#only reason I stopped was cause I ran out of credit

[lord-save-me]

No THEN you start watching weeks upon weeks of audiobooks till the point that you've forgot why you started watching doctor who as you spiral further into Torchwood content

yeah

[fiastomatocheek]

STILL GOT YOU EVEN WITHOUT THE RING

pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader

genre: domestic fluff, romantic comedy, slow burn, slice of life, tooth-rotting sweetness.

warnings: excessive fluff, marriage shenanigans, mild secondhand embarrassment, very sweet domestic scenes (may cause soft sighing), mentions of parenthood (baby care, toddler toys), luke panicking over nothing.

summary: one thing luke never takes off is his ring, unless it’s to bathe lucy or play a game. so when you find it sitting, almost too carelessly, on the bathroom sink one night, something about it feels… weird. not bad. just weird. luke never misplaces things like that. but instead of asking about it, you pocket the ring and decide to have a little fun.

fia’s note: okay so this totally wasn’t in my plan to write like at all but i found this little thing tucked away in the depths of my google docs (seriously, it was buried), and i thought… huh. why not finish it? i forgot how much i actually liked the vibe of it. there’s just something really fun about teasing luke, and once i got back into it, the words kinda wrote themselves. also! just want to say that the original spark for this came from a fic i read by @/rafedarling. some scenes and ideas here are inspired by her work, so all the love and credit for that brilliance. anyway, i hope you enjoy this little unexpected piece, it’s playful, a little soft, and very luke-coded.

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @smiley-roos

You were tired, achy in that full-body parenting way, but the hot water soothed every edge.

And that’s when you saw it.

Luke’s ring.

Just sitting there. On the edge of the sink.

Not in the drawer. Not on the little trinket tray you kept for moments like this. Not neatly tucked away like he always did when he had to take it off for a game or to bathe Luce when your hands were full.

Just… abandoned. Carelessly. Recklessly.

And something about that made you stop.

Not because you were mad, Luke was never careless with his ring. He was thoughtful in ways most men weren’t. He wore that ring like it was a second skin. Kept it on during interviews, on the team plane, even while chopping onions (and getting emotional, but that was another story).

He’d only ever take it off for two reasons, one is to avoid scratching Lucy’s delicate skin during bath time and two is for hockey games.

Even then, he handled it like it was breakable. Like it meant something beyond gold.

So to see it just sitting there, like he’d shrugged it off without a thought… it not with jealousy or fear. Just a strange kind of what happened here?

You stared at it for a moment. Then slowly, quietly, you picked it up, held it in your palm then you just slipped it into the pocket of your pajama pants.

He wouldn’t lose it. You’d never let that happen.

But he didn’t need to know that yet.

By the time you stepped out of the bathroom, Luke was sprawled across the bed. Luce sat on his chest in her footie pajamas, one sock halfway off and a tiny, soggy cracker clutched in her fist like it was treasure. She was mid-lecture, baby gibberish pouring from her mouth as she tapped her hands against his cheeks.

“Luce, Daddy’s in trouble,”

Luke murmured quietly to her, as if she were the only one who could understand.

“Mommy’s gonna be so mad.”

You smirked to yourself. So he did realize.

You didn’t say a word. Just padded across the room like you hadn’t heard anything, wrapped a towel around your shoulder, and began your usual nighttime routine at the vanity.

Luke was watching you like a man watching his life flash before his eyes.

You dabbed toner onto your cheeks, applied your moisturizer. Ran a brush through your hair, all while he squirmed under Lucy’s weight, pretending everything was fine.

He offered nothing. No apology. No confession. Just a really nervous silence.

When Lucy finally settled, thumb in her mouth and head drooping, you scooped her up and whispered goodnight after tucking her into the crib, and then you climbed into bed beside Luke, who was now unusually quiet and very still.

You reached for his left hand, tracing the bare spot where the ring should have been. Pretending not to notice about his missing ring.

“You know, babe,” you said thoughtfully,

“I read this story today. A woman found out her husband lost his wedding ring. She didn’t even yell. Just filed for divorce. Said it was a sign.”

Luke visibly stiffened.

His voice was strained. “That’s… harsh.”

You shrugged, still gently playing with his fingers.

“I mean, I guess when something meaningful just goes missing, it makes you question things.”

You could practically feel his heartbeat pick up.

He opened his mouth, probably to confess or explain, but you simply kissed his knuckles and whispered,

“Anyways, goodnight babe. It’s late.”

In the early morning, Luke was already an anxious mess.

You didn’t have to say a thing. He was already tearing through laundry baskets, peeking under the couch, and retracing his steps like a man who’d lost his passport on a travel day.

Lucy sat in her high chair chewing on banana slices while you nursed your tea and tried not to laugh.

You noticed he checked the pantry. Twice.

“Hey babe,” you said casually, so innocent. “Where’s your ring?”

Luke froze mid-step.

“My… uh. My ring?”

You blinked at him innocently. “Yeah. Your hand’s kinda… naked.”

“Oh… I just took it off for Luce’s bath last night,” he said too quickly.

“Didn’t wanna accidentally bruised her.”

“Totally understandable,” you said.

“Can you grab it? I have to take mine in to be cleaned this evening. Might as well bring yours too.”

He nodded stiffly. “Yea. Absolutely. Be right back.”

You sipped your tea. And he never came back with the ring.

By lunchtime, Luke had checked the fridge again.

Jack’s betrayal came just before dinner.

‘Jack: @You girl have mercy on my dumbass brother he really didn’t mean to lose it 😭😭😭’

You stared at the message and bit the inside of your cheek. So that’s what this had come to. Luke had gone to Jack for help. Not you. Jack. The human with zero ability to lie.

You didn’t respond.

Instead, once Lucy was asleep and the house was quiet, you called Luke into the living room.

“Luke Hughes, we need to talk.”

He looked like he might cry.

“I just want to understand,” you said, sitting across from him.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

Luke’s hands fidgeted in his lap.

“I didn’t mean to lose it. I swear. I thought I left it in my shorts pocket, and then I checked and it wasn’t there. I didn’t wanna stress you out, and—”

“I panicked! And then you said that thing about the divorce and I thought you knew and—”

You held up a hand.

And then, slowly, pulled the ring from your pajama pocket and held it up between two fingers.

His jaw dropped.

“You had it?”

You nodded. “Found it last night. Thought I’d let the drama play out.”

He buried his face in his hands. “You are so evil, babe”

You giggled, getting up to sit in his lap.

“You should’ve come to me. Not your brother.”

“I thought you’d be easier on me if I had backup!”

You snorted. “Since when do you need backup?”

“I don’t know!” he moaned.

“I’ve never lost anything important before.”

“You lost your car keys three times last week.”

“Yeah but this is the ring. You know the one thing that shows the world I’m yours,”

You slid it back onto his finger. “Well. Now it’s back where it belongs.”

He kissed your shoulder, arms wrapping around you tightly.

“You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“And Jack?”

“Oh, he’s not safe either.”

From upstairs, Lucy let out a soft wail.

“I’ll get her,”

Luke said quickly, pressing one last kiss to your cheek before jogging upstairs.

[imtryingbuck]

To Be Loved

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n realises her self worth. 

Word count: 2,831

Warnings: angst. angst. cheating (I’m sorry). self hatred. Sharon. forms of self harming. Steve and Sharon are scumbags. 

A/N: i was listening to Adele To Be Loved and this idea came to me

Masterlist

Everything was in their correct places, she made sure of it. Seven times. It had to be perfect. Today marked three years of marriage for her and Steve, instead of going out they both agreed to celebrate their anniversary at home with a home cooked meal, fine wine and slow music and to top it off with an intimate moment shared together in their bed.

The plan was perfect.

The house was perfect.

The dress she was wearing was perfect.

The meal smelted delicious as it cooked away in the oven.

The only thing now was for her to wait for her love to come home.

She sat at the dining chair watching as the clock on the over tick on by getting further away from the agreed upon time that he was supposed to arrive. Every time she rang him the call dropped straightaway, her messaged just staying on delivered. Fidgeting ever so often trying to smooth out the crinkles of her dark green dress that he told her to wear for their special occasion.

Two hours, still not home.

Three hours, still not home.

Fou- she finally gave up.

Emptying the plates full of now cold food, she turned off the radio, took her heels off and collapsed on the couch.

It had been a long time since she had cried, and that night she cried until her heart started to squeeze painfully.

She cried until sleep over took her weaken body.

She forgave him the next day when he got in at six o’clock that morning. He showed up with flowers and told her that he was sorry, something about a mission brief that ran way too long.

Though she didn’t necessarily believe him or his lie but she was just happy he was home so she never questioned him.

She plastered a fake smile and made out that she watched a sad movie and that was the reason for her make up - the same she took time in perfecting - was ruined, not the real reason for the dried mascara tear tracks running down her cheeks.

A week later she walked into the tower finding it strange that no one made their way to greet her like they always did before. She walked into Steve’s room to surprise him, when she got a surprise of her own.

Her husband of three years, the man that she had been with for six years, the man that she had been in love with for eight years was thrusting away like his life depended on it into a woman that she had been insecure about since she came back to work for SHIELD, the same woman that Steve had reassured her that she had no reason to worry or to be threatened by.

Sharon.

She had no idea how long she stood there for watching the scene in front of her until she watched them kiss, it was then and only then she stumbled backwards knocking into the door which caused a noise.

The headboard stopped violently banging against the wall, the mattress stopped squeaking and Steve’s face drained of all colour as he saw his wife catching him in the act of his betrayal.

“B-baby” he had the audacity to call her whilst still inside of another woman.

Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest as she forced her legs to take a step in front of the other, shaking as she pressed the elevator button her eyes stung as the tears threatened to break over the barrier.

The moment the silver shiny doors open she stepped in repeatedly hitting the close button just as Steve managed to make it around the corner.

This man who she had loved for eight years, the same man that she had just caught cheating had the audacity to look sad at the heart-breaking expression on her face.

A month had gone by since that painful day, and after weeks of him begging and grovelling and profusely promising that he would never do it again, that he would be better. Promising that he would go to therapy to fix his mistakes.

She asked how many times he had cheated on her and he hesitated before telling her that it had been going on for a month before hastily telling her that it meant nothing, just sex - as if that made it any better.

Now please don’t judge her, for eight years she had loved him more than she had ever thought you could love someone and for six years he was all she knew. She loved him with all that she had even if he did the one thing that she never thought he would do to her. She took him back.

When the team found out what he had done they rallied around to the apartment she shared with Americas golden boy, all telling her that they knew nothing, Tony had told her that he told Fury that he was kicking Sharon out of the tower and how Fury had made her move to a different SHIELD location. The team cleaned up the mess she had made the night she got back to their apartment after catching her husband’s betrayal. 

The team understood why she agreed to take him back though none of them liked it. They thought-no knew she deserved better than their friend, their captain. But they promised that they would always be there if she ever needed them, no matter what.

Steve understood that it was going to take her some time for them to go back to being ‘normal’ even though she didn’t know if they could ever get back what they once had.

She tried, she really did try and put it behind her but every night when she closed her eyes she was plagued by the memories of him with a woman that wasn’t her. Every time she woke up she would look to the right of her to find him facing her sleeping peacefully.

And every night she sneaked into the bathroom to put two fingers down her throat to be sick.

She was trying to be better she really was, she couldn’t help but flinch every time he went to kiss her or when he told her that he loved her.

She tried.

God she tried.

The first time they had sex was four months after his betrayal came to light. She hated how much she loved that feeling of him being on her, that feeling of him being close to her. She hated it because the loud banging of the headboard and the squeaks of the mattress took her back to that moment.

After what was normally an act that she once loved and treasured, that had now become a bittersweet moment between the married couple she went to the bathroom and did her routine that she did now after every meal she was forced to eat.

Though she was struggling, she wasn’t the only one.

Steve had gotten mad more than once about how she would always pull away from him or how she wouldn’t look him in the eyes anymore or how their lovemaking was now him doing all the work. He couldn’t understand why she hadn’t gotten over it like she said she did - she never said that, she just forgave him.

He had also complained not only to her but to his friends about her weight loss, how he would see her flicking the elastic band against her wrist that she would now wear.

What Steve hated most was when a storm made its way through New York she wouldn’t seek shelter in the warm comfort of his arms, no she would now lock herself in the bathroom and sit in the corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, flinching every time the loud cracking sound made it’s way through the apartment.

He had made the biggest mistake of his life and now it was costing him.

A year had gone by, six months of Steve getting solo counselling and another six months of them both going to marriage counselling later they had gone back to being how they once were, don’t get it wrong she still sometimes got nightmares about his betrayal but each time she would talk about it to him the next morning and they would talk it over, just like their therapist suggested.

Everything was going perfectly once again they celebrated their fourth anniversary together where Steve took her to a cabin that had a private lake, they spent the nights looking up at the stars that twinkled up in the dark sky and she would giggle when he picked her up and carried her to bed before making love to her over and over again.

Sometimes she would be okay with what happened in the past but then she would find herself thinking if Steve had what they had with Sharon.

It all came crumbling down six months after their fourth year anniversary when Steve announced that he would be travelling with the rest of the Avengers to help out the SHIELD headquarters in London.

Her heart stuttered hearing that.

That was exactly where Sharon had been located to.

He promised that he wouldn’t go anywhere near her, said that he would never make that mistake again. Swore that he was so in love with her that he wasn’t going to stray away from their marriage again.

She believed him.

She trusted him.

Five minutes after he left their apartment she rang to the bathroom to do something she hadn’t done in months. She put her fingers down her throat.

Every day that he had been away he rang her to talk about everything and anything, she had asked him if he had seen Sharon, he said yes but every time she tried to talk to him he walked away.

She believed him.

She trusted him.

When he came home with a massive bouquet of her favourite flowers, neither one of them left the apartment for three days straight. Both had grown sore from their activities.

One night, three weeks after he arrived back from London she received a text message from an unknown number, two photos were attached.

Her heart shattered.

A photo of a sonogram with Sharon Carters name at the top and a screenshot of Sharon’s messages she shared with Steve. Steve talking about how he couldn’t wait to be a dad, her saying that their time in London was special and him agreeing.

She looked to the right of her and saw him sleeping peacefully.

And once again she crept out of bed and began her routine she unfortunately picked up again.

He told her he was going on a solo mission and that he would be back in two weeks. She nodded and kept her head down. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t look at him or how she moved her head to the side so he only kissed her cheek.

She wasn’t foolish. She had gone through his phone and saw the messages between him and Sharon, he wasn’t going on a solo mission he was going back to London to spend some time with her and the growing baby in her stomach.

Her wrist had now a permanent circular bruise from snapping the elastic band.

She had lost count of the amount of tear she had shed from his betrayal and now that there was going to be a child added to the mix she cried more than she had ever done before.

Finally gaining the strength and courage she went to a lawyer and filed for divorce, it broke her heart to do so but it needed to be done. She could no longer go on like this. She could no longer be made a fool out of.

She needed to finally love herself, once again.

When he came home after being in London with her and their unborn child he frowned at seeing their apartment next to empty, all of her things missing, he saw her sitting on the couch looking just a beautiful as she always had.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

“I know about London and how you’re having a baby with her. Please sign the divorce papers”

“B-baby no… no she means noth-“

“You told her that you love her. You’re having a child with her. Please just stop and sign the papers”

He got down on his knees in front of her begging and crying, pleading with her to change her mind, told her that he would never have anything to do with Sharon or the baby ever, that they could be happy again.

She responded with telling him to sign the papers.

He cried and cried. Telling her how much of a mistake he had made, telling her over and over again that Sharon meant nothing to him. She flinched and grew angry when he said the baby meant nothing to him. That’s when she snapped.

“How dare you! That baby is innocent, as much as I can’t stand it’s parents don’t you dare say that! Poor child was only conceived because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, because you and its mother are terrible people. Yo-you promised me last time and I forgave you, and yet here we are now and you’re having a child with a woman that isn’t me. Sign the papers I won’t ask again.”

“P-p-please we can m-make this work”

“You honestly expect me to stay with you whilst you have a child with your mistress? No Steven that’s not happening. I choose to pick me first now, I deserve better, I deserve to be happy. You and your mistress deserve each other, you and your mistress deserves to be so miserable with each other. Just sign the fucking papers!”

He flinched at her swearing, his heart cracking as she pushed the divorce papers into his chest, he admits that he only slept with her once in London and the next morning the regret washed over him like a tidal wave threatening to swallow him whole. He didn’t love Sharon, god knows he didn’t. He loves the woman standing in front of him. Heck he wasn’t even sure if the child was his as Sharon has a boyfriend.

He finally took the pen from her hand and shakily opened up the papers, his heart sinking into the pits of hell seeing that she had already signed it. Gazing up to face her once more he realised that she was dead serious about this, he couldn’t let her down again so he signed his name next to hers.

“Thank you. Goodbye Steven have a terrible life”

They were the last words he would ever hear come out of her mouth as she walked straight past him and out of his life.

Months later she was behind the counter of the diner she worked at laughing at what one of the customers was saying about something his two year old son had gotten up to, wiping down the counter as another customer chimed in talking about how it only gets worse from here on out with children when the TV that was hanging in the top right corner said something that had a woman laughing.

It was being announced that the baby that Sharon had publicly announced as Steve’s was indeed not his. The baby had been born not even a month earlier and was already infamous by being the possible child from Captain America’s affair.

“I still can’t believe he cheated on his wife with that thing” Joey a loyal customer scoffed with a shake of his head.

“What’s your take on this sugar?” Lolly - Joey’s wife - asked as she sipped from her coffee.

“It’s a shame really” you answered keeping your eyes on the small television screen watching as Steve walked out of the courthouse where the camera man zoomed in on Steve’s wedding ring finger, seeing the ring that she put on his finger nearly five years ago still sitting there.

As for her, she finally found was it was like to love herself again. She could look herself in the mirror now and not point out her ‘flaws’, she no longer wore an elastic band around her wrist, nor did she force herself to be sick.

She was still sick sometimes but not because she wanted to be.

She was finally happy, her skin was glowing as Kiki - her boss - had kept telling her. Her happiness and self-love continued to grow along with her stomach.

Placing one hand on the right side of her large protruding stomach she smiled up at the screen seeing Steve in his car with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Let it be known that she had survived, and that she had gained the love for herself that she thought she had lost.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[ikeuverse]

mr. funny guy | lhs

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader  genres: fluff, humor wc: 3.8k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : a few swear words, mentions of alcohol. yeji, sunghoon's sister, is portrayed in this fic as being of age, because there is a part that insinuates that she has been drinking.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : why was it so important to heeseung that you laughed at his antics? you hadn't felt the need he had to make you smile, to be the reason for your smile. a ride home was all he needed to understand your motives and talk to you about them.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : this came to me as a totally random thought and made me want to write it, without pretension. yes, konon is written as jake's girlfriend just because i wanted something totally different, and i've never seen anyone put her as the girlfriend of any of the boys. idk, nothing special, hehehe. i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

Every group of friends consists of having outstanding personalities or a representative for each thing among them. Heeseung could be the personification of the funny kid.

He had always been in charge of making the best jokes and making everyone laugh ever since he met his friends at the end of high school and the beginning of university. With Heeseung around, it was as if there was no sadness at all.

Even his attitude was that of a big, awkward, funny guy, which gave him even more credit for his antics. 

Heeseung was responsible for making Jake stop crying when he got his first low grade in calculus at university. Not even his girlfriend was able to cheer him up, but Heeseung trying to prepare a smoothie and forgot to close the lid of the blender, causing all the fruit and mixtures to fly around the kitchen... Oh, that got a good laugh out of Jake. And a few curses from Jay, for sure.

Heeseung was also responsible for making Sunghoon and Yeji cry with laughter a week after their puppy went missing. She was crying and he said he would help his friends find her, even if their hopes were slim. Heeseung did find her, but that didn't stop him from coming back all wet and with mud all over his shorts because the dog had wandered into a garden and he ran with his life to rescue her. Telling that story out loud made it all worthwhile in the end.

What Heeseung never managed was to get many smiles out of you, Yeji's best friend. It wasn't as if you and she joined Sunghoon's group of friends very often, but when you did, you were the only one who stayed quietly in the corner of the room and didn't crack a smile when he made a joke.

At first, it didn't make much difference to him, not least because you only appeared occasionally and Heeseung only found out about you sometime later. Because you really were so quiet that you seemed almost invisible. But as time went by and Yeji attended more and more of the boys' meetings – even more so after she and you made friends with Jake's girlfriend – Heeseung didn't want to admit it, but he started to feel a bit insulted. 

Why weren't you laughing at his jokes? Why didn't you crack a single smile at his antics in front of his friends? You were supposed to hate him, in Heeseung's mind. That was the only explanation for why he never saw a single curved movement of your lips.

"Relax, man" Sunghoon said one night when the two of them were in the kitchen preparing the popcorn for the movie. "Yeji said that Y/n is like that, very closed," he took a larger bowl to pour the contents into, placing it next to another in case he needed a spare. "She took a while to open up to the girls, so maybe it's nothing personal."

So it would seem. Heeseung thought, rolling his eyes as he tried to forget about it and focus on the movie night they all had together.

A whole month passed and he tried not to focus on the thought that you didn't like him, because if that were the case, Heeseung would have gotten there first. He knew everyone there before you did, so if you didn't like him, you might as well not hang out with them anymore and just be friends with Yeji and Jake's girlfriend.

But no, that night what he wanted to happen happened. And without expecting much, without creating any expectations that you would smile at him.

"What are you three doing?" Sunghoon approached and ruffled Yeji's hair, hearing his little sister grumble and curse him for it. 

"Trying to make sushi at home" she huffed "But Konon's the only one who can, and she gives the hardest tasks to me and Y/n to do."

"Come on, I think we're doing fine," you said, avoiding looking at Konon because you knew she was laughing at the two of you.

You held up a hot roll you had just rolled, hoping it wouldn't fall out of your hand and spill all the rice. Your eyes met Sunghoon's and then looked at Heeseung, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You're doing a great job," Sunghoon complimented.

"Yeah, long and crooked... Looks like Sunghoon" Heeseung pointed to the hotroll in his hand, and he almost shouted when he heard the sound of your laughter.

It wasn't possible what Heeseung's eyes were seeing at that moment. You. Laughing and then smiling at him... Did that really happen?

Sunghoon abruptly turned to Heeseung as if he was thinking the same thing. Of course, he and the boys were the only ones to hear Heeseung's lament that you never smiled at anything he did. But now it had just happened.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it again, because strangely Heeseung's heart was pumping in a way that he wasn't happy about. Not to mention the fact that, apart from thinking about your smile and the sound of your laugh for weeks, the boy wasn't proud to say that he had dreamt about it.

Was it stupid to say that he had actually dreamed of your smile? Shit, that couldn't be possible.

"Heeseung!" Jake shouted to get his friend's attention, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

"Fuck, what a fright" Heeseung wriggled in his chair "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for about five minutes, what world were you in?"

"In the world where Y/n keeps smiling at him" Sunghoon hummed.

Fucking bastard... How did Sunghoon have to be so direct like that? All right, his friends knew and couldn't stand to hear Heeseung fantasize about it for weeks, but hearing it out loud from someone else made him feel like a bit of an idiot.

"In my defense, I'm still in shock about this" he tried to say, hearing Jay's laughter from across the room.

"Still? How long has it been... like, three weeks? A month?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Heeseung were to count, it had been a month and a few days, because every month the girls tried to make a different food. And he distinctly remembers his skills – not unlike Konon's – in rolling the seaweed into sushi.

"Do you like her?" Jake sprawled further back on the sofa, almost throwing his legs over Heeseung's lap. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor staring at the TV while the movie was still playing.

"What? No" he said too quickly, regretting it the moment all the boys' eyes landed on him.

"Dude, you literally went to great lengths just to make her laugh for you" Jay got up from his chair to walk over to Sunghoon and sit down next to him on the floor.

"And when that happened, you didn't stop talking about it the whole time," Jake added.

"I said you could all make me stop talking—"

"We don't want to, it's cute" Sunghoon smiled "Besides I think it happened a few more times after sushi night."

"What?" it was Heeseung's turn to shout, startling Jake who was cursing at him quietly as he curled up on the sofa.

At that moment Heeseung was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth near the TV and watching his friends with mixed feelings. Jake was still recovering from his shock, Sunghoon was pressing his lips together, feeling guilty for saying it just then. While Jay held in his laughter and closed his eyes to wait for the conversation to unfold.

"You're just telling me about this now? Fuck Sunghoon, what do you mean?"

"Dude, I'm sorry" he said, "It's just that you got so excited about it that if I told you she smiled a few more times, you might explode."

"I'm exploding right now" from the coloring of his face, it could be possible.

What do you mean you smiled at Heeseung or something related to him and Sunghoon didn't say anything at all? Now he wanted to know, what was the occasion? Had he done something funny, said something at the wrong time, or made a joke? Or did you genuinely smile just because he was around? What had been the circumstance in which you smiled at him?

"All your gears are turning at the moment and I think it's my fault" Sunghoon got up from the floor, straightening his pants and then sighing, "But she smiled at times when you weren't looking."

"Why?"

"Look, I know your mind because I've lived with you for years, but I have no idea what she was thinking about it" Sunghoon's words had a unique effect on Heeseung. He was even more pensive.

"Yeah, he's right" Jake said.

"You too..." Heeseung then turned to Jay.

"Dude, we talked about this for hours and worked it out together," he defended himself, cringing when the other threatened to approach.

"Hey, calm down!" Sunghoon held him by the shoulders even though he knew his friend would do absolutely nothing to any of the three "Now that you know, you can do something about it."

"Yes, kill the three of you."

"Or talk to her and ask why" Jake shrugged and stood up, giving his best smile in response "Now how about we order something to eat? I'm starving."

"No, no more drinks for you today, young lady" Sunghoon snatched the glass from Yeji's hand, listening to his sister's protests even though she was already a little upset.

"But hey, we're celebrating" she tried to catch it, but to no avail, her older brother was taller and would surely use that to his advantage.

"Celebrating what? The loss of your liver?" Heeseung looked around at the number of glasses on the kitchen counter.

He sighed as he imagined that the owner of that house would have an extremely difficult time cleaning up, but his thoughts were soon cut loose by the sound of laughter that flooded the room. His body went still and his eyes widened at the sight of your standing in front of the kitchen door.

"Hey, Heeseung, you look like you've seen a haunting" you waved at him, smiling briefly and then turning your eyes back to the Park siblings.

"He just heard something" Sunghoon added.

Not knowing what it was, you didn't bother asking him and just walked into the kitchen where the three of them were still standing.

"What's going on?" you asked.

"Yeji's already drunk, so let's go home."

"But she's celebrating," you pouted "It's not every day you get an A in Professor Choi's class."

"The worst professor at that university" Yeji picked up a glass to raise and pretend to toast, then put it back on the counter.

"But you've had enough, so I think you'd better go home" he looked at his sister and then at you "Has Jake taken Konon yet?"

"They just got home, Jay told me as soon as I came into the kitchen" you looked around for something to drink "And you two, what are you doing here?"

Sunghoon had gone after Yeji before he left and Heeseung had been in charge of looking for you, so the two of them could take you home safe and sound. But he didn't want to say that out loud.

"We came after you two," Sunghoon replied.

"Okay, let's go" Yeji whined "I won't be able to finish my drink anyway."

"Not even if we just have one more beer? It'll be quick and—"

"Nope" Heeseung stood in front of you when you threatened to approach the fridge. Looking up thanks to his height, this was the closest he had come to you since you two met.

It might have been the effect of the drink or the moment itself, but he looked glistening and that had – strangely – made your heart flutter.

Blame the drink, blame the drink, please.

"Come on Y/n, these two dullards don't know what fun is" Yeji pushed past Heeseung, ignoring his protests as she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.

"That's it man, a few more moves and you two would be kissing in this kitchen" Sunghoon held Heeseung by the shoulders without missing an opportunity to tease him.

He acted on instinct to stand in front of you so that you wouldn't advance into the kitchen, right? He also ignored the distance between the two of you because he miscalculated his steps and Sunghoon was right to say how close you and Heeseung were. But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as quickly as possible.

And that happened when Jay's voice echoed in Heeseung's ears, standing next to his friend's car.

"Can you take Y/n home?" he asked. Heeseung didn't want to show his shock, but the orbs almost popping out in the expression that caught him off guard made Jay laugh right away "I've had a few drinks and I certainly won't be able to drive."

"But—"

"Take her and come back for me" Jay handed Heeseung the keys to his car.

"Why don't you just go along? I can drop you home later."

"Because I'm not finished here yet" Jay's lips protruded forward in a pout, he took a few steps away from Heeseung, nodding and smiling at his friend "And I don't want to witness anything pornographic in my car. Unless I'm the one doing it," he shouted the last part and Heeseung turned sharply in the direction you were with the Park siblings. 

He would have given anything at that moment for you to be so drunk that you hadn't heard any of the shit Jay had said so far.

"Where's Jongseong going?" Yeji asked when he saw the boy disappearing among some people in the garden of the house.

"He said he didn't finish whatever it is in there" Heeseung sighed "Come on Y/n, I'll take you home."

None of you missed the mischievous giggle that escaped from Yeji, soon to be joined by Sunghoon. Heeseung knew very well about his friend, but why did his little sister even seem to be complicit?

"Do you know where I live?" you asked so naturally that Heeseung had forgotten how serious you were whenever you were around him.

"No, but you can tell me while we go in Jay's car," he said, and you just agreed and let him guide you to the vehicle. Neither of you cared what the Park siblings said as you and Heeseung walked to Jay's car. He showed himself to be a tremendous gentleman by opening the door for you and checking that everything was okay until you buckled your seatbelt so he could close the door and turn the car around.

"Can we go?" he asked and you nodded, giving Heeseung the coordinates so he could get to your house.

For Heeseung, the silence was necessary while he reorganized his thoughts because, for the first time, he was in a place alone with you. That had never happened since the two of you met.

Now for you, the silence was agonizing because it made you think and observe. To think about how hard you'd tried to get away from that man next to you and to observe how well he drove. His hands firmly gripping the leather of the steering wheel, his long fingers drumming now and then when they stopped at a traffic light or how agile his hand was at holding the gearshift. You also found yourself swallowing when his hand accidentally hit your leg when changing gears. He wasn't doing it on purpose, you knew that, but it was inevitable not to smile quickly.

"We're here" he was the first to break the silence, indicating that he had followed your coordinates very well, and now the two of you were parked inside Jay's car and in front of your apartment complex.

You looked out of the window, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked back at the boy in the car sitting next to you.

"Thanks, Heeseung" you said sincerely, opening a smile when his eyes met yours. Heeseung smiled too, but he didn't look so happy about it. He seemed... Annoyed?

"Can I ask you something, Y/n?" he said just like that, not even bothering to respond to your thanks. But you didn't mind either, after all, your sobriety was starting to kick in, but even so, your alcohol-addled body made you more curious than usual.

"Anything," you said.

It took him a while to formulate that question, pondering whether he should really ask it or just let it go and get on with his life as if it didn't affect him. But it certainly did. Heeseung knew why he had dreamt it, he had to ask.

"Why haven't you ever smiled at me?" might seem like a silly question from the outside, or even sad if the person was as sentimental as Heeseung.

At first, your eyebrows drew together in surprise. But then everything relaxed and you unbuckled your belt to turn around and face the boy.

"What do you mean?"

Heeseung repeated your gesture a few seconds later, unbuckling his belt and turning to face you too.

"I mean, ever since we met you've never smiled at anything I've done," he shrugged, trying to sound firm in his words, not wanting to waver or show how ridiculous it might seem "Surely Yeji has already let it slip that I'm the clown of the group and, I don't know, you're the only person who's never given me a single smile."

"Does that bother you?"

No. He should answer, to appear tougher.

"Yes, a little" Heeseung didn't want to follow his thoughts, he wanted to act on the emotion of the moment "I thought you didn't like me or, at worst, thought I was so dull that you begged the girls to get away every time we met in a group."

He was being so honest with you, opening up so genuinely that you felt a little bad. Maybe your way of acting on everything you'd heard hadn't been nice, you might have been a bit extreme with it.

"I'm sorry" was all you managed to say, without knowing exactly why you were apologizing. Whether it was for your reaction or for never getting to Heeseung and wanting to get to know him.

"Why?" he asked.

You didn't want him to ask, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself, you'd get out of the car and drive away. But Heeseung's sparkling eyes seemed to call out to you every second, guiding you to him as if you belonged there, staring at him as the words came freely out of his mouth.

"We have a group of friends at college and certainly Yeji's brother and his friends are sometimes a topic," your gaze quickly shifted to the window behind Heeseung. Anything being more interesting than his eyes paying attention to you right now "I once commented that... Well..."

"Say, it's okay," he tried to encourage you and you looked back at him, could blame it on the drink if something got out of hand, and would say the next day that you didn't remember anything you were saying. Even though by then your sobriety had reached more than half of your body.

"I told I thought you were very handsome" you nibbled your lower lip and continued, not even giving Heeseung time to process the information "A friend of ours said that you were not only handsome but funny, but that was a danger."

"What? Why?" he tried to shake off the tingling feeling in his chest and his cheeks heating up at the confession. So you thought he was handsome from the start.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of the funny boy being a danger?" you crossed your arms and snorted when Heeseung denied it with a nod "He'll make you laugh so much, you'll laugh. Laugh and laugh until you're naked in his bed."

It was his turn to laugh, hiding his face with his hands and messing up his hair.

"Shut up, don't laugh," you groaned in frustration, uncrossing your arms and trying to push his hand away from your face. The contact was electrifying, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Heeseung uncovered his face and looked at you.

"So Yeji's friend said that about me, and you believed it?" Heeseung wanted to sound confident as he raised an eyebrow, even though, if he had to get out of that car, his legs would be as soft as jelly.

"Well..." a few seconds passed and you sighed, "I avoided contact so I wouldn't have to believe it. I don't know, preserve myself as much as possible since you seem to be well known at the university."

"So you didn't want to smile at me because you thought you'd end up in my bed?" Heeseung leaned forward a little, looking a little defiant. You leaned forward too, your hands resting on your lap.

"You make all the girls smile, what difference would it make if I smiled at you?"

Don't be so honest, Heeseung thought to himself, but it was already done when he launched into it.

"Maybe because your smile is beautiful and when that happened on sushi night, I ended up dreaming for a long time."

"What? Did you dream about my smile?" you almost shouted in the car.

"Too many questions for one night, don't you think?" Heeseung pretended to shake himself, looking for the car keys that he hadn't even taken out of the ignition. Turning on the air conditioning might be a good idea since neither of you made any mention of leaving.

"Too many confessions for one night" you leaned back in your seat.

"I think we're going to need a few more nights for you to tell me more" he also leaned back in his seat, but his head remained turned in your direction.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Would you?" he asked back, a stupid – but extremely beautiful – smile adorning his lips as he said again, "I want to prove that friend of yours completely wrong."

"I'd love that, then" to his surprise, asking you out had been completely light-hearted. He didn't feel like throwing up or running away, or even saying something silly, stuttering... Nothing. Heeseung was just himself as he watched you bend down to him and brush your lips against the corner of his.

From the way Heeseung's head was tilted, giving indications that he wasn't going to move, you purposely kissed him on the corner of the lips, pulling away before he made any risky moves.

"I'm waiting for a message from you so we can make an appointment, mr. funny guy."

You winked at him, watching as the tip of Heeseung's tongue traced the exact spot where your lips touched the corner of his. The smile never left him as he watched you open the door, wave, and close it to leave.

A smile had never left Lee Heeseung like that.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[thepascalofus]

Supply Run - Return (part two)

AO3

PART ONE

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Chapter Summary: While Mando takes a trip to the market and gets what he needs, he ponders your relationship and what it means to him.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Switching POVs, post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of Grogu, soft!Mando, insecure!Mando (a smidge), helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, sad!reader for a little, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

A/N: Thank you all so much for the responses on the first part! This is my first fic that I've ever shared and it makes me so happy that other people enjoy my writing! Enjoy!

Mando handed his scope off to you in the worn down store. Wallpaper peeled from the ancient wooden planks of the walls. Cobwebs littered the untouched areas of the store. The work stations in the back, visible from the pick up counter at the front, were in complete disarray. Several projects started, but not finished. Several projects finished, but not retrieved.

You took the scope in your hand and twisted it in your hands until your gaze landed on the name of the manufacturer and the serial number. Your eyebrows shot up once the brand of the scope was revealed, it twisted in your hands once more. Hands raising the metal tube so it was level with your eyes, you looked into the scope. 

“Ah! I know what it is!”

Mando watched in confusion as you ran to a workstation and grabbed a singular tool. How did you know what was wrong so quickly? He sat in the hull of the Crest for hours attempting to fix the scope. The motions of taking the scope apart and putting it back together were etched into his brain from the number of times he did so. 

You returned to the front of the store with the tool in hand. “This manufacturer has been having these issues lately. They built their magnification system like no one else, but they didn’t seem to account for the need to recalibrate the scope every once in a while. Recalibrating too often causes the lenses to misalign.” 

Mando calibrated his every day. He had to. It was part of his job. A miscalibration could be the difference between a two hour hunt and a twelve hour hunt.

Your face twisted in concentration as you inserted the tool into the side of the scope. Jostling the metal, it popped open and allowed access to the inside. “For some reason they put these weird pins in…” You trailed off while you removed a total of three thin metal pins. Once the pins were removed, you clicked the top of the scope back into place and handed it to Mando.

Mando previously took the scope apart countless times. He never noticed any pins.

“Twenty credits, please.” You said with a smile. Your gaze met his–you somehow found it through his black visor–and you maintained eye contact.

The display on the inside of Mando’s helmet only progressed seven minutes after he entered the store. Inside of his helmet his eyebrows shot up. He was impressed. Not only with your efficiency, but with the reasonable price as well.

“I’m impressed.” He stated. Nodding at you, he retrieved a few credits from his utility belt and set them on the paint chipped counter. He turned and walked a few paces and then stopped in front of the door.

He’s been looking for a crew mate for weeks. The potential candidates he’s stumbled across were either annoying, rude, or incompetent. Throughout his time as a bounty hunter he’s been to countless repair shops. The service was always lack-luster, prices were too high, repair time much too long. 

Sure, he just met you eight minutes ago, but you had potential. He turned on his heel and faced you. Armor glinted in the low lighting of the run down shop. 

“Are you in the market for a new job?”

–

Walking to the market, he’d been reflecting on his decision to bring you onto the Crest as a crew partner.

It was the best decision he ever made, besides saving Grogu from the Empire.

You were intelligent. Friendly. Resourceful. Efficient. Brave.

You stared a Mandalorian straight in the eyes–well, visor–and didn’t even flinch. You didn’t even break eye contact, unlike everyone else. People would turn to whoever they’re with to avoid his gaze. They spoke like he wasn’t a meter or two away–and like he couldn’t amplify their voices with his helmet.

His tall, broad stance usually set everyone on edge. The heavy weight of beskar armor, a reminder of his skillset, didn’t aid in calming the nerves of anyone either. He was typically soft spoken around others, as he noticed people’s reactions when he spoke–eyes wide, speech stuttering, shaking hands–scared. 

Everyone was afraid of him.

Except you.

When you first boarded the Razor Crest, Mando was extremely careful in making sure you were comfortable. The majority of his days not hunting were spent in the cockpit or in his bunk. Whenever you crossed paths in the hull you offered him a small smile and quickly looked away. Did your bravery fade away?

He came back from a hunt one day, quarry in tow, and he was relieved to hear, “How was your day?” Fall from your lips once the bounty was in carbonite.

Still cautious–mindful of how the modulator made his voice sound–he kept his answers short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Hearing the four words you said after each return from a hunt, and being able to give you a response without you slinking away, made the hunts worth it.

One night always stood out in his mind. It was just like any other return from one of his hunts. Mando dragged the quarry up the Crest’s ramp by a cord tied around their ankles. He lifted the man to stand up, doing so effortlessly with a few grunts to spare. 

Your living space was in the hull, so he always tried to make the ends of his hunts fast. You didn’t have any choice but to watch. Mando didn’t want to make you watch for too long. Maker, he didn’t want you to watch at all.

His fist slammed the button to begin the freezing process. Breathing heavily, he stood and watched the bounty as they froze into the carbonite cell. A blanket of silence covered the hull once the hissing of the freezing mechanisms came to a stop.

“How was your day?”

There it is. His favorite part after the hunt. Knowing you were there, safe within the hull, and that you wanted to be friendly with him–even after witnessing him freeze a person he tracked down for several hours.

“Nothing you want to hear about,” he replied, his voice tinged with tiredness. The helmet’s modulator most likely didn’t register the sleep in his voice. Truly, he didn’t think that you would want to hear about it. The Mandalorian was afraid that hearing about his hunts would put you on edge. You already extended a branch of friendliness to him twice a day. He didn’t want to give that up by talking about the bounties he tracks down.

“Try me.”

Those words.

Those words have only ever been spoken to him by enemies. It always caused annoyance to wash over him, head to toe. He’s a Mandalorian. Confident of his skills in combat. No matter the odds, Mando knew he would like them.

But when those words tumbled from your lips, it was different. When his enemies weren’t scared of him, it was annoying. When you weren’t scared of him, adoration filled his body. And not adoration in a patronizing way, but adoration as a form of respect. 

It made him want you that much more.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mando realized the crotch of his pants were tight. Nonchalantly, he clasped his hands together and rested them below his belt.

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out. Again, he was conscious of how the modulator warped his voice. “Not too fun,” he added in an attempt to make the conversation more casual.

You were silent. He whispered a curse to himself under his helmet, one that he was certain wouldn’t be picked up by his modulator. Was his answer too much? Mando quickly became nervous and started to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The silence you left in the air made him a bit anxious.

The T shape of his visor peered over to you. You stood still in shock, reminiscent of the people that saw him in public. Before his thoughts could spiral too much, you replied, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Dank farrik. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to comfort him. “You don’t have to be sorry,” his chest brushed against your shoulder as he swiftly hopped onto the first rung of the ladder up to the cockpit. “It’s my job.”

“That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” you said. He smiled underneath his helmet at your consideration. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed as you realized what you said, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks.”

You weren’t wrong. Making his way through tough terrain, relying on a blinking red light on a piece of metal to guide him. Finding them was a task in itself, but dragging them back to the Crest was the other half of his job that sucked. Mando looked over his shoulder at you and replied matter-of-factly, “My job does suck.”

A giggle bubbled out from your chest. Every once in a while you would be reading a funny article on your Holopad and your laughs would echo through the hull of the Crest, making their way up into the cockpit. He needed more of them. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

If you were comfortable enough to stand up to him, and laugh at his awful attempts at jokes–after he just hauled a bounty onto the ship–Mando realized he was safe.

Not only were you safe with him. He felt safe with you, in more ways than one.

Kriff it. You extended a friendly attitude towards him–a faceless warrior covered in impenetrable armor–then he could extend a friendly attitude towards you as well.

You asked him about this day, both in the mornings and the evenings. He learned about what you like and didn’t like. One item stood out to him. Caf. He always entered into a cloud of caf scent when he sauntered into the hull in the mornings. Mando was usually up before you, so he figured he would start making you a cup every morning. Confident enough in knowing which kinds of caf you preferred, he would stock up on caf every supply run.

The Mandalorian got closer to you, both physically and emotionally. Sometimes he would catch his hands landing on your waist or your lower back when he passed you on the ship. You’d shoot him a small smile in response. The distance he kept from you only decreased. He wanted to see your smile more and more. 

One thing he didn’t see coming was your interest in Mando’a. He would mumble to himself in the ship while completing various tasks.

“What’s that word mean?” You’d occasionally ask. The Mandalorian would explain their meanings, sometimes struggling to translate the word to Basic.

He must have taught you at least two dozen words in Mando’a by now. Each time you asked you would give him your full attention. 

At night, if he amplified the sound with his helmet enough, he could hear you practicing the words and recalling their meanings. It motivated him to share more words with you.

–

All of these experiences have led to this day. He’s been planning it for a month or two now. 

He wants to ask you on a date. Nerves bubbled up from his stomach and throughout his body. They suddenly came to a halt. 

Not now. First, he needs to collect information on a quarry.

Lost in his thoughts, he looked up and the market filled his vision with you in his peripheral. It wasn’t too busy, part of the reason why he was comfortable enough for you to shop on your own. He clarified the meet up point to you and watched as you took off. You had a bounce in your step, probably due to your excitement at shopping alone. 

Once he meandered further into the market he began to collect information. This market was the bounty’s last location. Mando’s guess was that he either simply wanted to be in a small city, gambled their life savings away, or they paid for visit after visit with the workers at the brothel until they ran out of credits.

Only one way to find out. The gambling and brothels didn’t start up until later in the afternoon. To kill the time, and to possibly find the quarry, Mando wandered throughout the different sections of the market. 

He asked a few vendors about the bounty. Mando described the man to many market sellers and only got a slight lead from one woman donned in patterned fabrics. 

“I think he went that way,” the woman gestured with one of her hands towards an intersection, “Take the left path. I don’t know anything else beyond that.”

Mando dropped a few credits into her hand and gave her a polite nod, “Thank you.” He continued on and curved his gait to take the left path. From the signs and general merchandise displayed on each stall, he knew he was entering the clothing section of the market.

The helmet covering his head swiveled from left to right and right to left. No one matched the description of his quarry. Repeating his previous process, he made his way down the stall-lined alley and asked a couple different vendors.

Once the last vendor finished talking, and provided him with another lead, he dug his hand into his pocket and slid the credits on the stall’s counter towards them. Turning his back towards the vendor, his feet carried him two steps back into the market.

Then he saw you.

You stood hunched over a table of colorful bracelets. Tapping his fingers to the temple of his helmet, Mando zoomed in and the helmet displayed your face to him, deep in thought. Looking down, you were hovering your hands over a grid of various green bracelets. 

You stopped on one. Mostly brown, almost too much to be in the green section, Mando thought. Nonetheless, the green and silver streaks peeked in and out of the thick threads of brown that made up the bracelet. Your fingers sorted through the sizes of the bracelet and selected one that looked close to your size. 

Clutching it in one hand, the other hand searched for another of the same bracelet. It was larger than the previous size. You set the smaller bracelet down and tested the strings. The bracelet was adjustable, and you smiled at the discovery.

You transferred the bracelets onto the table of the stall and used one hand to dig into your pockets. Palm held out flat, Mando guessed that about twenty credits sat in your palm. He followed your gaze to the sign listing the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

Shoulders falling, you dropped the credits back into your pocket and returned the bracelets to their original spot in the grid of green. Ground crunched beneath your shoes as you turned and continued wandering through the market.

Mando noted it was the third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Not wanting you to realize he saw you, the Mandalorian walked in the opposite direction you took. After twenty minutes he noticed that the stalls became much more strange than the stalls in the clothing section of the market. Peering at the different products for sale, he saw a potions shop offering “super strength elixir” and a vendor selling various pet-like creatures. A few more vendors passed his peripheral vision as he continued his strides. They came to a stop once a building larger than the surrounding stalls came into view.

His helmet tilted upwards to read the sign displayed front and center on the large building: BROTHEL.

Tapping the side of his helmet, the time on the helmet’s display indicated that the brothel and gambling scenes had just begun. Mando tapped the temple of his helmet once again and the warm bodies within the building lit up, like he had x-ray vision. He counted a dozen in total. One body stood in the same spot inside near an entryway–the bouncer, Mando thought.

The bouncer was the individual that allowed access in and out of the building. If their memory was decent, they would be like a living guest book. Mando figured he could bribe them to reveal information, which was his usual plan with most of the beings he spoke with.

He sauntered over to the side of the building the bouncer was standing at. A singular light flickered over the side door, the sun was still out, so Mando was confused why it was on. The beskar helmet observed the side door.

Metal. Double deadbolts. Keypad on the left side. Small slit at eye level–neck level for the Mandalorian.

As soon as he crouched down to look near the slit, it slid open and revealed a thick pair of black eyebrows. Black eyes bore into the brow of Mando’s helmet, as the bouncer couldn’t seem to find his eyes. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The bouncer asked. The voice behind the door was gruff, as if the words had to crawl from the depths of his throat. 

“No,” Mando responded.

Black eyes blinked and then disappeared when the bouncer closed the metal slit. 

Mando was taken aback and furrowed his brow. His fist pounded on the door. He just wanted this hunt to be over with. He wanted to get back to you.

The slit in the door revealed two black eyes once more.

“I have credits and will pay you if you give me information on a client your establishment may have served.” Mando’s modulator gritted out loudly. Straight and to the point. All business. 

Eyes disappeared again, but were then accompanied with the sounds of the deadbolts unlocking. The metal door swung open to reveal a man dressed in all black with a silver name tag. Black hair matched the rest of his ensemble. 

Still holding the door, the bouncer asked, “What’s the bounty look like?”

An eyebrow raised inside Mando’s helmet, but he figured the bouncer knew the drill by now. Even other bounty hunters knew that brothels were what many bounties visited. A gloved hand unbuttoned a pocket on his belt and retrieved a bounty puck. Clicking the side of it, the puck displayed the quarry. 

The man stepped out of the doorway and onto the pavement, pulling the door closed behind him. His black eyes slightly squinted when his gaze trailed up and down the hologram.

“Ah yeah, I’ve seen this guy. He has a type, always goes for the blondes.” 

“Does he have any upcoming appointments?” Mando questioned.

The bouncer sighed in thought and pulled a small notepad from his pocket. Mando mirrored the man’s motion and produced a pen and notepad from his pocket. 

“The guy has an appointment in two days. He just asked to see a blonde. Figures.” The man shrugged and opened his notepad. Mando noticed it was a planner, and the bouncer flipped to the pages for the appointments two days from today.

“Which workers would take him as a client?” Mando’s modulator churned the words. His pen clicked as he readied himself to write.

The man donned in black made a fist with one hand and raised a finger with each name, “Ari. Taima. And Nomi. They would be in rooms one, five, or seven.”

Wow, Mando thought, this guy really knew the drill. He quickly finished up writing down the names and room numbers of each worker. The pen scratched feverishly against the cream colored paper, leaving behind black strokes to form letters and numbers. Notepad folding closed and the pen clicking, signifying the end of his notes, Mando returned the pen and paper to their place in his pocket. His opposing hand reached into a different pocket and produced a sizable amount of credits. Feeling generous, thankful that this hunt was going to be quick, he compensated the bouncer handsomely.

First task done. Second task on the horizon.

Creaking produced from the hinges of the metal door as the bouncer disappeared behind it once more. Flickering light gleamed off the beskar armor that protected the Mandalorian in combat. Although he wasn’t going into combat, because he wouldn’t be nervous if he was. 

Mando trained most of his life with the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Combat flowed through his blood easily. It was a part of him. 

But he was never trained on how to ask people out on dates.

On top of that, he was never trained on how to ask you out on a date.

He didn’t want to misread the situation. You could just be friendly. Who would want to date a man and not know what he looks like? Who would want to constantly live on a ship, without a permanent home? 

Being Mando, he prepared for the worst. If you said no, he figured that you would be uncomfortable living with the man who asked you out on a date. Knowing that he’s attracted to you. He would fly wherever you wanted and give you some credits to get started. Kriff, he’d send credits for however long it takes for you to get on your feet. Then he’d leave you alone. 

Admittedly, the Mandalorian would probably keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. You just wouldn’t know he’s there.

But if you said yes.

Mando’s chest bloomed with anticipation. Firework-like tingles trailed up and down his limbs at the thought. He bit his lip within the confines of his helmet when he realized his pants had gotten tighter. Thankfully he was a Mandalorian, because heat washed over his face, half due to arousal and the other half in embarrassment.

The brown eyes underneath the helmet widened. If he wanted to do more with you and you agreed, he didn’t have protection.

Turning on his heel, cape whipping behind him, he made a quick pace back to the brothel.

Once he arrived at the gray building, the light at the side of the building having more of a purpose, Mando glided towards the same door as before. Bringing a fist up to the metal, he knocked three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clink. Shhhkt.

“Do you sell condoms?” the modulator quickly blurted.

All business.

—

He arrived at the meet up point before you. Leaning against a nearby tree, Mando checked the time constantly, as if he was devoted to the action more than his Creed. If you were late, he always went looking. 

Thankfully, you trudged up to the food stall on time with a hefty bag full of purchases. Fine, brown gravel grinded against the soles of Mando’s shoes as he made his way over to you. His gloved hand slipped the bag from your grasp and the pair of you began walking back to the Crest.

Both of you carried on with your normal post-supply run routines. You and Mando, but this time just Mando, piled the purchases from the market onto the hull’s floor. From there, the items could be sorted through and put in their respective places around the Crest.

As Mando finished unloading the large bag of purchases, he quickly dug around for the receipts. He knew how much you liked to review the shopping haul each time a supply run was completed. Mando enjoyed seeing the satisfaction wash over your face after you read over the receipts.

But this time was different. You froze once you got to the last receipt.

Mando’s helmet tilted in confusion. He took a few steps closer towards you, “What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”

You remained still while your eyes darted over the lines on the receipt. With your back turned to him, Mando found the opportunity to zoom in on the ink printed on the flimsy paper.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

Oh. Fuck. FUCK.

He hasn’t even asked you on a date yet and now you probably already think he’s a perv. Nerves took over his body as you continued to stand still.

Your hand quickly crushed the receipts and threw them in the trash, “Nope! The last receipt didn’t look familiar but,” you trailed off slightly but recovered, “I remembered what I bought from the place.” A nervous laugh–obviously fake, Mando knew what your real one sounded like–escaped from your lips.

He fucked it up. You knew he was interested in you like that. And you didn’t feel the same. He hasn’t even asked you on the date yet. It’s all screwed up now.

But he also felt like he didn’t have enough evidence. What if you did like him but the idea of…needing to use the condoms…made you nervous.

Mando had to at least try. The least he had to do was ask you.

He cleared his throat and grabbed the bag off of the floor. You stood away from him, biting the inside of your cheek, nervously watching his movements. 

“I’m going to go to the night market,” he informed you, “I have some business with a bounty I need to take care of.” 

The bounty wouldn’t be captured until two days from now. In reality, he was really going to go and purchase snacks, takeout, and a pair of those bracelets you admired. It would have been suspicious if he met you back at the meet up point with bags full of snacks. The beskar man figured it would be best to hold off on buying them until later, and tell you he was getting a bounty, so you wouldn’t catch on.

He should’ve waited for this second trip to buy the condoms, he thought.

–

Mando left to, “Go to the night market,” he said. You saw the condom listed on the market receipts, you knew where he went tonight. What he’s going to do. 

The brothels.

Yeah, sure, he’s paying a worker to give him a service. No feelings attached. But you didn’t want him to be with anyone else. Was Mando necessarily yours? No. Have you ever had sex with him? Also no.

That didn’t stop you from getting jealous.

And it wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. What if he fell in love with one of them? Or what if he was going on dates? He could have a romantic interest you don’t even know about. Next thing you know, they’re going steady and you’re kicked off the ship. Or worse, you have to watch him love someone that isn’t you.

No more silence with him in the cockpit, watching as the hyperspace lights soar past the windshield. Feet tapping down the ladder as you both began your nighttime routines. He’d wait in the hull near the door of the fresher in just his helmet, undershirt, sleep pants, and socks. As he lifted off the wall from his leaning stance he’d ask you, “Are you done?” Holding his own hands in front of him, trying to seem relaxed, as if he was trying to look less intimidating. “Yeah,” you’d quickly respond, leaving the fresher and brushing past him. Sometimes his hand found your waist as he passed, or the small of your back. “Thank you,” he’d grunt gently as he closed the fresher door. 

No more of Mando letting out a small, “Good night,” before lingering on your closing eyes and watching as your lips smiled, forming your response, “Good night.” 

Falling asleep, you knew you’d wake up to him. He would be up before you on most days, leaving you a fresh cup of caf and your favorite ration pack (when he had them). The short chatter between you two, going over the logistics of the next hunt, telling stories from your past, or just thinking out loud to each other. Gone.

You would be banished from home.

The fear struck your chest. Heat searing through your ribcage and meeting your spine, the visions repeated over and over in your head. Tears fell like waterfalls from your eyes. Most streams connected underneath your chin and trailed down your neck. Your back met the hull’s wall as you sank down onto the floor. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your head was heavy and numb.

Just breathe. You knew you weren’t going to die. Go through some heartbreak? Maybe, but you knew you’d be alive. It helped. Your breath slowed and the fear dissipated into the air around you. That didn’t stop the flow of tears down your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on the closed ramp.

–

Mando’s footsteps set a steady pace back to the market.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He displayed a map of the marketplace as an overlay on the display of his helmet. Mando usually reserved this practice for combat to aid in determining exit strategies and the best plan of attack.

But now he was using it to calculate the most efficient route throughout the marketplace in order to see you again sooner. 

Closing the overlay from the helmet’s display, he was met with the sight of the market. Long strings of lights decorated the different stalls. Many vendors took advantage of the dark and used different, bright combinations to reel in customers. Some lights were multicolored. Some flashing. Some huge and some small. He thought of the “ooh”s, and, “ahh”s that you would let out at the brilliant display.

The Mandalorian started in the food section of the market. Carefully examining which vendors carried your favorite snacks, he made purchase after purchase in quick succession. His helmet remained on a swivel, scanning the stalls from right to left and left to right. 

A stall offering your favorite kind of takeout came into view.

Once Mando arrived at the stall he ordered two takeout meals. The vendor looked startled and confused as he ordered. They shakily accepted the credits for the two meals. Gazes drifted away from Mando and quickly returned as he stood waiting for the meals to be prepared. A bell rang and he retrieved two warm containers, placing them in his bag alongside the snacks.

One last stop. The bracelets.

Marching through the food district, he came upon an intersection at which the left path led him to the clothing district. Yet again, his helmet pivoted on his neck from one side to another. 

The third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Mando continued his steady pace until the bright green stall came into view. The brightness of the exterior paint was exaggerated by the warm light emitted by lanterns, which decorated the outside of the shop. He didn’t notice before but the store sold children’s clothes. Onesies. Small shoes. Tiny hats.

A small tunic. Small enough for a human child younger than one year old. The tunic reminded him of Grogu’s. Mando’s bare hands brushed against the material countless times as he cradled The Child in his arms.

The last time he spoke about Grogu was with you. You listened and offered support. He’s never had anyone do that for him.

His visor turned to his left. The soft fairy lights of the stall reflected off of the beskar helmet on his head. As if the beskar reflected a dark sky decorated with bright stars. Various fabrics hung from the side of the vendor’s stall to cover the old wooden planks. Little accessories were placed throughout the shop on different tables and displays. 

Mando wasn’t focused on those items, he was focused on the long table of bracelets organized by color. His feet carried him to the green section. The helmet turned downwards to allow him to observe the selection. 

Shit.

There were so many bracelets similar to the pair you held, just all in different combinations of green, silver, and brown. Was it the bracelet with the large green cord and the small silver and brown threads? Or the one with the large silver cord and green and brown threads? Or thick brown cord with streaks of green and silver? His hands hovered over the options, doing his best to recall the details from earlier in the day.

“It’s this one,” a woman’s voice said.

A bit startled, the Mandalorian looked up and found a woman standing on the other side of the table. She wore long robes with intricate patterns. Jewelry decorated every limb and part of her body, like jewels were dripping down from her skin from a storm of gemstones. Hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her smile was kind and her gaze met Mando at his eyebrow.

A good try, he thought.

“I’m sorry?” He replies. She couldn’t possibly know which bracelet he was trying to find.

“You were watching them earlier. From across the street,” she let out faint exhales as she let out a short laugh, “Maybe you should hide a little better next time.”��

She reached out and picked two bracelets out of the display grid. “I remember the sizes too,” she said, “The person you watched held onto them for so long, they seemed pretty attached to them. I kept track of which bracelets they were just in case.” The robed woman shot him a friendly wink.

“In case of what?” Mando questioned. He was still in shock that the woman noticed him staring at you from across the street. 

The woman glanced up at him like that was a dumb question, “In case you came back to get them, Mandalorian. This isn’t my first day on the job.”

It saved him the time and stress of trying to remember which one it was, so he shrugged and watched the woman’s jewelry dangle as she typed onto the register. 

Beep. Beep. Beep beep. Ching.

“Okay sir, twenty credits please!” The woman extended her hand out and waited for Mando to place credits into her palm. She was met with the tilting of the black T shape on Mando’s beskar helmet. 

“I thought the price was thirty,” he stated as he began to reach into his pockets to retrieve his credits.

The woman let out another small laugh, “Oh, I suppose I should have made the sign larger,” her decorated fingers pointed to a small sign above the one that displays the bracelet prices.

$10 OFF WHEN YOU BUY TWO OR MORE

Mando’s shoulders dip in realization that you could’ve bought the bracelets in the first place. A sigh escapes his modulator and he hands the credits over to the intricately robed vendor. The credits clink into her palm, and then into the register.

He waits silently for her to package them up in a small bag. 

“They like you, you know,” the woman mentions, “No one like them would be deciding on which bracelets to buy for that long if they didn’t.” She paused as she was about to place the larger of the two into the small bag, “And look at the size of this one! It’s definitely for you.” 

The Mandalorian nods, “I appreciate that,” he pauses before turning away, “let’s hope they do.”

–

Mando sets a faster pace back to the Crest than the one he took from the Crest to the market. He’s impatient, he can’t wait to walk up the ramp and see your body curled up, comfortable and safe, while you sleep soundly in your bed–if you can even call it that, he thought. You usually went to bed early when he went on hunts, otherwise you would be awake talking to him.

Slipping the bag from his shoulder, an ungloved hand rummaged through the contents searching for a small bag. His fingers found the familiar texture and he pulled it out from between the snacks and the takeout. 

Mando slung the bag back over his shoulder, pulled the larger of the two bracelets out of the small bag, and slipped his hand through the ring of brown, silver, and green. Grabbing one of the ends with his fingers and pinning it to his palm, the other hand tightened the bracelet to a comfortable size around his wrist.

Once the small bag was returned to its place inside of the larger one, Mando peered around him to get a good look of his surroundings. 

The sun was about to set, leaving only a sliver of light available to provide dim light to the landscape. Rocks littered the ground. Shadows from each one making them appear larger in the light of the impending dusk. He reached up and tapped a finger to the temple of his helmet. No living thing was around him.

He paused and set the bag on the ground. Doing one last scan of the area, one of his hands gripped the chin of his helmet and lifted the beskar from his head. The hand held the helmet at his side while he marveled at his wrist.

He caught a good patch of remaining light and watched as the green and silver threads gleamed against the thick brown ones. The bracelet was beautiful. Not only because of the design, but because you picked it out. And it was for him.

Becoming paranoid, the Mandalorian quickly slipped his helmet back onto his head. He waited for the seal of the helmet to engage before continuing back towards the Crest. This time, at an even faster pace.

–

You sat there until you heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside, the hydraulics of the ramp coming to life. Thinking fast, you stood up and made your way towards the fresher to start your nighttime routine.

“Why are you still awake?” Mando’s voice was confused. He stood in front at the top of the ramp with his helmet tilted, hands resting on his hips, but his shoulders were slumped, a bag slung around one. He looked…worried.

Mando was right. Usually when he went on hunts you went to bed early. Nowadays the only thing that kept you awake was him. Talking with him was how you spent most evenings on the Crest, your voices echoed and bounced back to each other in the hull.

He’s used to seeing you curled up on the sleeping pad covered in blankets. Soft breaths came from your body and radiated throughout the Crest. Just like a minute ago, his footsteps would come up the ramp with his bounty in tow. Soft grunts could be heard kitty-corner from your spot in the hull. A hiss of mechanisms as they froze the bounty in carbonite. Then a bit of silence. 

The absence of the carbonite freezing stood out in your mind. No bounty, even when he said he was going to go and find one. Your eyes teared up slightly again as the realization truly set in. Mando really did go to the brothel.

You just wanted this night to be like any other night he came back to the Crest with a bounty.

After the bounty was frozen, heavy footsteps made their way across the floor of the hull. But they always stopped a few paces away from your bed, halting for a moment. Mando would complete his nightly routine. Setting the Crest’s coordinates for the next planet and showering in the fresher if he needed to–he usually did.

No matter what the events of his nightly routine were, it always ended with him standing in the doorway of his bunk–the sound of his footsteps always stopped partially inside.

“Good night, cyar'ika.”

You didn’t know what the Mando’a meant, since Mando never used that word around you, but you knew that the, “good night,” was all you needed to finally fall asleep.

You always waited up for him, only until reasonable hours of the night, of course, but he didn’t know it.

The sound of his footsteps in the present snapped you out of your hazy state. Crying really does a number on your brain.

“Just…couldn’t fall asleep,” you offered him a small smile as you pulled some products out of the tiny fresher cabinet. You wet your face and applied a small amount onto your fingertips, tapping them together for both hands to have the product. As you lifted your face and your hands to the mirror to begin washing your face, you were met with swollen lips, puffy eyes, and slight tear trails dried onto your face, despite the water you just splashed onto it. You froze.

There goes any of your chances to get away with how you spent your night. Staying up late staring at the Crest’s ramp. Waiting for Mando to come home. At least what you thought was home.

“What’s wrong?” Mando’s voice got clearer as he approached the fresher door. His strides long, footsteps clunking, as he removed his leather gloves and tucked the pair into his utility belt.

You went to turn away from him but he got there faster than you could. His ungloved hand rested on your shoulder, grip slow yet firm as he turned you to face him. He rubbed tiny circles onto your skin with his thumb once his eyes beneath the helmet noticed yours.

Your reflection on the silver beskar of his helmet stared back at you. Could you even get away with a lie at this point? What else would have made you cry? It’s not exactly like you could have said the truth either.

Oh yeah, I was sitting here having a panic attack as you participated in a perfectly normal service that is offered on this planet. Then I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you, and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.

Mando’s hand waved in front of your face and it brought you back into the present moment. “Did someone come onto the ship while I was gone?” His voice gritted out from the helmet’s modulator. 

“Maker, no,” you huffed and tried to look less suspicious, hoping he’ll just drop the topic.

“Then what is it?” He murmured, his modulator barely picking up his syllables. His wide shoulders took up most of the fresher’s door frame. The grip on your shoulder tightened slightly.

“It’s…I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.” You shrugged and repressed the heat of anxiety creeping down the back of your head. Turning to wash and dry your hands, you let out a sigh and started to walk towards the main open space of the hull. Your shoulder gently bumped him as you slid past his large frame in the doorway. 

Suddenly your hips were being snapped backwards and dragged back towards the fresher. His damn finger was in your belt loop again. 

He pulled you close to him, feeling the heat from his knuckle dig into your hip and spread throughout the rest of your body. His helmet leaned down to look you in the eye and tilted once again.

“Try me,” he paused. He brought his hand up to grip onto the valley where your neck meets your shoulder, slowly enough so you could back away if you so desired. His large palm and thick fingers were calloused and warm. The grip he had on you was still gentle, slightly squeezing. “You know you can tell me, right?”

You let a deep inhale permeate through your lungs. The words flowed through your individual cells. Thoughts of lying escaped your body with each breath. The debate inside your head would end. Whether he had those feelings for you or not.

“I got upset because you went to the brothel.” You told him. Lips trembling and eyes squinted open in an attempt to meet his gaze.

“The brothel?” He held both of your shoulders and brought his visor closer to your face. Thumbs rubbed your shoulders yet again. He sighed as your name left his lips and traveled through his helmet, “I didn’t go to a brothel tonight.” A titled T-shaped gaze met yours. You knew he was looking you in the eyes, and yours into his.

Brows furrowed, you sniffled slightly, “I-, I saw that condoms were on the market receipts.” The thumbs on your shoulders stopped, his chest didn’t rise and fall. He froze. You made Mando freeze. 

“Look I know I’m just being dramatic and paying for that kind of thing is completely normal. I just,” you trailed off and thought of a quick replacement for your worry, “I was worried you would get hurt there.”

Mando’s shoulders fell and his helmet cocked to the side. “What?” He questioned. “How would I get hurt? None of the workers there had weapons.”

“How would you know that if you didn’t go?” You whispered to him. Your gaze left his and it dropped to the shape in the center of his chestplate. The crystal shape rose up and down slowly.

“I got information on a bounty there earlier,” he sounded like he was talking to a hurt animal. Gentle. Slow. Calm. “What's the actual reason you’re upset?” 

Kriff it.

“I had a panic attack because I thought you went to the brothel. Maybe you would like the worker there more than you like me, I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you,” your chest heaved and as you listed off your previous thoughts of worry. Your hands shook as they landed on top of Mando’s, and you took a deep breath, eyes meeting his gaze like before, “and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.”

Mando is quick. He flipped his hands to grab one of yours and tugged you into the hull. Kneeling, he opened a cloth bag, one from the market, and dug into it to search for something. 

He actually went to the night market. You thought, now you look so clingy. So needy. He was just going to show you what he got to prove he went.

He turned and held his hand out. Sitting on top of the golden skin on his palm was a bracelet.

The bracelet from the market.

“I saw you looking at these, you looked for a long time and then put them down,” He stood up and set his gait to slow steps as he made his way over to you.

You laughed nervously, accompanied by a small sniffle, “Sorry yeah, I know I just should have been getting the stuff we needed. You didn’t have to go back and get it for-.” Mando raised a finger to halt your speech and continued what he was saying previously, “you put them down. You had two bracelets.”

“They had lots of them that I liked…I had two that were a tie and I just decided to get neither-.” Mando cut you off again.

“You were holding one bracelet consistently and then picked another in a bigger size,” you froze at his words. Dank farrik. Now he was going to think you’re super clingy. 

“I wasn't completely sure who you wanted to wear the bracelet, but I took a guess.” He pulled his long sleeve past his elbow and revealed his bare forearm. Strong. Capable. Solid. And a matching bracelet was donned on his wrist.

Your cheeks radiated with heat as he took your wrist and put your bracelet on you. His warm fingertips brushed the soft skin of your wrist, sending chills throughout your body at the meticulous skin-on-skin contact. 

Once the bracelet was secure around your wrist, Mando dipped his head and looked down at the floor. One of his hands gripped the underside of his helmet, and the other held onto your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat at the gesture. He quickly lifted his helmet to release his mouth, and he pressed three kisses on your wrist where the bracelet was. Mando’s lips were soft and timid, his hand caressing the skin on yours. Silver from his beskar helmet blocked your view, but Mando sealed his helmet and brought his eyes underneath the visor to look into yours.

“This means everything to me.”

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

[jaycewrites-192000]

Secret

Summery: Rindou and reader have been dating in secret, and when reader finds out Rindou had injured Angry in a fight, she has no other choice but to confront him.

Pairing(s): Platonic!Nahoya Kawata x Platonic!Reader x Platonic!Souya Kawata, Rindou Haitani x Reader

Warning(s): Angst with happy ending

Credit to: @lostsomewhereinthegarden for the idea!

A/N: This would be a one-off, idk if within the series the kawata sister (reader) would be in a relationship with anyone. But, there is going to be a mini series where she does actually get a boyfriend. However, that’s not gonna be canon to the actual Kawata Sibling series either lol. Just for fun really.

“I feel like I could have helped out more if I showed up to the fight. I’m worried about Souya.” Y/n says as she helps her oldest brother onto his wheelchair. “Also you’re not suppose to be out of the hospital yet dummy. You too Mitsuya.” Y/n mutters, Mitsuya chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah. I know.” Smiley was insistent on leaving early. And once he decides to do something, he does, and no one can stop him. “Don’t want to help out your brother and friend in need? How cruel.” Smiley teases. Y/n rolled her eyes. “I don’t care to help. But like I said, I’m worried.”

“Mhm. Me too.” Smiley nods. “I think you guys are too paranoid.” Mitsuya speaks up. “Those guys can handle it, they’re unreasonably strong. You two don’t have anything to worry about, they’ll pull through.” He says with a confident smile. “Of course there strong. That’s not what we’re worried about.” Y/n tells him. “It’s Souya, I’m mostly concerned with.” Mitsuya gives you a confused glance, before he could question you, Smiley spoke again.

“I bet he’s crying right about now.”

“Crying?” Mitsuya raises an eyebrow. “When Souya cries…he turns into a monster. He’s even stronger than me when that happens.” Says Smiley lowly. “He might up killing someone.” Y/n’s voice trembles slightly. Mitsuya was shocked. He had never seen Souya in a state like they’re describing. Was it really that serious? That intense? “There’s gonna be some pretty ruthless fighters there too.” Mitsuya sighs. “Especially those Haitani brothers. They’re no joke.”

Y/n froze. Haitani brothers? Did he mean…those brothers?

“Haitani brothers?” Y/n looks to him, Mitsuya noticed her near panicked expression. He nods. “Ran and Rindou Haitani. You know them?” No. No way. It couldn’t be them…it couldn’t be him fighting. Now Y/n had more than one reason to be worried. Her brother could kill someone, not only that, but he would be seriously injured by Rindou or he would end up seriously injuring Rindou.

She didn’t want either of those outcomes. She didn’t want her brother hurt.

“Y/n? Are you ok?” Smiley asks, noticing her shaking shoulders.

And she didn’t want her boyfriend to be hurt either.

Y/n had never been so sad, relived, and angry all at once like this before. Sad her brother Angry had suffered such serious injuries, relived that he came back alive, and angry that her boyfriend was the cause of it all. She knew Rindou was a delinquent, but he never said he was in a gang. Not only that, he was responsible for hurting her friends as well as her brother.

Eventually Y/n had to come clean about her relationship with Rindou. Mitsuya agreed to stay quiet about it for now, but advised she be honest with the rest of Toman at some point. As for Smiley and Angry. They were less than pleased. They didn’t blame her for not knowing Rindou was in a gang. But they weren’t happy about her dating him.

They didn’t control her, they knew at some point Y/n would get into a relationship if she chose to do so. But the fact she was dating Rindou of all people, made them unreasonably upset. Again. They can’t tell her what to do, but they made it clear they didn’t approve of her and his relationship.

And honestly. Y/n was on the fence herself. After that fight, she and Rindou hadn’t talked. Rindou had actually reached out to her a few days after, but she ignored him. The more he tried to call or text, the more she would ignore it. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him right now, let alone talk to him.

Eventually, it got to the point where she couldn’t ignore him anymore and agreed to meet up with him.

Rindou waited for Y/n at a near by park late that night. She snuck out of the house to see him, and when she arrived, she didn’t make the first move to speak. She just stared at him, taking note of his still recovering wounds on his face. Souya was responsible for that for sure. That fact alone slightly calmed and satisfied her anger.

Rindou finally spoke. “Hey…” Y/n nods her head. “I guess you found out. And that’s why you’ve been ignoring me.” Again, she nods. Rindou sighs. “I was going to tell you. But, I knew that you were in Toman at that point. You have to understand why it would be difficult for me to be honest.” It was true. Typically, two people from different gangs trying for a relationship, wouldn’t end well for anyone.

Y/n did understand that much. But she was still angry. Eventually she spoke. “A lot of that could have been avoided if you were just honest.” She muttered. “Could have saved us both a lot of heartache.”

“Would you have broken up with me if I told you?” Rindou asks. Y/n couldn’t ignore the slight tremble in his tone as he asked that. His expression might have seemed calm, but his body language said otherwise. He was tense, nervous, perhaps even scared.

“I…I don’t know.” Y/n sighed. She really did like him. He might have been a smug, sarcastic jerk sometimes. But he made her happy. And she made him happy, whether she knew it or not. Rindou likes her just as much, if not more. Which is why it was all the more painful to say these next words.

“I understand if you want to break up. It’s my own fault.” Rindou started. “I should have been honest from the beginning. That fight couldn’t have been avoided, but at least you could see me as just some other punk who was trying to hurt someone you loved.” He said, referring to her brother. And maybe there was some truth to that. If Y/n knew he was in a gang, maybe she would have put a stop to her feelings for him right then and there. She would have hated him for hurting her brother. She might have even tried to beat him down herself when she got the chance.

But Y/n be a liar if she said that was true.

Even if she did know from the start. She would have stilled loved him. It would have hurt, but she couldn’t ignore her feelings.

When you didn’t answer him right away, he sighed and tried to pay no mind to the deep ache in his chest. “I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry for lying to you Y/n.” Rindou says before turning to leave. Finally, Y/n made a move. She reached for his hand to stop him from going anywhere. Rindou freezes and looks back at her. “Y/n?”

“Don’t go making those kinds of decisions on your own. I’m not done with you yet.” She mutters, looking down at the ground, hiding her face and the tears that pooled in her eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.” She finally admits. Rindou felt her hand squeeze his as she spoke with a shaking voice. “I hate you for lying to me. And I hate you even more for hurting my brother. But…”

Finally the tears came streaming down her face. She couldn’t hide the sobs that left her while she spoke.

“I love you too much to let you go.”

Rindou wasted no time, he pulled her in and hugged her close to his chest, petting her hair soothingly as she cried. The two stayed in each others embrace for another moment before speaking again.

“I won’t go anywhere.” Said Rindou. “Not as long you want me to stay.”

Y/n sniffed. “Good. Also…”

Rindou looked down at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. He then groaned as he felt her fist collied with his gut. It wasn’t enough for him to double over in pain, but enough to get her point across.

“That’s for my brother you jerk!”

Rindou laughed weakly. “Yeah. I deserved that. Speaking of…” He held her a little tighter. “What do your brothers think about this?”

“They hate it.”

“Figures.” Rindou sighs. “I don’t blame them. I’d hate me if I were in their place. What are we gonna do now?” He asks. Y/n shrugs. “Only they and Mitsuya know. And they aren’t telling anyone, they want me to. But…” Y/n leans up and kisses Rindou on the cheek. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Rindou chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“You’re telling them too.”

“Huh!?”

“I’m not doing this by myself! It’s the least you can do for lying to me!” Y/n says firmly. Rindou sighs. “Alright. I’ll do it.” Y/n smiles warmly and nuzzles into his chest. “Good. I’ll hold you to it.” Rindou couldn’t help but smile too, he gave her a quick kiss on the head. “You better get home. I’m sure your brothers won’t be to happy about you sneaking out.”

“How are you so sure I snuck out?” Y/n asks. “Because since when do you do anything you’re not suppose to without being sneaky about it?” Rindou counters. “Fair.” Y/n shrugs. “Just a few more minutes though.” She says, hugging him tight. Rindou rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Whatever you say.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Hanley Waters: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Evaluations are here, and Hotch needs to make sure where everywhere is after Emily's death. You were able to busy yourself with the case in Tampa, but now you have to face reality and speak your mind.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

And happen it did. Not even hours later, there is another shooting. This time, it's at one of the checkpoints that the police have set up all over town. Only one officer was shot and another was nearly run down by the unsub. She was stopped and wasn't pulling forward so the officer who was shot approached her car. From what you can see on her face that's becoming clearer every time you connect with her energy, she's in full panic mode. Not panic like she'll get caught but panic for someone else. Panic like a mother would have.

The officer tried getting her out of the car when she shot him and almost ran over the other officer.

"The officer is in critical condition."

"Did anyone get a plate?"

"No, just a partial description. Teal green wagon. This woman opens fire in broad daylight at a police checkpoint."

Hotch takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"She's desperate. This was an act of survival. Where does this road lead?" Rossi asks.

"I-275. Florida Highway Patrol has traffic cams all the way to St. Pete. She won't get far."

"Two EMTs just got shot in Oakford Park," Hotch says.

"Where is that?"

"It's the opposite direction. She went back?"

"She's on a mission."

"Hotch, I think she's a mother. She's hurting like she lost something no mother should ever have to lose. A child," you say.

"I think you're right."

You head back to the station with Hotch, Rossi, and Thiers to meet up with the rest of the team.

"Her emotional turmoil appears to be manifesting in the geographic pattern of her spree. There's a reason why she hasn't left." Spencer pulls out the map he's been working on. "Her first was the gun store in west Tampa, then the security guard in Ybor City, then the officer at the checkpoint in Riverside Heights, then finally the EMTs in Oakford Park."

"There's no logic. She circled back after getting through a roadblock. She's driven purely by emotion. She doesn't care about self-preservation or escape. It's like she has nothing to live for."

"She suffered a loss and she's blaming someone else for it," you say. "My guess is she lost a child whether that be in death or because the child was taken from her."

There is enough for a profile, so Chief Thiers gathers his men and women to hear what your team has to say.

"We're looking for a white female between the ages of thirty and forty driving a teal green station wagon. The only thing that matters is her behavior which is random. She's all over the place. She could have escaped through that roadblock, but she circled back instead. This tells us she's got a score to settle. Here. Today."

"Like what?" Chief Thiers asks.

"When emotional decisions drive an unsub, it's usually connected to an incredible loss, the idea that there's nothing to live for. We believe that this woman's been through the devastating loss of a child," Hotch says.

"She woke up this morning, loaded up with bullets, and stole a gun. That is not a typical Wednesday. Today means something to her. She's been lashing out at the hero, and we believe that's because she feels deeply betrayed by the one who let her down."

"The fact that her anger seems to be focused on first responders instead of hospital personnel or doctors indicates that her child probably didn't die of natural causes. Most likely it was some kind of accident. If so, she believes he should have been saved but wasn't," you explain. "Rage like this has been built up over time, possibly years. It's debilitating. She probably hasn't been a functioning member of society since the loss of her child."

"This rampage was her final attempt to be heard. What she started ends today."

Not to your surprise, there are reports of another shooting, and Hotch puts the news on the TV.

"Police say this dangerous suspect has left a trail of blood behind her. After wounding an officer at a roadblock, she circled back and fired at two paramedics. Luckily she missed, keeping her body count at five. A source inside the Tampa PD told us FBI profilers have been brought in to help witht he investigation."

"We need to try to communicate with this woman directly," Hotch says.

"She's not talking. She's just shooting."

"She feels ignored," you say. "The media is sensationalizing the story. She'll continue to respond violently to regain control."

"She shot a cop. The men she's targeted are my responsibility."

"You asked for our help. Let us do our job." Hotch looks at you. "I want you to talk to her."

"Me?"

"You're our best bet. She's emotional and no one knows emotions better than you."

He's right but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Still, you put on a brave face and stand in front of the press once the conference is called. Hotch stands next to you as a sort of moral support, but this one is all on you.

"My name is Y/N with the FBI. Our team has come from Quantico, Virginia because we want to talk to you. We know that you have a personal message that you need to share with the world. All we ask is that you stop hurting people because we are listening." You look up from the cards and decide just to speak from the heart. "I know you're hurting like no one should be hurting. No mother should have to go through what you're going through. I need you to know that you are not alone. I know right now it seems like the whole world is against you but we're not. You see him everywhere, don't you? You hear him calling out to you. I'm here to tell you that it's normal to feel what you're feeling but if you don't want to feel this pain anymore, please call us at 1-800-555-0140. We will help you."

"Aren't we gonna get flooded by people calling that number?" Ashley asks from the sidelines.

"I am hawkeyeing the cell towers in her comfort zone. If anyone calls from there, I will know first and fast," Penelope responds.

An hour passes, then it turns to two. You're sitting in the police station trying your best to focus on the case. It's hard when all that's on your mind is Emily.

"There have been no leads on the hotline and no sign of her vehicle," Chief Thiers sighs.

"This woman obviously has a plan. The only clear decision she made this morning was walking into that gun store. There are eight of them in her comfort zone. Why choose that one?"

"Convinence," Ashley shrugs. "Maybe it's close to where she lives."

"If we're saying this morning is when she was the most clear-headed, then it was a conscious decision to walk into that particular store."

Penelope calls and Derek patches her through on speakerphone.

"I have hundreds of teal wagons. None of the registrations match the physical description of our unsub."

"What about the gun store?"

"I searched the entire history of Larry's gun shop. Nothing of significance has ever happened there aside from this morning's massacre. On top of that, those six hundred plus registered .38 owners bought them all over the city, so we're pretty much screwed unless you can think of some other kind of connection."

"This date means something to her. Pen, we profiled that it was a major loss. Run accident reports. Look for young victims. She seems to be going after heros like paramedics."

"I'm doing that now, but this will take forever. Tampa's got almost half a million people. Everybody's got a story. How am I even supposed to..." She pauses. "Oh. My superskills just squelched my pessimism. I have a couple of accidents here that happened in the last few years on or around today's date. Please hold while I deduce. This looks promising. Okay, there was a high-speed traffic chase in West Tampa last year. A policeman was killed."

"Who were they chasing?"

"Hanley Waters."

"Maybe he's the target."

"Can't be. He's in jail. He started a whole mess because he decided to do an armed robbery at a liquor store, and then have a high-speed car chase with the cops. Oh, there's video. It's three hundred and sixty-five days ago to the dot. I'm sending this to your tablets. Observe and prepare yourself."

You grab a tablet and watch the high speed chase from an arial view. Hanley runs a red light and smashes into a car that is in the middle of the intersection going a different direction.

"Who got hit?"

"Shelly Chamberlain. She was unhurt. Her six-year-old Damion died."

"That's her," you say.

"Today is... Damion's birthday."

"Your son enters and leaves your life on the same date. That's one hell of a stressor," Rossi sighs. "It explains why she went on her spree today. All the good and bad memories are hitting her at once."

"To add salt to it all, the fallen policeman was the only one who got any attention. Damion was like a footnote."

"If Shelly is our unsub and the man who caused this is in jail, then who's her target?"

"It might be Damion's father," you say. "If I had to guess, they were a happy family before this. She got hit and lost her son, and that ruined her marriage. They get divorced and he moves on while she's still stuck in the past. She's angry at her ex-husband for doing what she can't. It's just a guess though."

"It's a good guess," Hotch says. "Garcia, what's Shelly's marital status?"

"Don Chamberlain, city firefighter. He filed for divorce three months ago."

"He could be the next target of her rage, the man who didn't bear witness to her grief."

"Morgan and Y/N, you find him. Dave and I will go to Shelly's house."

Hotch and Rossi find the box of bullets that Shelly owns, but Don must have taken the gun when he moved out. Not only that, but the mirrors in the house have all been smashed. She can't stand to look at herself. She's guilty for surviving when her son didn't. She's got tired of waking up to feeling guilt, worthlessness, and hopelessness.

Though, her son's room is immaculate. Nothing has been touched. She can't bear to walk into that room. She can't let go.

When you get to Don's house with Spencer and Derek, you see Shelly's car in the driveway but Don's car is gone. She must have left with him somewhere.

"She beats us here and moved with him in his car. Why didn't she just kill him? She didn't travel with any of her other victims," you say.

"He must play some part in the fantasy of her rage. She wants to punish him for something."

You head inside and frown at the lack of pictures around. Don really doesn't want to remember the past.

"There is not a single reminder of Damion anywhere in this house. Do you think Don moved on already?"

"Would you after a year?" you ask.

"Look at this." You and Derek look at Spencer who is playing something on the TV. It's a video of the family including Damion. There is music where there should be talking. He most likely did it to cover his wife's voice. "Don edited it together and he put music to it. This is how he grieved."

"Yeah, but she wouldn't know that. She might force him to grieve the same way she does."

"Where? Their son's grave?" With a little more digging around, you come across a box of memories, all with Damion. Movie stub tickets, pictures, toys he loved. Everything about him. "Look at this." Inside is a bunch of receipts for the same restaurant. "It looks like they celebrated their son's third, fourth, and fifth birthday at Sir Burger."

"Her day is coming to an end, and today's an anniversary. That's gotta be where she's going. Let's go."

x

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[cursed2soul]

Platonic Yandere Gojo making reader cry

╔═══════ ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ ═══════╗

Tw: Yandere themes, abusive..?

He didn’t mean to, no. He didn’t want to be the reason for your tears.

You looked up at the ceiling, bored. You were tired of being locked up in your room with no freedom. You wanted to get out. To get out of your cage for loneliness.

Gojo was not dumb, he obviously let you have whatever you wanted, he loved you as a daughter after all. You were even allowed a phone but it was being monitored by a vpn.

You wanted to run away, to finally be free instead of being locked up all the time. You wanted to call for help but of course, no one is strong enough to defend you from Gojo Satoru. You’ll only get people killed so you decided that if you were going to escape, make sure you go far away as possible.

(First person pov)

A day ago, he was sent on a mission. I was left in this house alone. ‘This is a perfect opportunity….’

Without a second thought, i grabbed your own credit card and some money and shoved it in your pocket.

I had to act fast, there are cameras everywhere, he probably saw me picking up money and a credit card.

All the doors were locked, even the windows.

That leaves only one option…

I ran to Satoru’s room and towards a window. I slide it left and sure enough, it opened. I quickly jumped out before running.

‘If he catches me I’m dead’ I thought.

Running and running, I don’t dare to stop my feet. It’s been so long since i was last outside. Eventually, my legs gave out and I stopped by a park.

Panting, I feel someone put a hand on my shoulder.

I turn around to see Gojo…

“Uhhh…”

“I don’t want to hear it” he says. He grabs me and warps. Great, we’re back to where we started now…

(third person pov)

“Dear y/n…., why would you try to leave me?” Gojo started to say in a fake sweet tone, “I thought I’ve given you everything and a lot of freedom, perhaps you need to learn your lesson again, maybe then you’ll be grateful.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, remembering the last punishment for when she tried to escape. Punishment.that mean legs being broken, cuts all around her body and many purple bruises.

“…” you tried to say something, but no words came out. Why isn’t my mouth working..?

Gojo grabbed you by the arm and started to drag you into the basement, he had a tight grip on your own. His aura was now a scary one, you were trembling, but he didn’t notice it at all.

Once Gojo had dragged you into the basement with no trouble at all, he threw you to the other side of the room harshly, you winced at the pain and started to tremble even more. You were so scared, so scared to even say anything.

“w-why are you d-d-doing t-this…j-just l-let m-m-me f-free..” You managed to get out.

“Aww but why when you can be with me forever?” Gojo said in a teasing and dangerous tone.

“Maybe I-i d-don’t w-w-want to…t-t-then…”

it should be true. It had to be true.

For some reason, this made Gojo really angry, he saw red, he snapped.

Gojo started to violently yell as you started at him in fear, why did you say that? You didn’t entirely hate him. He was yelling a lot now, this scared you. He wouldn’t stop his violent roars.

He raises his hand up which caused you to quickly back away and cry.

He started at you surprised.

You started to cry hard, thinking he’s going to hit you but that hit never came.

“P-princess? Hey don’t be scared…”

his picked you up and sat down, cuddling you. “Shhh…it’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you, sorry for throwing and yelling at you…”

He feels bad, gojo feels bad. He wanted you to be happy, to love him but now he made you scared.

You tremble in his arms as you cry onto him, arms around his neck to hug back.

Gojo rubs circles on your back while whispering praises and reassuring words at you.

“Shhhh…I’m sorry I love you so much y/n….”

You hug him tighter, it’s really comforting. It shouldn’t be but it is..

“I won’t hurt you, dad loves you….”

You nod as you continue to hug him and cry, your tears were slowing down.

“Shhh, dad love you, dad will protect you and dad will keep you safe forever….even if you don’t want him to…”

╚═══════ ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ ═══════╝

[majorproblems77]

ITS LU UPDATE TIME!!!

AND IT IS ALL ABOUT SKY AND IM SO EXCITED :DDDDD

You know what that means! It means a long post by me! :D

Cant wait to be excited about my blorbo for like 30 minutes, so sit get some popcorn and like some earplugs cause i will try to contain my screaming but I've been waiting for more Sky stuff and I'm so excited!!!!

For point, and because I keep forgetting, all the panels I'll be talking about belong to JoJo and @linkeduniverse

Let's do this!

Alright lets get this out of the way first, I love some parallels right, So as per usual, if I need a panel from anything prior I'll let you know where it's from!

So what do you think he asked him.

Hey sir! Have you seen a guy with a big flag on his back going way to fast come through there?

Man is just like, oh yeah he went that way past the forge that your other weird fellows were at earlier.

He run, Then he hero stop. Power pose activated, target acquired. Then he run some more

Run my blorbo run!

Genuinely interested in what exactly this is, Is it a map? Is it a list of places? Is it a paper with time shift shenanigans in it?

I'm not versed in the postman, Is this normal, or did he do this cause he heard Sky and wanted him to think he was waiting?

This face has be dead. (/pos) I love him so much my dear blorbo its been too long since we saw you last.

Putting this together for 1 reason

Postman is a dick, Sky was so close, That can't be more than 10 or so metres at most. Poor man ran across Town out of town to catch up to you for you to go sprinting off into the woods, and my man is full on Olympic sprinting to deliver this mail geesus.

Also, the compulsory return of the king 🧍, Sky is the king of this pose and will not be beaten. Although Legend comes pretty close.

God the expressions in this update are top tier, Sky is just so expressive. Right now, Man is thinking why he does this to himself.

I'm fucking cackling, this art is amazing and Jojo's sister did an amazing job. Like I feel like I can hear this picture with that teasing tone that my siblings would use on me when we were younger. God I love it.

So even though Sky is looking towards Legend here, so I'm totally under the impression that Legend said Wahhhh, and Hyrule said I cant run. As Hyrule was with wars When they got split up initally. Poor Sky, man has become the butt of jokes. Im glad Four is giving them a look, He doesn't look impressed. Its okay Sky, you've got a friend in Four behind you. :D

War's is the real MVP of this arc in my opinion, Man has been in charge of the ragtag chain while Time has been out of action looking over Twilight. He's at the end of his tether.

Part of me wonders if this is going to impact his fighting going forward? Maybe he'll slip up because he's so stressed. He knows not all of them are knighted. These heroes he is with are NOT soldiers and he can't treat them as such.

And this sentence. Don't Interrupt! sounds like he is scolding rowdy recruits, rather than fellow heroes.

Which if you think about it, Sky is giving essentially a scouting report here, He scouted ahead and has returned to speak about his findings. War's is a captain, in his era he's a commanding officer. He's taken reports of this kind before.

Having a panel with Time, Wild and Twilight in Gives me more life than i think i give it credit for. (I am in the crowd that there's a family connection between these three.)

It's also nice to see Wild, like genuinely smiling.

Moving on

Hero pose again! :D

I love this man

These panels are very important to me so give me a moment while I explain.

Sky probably has her words engrained in his mind. You can see the questioning look, and thinking. "Is this going to work?"

That eternal dream That he's talking about, he knows her power is faded, but he's going to try anyway. I just didn't think he would use it to track what I can only assume is the postman.

It's really nice to have Sky's relationship with the master sword put on display. It means a lot to me and has brought me great Joy through this update.

He cares about her. And even if she can't talk to him anymore. He still trusts her to lead him true.

And this panel breaks my heart! Something inside of him probably really hoped Fi would speak to him or give him more of an indication. Sky looks so sad.

I just wanna hug him, and tell him it'll be alright. He's probably thinking about turning around at this point. Maybe he's thinking about how some members of the chain perceive Fi.

A soulless weapon.

(Or maybe im thinking too much into this)

The way his faith is restored!

Fi did lead him! She did! She's still there somewhere, and his shock! Oh my boy. My sweet blorbo,

And having used like super zoom on that last panel, MY BOY IS SMILING! :D

RUN BLORBO RUN I BELIEVE IN YOU!

(Also appreciation for the full body shot's we've got of Sky from this update, I love it so much I love him so much.)

Did I go hunting for the references, Yes I Did.

I think the following area is the area where they pull Twilight too, rather than the battle field and he then moved on from here to get to the battle field.

From sunset pt4

The pillar behind Sky has the only slant I can think of. It looks to be the same angle, but that could just be me.

If it is that location, it might be closer to that battlefield than we originally (Or at least I originally) assumed.

(If you've got any other places let me know!)

God i love him

Blorbo beloved! Is about as shocked as i am with the whole Mailman thing.

The confidence of this man is unreal. He's ready, he's moving he's going. He's going and ain't going to stop.

Me absolutely yelling at how this portal looks, it so ANGRY, But we know the Shadow is pissed right now. And if the shadow is making these portals and he's angry. I think the chain might be in for a surprise as they move on to the next location.

Which if I have to be honest. I think is going to be Skyloft. I think we are moving into a Sky arch, having had a Twilight Arc. (I also really want to see Skyloft in this universe, and there's an opportunity here. We've had more master sword things. We've had Sky content. who knows where Jojo will take this next, but I'm excited either way.)

Finally back to the chain! :D

The gremlins return :D

Wind's little 3:< face as he's thinking is giving the energy of an upcoming detective arch, He is thinking and he is thinking HARD okay.

Poor Sky. Man has been running around doing all the hard work while the rest of them just enjoy themselves. Hyrule especially is kinda like 'Ohhh... our bad...'

It's actually a kinda guilty look, maybe he feels a little bad about the teasing from earlier?

Now i gotta mention the potion thing, cause its just so damn funny not too. Sky my blorbo slow down you are gonna choke on the stamina potion.

But.

I want to focus on War's here.

And Wild too.

These two. These two are important.

Wild has gone from happy and chill vibes to Oh shit real quick.

After everything he put into the Shadow, while the shadow was injured and watched as the thing exploded. It just decided to come back or something. And Wild, here I imagine is thinking, "How was that not enough..."

Now Wars.

War's is Stood not looking at anything, In fact, I think he's looking past Time. The last thing he said was a two word scolding but apart from that he's been awfully quiet. Now he looks like he's thinking. He's closed off, protective.

The only time I can see where he does this is when he's in what I'm going to call, 'Captain mode.' So, When he's flicked something in his head that tells him he has to be a knight.

He dosent do it often, in fact from what I can see he does it 4 other times.

In order

Devine dark reflections pt 8 - when he's talking about knighthood with Sky and Hyrule

Sunset pt11 - When talking about Wild, and the fact that he's left

Sunset pt13 - When speaking to Twilight about pulling his own weight

Dawn pt 2 - when Twilight is talking about the team they are.

And now here in Dawn 7 - Where they are discussing the fact that an enemy they fought escaped or survived.

All conversations I would assume a captain would have to have with his men at one point or another. I wonder what He's thinking here. It's got me thinking.

Woah, So this took me longer than I thought. I am on the 4-hour mark now. Lmaoooo

Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for listening to me ramble for like 20 minutes.

And just remember

Sky is the sweet bestest blorbo beloved and I love him. :D

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[sevenwishesonshootingstars]

First Contact

This is sort of a prequel to the thing I wrote with Freminet. Reader is at the grocery store and is witness to a vision holder suddenly appearing right outside but, as per sdrgau (credit to @arn9tails), they’re concerningly tall. I decided to write Venti into this one because a while ago I was using a namewheel to decide what genshin characters I should draw interacting with one of my ocs, particularly a mini version of her, and the wheel landed on him three damn times. Then I chose another wheel with more characters and that one also landed on him at least once. So probability is apparently insistent that he meets someone very small. Perfect opportunity. 

Plus, given that his main thing is freedom, he’s probably one of the best guarantees for Earthlings to not get super fucked in this au and is the perfect first appearance in an integration timeline. I also may or may not have had a certain person in mind when I chose him but that's neither here nor there. It was embarrassing and harder to write though so please enjoy it.

You walked back and forth, past isle ends in search of a particular crayon shaped tamarind candy. You were sure that you’d seen them here before, but of course now that you came with the intention to get them they were nowhere to be seen. You checked one last time and sighed. No way you were going to keep doing this and have people start staring at you. Slightly dejected, you walked over to the ice cream freezer. After a few minutes of silent debate, you opened it up and picked out a watermelon flavored popsicle. 

Usually the place was a lot busier at this time of day. It was the only grocery store in the area since the only other one closed a few years ago, and people would stop by for after school snacks or ingredients for dinner. You didn’t come here for most of your grocery shopping since it was too expensive sometimes, usually driving to a larger store in the city right next to yours, but you came often enough to know it would normally be packed. For some reason, there were only about half the usual amount of people there today.

You went up to one of the registers, responding to a half-hearted good afternoon with one of your own and setting down the popsicle to be checked out. You started to pull some money out of your wallet when a sudden tremor ran through the ground, causing you to stiffen up and pause. “I’m not the only one that felt that, right?” you asked the air. The person at the register shook their head, glancing behind them towards the exit. “Is it an earthquake? It didn’t really feel like what I would have expected though…” they murmured.

Everyone in the store was murmuring and muttering about the tremor. “Well, we’re not in an area where it would get bad so it’s probably not something we have to worry too much about right now,” they said uncertainly as you gave them the money. You took your popsicle and stepped away from the register, doing a quick google search. So far there were no reports about any kind of earthquake watch, warning, or activity in the area. 

You walked out of the main area of the store and stepped outside only to stop abruptly at the sight before you. You heard a familiar high pitched but strangely loud voice say, “Oh! I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I think I might have finally drank too much…” Frozen in place, you slowly lifted your head to look up, dropping your popsicle when your eyes confirmed what you suspected. “What.”

He apparently heard you, the wind carries even here, and he turned slightly to look behind and down at you. As the people in the parking lot were, understandably, freaking out and hurrying to get as far away as possible, you stood there staring up at the bard. “Hello there,” he said. You gave an unsure and hesitant wave. “Could you tell me—”

Before he could finish the question, you’d already turned on your heel and darted back inside the store. You could see him standing there in confusion. You ducked, crouching next to the window, and put your face in your hands.

This was absurd. You weren’t sure if you should laugh or cry. With a hand over your mouth, you muttered to yourself between confused laughs. “Was that… was that Venti the bard from…” you wheezed. “From Genshin Impact?” You peeked out of the window, your body shaking with confused laughter. “Why is he… tall…” That was an understatement, but you could barely get out a proper sentence. Your eyes landed on the watermelon popsicle, laying on the ground and you remembered where you were. You took deep breaths and ran your hands along the ridges of the window frame in an attempt to ground yourself. Okay, you thought. There’s a genshin character in the parking lot. And he’s taller than the store. You hadn’t even said it out loud, and it still sounds absolutely ridiculous. 

Another peek out the window revealed that the bard was currently trying to convince the people in the parking lot that he was not in fact there to kill everyone. You turned around, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. You knew that while he was capable of fighting, he certainly wasn’t the type to be needlessly violent. Unfortunately, it seemed like you were the only person here who knew that. 

“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, pushing yourself up from the ground. You walked back out of the store, glancing around at the people in the parking lot who were, again understandably, freaking out. Venti was crouched down, trying to assure everyone he came in peace. “There's no need to panic,” he tried, holding his hands up defensively. “I'm but a harmless bard.”

Admittedly, you raised an eyebrow at the word harmless. Even without being the size of a building for some unknown reason, he was far from harmless. Even more so now with whatever this was. Walking around to get in front of him, you realized it wasn't that surprising he said that. This was the same guy who said he was totally the weakest archon guys. For sure. And in his defense, it probably wouldn't do much good to remind this panicking public of the obvious that he was in fact far from harmless. 

“Excuse me!” you called up to him after a moment of prep to force the words out. He looked down at you and seemed mildly relieved to find someone who didn't look like they were on the verge of screaming their head off or doing it already. Meanwhile, you were thinking about how much you were going to sue hoyoverse for. 

He lowered himself a bit closer to the ground,  and you, and spoke in a still loud whisper. “Oh, hello! We meet again! I was going to ask where I am, but it seems there's a more pressing matter at hand.” You nodded awkwardly. 

“Do you think you could help me out a bit?” the bard asked, tilting his head. You watched his braids sway for a moment, for some reason imagining somebody climbing them like in the Rapunzel story. “Sure, I guess … they're probably more likely to listen to one of their own than a giant twink,” you muttered. “A giant what?” he asked, but you had already turned away. 

The people who had been in the parking lot had all already ran or driven away, and you suspected that the police were probably on the way. The people inside the store, however, were still hiding from him. You sighed and walked up to the store, stopping in front of the doors. 

Your head hung, leaving you staring at the ground while you tried to prepare yourself to speak. You were trembling. All you should have had to do was open your mouth and speak so why was it so hard? You have this problem sometimes, when it suddenly becomes a struggle to speak. Sometimes when you're nervous, sometimes when you're upset. It's very different from those moments when you feel more comfortable staying silent, when you don't even feel like opening your mouth. You can still talk then, even if you don't want to, but in times like this it takes multiple tries to get out a few words. This is where your dreams of voiceless pleas come from, you're sure of it.

Your mouth opens but you remain silent, and it really feels like the words are stuck in your throat. Like the sounds are physical obstruction trapping themselves in your throat. You feel nauseous too. You should have said something by now. You look around and try again to get the words out. Why can't you just—

“Are you okay?” you hear that familiar yet out of place voice ask. He's leaned down further, his head tilted and turned to look at you. He reached over and lightly poked your shoulder, startling you and even causing you to stumble. You look at him wide-eyed, and he frowns slightly. “Okay, clearly not. Sorry.”

You stare at him, catching your now heavy and shaking breaths. The bard pulls his hand away and sits up. “I'm not sure what's happening right now, but if it helps I'll move back a bit,” he said as he shifted. You felt the tremors from his movement and leaned against the building for some stability. 

“I didn't mean to put ya on the spot there,” Venti says apologetically. “I'll figure something out. After all, I'm no stranger to an audience,” he adds with a small smirk. You nod and walk away from the doors, still at the front of the building and against the wall but not as close to him or the entrance. 

He looks around the parking lot, seemingly trying to find a way to adjust without breaking anything. He pauses, his hands hovering near a car. “Is it okay if I move this… whatever it is?” 

You blinked, suddenly being hit again with the realization of the vision holder's… unique size. He could pick up a car. You blinked again and tilted your head. After a few minutes of him waiting awkwardly for an answer, probably expecting a simple head motion, you found yourself able to get some words out. You never understood why this happened, what made it pass, but it was welcome. 

“I… wouldn't advise it? But I guess it's fine as long as you don't break them? Just be careful with it,” you warned. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Do you take me for some brute?” he asked with a smirk. “Don't you trust this face?” You raised an eyebrow and refrained from saying no.

He carefully lifted one of the vehicles, which probably didn't help his case in the eyes of the shoppers, but whatever. He stopped for a moment to turn it slowly in his hands and inspect it with curious eyes. You were reminded of a child discovering something new when he peered through the windshield and asked, “By the way, what do you call this? I saw some of the people get into these and leave in them.”

You tilted your head in thought. You never thought you'd have to explain a car to Venti from genshin impact, but here you were. Maybe next you'd have to explain a computer to Zhongli while you're at it. “It's a car. It's basically a mechanical wagon,” you explained. He carefully set it to the side. “Sounds like something that would be in Fontaine.”

“Just don't break any.”

After a couple of minutes, he had moved about half of the remaining cars in the lot so they were out of the way. Now that there was room for him to do so, he was able to lay on his stomach to be more level with the door and the people inside. His legs were bent up behind him and his head was resting in his arms, reminding you of a schoolgirl. 

“Attention, mini people,” he announced while you gave a mildly insulted look at his word choice. “I mean no harm. I'm but a humble bard who has accidentally stumbled upon …  wherever this is. I harbor no hostility. Only songs of every kind,” he said with a wink. 

The shoppers were not impressed. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your giggles when you heard someone cough. You even thought you heard someone say his voice was annoying. He frowned and glanced at you, getting an idea. 

The smile slipped off your face when you saw the look on his. With a mischievous grin, he reached over towards you. “No, no, no,” you said sternly, trying to shut down whatever he was planning. “It's just for a moment, I promise,” he said as he started to nudge you closer to himself and the door with his hand. “You don't even have to speak. Just a thumbs up will do.” You reluctantly inched closer until you were standing in front of him. 

“They can vouch for me,” the bard said with a cheeky grin. Your jaw dropped at the way he volunteered you like that. You glared at him and stepped towards the door. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to speak. 

You opened your mouth and nothing came out. You tried again. You'd get it eventually. You never got why you sometimes could speak and sometimes couldn't, but you're relieved now to hear your voice on the fourth try. “He's not gonna hurt anyone. He's just here by accident… he's just as confused as we are, but he's not here to do anything bad.”

The person who was at the register stepped forward with a tilted head and raised brow. “Are you sure? It looked like you didn’t even want him to touch you…” they said, making a small gesture for you to take the chance to get inside where it was safe. A few other people seemed to agree with them though. “If he's safe to be around then how come you were avoiding his hands?” a man asked. 

A little girl peeked out from behind the man, seemingly excited by the whole ordeal. The spark in her eyes whispered to you how curious and clever she was. She wanted to meet Venti, you could tell by the way she was standing, ready to run over. But the man, likely her father, wouldn't consider that unless the bard was proven safe. And so for the proof and the spectacle, the little girl asked with a grin, “If he's so nice, why don't you let him pick you up?”

“Wait, what—” The crowd was already considering it. They too were eager to kill the birds of proof and spectacle with this single stone. “Maybe she has a point,” a woman said with her hand to her chin in thought. “If you trust him enough to do that then maybe we'll trust him to not kill everyone. Maybe.” Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Damn it.

Venti grinned at you, blinking in a silent “pretty please.” He extended his hand toward you and glanced at it. You stared at his hand, open and waiting. So much money, you thought. I am going to sue hoyoverse for so much fucking money. 

You turned towards his hand, making a face. Man, you just wanted some tamarind candy. What is this? Why? You took a step towards it, resisting the urge to give him and the kid a glare. Once you're within a few feet of his hand, he scoops you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. 

A few people rush forward at the sound of your distress. You look down at them with an awkward smile and a half-hearted thumbs up. “I'm… I'm alright,” you assured, recoiling from the edge of his hand at the sight of how high you were.

As though to mock you, he moved back from the building and sat up, bringing you even higher. “See, everyone? Harmless,” he said with a wink. He held you next to his head and smiled as though posing with you for a photo. “Look! We're practically best friends already.”

The crowd began to exit the store to look up at him and watch. The little girl pulled the man along with her to go get a closer look at the archon. He set you back down and started introducing himself to those who would listen, which was a surprisingly high number of people. 

You walked back over to the building and let your back rest against the wall. You closed your eyes. It was a good thing that (almost) everyone had calmed down, but you still had no idea what was going on. How was a game character here? Was he even still a game character anymore? What did that mean about the game itself? Did hoyo have something to do with this? Did hoyo even know about this? Why, and this was the biggest—pun not intended—was he so damn big? None of this even makes sense. You felt ready to collapse like crumpled sheets. “You alright?” you heard the person from the register ask. You gave a faint nod. “Do you… know that guy?” they asked. You laughed. “Something like that…”

A little while later, after more of the people had calmed down and gotten used to the bard’s presence, he leaned over, propping himself up with one arm. “So, since I’m actually not hallucinating this or in a coma, and this strange world full of tiny people is real, that means I actually haven’t drank too much,” he said to the crowd. “And I just happened to end up in front of a store so this is surely fate. Now could someone tell me: does this store happen to sell alcohol?”

This was oddly difficult to write, but maybe that’s because I was writing it in between doing a bunch of other things. I tried to keep the characterization of [Name] fairly similar to in “Try to Unwind, You Two” because they’re meant to be the same person. I decided to give them trouble speaking because it’s something I deal with, and if I have to deal with it, so do they.

[retromotherfuckers]

If You Win Or Lose

Characters:

morgan winchester (OC), john winchester, sam and dean are only mentioned, will mciver (OC)

Summary:

after the death of the boy she loves, morgan runs away. but nothing lasts forever.

Warnings:

SPN typical alcohol abuse & violence, themes of mental illness, parental abuse, MAJOR gaslighting, character death. please let me know if i missed anything

Word Total:

2,425

A/N:

you don't need to read When The Sun Sets to understand this. this is a one shot within that universe, but it predates that series, and also the show itself

it is of my humble opinion that john was an abuser, even if the show refused to acknowledge that. this is essentially an insight into his and morgan's relationship

so yeah, this one ain't too happy. i don't think i'm capable of writing happy shit 💀

morgan may have fallen in love w a dude but our girl is not straight

italics are flashbacks or thoughts

dean: 19, morgan: 18, sam: 15

Four fingers of whiskey fill and drain over and over. In the shitty hotel bar, she sat up against the decaying oak wall in a flimsy chair. A hazy world surrounded her, everything moving in slow motion. The few other stragglers had no notion of what was brewing in her mind - the darkness that shrouded her eyes, making colors look muted in the small neighborhood. It seemed no one knew how much she depended on the amber liquid to keep things still.

Morgan had been around people all her life, but she'd never once felt a real kind of companionship with them. She knew her brothers cared because they had to; she knew they tried. She just wished that when they asked if life was okay, they'd somehow know her answer was bullshit. That they'd somehow cut off the lies spilling from her lips and just say that they know.

But Sammy was only fifteen. He wasn't old enough to really be able to tell, and if he could, she was the older sister. What she said was what he believed. And Dean was Dean. Not the best emotional support person.  

They never did catch it, and that was the point. As long as she said she was fine, they believe it because that's what they want to hear. They didn't want to know that she hadn't felt like her home was her home in years. Even if that home was the rumble of an engine and cassettes so loud, she couldn't hear herself think. 

They didn't know that she had done things only the lowest of the low would even think of just to keep moving. They don't want to know that the only reason she got out of bed was so she could ease the hangover from the night before. They didn't want to know how hard it was to ask when it was her turn for anything better than this and to keep getting ignored. They didn't want to know that her real reason for living was gone but that his dying wish was for her to keep going. 

"Just promise me you'll try."

They didn't want to know that sometimes she could hurt so bad that she stopped feeling anything at all. That she knew her heart was still beating, but her lungs had stopped pumping oxygen. That waiting for her eyes to stop feeling so heavy while she watched the world spin was worse than actually being a part of it. And even with all that frigid emptiness, there was a widening hole in her chest where a person used to be. And now that he was gone, the ceiling was about to cave in, and all she had left to hold it up was a little white bag and a bottle.

"Where the hell have you been?" The familiar voice broke her from her thoughts, the same that had been repeating for months, on and off, like a scratched record. She didn't have to look up to see who it was. She knew that voice. It's half of the voices that raised her, but not the one who deserved the credit.

She didn't acknowledge him, stuck staring at her drink. His voice made her shiver, and she was too much of a damn coward to face him. "Around."

"Really?" John said, his tone hardening with her one-word response. "'Cause to me, it looks like you ran away and went missing like a child. For. Two. Months."

She took a large gulp of her drink, almost downing the whole thing in one go. She had rehearsed this conversation countless times, waiting for the flash of civilian life to end and for him to find her. But now that it was happening, she felt like a fishing boat in a storm, tossed around by waves of fear and wrath.

Her father's gaze was oppressive, cold, and unyielding. Green eyes cut into her, making her feel like he was staring right through her. She always felt small around him. He had always known the right words to use to humiliate her.

"Let's go," He ordered, not even sitting down. It was like he knew this wasn't even a discussion to be had. She would obey, and that was the end of it. "The boys are waiting."

"Dad," Morgan began, her voice shaky and horse. "I'm not going back."

She could imagine John's lips curled into a sneer as his eyes bore into her. Daring her to defy him more. "You don't get a choice. You're coming. That's final."

Morgan felt a surge of anger. "Why can't you just let me be? I know what's good for me more than you do."

John stepped closer, his face inches from hers. "You belong with your family, not out here alone when we're not there to protect you. I taught you better than that."

It wasn’t praise. John Winchester wouldn’t know praise if it bit him in the ass. He did teach her better than that, and since she’s deliberately not following orders, she’s less than worthless.

She recoiled slightly, the familiar pang of anxiety twisting in her gut. "This isn't about family, dad, it's about-" She fumbled over her words, unsure if she could say it, but hoping for some surge of courage she hadn't had her whole life. "It's about how you can't stand that I'm walking around without you making my own decisions. You just wanna control me-"

John's hand lashed out, slapping the counter beside her, making her visibly flinch and effectively cutting her off. "After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me? I don't need to control you; you need me to do it. To keep you alive," he sneered. "And the running away from your shit and pretending we don't exist just proves it."

Morgan's eyes welled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "Everything you've done," Her voice shook as she spoke. "You've done for yourself and your twisted little fantasy of finding the thing that killed Mom."

He grabbed her wrist, his grip like a vise. "Oh, yeah? And what do you think you can do to stop me?" She yanked her arm free, the skin already bruising. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of doubt. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step closer, his shadow enveloping her. "You're making a big mistake, Morgan. You'll regret this."

She took a deep breath, her resolve wavering. The sooner she got away, the better. "The only mistake I made was not getting out earlier."

As she turned to leave, John's hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and keeping her still. His voice was low and twisted with fury. The deep growl and the warmth of his breath in her ear made chills run up her spine.

"You think you can just walk away from me?"

Morgan's heart sank into her stomach. It wasn't a threat, but she could feel one coming. Her strength was slipping away, the familiar terror clawing at her mind. She'd never be able to hide from him for too long. Just look at her now, it had only been two months.

She was smart. But John was smarter.

"You're coming home, whether you like it or not." He took her stunned stillness as his queue to spin her around, forcing her chin up to look at him. She'd probably have marks on her jaw from how tight he was holding her. "You're really gonna leave us to fend for ourselves? You're so damn selfish-"

"I haven't been selfish a day in my fucking life-"

Her father scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Well, by your logic, you're picking the wrong time to start." He got closer if it was even possible, and he looked at her like she was the dirt he loved to walk over. "Will's dead, Mo, and it's your fault. I told you not to go on that hunt alone, but what did you fucking do? You ignored me, like always. When are you gonna learn that you need me? Boy-Toy's not coming back, you saw to that. Stop wasting everyone's time and get over it."

Boy-Toy. That's all John saw him as now. Even though he liked to call Will's parents the closest people he had to friends besides Uncle Bobby. 

Will had been with them for a year and a half when his parents died. They were helping him look for his aunt, the only family he had left. Only problem was they only knew her first name and that she was his mother's sister. So Will, Morgan and Sam searched for his aunt, while John and Dean searched for the demon.

For a while, things were okay. John was slightly more neutral when Will was around, starting fewer arguments and hitting them less. But when he walked in on them hooking up, Dean had to haul her father off of the boy. And then off of Morgan, too.

Two months ago, Morgan was desperate to prove herself to her father. Dean had already completed three solo hunts as a trial run. John wanted to see what he was capable of. Dean surpassed his expectations, as he always did. A rougarou, two vengeful spirits and a vampire taken care of in three weeks.

Will hadn't wanted to go on that hunt without help, but Morgan was frantic. She had to show her father what she was made of, but when Will discovered her plans, he was not going to let her do it alone. 

The air is thick with tension, each step bringing them closer to the lair of the wendigo they've been tracking for days. The forest is dense, moonlight barely piercing the thick canopy above. The silence of the night is broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

"Are you sure about this?" Will whispers, his voice barely audible.

Morgan turns to him, her blue eyes fierce and determined. "Yeah! We can do this, I swear."

They press on, the beam of their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Suddenly, a chilling growl echoes through the trees. Their hearts start racing as they tighten their grip on their chosen weapons. They're close.

The wendigo lunges out of the shadows, its eyes glowing with a malevolent type of starvation. Will fires his shotgun, but the creature is too fast. It knocks him to the ground, claws slashing through his shirt.

"Will!" Morgan screams, rushing to him. He struggles beneath the wendigo's weight, blood pooling from his wounds.

"Go!" He shouts, but his words are so garbled she hears her name, like a plea. "It's too strong!"

And Morgan can't leave him; he knows she would never. She swings her machete with all her strength, striking the creature's back. It howls in pain, momentarily distracted. Will uses the opportunity to push it off him, but the wendigo retaliates with a vicious swipe, its claws sinking deep into his chest.

"No!" Morgan drops to her knees beside Will as the wendigo retreats into the shadows. "No, no-"

Will's breathing is ragged, and he squeezes his eyes shut in distress. "Mo... I'm sorry..."

"Don't talk like that," she says, tears already streaming down her face. "You're gonna be okay, you'll be fine. We'll get you back to Dean. He'll know what to do."

Will reaches up, his hand trembling as he gently touches her cheek. His eyes are wet, too, but he quickly tries to hide the pain he's in. He graces her with a smile, but it's gone as fast as it appears. 

"Remember when Dean was giving me shit for how long my hair is?" He waits for her to nod. It doesn't take her so long to react because she doesn't remember. She takes a few extra seconds because she can't figure out why he's bringing that up right now. "You shut him up so fast," he says with a strained laugh. "You definitely liked me first."

Morgan chuckles through her tears, but the light memory doesn't last too long in her mind.

He's dying he's dying he's dying

"But I love you, Mo...please...remember that."

"Stop it. You don't get to say that as a goodbye," she demanded, but her voice didn't have the force to make it believable. "You're not allowed to tell me you love me and then die. It's not fair."

"I'll be okay," he rasps. "Just promise me you'll try. Promise me…" His voice fades from there. He has more he wants to say, Morgan can tell, but he used up all his strength.

"Will, please," She begs, her words cracking. "Don't-"

But Will's eyes flutter closed, his hand falls lifelessly to the ground, and Morgan screams.

She doesn't have it in her to set up a pyre. Will doesn't want that. He says it feels barbaric to him. He came from a hunting family and knew it was to prevent the possibility of becoming was a vengeful spirit, but he’s never wavered. He wants a real burial, like normal people have. He wants his family and friends there; they don't have to say anything, just be there.

"It just doesn't feel right, you know? We should be returned to the earth and all that crap. It's more…I don't know, peaceful."

Hours later, as dawn breaks, she buries him under an oak tree. She stands alone - yet another way she's letting him down. Her heart and mind are in tatters, her tears mingle with the soot. She can't face her family, not after what just happened. She can't bear her father’s inevitable punishment. Or her brothers’ pity. Or the possibility that they hate her for letting their friend die.

With one last look at the makeshift grave, Morgan turns and walks away, the shadows of the forest swallowing her whole. She doesn't know where she's going, only that she has to keep moving.

She looked into her father's eyes and saw the unyielding force of his will. In that moment, she knew she had lost.

Defeated, she lowered her gaze, closed her eyes and barely whispered, "Okay."

John's grip loosened slightly, a triumphant smile creeping across his face. Harder than necessary, he slapped her shoulder in appreciation. "Good girl. Now pack your shit. We're leaving in a half hour."

As Morgan turned towards the exit, she felt the weight of his victory settle over her like a cloak. The life she thought she might have wanted crumbled away, leaving only the cold, harsh reality of her father's world. She walked slowly, each step feeling like a surrender, her heart heavy with the knowledge that, for now, he had won.

[pigeonwhumps]

The Little Android

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

My entry for the Once Upon a Blade anthology by @thewhumpyprintingpress (which is really good btw, you should buy it if you can) which I've been meaning to post for months.

An android whump retelling of The Little Matchgirl by Hans Christian Anderson.

1.2k

CWs: android whump, torture, dehumanisation, slavery, denial of basic needs, threats of death, implied major character death

The android sits down against the wall of a crowded metal walkway, box of batteries in its hand. One arm is made up of loose wires and artificial nerve endings left when the attachment was ripped from its socket, and as they brush against the wall they send a jolt of pain through its systems, almost causing it to drop the box. If only its owner had deactivated its pain circuits after the experiment was completed, but he thought they would be useful to control it. And as a synthetic life form, it does not have the right to deactivate them itself.

It needs to sell these batteries. Oh, they look so tempting, they could power it for the day it’s sure, it would have constant heating and a properly working voice and its power wouldn’t flicker out so often. But it’ll get credits if it sells them, and it’s therefore less likely to end up on the scrap heap.

It tries for eight point seven hours, but it doesn’t make a single credit. Passers-by barely give it a second glance. If it’s lucky. Some step around it with a wide berth, giving it dirty looks and whispering behind their hands (sometimes not even whispering, it doesn’t matter, it’s not a human after all). A few teenagers make a game of tugging at its exposed nerve endings to see who can make it scream the loudest, and nobody stops them, they just look annoyed at the noise. It’s moved on by security more than once.

Finally the lights in the station switch to night mode, dimming and turning slightly orange, reducing the blue light. Usually the android would adjust its vision to compensate so it could keep working with ease but that function no longer works.

The place it was last moved along to, where it is now, gets almost no night traffic. There’re no shops or clubs or living hubs, there’s no reason to come here unless you’re maintenance staff, who can’t, or won’t, buy from it anyway. There’s no point staying.

Except if it goes back to the shop with no credits again, it will be deemed useless and stripped for parts. Maybe even without its pain circuits being deactivated first.

Its power flickers out for a few seconds. When it restarts, the android is on the floor. It doesn’t know how long it was out, which is unnerving but common recently.

Maybe just a little boost of battery power. Just to keep it going.

It chooses a battery, unwraps it with stiff, creaky fingers, and plugs it into a port on its side.

The power zaps around its body and it feels a simulation of warmth for the first time in so long. It’s almost comfortable.

In the distance, it sees its makers’ workshop. They’re laughing and joking together as they start up the charger, preparing to test parts that the android knows are custom-made. It used to help with the more dangerous parts of the job, before they ran out of money and were forced to sell it.

It feels so warm and cosy, and as the light envelopes it, it opens its mouth to speak.

The light disappears. The warmth disappears. The android tries to hang on but it must have had a power surge in its decision-making module.

It feels even colder now. Any warmth is gone, any semblance of care from someone else. What does it have in its life, really? No-one does anything except order it around and stimulate its pain circuits. Nobody even interferes when the pain is malicious. Not anymore.

It takes out another battery. If it’s going to be scrapped anyway it might as well make it worth it.

As soon as it’s plugged in, the station disappears. It’s inside a charging station, one of the ones for VIPs and their androids. It had a job cleaning these, once. Mobile charging packs, as much premium oil as the android can drink, oiled joints, comfortable places to stand or sit… it has dreamed about them, sometimes. It was allowed to drink the last dregs of oil and it really was premium.

This one is busy with humans in fancy clothes and the latest models, so much more advanced than itself. No-one is paying attention to the android, and it walks through the central aisle, approaching a serving station. It reaches out a hand for an oil can, wires jittering in anticipation at the taste, the feel of its body afterwards—

The illusion fades.

The android is left cold and alone on the floor of the space station. There’s not much use for softness for androids but oh, how it wishes. It’s been so long since it had oil, only getting just enough lubrication to stop it from rusting entirely. It doesn’t deserve anything more until it starts to be useful. But it won’t be, and it just feels empty.

It’s startled out of its reverie by a beep beep beep of warning. Its power is depleting even faster than normal. If it doesn’t get to a charging point soon it’ll power down for good.

Surprisingly, the android finds itself not caring overly much anymore. What does it have to go back to, after all?

The android plugs in another battery.

It’s on a starship deck in night mode. The observation deck. It’s always wished to be stationed on one of these. It’s charging against a wall, sitting down, and it can see the stars.

They’re bright spots against the darkness, mostly, but in the distance it can see nebulas, colourful clouds of dust and stars. That’s when it realises its vision is fixed. It can see properly, for the first time is years. Who bothered to fix that?

Then reality hits it. Nobody did. The android here, the one with the fixed vision and someone who cares and such a good posting, it doesn’t exist. This is a dream. An illusion. Something it’ll never get.

It touches its reflection in the glass, feeling a pang from somewhere inside that shouldn’t exist. It’s been fixed, like a patchwork, different colours and textures of paintwork, but it’s more than it will ever really have, more than it deserves. Engine oil leaks slightly from the edges of its vision sensors. Good quality oil too. It really is getting the best on this dreamship.

It can feel itself fading. Its consciousness is fading. And it’s nowhere near a power socket really, so it’ll deactivate permanently this time.

But it doesn’t have anything to lose. There’s no-one who cares, no-one who won’t take it apart for scrap as soon as it returns with no credits and barely any batteries. No-one will mourn it if it stays here. Someone will take the batteries and someone will take its parts and they’ll sell both but they won’t care. What’s the point?

The android sinks back down, leaning back against its comfortable charging wall. It closes its eyes for the last time to an exploding supernova.

The science doesn’t really make sense. But it’s far too tired to care.

[skylarmoon71]

Amazon (Smallville) : Short Story - Chapter 3

It’s one of those slow evenings that Lex is entertaining a certain farm boy.

“You seem to be getting along with Ms. Prince much better. I haven’t heard you complain about her in a while.”

Lex had stopped by the Talon and ran into Clark. So now they're both seated at a table as Clark informs Lex of all his school activities.

“I think we’ve finally found common ground.” Clark informs.

Lex nods.

“So when do you plan to tell her about your crush?”

Clark sputters.

“Who said anything about a crush!”

Lex laughs.

“Because it’s obvious. Any woman that drives you that crazy, well there is usually a reason.”

Clark directs his eyes back at his textbook.

Lana walks over when she spots the pair.

“Lex, Clark.”

Lex lifts his head with a wave and Clark smiles.

“Hey Lana.”

“What can I get you two?”

“The usual.” Clark states, Lex says the same.

“I heard there was a fight here last time, is everything okay?” Lex inquires.

Lana nods.

“Some of the football players can get rowdy. One of them was harassing the waitresses but we actually found someone to help with the problem. I haven’t had an issue since.”

“So you got a body guard.” Lex concludes.

Lana simply laughs.

“Something like that. Oh, there she is now.”

Lana waves excitedly and the female walks over.

When they spot you, Clark looks a bit surprised.

“This is (Y/N).”

Lex’s smile widens.

“Oh, we’re well acquainted. "

You give a little nod.

“Hey Clark, Mr. Luthor.”

Your expression settles to the usual stoic state.

“You’ve all met?”

“Yes. Clark and I worked on a project together and Lex is doing an initiative with Diana.”

Now it all makes sense.

“So you’re freelancing as a security detail.” Lex asks.

“Obnoxious males irritate me.”

Clark just lets out an awkward laugh. You quirk a brow at his strange behavior.

“I have to get back to work. Enjoy your evening.”

You walk away and Lana wears a little smile.

“I can’t really read her. She’s a bit of a mystery. But she’s really sweet and she does a good job.” Lana comments.

Clark is a bit distracted. Seeing your serious face with that apron on is cute.

“Wouldn’t you agree? Clark?”

He blinks, tuning back in. Lex says nothing, just sends Clark a knowing look.

Clark is too much of an open book.

~~

The week seems to be awfully calm.

Your shifts at the Talon are quiet and you know it has to do with the newfound fear that you’ve instilled in the football players. They’ve been on their best behavior since you floored the linebacker who was causing a commotion on your first day there.

What you’ve noticed is that Clark and his friends have been coming in quite regularly. You sort of like the fact that you get to see him so often. Not all your classes crossover. So you only see him on certain days that you share periods together. Outside of school you’re either at the Talon or helping Diana in any way you can.

That evening as you’re getting off, you see Clark moving to the counter.

“Is your shift over?”

You nod.

“Yes, I just need to clock out with Lana. “

“I can give you a ride home.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes.”

So he does.

When he sees you again, you have your bag ready to go. Clark guides you to the door, opening it as you step out.

“My truck is a few blocks down.”

You nod, adjusting your strap as you both head down the street.

It’s nice to have someone around who you don’t need to have a filter around. Clark is also protective by nature as you’ve learned. That must be the reason he’s been hanging around so often.

“You don’t have to keep looking out for me Clark.”

His steps slow just a bit and you don’t miss the little expression that crosses his face. Like he’s been caught. It's sweet that he’s being so thoughtful. Given what you’re capable of, he really has no reason to worry.

“I’ve never said this but I think it’s very noble what you do. You protect your friends and others and take no credit. Diana told me you saved Mr. Luthor in that car accident.”

“Anyone would have done the same.”

You reach for his sleeve and he stops altogether at the tug.

“That’s not true. It seems your selfless nature is tied to your modesty. I suppose my mother was right. Kryptonians are a special kind.”

You offer a smile. Clark knows more than anything that it’s rare. He’s so used to your stoic expressions that when he sees the lighter ones it makes his heart race just a bit quicker.

“I'm glad that we were able to become friends, Clark.”

You were wrong about a lot of things, but you can’t help but feel a bit happy that you were truly wrong about how you viewed him. 

[cutiemochiii]

Angel

My interpretation of how the initial meeting between Douma and Kotoha went.

credit to the artist (wish I knew who it was) for the beautiful fanart

————————————————————————

It was no use. No matter how many times she tried to blink, the pain in her face would not fade, and the fogginess of her vision would not clear. Kotoha could still taste the iron of blood in her mouth from when she bit her husband. She cradled a bundle close to her chest, trying to protect it from the elements. The cold bit at her skin through her delicate kimono, like sharp knives on her body.

She must look like a madwoman, staggering around in the forest, running farther and farther from her village home, in a snowstorm as the sun began to set. Kotoha didn’t care, that was no longer a home to her. She could hear shouts, calls of distress from neighbors still echoing behind her. The same voices that had stayed silent during her husband’s many onslaughts towards her. She let out a frustrated cry, bitterness planting a twisted, ugly seed in her chest.

No, this was not the place for anger, she had to stay focused. In no time, her perpetrators would be on top of her, considering how much slower she was moving due to her injuries.

Kotoha shot out her free arm, waving it around in an attempt to keep herself from running into anything. Her feet were beginning to struggle as the snow piled. The sky was darkening fast, and dread pooled in her stomach. She would freeze to death if she wandered in the dark for much longer.

No, no, no. Keep going. Keep pushing. Don’t stop.

The trees were clearing, and she started to feel less resistance against her legs. She ran with all the strength she could muster, her muscles screaming. The sky and the earth all blended together in a sea of white, and Kotoha cursed her eyesight for failing her. But even in the blurriness, she could make out a large temple ahead of her, black with a blood red roof.

The doors were plated in gold. Even the last strings of dusk pulling at the sky in thin tendrils made them shine blindingly. And at the doors that towered high above all else, stood a person, who was turning away to head back through them. Kotoha had no idea what the temple was, how far she had run.

Would she be offered safety there? Or would she be pushed out like the filthy wretch everyone made her out to be? It didn’t matter. Those doors, they were built high and golden for a reason. Only a select few could enter and earn the security of that glowing monolith.

They opened for the person, and Kotoha imagined the pearly gates of heaven probably looked similar. The figure stepped through, slow and elegant. The blessed gates began to close. No…

“Please.” Her voice was a desperate, frozen rasp. Please let her in. Please let her be chosen. Please do not shut her out. If not for her sake, then for his. Please. She continued, stumbling as her legs numbed from the cold. She tried to beg again, but her voice had left her entirely. She was still too far from the temple to catch their attention.

A small misstep in the snow was enough to cause the woman to collapse. She quickly lifted her bundle, crawling with her free limbs. She had to make it, prove her worth. She was deserving of a haven. She was.

To her relief, the person had stopped. The gates did not close. There wasn’t much distance left. The rocks and sticks on the earth tore her palm and knees.

The air seemed to still completely. Time felt slow. There was a shadow looming over her. Kotoha stopped, her gaze following up the silhouette standing in front of her.

A man —in beige pants and a blood-red shirt— watched her with crossed arms, head quirked in fascination. His glowing blonde hair was only surpassed by his glittering eyes. Even with her lack of sight, the young woman gawked. It was the man from the gates.

“You poor thing.” His voice was silk. A gentle caress of warmth in the blistering cold. Suddenly, Kotoha wasn’t shivering as much as she had been. The man looked up, glancing around in every direction.

“Are you alone?” He asked smoothly, as if she wasn’t groveling at his feet. She wanted to respond. To beg for his mercy, to ask for reprieve from her hell. But she couldn’t. All Kotoha could do was hold back a sob as her eyes welled up.

“Angel.” She choked out, voice merely a soft croak. The man flinched, looking down at her. She hoped her eyes could tell him everything her mouth could not.

“You can talk?” He kneeled down onto a knee, at eye-level with the woman who couldn’t stand. “Oh my, look at your face. You’re so young. Such tender, supple skin should not be so mangled.” He brought his hand to her cheek. His touch was cool, the kind of sensation that a breeze would bring on a hot summer day.

It was all clear. The sky, so vast and dark that even the storm-bearing clouds could not cover it entirely. Kotoha felt like she could see every crystal of snow crunching under her weight. Her vision had returned, and as she blinked, the pain too had vanished.

And there he was, clear as day. His skin —almost the color of the snow around them— brought out his eyes. Rainbow eyes, shifting in color like a glimmering opal with each movement of his head. If his eyes were so mesmerizing in the dimness of a stormy evening, she could only imagine what they would look like in the light of day. She knew her voice had been restored, but she was quieted by her awe. All she could do was stare as he stared back, his eyes seeming wider than before.

He pointed a finger, and Kotoha realized how long his fingernails were. “Whatcha got there?” He questioned. He was looking at the white cloth in her arm. Suddenly Kotoha stumbled back, hugging it tighter to her chest. The man stood.

“It’s your child.” He stated matter of factly. He glanced around one last time, before approaching her again and extending his hand. “Come. Let’s get you somewhere warm.” She hesitated, before taking it and slowly letting him help her stand.

Kotoha had done it, she was worthy. “Rainbow angel.” She finally mustered the strength to speak. She looked up at him. Her mouth started to curve upwards, in a smile so true it almost felt as if she had never smiled before. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

Author’s Note: I really hope you guys liked this! There will be a part 2! We’re not quite done with this first meeting juuuust yet! This is my first real writing post here, I can’t wait to do more.

Here’s Part 2! Part 3!

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - one

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: mob!Bucky is most definitely not a good person this time around, cursing, mentions of gangs/crime & their activities, death, violence, weapons/guns

word count: 2.5k

a/n: I read your white wolf by @witchywithwhiskey a while ago and that version of Bucky has stuck in my head ever since. This Bucky is 110% inspired by him so go read it after reading this one.

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

series masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is for anyone to see themselves in her.

Six years earlier 

“Does someone want to tell me who poisoned my whiskey?”

The question hangs in the air as the dinner guests stare at each other, waiting for someone to come forward but no one does. The Rumlow Triplets roll their eyes at their father’s obvious display for dominance while Mrs. Rumlow nervously shifts in her chair. Her daughter looks her up and down in confusion but her father’s voice drags her attention away. “Who was stupid enough to try and poison me?” he demands, slamming his hand on the table and causing the cutlery next to him to jump in fear.

“Was it you?” he points to the eldest triplet, Victoria and when she shakes her head, he directs the question to the second, Niklaus. He finally settles on the youngest, Y/N, “surely it wasn’t you?”

Y/N glances at her mother, a mistake Brock catches too quickly and he motions for his men who were standing next to him to flock Mrs. Rumlow. 

“Or was it my dear wife?” he mocks her as his men crowd her in her chair, “Hm? Was it you Jasmine? Did you try to kill me, your loving husband?”

Jasmine clears her throat and straightens her back before meeting his murderous gaze and answering, “Yes.”

Brock lets out an obnoxious laugh and sits back into his chair. The sound rings out and causes everyone to shutter. That laugh means one thing and one thing only; shit is about to go down. 

And it does. 

He takes the poisoned glass into his hand, turns it as he inspects it and then throws it as hard as he can at Jasmine. She ducks in time for it to shatter against her chair instead of her face. Angry that she dodged him, Brock grabs any and all items that would hurt her and throws him like a crazed man at her. His men grab her by the shoulders to stop her from getting up or otherwise protecting herself. Each new weapon lands around and on her much to the horror of her daughter while the other two sink into their chairs, hoping to find from their father’s rage. 

“After everything that I’ve done for you? This is how you repay me? By poisoning me? You fucking bitch!” he screams when there is nothing left in his reach to throw. Instead of stopping, the man jumps onto the table and marches his way to stand in front of Jasmine, crushing everything in his path. 

Niklaus and Victoria make eye contact before he gestures to Y/N as a silent way to say “we need to get her out. Now.” Victoria nods and silently slips out of her chair as Niklaus does the same. In the meantime, Brock is screaming more and more vulgar things at Jasmine and spares no hurtful detail as he does what he can to mentally beat her down. The siblings grab Y/N and put a finger to their lips, telling her to be quiet as they sneak out of the room. 

“What about my mom?” Y/N whispers to Niklaus who pulls her into his side as Victoria closes the dining room door. 

A gunshot rings out and answers her question for him. Her eyes widen in shock and she tries to turn, fighting against them as she does so. Niklaus scoops her onto his shoulder and takes off running towards the front door as Victoria pulls her gun from her thigh, running behind them. 

“Go, go, go!” she yells at Niklaus when they hear Brock’s monstrous yell rip through the hall after them. More shots ring out and the triplets drop for a moment before picking up their pace again. Y/N cries against her brother’s back but doesn’t fight anymore. 

There’s no point. 

Brock won. 

Feeling that she’s stopped failing, Nikalus drops her to her feet and grabs her hand to drag her along. Without missing a step, Y/N keeps up with the other two Rumlow children and kicks off her shoes in the process. Victoria fires back behind her as they stop at the front door. Niklaus shoves it open and ushers the two girls out, leaving the door wide open as he sprints after them. 

“Walker! Close the gates!” Brock shouts and fires towards his children who are running for their lives towards the security car kept out front. 

Victoria returns fire while her brother practically throws Y/N into the passenger’s seat. To her left sits a familiar brunette. 

Maria Hill. 

Victoria’s aunt. 

Maria revs the engine and Niklaus slams the door shut much to his sister's dismay. 

“What are you doing? Get in! He’s going to kill you!” she shouts at him but he just smiles at her and nods to Maria. Victoria takes her brother’s hand and together they wish their sister goodbye before turning their attention to their father at the top of the stairs. Even though she can’t quite see his face, she knows that he is full of rage and is ready to murder anyone he sees fit. 

Maria peels out of the driveway, leaving a trail of dust and rocks in her wake as she speeds Y/N to safety. The 17 year old stares at the rearview mirror as she abandons her family behind. She tears her gaze away when she sees Brock march down the stairs, gunshot in hand and pointed at Niklaus and Victoria. 

Maria grabs her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. 

“They’ll be okay. He won’t kill them. They’re too valuable,” she tells Y/N however it does nothing to ease her nerves. 

“Yeah but he can make them wish they were dead,” Y/N says with her eyes staring straight forward. 

Brock will make them wish they were dead, give them a break so they think they’re safe and then he’ll do it all over again.

She can only hope that Niklaus and Victoria are strong enough to hold on until she can figure out how to get them out. 

Present 

Six years can change a lot. 

The entire US Senate potentially turns over in that time. 

Jupiter goes from one side of the sun to the other. 

A person can mature from a teenager to an adult. 

Y/N Rumlow shed her skin as the Rumlow Snake and became Y/N Juárez to hide any connection to her family. Actually she became Jasmine Juárez for a short period of time but it hurt too much to hear her mom’s name so she went back to Y/N. Maria thought it was stupid to keep her real first name but Y/N refused to change it to anything else. Stubborn 17 year olds will do that; refuse to do something just because they were asked to. It took Maria nearly two years to get her to trust her even though they’d known each other for years. But that’s what happens when Brock is in the picture; he takes a person and breaks them over and over again until they become his perfect playthings. He’d done that to Victoria’s mom, LeeAnn, and Niklaus’ mom, Elena, before he’d done it to Jasmine. It was his favorite hobby and something he loved to do to his children, the Triplets as they were lovingly called for being only a year apart each. 

Regardless, Y/N is now 23 and has been safely hidden from her father for six years in Arizona. Her last name allowed her to blend in enough that if he did try to find her, he would have a hell of a time searching through thousands of Y/N Juárezs. Not to mention that he hated leaving his fortress in the lower east side so the chances of him showing up in Phoenix were slim to none or they had been until recently. 

Her apartment always feels neutral and calm when she walks in after work. She always makes sure to turn all of the lights off, set the alarms, and put the essential oil diffuser on a timer so that when she walks through the door, she would be surrounded by peace and lavender. Today, though, something cuts through that carefully planned serenity. 

It’s sharp and metallic with a hint of cleaning chemicals. 

Y/N pauses at her door as she takes a deeper whiff; the air smells of copper. Metal that slides together time and time again. Her body goes still for a moment when she smells the signature smell of gun smoke. 

Reaching into her purse, she produces the small protection gun Maria bought her when she first escaped. The training takes over and she holds it in front of her like a good little soldier as she scans the room before entering. She does full scans with her eyes and gun as she walks further into her apartment in search of the reason behind the smell. 

A light is on in her bedroom. 

She creeps towards the door. Seeing that it’s cracked open, she presses her body against the wall next to it and slowly peeks her head in to quickly scan for anyone, anything.

Sitting on the edge of her bed is Victoria and standing against a window that overlooks the road is Niklaus, both casually lounging as if they owned the place. Y/N nudges the door open with her gun and allows gravity to let it swing as she stands still in the frame, gun pointed at her sister. 

Victoria is the first to look and a wide grin breaks across her face when she sees her long lost sister. 

“Y/N!” she shrieks and Niklaus scolds her with his eyes before sharing the same bright grin.  

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks, ignoring their joy. 

“We wanted to see you,” Victoria lies poorly. 

Niklaus rolls his eyes before correcting her, “He needs you. Well not you but the Snake, he needs the Snake.”

“No.”

“We have strict orders.”

“I don’t care. Get out.”

“Come on. Don’t be like that,” Victoria butts in. 

“I don’t care. Get out,” Y/N repeats, cocking the hammer of her revolver to emphasize her point. 

“Your neighbors will call the cops if you shoot me.” 

“It’s Phoenix. There’s always gunshots going on.”

Niklaus chuckles and pushes off the wall, taking in the room around him. It’s bare, minimalist to the core with nothing to show that a human with close relationships lives there. He finds one picture in a white clay frame on the nightstand and in it is Maria with Y/N and a dog. 

“See you got in a few good years before she died?”

Y/N’s nose flairs at the obvious jab, “I’ll give you a five second head start.”

“Oh so generous,” he mocks and rolls his eyes again before turning serious, “The White Wolf is after us. Brock needs you to take him out before he can get to us.”

“Not my problem. You have three seconds now.”

Victoria, growing impatient and not wanting to be shot, speaks up, “He’s how we found you.”

Y/N looks at her with confusion before she clarifies that the White Wolf had sent their father a letter with her address and surveillance pictures. 

“That’s not possible.”

Victoria pulls out one of the pictures from her jacket pocket and tosses it on the bed. 

“Clearly it is.”

Y/N snatches up the picture and it does show her in this very room getting ready for bed. She turns the picture over and writes on the back is “ONE MISTAKE AND SHE’S DEAD.”

Tossing the picture back, she re-trains her gun on Victoria and says, “Brock wants me dead anyways so why would he care what happens to me?”

“Like I said, he needs the Snake. He’s made it very clear that he could care less about you, Y/N, but he needs the weapon that he made you into if he wants any chance at surviving this.”

“What do I get out of it?”

“Freedom.” 

“I had that.”

“No you didn’t,” Niklaus says, “You thought you did but with the White Wolf dead, you could actually have it and not have to worry about anyone coming after you.”

Y/N snorts in disbelief, “it’ll never be over.” 

Victoria pipes up again, “Kill Brock too then.” Niklaus and Y/N look at her like she’s lost her mind. 

“What? We’ve all thought about it but she’s the only one who would be able to do it,” she shrugs off their disapproving looks. 

Y/N thinks it over for a moment before lowering her gun and moving towards her closet. It’s Victoria’s turn to exchange confused looks with Niklaus while the other triplet packs her stuff into a backpack. She emerges from the closet to toss the backpack on the bed and sits on the edge to lace up her boots. 

Sensing that she has eyes burning holes into her back, she straightens up and answers their question, “I’ll do it but I’m killing Brock too and you can either help me or stay out of my way.”

The White Wolf sits in a chair, swirling his bourbon around as the ice ball hits the inside of the crystal glass. He watches the flames lick up the walls of the home and revels in the way that the ashes fall on the grass around him. The flames reach higher and higher until they devour the second story of the house. The inhabitants, rats in his own family, scream and bang against the windows as the fire reaches the room they are locked in. 

He wiggles his fingers at them as a sadistic wave and tosses his head back to swallow the rest of the bourbon. Throwing the glass at the fire, the White Wolf stands and motions for his men to follow him to their cars. His right hand man, Sam Wilson, whispers something into his ear and he smiles that wolfish grin. 

“They’re enroute,” Sam confirms when they climb into the car. 

The White Wolf nods, “Looks like I’ll get to meet Rumlow’s famed Snake after all. How long until they’re here.”

“Five, six hours max.”

“Send Steve to his house in five hours then. Have him wait there until he gets eyes on the Triplets. I need visual confirmation that they are all in the city.”

Sam nods and calls Steve to relay the message. The car pulls out of the driveway as the house becomes completely engulfed in flames. 

“Oh and tell the fire department to wait until tonight to respond,” he adds and Sam nods once again. 

The White Wolf settles back into his seat, closing his eyes as he allows the comfort of the leather seats to surround him. Relaxation is rare for him but he takes it when he can get it and with Brock acting a fool lately, it’s seeming like those moments are going to become increasingly more rare. 

Until relaxation can return to his everyday life, he’ll settle for choosing chaos everywhere he goes.  

It’s what he does best. 

[imnotherelolllll]

Travis

MAGGOTNIZER OC CANNONS. GO FOLLOW HIM ON TWIT OR YOU'LL BE ALONE FOR THE NEXT 20 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE. ALL CREDIT FOR THE CHARACTER GOES TO HIM.

You are the only human mercenary in Edgar's group. There was blaz, Daud, Donovan, Edgar, and Travis.

Travis is a gray and black husky mix with black/pale blue eyes. He has a good toned build, he's not a total lost cause like Donovan. He has more a bit more feelings and emotion than the other mercs.

He never really wanted this life, he used to work for state security, but couldn't anymore as he got jailed at 28, his current age is 34. It is highly likely that he became a mercenary with Donovan at the time, considering they knew each other...and there's one more thing.

Ever since you have joined Edgar's group, you immediately took a liking to Travis. The only thing stopping you from telling or approaching Travis is Donovan, or that's what you thought.

There was one night where Donovan bit Travis out on a contract, I don't know why (ask maggit man) So he had a white bloody patch on his black furry neck. You were walking outside, going into the base...and you decided to help yourself to a peek through a hole that shows the glass window that was boarded up....hiding Travis's room from the outside. You peeked inside the little hole....that's when you fucking saw it. The thing that destroyed all of your confidence or to even ask or talk to Travis again. I'll describe what you saw...detail by detail.

You saw Donovan and Travis...shirtless. Their well built fierce canine bodies being shown off....Don was gripping one of Travis's furry wrists...and Travis gripping Donovan's furry shoulder. Donovan was necking up Travis's left side....the side he hadn't bit earlier. Travis was watching him...bearing a sharp canine grin....cigarette lit in between his sharp white canines. He looked so content...happy...at ease...and you were mad it wasn't you making him feel that way.

Tears started to run down your face as you ran back to your room in the base/abandoned building the mercenaries were using. Edgar didn't do anything...Daud on the other hand...went to check on you...to see if you were dying or bleeding. All he got was the sight of you bawling your e/c eyes out...

You started to tell Daud what happened...and how you felt. He promised he wouldn't tell anyone...with a remark... "I thought life in the cage fights were hard...Jesus." You took of your shirt...remaining in just black sweats....and you hopped in your bed. You heard knocking a minute later.

How Travis Feels lol

I only felt that Donovan was kissing my ass once again...I just lit my cigarette and put on a smile...so he wouldn't go crazy then and there. While Donovan was in the middle of whatever he was doing....I heard a whimper...and human footsteps from outside....probably y/n...he usually gets done with his contract kills at this hour. After Donovan left....something hit me...

Had y/n...been watching us....he has been looking at me a lot lately...but it seems he doesn't want to talk or go near me when Donovan's in the picture. On contracts too...I scratched my black and gray husky mix head...and decided to confront y/n. It couldn't hurt to ask...maybe it could...

I immediately exit my room...not giving a shit that I'm apparently shirtless. As luck would have it...I ran into Donovan on the way to his room...and he forced opened my muzzle in just looked at my teeth for no fucking reason while I had my Captain Morgan soda in hand.

"Fuck off."

He left me alone. I spoke to Daud...confirming my suspicions. Now all that's left Is to confront y/n...I knocked on his door.

"Open the door. It's Travis. Want to talk?"

The door became unlocked after I spoke. I saw him lying on his bed...back turned to me...his build wasn't as decent as mine...but he was still a skilled mercenary. I sat on the edge of his bed.

"Want to talk?" I repeated...

"About what?"

"The thing you saw...and told Daud about."

"D-Depends are you w-willing to listen?"

"Sure, I don't mind...spill your guts."

He started to tell the story...about Donovan necking me up...now I wanted to explain that it wasn't really love...or anything like that...but that's too complicated. There was something...and I ending doing...that so much easier thing...I cut him off...pressing my furry gray husky mix muzzle against his smooth human lips.

It didn't even take him another second for him to grant my tongue access to his mouth....we started to kiss a little bit...intensely...if I do say so myself. I ran my black and gray paws along his smooth human skin....he started to unhook my utility belt...and I un-tightened his sweatpants. Our pants fell to the floor...revealing our matching black boxer briefs....

Y/n was quite...embarrassed....

"o-oh...."

"Great minds think alike...don't they?" I responded smugly.

"Let's get in bed."

I hopped in his bed....pulling his human body...a little bit skinny...he needs to eat more...I pulled him closer to my warm furry body....and started to nuzzle his neck...and have conversation with him.

"I love you damnit..."

"That so? I love you so much more."

"sureeee...."

"I mean...i'm damn sureeee I love you more...."

Then Edgar had to walk in....

y/n and I: "OUTTTT!"

credit @maggotnizer on twit

stats/notes

cannon notes first

Has most feeling in Edgar's group. (I THINK.)

close range weapons

age = 34

gray and black husky mix, pale blue eyes.

homosexual

current partner is Donovan but not necessarily romantic ones.

Theme: Sleeping beauty - a perfect circle.

always tired boi

my own non cannon notes I like to think...

my theme for Travis would be Lost - Linkin Park.

okay cant think of anything else he's literally perfect.