will be like today?” You asked.

You watched as he shrugged his shoulders.

You knew Chishiya wasn’t going to be someone who talked about his emotions or showed them but you wished he would do something to explain last night. However, even though you desperately wanted more you decided not to push it. He had already kissed you and now he’s asking you to lunch, even though he didn’t exactly ask it was implied. At least you hope it was and that’s you hadn’t misread the information.

You walk all the way to the restaurant in silence, you watch him as he picks up his food.

You let out a disgusted sound when he picked up the omelette rolls, if they were fresh you never would have but the canned ones they stocked at the beach were truly disgusting.

You sat opposite him at a table and you both began eating.

“Are you.. nervous for the game tonight?” You stuttered.

He let out a small laugh. “No, I find them interesting, unlike everyone else I don’t hate playing them.”

“What!” You slightly shouted in disbelief.

He frowned his eyebrows at you before taking a bite out of the omelette roll. You watched as his face scrunched up and he rushed to get a napkin to spit it into.

You laughed hysterically at his reaction to the foul food and he lets out an aggravated moan.

“You could have told me you know.” He spat.

You suppress your laughter instead giving him a smile “I didn’t want to annoy you.”

He rolled his eyes at you “Well next time warn me.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod yes as your cheeks turned red. He had said next time, so there will be a next time and if there will be a next time it’s because he wants one. You smile even bigger at the thought of another lunch with him.

“Stop doing that.” He grunts.

“What?” You laugh under your breath.

He points towards your mouth “Smiling like that, it makes your face look broken.”

You look back at him and laugh again. You turn your head to focus on your food and as you do you see him pressing his lips together, you could see the small smile he had tried to hide but you pretended you didn’t.

It didn’t take long for you to finish lunch, you finished before him but you played with your food a little, not wanting the time together to end.

You walked beside him to the hall “Where to now?”.

He shakes his head and begins walking, “To my room.”

“Okay, let’s go!” You sounded too cheerful and internally kicked yourself for the childish voice you had.

He stops walking and turns to face you. “I’m going to my room. Me. Alone.”

He wastes no time waiting for you reaction as he walks into the elevators, you stand there just as confused as last night watching him disappear behind the doors.

Your feet slowly begin moving when you decide to head back to your room to prepare for the game. You rush up the stairs not wanting to waste time being vulnerable for Niragi to attack you again.

Before you could reach your room you see Ann and decide to ask her about the game.

“Hey you.” She smiles as you approach her.

“Hey An. I was wondering if you knew who was playing with me tonight?” You smile back at her as she nods.

“Me, Last Boss and Tatta. I don’t think you’ve met Tatta yet?” She questions raising her eyebrows.

“No i havent. Last boss is the one with the tattoos right?” You let out a small laugh and so does Ann.

You wanted to ask her about Chishiya but you knew how much he would disapprove of it.

“Thank you, ill see you at the car.” She nods and you walk back towards your room.

You close the door behind you and walk over to the shower. Theres only an hour before the game snd you wanted to be fully prepared. You grabbed some sweatpants and a vest along with your hoodie placing them onto the bed before heading into the shower.

You don’t rush in the shower, feeling the water on your skin gives you a huge sense of relief. When you do finally step out of the shower and go to get your clothes you notice something on the bed that wasn’t there before.

You walk over to the paper sitting on the bed. You read the words written sloppily in a black marker.

“Dont miss me”

Underneath the paper was the small makeshift blade Chishiya had given to you before the last game you two played together. You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep you safe.

You threw your clothes on and slid the small blade into the waistband of your pants. You slip on your shoes and head down to the car.

When you get down there you heard the normal laughter and cheering of the other beach members, it was sick the way they made a party out of unavoidable deaths.

You walked over to the car Ann was standing by, Chishiya was no where to be seen and you guessed that meant he had already left. You slowly climbed into the car. You sat Ann, Tatta and Last Boss were at the front.

The drive was short and silent, it reminded you of the first game you played and how Chishiya had let you walk with him. When you arrived at the game arena you was confused at the strange building, it was small and not like any other. Your hand brushed along the small blade snd you smiled knowing that he wants you to be okay.

You all head inside and pick up a phone.

You noticed that there was only 8 phones on the table which was strange because there is normally double that.

Please wait for the game to commence.

Registration will close in 3 minuets.

“There must be a limit to how many players can join.” Ann stated answering what you had been thinking.

You spin around as you heard a familiar voice. “Does that mean it will be harder.”

You turn around to see Arisu and the Climber girl standing at the entrance.

“Hi.” You mumble.

Arisu gives you a smile as he picks up a phone. “You’re still alive.”

“Fortunately”. You smile back.

You watch the door as three other players walk in. You see their faces frown further when they realise theres only two phones left on the table.

The shortest of the men turn to the other two standing beside him. “Kaito, you should definitely go. You’re the best out of us three and Kenji your visa runs out today you have to go.”

They stand for a moment discussing amongst themselves after a few moments the shorter man leaves the building. “I’ll wait” he shouts and his friends nod.

They each take one of the remaining phones and you hear the chime of their verification being completed.

Registration is now closed.

There is a total of 8 participants.

You waited patiently as the information flashes on your screen, the fear that had been absent all day had filled you up in abundance.

Difficulty: 7 of spades

Game : Dare

Rule: Complete the dares to leave the room.

Clear condition: Each player must complete a dare and collect their code.

You clear the game when the code is entered complete with all 8 numbers.

Time limit: 2 hours

If the objective isn’t complete within the time limit the device within the room will release a deadly toxin.

“I guess this is it.” You whisper as every player walks into the room ahead.

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo - how y/n made friends with everyone

this is an extra to the great adventures series

requested: yes/no

warnings: cursing

tommy

you were actually friends with tommy when he was streaming to a few viewers, and you even watched as his channel grew. eventually he asked you to mod for him, as he knew he could trust you and because had experience being a twitch mod. he was also the reason you began streaming. as for how you met, you were in the same classes as him in highschool, and since you were the ‘quiet’ person in the class, they sat tommy next to you. honestly, you hated him when you first met him and the feeling was mutual. you didn’t want to sit next to the rather loud teenager and he had no one to talk to anymore as his friends were on the other side of the room.

“do you ever talk?”

“heh?”

“i said do you ever talk...do you always do that”

“do what”

“that fucking HeH.”

“are you mocking me simons?”

“noooo why would i do that...”

“it’s y/n.”

“right, yeah, yeah, i totally knew that.”

“great now please leave me alone i’m trying to work.”

“loser.”

“the fuck did you just say?”

“nothing.”

it was that moment tommy decided he was going to make you just like him, and a few years later that’s exactly what he did. by year 11 you and tommy had grown extremely close. the last day of school arrived a lot earlier than expected, everyone was extremely stressed, no one knew what to expect or what was going to happen. you found yourself hanging around with tommy a lot more as you had no idea if you would both be going to the same college, in september you received a text message that made your night:

tommy: college sent out emails telling you if you were accepted go check

*2 minutes later*

tommy: well?

y/n: i got accepted

tommy: me too

y/n: call me right now

tommy: i’m about to stream..have you ever considered streaming?

y/n: absolutely not

tommy: make an account and stream after me i’ll raid you..make me mod you know how people can be

once college started up, you were slightly nervous the two of you would drift away from each other. however this was far from the case, although you both did different subjects and he was only in on wednesdays, the pair of you would hang out together a lot more. he would be in your streams and vice versa, you would either be in his tiktoks, or you would be the one filming them.

“y/n make a tiktok we can be mutuals.”

“please god no.”

you spent so much time at his house either talking about random things, playing whatever game you could find, or streaming. he dragged you to every meet up he went on, allowing you to meet people such as niki, phil, and, wilbur. you didn’t know this, but he would constantly bring you up in conversations with dream, which eventually lead to you joining the smp in october where you would later be able to meet the likes of jack, technoblade and jschlatt. the only person you didn’t seem to see on the server was his other friend tubbo.

ranboo

you had become friends with scott after being his first twitch mod and when he noticed you started streaming, he was extremely supportive, always raiding your stream once he ended his. today you found yourself bickering with scott because he wouldn’t let you in mcc despite the fact you were ‘the best minecraft player.’

“y/n, i watched you die in minecraft 7 times last night within 5 minutes.”

“oh i’m sorry mr perfect, let me in mcc.”

“no.”

“fine i’ll make my own.”

and that’s exactly what you did..well you tried your best.

you started your stream as soon as scott ended and had him call you on discord after explaining to your chat what you were about to do.

“scott final chance let me in mcc, i’ll settle for access to the practice server.”

“fine.”

“REALLY?!”

“absolutely not!”

“fuck you, ill be in it one day!”

you left the call telling chat you didn’t need that negative energy in your life.

you really have scott to thank for you making friends with ranboo, scott made a tweet explaining what you were doing on stream which caught ranboos eye.

Smajor1995: after not making it into mcc again my good friend @y/n has decided to take it upon themselves to make their own on stream!! ill also be in the stream (if they answer my calls) *twitch link*

ranboo joined your stream and was instantly met with you yelling at scott (again) to let you in mcc.

“IM YOUR TWITCH MOD!”

“i will ban you from mcc!”

“you don’t have the nerve... so he left the call this is bullshit watch me land this water bucket clutch down this ravine so we can find axolotls and build an army.”

*you died*

you pulled your hood over your face before sinking down your chair taking a deep breath.

“FUCK!”

you calmly got back up and looked into your camera.

“i was so close, so very close.. HEY CHAT SCOTT SENT ME A LINK TO THE SERVER!”

a few minutes later you were able to get onto the server, only to be kicked less than a minute later. the reason you were banned being ‘i watched you fail the water bucket clutch down a ravine.’

you continued your build on your server and just spent the rest of the stream talking about anything that crossed your mind, that was until you decided to copy ace race. once finished, you looked into your camera and pulled your microphone closer to you.

“so this is race ace, so scott doesn’t sue me, and basically it’s going to be this course, but i’m going to change a random section practice it every day, not tell anyone it changed. of course i’m going to tell my team we have to win, oh fuck i forgot scott was watching my stream..it’s okay he didn’t hear me he’s too busy planning how he can rig the next mcc.”

ranboo found himself enjoying your content and even noticed you in his chat multiple times.

“just a minute chat i’m just sending an important dm to my mods.”

that’s when you noticed chat paused for a minute after you sent a message, it confused you for a minute before realising ranboo made you a vip on his channel and you decided to do the same for him on your channel, from there you added each other on discord. the pair of you made friends extremely quickly, you were constantly part of his streams as you would call him on discord not realising that he was streaming.

“hi y/n, by the way i’m streaming”

“i just wanted to ask if you knew how to break into a house?”

“....why”

“i locked myself out by accident and my parents are asleep come help me.”

“you are in the uk.”

“okay? catch a flight.”

chat honestly loved you and your friendship with ranboo. the pair of you only met a few weeks ago and you were already acting as though you had known each other for years.

jack

you and jack met for the first time on the smp, which would have been fine, however you met during lore and your characters weren’t exactly the best of friends. once lore had ended, everyone said their goodbyes and left the call. a few moments later you received a discord message from jack asking if you were available to call any time soon. since you were back in lockdown, you had plenty of free time. you arranged a time and date a few days later you called jack, where you had your first proper interaction out of character.

“hello jack!!”

“oh hi y/n i just thought it may be a good idea to get to know each other, well you know considering we’re both on the dream smp.”

“yeah, yeah, i understand what you mean.”

the pair of you ended up getting along with each other, it was slightly awkward for the first 5 minutes of the call, but that was expected since you hadn’t really met jack before and were anxious to call him. however, after that the conversation started to flow and you found out the pair of you had a lot in common making it easy to come up with things to talk about. it ended up feeling as though you were catching up with a friend you hadn’t spoken to for a while.

“has anyone told you your accent is really strong.”

“so is yours, y/n, what the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“it means your accent is strong, duh.”

jack asked if you’d like to stay in call and join him on the smp whilst he streamed, and you gladly accepted the offer as you really didn’t want to do your college work, and you were enjoying your time with him. a few minutes into the stream jack had killed you several times.

“JACK STOP KILLING ME!”

rather than answering you he just sat laughing. he then went on to attempt to mute him microphone, he failed. however he didn’t realise this, so you sat listening to his plan on how he was going to kill you again. this time you were prepared, you sent a message to tommy telling him to log on along with your location. few minutes later tommy was by your side and helped you kill jack several times for revenge.

“Y/N...TOMMY!!”

“you didn’t mute your mic, so i told tommy you were bullying me.”

“im gonna go...BYE JACK, BYE Y/N, ILL SEE YOU SOON!”

“i can’t believe you.”

“hey you’re the one who didn’t turn your mic off.”

“how did you know?”

“i had your stream on my other monitor.”

“ayeee you watch my streams?”

“...i’ve been a sub for 4 months.”

the two of you stayed chatting and playing for another hour. the pair of you were already so close and you had only met each other the other day. this was just the start of your friendship, soon enough you were in a laugh and the stream ends challenge on his stream, however due to lockdown rules this was done over discord leading to you accidentally leaving the call several times.

“and they’re gone again!”

*4 minutes later*

“SORRY JACK IM BACK!”

“stop leaving y/n!”

“oh i’m sorry, let me just go yell at my wifi to stop cutting out!”

a few seconds later you could be heard faintly in the background screaming at your wifi as it would continue to buffer. as soon as restrictions were over one of the first things you decided to do was go to jacks and stream a laugh you lose where there was a punishment if you were responsible for losing the last heart. however everything was apparently hilarious in person as you would constantly laugh, meaning you were responsible for losing the last heart.

“y/n give me your phone.”

“no.”

“you lost let me tweet from your account”

“fine..”

soon enough your fans and friends with your notifications on received this twitter notification

“y/n: jack is so cool and funny he is also really tall i am not”

tubbo

tubbo was actually the last person you met and made friends with, your community were convinced for some reason that you both didn’t like each other and that’s why the pair of you didn’t talk to each other. this was far from the case you were both waiting for the right time, tubbo was an extremely busy teenager and you didn’t want to interrupt him, and tubbo knew you were currently in a stressful position since you had recently joined the dream smp, also you were still meeting people so he didn’t want to stress you out. this doesn’t mean he didn’t want to be your friend, he actually asked tommy since he had been your friend for at least 4 years what would be the best way of getting to know you.

“mate they hated me when we first met, just talk to them or something. you could have met them the last time i went up to visit you, but they ended up not feeling too good and went back to the hotel room.”

“when are you next coming up?”

“how about next week, and i’ll bring y/n, i really don’t understand why you’re nervous tubbo, it’s y/n they wouldn’t hurt a fly..well hmm.”

“see you next week then!”

a week later tommy dragged you to the train station.

“uh tommy where are we going?”

“...on a train.”

“no way, really? oh my god!”

a few hours later you finally got off the train.

“ill go with my dad to check into the hotel room, do you want to come with us or?”

“i think i’ll go for a walk and stretch my legs.”

“right okay, meet you at the beach later”

you spent a few minutes walking around the beach picking up any rocks and shells that caught your eye, little did you know it would result in you meeting tubbo. once you finished putting your new collection in your pockets you noticed a small crowd of people walk up to someone asking for pictures assuming it was tommy you walked over to the boy, it wasn’t tommy it was in fact tubbo. at first you stayed silent not wanting to really cause attention to yourself. you only spoke up when some people started to make inappropriate comments towards him.

“oh sorry to be a pain guys me and tubbo have plans with tommy in a few minutes, we should go so we’re not late. bye guys.”

you smiled and waved as they walked away. you looked over to tubbo, you could tell he was still pretty anxious about what just happened and honestly if you was in his position, you would react the same way.

“we should probably move from here incase they come back and see you’re still here, are you okay?”

“im feeling better now it’s over..thank you”

“oh it’s no problem i’m, y/n btw.”

“wait you and tommy were still meant to be on the train.”

“the train was actually on time, tommy went to check into the hotel i wanted to stretch my legs, i also wanted to collect some rocks.”

“did you collect enough or did you want more?”

“im not going to say no if you wanna go collect some with me.”

the pair of you walked around keeping each other close incase the people from before returned. half an hour later, the pair of you sat on a bench close to the beach so you could show tubbo everything you decided to pick up, he ended up keeping a rock he liked to have as a memory. tubbo wrapped an arm around you as it was getting cold whilst you watched the sunset.

“tubbo i think tommy forgot about me.”

“you can spend the night at mine, i’ll send him a message to let him know.”

“are you sure?”

“of course!”

“this has to be the most unsafe thing either of us will ever do, we hardly know each other and now i’m staying at yours.”

tommy sent you a message explaining that he didn’t forget, there was a problem at the other hotel and they had to go find another one, but you’ll be fine to stay at tubbos for the night. the pair of you spent the entire night learning as much as you can about the other person. it had only been an evening but you already knew the pair of you would be great friends.

taglist:

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee

[butwhyduh]

Fit to be Tied

Jason Todd x reader

Warning: Christmas? And the f word.

Christmas series 2

Jason didn’t pay much attention to holidays. Nope. That was for the living. He didn’t have much of need for it. But he did know that Christmas was quiet and New Years was busy for patrol. He guessed everyone ate Christmas dinner and and then got bored of playing nice. Or maybe that just wanted to start the new year with a big ass bang. Who knows?

Even when he was a kid, he didn’t celebrate the holidays. Too poor, mom too lost in drugs, and dad? Well fuck him. He was a piece of shit when he was around.

Jason kicked a beer can out of his way into the pile of trash on the sidewalk. They didn’t get the trash again this week it looked like. Daddy Bruce could play bat but couldn’t throw his money around enough to keep trash from piling on the street.

It was fine. He had more important things to do anyways. He had to buy a Christmas present. He didn’t care for the holidays but the sweet girl he had at home was a doll and fuck, if she didn’t deserve something. So Jason went down to the local pawn shop. Usually not a problem but it was 2 AM. Not exactly prime business hours.

So yes, Red Hood was breaking into a pawn shop to get a bracelet. He was leaving cash, $20 over the cost too. It was something you had seen earlier in the week and had admired. Gems of some kind shaped to look like a butterfly. You’d taken a minute longer to stare at it.

He left as quick as he came. And it wasn’t long until he was opening the window of your apartment dressed in street clothes. You were asleep. Jason had used the excuse of patrol to get out. But in the early morning hours of Christmas, he wanted to wake you.

“Princess,” he said gently. You moved a little before opening your eyes. You smiled up at him. Fuck, he didn’t deserve the way you looked at him. Your eyes looked so innocent and sweet. You never looked at him like he scared you.

“Jaybird, what’s going on?”

“I got you something for Christmas and it’s technically Christmas..” he said pulling out the box. You sat up, curious.

“It’s Christmas Eve. You got me something? I didn’t think we were- I didn’t get anything. I couldn’t-“ you said turning red. Money was too tight to consider it. The fact that the heat was still on this late in the month was a Christmas miracle.

“No no. It’s fine. Just being here is enough for me. I’ve never really celebrated Christmas anyways,” Jason said pushing the box in your hand. You held the box before kissing him.

You opened the box to see the bracelet you had been looking at the pawn shop. You smiled and stared at the pretty little butterfly. Jason watched you carefully for a reaction. He’d never admit it but he was more nervous now than fighting on the street.

“You saw me looking at it. I didn’t think you’d notice,” you murmured softly as you picked it up. Jason took it and wrapped it around your wrist. He clasped it on and you looked at it, moving your wrist in the light.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” you said quietly looking at it. You had a little grin on your face. Jason smiled. That’s the look he wanted. That little bit of happiness that you showed when you were really pleased. He intertwined his fingers in yours.

“Princess, you’re so cold,” Jason said with a frown. He could feel it colder outside but now that he was getting used to the temperature, it wasn’t warm as it should be.

“The heater was acting up again so I turned it down. The blankets are plenty warm,” you said and his heart all but broke. There was no way he was going to let you be cold all winter because the landlord wouldn’t fix things. He might pay this guy a visit. You sensed his anger.

“It’s okay, Jay. Come lay with me and get warm,” you said taking his hands. He let you pull him into bed. He kicked off his pants and shoes and laid on his side. You curled into him as a little spoon. His long big frame all but engulfed you. It always felt to protective. If he was holding you, he knew you were safe. Jason ran his fingers along your bracelet soft as his rough fingers could.

“You’re so good to me,” you said softly and his heart clenched again. Fuck, if you knew all the bad he did. His messed up past. He thought you would have run away when you first learned he was Red Hood but no, you had been kind.

“Naw, Princess you deserve more then this shitty place,” he said, and for the first time, he felt a little bad about giving all of his trust fund to the soup kitchen he would visit as a kid. A little would have been nice to get a better place for you. But he had been making a ton crushing the drug trade at the time and didn’t have a girl back home when he did it. He couldn’t be as reckless now.

You turned in his arms to look in his blue eyes. He has such an intense look on his face that you frowned. “Jaybird, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said pulling his face back to normal. “Just thinking. I wanna move you to a better place, a safer place than this,” he said running his thumb across your cheeks. You grasped his wrist and leaned into his touch. Jason would sometimes get like that. Thinking you deserved better. And you humored him even though you wouldn’t even know what to do with wealth.

“We’re moving. Soon. I’m promising now,” he said thinking about the painful conversation he was going to have with Bruce. His adoptive father he hadn’t even told you about. Bruce would do just about anything Jason asked. Probably the guilt of letting him die.

“But Jay, we’d miss the water that went from boiling to freezing at random. And I’m not sure if I can sleep without Mr and Mrs Jancowski having sex every Tuesday at 2 AM,” you said with a smile. He kissed you to shut you up. You were joking but each one felt like a little knife in his guilt. You pulled him over you and the thought of money troubles faded from your mind.

———————————————

Jason woke before you and watched you sleep. You laid on his chest with your hand in his hair and your soft breath on his throat. The bracelet was still on your wrist. You looked so peaceful, trusted him while you slept. Jason carefully grabbed his phone and texted Alfred. He’d also have to tell you about his adoptive family. His very famous adoptive family.

He threaded his fingers in your hand that was flung across his waist. You began to stir. Jason moved hair from your face and you blinked to see his pale blue eyes watching you.

“Morning, Princess,” he said with a rough morning voice. You smiled.

“Morning, Jaybird.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he started. “I want you to meet my family tonight.”

“Tonight? Your family? I thought your parents...” you trailed off.

“I was adopted. I never told you because I don’t have the best relationship with them. But I think it’s time for you to meet them. I’ve got to tell you something else,” he said and you could hear his heart beat quicker as you laid on him.

“My adoptive father is Bruce Wayne.”

Silence.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. And tonight I’m taking you to meet him. And my adoptive siblings.”

“You aren’t joking,” you said sitting up. Jason sat up too.

“I’m not. I’m kinda the... black sheep of the family. He adopted me when I was 12. I was trying to boost the wheels from the b- Bentley he was driving,” Jason corrected. It was one thing to tell you he was Red Hood. He couldn’t say Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“Wow. I- wow. Okay. That’s a lot to take in. Also on brand to be honest,” you said and he smiled and shrugged.

“Wait. What the fuck do you wear to the freaking Wayne manor for Christmas Eve?” You said a little panicky.

“Whatever you want. It’s just family,” he said with a sideways smile.

“Oh no. I can’t go to freaking Wayne Manor in a Kmart sweater,” you said quickly.

“You can wear,” he said hopping out of bed. He dug way in the back of his closet for a pretty red sweater that was slightly oversized. “This. Should fit fine. Pretty expensive too.”

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“I’ve had it for year and it definitely doesn’t fit now,” Jason said with a laugh. “Try it on.”

—————————————

The weather sucked. Freaking sleet that threatened everything it touched. You were grateful it wasn’t a night of Jason patrolling. This meant taking your car instead of Jason’s motorcycle. Your car was at least 15 years old and you called it Frankenstein because of all the repairs done over the years.

The radio skipped as Jason drove over a speed bump by Wayne Manor and you burst out laughing. Jason looked at you from the side.

“It’s not that funny,” he said. “What’s up?”

“My car is trash, I’m wearing your old sweater, and we’re late. If you weren’t the black sheep before, bringing me home, you will be now,” you said. He grabbed your hand and parked in front of a random house.

“I’ve been the black sheep since I was a kid and you aren’t going to change any thing for the worse. Trust me. In fact they’ll probably think you’re too good for me,” Jason said with a dry chuckle. “So don’t worry about anything. Except making room for pudding. I know it sounds weird,” he said starting to drive again. “But it’s the best part of Christmas.”

Wayne Manor was huge. You knew that. You’d even seen it on tv. But to see it in front of you was honestly terrifying, especially in the nasty weather. You almost hoped Jason was playing some weird elaborate joke and was going to drive on by but he knew the passcode to the gate. He drove in the covered drop off spot by the front door and parked. You both quickly ran in the building.

The front entry was breathtaking. A gigantic Christmas tree and a full staircase decked out in garland like a Hallmark movie. It was like a magazine. In fact, it was in the Christmas episode of Gotham Life the year before.

You gripped Jason’s hand tightly as you walked down the hall. Your shoes sounded unnaturally loud and you had the urge to quiet them like it was a library. Jason pulled you to the doorway of a dinning room full of people settling to eat. Jadon cleared his throat.

“Master Jason! You made it,” Alfred said excitedly. “I recieved your message but it’s been many years. Sit. Sit.”

“Glad you could come,” Jason’s brother Dick said with a grin. He looked at you in curious excitement. You looked down at some kind of mushroom soup placed in front of you. Everyone else was dressed so nicely and ate so perfectly. It was intimidating.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas,” Jason said shrugging. He gave Dick a look that said don’t ask. It didn’t take much for Dick to drop it because he seemed incredibly distracted. You spent most of the meal trying to keep up on conversations you clearly didn’t understand while trying food you’ve never seen before. You could barely remember everyone you were introduced to. One of Jason’s sister(s?) gave you a big hug along with everyone else when she arrived. You couldn’t tell anyone what was even said after the meal. Or so you thought.

Until right across from you, Dick proposes to his girlfriend. He stuttered around before finally asking. “Will you marry me? Oh god, I have a ring,” he said producing one. Everyone watched as she stared in the box.

“Will I marry you?” She asked faintly and you worried she’d say no. How terrible would it be??

“Please say something,” he pleaded and you could tell the man was practically in pain before she said yes. They kissed, the family applauded, and champagne was served.

Jason watched you from the corner of his eyes. How did you react to this? What did you think? You didn’t look jealous or anything. It made Jason think of marriage. He hadn’t before. He’d thought about moving into something more permanent but marriage. He’d never thought about marriage as his future, ever. Of course when you die at 16 and come back with a vengeance, love is low on the priority list.

“Jaybird, you there,” you asked slightly tapping his shoulder. He blinked and looked at you.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just in my head,” he said and you nodded. He’d do that sometimes.

“The party is moving to the parlor,” you said quietly in a proper rich Gothamite voice and Jason huffed before covering his smiling mouth with a nose rub. The rest of the group was moving ahead of you. Dick and his new fiancé were retiring for the night.

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?”

“I’m so sorry, dearest. I can’t understand you with a silver spoon in your mouth,” you laughed. Jason rolled his eyes before guiding your shoulders towards the door. You heard a soft laugh behind you and you turned to see Tim’s girlfriend smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ve got to use that on Tim,” she said grabbing her coat and walking out.

After making sure you were cool with hanging with Tim’s girlfriend and their adoptive sister Cass, Jason and Tim started a very competitive game of pool. You couldn’t help but look at things that cost more than you’ve ever even seen. The chess set Damian and his girlfriend were playing with probably cost more than your car.

But it was Christmas and you tried to push your insecurities aside. It was a fun evening. A glass of wine you kept sipping on helped as well.

After a while Bruce announced that the roads were too bad and that no one was leaving. Jason clenched his jaw for a second before looking at you and relaxing. He didn’t want to stay but he wasn’t risking your health in any way. Instead he focused on the game.

“So if I win,” Jason said a full hour later. By this time, Damian’s girlfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Your eyes felt a little heavy as well. “I get the penthouse.”

“Sure Jay. That’s Bruce’s. But I’m willing to gamble it,” Tim said throwing his hands up at the ridiculousness.

“I accept terms,” Bruce said. Both boys looked at him surprised. “Whoever wins gets the penthouse.”

You turned quickly to watch the game. Okay, is that a normal thing for them? To bet property. The look on everyone’s face said that no it wasn’t normal.

Jason was excellent at pool. It was a common for you both to go down to the pool hall and play some games. Jason would occasionally make some money playing and he did often as a kid. It was also a way to waste time when your mom was throwing beers back like a fish, like Jason’s mother did. Tim didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t as good and looked almost like he was in pain occasionally. But maybe it wasn’t a real competition? Maybe Bruce was trying to give Jason something he’d always want to but didn’t know how. Jason easily won the game.

“So the penthouse is mine?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded and shrugged. Tim softly coughed in his hand. Your heart raced. They couldn’t be serious.

“If you’ll live in it,” Bruce said. Damian was carefully carrying his girlfriend upstairs.

“Deal,” Jason says quickly.

“Deal,” Bruce said looking quiet pleased. Was this his plan all along?

“I guess, deal?” Tim said confused. “Though you should owe me. You’re the one that got me shot.”

Your brain broke. He was shot? And it was Jason’s fault?

“What?! You got him shot?” Tim’s girlfriend asked loudly. Tim blanched.

“Not my fault.”

“Literally your fault,” Tim countered.

“What did you do?” You asked looking at him suspiciously. He offered you a sheepish smile.

“I might have said ‘what are you gonna do, shoot us?’ I meant me. Not Tim! He also has a bulletproof suit,” Jason said. Tim must be a vigilante too. You glared at Jason.

“That’s not in the report,” Bruce said with his eyes narrowing.

“Good night everybody. Merry Christmas,” Jason said pulling you from the room and up to his childhood room.

“You’re in so much trouble,” you said and he grinned.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow. How do you feel about a penthouse? Better than our current place hu?” Jason said pulling you close. You felt dizzy at the idea.

“Seriously? We can’t afford it,” you said trying to stay grounded. It was too good to be true. Things like that didn’t happen to people like you.

“I think I know a guy who can keep the lights on,” he joked and you gave him a serious look. “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the idea of constant hot water. Lights never going off,” Jason said pushing you towards the bed. “No one can hear me make you scream.”

“Tempting. Very tempting,” you said and of fucking course it was. A safe beautiful clean penthouse over your trashy scary apartment wasn’t even a contest. Jason pushed you on the bed and hovered over you.

“What are you doing,” you asked flushed but still encouraging him. It was still his dad’s house and he was getting handsy.

“Trying to have sex with my girlfriend on my old bed like every guy ever has dreamed of,” Jason said. He nipped at your throat. You gasped.

“Got to be quiet, Princess,” he whispered and you pulled him down to kiss more.

————————————

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. You fixed your hair as best you could and threw on Jason’s sweatshirt before going downstairs. You caught a glimpse of the kitchen as Bruce slowly slid a set of keys Jason’s way before taking a long drink from his coffee. “I’m glad you made home for Christmas this year, Jason.” The penthouse.

“Morning,” Bruce said to you nodding before leaving the room. Jason was alone in the kitchen but you could hear others in the breakfast nook a door over.

“Keys,” Jason said showing you. “And no lecture.”

You gave him a hug and looked at the shiny metal keys. It would be a while before you could handle the idea of a freaking penthouse being yours. “But you should get something for Tim. You did get him shot.”

“Let him shoot me?”

“Jason, no.”

[jackoshadows]

 “You,” Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, “will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be Knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.” - Eddard, A Game of Thrones

My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I’ll lay you down, I’ll dress you all in yellow silk, and on your head a crown - Arya, A Storm of Swords

“Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them.” - Kevan, A Dance with Dragons

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

So this is an essay of sorts on my speculation/theory that Arya is going to end up as a leader of the North by the end of the series. I will split this into several parts:

Arya and leadership

Arya and Northern leadership

Arya and Nymeria

Skillsets

Importance of being a Warg/Skinchanger

Succession

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

Arya Stark and leadership

“Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“  - Arya, AGoT

Arya has always been a leader rather than a follower. Just like Jon at the wall, she initially chafes at having to follow orders instead of doing what she thinks is the right thing to do. Despite Gendry and Hot Pie being older than her, she’s the one giving the orders and making the plans. She manipulates or forces characters into doing what she wants – getting Gendry to leave Harrenhal and forcing Jaqen to help her free the Northmen.

Arya took the lead, kicking her stolen horse to a brisk heedless trot until the trees close in around her. Hot Pie and Gendry followed as best they could. From time to time Arya glanced over her shoulder, to make sure the two boys had not fallen too far behind, and to see if they were being pursued - Arya, ASoS

Like most of our protagonists, Arya is ambitious and interested in being an active participant at the top. She wanted to become a King’s councilor and build castles. That entire little speech that Varys gives about the ideal candidate for ruling fits Arya to a T.

Arya has gone hungry, scrubbed and cleaned, cooked and kept house, sewed and mended clothes, bound up wounds, been hunted, been scared for her life – and done all this with limited protection. Just survived on her wits. Arya can wield a sword, is fluent in several languages and has studied with a Septa.

We also see war torn Westeros and the suffering of the smallfolk through Arya’s eyes in ACoK and ASoS. It doesn’t matter if it’s Stark or Lannister, the smallfolk suffer the same – Septon Meribald’s ‘Broken Men’ speech in AFfC embodies what Arya observes. After Arya frees the Northmen using weasel soup and Vargo Hoat betrays the Lannisters, there are reprisal killings, torture and rape enacted by Stark bannermen and the sellswords. The smith, Maester and the head maid are executed for merely serving Tywin – something on which they had no choice. Gendry points this out to Arya and she feels guilty for her part in all this.

“I hate this lot worse. Ser Amory was fighting for his lord, but the Mummers are sellswords and turncloaks. Half of them can’t even speak the Common Tongue. Septon Utt likes little boys, Qyburn does black magic, and your friend Biter eats people.”

The worst thing was, she couldn’t even say he was wrong. The Brave Companions did most of the foraging for Harrenhal, and Roose Bolton had given them the task of rooting out Lannisters. Vargo Hoat had divided them into four bands, to visit as many villages as possible. He led the largest group himself, and gave the others to his most trusted captains. She had heard Rorge laughing over Lord Vargo’s way of finding traitors. All he did was return to places he had visited before under Lord Tywin’s banner and seize those who had helped him. – Arya, ACoK

"It’s not a village, it’s only black stones and old bones. “Did the Lannisters kill the people who lived here?” Arya asked as she helped Anguy dry the horses.

“No.” He pointed. “Look at how thick the moss grows on the stones. No one’s moved them for a long time. And there’s a tree growing out of the wall there, see? This place was put to the torch a long time ago.”

“Who did it, then?” asked Gendry.

“Hoster Tully.” Notch was a stooped thin grey-haired man, born in these parts. “This was Lord Goodbrook’s village. When Riverrun declared for Robert, Goodbrook stayed loyal to the king, so Lord Tully came down on him with fire and sword. After the Trident, Goodbrook’s son made his peace with Robert and Lord Hoster, but that didn’t help the dead none.”

A silence fell."  - Arya, ASoS

"Wolves, she thought again. Like me. Was this her pack? How could they be Robb’s men? She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cry.” - Arya, ASoS

The smallfolk in the Riverlands are caught between the Starks, Tullys and Lannisters with no good choices. And on the ground level, Arya sees this, understands this and acknowledges this. Her actions benefited house Stark and no one else. She understands the cost of war.

Arya is also very keen on justice. In that she not only thinks that characters deserve justice, but she wants to actively participate and deliver justice. She considers the execution of Dareon from the NW as a just one.

Dareon had been a deserter from the Night's Watch; he had deserved to die. - Arya, AFfC

“Guilty!” Arya shouted with the rest. “Guilty, guilty, kill him, guilty!” …

Arya could only think of Mycah and all the stupid prayers she’d prayed for the Hound to die. If there were gods, why didn’t Lord Beric win? She knew the Hound was guilty… - Arya, ASoS

Her father beat her so often and so brutally that she was never truly free of pain or fear until she came to us.”

“Did you kill him?”

“She asked the gift for herself, not for her father.”

You should have killed him.“ - Arya, ADWD

Arya drew back from him. "He killed the slave?" That did not sound right. "He should have killed the masters!" – Arya, aDwD

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Arya and Northern leadership

I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. - Hugo Wull

The North has famously never had a female leader in House Stark. So is it possible for valiant Ned’s precious little girl to become the first Lady Stark to lead the North?

In terms of personality, Arya resembles some of the other female leaders/members of Northern houses. She is bold and forward like Lyanna Mormont and Wylla Manderly. She has trained with the sword and learned how to use a bow and arrow. She proactively engineers her own escape like Alys Karstark. Characters like Ygritte and Alys remind Jon Snow of Arya.

Arya venerates Ned Stark. She follows his advice as much as Robb, Bran and Jon do. Even more so. She executes a NW brother for desertion. And that is important for the Starks.

I should kill them myself. Whenever her father had condemned a man to death, he did the deed himself with Ice, his greatsword. - Arya, ACoK

The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. - Bran, AGoT

“The Starks do not use headsmen. Ned always said that the man who passes the sentence should swing the blade, though he never took any joy in the duty.” - Catelyn, ACoK

“Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold.” Robb lifted the heavy axe with both hands. “Here in sight of gods and men, I judge you guilty of murder and high treason. In mine own name I condemn you. With mine own hand I take your life. Would you speak a final word?” - Catelyn, ASoS

The pale morning sunlight ran up and down his blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. “If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them,” he said, expecting one last curse. - Jon, ADwD

Arya is one of the Starkiest Starks of the whole lot. She is also the only Stark to actually have the Stark look. She is stubborn and determined to do things the Stark way. She often uses her father’s advice to guide her way.

Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“ - Arya, aGoT

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms.- Arya, AGoT

Whenever her father had condemned a man to death, he did the deed himself with Ice, his greatsword. “If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him go look him in the face and hear his last words,” she’d heard him tell Robb and Jon once. - Arya, ACoK

Now there are theories that it is future Bran who was communicating with Arya through the weirwood at Harrenhal, but she does gain strength from her father’s words when she prays to the Old Gods.

Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice. “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said. “But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.” “You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you.” - Arya, ACoK

And while Arya is travelling incognito, GRRM keeps her connected to the North, house Stark and the Northern plot. She starts her journey from KL with a NW brother Yoren. She’s disguised as a boy like Danny Flint, Manderly requests a song about brave Danny Flint at Ramsay’s wedding with ‘Arya’. In the Riverlands, Arya’s plot intersects with her father’s bannermen, she participates in the capture of Harrenhal for house Stark and is there for Roose Bolton’s war council. She meets both Roose Bolton and Aenys Frey – our antagonists in Winterfell facing off against Stannis in ADwD. She meets Robett Glover – who is currently in White Harbor - when she lets him out of the dungeons. She gets Jaqen to help her father’s men.

“Vargo Hoat’s come back with prisoners. I saw their badges. There’s a Glover, from Deepwood Motte, he’s my father’s man. The rest too, mostly.” All of a sudden, Arya knew why her feet had brought her here. “You have to help me get them out.” – Arya, ACoK

Arya looked. She knew all of her father’s men. The three in the grey cloaks were strangers. Arya, AGoT

Twin towers. Sunburst. Bloody man. Battle-axe. The battle-axe is for Cerwyn, and the white sun on black is Karstark. They’re northmen. My father’s men, and Robb’s. - Arya, ACoK

Harwin?” Arya whispered. It was! Under the beard and the tangled hair was the face of Hullen’s son, who used to lead her pony around the yard, ride at quintain with Jon and Robb, and drink too much on feast days. He was thinner, harder somehow, and at Winterfell he had never worn a beard, but it was him—her father’s man. Arya, ASoS

“I bet there are Winterfell men too.” Her father’s men, the Young Wolf’s men, the direwolves of Stark. - Arya, ASoS

Arya is also involved in betrothals/marriage – first to Elmar Frey and then married off to Ramsay Bolton to hold the North. As a side note, her connection to all these bastards is indeed interesting - Elmar Frey, Ramsay Bolton, Gendry and Jon Snow. Is GRRM trying to say something here?

We now have the Northerners and Freys that Arya sees in Harrenhal transposed to Winterfell and ‘her father’s men’ rising up for Arya Stark.

Now, we can speculate and assume that these Northerners would have done the same for the other Starks, but that’s not the point here. In the books, GRRM has written this story to revolve around Arya. The mountain clans are marching for ARYA. The Northern houses are fighting alongside Stannis for ARYA. When lady Barbrey Dustin points out the anger of the Northmen at the treatment of ‘Valiant Ned's precious little girl’ she is talking about ARYA.

GRRM has Stannis wanting to rescue Arya for Jon. He has Mance trying to rescue Arya for Jon. He has Jon breaking his vows and dying trying to rescue Arya. A large part of what drives this plot forward is that it’s Arya, and her special relationship with Jon Snow influences a lot of what is happening south of the wall. The story only happens this way with Arya in the North. And that’s why it’s Arya’s story and not that of any other Stark. Superimposing this or that Stark in place of Arya to make a case for why they would be leader of the North makes no sense. GRRM writing in the marriage of Arya Stark to hold the North makes the case for why Arya is important to the North.

So, Arya has actively helped free Northmen in the Riverlands, engaged with important Northerners and Freys at Harrenhal and drives the plot to take down the Boltons in the North. With her leadership skills, her ability to wield a weapon and fight, looking like Ned, following in Ned’s footsteps and advice, her fierce personality, her loyalty to bannermen, her desire for justice and to help the weak and powerless, her huge direwolf - she would be like the Kings in the North of yore.  I think the Northerners will be fine with Arya Stark being the Stark in charge.

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Arya and Nymeria

“What if the wolves come?” “Yield,” Arya suggested - Arya, ACoK

The direwolves are an important part of the books, and an important aspect of the Starks.They are as much a part of the Starks as Dany’s dragons are a part of her. They cannot be ignored as unimportant pets who will end up serving no purpose.

“He is part of you, Robb. To fear him is to fear you.”  - Catelyn, ASoS

Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him - Jon, ADWD

“Part of you is Summer, and part of Summer is you. You know that, Bran.” - Bran, ACoK

“Wolves and women wed for life,” Haggon often said. “You take one, that’s a marriage. The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.” - Varamyr, ADWD

You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord…The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. -  Bran, AGoT

“Roose Bolton has Lord Eddard’s daughter. To thwart him White Harbor must have Ned’s son … and the direwolf. The wolf will prove the boy is who we say he is, should the Dreadfort attempt to deny him.“ - Davos, ADWD

GRRM has mentioned several times that they are important.

The Lannisters are always likening themselves to lions, for example, and their motto “Hear me roar” speaks of a certain way of looking at life. But I think for the Starks it goes a little bit beyond that, especially in this generation, with these direwolves. It’s more than just a handy metaphor with them - GRRM, interview

"Wolves have been part of European folklore, of which America's descended, going back thousands of years. In Rome, Romulus and Remus -- there's always been this relationship between wolves and men." That relationship is seen time and again in Martin's series, and it's one that will Martin says will continue as the last two books are eventually released. Arya's wolf, Nymeria, in particular, will play an important role. "You know, I don't like to give things away." says Martin, a grin spreading across his face. "But you don't hang a giant wolf pack on the wall unless you intend to use it." - GRRM interview

The direwolves are important especially for Arya whose theme is ‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’ and there are constant mentions of the pack in her POV chapters. Nymeria is an alpha, a leader of her pack like Arya is a leader of hers.

“She says there’s this great pack, hundreds of them, mankillers. The one that leads them is a she-wolf, a bitch from the seventh hell.” - Arya, ACoK

Throughout ACoK and ASoS, Arya mentions the wolves in the Riverlands. They appear to be just ahead of her or behind her. In her chapters there are mentions of wolves eating people, of Roose going wolf hunting. It’s almost like the wolves are traveling with her. They even help her escape – the wolf howl giving the signal – from harrenhal. And it’s possible the pack was picking off Roose Bolton’s riders chasing Arya because they were following right behind.

She could hear the sound of her own breath, and the wolves as well, a great pack of them now. They are closer than the one I heard in the godswood, she thought. They are calling to me. - Arya, ACoK

Once, from the crest of a ridge, she spied dark shapes crossing a stream in the valley behind them, and for half a heartbeat she feared that Roose Bolton’s riders were on them, but when she looked again she realized they were only a pack of wolves. She cupped her hands around her mouth and howled down at them, “Ahooooooooo, ahooooooooo.” When the largest of the wolves lifted its head and howled back, the sound made Arya shiver.   - Arya ASoS

Nymeria keeps amassing this huge wolf pack and Arya being a strong warg can sense this

She was no little girl in the dream; she was a wolf, huge and powerful, and when she emerged from beneath the trees in front of them and bared her teeth in a low rumbling growl, she could smell the rank stench of fear from horse and man alike. - Arya, ASoS

She dreamed of wolves most every night. A great pack of wolves, with her at the head. She was bigger than any of them, stronger, swifter, faster. And her brothers and sisters were with her, many and more of them, fierce and terrible and hers. - Arya, ASoS

In her wolf dreams she was swift and strong, running down her prey with her pack at her heels. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

The wolf dreams also helps Arya connect to Bran, Jon and Rickon. We see Ghost able to sense the other direwolves and Bran trying to communicate with Jon.

Nymeria is a grey wolf and the stark sigil is a grey wolf on a white background.

 “The rain had washed the guard’s blood off her fingers, she wore a sword across her back, wolves were prowling through the dark like lean grey shadows, and Arya Stark was unafraid.” - Arya, ACoK

“Arya had her father’s eyes, the grey eyes of the Starks.” - Reek, ADwD

What’s in a name? I have already mentioned in another post, the symbolism of the names for the direwolves and them being an indication of the future for the Starks. Arya’s direwolf is named Nymeria – a Rhoynish warrior queen who led her people to safety. Something that Arya may well do in the future when the North is under attack from the Others.

More importantly, Nymeria in Dorne changed the customs and rules of house Martell to follow those of Rhoynar and allowed for female rulers. Nymeria herself was the first female leader and was followed by her daughter. Nymeria changed the norm for Dorne and we could see the same happening with Arya Stark in the North.

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Skills and Education

Look with your eyes, Syrio had said, listen with your ears.- Arya, ACoK

Education at Winterfell:

Arya was mainly taught by Septa Mordane and received the same education as Sansa. She would have been taught history and about the Faith by the Septa, she can read and write, and is good with sums. She’s better than Sansa at managing a household. She can ride a horse like a Northman and is an excellent swimmer. She knows some high Valyrian. Besides the Septa, Arya also hangs around Ned Stark when he is teaching the boys. Many of his words of wisdom that she remembers is from when he is teaching the boys. She mingles with her father’s men, the cooks, the stable boys etc.

Kings Landing:

Water Dancing style of swordfighting from Syrio Forel.

Harrenhal:

Being incognito allows Arya to move around like a mouse or the ghost of Harrenhal and observe and learn things. She is privy to Roose Bolton’s war council and listens to them discuss the Northern campaign against the Lannisters. We get the first inkling of the Red Wedding in these chapters between Roose and the Freys.

Arya observes the different people, analyzes their movements and figures out how to approach them.

The night she was caught, the Lannister men had been nameless strangers with faces as alike as their nasal helms, but she’d come to know them all. You had to know who was lazy and who was cruel, who was smart and who was stupid. You had to learn that even though the one they called Shitmouth had the foulest tongue she’d ever heard, he’d give you an extra piece of bread if you asked, while jolly old Chiswyck and soft-spoken Raff would just give you the back of their hand. - Arya, ACoK

And as lords and ladies never notice the little grey mice under their feet, Arya heard all sorts of secrets just by keeping her ears open as she went about her duties. Pretty Pia from the buttery was a slut who was working her way through every knight in the castle. The wife of the gaoler was with child, but the real father was either Ser Alyn Stackspear or a singer Lord Lefford made mock of ghosts at table, but always kept a candle burning by his bed. Ser Dunaver’s squire Jodge could not hold his water when he slept. The cooks despised Ser Harys Swyft and spit in all his food. Once she even overheard Maester Tothmure’s serving girl confiding to her brother about some message that said Joffrey was a bastard and not the rightful king at all. “Lord Tywin told him to burn the letter and never speak such filth again,” the girl whispered. - Arya, ACoK

She aids in the escape of the near hundred Northmen imprisoned in the dungeons and even Roose is impressed enough to make her his cupbearer. And the next time, she conceives of, plans and executes their entire escape all by herself. She plans for the logistics – weapons, transportation, people, travel route, what to wear.  She makes sure she is warmly dressed, takes the map from Roose’s chamber, uses her position of cupbearer to manipulate several men,  manipulates Gendry into escaping with her, takes down the guard and leads them away. It’s an endeavor that showcases her intelligence, cunning, determination, ability to strategize and lead.

Arya also shows a lot of restraint and keeps her secrets. She doesn’t trust the Glovers or any of the Northmen in Harrenhal - and considering the Red Wedding, it’s a good decision.

Their captors permitted no chatter. A broken lip taught Arya to hold her tongue. Others never learned at all. - Arya, ACoK

Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. - Arya, ACoK

On the road Arya had felt like a sheep, but Harrenhal turned her into a mouse. She was grey as a mouse in her scratchy wool shift, and like a mouse she kept to the crannies and crevices and dark holes of the castle, scurrying out of the way of the mighty.- Arya, ACoK

Braavos:

Arya’s education here is not limited to killing for the Faceless Men. She is also educated in poisons and languages. She improves on her high Valyrian and is now fluent in Braavosi and other Essosi languages. She learns acting/mummery. Not showing emotions on one’s face, detecting emotions in another person.

“A man does not need to be a wizard to know truth from falsehood, not if he has eyes. You need only learn to read a face. Look at the eyes. The mouth. The muscles here, at the corners of the jaw, and here, where the neck joins the shoulders.” He touched her lightly with two fingers. “Some liars blink. Some stare. Some look away. Some lick their lips. Many cover their mouths just before they tell a lie, as if to hide their deceit. Other signs may be more subtle, but they are always there. A false smile and a true one may look alike, but they are as different as dusk from dawn. Can you tell dusk from dawn?”

Arya nodded, though she was not certain that she could. “Then you can learn to see a lie… and once you do, no secret will be safe from you.”  - Arya, AFFC

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People skills

“I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.” - Sansa, ACoK

Arya’s ability to make friends wherever she goes highlights her people skills. And Arya is able to communicate and connect with people from all walks of life.

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. - Sansa, AGoT

She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children., Arya, AGoT

Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“ - Arya, AGoT

Cat had made friends along the wharves; porters and mummers, ropemakers and sailmenders, taverners, Brewers and bakers and beggars and whores - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

Her girls were nice as well; Blushing Bethany and the Sailor’s Wife, one-eyed Yna who could tell your fortune from a drop of blood, pretty little Lanna, even Assadora, the Ibbenese woman with the mustache. They might not be beautiful, but they were kind to her - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

She’s also loyal to her pack. She doesn’t betray Jon even to her father. She helps free her father’s men. Despite Gendry talking of leaving Lommy or Weasel behind, she refuses. And despite the odds, she tries to help Gendry.

It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that they had Gendry. Even if he was stubborn and stupid, she had to get him out. She wondered if they knew that the queen wanted him. - Arya, ACoK

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Importance of being a Warg/Skinchanger

She was the night wolf, no scraps of skin could frighten her. - Arya, ADwD

Since this is a fantasy series, magic is a big part of the story with a magical existential apocalyptic threat on the horizon. The North is the first bastion facing this threat. Jon and Dany both have magical pets and prophetic dreams. Bran is the 3ER. They are leaders or will become leaders by the end. Arya is a strong warg/skinchanger. Apart from Jon and Bran, she’s the only other Stark to use these abilities so far. As GRRM as indicated, having a direwolf is going to be useful in battle – we are going to be seeing direwolves involved in the battle for Winterfell for example. Arya is able to warg Nymeria from all the way over in Braavos. She skinchanges cats and sees through their eyes, when she is blind. She is deft with a sword, knife and decent with a bow and arrow (she could be better now using her FM senses). She would be an effective fighter to have against the Others and her warging skills could prove useful in battle.

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Succession

I’m not a lady, Arya wanted to tell her, I’m a wolf. - Arya, ASoS

And finally we come to succession. This is the hardest part and entirely speculation and we need the next book to get an inkling of where GRRM is heading towards. I am also basing all of this on Hibberd more or less confirming that King Bran on the Iron Throne is GRRM’s ending.

So of the true born Starks, Arya is pretty much last in line. With the inclusion of Robb’s will, we have 5 Starks left. Bran is the rightful heir to the North. Taking him out of the running, leaves Jon, Rickon, Sansa and Arya. Assuming Jon ends up North of the wall – in his dreams the Old Kings in the North in the crypts reject him, maybe foreshadowing that he doesn’t belong in Winterfell - that leaves Rickon, Sansa and Arya.

As for Sansa, again there is a plot significant reason for why GRRM has put an obstacle in her path, allowing for Arya to jump the queue. Sansa is currently married to Tyrion Lannister, a marriage that cannot be easily annulled (With an enemy regime in KL) or ignored like the show did. Robb Stark has most likely disinherited/removed her from the line of succession and named a legitimized Jon Stark his heir and Lord of Winterfell. If he has the support of the Northern houses who want an experienced, older Stark to lead them, Jon Stark could well be the next KITN over Rickon Stark. I don’t think a 7 year old Rickon would object to Jon in charge. So that makes it Jon Stark, Rickon Stark and Arya Stark.

Does Rickon have to die for Arya to become Wardeness of the North? It’s possible Rickon dies, but it’s also possible he doesn’t.  It could be that Rickon does not want to lead the North – by the end of the book, he would be 8 or 9. Of course there’s the argument of a regent doing the job for Rickon until he’s ready. Or, he could just give way to his sister because he wants to. Something similar to Aemon refusing the throne and it passing to his younger brother Aegon.

Or we could have the traditional situation where Rickon becomes lord of Winterfell as next in line, while it’s Arya who is involved in running the day to day affairs. However, that would very much be status quo - with Rickon at WF and Bran down south in KL, it would be men ending up in positions of power everywhere once again, except maybe Dorne. If this happens, then Arya would be a leader of the North, but the Stark line would continue with the male line.  

It’s possible Jon Stark as King could change things for the North. Jon treats the spearwives the same as the brothers of the NW, he respects Val’s abilities, he trusts in Alys Karstark. If Rickon refuses the mantle, it could very well be that Jon Stark relinquishes his position to his favorite person ever, Arya Stark, to be the next Wardeness of the North.  Thus paving the way for Arya Stark to be the first female leader of the North like her hero Nymeria in Dorne.

It would be fitting for the character who introduced Jon Snow to equal rights for women.

“The Lannisters are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equal in honor to the king’s.”

“The woman is important too!” Arya protested. - Arya, AGoT

Could King Jon reverse Sansa’s disinheritance after her marriage is annulled when KL is in friendly hands? Sure. But we don’t know how the Sansa/LF/Vale group will react to Jon as KITN and whether they will mount a challenge in Sansa’s name. And if Jon has to choose between Sansa and Arya as to whom he wants in charge of Winterfell, we know who it is he will think is more capable and will always choose.

I do think Winterfell succession will not be as clearcut as many Stark fans are hoping. Too many factions supporting the different Starks. GRRM loves to write about dysfunctional families and the Starks are not anything special in that regard. TWoW will tell us of whether there will be any kind of Stark civil war.

Is Arya too young for all this? I predict that by the time we get to the end of the books, about 5 years would have gone by. At 14, Arya would still need a regent – one of the many lords of the houses in the North. But I think considering her experiences, skillsets, a huge direwolf, Ned Stark’s wisdom and strong connections to the North, she will be an able leader. As GRRM said,

“[Arya is] older than some of the 40-year-olds in the book.” - GRRM

Either way, whether she gets Winterfell or not, Arya will end up as a leader in the North. Either she rules for Rickon and takes care of the day to day responsibilities or she does so in her own right as Lady of Winterfell/Wardeness of the North. She’s not going anywhere or sailing off on a boat. The show’s ending makes absolutely no sense for a character yearning for home in 5 books after going on the nightmare ‘adventure’ from hell. She will be in the North, in Winterfell, being a leader and continuing Ned Stark’s legacy.  She will counsel her brothers and build and her people will love her just like they loved her father.

So in conclusion, I think there is enough story, character build up, characterization and set up for Arya to go North and take over as a leader of house Stark to face the threat of the Others along with Bran, Jon, Dany and Tyrion.

[m1smatched-starsigns]

☀️ my boy Hawkfrost?

what about my Blood and Water series from Hawkfrost's pov? There are only two changes to kick off the AU but they're important:

Feathertail returns from the journey instead of Stormfur.

I never read A Shadow in RiverClan so throw everything that happens in that book out the window.

(before proceeding, please note that the last ‘act’ here contains some spoilers for part three of Blood and Water!! if you want to avoid those, stop reading after Tallstar passes away.)

Hawkfrost and Feathertail/Stormfur have never been close. After the trauma that they went through thanks to Tigerstar, none of them has ever thought it wise to interact beyond small talk on border patrols. And besides that, Feather/Storm are pretty protective of each other; it's almost impossible to catch one of them alone.

But Hawkfrost is bored. He's a strong warrior and well-liked considering his parents and above all he's ambitious, but Leopardstar and Mistyfoot are both healthy enough that it's pointless to wait for one of them to drop dead. When Feathertail returns from the journey sans Stormfur, Hawkfrost notices a shift in Feathertail; there's a bitterness about her, a darkness about her.

Which is to be expected! Again, trauma. But it interests Hawkfrost because he's never noticed it before. Their Clanmates have always treated Feathertail well for as long as Hawkfrost has been around. As a matter of fact they seem downright fond of her, like the Featherpaw that they held prisoner in TigerClan was a totally different cat. Hawkfrost hears the name Silverstream mentioned a lot and he's started putting pieces together:

Now that she's grown Feathertail looks like her mother, even acts like her mother at times, and he gets the idea that RiverClan sees her as Silverstream 2.0. They miss Silverstream so much that they even forget the fact that Graystripe is her father (which is a little bit harder to do with Stormfur seeing as he favors his father).

Hawkfrost's interest is piqued; there's more to pretty, polite Feathertail than he believed. Now that Stormfur isn't around to play bodyguard, Hawkfrost is free to be as bold as he wants.

So he starts talking to Feathertail when she's alone, which is startlingly often. He knows that trout is her favorite fish so he usually catches a fresh one and brings it with him, hoping to disarm her. Either the conversation flows easily or he immediately delves into the deep stuff; whatever will catch her the most off guard and open her up so that Hawkfrost can peer at the darkness inside her, prod at old wounds that never healed properly so they fester and ooze.

He doesn't expect her to do the same to him; she asks how he feels about Sasha leaving them in RiverClan, how he feels about Mothwing becoming more and more distant toward him, and if he wonders what his Clanmates whisper about when they think he can't hear them. He doesn't expect her to point out the similarities between them.

Hawkfrost is bored and Feathertail is interesting. Hawkfrost is calculating but Feathertail is observant and surprisingly self-aware. He doesn't mean for his poking and prodding to turn into a game but it does, and Hawkfrost doesn't know how to admit defeat.

They continue with their morbid, unspoken game throughout the journey. Their Clanmates think these two weird cats are just flirting; except for Mistyfoot, who was crushed when her best friend died and was willing to go to war for her kits. Stonefur died protecting those kits from Tigerstar, and Mistyfoot won't let Feathertail die at the paws of Tigerstar's manipulative son. She starts pulling Feathertail away from him; Hawkfrost will eventually have to do something about that meddlesome deputy.

But for now they reach the lake and together, Hawkfrost and Feathertail find a new camp. It's perfect. It looks like things are on the up and up for the Clans.

Until Tigerstar starts whispering in his ear.

Until Tallstar's death and final order spark a civil war in WindClan.

Hawkfrost looks between Mudclaw, who was Tallstar's devoted deputy for moons, and Onewhisker, who is Firestar's personal friend, and Hawkfrost thinks it is easy to see who the rightful leader of WindClan is. But he has heard the stories of TigerClan and Bonehill and Leopardstar's darkest hour as RiverClan's leader.

He thinks he can use this civil war to RiverClan's advantage.

“How does Onewhisker’s leadership affect RiverClan?” Feathertail demands, when Hawkfrost shares his thoughts with her.

“How did my father’s leadership affect the entire forest?” Hawkfrost retorts. “WindClan has been allied with ThunderClan for a generation. Onewhisker is a personal friend of Firestar’s. If they don’t merge Clans then that only leaves one other option: Onewhisker will do everything he can to destroy their friendship to prove his independence, and that sort of desperation starts wars. If WindClan wants a new ally, what leader is weak enough to fall for it?”

Feathertail knows about TigerClan and Bonehill and Leopardstar's darkest hour more personally than anyone else. He can see the conflict in her eyes.

She returns to camp without pledging her loyalty to Mudclaw's rebellion. Hawkfrost knows that she can turn around and tell Mistyfoot exactly what he's planning; it's a calculated risk. He knows how she resents Leopardstar, resents RiverClan, and he hopes that outweighs her moral code.

It doesn't. She tells Mistyfoot about the rebellion. Curiously though, when Mistyfoot leads a patrol of warriors in support of Onewhisker, Feathertail isn't present. He doesn't see her at all, until,

Mudclaw is killed by a falling tree, a clear sign from StarClan. Hawkfrost sneaks out of camp to clear his head and plan his next move. Feathertail finds him.

"Mudclaw died. Your plan failed. What will you do next?"

After that stunt she pulled, Hawkfrost can't trust Feathertail enough to admit that Mudclaw becoming WindClan's leader is only a setback; sure he would have an easy allegiance when it came time for him to make a move for RiverClan's leadership, but Hawkfrost can still bet on Onestar wanting to make allegiances with anyone other than Firestar. It's not like he would really need Mudclaw's help assassinating Mistyfoot, anyway.

"Pray that Leopardstar learned her lesson a long time ago about allying with other leaders. Maybe StarClan will take pity on us all."

Feathertail's eyes flash again, and she breaks their gaze. Good. She sided with Mistyfoot this time but she's still conflicted. There's still hope that when the time comes and Hawkfrost really needs Feathertail's support, he'll have it.

Because as much as Feathertail hates RiverClan, as lost and confused as she is without Stormfur to reassure her, Feathertail has everyone wrapped around her paw. She's perfect Silverstream's perfect daughter. When Feathertail chooses to speak up they listen to her, even Leopardstar; even cats from other Clans. She's so consumed by bitterness and depression that she has no idea, the sway that she holds.

Tigerstar whispers in his ear and says that Feathertail cannot be allowed to realize this power. She will jeopardize all of their plans. She is a threat to everything that Hawkfrost has worked so hard for; respect, admiration, Hawkstar. If he has only one threat, then it is her.

So be it. Hawkfrost loves to play games and he doesn't know how to admit defeat. Either Feathertail will stand beside him or she will have to kill him, and Hawkfrost finds this so fitting, so poetic, that it is Tigerstar's son versus Graystripe's daughter. The stars themselves couldn't have orchestrated a better rematch.

Feathertail is in for the fight of her life.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Ten Into The Fog (Part 30)

He picks her up, her mostly limp and battered body. 

The stench of paint is so heavy it is choking even to him. 

He holds Azula to his chest and strokes her hair. “It’s going to be alright.” He insists. Though, it this point it is all for him. Azula is not quite coherent anymore, she probably can’t hear him. “You’re going to be alright.” He says again, because that is the only thing that keeps him going. But he isn’t so sure about that; her face is red and puffy, almost unrecognizably so. But he knows that face. He would know it anywhere. He knows those eyes and has seen that fear in them so many times. So, so many times. 

But he’d rather see that fear than a glossy vacancy.

She gestures towards Mai. “I’ll come back for her.” He promises. Although he isn’t sure if he means it. She has a better chance of waiting it out until help can return than Azula does. His poor, pitiable, Azula who has gone through way too much already. 

Who is still going through too much.

He wonders how much more she will be able to handle before she just can’t do it anymore. 

Her throat is just as swollen and there is only a little whistle of breath that escapes equally puffed lips.

He made a mistake. 

A dreadful mistake. 

And for it he deserves to watch her die.

But she doesn’t deserve death. 

Not for his mistake. 

She loves him and she is suffering for it. Sometimes he thinks that it would have been better if he had hated her. This wouldn’t hurt so much if he did. She would be safer if he didn’t love her. 

He can see it in her eyes, in that fading flicker of awareness. She is scared…downright terrified. And he thinks that she knows that she is dying. And she is looking at him, as she always has. It is a pleading look–probably more directed at the fates and whatever they hold for her. She is looking at him…to him for protection now that she can’t protect herself.

She probably feels weak, helpless, foolish, useless. It is how she was raised. 

But so close to death and for the second time in such a short span of time, how can anyone blame her for her dread.

He squeezes her hand–it feels so small in his own. She is too weak to squeeze back. 

He hustles over to the satomobile. “Well what are you waiting for!?” He shouts as soon as the door slams. “Hurry up, she’s dying.” She shudders in his arms and the vehicle lurches forwards. They are accelerating well over that which is safe. It doesn’t matter, Azula is already not safe. Even well away from the fumes she is grasping and clawing at her throat. 

Perhaps he is being a little rough with her, but she won’t stop clawing even when he tells her to stop, that she’ll only hurt herself. At this point he is sure that there is no thought and logic to her gestures. Azula is barely there; this is a body trying to keep itself alive. These are almost involuntary flailings. 

He grabs her by both wrists and holds them still while her feet kick in this fruitless struggle for air. Her neck is bleeding lightly where her nails had been scratching. 

She can’t cry. 

She can only utter these horrid wheezes. 

The hospital isn’t too far from the factory district. A wise choice considering how many fatal accidents have probably come from these things; all of this new technology that people don’t know how to use. All of these machines that require precautions that have yet to be discovered. 

“You’re going to be okay.” He promises Azula again. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”  He doesn’t blame her for the skepticism in those frightened eyes. Because he already has let something happen to her. He has let many things happen to her, even if she can’t remember them. 

The driver’s side door opens and he hears talking. Distracting, useless blabbering that he doesn’t have time for. And yet he hesitates. 

He looks the hospital and hesitates.

 He is torn between two things that he loves. But decidedly this is more important. She is more important, much more.

He takes a deep breath and, storking her hair–she has always loved that–he carries her into the hospital. They see him, they recognize him but they don’t swam him yet. “Let me see her when she wakes up.” That is all that he is asking for now.  “Just let me see her when she wakes up.”

There are things that he needs to tell her. That she needs to know.

She needs to know that he loves her. That she is perhaps the only thing that he has the capacity to love. 

They don’t oblige him. 

Why would they?

Zuko looks him in the eye with a renewed sense of loathing. The cuffs are slapped around his wrists. He catches one more glimpse of Azula’s limp body as they carry her off before they turn him around and slam him against a police satomobile with a gruff, “former Fire Lord Ozai, you are under arrest…”

[sortasirius]

“Unity” and the Broken Boys

BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME

This is....one of the best episodes in the show.  Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.

First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.

That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst.  Tbh Dean deserves it.

“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”

“The only way.  Our one shot.  Our Last chance.  You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”

“We don’t have to like it, alright?  But you and me, we gotta get it done.”

Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode.  She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck.  I love her.

Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad.  I love him eternally.  He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world.  Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it.  How do you support your child when their life is at stake?

“Come on man.  Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”

“It doesn’t matter how we feel!  You know what?  Stay.  Stay.  Someone has to be the grown up here.”

“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”

“He knows what he signed up for!”

“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”

“Jack’s not family.”

Y’all should have heard the noise I made.  What a fucking line.

“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you.  He’s not like Cas.  He’s just not.”

“I’m- I’m ready.”

You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes.  You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them?  It’s unthinkable.

Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.

“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh?  I woulda done the same.”

AMARA

First of all, LOVE this structure.

Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic.  Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened.  You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.

“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”

“That wasn’t you writing?”

“Ugh, not that part.  Gross.”

What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along.  They HAVE free will, just not total free will.  Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write.  Obviously, this comes into play later. 

I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance.  I also think that in particular will come into play.

“Balance.  Something we’ve never tried before.  Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world.  True balance.  The way it was always meant to be.  But you can’t.  You only care about your pleasure, your story.  Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”

“Villains get all the best lines.”

We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable.  He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything.  He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.

“You can’t hold me here forever.”

“I can hold you long enough.”

DEAN

Pain is the name of the game in this section homies.  Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s.  Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.

Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals.  Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.

Adam.  The first man.  And Seraphina.  The angel.

“My old lady.  She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”

Yeah okay.  Volume at 100 I get it lmao.

But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons.  The theme of protecting the children strikes again.

“Killing God is your plan?”

“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”

This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.

Adam’s rib.

And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?

It’s fine, that’s fine.  I’m fine with that.

“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive.  Not really.  You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free.  But now?  Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs.  And that’s, that’s because of you.  So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack.  Thank you.”

I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important:  Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said.  He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it?  He can’t stand for that.

And:

Dean has finally pushed through the barrier.  He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore.  This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.

SAM

Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.

The box, the inscription, the door.

Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.

And there it is.  The Empty.

It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place.  For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”

This has always been the game, since season 13.  This is the longest of long games.

Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.

He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.

“You hear that?  Dean, brought to the edge of doubt.  His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end.  And poor Sam, always gotta know everything.  Can’t leave well enough alone.  This is my ending, my real ending.”

The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.

Hmm...what did I say during 15x05?  Oh yeah, this.

And:

Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom.  His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.

Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas?  I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.

Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates.  He can’t lose Cas.  But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.

“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”

“We always have a choice!”

You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.

And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.

“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants!  I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck.  In a heartbeat!”

“What about me?”

“You’d trade me?”

“Chuck has to die.  He has to!  Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”

“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me.  My entire life, you’ve protected me.  From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything.  I didn’t always like it, you know?  But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on.  It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true.  So please, put the gun away.  Just put it away.  We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me.  We always do.”

Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come.  Because fuck.  After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John.  John.  On a par with Lucifer.

Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other.  Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other.  But this?  This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad.  This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time.  Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.

(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)

Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices.  And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.

“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday.  You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”?  They did what they were told.  But not you.  Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:

Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell.  Every one told him the same thing.  And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different.  Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?

And there’s our endgame people.  Laid out on the line.

But we ain’t done yet, fam.

We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:

So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18.  I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.

What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.

[entishramblings]

It’s Not That Bad [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: I’m so sorry I have not been writing as often. I’ve had zero time. But anyWaYS...here is a fic that has been requested by someone who has always been into my writing so thank you for supporting me and here is a fic for you! Additionally, I did some research on herbs and stuff so I could make this at least a little accurate!

Request: @quilledinkpen — Hellooo i hope you're having a good day ^-^ I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader? Something like she's travelling with the fellowship and is kinda the unspoken "mom" of the group, like she's always doing her best to make sure everyone's safe, and reminding Pippin and Merry to be careful and stuff like that. Just an all-around motherly person lol (mainly to the Hobbits bc they're her babies but she looks after the other guys too) I think it'd be cute ^^ Thank you!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N), a healer, travels with the fellowship. She takes care of everyone and is basically “the mom friend.”

Word Count: 2, 510

Warnings: battle wounds that are kinda graphicish?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N) was a well known healer throughout all of Arda. Many traveled to her for treatment for life threatening ailments. But now, now it was her time to travel throughout the lands of Middle Earth in search of a salvation for all. A gruesome quest to destroy the evil ring of power had begun and someone well versed in natural apothecary was needed. (Y/N), of course, volunteered for this role for there was no one better suited than her. Besides, it was her duty to contribute to the survival of this world as she was one in it and relied heavily on what the earth produced. And if Sauron was to rule.....well, we all know where that would lead: no earth, no life, just darkness.

(Y/N) ruffled through her dark-brown leather satchel as she sifted through her healing herbs. Little pouches filled with athelas leaves, echinacea stalks, alder bark, valerian roots, and more piled inside the confinements of the fabric.

“Sam,” She called out. “Would you mind making hot tea for Frodo while I take care of Strider’s cut?”

The little hobbit ran over instantly and she passed him a couple pouches naming each one out loud, “Valerian root, dried chamomile pedals, and sycamore bark.” She then lowered her voice and leaned it, for it wasn’t anyone else’s business to hear. “It will help him sleep and deter the anxieties the ring bestows upon him.”

Sam nodded quickly and set to work as (Y/N) moved towards Aragorn who sat upon a large rock.

“Let me have a look.”

The dunedain rolled his eyes, “(Y/N), it is not that bad. Just a scratch.”

The young women sighed in annoyance and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a slash across his bicep. He was right—to an extent—it wasn’t terrible. He would not need stitches. However, it did need to be cleaned and wrapped for infections were nasty things.

(Y/N) started by pouring some alcohol over the wound; receiving a harsh hiss from the dunedain in response. She muttered a quick apology before continuing. The young woman ground athelas leaves into a fine paste and expertly smeared it onto the cut. She then unrolled gauze and placed it upon the wound. Lastly, she pulled white dressings from her satchel. She gingerly wrapped it around his arm, yet she was careful to still pull it taught as the goal was to keep the athelas paste in and bacteria out.

She stood up and brushed her hands off before placing them firmly on her hips. “See Strider, it takes only a couple minute.”

He grumbled at her comment but thanked her for the medical attention.

(Y/N) nodded quickly and went to check on the rest of the fellowship. She made her way to Boromir who was also sitting in rest. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Boromir, how are you doing? Any wounds?”

He seemed slightly startled at first for his mind had been elsewhere, but he looked up at her with a soft smile.

“I’m quite alright, My Lady.”

A light chuckled escaped her lips. “My friend, how many times must I tell you? It’s (Y/N), no lady of any sorts!”

He shook his head and grinned at her, “Well, my lady, I am doing quite fine.”

She let her eyes circle into the back of her head as the corner of her lip pulled into a smirk.

The healer turned and made her way to Gimli who was sharpening his axe.

“Gimli, I trust you are alright as I see you are already preparing for the next battle even though we just endured one.”

His gruff voice answered immediately, “Aye lassie! Those orcs can’t ensnare a dwarf that easily!!”

She laughed at his comment as Merry and Pippin came rushing up to her. As soon as she saw their faces she knew that the two mischievous hobbits wanted to claim her attention. She lowered herself down to their height as they flung themselves into her arms.

“Ahh my two hobbits! How did you fare in the battle?”

They pulled from her hug and began speaking at the same time.

“It was intensely scary but we were fierce!”

“Merry had hit one with a tree branch! It was quite magnificent!”

“Yes it was, I would have to admit! And Pip tripped another and he fell flat on his face!”

(Y/N) beamed at the two and giggled at their attempt to tell the story. As much as she was focused on caring for everyone, the hobbits cared for her—in another way that is. The four of them brought joy to her heart and glee to her spirit. Their innocence and appreciation of the simplest things brought happiness to her soul. They had offered her a welcomed visit to the shire at any time; telling her of the grand tour they would take her on. She had grown to look upon them as children for their smallness and way of perceiving life was similar so.

The two scampered off quickly, most likely to share their adrenaline filled story with Boromir, while (Y/N) did a final scan of the fellowship.

Her eyes soon rested on the elf. Legolas was off to a distance standing upon the rocky tundra. Something about his posture made her frown. His back was to her and his head seemed bowed, as if he was looking down at something. Furthermore, his one arm was pulled up at an awkward angle—strange, even for the elf. As the healer that she was, she was compelled to check on him.

(Y/N) weaved through the rocks until she was only a short distance from him.

“Legolas?” She questioned softly.

He immediately whipped around. His shirt fell to cover his form, but not before (Y/N) caught a glimpse of bright purple, red, and black. The young woman’s lips instantly parted in shock. She had seen many wounds in her life, on many people of many different races. However, it was not often that she had an elven patient with a wound like that. To state it simply, (Y/N) was worried—that looked bad, very bad. Legolas on the other hand was only flustered for he, an elf, had gotten snuck up on. He did not have great concern for the injury given that there were far more important things to worry about.

“Legolas,” (Y/N) stated firmly. “Lift your shirt.”

He sighed, “(Y/N), it’s not—“

She interrupted him, “Let me guess, ‘It’s not that bad?’” She shook her head, “You and Strider.”

She stepped forward and took the hem of his shirt in her hand. She cautiously lifted the fabric, not caring about the socially deemed scandalousness of the action—she was a healer after all.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath. A relatively large bruise stretched across his torso with a sizable cut in the center of it.

“By the Valar, Legolas!” She exclaimed with exasperation. “You should have come to me straight away!”

“(YN)—“

She cut him off again, “No. don’t ‘(Y/N)’ me. This is serious. It could be internal bleeding. I don’t care that you are an immortal elf, you can still die from this.”

The healer gently let her fingertips brush against his skin, tracing and examining the injury. He winced in pain at the contact and that did not escape (Y/N)’s attention.

“How did this happen exactly? I need every detail.”

Legolas groaned again when she grazed over the cut; and when he spoke it was with heavy breaths, “A harsh kick to the side into another orc....” (Y/N) hand pressed on the bleeding laceration and he hissed in pain before continuing to speak. “...who—who slashed downward.....with a jagged-edged blade that had a—a curved tip.

(Y/N) looked up at him with concern, his breathing was getting labored and that was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Alright, come on.” She ordered. The young woman practically dragged the reluctant elf back towards the group and pushed him down on a rock.

She knelt in front of him and, once again, ruffled through her satchel.

“Take your tunic off,” she commanded while pulling out various pouches and gauze dressings.

(Y/N) could feel all of the fellowships’ gazes on the two, which only intensified when Legolas removed his tunic. She could hear the hobbit’s hushed whispers and concerned tones for the wound was gruesome and ugly—probably the worst they have ever seen considering their simple lives.

Once she had all her supplies ready, she set to work.

(Y/N) was kneeling in-between Legolas’s legs while she studied the torn up, bloody, and bruised fresh for yet another time; it was imperative that she made a plan before starting.

During this examination, the young woman could not help but let her eyes wander across his chest and rippling muscles. The bends and curves of his form looked perfect against his pale complexion. He was incredibly toned and well built, even more so than humans. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him.

Additionally, battle scars of various shapes and sizes littered his body—which was expected given he was over 2,000 years old. Here, she took a moment to study them for if one really looked at a warriors scars their fighting style would be revealed. Many stretched across his being—specifically on his ribcage, sides, pecs, and abs—it was clear that he was way more reckless than he would like people to think. He was fast with his moves, going for the quickest way to an oppenent’s death, but that often left him exposed. No wonder he ended up with this terrible bruising gash. He lived up to the Mirkwood elf expectation—less wise and more fierce.

As (Y/N) realized that her mind had wandered too far off task, she cleared her throat and reached for the flask of liquor.

“This will sting,” she stated before pouring it over the broken flesh. As expected, a loud groan escaped his lips and his fists clenched around nothingness.

Carefully she dabbed the area with a cloth. (Y/N) then threaded a needle and began to sew his skin back together. The elf was stiff as he clenched his jaw and flexed his muscles—a natural reflex in this kind of situation. She continued to pull his skin taught so their was no more breakthrough bleeding. It seemed that he had gotten used to the sensation as she went given he began to relax. Next, she made a paste for the wound, much like Strider’s. However, she decided to use more than athelas leaves because this cut was more severe than the Ranger’s. (Y/N) ground up echinacea stalks and mixed in alder bark to soothe inflammation and fight infection. Gently she applied the blended mixture into his torso. Lastly, she wound gauze and dressings around his midsection in order to keep everything in place.

Much time had past given stitches took long; luckily, the fellowships’ concerned glances faded.

(Y/N) stood up from her position and it was then when she released just how close the two were. She stood between his legs, their faces inches apart. If it was anyone else, she wouldn’t have cared for she often had to be in such proximities with others as she was a healer. But this wasn’t anyone else, it was him.

“You—you should be fine now,” (Y/N) whispered. She cleared her throat and stepped backwards. “I will have to check on it every day and redo the bandages. And I advise you: no sudden movements, and no lifting heavy objects—like the hobbits.”

Legolas cracked a smile at that last comment. “Thank you, (Y/N). I truly appreciate your skill.”

“That is what I’m here for, is it not?” She adverted her eyes and kept her hands busy by gathering her supplies for she feared her expression would betray her.

Legolas put his tunic back on as he spoke, “I suppose it is, but nethertheless I thank you.”

......

As the days went on she continued to check Legolas’s wound. (Y/N) tried to make it more private by dragging him off to the side or away from the group, given that she suspected it was uncomfortable for him to undress everyday in front of inquiring eyes (aka the hobbits).

It was dusk when she crouched down to examine it once again.

“It is healing nicely,” She said. “A lot faster than I suspected, but I suppose that is because you are elven.” Her nervousness caused her to continue speaking when she did not wish to do so. “I mainly treat men....and dwarves. It is not often that I have a wounded elf at my door. Do you know an elf named Feren? I recall he said he was of Mirkwood Kin. I treated him once years ago for a busted leg when he strayed into northern territories.”

A small smirk crossed Legolas’s face, “Ahh so you are the beautiful healer who patched him up so well?”

(Y/N) felt heat creep up her face, “I—I would not say that—“

“Nonsense! He spoke of your beauty and skill many times, and he was not mistaken. I am just surprised that I have been lucky enough to gaze upon you and have you heal me.”

These words made (Y/N)’s gauze wrapping motions falter. “It—it is my job, Legolas.”

“Yet you go beyond your assignment and duty everyday. I see how you take care of us all, especially the hobbits. You truly have a noble heart.”

(Y/N) smiled softly and spoke in a teasing tone, “Well I suppose you are right—all you boys would be lost without me.”

A deep chuckled hummed in Legolas’s chest and the healer joined in with a bright laugh.

The giggles settled soon enough and Legolas spoke, his sentence quite abrupt. “How would you feel about coming to Mirkwood and living there as a healer once the ring is destroyed?”

Shocked, (Y/N) stuttered. “I—I am unsure. I don’t know if—“

“(Y/N)...” He interrupted. “I do not wish for the end of this journey to be the end of our acquaintance.”

The young woman looked down, “As I agree, but—“

“(Y/N),” he whispered.

Something about his tone made her freeze.

Ever so gently, he lifted her chin to force her to look at him. His voice was quiet as he spoke, “I—I don’t think you understand what I am trying to convey.”

Oh....

Now she understood.

The healer glanced at his lips which hovered near her own before biting her bottom one and locking gazes with him. Legolas of course noticed this and waisted no time. He pressed his mouth against hers and she instantly responded. Her hands slid up his bare chest, careful to avoid the wound on his torso, and then tangled themselves in his blonde locks. His muscular arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he focused on the taste of mint tea and fresh honey. The two moved their lips in sync and the world around them melted away. Suddenly, there was no quest, no fellowship, no responsibilities—only the two of them and the thudding of their hearts.

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @wellfuckmyexistence

Legolas tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you want to be tagged lmk!

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[zuko-always-lies]

So, question, because I see people saying it often that Iroh has the right to feel animosity towards Azula because she made fun of/derided Lu Ten's death (or something like that), but does she actually do that in that scene? Or does she express disdain for Iroh's reaction, which considering the culture could easily be interpreted as Iroh being the one to make light of it? (Pretty sure there's at least one instance in _Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ where one character absolutely annihilates an opposing force because his brother/father/friend dies, if we want a real-world example of the mentality. Or, like, all of _The Hagakure_.)

Does Azula call Lu Ten a coward for dying? Or does she say that Iroh is for not "getting justice" or revenge for his son's death? For not finishing the task and abandoning the cause Lu Ten died for?

Because one of these means Iroh's dislike could be justified (nevermind the fact that he wasn't present for this conversation, so if he knew about it, he would have only heard about it from Zuko). But the other is an angry/disappointed/disgusted child calling an adult out.

Good question! I think I should start by talking about what Zuko and Azula actually say about Iroh.

"The Western Air Temple"(featuring 13 year old Zuko!):

Iroh: (Iroh looks on, concerned) Prince Zuko, it's only been a week since your banishment. (Cut to a far back view shot of the 2) You should take some time to heal and rest. Zuko: (turns around and raises his voice) What else would I expect to hear from the laziest man in the Fire Nation? (Cut to a close up of Iroh's slightly appalled face as he looks down and sighs) The only way (Cut back to a frontal shot of uncle and nephew) to regain my honor is to find the Avatar. So I will.

"The Headband":

Zuko: (standing at the bars) You brought this on yourself, you know. We could have returned together. You could have been a hero! (Iroh turns a shade further away from Zuko.) You have no right to judge me Uncle. I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you're a fool for not joining me. (Iroh is silent.) You're not gonna say anything? (Enraged, he kicks a stool and bends a blast of fire at the wall.) Argh! You're a crazy old man! You're crazy, and if you weren't in jail, you'd be sleeping in a gutter!

Zuko says some pretty negative things about Iroh, right to Iroh's face!

Now, what negative things does 14 year old Azula say about Iroh? Surprisingly little, even though she clearly doesn't like him. She implicitly calls him a traitor a couple times(during times when he is, in fact, a traitor by all reasonable definitions), but never really explicitly does so. Beyond that, there's very little. This is the only thing I can think of:

Azula: So...I hear you've been to visit your Uncle Fatso in the prison tower. Zuko: (standing, incensed) That guard told you.

Which is actually way less harsh than what Zuko says about Iroh! If anything, Azula's behavior in the present suggests that she only rarely criticized, much less mocked Iroh's behavior to his face when she was younger.

Now let's turn to the meat of your question, "Zuko Alone." There are two scenes in that episode where Azula criticizes Iroh. The first comes before Lu Ten's death:

Ursa: "And for Azula, a new friend. She wears the latest fashion for Earth Kingdom girls." (As Ursa speaks, Azula picks up a doll wearing Earth Kingdom green. The Princess makes a face of disgust.) Azula: If Uncle doesn't make it back from war, then dad would be next in line to be Fire Lord, wouldn't he? (In the background, Zuko runs around practicing with his new dagger.) Ursa: (disappointed) Azula, we don't speak that way. It would be awful if Uncle Iroh didn't return. And besides, Fire Lord Azulon is a picture of health. Zuko: How would you like it if cousin Lu Ten wanted dad to die? Azula: I still think our dad would make a much better Fire Lord than (looking at the doll with disdain) his royal tea loving kookiness. (She holds out the doll and makes its head burst into flame. The screen flashes white and the flashback ends.

There are several things which seem to be driving Azula's actions here. The first is a reaction to the massive favoritism Iroh just showed toward Zuko. The second is a belief, no doubt inspired by Ozai's poisonous statements about his brother, that Ozai, who Azula idolizes, would make a better Firelord than Iroh. Finally, Azula is a confused child who is asking inappropriate questions because she's too young to understand proper boundaries. Nothing she says here is actually that serious, and I would expect a responsible adult(i.e. not Ursa) to either shrug it off, or to carefully reason with Azula in order to explain why what she is saying is problematic.

Now we turn to the other main scene, the one right after Lu Ten's death, and the one you probably actually wanted me to talk about:

Azula: (getting up and walking over to him) By the way, Uncle's coming home. Zuko: Does that mean we won the war? Azula: No. It mean's Uncle's a quitter and a loser. Zuko: What are you talking about? Uncle's not a quitter. Azula: Oh yes, he is. He found out his son died and he just fell apart. (leaning against a nearby pillar) A real general would stay and burn Ba Sing Se to the ground, not lose the battle and come home crying. Zuko: (angry) How do you know what he should do? (looking down, sadly) He's probably just sad his only kid is gone... forever.

You might note that, again, Azula doesn't say anything negative about Lu Ten. You've already noted that Iroh is thousands of miles away at the moment, so having him be "justified" in his hatred of Azula by a conversation he didn't hear doesn't make sense.

Azula is also very angry in this scene, quite possibly the angriest we ever see her at any point. That does suggest that she's taking what's happened, either Lu Ten's death or the abandonment of the siege, very personally. I don't know enough to comment specifically on this, but you are right in that there might be cultural background which specifically proscribes the achievement of vengeance as being of particular importance, and Azula is thus outraged that Iroh failed to fulfill his duty to his son.

But that not at the core of Azula's critique here. What Azula is attacking Iroh for is that he responded to a personal loss by abandoning his duty in the heat of battle, and she is 100% right on this, not only by the standards of Fire Nation cultural but also by the standards of modern western culture. Fun fact: Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis, and Robert E. Lee(screw the latter two, but that's another story) all suffered the loss of children they dearly loved in the middle of the American Civil War, yet none of them abandoned their duty. Archibald Roosevelt(another problematic figure) had two brothers die in WWII, yet he continued fighting on the front line. John W. Geary literally had his son die in his arms in the middle of battle, yet he continued commanding his unit well enough to prevail. Hell, we can even turn to Joseph Stalin here, to some extent.

Again, the core of what Azula says here is absolutely correct. Iroh is a "quitter" because he responded to Lu Ten's death by falling apart and abandoning the siege when it seemed on the brink of success, rather than continue the operation until victory. I don't think we need to go further than that to establish that Azula is entirely justified calling Iroh out here. And again, she doesn't criticize or mock Lu Ten at all, instead only attacking Iroh's reaction to Lu Ten's death.