#picking a single topic and running it into the ground until someone vaguely mentions something else. rinse and repeat

[un-pearable]

extremely funny that as the snapcube fandub team’s sense of humor and comedic timing has matured (and their influence has grown) the comedy of the fandubs has converged with the average sonic boom episode

[smarchit]

Look Around, Look Around pt 7

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 4k (apparently)

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse, blood/gore, violence, labor, childbirth, ask to tag for anything else!

Notes: This is definitely the longest part of this story so far. When I first published this on Ao3, it was originally titled “The Mother.” Enjoy!

Your water had broken. It ran down your legs and created a dark spot on the floor below your feet. The wet mark bloomed across the floor and fear rose in your throat. Kriff.

Two weeks early. Two whole kriffing weeks early. Almost three! You remembered what the doctor on Nevarro had said about potential birth complications and tried not to think about it too much as you tried to prepare the little home as much as you could in the short amount of time you knew you had.

You had been walking around the largest room in the house for a few hours since then, trying to stop the unbearable pain in your back. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You let out a sharp cry and clung to a support beam so you wouldn't drop to your knees in fucking agony as another contraction hit. They were still far enough apart that you still had a bit of time, but you knew that this baby was coming. Today. With or without the Mandalorian there to assist. He kriffing promised.

The sun finally came up and still no sign of the Mandalorian. You were beyond worried - both for him, and at the very real possibility that you had to do this by yourself. In the middle of a desert.

You had decided that sitting in the nest of soft blankets and bedding would be the best option for you right now. Gods, what you wouldn't give for Mando's strong hands to grip onto right now.

Between the contractions and over the beeping from the timer you had rigged, you heard voices outside. Your heart jumped, thinking the Mandalorian had finally returned, maybe with help. It didn't sound like Mando, though. Neighbors, perhaps? Though you hadn't seen any other houses when you arrived. Fear began to bubble in your throat.

"There's his ship," a voice growled from outside. It sounded vaguely familiar, though you couldn't place it.

"Think he's in here?" asked a second voice.

"Nah," replied the first. "He would be waiting for us if he were. His girl's here though."

"How do you know?"

"I heard her crying."

You gasped, both in fear and in pain and carefully got to your knees. If you moved quick enough, you could make it to the ship and lock the door, like Mando had told you to do.

No luck.

You had almost made it to the back door when it slammed open. There was a scrawny man with sandy hair standing there, a dagger in his hand. He smiled at you and as you tried to scramble away backwards, he reached down and grabbed you by the hair.

"Oh, he's gonna love to see you," he chuckled.

You screamed and brought your foot down onto the arch of his boot. Hard. He let out a scream of pain. As he dropped you, you ran to the table and grabbed the blaster Mando had left you.

One shot to his head and he crumbled to the ground. You had an uneasy feeling that his partner wouldn't be felled so quickly.

Adrenaline coursed through you as you staggered to the back door again. All you needed to do was get to the ship...

"There you are," the first voice hissed. It was deep and grating and chilled you to your core.

Your eyes went wide with sheer terror as you recognized the man that filled the doorway that you currently were trying to make your escape through. Dern. The Devaronian innkeeper.

"Where is the Mandalorian?" he shouted, crossing the room to you in two massive steps. You backed up, trying to keep as much distance between you and him as you could.

"I don't know!" you shouted, crying out as a contraction hit. As you gripped your stomach and doubled over, you took a few breaths and tried to stay calm.

"Oho, now what is this?" he roared with laughter. "What's the matter, little girl? Do you need some assistance?"

"Get away!" you cried as he came closer to him. "I'll -- I'll shoot! I'll -- Ah, kriff!"

He just kept laughing despite your gasps and huffs of pain. Dern gripped your arm as you tried to keep it steady to shoot. He crushed your wrist and yanked the blaster from your hand.

"Please, please no!" you shouted as he drew you closer.

"Tell me where Mando is and I won't shoot," he said, aiming the blaster at your head.

"I don't know!" you sobbed. He still had a grip on your wrist and you could feel the bones creak as they threatened to shatter in his grasp.

Dern scowled and then in an instant, he had the blaster pressed against your belly, one finger resting on the trigger. When you let out a scream of horror, he gave a cruel chuckle.

"Tell. Me. Where. He. Is." Each word was punctuated with a jab to your belly with the blaster barrel.

You groaned and screwed up your face as the wave of contractions continued. Closer. Not long now. 

"Please," you begged. "Let me go. I don't know where he is! He left two days ago! Please, I'm telling you the truth."

Dern scoffed and let you drop to the ground. He shook his head as you scrambled backwards, trying to get yourself to the small nest of blankets you had left on the floor. The palms of your hands were cut up with dust and gravel.

Your thigh brushed something buried in between the pillows and blankets and when you glanced down, there was a little glint in the low light. The knife. There was a chance after all. But you had to think fast. You only got one chance to hit, otherwise you and your baby were both dead.

The Devaronian took a seat close by you and kept the gun trained on you. He leaned forward so he could get a better look as you braced yourself against the wall as a powerful contraction hit. My moon, I will not let him take you from me.

Dern kept the gun on you for the better part of the early morning, waiting for you to talk. He drank the last of your water from the skin, leaving you parched and sweating as the sun beat down on the house.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Dern," you gasped, hand clutching your belly. You pulled your shirt from the waistband of your skirt, exposing stretched flesh to the dry air. "I... I need help. Please help me. This baby is coming."

Gods, you hoped that Devaronians weren't known for their obstetrical prowess. It was the worst lie you ever thought of.

He laughed as he stalked over to you, stuffing the blaster in his pocket. One giant fist tangled in your hair and yanked you to your knees. "You finally decided you need my help, huh?"

You gritted your teeth as he leaned down to get closer, pulling you up to meet his face. He smelled like blaster smoke and oil. And something beneath that. Something that caused a deep rage to boil inside you, something that caused your maternal instinct to go into hyperdrive as you gripped the hilt of the knife Mando had left for you. Sour Bantha milk.

"Think I'll keep you," he said with a chuckle, "Wonder how soon I can put another baby back in you? You look so good like this. Wonder how good you'd look with a Devaronian inside of you." Dern trailed his fingers down your neck and cupped his hand over one of your breasts, travelling lower until it reached your exposed belly. He dug his nails into your skin.

You screamed and drove the blade of the knife into the side of his neck as hard as you could. When you jerked it forward, he gave a roar of pain as his blood sprayed over you. 

He tried to reach up to grab your arm to subdue you, to try and make you drop the knife. Dern swore and tried to snap your wrist as you brought the blade down again and again with your other hand.

When he fell, you gave another scream and shoved him away. As he landed in a heap on the floor, you drove the knife into his temple. His blood soaked through your clothes, the blankets, the dirt floor of the house turning the sand red and wet as he bled out. It was on your face. You could feel it. You tried to wipe all the blood off your hands on a nearby blanket. Shaking. Your vision blurred. You just killed someone. Two someones. There's so much blood.

"Maker," you gasped.

You had to get out of here as soon as you could. As quickly as possible, you staggered to your feet, biting your lip bloody through the pain. You had to get to the ship. Send an emergency signal to someone. Anyone. Maybe someone would pick up on it and rescue you. Maker, you would even take your chances with the remnants of the kriffing Empire right now.

Something must have happened to the Mandalorian to keep him away like this, especially when he promised you he would be back. You shuddered to think.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as you walked, no, waddled through the blood on the floor and out towards the ship. As you entered the hold, you realized you would have to go up to the cockpit to send a message. You tried to climb the ladder, but you didn't get past the first rung before you dropped to the floor. You hissed at the pain in your knees.

Blood pounded in your ears as you crawled back the hallway towards the bedroom you had slept in for the past few months. You were running on pure instinct and adrenaline right now.

Like a scared animal. 

As you tried to pull yourself onto the bed, you heard loud footsteps clanging up the ramp. Someone called your name. They sounded frantic as they searched for you.

"Mando?" you called, your voice hoarse as you tried to get his attention.

He must've heard you. His footsteps grew louder and closer as he neared, and you turned your head as best you could to see him there in the doorway, shiny beskar armor catching the light and looking every single bit like a kriffing hero. 

You tried to turn around to face him, but the worst of the contractions finally hit. In an attempt to alleviate some of the pain, you sat against the wall of the bedroom, unable to make it onto the cot.

Mando was already at your side on his knees. He yanked his gauntlets off and threw them off to the side. You heard them land somewhere with a clang. His gloves came next. Here in the low light of the ship's interior, you couldn't get a good look at hands, but they were warm and solid when they pulled you against him.

"Gonna need to take this off," he said quickly. He helped you lift your hips and gently pulled off your skirt and underclothes, ruined and soiled with fluid and blood.

"Where-- where were you?!" you cried as your body finally gave you the signal to start to push. Talk about close calls, Mando.

"Tell you later, okay?" he replied, looping your arm through his. "Focus on this - brace yourself on me. You need to push."

You pressed your whole weight against him as you focused all your strength into pushing downwards.

Mando gripped your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you needed to get through this. He held one of your thighs open with his elbow resting against your knee while you kept your free hand on your other knee. Blood streaked along your inner thighs and Mando set your balled-up skirt on the floor beneath you to try and catch some of the fluid. 

You threw your head back and fucking howled. The sound was absolutely primal and it rang in your ears as you bore down. It echoed through the ship and reverberated back to you.

You really didn't even hear Mando's strong words of encouragement as he tried his best to talk you through it. You weren't sure, but you may have told him to shut the fuck up at one point.

It seemed like it was never going to end. The pain tore through you like fire.

A sharp cry that was not your own flooded your ears. A rush of endorphins came over you as your child finally made their entrance into the galaxy.

"You did it!" Mando cried. He sounded like he was laughing with relief. "Me'suum, you did it!"

Hands shaking from exertion, you let go of Mando to help the screaming baby out of you.

"Oh, my moon," you whispered as your eyes filled with tears. "My little moon."

You gently lifted them and held them against your chest, wanting nothing more than to have this baby now be as close to you as physically possible. You shushed the baby gently, your own cheeks now wet as well.

"You did it," he murmured. He pushed sweaty hair from your forehead and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting you lean against him. His cool helmet rested on your temple as he looked down at the still restless newborn baby in your arms. "It's a girl, me'suum."

"I did... Did it." you breathed, resting your hand on the baby's back. You were suddenly exhausted and you sagged against him heavily. Your words slurred together slightly. "'s a girl, Mando. A lil' girl?"

"Hey," he murmured, jostling you a bit in an attempt to rouse you. He sat up a bit straighter. "Hey. I need to get you cleaned up, okay? We gotta get you clean."

You nodded and let your eyes flutter shut. You were so tired...

"Maker. Me'suum," he said, trying to get your attention. His tone was urgent. "I will be right back. The medpak is in the fresher. Don't fall asleep. You lost -- Maker, there's a lot of blood."

Mando stood and exited the room, being sure to side-step the blood. He grabbed the medpak and an extra shot of bacta before he returned to you. He knelt back down in front of you, administered the shot and sighed in relief when the color returned to your cheeks after a moment.

You felt better instantly. No pain, no fatigue. Only slightly weak, but you had expected that from the beginning.

"Mando," you whispered as he took his place at your side once more. You looked up at him through heavy, sleepy eyes. When he responded with a grunt, you looked down at the baby, now finally calmed and gurgling slightly, and stroked your finger over her faint hairline. "I need you to cut her cord for me... Please?"

He sucked in a breath. The sound crackled through the modulator and he stood, frozen in place.

"Hey," you said, lifting your head. He looked so distant, even though you couldn't see his face. "Can you do that? Please?"

Mando shook whatever he was thinking about from his head and turned his attention back to you and the baby.

"Right, yeah," he murmured. He pulled out a pair of wound care scissors from the medpak and carefully cut your baby's cord. He tied it off with a strip of gauze from the kit.

While Mando did his best to clean you up, you used a clean edge of your shirt to gently clean your baby's face, noting that she blessedly had most of your features. 

Mando disappeared for a moment, returning with an armful of blankets and cushions from the house. Many of the cleaner ones were from the festival that now seemed like a lifetime ago.

After sitting there with you for a while, he helped you into the bed and made sure you were as comfortable as possible.

 He wrapped your daughter in one of his old scarves and returned her to your arms. You slid your arms out of your shirt and pressed her to you, hoping that the contact would soothe her.

"Gonna... Go check on the kid," he said softly. "You gonna be okay?"

"You gonna bring him down?"

"In a bit... Give him a little talking to," he murmured. "A heads up. I don't think he knows what's going on."

You gingerly moved your baby to the other arm and held your hand out to him. "He might be asleep."

Mando looked up at the ceiling as if listening for any sort of disturbance upstairs.

He stood by your side and laced his fingers through yours. His hands were still bared to you and you noted his skin was a beautiful golden copper.

"Why didn't you come?" you whispered, looking up at him. "You said you'd be back by morning."

"Remember how I said it looked like Jawas scavved the parts of the tanks?"

You nodded. 

"So I headed towards a settlement I saw on the way in, hoping someone would have a bit of sympathy if I explained the situation," he murmured. He sighed deeply and shook his head. "It ended up as an ambush. Some people I used to work with."

You looked up at him and he gave your hand a squeeze.

"They wanted you," he continued. "Said they were gonna take you to your husband for the money. I had to fight them off - they wounded me and ran. Another moisture farmer took me in. Lent me her speeder so I could get back here."

"You almost didn't make it," you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the baby's forehead.

"When I saw those bodies in there... I didn't know what to think," he said softly, "I thought that you were... I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry about your friend," you said, though you were beginning to think that their relationship was purely one-sided at the beginning, foggy in the middle and hatred on both sides at the end.

He gave a half hearted shrug and ran a calloused thumb over your knuckles.

You wanted to say something so bad. But what words could you say? Thank you wasn't enough and I think I love you felt like it was both too much and not enough. Both were true. You had never felt so grateful for another person in your whole life. 

A banging noise from upstairs startled you both. You jumped enough to wake your daughter who had fallen asleep, her little head nestled against your breast as she began to cry. You lightly rocked and shushed her as Mando went to investigate.

He returned not a minute later with his own child under his arm. The baby looked incredibly pleased with himself and the way Mando's shoulders sagged made it look like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders by holding his adopted child.

You couldn't help but laugh tiredly at the picture the four of you must make. It filled your heart with an emotion you hadn't felt in so long. Joy.

The child babbled excitedly in Mando's arms when he saw the bundle against your bare chest.

You nodded and gently lowered your arms down when Mando set him in your lap. When you pulled the makeshift swaddle down to expose her face, the child cooed and blinked at her. He peered over the edge of her blanket and cocked his head to one side.

"See?" you murmured, rubbing your fingers over one of his oversized ears. "Gentle." You pressed a kiss to your daughter's forehead and then leaned forward to kiss the child on his.

Mando made a soft noise and you looked up at him. He was leaning against the wall, watching the three of you. You wished you could see his face. To know what he was thinking right now would complete you.

***

The next day, Mando set a course for Sorgan. He sent a message to Greef Karga, advising him he was taking a short leave of absence from the Guild.

He let you sleep for as long as you needed to. He figured you had been through enough and deserved to rest.

You woke suddenly and immediately panicked when the small bundle beside you was empty.

"Mando?" you cried, jumping from the cot. You threw on a robe, ignoring the pain screaming between your legs as you tore open the bedroom door.

There was the sound of water running from the fresher and you gently knocked on the door.

"Mando?" you repeated, not caring that you sounded frantic.

The water shut off and the door slowly opened with a hiss.

The Mandalorian stood before you in just his thick canvas pants, a high-collar shirt, and his helmet. Your daughter was nestled in his arms in a clean blanket, clean, dry, and sleeping soundly.

The child cooed at you from the small sink in the fresher. He too, was clean, but had not yet been dried, though he didn't seem to mind.

"You should still be asleep," Mando said softly as he let you take your daughter in your arms. "You just did an amazing thing."

"I need to feed her," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her nose. 

Before you turned to head to the cockpit, you looked up at him. 

"You bathed her?" you asked, feeling the telltale sign of tears in your eyes.

"She still had blood on her," he murmured. "She slept the whole time."

You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He looked down where your hand fit against his. You stood on your tip toes and pressed your forehead to his.

Before he could respond, you pulled away and ascended to the cockpit to feed your baby.

***

As you approached the lush planet of Sorgan, you watched both children as they slept. The child was in his pod, your daughter in Mando's arms. He was so gentle with her. You had watched those hands snap necks without a second thought, and yet you trusted them completely to hold something so fragile and new.

"Did you name her?" he asked softly.

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

"You have to think of one," he said as he looked up from her face. "I mean, you can't really call her your moon for the rest of her life."

"What do you call the child, then?" 

Mando was silent for a moment.

"Thought so," you teased. "Besides, what was it you called her earlier? When I was feeding her?"

He gave a huff of soft laughter. "Me'suum'ika?"

"And what does that mean?" you asked. "I assume it's Mandalorian, but what does it mean?"

"Moon," he said quietly as he touched her nose.

"Then that means..." You gasped as you came to the realization. "Mando! Have you been calling me a planet for the last three months?!"

Mando laughed loud enough to wake both babies as you felt the ship begin deceleration to Sorgan.

"What did you think it meant?" he wheezed as he turned his chair around to land on a patch of flat ground.

"I'm not sure," you said softly. "My darling? Maybe that?"

He was silent as the he pressed a button to power down. He patted your daughter on the bottom to lull her back to sleep as he stood to face you.

"Cyar'ika," he replied, his gloved hand cupping your cheek.

This time, it was he who left before you could respond. 

You turned to look out the front window of the Razor Crest. Already, you could see the villagers coming towards the ship, led by Winta, who seemed much taller now than she had six months ago when you first met her.

As you joined Mando outside, you spotted Cara Dune, gun slung over her shoulder walking beside Omera at the rear of the crowd.

Mando put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you a bit closer as everyone came to get a look at the star system's newest moon.

***

TAGLIST (Let me know if you’d like to be added!):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @poeticparker @blackbird337 @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell @qhbr2013 @bookszazzy @marvelbros-oneshots @cuteboyking @boomtownboy @connor-challoner @fandom-lover-4 @itsmysticalmystery @love-struck-aries @lifeisapitch15 @cosmicwhisper @hybrid-huntress

[summonerscenarios]

[1] OKAY anon talking about Mc running off before they find out they're innocent. Okay Mc just wanted to cool down so they skip class and leave campus for the day for self care. BUT THEN they get caught up in app conflict bs like they do when game events happen bc its mc. Maybe helping out the outlaws or somethin- Mc sends the summoner group chat the fyi, that they'll be back. But three days later and the teachers are fucking panicking bc of the situation and they don't know shit AND now the-

OKAY ONCE AGAIN I’M GOING A LIL OFF ON THIS BECAUSE THIS IDEA IS JUST 👌👌👌👌👌 so as you can probably tell in some parts I definitely rambled lmao. I do hope I do it justice~!

And for anyone wondering the original request can be found here!

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

Things had gotten too much. You were so fed up with all the stares, all the sympathetic glances burning holes into the back of your head and all of the whispered words of gossip and speculation like you were some hot topic or reckless wild child who couldn’t be trusted. Everyone was acting like you couldn’t see or hear them, which somehow just made it feel even worse; it was driving you up the wall, even with all of your friends standing by your side the moment you were accused it was hard to ignore everything that came with it. You were pissed, hurt, but the betrayal stung the worst out of everything that had happened so far - you’d put your complete trust in your teachers, looking up to them oh so confident that they’d believe and protect you should the need ever arise, because you genuinely believed that they saw the best in you, even in spite of your faults and encounter track record. You guess that just wasn’t the case though, as that encounter in the staff room still makes you feel sick to your stomach, thinking about the way those same teachers you trusted looked at you with pity and still deemed you guilty of something you so viciously denied. 

They still look at you with pity - Mr. Triton and Mr. Jinn don’t even try to hide it, maybe not even realizing that you’re looking at their expressions when they’d tried to start up a conversation with you. It frustrates you, because it feels like they have no right to pity you when they were the ones there in that meeting and they didn’t try to vouch for you. They didn’t even listen when you told them you were innocent! Surely they have enough faith in you to believe in you, right?!...right? Whatever the case the whole situation has you dreading coming into school everyday, and as the days pass you’re more and more convinced that things would be better if you could just get out of going at all - there’s plenty of other things you could be doing where you wouldn’t have eyes watching your every move, nor the weight that comes with them.

You don’t know if it’s luck or sheer irony that the teacher responsible for picking you up from class is late one day, but it’s the final nail in the coffin before you decide ‘fuck it, I’m out of here’ and skip class. For the past few days you’d felt pinned, suffocated with eyes constantly on you from the moment you step onto school grounds to the moment you’re out of sight, which makes it oddly freeing to be able to run around without those disapproving gazes - but you don’t want to waste time and risk getting caught, not when you’re so close to skipping and being free for at least a single day. Consequences be damned, you don’t care anymore. Even though everything is still weighing heavy on your mind stepping out of the grounds feels...liberating, and you only dare a glance back once you’re out of the school gates, catching sight of students still in their classroom completely oblivious that you’ve disappeared from their ranks. Telling the teachers where you were going was the last thing on your mind, but you at least have the foresight to send a message to the Summoner’s group chat before you turn off your phone and bolt from the premises, letting them know that you were going out for a day to clear your head. 

It was only supposed to be that one day, you swear, but things have never really had a penchant for going your way. If you had stayed just a few hours longer you’d have learned about the person clearing your name; you’d have seen the teachers’ mad dash through the school when they’d realized you weren’t in any of your classes; you’d have watched the outroar as the Summoner’s learned of the truth in your stead. But you’d missed it all, and spent the day wandering anywhere and everywhere instead - wherever you could go where you wouldn’t risk running into any faculty you went, stewing in thoughts and trying to forget just about everything that had happened for as long as you could before you were inevitably brought back to the school. 

Only that didn’t happen; you were able to crash at a friend’s house on the first night, called in a favor with a nearby guild for a place to sleep on the second night, and the hours in between were spent either wandering or getting dragged into fights - how ironic that even now you couldn’t avoid getting involved in other people’s problems even if you tried - it was seriously getting old. In the meantime, the Summoners are the only ones who get word about what’s happening, but even then you keep it vague so that you don’t worry them, not to mention you don’t want them to needlessly lie if they get questioned by the teachers concerning your whereabouts. Which is exactly what happens; the teachers are all worrying themselves sick by the time the third day rolls around without hide or hair of you, and it’s clear that there’s regrets voer what had transpired over the whole week. Jinn’s rolling your last encounter over and over in his head, wondering if there was something that he could have said that would have made you decide to stay put - maybe letting you know you had someone on your side - but the what-ifs won’t change the fact that you left. Triton’s still cursing how long it took for the news of your innocence to come to life, the thought of how you must have felt being looked at with such suspicion making guilt crawl up his spine and settle in his mind. And Mononobe doesn’t stop looking for you for a second - even if you scream at him or scold him or ignore him completely he needs to see that you’re okay and doesn’t want your last conversation with him being left on such bad terms. One thing is for certain though; they need to find you, and soon.

Things finally come to a head on the third day. Usually during after school hours you’d try to make yourself scarce in the area, but this time you weren’t so lucky. All too quickly you’re dragged into a spat with someone itching to boost their ego with an app battle, and though it was clear they’re all bark and no bite it’s tedious and you want it over with quickly. You just wish it was that simple, as the moment you ready your sacred artifact, watching your opponents prep to set up a battle zone, two figures block your view, standing almost protectively in front of you as they activate their respective sacred artifacts. You don’t even have to see them to recognize them - Mr. Triton and Mr. Jinn are both loud as they declare their presence, stepping into the fight in your stead. Before this week you would have laughed seeing the two of them standing side by side talking big about protecting you; but now? You feel your heart sink into your stomach - this could not have been the worse time to see them.

Mercifully, the battle staves off the inevitable conversation for a little while longer, as the three of you have to focus back on the fight at hand; your teachers are skilled, or at least driven by something to end the battle, and you aren’t willing to play around just to avoid what comes next, so it isn’t long before the person who challenged you and his friends to all back off, releasing the battle zone as they flee back into the crowds to nurse their mental wounds. You almost want to disappear into those crowds with them before you can get caught again, however the moment you turn you’re immediately accosted by Jinn and Triton, the two teachers fighting over each other to get the most concerned word in - where have you been? Why did you run away? Are you hurt?! Their concern is sincere, you can tell as much from their faces since hiding their emotions isn’t exactly their strong suit. And right over their shoulders you can see Mr. Mononobe too as he approaches to join the three of you, having not been involved in the battle zone for obvious reasons; but the sight of all three of them in the same place reminds you so much of that day you’d been accused and the emotions burn in your throat like poison.

There’s venom laced in your tone as you ask them why they stepped in, effectively silencing the two teachers as they share a brief glance and answer simultaneously. Hearing them talk about teachers protecting their students you have to bite your tongue because surely they know how hypocritical that sounds, right? But they keep talking, rambling on about making sure you’re safe and protecting you when you need it and it’s like a trigger, sending everything frothing to the surface. You laugh, bitter and sarcastic before asking if they’re serious - they've gotta be kidding - but you don’t even give them a chance to respond before your words claw their way out into the open and you just about lose it.

You don’t care about mincing your words as you practically bare your soul, everything that’s been welling up finally boiling over. You yell and scream and shout until your voice is hoarse because you’re so pissed that they have the audacity to talk about protecting you when they couldn’t even protect you from those accusations, from all those people thinking you destroyed something just because you could. They have no fucking right to even consider themselves your protectors when they looked at you with those same eyes full of pity, now turned to guilt in light of the truth that had come far too late, and you’re gonna make damn well that they know that you aren’t someone to be pitied - you’re vindicated, seething, and feeling so betrayed by the few adults that you were so sure that you could trust. But that trust was shattered - and that’s exactly why you left, because why would you want to be surrounded by people who couldn’t trust you?!

The emotion behind your voice is raw, and Jinn, Triton and even Mononobe seem to be at a loss for words - no words of reassurance, no advice, no words of wisdom - and that just twisted the knife in deeper when you’re met with no resistance whatsoever. You honestly don’t know what you expected - some kind of fight or rebuttal would justify these feelings that you have - but when you receive nothing of the sort in response you lose the wind in your sails and you choke on your shouts. Your words fail you, turning into sputtering and sharp gasps when you finally buckle and sink to your knees, wiping uselessly at your face as your eyes burn with the sting of tears - a feeling you’ve gotten so familiar with this past week it makes you loathe the feeling. If you could you’d still be yelling, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it - you’re tired, whittled down to your bare bones and you don’t even have the energy to be angry or care that you’re having what you’re pretty sure is a breakdown that wasn’t in the safety of your dorm room. You want to just curl up and disappear - just for a few days, that would be okay, right? Just until you can feel something in your chest that didn’t hurt like hell. The Summoners would understand, you think, they always did - they’d trusted you at least, when it felt like most didn’t. Why could they have been the ones to swoop in and help you? It’s a silly thought, but you feel like you at least wouldn’t be bawling like you are now if it had been them instead of the teachers; you can just imagine how they must be watching you cry in front of them.

Damn, this whole thing really was just a mess....

A hand touches your arm and another touches your back - you’d kick away if you could, but it’s like the touch saps you of all of your energy. Those hands have no right to be so warm, no right to feel so comforting, and yet they are and you want to cry all over again. You have no idea which teacher is the one who helps you to your feet as all three surround you with growing concern once your sobs filter off into broken sniffles, gaze torn between screwing shut to avoid looking at any of their faces and staring right at them so they can see all the emotions in your eyes that your words have failed to convey. When they talk about bringing you somewhere safe, back to the dorms or to the school to discuss everything that had happened, you’re in the right mind to run away all over again, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, you allow those hands on your back and shoulder and arm to guide your steps, ignoring the concern and grave expressions that the teachers share as the reality of what’s just transpired sets in. You don’t know what’s coming next, but you honestly don’t think you care anymore - all you can think about is how tired you are of everything, and this was apparently the last straw that you could handle.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

if it’s not too much to ask... india/china hcs pls? i know u ship it so i’d love to hear what ur opinions are!!

Thank you for asking friend!! It’s never a bother :)

Length Warning: Very, Very Long, A Lot Of Rambling

Preface: I honestly don’t know much in-depth stuff about India-China history (all the “history ramblings” is based on my previous knowledge + Wiki), so I don’t have a lot of grounding in what their relationship is like. Also, when writing their history I realized I still see them as a brotp (so the first part isn’t very shippy) but there are romantic ship headcanons at the end. See this cool post for other hcs!

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HISTORY RAMBLINGS

- I guess in Ancient Times, I see them having a friendly trading partner vibe; my personal hc of Ancient China is of someone who builds friendships for convenience, and then starts getting attached with time, so I think this is how his attitude was at first. He and India probably had some vague contact through diplomats and travellers who brought back tales to their own country, and then once trading and influence and religious imports (ex. Buddhism) really kicked off, they started actually interacting with each other (as people, not nations) and over time, that just kicked off into being closer and closer friends until they were basically lovers.

- In Hetalia canon China goes along with Zheng He (Ming Dynasty, early 1400s) on his voyages around the world (the episode with a giraffe), and historically they did make stops at India, where they traded and visited Buddhist temples and stuff; this would be fun to examine in terms of Indchu. I’m sure they had more opportunities to visit each other in person (in contrast to Romechu, the true long-distance relationship) but I’d like to see them just checking in on each other, talking about the news of the day and stuff! Talking about trade and the places they’ve seen; Yao rambling on and on about where he’s headed next, India interjecting time to time about things he’s heard about places far away from them. A moment of peace where they’re just super comfortable and relaxed with each other would be amazing

- Ok fast forward a bit to the 1850s-60s: Qing Dynasty is resting in pieces, the Opium Wars have thoroughly beaten China, the government is unstable from the Boxer Rebellion and there’s a bunch of hate at the ruling people, stuff happens. India has been taken by Britain and it’s Not Fun; these two old men are down in the dumps and being bitter together. I don’t think they’re “dating” or whatever rn because there’s just too much on both of their plates, but they are still close friends and still mutually hate England together. I can see them having tense arguments with each other out of pure stress, complaining about who has it worse: India, who has been made into a colony! *gasp* “My pride has been killed, Yao!” and China, who is basically a colony to 5 nations all at once and also reeling from losing HK to Britain. They know exactly how to hurt each other by this point, but they also know they don’t really mean it, and things usually blow over after they’re in their right minds again.

****Also, Indian sepoys were used by Britain to fight China, and Indian opium was shipped to China as well; I think that might have been a sticking point for a while, but I think Yao would’ve slowly accepted that India was not the one making decisions in the end. 

- The World Wars: India is in the Gallipoli campaign, conscripted by Britain, China is fighting on the side of the British and French but does not gain a single thing from winning, and has also lost the First Sino-Japanese War (I think Hetalia canon says China got his scar from there). Then Japan invades China, and he and India are fighting together in WWII against China’s estranged sibling/brother/vague relation. Both are beaten to the core, still bitter, but they keep reminding each other that they will just have to weather the storm and wait for their moment. This too shall pass. Same mood as the beginning of imperialism, but more tired and more done.

- After India’s Independence and China’s Government Overhaul: 1950s: India was one of the first non-Communist countries to recognize the PRC instead of the old ROC, but I think they started distancing from each other a little while after? There were territorial disputes with Nepal and I think both countries’ governments might have told them to cut it out and be less friendly with each other because they had rather clashing agendas

- Things seem to be relaxing just a bit, but then the Sino-Indian border dispute (1962) happens, and then there are other clashes near the border, and they don’t know if they can trust each other. Additionally, there’s the Sino-Soviet split, and India is getting help from the Soviets, and it makes things more complicated between them. The relationship is on shaky ground right now, and if they meet in person, both are putting on an impersonal facade. Not very friendly. I think they’re still cooling off until at least the late 1970s, when China’s economic reform happens.

- Skipping to Modern Day: they are cool again and are close friends again. However, they know their countries are competing in population, economy, world status/power, but they’re still friends. They know it might end badly, but I think they’ve learned to roll with the good times and savor it; their pride and hearts have been stomped on already so they don’t care anymore and take risks even if they might come out feeling a bit broken. They are buddies, and they might be dating, and they don’t really care about the boundary between friends and lovers. They are comfortable with each other.

- This article, published in 2007 by Harvard Business Review, presents an interesting take on China and India’s relationship, and in particular, their economies: it says that although people think they’re destined to be rivals because of their competing business sectors, they have developed complementary strengths and it’d be foolish not to work together. I think that could somewhat summarize Indchu’s relationship with each other in the hetaliaverse; they complement each other, and even if they might become competitors, it won’t affect their friendship/relationship because they just fit together. They click; it’s not forced friendship or whatever, they just integrate into each other so well (it’s almost like they’re meant to be together).

- There are border skirmishes (ex. the incident in June 2020), but I’m not really sure how that would factor into their relationship? Maybe they’ve gotten over it and they both know the other personification doesn’t like the fighting, and that their government’s opinions come first? Or maybe it’s still unresolved between them, because India has known Yao for a long time and knows what he’s capable of, and Yao knows what a potent force India can be when he wants? Idk. I think the idea of unresolved tension is more accurate, but I also like this ship because it’s soft and /mostly/ pure in modern day and I sometimes really want to ignore historical accuracy

ONTO THE GENERAL SHIP HEADCANONS!

- They argue with each other a lot, basically like an old married couple; their jibes at each other don’t mean anything though. China insists it’s so their wits stay sharp.

- Also they have debates over various academic topics; it’s basically their fun hobby by now. They’re both intellectually matched and read rather voraciously, so it’s a fun challenge (and keeps their wits sharp)

- I mentioned it before but it’s worth bringing up again: they know exactly how to hurt each other with their words; they just don’t get into bad fights often so they don’t need to cut each other to pieces.

- China is the less sentimental one, but they’re both really good at picking out tasteful, meaningful gifts for each other. “Experiences over material items/gifts” doesn’t really appeal to either of them; they’d much rather stay home being cozy than “gifting” each other a week in the Caribbeans or something.

- T e a  l e a v e s (No Teabags unless Strictly Necessary). No coffee, sugar, cream, or milk. Sometimes India jokes about switching over to coffee or drinking tea the British way, and Yao just goes “You’re canceled”, dead seriously.

- They wear each other’s traditional clothing sometimes. Occasionally Yao asks India to wear a hanfu instead of a changshan (men’s equivalent of qipao) because he thinks it’s more traditional (qipao was invented in the 1920s). India has managed to stuff Yao into a qipao at least three times, and has pictures to prove it.

- India likes running his fingers through China’s hair (he says it’s really soft, a comment that makes Yao scoff every time) and he sorta hates his ponytail for that reason alone. Yao knows this, and he tries to make up for it by letting it down more on weekends, when he doesn’t have to look presentable (also India insists Yao looks presentable all the time, another comment that always earns a scoff).

- They teach each other their own dishes. China has been getting in the habit of substituting beef and pork for other things, mainly tofu/chicken/shiitake mushrooms

- They take walks together in the evenings after dinner when they’re in the same place. As long as it’s still light out and the weather’s not too bad, they will do it every day (even if it’s raining, they might just bring an umbrella).

- Their way of showing affection is a) with gifts and b) just talking to each other about anything. It’s their way of winding down for the day and being comfortable with each other; they have long talks about random, silly little things that happened, perhaps a funny (or stupid) meme/joke their siblings sent, or dumb stuff that happened with their boss at a meeting.

- I think they’d call each other nicknames in private. It wouldn’t be something too “sickly sweet” I guess, but something to show they care. They use nicknames sparingly as well, so it doesn’t lose meaning through overuse. (I personally hate nicknames so I’m not giving out any suggestions here, but I think Yao would use something like “亲爱的” for India, basically means “dear/beloved”. Not too flashy or sweet, but still affectionate.)

- China gifts houseplants to India’s apartment/house because he knows India likes them (I think he’s a green thumb). China doesn’t really bother with decorative plants; he prefers to grow spring onions and other low maintenance shit that he can use in his cooking lol he’s all about the practicality

- During ancient times, they had lengthy, invigorating discussions about mathematics, either through letters or in person.

- They aren't really affectionate in public; PDA is limited to hand holding and occasionally a kiss on the cheek. Neither China nor India are the type to “show off” their relationship or their partner.

- Adding onto that, they don’t really announce their relationship to everybody but if you ask them, they’ll tell you. Basically you have to be the one to notice something’s up; they just don’t think it's necessary to share every little bit of information about their lives with people. They're the “secretly married” couple trope; signs of affection are rather subtle but still noticeable because they don’t act that way to other people.

- China forced India to get a Wechat so he can send India 10¥ red packets every week just because he has the app

- Not really a ship headcanon, but these two would throw the best parties??? Like if you want a party that’s really loud and noisy and fun, ask them. They may be old and “not fun” or whatever but they know how to organize large scale events effectively and how to achieve the correct atmosphere, and despite all Yao’s siblings’ trash talk, they usually pull off very stylish, sleek functions/events. Maybe it’s a little tacky here and there but it’s barely noticeable, and everyone is just. Awed.

Yeet that’s it; thank you for reading! This got really long, and I feel like a lot of the headcanons were rather platonic, but yeah! Hope you like it!