#sorry another thousand times for making you anon wait so long for my response!!!

[leixo-demo]

Some Takabikkan? being silly at an arcade or just the mall in general if you’re cool with that

I at first did a comic but completly forgot about the -kkan in it so I did another tiny drawing as "I'm sorry I misread"

Here's them after buying something at the mall and bellow it's the mentioned comic:

And now my ideas and thoughts about them as usual! I don't share the ship at all , I mean if you like it super fine I simply don't take it because of my headcanons. Maybe they were exes at some point and Warabi just left him behind one day without response but beyond that I don't think they be in a polycule or Warabi ever returning with Taka

BTW I got a complete oposite request about Taka and Ikkan hating eachother and it's really funny to see the Taka fans spectrum, you love him or hate him

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?  

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.  

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

[kkthefrontbottoms]

hey it’s anon again i’m very very self conscious about having nf1 and i really find it hard to reach out. hence why i’m on anon rn lol.

none of my friends apart from a very select few know and when my confidence is up i just wanna make friends with some nf1 ppl. i’m 24 and the last i spoke to anyone with nf was when i was 8. my parents took me to the NF society thing which i have some pretty happy memories off.

i just want to relate to people instead of having just myself. like nobody gets the anxiety of getting a neurofibroma or worrying when something isn’t totally 100% okay and i just wanna feel included in this very lonely club :( i’m the only one in my family that has it too.

i’m from the uk btw

Sorry if this response is a lot, anon. You are the first adult with NF1 I've been able to talk to about these things so I'm going to ramble. I'm 22.

I'm also the only one in my family that has it, and the only time I've met someone with the condition was in the waiting room at the neurologist. It can be really isolating because no one, even those closet to you, can understand what its like to have a body riddled with tumors. Sure, they're benign but it's still anxiety-inducing.

I remember when I learned that something made me different from all the other kids, I was nine and there's some sense of community that I haven't been able to access sense. These lumps on all over my body have always separated me from my peers, the way they ache, and the way I fear what could be growing somewhere inside me, without my knowledge is terrifying, and it's not a fear anyone can relate to unless they have the condition. Plus, when I talk about it, it sounds like I'm paranoid and my friends can't understand. Knowing you are different, and not having any who is that same type of different is a terrible feeling. I've been thinking about trying to make a discord server for people with NF, but I need to find enough people first.

Since I turned fourteen, my mom has been pushing for me to get surgery to get my fibromas removed. And while it would be great to be free of them, it often feels like she just wants me to be "normal." She's never asked if it's something I want to do with my body. Sometimes, I don't mind it, the being different, but then I look at myself in the mirror for a second too long or I imagine my body and all the ways my life would improve without these bumps and lumps all over.

Plus, there's another added element being trans and starting hrt, not knowing what can happen because there's no research on a body like mine or yours that is also a trans body. But, unless you're also queer, I don't want to get into that. There's so little information about NF that I considered studying neurology just to understand my own body. Sure, we're only one in three-thousand, but isn't that still a large enough amount for people to care?

But, there's gotta be humor in this somewhere. I don't have a fear of needles or MRIs because I never was able to, there's some humor in that, I think. I don't know what your experience was like growing up, especially as a teen, but I want to think there's something about having sat through a dozen MRIs before I was fifteen that made me stronger. There has to be something about all the blood work and exams that will make the rest of life easier, right?

Once again, sorry if this was a lot. It was very cathartic to be able to know someone else might understand what I feel

[forjongseong]

words of affirmation // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: jay x fem!reader (established relationship)

genre: smut // warning: mentions of insecurity, body image, reader is older than Jay, fingering (f. receiving) // wc: ~1.6k

summary: you've put on a couple of pounds and it bothers you, but your boyfriend is there to remind you that you're beautiful.

author's note: I am absolutely delighted at the amount of response I have gotten from posting at fault, so I present to you, a Jay fic! still written in third-person, I hope you like this just as much as I do. now I swear I have proofread this work a couple of times but PLEASE let me know if there are any mistakes! anon asks and messages are welcomed!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a rainy afternoon at the café where Y/N sat with her two friends, Mina and Jayoon. The two of them sat across Y/N, talking to each other about fashion trends and sharing funny TikToks. Y/N then looked out the window and observed the people walking by.

A group of three friends, all wearing skinny jeans and a matching t-shirt with different colors, almost like a uniform.

A couple, the girl holding and umbrella and the guy with his hand around her tiny waist.

Two model-like ladies, strutting down the street with their boots from the newest fall collection.

“I feel like you would rock this,” said Mina, pointing her phone towards Y/N. “Y/N?”

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts and quickly leaned in. “Yeah?” She glanced back at Mina. “Nah, she’s killing that outfit because she’s got the body for it.”

“Still,” Mina leaned back to her seat as she retracted her hand, “it’s totally your style.”

Jayoon nodded approvingly as she sipped on her almost-empty cup of latte. The three of them continued their conversation for another hour as they all waited for the rain to stop.

---

When Y/N arrived home, she felt irritated. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the long hours she spent just scrolling Twitter and reading comments on articles about her boyfriend’s group, or if it was because of the amount of dessert she ate that made her have an upset stomach.

She walked to the kitchen and towards the calendar on the fridge. It was not even the time for PMS, so she wondered what could have been the trigger for her mood swings. Deciding to brush it off, Y/N made herself a cup of tea and walked over to her desk to get some work done while she waited for her boyfriend to come home.

Hours later, she found herself slumped over her desk, her glasses put aside and her laptop halfway closed. She noticed her phone blinking, an incoming call from Jay.

“Hi,” she answered, her voice croaked. “Sorry, I just woke up.”

“Be there in 2 minutes, babe,” said Jay.

Y/N glanced to the window and only then she noticed it had gotten dark.

Not even a minute later, she heard a knock on the door. As she walked to open it, Jay playfully knocked again a thousand times faster.

“My God, I’m coming!” Y/N shouted.

As the door swung open, Jay lunged himself into his girlfriend’s embrace, making them both sway side to side.

“Finally, I get to smell you,” he said as he inhaled into Y/N’s hair. Y/N chuckled.

“So nice to see you too,” Y/N closed the door behind her as she watched Jay take off his jacket and throw it on the sofa. He then rolled up the sleeves on his shirt and looked around the kitchen.

“Did you eat?” he asked.

Y/N shook her head. “Not hungry.”

“Really?” Jay stood there and checked the time on his watch. “I ate an hour ago but I’m already hungry again.”

“There’s snacks in the cabinet if you want,” Y/N said softly. She then walked towards the laptop and saw her browser open on the Twitter page. Instantly, she felt irritated.

Jay settled for a yoghurt and popped a bottle open as he walked towards the sofa.

“Are you sure you’re not going to eat? I can cook for you.”

“I said I’m not hungry, Jay.”

Jay cocks his head. “Are you alright?” His voice started to sound concerned.

Without answering, Y/N stormed off to her room, almost slamming the door shut. Jay saw that her behaviour seemed unusual, so he sat there for a while contemplating how to handle it.

Soon after, Jay decided to knock on Y/N’s bedroom door. It was already open, so his movement actually pushed the door open. He saw Y/N standing in front of the mirror, her brows furrowed, wearing just pyjama pants and a bra. Her hands were placed around her waist, like she was hugging herself, but when Jay saw her she immediately walked away from the mirror.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jay did not know how else phrase his question. He was genuinely concerned.

Y/N quickly put on the black t-shirt that was already on the bed. “I don’t want to talk.”

Her response alarmed Jay, so he reacted by sitting on the bed and grabbing Y/N’s wrist. “Talk to me anyway.”

Y/N looked at Jay’s hand around her wrist before she pulled her hand away. “I’ll just sleep it off.”

Having none of this, Jay clicked his tongue and stood up. “Fine, but don’t blame me later saying that I’m not there to listen.”

Y/N flinched at the change in Jay’s tone. And with that, Jay walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door open. Y/N lied on her bed for what felt like hours before Jay came back into her room. Her tears that fell sideways to her pillow were almost dry.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” Jay said as he knelt down beside the bed, facing Y/N. “If you want to talk I’ll be here. If you don’t, I’ll be here anyway.”

“I don’t fit into my old jeans anymore,” said Y/N, sniffling.

Jay paused for a second. “That’s what this is?”

Y/N frowned and quickly sat up, wiping away her tears. “See? I know you won’t understand.”

Jay was mildly confused because it was literally the first time Y/N had talked about her weight. She had always seemed like a confident one, never worrying about trivial things like physical appearance, so seeing her act like this made Jay flustered and slightly upset.

“I go out and see all the other girls looking flawless. Slender. Slim. Younger. Smaller. And I’m here just… getting older.”

Conversations about their age gap had come up before, but this was the first time that it had bothered Y/N. Jay chose to listen.

Y/N walked over to her vanity and put on her glasses. She caught her reflection in the mirror.

“I just don’t understand right now.”

“About what?” asked Jay, in a tone as soft as he could manage.

“How you’re here with me instead of someone else. Someone your age.”

Y/N said the last part of her sentence almost with disgust. Jay sighed as he put his face into the palms of his hand. He was aware that nothing he said would ease Y/N’s mind, so he had to find another way.

Jay stood up and walked towards Y/N. He made her face him and gently cupped her face, closing in the distance between them by taking her lips in his. Y/N felt another tear drop down her face.

“You’re beautiful,” said Jay, almost in a whisper, “let me show you.”

Jay continued to leave kisses on Y/N’s face, peppering her on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and her chin before he went back to her lips. Y/N brought her arms around Jay’s neck, and Jay continued his trail of kisses down her chin and to her collarbone. As his kisses started getting wet and sloppy, Y/N sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. Jay circled back to Y/N’s lips and he pulled her closer to him, even though there was literally no space left between them.

Pulling away, Y/N showed a hard time catching her breath, and Jay felt bad. He then maneuvered Y/N to make her face the standing mirror by her wardrobe, so that both of them are looking at their reflections. Jay stood behind Y/N, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s through the reflection as he gently tugged Y/N’s shirt over her body. He kissed her shoulders and rubbed her arms gently, making sure she wasn’t feeling the slightest bit of cold.

“You’re beautiful.”

This time Jay whispered his words right into Y/N’s ear, and she closed her eyes. He carefully took off her bra, and before Y/N could bring her hands up to cover her breasts, Jay’s hands arrived first, cupping them and giving a gentle squeeze. Y/N laid her head back on Jay’s shoulder, and he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

“Open your eyes for me. Please?”

Y/N did as he said, but not looking at her reflection. She turned to the side and saw Jay’s eyes staring back at her. She leaned in for a kiss, and he whispered once again into her mouth.

“Beautiful.”

Jay placed his fingers on Y/N’s chin and made her look at herself in the mirror. Meanwhile, his other hand was already traveling downwards, grazing her belly, and tugging on her pyjama pants. Y/N brought one hand up, setting it behind Jay’s neck, and her other hand guided him down. She gasped as soon as she felt Jay’s cold fingers graze her clit. The grip of her hand around his neck tightened, and Jay responded with a kiss to her shoulder.

He continued to finger her, alternating between digits, and once in a while whispering in her ear again how beautiful she was. Y/N started to squirm, and her breath became hitched. Jay took this as a sign to speed up.

“Jay,” Y/N sighed between her breath. “Don’t stop.”

Moments later, she came on his fingers as they still stood in the same position. Jay brought his right hand down to give her a squeeze around her waist, telling her she did a good job. He brought his left hand towards his mouth and licked his fingers clean, still looking at Y/N.

“My beautiful, beautiful Y/N,” said Jay as Y/N turned to face him. “Don’t let anyone, or anything, make you think otherwise.”

Y/N pulled Jay’s face down to kiss him deeply, hoping her gratitude could be delivered through her lips. Jay smiled into the kiss and tightened his grip around the waist of his beautiful girlfriend.

-END-

© forjongseong 2022, all rights reserved

reblogs and feedback would be much appreciated!

[writing-wh0re]

I want you to know that I love you for that Druig Smut, more pls, 😩 Maybe some angst in the mix, or mortal reader with Druig and he is really protective over her but doesn’t want to be with her at first because he wants her to be safe but one day he sees her with another guy and then they get into some argument but it ends with smut and them being in love 😩

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

Druig x Mortal Reader

Words: 2,712.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Praise Kink, Begging Kink, Fingering, Cock Warming (slight). I think thats it...

A/n: I hope you enjoy Anon! Sorry its long!

Please note, there are no spoilers in this! Use of characters only, no link to movie.

Druig Headcanon

Waited Years - Smut18+ 

Something Special - Smut18+

Masterlist

Druig and I had been friends for years, I physically ran into him one day at the London Library, spilling hot coffee all over myself. Druig was kind enough to lend me his leather jacket and since then, we’ve been close.

I remember the day Druig told me about him being an Eternal, it didn’t seem real but then again the last five years had literally disappeared because a purple dude snapped his fingers, so I guess anything is possible. Although a part of my heart broke the day he told me this, being thousands of years old, watching everyone die, new people walking around him. Eternity by himself, the thought of us together completely crashing down.

A small part of me is always worried for when the day might come that he controls me and makes me leave him behind. Something that truly terrifies me, not only because he’s my best friend but because he’s the one I love, the one I look for in every crowd, the one I attempted to replace during fast hookups and drunken nights.

“What’s on your mind, love?”

My heart hammers against my chest at his voice, my eyes looking up from my phone.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second.” I smile weakly, looking down at my phone again. Jay, 23, loves cozy nights with a good movie and wants to know a time for a drink tonight.

“Everything alright?” Druig’s hand rests on my knee, his thumb brushing circles on my skin, every single touch ignites a small fire inside of me.

“Yeah, I’d tell you if it wasn’t, I’m meeting a friend tonight.”

Druig stays quiet, simply nodding in response as he crosses his arms. I move from the couch, walking around my apartment to my bedroom, wanting to find an outfit.

“So this friend, do I know them?”

“Highly doubt that.”

“Try me.”

“Jay.” I state, holding different outfits up against my body as Druig leans against my door frame.

“Jay.” Druig whispers the name, rolling his eyes before walking over to my bed and laying down on the mattress, his hands under his head.

“And how did you meet Jay?”

Typical, Druig always has questions about my dates, what’s their name, what's their bio say and some snarky comment about how every man loves the outdoors and its not something unique.

“Work.” I lie, my voice jumping up an octave slightly causing Druig to chuckle.

“Nice try.”

“It’s just a drink.” I huff, finally deciding on a black mid thigh body con dress.

I walk into my ensuite to get changed, closing the door slightly. I quickly change my outfit, opening the door as I lean against the frame.

“You should go out for a drink tonight, go look at the museum or something.”

Druig groans, his face turning towards me as he shifts on the bed, his eyes racking down my body, making me fully aware of how short this dress is.

“I should change.” I mumble walking over to my wardrobe as Druig jumps in front of me, his hands falling under my elbows.

“Don’t, Jay won’t know what’s hit him.” There it is again, the small fires igniting on my skin.

My eyes lock with Druig, the space between us extremely small. I flick my eyes to his lips before my phone tings repeatedly, pulling us out of our shared trance. I run a hand through my hair quickly, grabbing my phone and sighing.

“Is Jay needy?” Druig smirks, amused at the almost quadruple text messages from this man.

“Just lost.” I quickly type a reply, before rushing around to grab my shoes and bag.

“Seriously? Is this guy even worth it?” Druig continues to question me, my own mind asking the same questions.

“That’s what the drink is for, gotta suss him out first.”

Druig rolls his eyes, holding my apartment door open.

“Go rescue the damsel.”

I narrow my eyes at him, pulling my jacket on.

“Coming up with jokes now?” Druig smiles sweetly at me, as if he’s done nothing wrong.

“You can stay here if you want, but seriously consider going out for a drink or maybe go borrow another book.” I suggest as Druig nods, gesturing for me to leave.

“Go have fun with Jai.”

“Jay.”

“Darling, I don’t care.”

I scoff, walking out of my apartment. He could be a little nicer about this.

\\//

20 minutes. 20 minutes of pure awful small talk and Jay going on and on about the stock market and why it’s good to invest into Stark Industries, like I honestly care about that.

“Excuse me.” I look up at the waiter, thankful for the small interruption and silence from Jay.

“This is for you.” The waiter places down a vodka sunrise cocktail in front of me. I suck my teeth, fucking Druig.

“We didn’t order this.” Jay scoffs.

“Correct Sir, the gentlemen at the bar did.” The waiter moves to the side, Druig raising his glass in the air, sending a wink in my direction as butterflies erupt deep in my stomach, a sigh passing my lips. “The gentlemen has a message for you.”

“Fucking poser.” Jay mumbles low attempting to go unnoticed but failing.

The waiter looks over Jay with disgust before looking at me and smiling.

“The message, A drink is always a good idea.” The waiter smiles, quickly turning away from the table as I swirl my straw around the glass. I chuckle softly, my eyes flicking to Druig, his already locked onto me. My breath hitches slightly as his eyes trail over my body slowly.

“Are you going to drink that?” Jay asks, his hand gesturing to the cocktail glass.

“With pleasure.” I bring the glass to my lips, quickly downing the liquid in one go.

“Shit.” Jay is shocked at my actions. I feel the soft alcohol warmth fill my chest, quickly flicking my eyes to an amused and smug Druig.

“Anyway, so Tony Stark.” My mind instantly switches off not wanting to listen to another minute about stocks or Tony Stark.

Every now and again I flick my eyes over to Druig, his gaze never leaving me.

\\//

“Let me walk you home, London isn’t the safest city.”

I open my mouth to protest Jay’s claim, his hand grabbing mine and forcing our fingers together as he blindly leads us down the street.

“Might be best if you follow me.”

Jay smiles at me nodding, I quickly take in his appearance, mentally slapping myself. Of course he resembles Druig.

After ten minutes of walking Jay and I reach my apartment, his eyes taking in the surroundings.

“I had fun.”

I smile weakly at him, rummaging through my bag for my apartment key, a groan passing my lips. I left it on the kitchen counter. The night just keeps getting better and better.

“You okay?” Jay asks, his hand rubbing up and down my arm, a cold feeling washing over me with every stroke. I move away from him, before nodding.

“Yeah, just left my key inside, I’ll have to call a friend.”

“You could come home with me, I’m only half an hour away.”

Jay walks closer to me, my back hitting against the door, his hand on my hip the same cold feeling washing over me.

“Am I interrupting?”

Relief fills me at Druig’s voice. Jay sucks his teeth pulling away from me as he faces Druig.

“Aren’t you the guy from the bar?”

Druig smirks, chuckling softly, my apartment key in his hand as my keychain jingles.

“Are you stalking my girl here?”

“Hear that Y/n, you’re his girl, congratulations.”

I roll my eyes at the two of them, putting my hand out.

“The key.”

“Woah, woah, key? This douche has your key?” Jay asks, putting his hand in front of me to stop me from getting the key.

I open my mouth to speak before Druig cuts me off.

“Douche? Wow, haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Druig.” I warn, wanting to just get inside and wash this guy and date off me.

“You know him?”

“He’s a friend.” I mumble as Jay smirks, walking up to Druig, being face to face with him. Jay’s eyes travel over Druig a chuckle passing his lips.

“Friend, bet that stings huh bud.”

Druig licks his lips, tilting his head slightly as he laughs at Jay. Jay puffs his chest out a bit more not having expected Druig to laugh in his face.

“Keep laughing buddy, I’ll be the one making her scream my name later.”

Druig’s jaw clenches, his hands forming into fists as his eyes glow yellow.

“Leave, forget this night, take a train to Glasgow.”

Jay’s eyes settle back to their normal colour as he mindlessly walks away from us.

Silence falls over Druig and I, my brain trying to figure out what just occurred. That’s the first time Druig has used his power in front of me.

I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hot. The dark part of me screaming about how powerful he truly is, how in control he can be.

Druig walks into my dark apartment, flicking on the lamp in the lounge room as I drop my bag and jacket on the dinning table.

“Seriously Y/n, you honestly pick dickheads.”

I chuckle, clicking my tongue. Ignoring him.

“When will you learn?”

“Learn what Druig? If you have a magical solution for me finding the one, then enlighten me.”

Druig runs his hands down his legs, sighing as he looks out of my balcony door, the city lighting up the sky, staying quiet.

“Exactly, do you think I like going out with guys like that? Guy’s that don’t give a fuck about what I like but cannot wait to take me to bed?”

Druig’s jaw clenches again as he runs his hand over his face and through his hair.

“Do you want me to thank you? Thanks for having a pissing contest outside of my apartment, thanks for ordering me a drink and stirring the pot, it really made my night.”

I turn away from him before his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Do you get how fucking hard it is for me? Seeing you waste your time on guy’s like him, guys who only want to get you between the sheets?”

Druig stands, only a few inches away from me.

“You don’t get it do you?”

I cross my arms over my chest, a small amount of fear filling me, is this the moment I’ve been worrying about, the moment Druig decides this is to hard and he walks away.

“What is there to get Druig? You’re jealous because I get to try and find my person and you don’t get to?”

Druig scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at the ground.

I instantly want to take my words back but im so mad at him, how dare he give me shit for trying to replace him, its not fucking easy.

Druig sighs, his eyes locking with mine, “Y/n, I’m in love with you and it fucking sucks seeing you with other guys, guys that aren’t worth your time, so yeah I guess I’m jealous.”

My brain tries to comprehend what Druig just confessed to me. He loves me?

Druig’s eyes search mine, a blank stare present on my face.

“Say something, please.”

I flick my eyes from his to his lips, choosing to show my actions rather than use my words. I close the gap between us, his hands falling to the middle of my back and keeping me close to his chest, my fingers running through his hair.

Our lips fit perfectly against each other, the kiss filled with every emotion, love, eagerness, gentle and urgent.

Druig walks me backwards, my back hitting my bedroom door allowing for the wood to swing open, clearing the small distance to my bed. Our lips pull apart from each other, pulling each other's clothes from our bodies, eager to finally be together.

Druig holds my waist, stepping away from me slightly, truly taking in my appearance as blush fills my cheeks.

“Beautiful, my beautiful girl.” Butterflies take over all of my senses, his lips attaching to mine again as I fall back onto the bed. His knee falls between my thighs, his hand moving from beside my head and running down my body. His fingertips causing goosebumps and shivers to wash over me.

His fingers dance over my thighs, brushing against my dripping pussy. His smile breaks our kiss, our eyes locking together.

“Who made you this wet?”

I smirk, biting my lip as Druig studies my face. His finger presses flat against my throbbing clit, a gasp passing my lips.

“I asked a question.”

Arousal rushes to my core, Druig completely taking over my senses.

“You did.”

Druig hums in response, slowly circling his finger on my clit, his lips attaching to my neck as he licks and sucks my skin, leaving his mark on me. I moan at the feeling, my fingers tugging on his hair. My back arches into his chest as he slips a finger inside of me, pumping in and out with ease, my slick walls welcoming him. Druig adds another finger, curling them inside of me, pressing against my spongy spot.

“Oh fuck.”

Druig moans, kissing down my body, his lips trailing over my breasts. He takes my nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the hardening bud before sucking it, pulling back enough for our eyes to meet as he winks at me. My eyes roll back, a chorus of sighs and moans falling from my lips.

He keeps his pace, his fingers slipping in and out of me.

“Druig, please.”

Druig’s cock brushes against my thigh, twitching at my plea.

“Please.” His dick twitches again as I smirk figuring out he has a begging kink.

“Druig.” He groans, pulling his fingers from me as I whimper at the loss of contact. He sits back on his calves, basking in the image of me under him, begging for his cock.

“Fuck me, please.” Druig sighs deeply, pumping his cock a few times before lining up with my entrance.

“Anything for you baby.”

I smirk at the pet name, my mouth falling open as I gasp, his cock stretching my walls. Druig moans at the feeling of my walls clenching around him, his head tilted back.

I wiggle my hips, silently begging for him to move. He slowly thrusts in and out of me, savouring the feeling of his cock disappearing inside of me.

“Good girl, fuck your pussy is good.” I moan at the praise, his hips rocking into mine. He bends towards me, his body covering me as our lips meet. Soft, gentle and loving kisses in between moans and gasps as his cock massages my walls.

“Faster, please.” Druig moans at my plea, speeding up his pace. Druig moves some of the hair out of my face, our eyes locking together as he smiles.

“I love you so fucking much.”

Tingles rush through me at his words, a smile dances across my face, blush heating up my cheeks.

“I love you.”

Druig’s eyes flutter closed as he continues to thrust in and out of me, his hand moving to my pussy, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit.

“Holy fuck.” I moan at the added pleasure, my nails digging into his forearm as his lips kiss up and down my neck, whispering praise into my ear.

“Good girl.”

“Take me so well.”

“Feel so good baby.”

I feel my body go hot, my muscles tensing.

“Let go, cum for me Y/n, I’ve got you.”

I moan his name loud, my legs shaking around him, my back arching as my boobs press against his chest.

Druig thrusts into me a few more times, his moans filling the air as he cums inside of me, a warmth shooting through my core.

Druig cups my face in his hands, placing a soft kiss to my lips before laying beside me, pulling me closer to him as I gasp, his cock staying buried inside of me.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I smile at his words, happy to finally have him as mine.

\\//

@maybesandohnos

Druig Taglist -

@i-love-scott-mccall

@ellabellabus07

@artaxerxesthegreat

@eternals-favorite

@strawberry-cake1

@tommysprincess

@marvelettabarnes

@neridavidson00

@ashleycadenas831

@enthusiastkpop

@characterobsessed

@harqnesss

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@anakinslightsaber4000

@sofiaaraee

@simpinforsebbyandbarry

@drukkariii

@druigmybelovedone

@qxldtom

[march-harrigan]

Could you do Arkhamverse! Jervis with a S/O, preferable female, whose kind of like a catwoman figure? Not the whole cats thing but she’s very seductive and flirts her way into getting what she wants. She takes a deep interest in Jervis? Like she is always complimenting him and has a smooth tone when she talks with him, and she tries to impress him with her looks? She want something from him she just wants him to love her?

GASP! I managed to write a drabble with over a thousand words? What is this witchcraft! Anyway, I hope you like it, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one.

It had started so simply. A wink in his direction here, some honeyed words there. But you hadn't expected his reaction to your flirtations to be so… Cute. The way he'd blush, eyes owlishly wide as he tried to parse your intentions. At the time, it had been business as usual for you. A way past him when he caught you with the loot he'd planned on claiming for himself. But that first time he could only manage a surprised squeak in response, you'd fallen for him.

Perhaps that's why you'd been so sloppy and left the spoils of your little escapade behind. You didn't even want it anymore. No, the prize you were after from that moment on was something far more valuable. All you wanted now was his affection.

You saw a lot more of him after that. Whether it was coincidence or subtle planning on your part was anyone's guess. Either way, the result was the same. You'd bump into each other, his eyes lighting up when you greeted him with a smile. That recognition, that immense joy on his face as you strolled towards him would always make your heart flutter. And each time, you'd fight down the bubbling feeling in your chest, flirting as confidently as you ever had.

Many of your fellow rogues seemed to assume it was him doing the planning, of course. That after getting a taste of a woman's attention, he was obsessed and arranging these encounters with you. And when they'd find out you pulled your usual temptress routine, they would warn you. "He'll get the wrong idea," they'd say. And each time, you'd reply with only two words.

"Will he?"

If anything, you worried the opposite of what they warned you against. That he wasn't getting the message. That the routine you had developed with him was too much like the usual coquettish tactics you'd use in your capers. That despite the overwhelmingly positive response you always got from him, the real sincerity of your feelings wasn't getting through. Tonight… Tonight, that would have to change. Tonight, you would visit him in his own hideout.

__________________________________________________

True to form, he was making tea when you arrived, just now taking the kettle off the stove. How fortunate that he had already placed it on the counter before you came in through the window. If that startled expression was anything to go by, you had given him quite a fright and you didn't want him spilling boiling hot water on himself.

"Sorry to drop in unannounced, sweetie. I didn't mean to scare you," you drawled, a smirk in your voice as you lazily placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his body stiffened and then immediately relaxed at your touch was all too familiar to you by now. You sauntered your way around the shorter rogue and leaned down, draping your arms around him from behind. "And how is my favorite Hatter doing this evening? Hm?"

"Oh! W… Well," he trailed off on your name, certainly not seeming to mind when you tilted his hat ever so slightly to one side and gave yourself room to kiss his cheek. A stuttering, blushy mess, this man. You couldn't help but adore that about him. But as much as you got a kick out of his reactions, you gave him a moment to regain his composure afterwards. How else could he answer your question? "I'm… I'm assuredly doing quite well, my dear… Especially now that. you are here."

Ah, the rhyming. Not something he always did. But when it happened, it was just another of his little quirks that you loved.

"Really? Well, I'm happy to hear that I have such a positive impact," you chuckled, now fully allowing your head to rest on him. The feeling of proximity earned a contented sigh and a large, dopey grin from Jervis. As with every meeting prior, he had quickly become putty in your hands. And yet, as always, you had no desire to shape him. No, you wanted only for him to understand that you loved him. And hopefully, for him to love you in return. So tonight, you'd decided now or never, that it was time to open up heart to him. Dropping the seductive tone, you spoke once again. "There's actually something I wanted to discuss with you. Could we sit down?"

Maybe it was the question, or perhaps the shift in tone. But something had brought him back to his senses and he was now looking over his shoulder at you.

"Of course, of course! Right this way," he beamed, turning and taking one of your hands into both of his. Before you could even react, he'd led you to the table and pulled you into one of the chairs. Just a moment more and he was seated near you. His elbows on the table and his face resting in his hands with the look of a man already listening intently. In this moment, you were the center of his world. "Now. What is it you wanted to tell me, my dear?"

You didn't answer right away. Your journey to the table had happened so quickly that it took your mind a moment to catch up with what had just happened. But soon enough, you adjusted yourself in your seat and began. "I… Guess it's no secret we've been seeing a lot of each other lately. And that I've been flirting with you for quite a while now."

"Oh, yes, yes! Don't think I hadn't noticed, you naughty minx," he agreed. That same goofy grin from before plastered itself across his face as he reached over and gently booped your nose. Perhaps you'd been wrong. Maybe he'd known all along that your intentions were genuine… Or not, judging by the way his smile faded into a pout. "It's impolite to tease, you know. It makes me miss you when you go."

"But I'm not teasing!"

You'd blurted it out almost too quickly. And now his gaze on you only intensified, like he was waiting on you to elaborate. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as, for the first time, you realized you weren't as good at this sort of thing as you thought you were. Still, you knew you had to say something. You knew you had to try. And so with a deep breath, you spoke those simple words that you'd wanted to say to him all along. "I love you, Jervis."

It was impossible to gauge his reaction at first. The way he froze, still as stone. He would assure you it wasn't a negative reaction if he only could, but it was all he could do now to just process the words you'd just said. Love. You loved him. It was only the growing concern on your face that brought him out of it, allowing him to replace his blank, wide-eyed expression with a growing smile. "You… You love… Me?" he questioned, praying that he had heard the words correctly.

"I do," you confirmed. There wasn't a single note of hesitation in your voice. Worry at what he might say, but not hesitation. You'd finally said it and you were sticking by it.

There was another beat of silence, but it was soon broken. A small giggle from Jervis that erupted into a fit of melodious laughter, warm and inviting. The Hatter sang your name in reply. He couldn't recall a time in his life that he'd been happier than this very moment. "My dear, why the troubled face? What reason is there to fuss and fret when it's so plain to see that I love you too!?"

With that, he leapt out of his chair to pull you into a hug. And as he held you close, you realized that it was your turn. For once, you were the one with the dopey, love drunk grin on their face.

[letarasstuff]

Notice me!

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it1

Summary: Teenagers at JJ's daughter's school get attacked. Does she fit the victomology?

Warnings: feeling uncared for

Wordcount: 2.7k

✨Masterlist✨ ___________________________________

“Good morning, my lovelies. The good news: The case is local. The bad news: Somebody is attacking teenage girls from the same high school”, Penelope starts the briefing, dressed in a bright pink dress with matching accessories.

“Are they from the same class? Age?” Hotch asks, looking over the file. Upon opening her own, JJ feels like her heart stops. “Negative, the three girls are from different years even. The only connection is the school.” “It’s (Y/N)’s school. She-she is a Junior there. I-Hotch?” Desperately she looks at her boss.

The team’s eyes soften. It’s already difficult with minors involved, but when it gets personal the case is a thousand times harder.

“Call her and tell her we get her to answer a few questions. At this point we can be sure it’s someone from the staff or a student. Time is the essence. Reid and JJ, you get (Y/N). Morgan and Prentiss, you question the first two. Dave and I take the last one and then go to the crime scenes. Garcia, I want you to find out anything about the victims and their families. Check their social media sites and look out for anything that connects them”, the Unit Chiefs orders.

Everybody gets up immediately. JJ has her phone already at hand. The longer it takes her daughter to take the call, the more nervous she gets.

“Mom? Did something happen? You know exactly I’m at school. I don’t wanna get in-” “Honey, Uncle Spence and I come to get you. There is something we have to question you about.” The teenager is silent for a moment. “It’s about the girls that got beaten up, isn’t it?”

Her mother sighs. Of course nothing like that stays quiet for long. “Yes, it is.” JJ doesn’t see the point in lying to her. “Ok. Uhm, can you just question me at school? I really don’t wanna leave, because I have soccer practice after school for the game this evening.”

A little light blinks at that in JJ’s mind. “Isn’t it that important game, where scouts are coming?” (Y/N) begins to smile. Her mother remembers it. Maybe she does pay attention to her. Maybe, just maybe, she pays enough to come and see her. After all she even took a day off for Henry’s recital last time.

“Yes, you said you will come and cheer for me.” JJ’s heart aches. She knows that her oldest often backs down due to her mother’s job. More often than the blonde agent likes to admit she has stood her daughter up to save someone’s life. “I try to be there in time, Honey. I can’t promise you anything, though. Just let us hope we solve this case quickly, ok?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders drop. Of course, how could she be this naive to think her mother cares enough to at least try to make it to her probably most important game? “Alright. Text me when you are here or just get me excused at the secretary's office. Bye.”

JJ looks at her phone in puzzlement. The teenager always is understanding of her job and the sacrifices it takes. One night under a lot of tears she confessed to her mother that everytime she is away on a case, she is in the greatest state of worry. Will reported repeatedly that (Y/N) is miserable whenever her mother isn’t at home.

So she told her daughter about the pact she made with her sister. Any time they miss each other, they go out and look at the moon, knowing that they see the same. JJ also admitted that she and Henry are the reason she is even working as a profiler. The agent wants to make the world safer for her kids. A safe space, where they can grow up and go to the park without worrying about Stranger Danger or anything else.

“Is everything ok?” Spencer asks as he sees his best friend frozen on the spot. JJ looks up to him, spotting concern in his eyes. “Yeah, no. I don’t know? It’s just, (Y/N) has an important soccer game tonight with scouts coming and such and I’m not sure if I can get there in time because of the case. She sounded really sad when I told her that. You know, I’m incredibly proud of her for getting this far and she plays really well. Scratch that, she is amazing. Especially knowing (Y/N) is responsible enough to think about college in her junior year makes me swell with pride”, she gushes unknowingly.

Spencer smiles. “I see, she is just like her mother. I’m sure (Y/N) will come around, she loves you so much and knows how difficult our job is.” JJ nods, trying to believe him.

Not long after that the duo enters the secretary’s office, explaining the situation. He immediately notifies the teenager’s teacher and a few minutes later (Y/N) opens the door. “There is an empty classroom we can use, I already asked Mr Boyle. He is such a sweetheart”, she tells her mother and uncle.

“Thank you for consenting to answer our questions. (Y/N), do you know the girls?” Spencer begins after settling down. “I do. One of them, Amy, is on the soccer team with me. We mostly talk about her family. She is in love with her little sister. The other two, Rosa and Gina, are in Freshmen. I tutored Gina briefly until her mother said she doesn’t need it.”

Unfortunately (Y/N) isn’t able to tell more useful information. “Thank you so much, Honey. Have fun at your practice later”, JJ tells her while embracing the teenager. “Yeah, thanks. Do you come home tonight?” Her mother sighs.

“I get it, you don’t know. Ok, I don’t wanna interfere any longer. Maybe you are able to solve the case faster. Stay safe. Love you!” Quickly she picks her bag up and leaves the room.

JJ looks at the genius with a face that says “Do you know what I mean?”

“My lovelies, all three girls don’t have the best connection to their parents. They often complain about the missing approval. Do you think that it’s a kid from their classes?” Garcia informs them as the team gathers back around the round table.

Rossi shakes his head. “The crimes are too organized for a kid. Every girl was drugged, but we don’t know how. Then the UnSub waits for the drug to kick in and takes her to a vacant spot, where the beating occurs. And all of this happens right after classes end. It has to be a staff member, probably a teacher.”

“Yeah, but there is one detail that doesn’t sit right with me”, Derek pipes up, “The connection between the girls is the bad relationship with their parents. It has to be someone, who is reminded by their own dysfunctional family.”

“Garcia, look for someone from the area, his comfort zone shows that he knows remote areas that you don’t find by accident. He has to be from D.C.” Spencer instructs her.

“Okidoki, boy won- Wait, are we looking for a male?” Hotch nods. “We are, the amount of strength used to beat up the girls suggests a male, same with the amount of hatred.”

Emily looks unsure. “This sounds all right, but why is he choosing the girls? What does he relive by hurting them? How does it help him?”

JJ wants to partake in the mindstorming, but a ping from her phone distracts her from saying her thoughts out loud. It’s a text message from (Y/N)

If you find the time in your busy schedule to read this, be informed that Will and Henry won’t come to the game tonight, because Henry has a spontaneous playdate. Don’t worry, he brought me my inhaler to school already.

(Y/N) sighs after sending the text. Is it really too much work for her mother to make room for her? This is probably the most important event in her whole school carriere and she decides that a team of masterminds need her more than her own daughter.

Hurt by the clear ignorance she shoulders her bag and makes her way to the counselor’s office.

“Come in”, a warm voice invites the teenager after her knocking on the door. “Hey, Mr Pembroke. Uhm, I have a class before soccer practice and I wanted to ask you if I can put my bag here? I know I got a locker, but I still got my mom’s birthday present in there and I’m scared I’ll leave it in my classroom and have to run back to get the bag if not another kid already took it away.”

Mr Pembroke looks at her with a smile. “Of course, (Y/N), I don’t mind. Speaking of your mother, will she be there tonight? I really hope so, because you are a star on the field. She’s missing out otherwise.” At the end he winks. He is just that kind of guy. Working with kids makes him desperate for appearing younger than he really is, but that is also part of Keith Pembroke’s charm.

“Unfortunately my whole family isn’t able to come. It is like- I mean I get it, serial killers are dangerous and it’s important and the right thing to chase them down. But do I not deserve some time with my mother?” Mr Pembroke evolved into a moral support over the past school year since he started his job at (Y/N)’s high school.

He always has something noice and wise to say. “You do. Everybody deserves some time with their family and especially with their parents. Why don’t you talk to them after all this is over? I can help you work on what you can say.”

Happily the teenager takes the offer and rushes to her class.

“Guys, I might be onto something”, Spencer rips everybody from their train of thoughts. JJ looks at the watch on her wrist. (Y/N)’s game ends in about five minutes. And she sits here, stumped one the case she stood her up for.

“So we thought about how he chooses his victims. The only connection we found was them having a bad relationship with their parents. But how would the UnSub know? They didn’t share any classes.

“But there always is one person, who knows about the student’s problems. They tell them voluntarily”, he finishes, giving his colleagues the opportunity to answer it themselves.

“The counselor!” Rossi exclaims, wondering how they oversaw the obvious.

Penelope’s keyboard is practically on fire from her fast typing until she nearly shouts: “I got him! Keith Pem-” The rest goes under in the loud ring from JJ’s cellphone. “I’m sorry, but this is… (Y/N)’s school! I-” Hotch nods, giving her permission to take that call.

“Jennifer Jareau?” She can’t wait until she is out of the conference room. Now that they know who the UnSub is, JJ is more on edge than ever. “Uhm, Mrs Jareau, I call about your daughter, (Y/N). She is on her way to the hospital, she collapsed during the soccer game. We suspect an asthma attack, even though she used her inhaler.” The teacher on the phone gives her a few more information before hanging up.

“I-I’m - (Y/N), she is- hospital. Her inhaler.” In that moment she makes all the connections. “Garcia, look for the girl’s medical history. Pembroke exchanged (Y/N)’s inhaler, I’m sure he did. Look for it in the other girls. I have to go, she is at the hospital right now.”

In a way even Derek Morgan would describe it as reckless JJ speeds to the hospital, ready to fight any regulations keeping her from seeing her daughter sooner. “I’m here for (Y/N) Jareau. J-A-R-E-” She tells the woman at the reception breathlessly.

“Oh I got her. She is in room 99. (Y/N) was unconscious for a certain amount of time, but she is slowly regaining her senses. A doctor will meet you there.” Before she even finishes her sentence, the blonde leaves the desk into the direction of the appointed room.

In fact there is a doctor waiting for her, updating the mother on her daughter’s condition. “I advise you to not overwhelm her. Her mind is still foggy and there may be things that don’t make sense right now coming from her. But (Y/N) will make a quick recovery, being good as new in only a matter of days.”

Cautiously she enters the room. The teenager might be awake, but her mind clearly is elsewhere. “Hey, Honey. It’s me, your mom. How are you feeling?” JJ asks softly, taking her daughter’s cold hand into her own gently.

“Oh, hi Mom. I didn’t know you found the time to actually come here. Isn’t there like a bad guy out there waiting for you to slap some handcuffs on him?” Ouch, she doesn’t expect that kind of honesty. But it’s true and JJ knows what (Y/N) is talking about.

She sighs. “I’m sorry, Honey, for being seemingly absent from your life. I swear, you can’t imagine how proud I am of you. I mean, you play soccer and there might be a scholarship in sigh. And even if you don’t get one, you can do anything and I would still be proud to call you my child.”

(Y/N) turns her head around, looking deeply into her mother’s eyes. The blonde can see all the pain she brought onto her bundle of joy. “Mom, I don’t even enjoy soccer as much as you think. I only do this, because I thought there would be finally something we can bond over. But I clearly didn’t calculate your stupid job in.”

JJ kicks herself for overseeing her daughter this much. She never stopped to acknowledge her oldest child’s accomplishments in front of her team and family. She always told everybody in the BAU what (Y/N) is up to, if they asked or not is not her problem. But in the whole process the agent forgot the most important person, the one who reached all those goals.

“Oh Honey, I’m so sorry for letting you feel like I don’t want to partake in your life. I- I was just so invested in your life that I didn’t think about you. You don’t have to do anything that I like to get my attention. You can join the school band playing the triangle and I would practically make t-shirts for the whole team sporting your logo.

“Anything you do is enough for me. You don’t need to change yourself to appeal to others, not even me. I’m sorry for letting you down. I love you so much and I hope you can forgive me.”

It seems like (Y/N) needs a few seconds to comprehend her mother’s statements before answering them. “I just need a mom, who is there more often. That would be enough for me. Just once every three games is enough. To let my friends know you care. To let me know you care.” JJ gets tears in her eyes. She promises to be there more often, fully intending to keep that promise.

“Good, now that we have that sorted out I need you to come into bed with me. I feel I could sleep for at least a year because of Mr Pembroke’s really weird tasting substance in my inhaler. Can we just cuddle until I feel like I’m my old self?” JJ smiles while happily laying down next to her daughter, engulfing her in a hug, still being cautious of all the tubes she has going in and out of her.

“I love you so much, Honey Bun”, the blonde murmurs, stroking a few strands out of her daughter’s face. But (Y/N) is too tired to answer. She just nods and cuddles closer to her mother before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, JJ watches over her like a hawk. Not even Will is allowed to come closer to her than two meters (or roughly six and a half feet for Americans), not wanting anyone to disturb her daughter’s peaceful sleep.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[thefanficmonster]

Bouquet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?

Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.

So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer. 

If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!

But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.

“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.

I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”

“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.

I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”

“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“

And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.

“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“

I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.

“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.

“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair. 

I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“

“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“

Phew, God bless you Rae.

“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.

At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.

Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?

As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week.  I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.

It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.

“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“

“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.

“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“

He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard  for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.

“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.

I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.

Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....

Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM

                                                               ~ ~ ~

I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.

Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-

My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.

“Thank you, Romeo ;)“

Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.

Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.

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[stopeatingwhales]

the 1995 brits x damon albarn & liam gallagher

hhhiiii I'm here with a very cute little fic about the brits!! the idea of writing something with Damon and liam fighting over someone was requested quite a long time ago (sorry it’s taken so long omg) but I loved the idea!! I do hope you all enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it a lot hahah xx

Pairing: 90s damon albarn & 90s liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: nothing, just a little bit of bickering n dat

Word count: 3.057

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Being a part of the madness that adapted the name ‘Britpop’ was truly an experience. Paparazzi at every corner you turn, equipped with the brightest, flashiest cameras, also having the most annoying click noises to the point that after one image you’ve earned yourself a migraine that would last the entirety of the day; parties that would last entire nights, bearing millions of different kinds of drugs - some that hadn’t even been given a name yet, but you’d still give a try anyways, since you’re so high and drunk that you simply lose the intellectual capability to construct decisions, you say fuck it, and get so high to the point that you’ve blacked out in a booth in a bar, with the owner asking you to get out since you’ve been inside for one too many hours after closing time; as well as constant press coverage. With your name plastered over literally every newspaper and music magazine known to man, as well as having your entire life consistently dictated for the entire nation to read about every Sunday morning and indulge themselves into as a form of entertainment, it was what being famous delivered, right on your doorstep at 7 in the morning. Any earlier and you’d feel rude not to give them a cup of tea as a form of dignity and respect towards their sublime dedication to the job. Although it was fun being associated with it all, my band in particular gaining a different form of calidity due to it being a female fronted band, by the time that the entire nation was hooked on this ‘Blur vs. Oasis’ rivalry, it was as if every other britpop band had been washed away from existence, due to eight boys arguing as to whom had the better music. And the better looks, according to Liam Gallagher.

Tonight was the night of the Brit awards, perhaps the most prestigious awards ceremony for music. To be awarded a Brit was probably the largest achievement possible in British music in the form of an award, and it was definitely either going tonight to either Blur or Oasis. The chances that another band, say Pulp, were to get the award, would not only be extremely amusing to see the reactions of the two biggest names in the Britpop game, but would also cause the largest uproar in the nation. It’s either Blur or Oasis. “Their drama is so silly,” laughed Emily, the guitarist in our band whilst flicking through the latest edition of the Sun, the cover of the newspaper being, of course, Liam Gallagher. “They’re literally bickering about who looks the best. How do people find this interesting?”

“Because of how silly it is, people never leave their secondary-school-like selves. Just a bit of fun I guess.” I replied, fixing up my hair in the mirror in front of me. We were currently getting ready to go to the award show, and needing to look your best was an expectation. Though I wasn’t dressed in anything that would result in jaw’s dropping, it was important that I at least appeared somewhat admirable - the entire nation always had their eyes on us, but tonight they were going to see us all, live. Perhaps the reason why bands like Oasis and Blur are so obsessed over nowadays, since all they’ll do is turn up in some flimsy Adidas t-shirt and call that fashion. I suppose scruffy was the new elegant.

“Who do you think they’ll give the award to?” she questioned, still aimlessly flicking through the recycled pages of the magazine. “I think Oasis. Their music is so much better than Blurs.”

“Really? I’d say Blur. They won on top of the pops, so the likelihood of them winning the Brit award is highly likely,” I answered, shuffling away from the strong reflection of myself towards Emily, my eyes quickly scanning the page that she had her eye on currently. “Gosh Liam’s so full of himself.”

“He’s got his eye on you, you know,” She said, shoving the paragraph she had just read in my face of Liam boasting about his little crush he had supposedly gained from watching our latest performance on top of the pops. “Thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

Scoffing in response, I mumbled back to Emily. “If he thinks that he’s sleeping with me, he’s very deluded.”

By the time we had arrived at the venue, you weren’t able to walk into the entrance without at least 50 cameras blinding your eyes and the shouts of so many begging for you to quickly turn your head and grin - the price for the photo would reach the many thousands. Once walking in, it was less crowded, only having select people by the ground floor, dedicated for musicians and bands, with the occasional interviewer walking past to every circled table, adorned with white cloth and champagne glasses, asking questions about how they’re feeling, who they think may win, and what they thought of the music throughout the past year. What was nice was that people didn’t have that much interaction with one another, just with their groups. It created a sense of formality in the space, which made me feel a bit at ease from the idea of some random row happening in the middle of the floor, most likely between Liam and Damon. The past year in music was truly something. Britpop was at its peak the entirety of the year, with songs like Parklife and Supersonic pouring out of every radio station in Britain that by the end of the year, you had ditched casual radio music and began blasting the classical station. It was a nightmare. Since the fall of grunge subsequent to Cobain’s death the previous year, the talk of any other genre in Britain apart from Britpop didn’t occur. It was as if we were living on this mystical island, miles away from any other music and culture, whilst adorning and obsessing over our own. What was nice about Britpop was that it was a pure celebration of English culture, whether it be a simple Sunday roast, or going to school, they all carried the same ambience of nostalgia and pride - also disregarding whichever band wrote what song.

“Free champagne… Yes please,” said Madeline, the secondary guitarist of the band, whilst heading to the first seat she could sit on, then quickly indulging herself with the first taste of the rich drink. “Oh my gosh it’s heavenly!”

Laughing at her reaction, the rest of the band took a seat around the table and took their first sips of the champagne, which we would all come to find to be indeed heavenly. Small talk was shared here and there with the rest of the group, but overall I stayed silent. In all honesty I found attending award shows was quite boring because if you didn’t end up getting an award, you would essentially be sitting there for two hours doing nothing. Even if you did win an award, it’s simply a minute of glory with the speakers blasting your music, and another minute of all eyes piercing into your soul as you make sentences about your gratitude towards those who had helped you along the way to earn such an achievement. I doubt anybody genuinely liked attending shows like these.

“The champagne is good, yet we don’t get enough for our table,” I complained, grasping my now empty champagne glass and waving it around in the air. “I’m gonna head to the bar to get a refill, anybody want anything?”

After receiving a handful of nos from the rest of the band, I took myself out of my seat and wandered over to the bar, which was empty, perhaps due to the venue not yet being completely filled with all the artists that were set to attend the night. “Just a refill of the champagne, please.” I asked politely, handing the bartender the used glass I had kept in my hand. Whilst waiting, I noticed that Damon was on the other side of the bar, who also didn’t notice me there, until he caught eyes with me.

A grin broke out on his face as I walked over to him. “You alright?” He asked me, quickly thanking the bartender for his drink and turning back to look at me. The height difference between us was evident, but it wasn’t the case of something so dramatic that he was the height of the empire state building and me, just a measly common tower in the city. He looked quite content, his hair scruffy yet neat, along with his outfit being just as I had assumed: a white shirt with jeans, a used pair of Adidas for shoes.

I smiled back at him and nodded. “Suppose you have high hopes for the award tonight.” I said, simultaneously receiving my refill of the beverage I had ordered, followed by my thanks. We stood adjacent, although there was enough distance between us to establish our relationship - mutual acquaintances whom had met every now and again, since they’ve both been dragged into this wormhole of madness. He was quite the opposite in comparison to his rivals, though he himself could be quite bothersome occasionally, he still had a grasp to what those may call sensibility.

“Oh well we’re better than them, aren’t we love?'' He chirped, his head now cocked to the side in a teasing manner. “I’ve heard that you’re rooting for us this year.” He added, a little smirk pasted on his face.

“Do you read every paper you see?” I questioned, my face turning away from him in slight embarrassment. Between us, there was no shared intention for a relationship to stem, though there was definitely a flirtatious tension that followed between us wherever we had met. Whether it be a random photoshoot for a magazine double-spread, or backstage at top of the pops, we always managed to share a chat with one another, and nothing else followed on from then. It was quite sad, because once you’ve established a connection between something you either both disagree or agree with in terms of societal views, something in the press, or life in general, you’re instantaneously cut off and asked to hop onto stage to record a meaningless three-minute performance with fake, plastic instruments which practically mean nothing.

“Well it was nice seeing someone else's face on the papers for once.” He replied, downing his drink, then ushering at the bartender for another. A thing that we both realised was that, between our conversations, we indirectly indicated that we were both there for each other, because we both had a complete understanding towards what may be happening to the other person. It was stressful being in the limelight constantly, and for someone who was the frontman of a band so large, with his face plastered on every magazine cover imaginable, things were bound to be stressful.

Sighing, I turned to face him again. Despite the fact that before I had the ability to respond, our conversation was cut short from a voice shouting my name from behind. “Well if it isn’t bloody Y/N.” the voice said, and from then I instantly knew it was Liam’s. Turning my face away from Damon’s, I locked eyes with Liam. As always, he was dressed in the usual: a parka, with casual jeans. Oh, and don’t forget the Adidas shoes. Even though he and Damon practically hated each other’s guts, they always seemed to have similar fashion senses, but I could never picture Damon in a parka. And I don’t think I even want to.

“How’ve you been love?” He asked, swinging his arm around my shoulder in a warm, but nonchalant manner. Me and Liam had a similar relationship to that of mine and Damons, simply just minusing the sentimentality of it. We were friends, and had come across each other at random parties, which opened the gateway for us to drink and get high together many a time. While he was quite the idiot, he was also a very fun guy to be around, but I knew Damon would never understand that. “And why’re you letting this twat chat to you?”

A laugh escaped Damon’s throat. “I think you’re the only twat here, Liam,” he began, a sigh leaving my mouth as I was trapped in a situation that I could only pray didn’t gain much traction from the rest of the attendees. “Me and Y/N are friends, don’t suppose we’re getting jealous are we?”

Liam’s grip on my shoulder tightened as I stared at his reaction to Damon. I felt quite small in this situation, due to me needing to tilt my head a good amount to properly look at Liam, and knowing if I left it would just erupt chaos and make it worse. “No need for me to be jealous when I know that she wouldn’t want to spend a minute with you in bed you bastard.”

“And you’re so sure about that are you?” Damon replied, amusement laced in his words. “Because you’ve totally spent a minute with her haven’t you?”

“Well I’ve got my arm around her haven’t I? And she’s not stopping me,” Liam argued back, a smirk entwined on his lips. Reaching for my hand, Liam grasped it lightly, then then brought it to his lips, kissing it, before holding it gently. Method of intimidation, perhaps, and though it was sweet, there was a time and place. And this was definitely neither the time, or place. “Who’s the jealous one now, eh?”

“The last I recall, she had hoped that we were winning this year, not you,” He boasted, moving the contents of his drink around whilst grasping it firmly. Whilst it would be something that would offend Liam, he was simply the type of person to not take criticism regardless of whomever it was coming from. I respected him for that. “So much so for a healthy relationship.” Damon mocked, staring into my eyes as a small laugh escaped my lips.

Granted that I had found the argument shared between the pair of them to be extremely silly, it was good entertainment as the time passed before the award show would begin. Watching them both, attempting to throw insults at one another, each one trying to cut a little deeper than the one previous, made me almost laugh at the both of them right there. “You know, it’s so silly that you both think you know me so well to think which one I’d pick from the both of you,” I said, detaching myself from Liam’s embrace and snatching my half-empty glass of champagne. “At this point, it’s neither of you.”

Walking back to my band’s designated table, I quietly took my seat as the show began. “Saw you chatting to Damon,” Emily whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Also saw you grinning like a madwoman.”

“Oh shut up you,” I replied, looking back at the bar to notice that both parties had left, assuming back to their places. “There’s nothing going on between me and Damon- Liam too in fact.”

~~~

As the ceremony went on, the boredom got to us. Even the amount of drinks I had didn’t entertain me, but what could we do, we were stuck in the middle of an award show celebrating music, even though I had largely doubted that the majority of those attending were enjoying themselves. I had no clue who the awards were going to be handed out to, and whether that somebody may be us in a category, but we all knew Blur were going to win something. Yes, Oasis had gained a lot of fame and had become one of the most famous bands in the music scene at the minute, but by the way things had gone for Blur after the release of Parklife, things only seemed to go further up from there. And that was only proven to be truthful, after Blur had left with four different awards.

After Blur had received their fourth award for best British group, we all knew that there was nothing left for Oasis. “They’ll get it all next year, they only debuted this year you know.” I said to the table, who were staring at the four smiley boys on stage as they trotted up to receive their award. I admired Damon as he said his speech, then also turning to look over at Liam, who looked quite evidently pissed off. He was practically drooling in anger from the sight brought to him at that particular moment, and I couldn’t blame him - their band hadn't gone home with one award that night, but neither had ours. “They’ve taken four awards home, isn’t that like, the most anybody has ever taken?”

“Indeed it is,” Madeline replied, taking a sip from her drink. “Must be a good year for them then, eh?”

As I watched the band leave the stage in absolute glee, I stared at Damon as he walked back to his designated seat for the short remainder of the evening. Despite the fact that my band had been sat in our seats the entire evening in complete boredom, just like Oasis and so many other acts that had been nominated for pointless awards, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t proud of how far Blur as a whole had come and evolved through their music, and especially Damon. From beginning as young, bowl-cut boys only charting so far on top of the pops, to creating songs and melodies that could unite our entire nation, it was impressive.

Damon was the face of Britain at this very moment, and a very good looking one. Once I watched him sit down, he scanned the room for a while until he was able to find where I was sitting, which was parallel to his seat, merely a couple metres away. He connected eyes with me as soon as he found me, also accompanied with a small smirk painted on his expression as he raised his eyebrows and sent me a wink. I simply smiled back at him in response before turning away abruptly, disrupting the little moment we seemingly shared, and though I felt my heart flutter a little, he’s definitely not winning me that easily.

[221bshrlocked]

A Sky Full of Stars

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 11340 (I know I say this all the time but this really was supposed to be a short one-shot but it got away from me because I just loved this idea so so much. Sorry not sorry.)

Warning: Nothing but fluff. Some kissing that turns into a heated make-out session that turns into a cuddling session.

Inspired by this tiktok by the lovely ameliagonzales who was gracious enough to allow me to use her idea and write this.

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote something that's fluffy slightly angsty and dialogue-centered. I'm not going to lie, this took longer than usual because of the lovely anon that decided to tell me my characterization of Din is hella off and I realized I don't care if it is because it's my writing and I get to do whatever I want with it. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments and reblogs are always always appreciated. You can add yourself to the taglist here. This is not beta'd btw.

“No silly this isn’t green, it’s blue.” The little girl put her toy away and brought out a new one, giggling at your faux pout as she shoves the new object in your hand and asks you what color you thought it was. You turn it around in your hands, trying your hardest to hide the hurt growing in your chest at not knowing what color it is. You think it’s closer to the first toy she gave you but you’re not sure. You’re never sure. You look at the girl and smile at her before setting the toy aside and wiggling your hands at her. She immediately stands up and screams as you run after her, laughing along with her giggles as you chase her around and watch as more kids join in and run away from you.

You’re not sure how long you’re chasing the little ones and you hear some of them gasp and ‘oooh’ when your young friend runs into a solid figure. You stand up and watch as the girl tears up as she apologizes to the man she just ran into. You’re immediately hugging her and assuring her that everything is okay, turning to the side and narrowing your eyes at the man that scared her half to death.

“Shame on you Mando,” you pretend to smack his shoulder three times and watch as the child in your arms sniffles between laughs when the Mandalorian tries to hide away from you.

“I’m sorry little flower, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You watch as the man reaches for a small bottle in his pocket and slowly hands it to the girl. “Here you go, a token of my apology.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, he’s a nice man...even though he doesn’t look it.” You wink at Boba Fett and giggle along with her when he sighs heavily and pushes the flask into her hand. She takes it and shakes it around, her eyes lighting up when the bottle shimmers at her ministrations and illuminates her hands.

“It’s so pretty! How did you know orange is my favorite color?” The girl slides down your arms and quickly hugs the hunter in front of you before running away and showing her friends. You look at her with longing in your eyes, wishing with all your heart that you saw the gift the same way she saw it.

“Still no color princess?” Fett questions and you shrug your shoulders as you make your way towards Slave I and sit on the ramp.

“Yup, same old same old. Who knows if I’ll ever see color.” There is a hint of hurt in your tone but Fett says nothing as he approaches you and stands to the side. He pats your shoulder once as he takes his helmet off and softly wipes at the visor to clean it.

“Don’t give up, kid. You’re still young...you’ve got all the time in the galaxy and you travel everywhere. You’ll meet them when you least expect it.”

“In this line of work? Yeah, I don’t think so Fett. But at least one of us didn’t lose the positive attitude. If I’m being honest, I was hoping to see color before the next supply run. The chances that I’ll live to go to Pasaana during another Festival of the Ancestors are practically non-existent. I heard they wear so many variations of the same color...maker, it would have been nice to experience that.” You pick up a rock and throw it away as you nervously ring your fingers and brush the conversation aside, not wanting to start the journey with a sour mood.

“Well, lucky for us, we have extra help on this run so it should be quicker. Maybe you’ll see color before you go?” Fett looks up and you follow his line of sight as another ship slowly lands just behind Slave I. You stand up and walk behind your old friend, looking back at the crates to ensure they’re still there before you approach the landing ship.

“Oh no, what poor soul did you manage to rope in this time?” You eye the ship and swear there is something familiar about it but you pay it no mind as Fett puts his helmet back on.

“Hey, I don’t always bend people to my will you know. He volunteered actually...he knows his way around the Narvath Sector and he might even tag along with us to the Forbidden Valley. So, be nice and don’t flirt with him.” Fett warns and you throw your hands up in defeat, failing to hide your smile as you respond with feigned offense.

“I’m not going to flirt with him.” You raise an eyebrow when Fett snorts at your high-pitched voice as he makes his way to the landing ship, and mutters something beneath his breath. The ship powers down after a couple of moments and you take a deep breath when the doors to the docking ramp slide and a figure appears at the corner.

“There he is...took you longer to land this time.” Fett yells to the other Mandalorian, not noticing how you take a few steps back as the man walks down towards the two of you.

“Oh well things just got a little more interesting now.” You break the silence and cringe when the Mandalorian struts past your friend and takes out his blaster. You hold your hands up when he points the weapon at your head and you watch as Fett strides to the two of you and stands in between your body and his brother’s weapon.

“You?” The Mandalorian growls and he tries to step aside and Fett holds his chest and pushes him back.

“Me!” You smile nervously and gulp when Fett turns around and looks at you. You swear you can almost see the look he’s giving you but you say nothing and hope that he can handle this situation for you.

“Oh.” You would have laughed at Fett’s response if there wasn’t a bounty hunter standing not five feet away from you and killing you a thousand different ways.

“You two know each other?” Fett breaks the silence and continues to stand between the two of you, knowing his friend’s short temper and your dumb comments might escalate this situation.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other. I’d say we met very briefly on-” You try to explain what happened the last time you saw the Mandalorian but he cuts you off. He pushes his blaster into its holster and you sigh heavily but keep your hands raised, afraid he'll change his mind any second and try to shoot you again.

“You almost blew up my ship!” The Mandalorian yells and you jump at his exclamation. His irritation seeps into your skin and you narrow your eyes at him as you walk around Fett and begin to nudge at the beskar armor with one finger. Your anger at his unfairness outgrows your fear of what he can do to you and you continue to push on his chest plate as you talk back at him and ignore Fett’s whispers to let it go.

“I did no such thing. I merely tried to fix your shitty cooling radiator panels but you scared the fuck out of me when you came up behind me and suggested I switch the parts, hence why I dropped the cauterizer and burned through the wires. So technically, you almost blew up your ship.” You’re breathing heavily and you’re sure your nose is flaring from how annoyed you are by the man in front of you. A few seconds pass between the two of you and it’s not until the Mandalorian tilts his head that you realize what you’ve just said and done. You take your hands away and swallow the growing lump in your throat as you step back and apologize a few times before you walk to the crates.

The Mandalorian stands there in silence, never once looking away from you retreating form, even when Boba Fett comes and stands him.

He’s missed this, and more than he preferred to admit.

“Little princess is fiery today.” Fett comments and notices when his friend turns and stares at him through the visor. The Mandalorian says nothing as he walks away from Fett and follows you. You’re in the middle of counting the supplies in the crates when you hear the crunching of footsteps approaching you. Thinking it’s Fett that’s come to help you move the supplies, you roll up your sleeves and ask him to take the opposite side.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at your brother. I was just annoyed because I was only trying to help and he scared me.” When you look up and see that it was the Mandalorian and not your friend, you drop the crate and stare at him. He says nothing as he picks up his end of the large box and waits for you to mirror his actions before he begins to walk back to his ship. Neither of you say anything as you go back and forth until all the crates are on his ship. You walk out and stand next to Fett, waiting for his instructions to see whether you were going to go with him or with the new member of the crew.

“So what’s the plan?” You avoid the Mandalorian standing next to you and turn your body towards Fett, hoping that he’d say that you were tagging along with him.

“You’re going to go with him.” You cease to breathe at his command and clench your fists when you recognize his tone. He’s not leaving room for negotiation.

“W-why?” The Mandalorian walks back to his ship at your question and you pout when you realize that he may have misunderstood your inquiry. Not that it mattered whether or not he misunderstood...

“Fennec...we’ll meet you at Iktotchon.” You look to the ground and shuffle your feet against the sand, turning back to him and nodding quietly as you follow behind the Mandalorian.

“And princess!” Fett calls for you and you glance at him when you reach the top of the ramp.

“Hmm?”

“Try not to get into too much trouble.” You look at him with annoyance and shake your head when you realize he’s just teasing you. Standing at the large doors of the ship, you glimpse one last time at Mos Eisley before you make your way into the heart of the ship. A few moments later, the ship powers up and you watch as the barrier raises and locks just as light filters through the area. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do or where you’re allowed to go so you remain standing where you are. Not a minute later, you jump when a voice breaks the silence and booms through the ship.

“Come up to the cockpit.”

You take a deep, calming breath as you set your things to the side and ascend the ladder to the cockpit. You come face to face with a door and you’re about to knock when it slides open and reveals the Mandalorian sitting in the pilot chair.

“Sit down and buckle up.” He says as he flicks on buttons across the board. He turns his head towards you to make sure that you’re buckled in before he raises the throttle levers and begins to take off. You hold back from saying something snarky as the turbulence gets worse, only shutting your eyes when it gets to be too much. You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there with your hands clasping the leather of the chair but it’s only when you hear the seat in front of you turning that you realize you were already in space.

You frown when you open your eyes and see the Mandalorian already looking at you, the tilt of his helmet letting you know that he was silently mocking you.

“What?” You break the silence and watch as he rights himself before he turns around and pushes the auto-pilot button.

“You’re a supply dealer who hates flying.” It’s more of a question than a comment and you can’t help but narrow your eyes when he stands up and continues to stare at you.

“So?”

“Not a good quality of life.” If you’re surprised by his response, you try not to show it as you stand up and face him defensively like before.

“Says the man who wears beskar armor every minute of the day.” It’s a low blow and you know you have no right involving his religion. But you’re fed up with his passive aggressiveness and you want to make sure he knows that he can’t talk down to you.

The Mandalorian turns away and looks at the passing stars of the galaxy, softly whispering for you to follow him as he exits the cockpit. You want to apologize for what you said but you hold back instead, following him down the ladder and standing to the side when you see him moving things around.

“This is my cot, and that right there is yours.” He points to two doors across from each other at the end of the hallway and waits for your confirmation before he walks past them and shows you the refresher.

“Help yourself to any of the rations. We’ll arrive at Iktotchon in four sleeping cycles so there should be enough food for the two of us until we get there.” You’re not sure what makes you reach for his wrist when he turns around to walk away. He stands still and looks down at the hand grasping his beskar before he looks at you.

“S-sorry...I- umm, are you coming to Pasaana?” You ring your fingers nervously as you look at yourself in his visor, taking two steps back when he straightens up and looks down at your hands.

“You’re going to the Festival of the Ancestors.”

“Yes. Well, it’s me, Mando, and Fennec. So I was just wondering, you know, if there was...if you had anything lined up after this supply run. Because if not, you can tag along...it only happens every-”

“42 years. I know.” He cuts you off and you’re not sure if his body-language seems more open or not but within a few seconds of chatting with him, he’s suddenly relaxing and leaning back against the metal wall. He’s silent for longer than you prefer so you force a smile and rub the back of your neck awkwardly as you prepare to tell him to forget that you asked since he probably has more important matters to handle.

“Ok.” It’s a simple response yet you feel your skin heat up as he nods at you and walks to his quarters. He hesitates at the door for a moment before he pushes the button and steps into the privacy of his room.

You let out a deep breath and stand in your spot for a few minutes before you slip back to the docking space to bring your belongings to the room. The ship is surprisingly more quiet than others you’ve been on and you remember what he told you about it the last time you saw him. A faint memory of how he defended the size of his ship makes you giggle. Then again, you’ve heard from Peli about the piece of junk he had before this and knew that it was barely considered as machinery.

“Maker, how am I going to make it four days on this ship with him?” You shake your head as you prepare to go to bed. The twin suns were just setting on Tatooine when you were leaving and you knew it was better to get as much sleep in as possible considering how quickly things sometimes escalated on these kinds of runs.

Surprisingly, things weren’t too bad when you left your sleeping cot the following day. The Mandalorian was already awake and cleaning his weapons. You bid him a quick good morning as you moved past him and looked for some snacks. He didn’t seem like he wanted to converse with you so you opted to stay in your room for the remainder of your waking hours. A voice in your head told you to keep the door open in case he did want to chat eventually but as you thought, he never once disturbed you.

The second day on the ship was perhaps slightly more eventful. Although he continued to pass his time in silence, he did manage to ask you to help him fix something in the cockpit. You were shocked he requested your services with ease and said nothing as he stood aside and watched you tinker away with the radar display screen. He thanked you twice when you finished and told you that he’d let you know if he needed your help with anything else.

The third day, however, made you wish you could open the docking doors and throw yourself out in space. You hadn’t seen him all morning long and you thought it was probably because he wanted some privacy in the cockpit. By the middle of the day, you jumped out of your cot and grabbed some spare clothes as you headed to the refresher, wanting to shower once before you landed on the sand-filled planet the following. As you walked to the door and pushed the button, you were met with a heavy fog escaping the room. When the fog cleared, you dropped your clothes and slammed your hands on your eyes, immediately backing away from the room as the Mandalorian scrambled to wrap something around his waist. You weren’t sure how many times you apologized in the span of one minute but when you heard the familiar sound of a blaster turning on, you stood in silence and waited for him to say something.

“Pfassk, do you have no kriffing regard for privacy?” He growled through the vocoder and you shook your head to try and explain to him that you saw nothing but his back.

“I- maker, I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I didn’t see anything except your back. I didn’t know you were in there...I really didn’t or else I wouldn't have gone in.” You sigh in relief when you hear him murmur to himself as he sets down the blaster and shuffles around in search of his clothes.

“What do you mean you didn’t know I was in there? The red light was on, which usually means someone is in the fucking refresher using it.” Hearing him swear shouldn’t make you shiver and yet you do. When you notice that he’s gone still, you assume it’s safe to look at him again. Taking a deep breath, you turn around and lower your hands as you muster up the courage to try and explain to him why you couldn’t see the red light.

And boy was that a mistake. You regret removing your hands from your eyes as soon as you take a good look at him. Turns out, the beskar armor only made him look more intimidating. The man was large, made to be a hunter. He was broad-shouldered, muscular in all the right places and soft in others. You unintentionally frown when you see his bronze skin littered with scars of all shapes and sizes. Maker, the life he led was worse than you thought.

“I- uhh, I don’t...I couldn’t see it.” You hated how much your voice broke when you tried to explain yourself. As much as you wanted to blame it on being afraid of him, you knew it was less about the danger he exuded and more about the fact that you could see more of his skin than you thought you ever would.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t know it was red.” You knew none of what you were saying was making sense but this wasn’t exactly a situation that you thought you’d find yourself having to deal with, and with the Mandalorian of all people.

“Are you fucking with me?” He was less hostile than earlier but his words were still spoken aggressively. You couldn’t blame him really, especially when you knew how strict his religion was.

“N-no. I- my species doesn’t see color until- well, it doesn’t matter. My species doesn’t see color. We just see grays. I’m sorry...I should have asked before if there was anything I needed to learn about the ship that required me seeing colors. It escaped me. I’ll try to pay more attention...I promise you I saw nothing.” You take one last glance at the heaving, glistening body in front of you before you turn around and walk in your room. You shut the door behind you this time, knowing that he probably wanted some of his privacy back and that he would need to limit himself should you keep it open.

It’s not until a few hours later that you sit up when you hear a soft knock on your door. You stand up and push open the barrier, finding the Mandalorian standing in front of you with his helmet looking straight at your reluctant expression. You wait for him to say something and when he doesn’t, you raise your eyebrows and silently ask him if he needs anything.

“I didn’t know about your...I didn’t know. And I didn’t mean to scare you with the blaster either, it’s a reflex to- umm.” You nod at him and look down to see what he’s holding in his hands. “You left your clothes lying on the floor.” He pushes the fabric towards you and averts his eyes when he sees your undergarments peaking through the shirt. You thank him as you set them down on your bag and look into his visor again.

“Ad'ika?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.” The whispered exclamation does little to calm your nerves and you’re not sure what to say to him so you nod and awkwardly smile into the shiny beskar helmet. The Mandalorian murmurs a quick ‘good night’ before he makes his way to the cockpit, leaving you as confused as ever.

You don’t get an ounce of sleep that night, the image of him in nothing but a helmet and some flimsy pants making you wish he had shot you with his blaster instead. You refuse to admit the rising emotions you’re beginning to feel towards him, mostly because it didn’t matter whether or not he reciprocated them.

You still couldn’t see color.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

You’re afraid to leave the room the next morning, not sure which version of the Mandalorian you were going to have to deal with. It turns out, there was nothing to worry about because not surprisingly, you got the quiet, slightly shy man chatting with you. He pretends nothing happened the previous day and you go along with it. You’re just about to enter the atmosphere of Iktotchon when you receive a hologram from Fett telling the two of you of the sandstorm passing through the meeting point.

As you buckle into the seat behind the Mandalorian, he takes a moment to turn around and call for you.

“There’s going to be turbulence.”

“I- I know.” You barely hold back from furrowing your eyebrows at his comment but then he turns around to face you completely and you narrow your eyes at him with suspicion.

“I’ve landed on worse planets.” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize what he’s attempting to do and you can’t help but laugh and break the moment. You quiet down when he turns around and begins to descend to the planet.

“Are you worried about little old me Mandalorian?” You try to distract yourself from the sudden, harsh shaking of the ship but the teasing does little to calm your nerves when you realize that the sandstorm was as bad as Fett made it sound. You shut your eyes and try to picture the calm nights you’re so used to on Tatooine.

“You know, you can just call me Mando.” His voice breaks you out of your haze and you growl in response when you hear a few sounds go off above you.

“No, I- I can’t call you that. I reserved it for the other guy already!”

“You mean the Mandalorian who already told you his name?” He claps back and chuckles when you sigh in irritation at his question.

“Fine okay you’re right. How about this? Can you land this fucking ship without killing the two of us Mando?” You’re screaming at the top of your lungs and grasp the belt around your torso harder when you don’t hear back from him.

“Mando?”

“You mean the ship I already landed ad’ika?” Your eyes shoot wide open and you look around frantically, only to see that most of the turbulence you experienced was due to the sand and gravel hitting the metal of the ship.

“Oh...that was- not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Anything beats Maldo Kreis.” Mando says as he stands there across from you and the slight tilt of his helmet at your confused expression makes you realize he may not have meant to say that out loud.

“We need to go. The storm will only get worse if we wait until night.” You nod in agreement and follow him out of the cockpit to the docking station. Mando instantly regrets lowering the docking ramp when he sees gravel quickly entering the ship. You run to your room to grab the helmet you brought with you and lock it in as you return to help him with the crates.

It’s a difficult few hours on the planet, and you grow more irritated when the Ikotchi threatens you with less supply exchanges. When his demeanor suddenly changes and he asks you to take the crates and leave, you thank him and quickly take the crates up the ramp with Fennec before he changes his mind. You never once notice both Mandalorians as they subtly push their blasters back into their holsters.

You’re leaving Iktotchon later than you prefer, mostly because both bounty hunters find themselves in a heated argument that Fennec has to end not-so-gently. You don’t bother asking Mando what the issue was when you see him strutting into the cockpit, quickly strapping yourself in when he glances at you to make sure you’re safe.

It’s a rough take off for both his ship and Slave I, but you say nothing of it, knowing that he might not appreciate any light teasing at the moment. Once you’re out of the planet’s atmosphere, Mando puts in the coordinates for Pasaana and sends a hologram to Fett, letting him know that you would be reaching the planet in less than a day.

You want to ask him if you could help in any way but you decide against it and leave him to his thoughts. You want nothing more than to take a long, hot shower to rid yourself of all the sand that managed to seep into your clothes. But then you notice the state of the docking area and before you can talk yourself out of it, you look around for anything that resembles a sweeper and clean as much of the floor as you can. You’re thankful that Mando doesn’t leave the cockpit and when you’re done, you go back into your room to grab a change of clothes so you could use the refresher.

You think you hear Mando passing by your room but you say nothing and make your way to the refresher, halting in your steps when you look at the light and find it turned off.

Great.

“Mando? Are you in there?” You’re not sure if he can hear you or not so you try to ask him again a little louder.

“Mando!? Are you i-”

“No.” You jump as soon as you hear him respond from behind you. Turning around, you clutch at your chest when you see him standing in front of his door without the beskar armor.

“I- uhh, t-there’s no light. And I wasn’t sure what that meant really.” You’re ringing your fingers again, and hope that he doesn’t notice just how nervous you are in his presence.

“Well I- I rewired the electrical circuits of the refresher so you know when it’s occupied and when it isn’t. If the light is on, it means I’m in there, and if it isn’t, then it’s free for use. No more colores.”

You look at him as if he took off his helmet, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he went out of his way to accommodate you when you’re only on his ship for another few days.

“Thank you,” is all you manage to say before you push the door and scramble in. Mando looks at the door for another few minutes before he remembers that he hasn’t eaten in a while. He cooks up a meal for two quickly and eats his share before you finish your shower. When he hears you walking out, he sits in his usual corner and brings out his weapons to polish them.

You smell food as soon as you walk out of the refresher and you throw your clothes on your cot before you make your way to the large space across the hallway. You’re about to ask Mando about the food situation when you see a plate opposite of him on the table.

“It’s yours.” Mando breaks the silence as he wipes in between the crevasses of his blaster, nodding towards the space in front of him to let you know that you could join him,

“Thank you Mando.”

Neither of you say anything as you inhale your dinner and it’s not until you’ve washed your plates and set them aside that Mando decides to break the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

“S-sure.” You think he’s going to ask you what it’s like to not see colors and to only see gradations of gray but his question catches you off guard.

“When can your species see color?” If you were uncomfortable by his question, you did a good job hiding it from him. Mando watches as you push off the wall and return to sit in front of him, lazily pushing around the towel he was holding as you answer him.

“This might sound stupid and I’m usually told that it’s not real but I’ve seen those of my kind experience the second they could see color so I know it’s not just a fable we’re told when we’re young. Basically, we see color when we meet our soulmates.” Mando’s heart breaks when you throw him a forced smile, one he’s seen a million times looking back at him in the mirror.

“Your soulmate?”

“Yup, the person I’m destined to be with. My other half. The one that will belong to me and I to him.” Mando nods along with you as he stands up and hangs up his weapons one by one.

“I know what you’re thinking. What’s someone like me going to do at the Festival of the Ancestors? Honestly, I think it’ll be fun to attend it whether or not I can see the colors. It’s a rich culture so I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way.”

“I can always walk around with you and describe to you the colors, t-the patterns even. If...if you want.” His suggestion throws you off guard and as earlier, you gape at him as you try to figure out what he was playing at. You think he’s pulling your leg and will laugh at you at any moment, but when he doesn’t, you realize that he’s being dead serious.

“That would be nice Mando. I might not see the colors but I could always imagine what they look like next to each other.”

And just like that, the conversation is over as quickly as it begins.

“Good night mesh’la.” Mando murmurs as he makes his way to his quarters, leaving you more hopeful than you’ve felt in a long while.

It’s a weird thing to admit but for the first time in years, you don’t go to sleep wishing you could wake up and see colors. No. You doze off wondering what it would feel like to hold his hand and maybe, just maybe, kiss it. You think of how soft his untouched skin must feel like and how calloused his scarred muscles would look.

When you dream that night, you see faint images of his lips caressing yours and his firm arms bringing you into his embrace.

And you wake up with a lazy smile etched on your face because those dreams, those sweet, lovely memories your brain conjured up during the night, felt as good as seeing color.

You can’t look at him for the duration of the morning, constantly pretending that you’re doing something or other so he doesn’t think you’re avoiding him because the last thing you wanted was to make him think you didn’t want to talk to him. But you just can’t find it in yourself to look into his visor. Every time you so much as glance at the beskar helmet, you remember what your subconscious conjured up and you stutter out a response to whatever he says.

Not surprisingly, Mando notices the shift in your behavior and he waits until you finish fixing the crates’ locks, which were clearly not broken, before he approaches you.

“Mesh’la.”

“Yes Mando?” You’re still not looking at him and Mando starts to genuinely believe that he’s done something wrong. When you try to walk past him to place the tool back in your room, Mando reaches out and takes hold of your wrist before you’re out of reach. You look at his gloved hand wrapped around your skin before you meet his eyes past his visor and Mando holds his breath because for a moment, he thinks you can see straight through him.

“You’re angry with me.”

You never realize until this moment that Mando tends to ask most of his questions in the form of a statement and it’s strange. It’s strange because it never occurred to you that he’s the type to perhaps jump to conclusions when he can’t read the situation. Setting the tool box down, you stand up and fix your shirt as you muster up the courage to respond to him.

“I’m not. I’m not angry with you. I’m- it’s...difficult to explain.” His hold loosens but he’s standing in your space and you think it’s because he’s not totally convinced by your answer and won’t let it go until you give him a proper explanation for the sudden change in your treatment.

“It’s difficult to explain why you’re not angry with me.”

There it goes again, that weird phrasing of his inner thoughts. You huff in irritation and Mando misunderstands your annoyed expression so he steps away and turns to look everywhere else but you.

“No, Mando...maker- yes it’s difficult to explain because you’re- no, not you. It’s not your fault it’s mine. I’m just not used to- gods why is this so hard?” You’re visibly stressed and it must be a sight because Mando comes back to stand in front of you and he rests one hand on your shoulder, waiting until you turn to look at him before he tries to break the anxiety-inducing silence.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I- I shouldn’t have offered to walk through the festival with you. I should have thought of how uncomfortable you’d feel before I selfishly asked t-” You perk up at his choice in words and you’re about to ask him what he meant by what he said but he doesn’t give you a chance. “Please believe me when I tell you I only wanted to...I thought it might help.”

“You see, this is exactly why I’m avoiding you.” You’re not sure who’s more surprised by your little outburst but when his hold tightens around your shoulder, you think maybe it’s him.

“So you are avoiding me.”

“Yes okay? I am, I’m avoiding you because the last few days felt like a whiplash of emotions and I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. One minute you’re angry and quiet and it’s as if I’m not in the same space as you, and the next thing I know, you’re rewiring your damn ship so I know how to use it and then offering to pretty much waste your time during one of the most beautiful festivals in the galaxy just to make sure I’m enjoying myself. And...and it’s difficult because I feel myself falling but I don’t want to because I’m afraid...I’m afraid you won’t be there to catch me...because you don’t have to. Because why would you when-”

You’re not sure how you got to this moment but all you know is that you're’ suddenly surrounded by Mando and the cold beskar armor and his natural musk and this unique woodsy scent and it’s-

It’s breathtaking.

“Cyar’ika, I didn’t know...I didn’t know I was causing you this much distress. It’s difficult for me to- to speak my he- to speak at times. I wasn’t thinking of how I’m coming off and I was so busy trying to figure out my- my own feelings...that I didn’t stop and think of what you must be going through.” His voice is low and you think perhaps that it’s breaking with every word he whispers through the vocoder, so you do the only thing you think of at the moment. Reluctantly, you wrap as much of your arms around him as physically possible, hoping he’d understand that you were listening to him and no longer trying to ignore him.

“Mando-”

“I- I volunteered for this supply run.” You’re not sure how this relates to this current affair but you sink further into his embrace, hoping that he wouldn’t shy away from explaining why he’s bringing this up now.

“I know. Fett told me.”

“Did he tell you why?” Mando replies instantly and you furrow your eyebrows even though you know he can’t see you.

“N-no.”

“I- I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Ever since the last time I saw you, I’ve been at war with myself, with what I was allowing to happen. I knew you weren’t to blame with the cauterizer but I couldn’t accept my heart letting you...maker, I can see why you said this is difficult.” He chuckles nervously and you hold your breath in anticipation because he isn’t, he can’t be admitting what you think he is.

“W-what’re you saying Mando?”

“I’m saying I need you cyar’ika. I’m saying, I’ve been dreaming of you for the past 53 sleeping cycles. I’m saying, I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you after Pasaana.” You don’t realize how long you’ve been holding your breath until you exhale against him and Mando pulls away, keeping his helmet aimed to the floor as he continues. “And if- if you can give me a chance, I’d like to- I’d like to...well, I’m not exactly sure what you enjoy doing but I’d like to do it with you. You don't have to give me an answer now. I know I’m being selfish and I know that I- I don’t belong with you because you haven't seen color yet. But please, please consider this. Consider me.” His voice is much more reserved, lower even, than before and you realize it’s because he was probably considering not telling you up until now.

Your heart breaks at his last words because this was never something you thought you’d have to deal with. But looking back at the last few days, no matter how confusing or strange they were, you can’t help but admit how alive you’ve felt.

You know he doesn’t expect you to answer him right away and you know you should take some time to think over what he’s asking of you.

So when you lay both of your hands on his chest and ask him to look at you, Mando thinks you’re going to reject him and you feel his muscles tense when you step closer to him.

“I do...I- I am considering this Mando, I have been for the past few nights if I’m being honest...it’s actually part of the reason why I couldn’t look at you today. I woke up with this unusual thought, well, unusual to me. It’s been so long since I stopped thinking about seeing color and directed all of my attention to something, or rather, someone else.” You smile up into the visor and slowly reach to rest your hand on the space between his helmet and his cowl. The mere touch of your skin shakes him to his core and Mando has to clench his fists so he doesn’t lose control over himself.

“Today was the first time I woke up not caring if I hadn’t seen color because- because being with you, and- and talking with you and staying on this ship with you felt like I’ve already seen color. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do...if I do, but I know that I’d like to give this, us, a shot.”

“You...you do mesh’la?” He almost sounds like a young child asking his parents for permission to have something and when you nod at him, Mando can’t hold back anymore. He wraps his arms around you once more, and carries you off the ground, smiling to himself when he hears you giggling at his dramatic display of affection.

He pulls away and you think he’s about to say something but a message comes through to the ship and Mando apologizes quickly before he ascends to the cockpit. You stay planted in your spot for what feels like hours before you hear Mando telling you that you’re nearing Pasaana. When you get to the cockpit and take your usual seat, Mando rises from his chair and approaches you, kneeling down at your feet to buckle your belt easier and ensure that you’re safe. It’s a small gesture but you know he’s conveying a thousand emotions in that little tap to make sure that you’re buckled in properly and when you smile at him, he reaches over and pushes a stray hair behind your ears before he returns to his pilot chair.

You don’t feel the turbulence once, mostly because you’re too busy replaying the brief moment over and over again in your mind until you’re sure you’ve committed it to memory.

Mando has to tap on your shoulder twice once he lands, and you nod in affirmation when he asks if you were feeling alright. The two of you make your way out of the ship just as Slave I lands. When you glance at Mando to ask him about the argument between him and Fett, you find him already staring at you. You smile at him and watch as he looks away apologetically. Maybe he really was as nervous as you.

“You’re coming along then?” Fett says to Mando as you make your way towards the desert and you pretend to focus on the dozens of kites flying in the air, unsure whether you were meant to be a part of this conversation or not.

Mando replies in Mando’a and you look to Fennec to ask her something about the kites to try and ignore the two men who may or may not have been talking about you. You’re about to ask Fennec about the colors of the flying toys when Mando steps in between the two of you and takes hold of your upper arm, pushing you ahead of the others so he could get a private moment with you.

“Is- are you okay?”

“Fine. He’s being difficult.” His curt answer lets you know that he wasn’t going to reveal what that whole ordeal was about so you nod and try to fall in step with him. You’re about to ask him about the colors of the kites when Mando leans over and whispers in your ears.

“Those two over there are red, like the color of the twin suns on Tatooine when they’re just setting. And, that one over there, the large one flying higher than the rest, it’s a dark blue...like the night sky.” You try to not let the proximity of his body affect you but the more he tells you of the colors, the closer you want him to get to you.

“That smaller one is light green, like many of the plants on Felucia.”

“I’ve never been to Felucia.” You admit to him as you keep your gaze on the kites, trying to differentiate between the colors but barely noticing a difference between the grays.

“I can take you there.” He offers with ease and you look into the visor and smile at him. “I’d like that.”

You can vaguely feel their eyes on you but you don’t bother to pay attention to them, wanting to spend as much time with Mando as you could. Once you reach the edge of the festival, you thank the Aki-Aki that approach you and wrap a necklace of flowers around you. You laugh when they reluctantly look at Mando and he sighs heavily at your death stare before he leans down and allows one of them to place a necklace around his cowl as well.

“Hey Mando?”

“Hmm.”

“Do the necklaces look the same?” Mando turns around and sees Fett and Fennec look away from the two of you. He waits until they walk the opposite direction before he looks at you and takes hold of your necklace.

“Yours have lighter colors...yellow, orange, white, pink and a few light greens here and there. Mine is darker. This is purple, and these are blue...and all of these are dark red and brown.” He points to each of the flowers and tells you its color, never once noticing the way you’re looking at him and hanging onto every single word he says.

When you hear the sound of distant music playing, you take Mando’s hand and make your way through the crowd, telling him that you want to see what they’re doing on the other side of the festival. Mando says nothing as you pull him through, only responding when you directly ask him about the color of the caravan fabrics and laughing when you joke about how he technically blends into the surroundings. And when you come across a large crate that you can vaguely see some designs on, Mando offers to make room for it on his ship so you can get it. It’s a long argument between the two of you but he wins in the end, telling you that he genuinely wanted to gift you something that you can remember him with and might enjoy some day. You almost cry at the unspoken implications of his words but when he shrugs his shoulders and hands over the credits, you quietly thank him and let the seller know that you’ll be taking it before you leave.

Over the next few hours, Mando never leaves your side once, even when you tell him that he should enjoy his time as well. You notice how he changes the subject every time you ask him to explore by himself and giggle when he responds with an opinion on some of the color combinations. It’s quite comical to be in the presence of such an intimidating individual who’s complaining about how ‘that blue doesn’t go too well with this red.’

As you’re making your way through the different caravans, you notice a table displaying a dozen large cloaks. Turning to Mando, you see that he’s busy asking one of the sellers if they have similar shirts but in darker colors. You walk to the table on the other side and look through the capes to try and differentiate between them. When you realize that it’s of no use, you hold one up and call for him to ask if he should buy a new one.

“Hey Mando, maybe you should get this instead of-”

The question dies in your throat when Mando glances away from the vendor and holds your gaze. Your brain refuses to catch up with what your eyes are seeing for what feels like an eternity and your hand flies to your chest and clench it tightly as your heart skips a beat at the sight in front of you. It takes a few seconds for you to inhale deeply when you realize that you aren’t breathing and you feel your heart skip a beat when you watch Mando strut towards you. He drops what he’s holding in his hands and takes a few strides in your way, not caring to hold back as he wraps one arm around your waist while the other rests on your neck and tilts your head so he could take a better look at you. You still can’t wrap your mind around what just happened and you’re not sure what he’s saying until he lightly shakes you in his arms and raises his voice to grab your attention.

Maker, his voice was unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It was hoarse yet calming, the kind of calming that one could only dream of feeling.

“Mesh’la, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice shakes you to your core and your eyes shift down to his lips, tilting your head to the side when you follow the scruff peppering his handsome features and memorize the different colors of his hair. Gods, you couldn’t put a name to any of them but you knew you liked the combination of the light and dark outlining his sharp jaw.

“I- I don’t...maker. You’re...you’re-” You’re unable to form a coherent thought and as you reach out to touch his cheeks, Mando clenches his jaw but doesn’t dare to move a muscle. He realizes that this is the first time you see him without his helmet and he finds himself praying that you find him, at the very least, okay to look at. His hold on you eases when he feels the palm of your hand caress the side of his face before you push his hair aside. Mando nuzzles into your touch and he shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory. The last time someone was this gentle with him broke his heart, but he found himself longing for a similar feeling with you. Only if it was you.

“N-no...please. Look at me.” Your whispered request drowns out the music of the festival and Mando’s eyes flutter open immediately. He looks down at you and can’t help but shift his focus to your parted lips as you try to speak again.

“Mando? What...what color are your eyes?” You hold your breath as Mando’s gaze softens when he meets your eyes again. He doesn’t know why you’re asking but he answers you anyway.

“Brown.” His voice breaks but then you’re smiling up at him as you reach for his cheek with your other hand and rest it on his heated skin. He’s not sure what brought about any of this but he can’t care less, not when you were here, in his arms, touching him so gently and looking at him like he was the only one that mattered across the galaxy.

“Hmm...they’re a beautiful color.” The admission sends a shiver down his spine and he doesn’t register the meaning behind your words until he sees your expression change to one of panicked shock.

Oh.

“You can see color?” Mando doesn’t intend to sound so accusative but his tone must have been harsh because you nod and snatch your hands away from him as if he’s burned you. You don’t dare look anywhere else as the reality of the situation settles in your mind.

It’s him. It’s been him all along.

“I- I can see color.”

Mando watches as you blink in confusion before you look to the side. You do a double-take when you see the vibrant colors of the festival and Mando steps away as you walk around him and approach a caravan hanging clothing of all color gradations. You ignore everything else as you softly trace the different colors and patterns on the garments before you walk over to the next little cart and stare at the vibrant jewelry. There’s so much to take in and you forget for a moment where you are. When you look away and turn your eyes to the sky, you can’t help but smile at seeing the kites gliding through the air. You don’t know which one you want to focus on because they’re all so pretty so you stand in there for a few moments to take it all in.

It’s not until you feel a presence next to you that you remember how you came to see this new world. When you begin to ring your fingers anxiously, Mando takes a step towards you and takes your hands in his palms.

“Cyar’ika, do you need anything?” He doesn’t know what to say and your lungs refuse to expand when you finally look at him again.

You spent years conjuring up different scenarios in your head to try and anticipate what to expect when you finally meet your soulmate. But standing here, in front of Mando, in the middle of the Festival of the Ancestors, you realize that this compares to nothing.

“I- I don’t…”

“If you want me to go-”

“No! N-no, please. Stay here with me. Stay here with...me.” Y

ou tighten your hold around his hands to prevent him from leaving. Mando nods and turns back to the caravan he was standing by to grab his helmet. You say nothing as he carries it and looks at you, but your eyes must give you away because Mando throws you a quick smile as he keeps it on his side and leads you through the festival.

Neither of you discuss the new development but you don’t ignore it either. You continue to steal glances from each other every now and then, especially when Mando leans over and tells you about each of the colors. Except this time, he doesn’t tell you so you could imagine what they look like. He tells you so you could memorize what each pigment is and begin to recognize them on your own. It’s almost as if nothing changed with how often Mando describes to you the gradations and patterns, but you know that this was far from the truth. And with the way Mando breathes softly against your forehead when he leans down to talk to you, you sense that he knows this as well.

He’s much more forward with his touches now, perhaps even a little shameless too. Hours ago, he would apologize if he pushed you by accident or shifted closer to you. But now, he was walking with you with one hand on your lower back and he would stand longer behind you as you asked about a new color shade.

As the sun slowly sets across the sky, you turn to Mando and wait for him to finish his drink before you ask him about the others.

“Do you mind if we don’t tell the others just yet?” You watch as Mando’s expression falls and you shake your head immediately so he doesn’t misunderstand the reason behind your request.

“Not because I don’t want them to know about us, I- maker, it’s just that I’ve experienced so many changes in the span of a few days and I want to make sense of things without...without someone asking me too many questions about what I’m feeling. I want to let this sink in? And- and I’d like it if it’s just you and me. Please.” Mando is quiet for a while and you think that maybe it was the wrong thing to say to him.

“Us?”

You can’t hold back your laughter at the soft question and you almost fall over from how hard you’re giggling at him.

“That’s what you took away from everything I just said?” You sigh in relief when he mirrors you and chuckles in return.

“I’m sorry cyar’ika, I- of course. Whatever you need from me.” He’s a man of few words but he somehow knows what to say to calm your nerves.

“Thank you Mando.” You say as you turn your attention back to the setting sun to watch the colors change across the sky.

“Din Djarin.” He whispers to you after a long while, and you meet his eyes briefly, your furrowed eyebrows silently asking him what he was referring to.

“My name is Din Djarin.” His gaze is piercing and you find it much more intense now that you know for a fact that they’re your favorite color. “So you can start calling the other guy Mando again.” Your heart skips a beat when you see dimples appear on his cheeks as he grins at his own joke, and nudges your shoulder so you could relax into him again. You say nothing and lean against his shoulder, resting your head on his beskar armor and enjoying the cold sensation against your heated skin.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in your bubble and watch the festival as it continues on for, but you’re interrupted when Fett approaches you and clears his throat to catch your attention.

“We’re leaving.” The Mandalorian says as he watches you closely. You think you’re being subtle studying his armor but Fett notices how you continue to look between him and Din’s and he tilts his head to the side as he turns to his friend and barely holds back from smirking at him.

Din nods and lets them know that you would be returning with him back to Mos Eisley. Fennec is about to ask why the two of you are acting differently when Fett shakes his head as he looks at you.

“Until next time princess,” Din’s posture straightens when he hears the nickname and narrows his eyes at the man trying to get a rise out of him.

“Usenye.” You snap out of your haze when you hear Din growl at his brother and wave goodbye to him and Fennec as they walk away from you.

“Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“Yes sweet girl, don’t worry about it.” You flush at the pet name and Din notices how you shiver at his touch when he raises your chin to take a better look at you. He slowly leans towards you, never once breaking eye contact as he grows closer to your lips. “Is- is this okay?” He asks and refuses to move a muscle until you respond to him. You’re already breathless and he has barely touched you but you muster up the courage to answer him.

“Y-yes.”

He smirks when your hoarse voice fans over his cheeks and as much as you wish for him to take whatever he wants, you’re thankful that he’s being patient with you and ensuring that you’re comfortable.

“Sweet girl,” Din whispers as he finally captures your lips in a chaste kiss. It’s at this precise moment that the festivities begin to pick up but you don’t notice the fireworks filling the skies or the music growing louder. You shut your eyes and hold onto Din’s wrists as he moves against you and deepens the kiss. When you gasp at his ministrations, Din’s hold on your neck tightens and he pushes you back until you lay on the blanket he set down for you. You moan as he slips his tongue past your lips and swirls his tongue across yours. Fisting your hands into his cowl, you try to pull him closer but cry out in pain when the beskar armor digs into your hips.

“I’m- I’m sorry mesh’la. I didn’t mean to-”

“No no it’s...it’s just your armor. I promise, I- I liked this.” You gulp nervously when you see an amused expression take over his handsome features.

“Is that so?” You don’t have time to react to his question, squealing in surprise when he suddenly stands up and pulls you along with him.

“What- where are we going?” You ask him as he pulls you through the multitude of visitors and Aki-Aki. He stops abruptly and speaks to one of the natives before he pushes you into the caravan standing behind him.

“Din, we can’t just-”

“I asked for his permission. Don’t you know, all of these are for visitors who want to stay the night.” You’re about to ask him why you’re staying the night out here instead of his ship but you can’t seem to form the question because you see Din taking his armor off.

It’s mesmerizing watching him take each beskar piece apart but when he’s down to just his clothes, it occurs to you that this night might be going somewhere else. Your nervousness must show on your face because Din walks towards you slowly and takes your hands in his. He kisses your wrists before leans over and rests his forehead against yours.

“Don’t worry cyar’ika, I’m not… I won’t- we’re not here to do anything other than talk. I didn’t feel comfortable taking my beskar off out there so-”

“I trust you Din.” You interrupt his word-vomit and lead him to one of the corners of the tent so you could lay down next to each other. When you rest your head on the pillow and finally look up, you’re met with a small opening in the ceiling of the caravan that gives you a perfect view of the blue night sky lighting up with fireworks.

When Din finally seats himself next to you, you whine in irritation and pull him down until he’s on his back next to you. Din never once lets go of your hand and he occasionally raises the palm of your hand to his lips to kiss across the skin.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look away from the fireworks when you speak, not wanting to miss seeing any of the vibrant shades of reds and yellows as they broke through the clouds.

“Anything sweet girl.”

“Why did you take off your helmet? I thought your Creed prevented you from showing your face.” You hope the question isn’t too insensitive or private, and when Din takes longer than you like to respond, you finally turn to him to apologize. But Din cuts you off before you can even say anything, keeping his focus on your wrist to distract him long enough so he could respond.

“I had a son once, well, he wasn’t mine physically but, he was mine. He was a foundling by Creed and I was tasked with bringing him back to his kind. It’s a long story that I could tell you another time but...when I had to give him up, I couldn’t bear the thought of him never seeing me without the helmet. I needed him to see me, to know what I willingly gave up and what I had to do to ensure his safety. I’d taken off my helmet once before and even thought it was my choice, I didn’t want to. But in that moment, before I watched him go, I decided that he was more important than my Creed. He was...he was everything to me. And it took a long time to realize that personal connections and relationships weren’t a weakness, they were a strength. My strength.” You’re not sure when you turned to your side and nuzzled into his embrace. But you couldn’t focus on anything else but him and the way his eyes twinkled in sadness when he mentioned his kid. It was a shocking admission and you never once thought of him in such a role but looking back at the last few days, you didn’t find it impossible. He was kind, quiet, sweet, adn patient.

“I keep my helmet on almost all the time but I only take it off around people I trust. I’m telling you this because- because I trust you. I trust you cyar’ika. I took it off earlier today because I wanted you to see me...and also because I was trying to pick out a gift for you. I figured if I didn’t preface it with anything that it would be less dramatic but- little did I know.” The indirect mention of the not-so-little change you experienced earlier today makes you smile.

“If I knew you needed to look into my eyes for you to see color, I would have taken off the helmet the first time I saw you.” He trails his nose across your cheek before he kisses your eyes and your forehead, smiling down at you when he sees how relaxed you feel in his arms.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Your response surprises him and he pulls away and looks at you quizzically.

“I- I saw you before my eyes saw you, Din. My heart chose you before my soul did. I...I think I knew when I saw you again…I think a part of me knew that you were it for me and that it didn’t matter if I didn’t see color with you because- because you were...you’re perfect.” You feel a weight lift off of your chest when you finally confess to him what you’ve been feeling for the past few days and you shift impossibly closer to him to let him know that you were telling the truth.

“I’m not perfect mesh’la.” His laugh is self-deprecating and he only stops when he feels your hand slip around his back and hold onto his shirt like your life depended on it.

“You are to me.” It’s perhaps too forward for him and Din doesn’t know how to react or respond to your confession so he nods at you and nuzzles into your neck to avoid any more of your intense emotions.

“You haven’t told me yet what your favorite color is.” He tries to change the topic, not expecting your response to shoot through his chest and into his heart like a blaster.

“Brown obviously.” You answer instantly and without hesitation.

“Why ‘obviously’?”

“Well, it’s-it’s your eye-color Din. What other color could be my favorite?”

His heart ceases to beat at your adamant reply and he pulls away again to look into your eyes to see if you were teasing him. Instead, he finds something swimming in your eyes that would have terrified his soul had he met you years ago.

“Ner kar’ta,” Din moans into your ear as he rests up on his elbow before molding his lips with yours again. You don't know what any of the Mando’a means but you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to convey in that moment and you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him closer to you. When he lays back down and pulls you into his side, you can’t help but take one last look at the night sky, finding the stars shimmering behind the multitude of fireworks. You watch the different colors blend with each other, and you almost cry when you see the yellows and greens and blues mixing so beautifully together to create new gradients across the galaxy.

But none of them compared to the color of Din’s eyes. And you go to sleep dreaming of the moment those kind, dark, brown orbs captured your soul and whispered affections into your heart.

Translations

Mesh’la - beautiful Cyar’ika - beloved/darling Ad’ika - little one Usenye - go away Ner kar’ta - my heart

Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @mouthymandalorian @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul

Din Djarin: @a--1--1--3 @tanzthompson

[touyasdoll]

Dumb Luck

From anon: Hi, I've had a shitty few days with terrible luck and I hoping a request for you could make things better. Just a simple Shoto x reader story where the reader regards Shoto as her/their lucky charm, because he makes them feel less cursed and actually valuable. (I'm really venting here, but I hope this gets your inspiration flowing, it doesn't have to be very long.)

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to, but I hope you enjoy and I hope things are going well for you, anon 🖤

———————————

“All right, class, we have a new student. I trust that you will all make her feel welcome.”

Your new home room teacher was addressing the entirety of Class 1A, but he kept his intimidating gaze squarely fixed on a shorter looking boy with purple balls atop his head, who was clearly squirming under Aizawa’s stare.

Making a mental note to avoid whoever that boy was, you scanned the room to peer out at the faces of your new classmates. They all looked nice, save for one blonde boy who’s face seemed to be permanently transfixed in a scowl.

Maybe you should avoid him too? And that’s when you saw the most handsome face you had ever laid eyes on for the very first time. His hair was two-toned, red and white. His eyes were also heterochromatic and one was framed with a large scar, but both seemed to gleam as he offered a gentle smile toward you.

“Go ahead and introduce yourself and then feel free to take your seat at the back of the class next to Todoroki."

That’s when you noticed the empty seat next to him. You cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush that was creeping across your cheeks.

"Hi, my name is Y/n. I'm looking forward to getting to know you all."

You smiled as you took in some more of your new classmates faces, feeling reassured by the bright smile on the face of a green haired boy who just might have been an actual cinnamon roll in disguise.

"What's your quirk?"

Your attention was called to a girl with horns and pink skin, who also offered a reaffirming smile in your direction.

"Oh, uhm, I have a telekinesis quirk."

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you shifted on your feet as you were about to take a step toward your assigned seat when another male student with bright red hair called out.

"What? That's so manly! I mean--not that you're--that's not what i meant, you're really pretty actually I--," he scratched at the back of his neck, his face flushing the same shade as his crimson hair. "I mean can we see your quirk? If that's okay with you?"

Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a seat at his desk, shaking his head at the awkward exchange that he would rather just not acknowledge.

You laughed it off and blushed in response to the red head's compliment.

"Uh, yeah, if that's okay?"

Looking over at your teacher, he exhaled and nodded, his stoic expression returning to his persistently tired features.

"Oh, and uh pick a number between 1 and 10,000"

Setting your bag down, you nodded toward the boy and watched him bare his sharp teeth as he momentarily paused to think and then nodded in response to your request.

"Okay, I got it."

Maintaining eye contact with him, you focused on his thoughts while activating your quirk to lift his backpack off of his seat, guiding it toward the front of the room with your hands, before returning it to it's rightful place.

"Whoa! That's so cool!"

He grinned in awe as he watched his backpack settle behind him once again.

"Y/n?" The green haired boy had his hand up, looking perplexed, but also so polite as he waited for your attention. "Why did you have him pick a number?"

You smiled as you physically picked up your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder.

"Oh, because there's kinda two parts to my quirk, but actually, could you pick a number? I don't know if I wanna repeat the one he picked."

You watched the red head blush as he shrunk back in his desk, before glancing back at Todoroki, who eyes were still intent on your frame.

"You can tell Todoroki for confirmation, so you know I'm not faking."

He perked up a bit at the sound of you saying his name, the corners of his lips turning up in a shy smile before he leaned over, so that the boy could whisper his number in his ear.

"Got it?"

You smiled at Todoroki, his small smile making your stomach do flips before you found the will to look away from him and back and the other boy.

After a moment of concentration, you announced your guess.

"4,389. Right?"

His green eyes went wide and an excited smile broke across his freckled cheeks.

"Whoa, are you psychic? Telekinesis AND telepathy? That's so awesome! Oh my gosh, can I ask you some questions after class, so I can write some not--

You nodded, blushing a bit at his enthusiasm. You've always enjoyed your quirk, but no one had ever reacted quite as energetically to it and the rest of the class seemed almost as amazed as him.

"Wait, what was Kirishima's number?"

The perpetually angry looking blonde boy's face twisted in curiosity as you moved to take your seat.

"It was uh, six thousand, nine hundred sixty-nine. Right?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper as your quickly scurried toward your desk, not missing the deep shade of red Kirishima had turned before the blonde boy smacked his arm with the back of his hand.

"Is there some significance to that number?"

Todoroki's gaze followed you as you took your seat beside him, ignoring the laughter that had erupted throughout the classroom, much to Aizawa's chagrin.

"Oh, uh, yeah it's uh--I don't quite know how to explain it though. Uhm," fidgeting in your seat, you slung your bag over your chair before turning somewhat sideways, angling yourself in your seat to face him, keeping your voice low. "Do you not know why the number 69 is significant?"

His expression seemed to only grow more puzzled as he cocked his head further to one side.

"No. I can understand why 6,969 would be significant, seeing as it's 69 repeated, but I don't see why that number i--"

A boy with yellow hair, striped in the front with a bit of black leaned over, interrupting Todoroki's query.

Suddenly, his eyes grew a bit wider and he nodded slightly, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Okay. I can see why that would be funny.”

His smile was small and somewhat reserved, but it was adorable and the sight of it made you giggle.

"Yeah, that's why I didn't wanna go with his number. Didn't want anyone to think that I was a perv or playing a gross joke or something. I'm not trying to start off on the wrong foot here."

He cocked his head slightly to the side again, turning somewhat in his desk the way you had to better face you.

"Well, I think you have made a good first impression. I like you."

Your cheeks may as well have gone up in flames, you could tell they were beet red.

"Oh, uhm, thank you, Todoroki."

Clearing your throat again, you hoped the excess color would drain from your cheeks in the time you took to stare at the floor beneath your desk.

"You can call me Shoto."

His hand awkwardly extended toward you after a brief pause, flashing in front of the view you had of your feet beneath your desk.

You reached out and shook it carefully, feeling an icy coolness in your palms that you were grateful for as you felt your hands clam up.

"It's really nice to meet you, Shoto. You're uhm, you're so much nicer than anyone I ever interacted with at my last school, so uh, thank you for that."

His brow furrowed in confusion as you both retracted your hands.

"What do you mean? They weren't nice to you? Why?"

You shrugged shifting your weight to rest your elbow on the desk, accidentally knocking your unprotected cell phone straight off the desk, which mercifully landed on top of Shoto's bag, which had fallen to the floor, no doubt saving your phone from what would have been a thoroughly cracked screen.

"Oh--! Oh, wow, I thought that was going to end up broken for sure. That would have been my just my luck."

"Maybe your luck is changing. I hope your experience here at UA is different than it was at your previous school. I'll do my best to make your time here more positive."

His smile was somewhat sheepish, but genuine and for the first time in a long time, you felt comfortable around your peers. Maybe transferring schools was a good idea after all.

//Two Weeks Later//

"Dang it!" You huffed as your hurriedly threw your books into your backpack, scrambling to get up from the desk in the library.

Shoto calmly looked up at you in your frenzied state and stood, beginning to pack up his things as well.

"Where are we going?"

Throwing your bag over your shoulders, you nabbed the last of your books off the desk and made a move to start toward the door, but stopped when you realized Shoto was getting up to follow you.

"I completely lost track of time. I have to catch the last bus to go and pick something up downtown and I think I'm about to miss it."

He nodded and stepped toward you, following you out the library doors.

"Sometimes the buses run a little late. Maybe if you're lucky, it won't have come yet."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

"Yeah, sure. Look, I will give you fair warning now; I'm one of the unluckiest people in the planet. The odds are super slim of even something small going wrong? My luck dictates that absolutely EVERYTHING will go wrong. At this point, I'm nearly convinced that a witch cursed me as a baby or something."

He shrugged, coming to a halt at the curb as a bus slowly began to pull up.

"I told you."

Your mouth gaped slightly as you shook your head.

"Okay, wow, well I'm glad you were right about the buses running late."

"I meant about what I said about your luck changing. I hope you've been having a better time here than at your last school. You deserve to, Y/n."

He stepped back and gestured for you to enter the bus ahead of him, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, uhm, I--uh, I hope so."

You climbed up the steps and nearly tripped up the small flight of stairs, but his strong hands steadied your hips from behind before anyone could notice your falter, keeping you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a nearly packed bus.

"Thank you, Shoto."

You scurried toward the first set of open seats that you could find, letting your hair dangle in your face to try and conceal the heat on your face.

"Sorry, I, uh--," Shoto took a seat beside you, actively trying not to let his muscular thigh brush against yours, which was virtually impossible on a crowded bus, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the way I touched you, I--I just didn't--didn't want you to fall or anything."

Feeling a bit more brave in sensing how nervous he was over the interaction, you relaxed and let the arm and leg that were already pressed up against him in the tight quarters press against him a little more intentionally.

"It's okay, I appreciate you not letting me make an absolute fool of myself. Seems like you're always around to help me in that regard."

Giggling, you began searching for the nerve to look up and make eye contact with him.

Hearing him mumble something, you decided to dig deep and look up at him with a curious smile.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

His left side was giving off more heat than usual as you noticed he was blushing too, scratching the back of his neck nervously with his right hand.

"Dumb luck, I guess. That I'm always around when you need it. I'm glad I can be, I hope I can, uh, continue to be. If you, i-if you would let me be around you more often lik--"

He was rambling, clearly nervous, and it was an adorable sight to see. Further emboldened by his demeanor, you shifted your weight to lean against him, brushing the back of his hand with yours.

"Are you trying to ask me out, Shoto?"

His expression went blank as he nodded, save for the adorable flush on his cheeks.

"I am. Did I do it right? Or---wait, did you read my mind?"

You shook your head as your giggled, knitting your fingers together with his.

"No, I didn't need to."

He smiled, shifting his weight to lean against you as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"How did you know then?"

You shrugged playfully before resting your head against his shoulder.

"Dumb luck."

[beardedmrbean]

Anon again.

I'm going to try my hardest to follow your advice, but I don't think it will work for me.

I already struggle alot with my emotions, trying to understand/control them to a productive atmosphere, letting myself feel deeply with certain circumstances, and allowing myself to feel negatively.

I spent a good 20 minutes maybe writing that original ask and then waiting for a potential response from you, and during that time I'd resigned myself to fall asleep and feel sorry for myself, but after reading your response I decided to try and redirect my energy, take some time to shower and get ready for bed, ect, and instead my brain turned that into "your heart is beating a thousand miles a minute, go push heavy shit and make holes."

Which, of the two options, only one I can do legally at a gym. I know tommorow is going to shck, so I think my brain is forcing my body to tire itself out to give me an excuse to not go. And funnily enough, the plan is to go bowling, for the first time in one friend's case. But at this point it's seeming like it's only going to be me, the gal I liked, and another coworker. So it's going to be even worse than I'd thought.

And the message to wait for others to invite me: no one does. I always make the plans, set up dinner, aks people to go out, ect.

I think honestly what hurt me the worst was when the check came, she didn't even say anything to split it, which we as a group always do, instead she seemed to expect me to pay for it. So now, for the rest of my life, I'm going to have a nagging little thought in my head that she knew what tonight was to me, and she decided to lead me on for a free meal and dessert.

But fuck it. I'm done with that. I'm staying the hell away from this shit for a while and throwing myself into bettering myself. I'm going to either become happy with myself as a person, or die alone, I can only shoot for one ending or the other, and I refuse to fuck this one chance at life up.

Sorry for the ramble again.

You're good with the ramble, it's a rough situation.

Just do your best to not close yourself off completely, keep some lines open, leave a few cracks that the right person can exploit to help get you back to a point of self esteem.

Even more important learn how to tell your brain to shut it's hell mouth when it starts in hitting your confidence.

I think that's likely where that bit about your date falls, you've known the person long enough to have hit a point where there is affection there can't see too many people getting to that point if they think the person is capable of that kind of cruelty.

But that's something you're going to have to drill back into your own head.

Grief is normal and human recovering from it is not a linear process, things go up and down and not being in as good a place one week as you were the previous does not mean things aren't better than they were at other points.

You'll get there, like I said, I've got plenty of confidence in you.

You'll come back stronger than you previously were too

[starlight-loki]

The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard @delightfulheartdream @justasmisunderstoodasloki @marvels-mischief @k8obr @pastyoverlord265 @lowkeytesss @levylovegood

Taglist for this fic only: @littleredstarfish @treblebeth @taylordani03

[metvmorqhoses]

i have a headcannon that voldemort never really “punishes” bella when she does something wrong, but his punishments to other death eaters are way way worse & so she’s obligated to act as if vold has given her a worse punishment than he actually has. not that she does a lot of things wrong as his “most faithful” though. i’m talking about the occasional slip up like the department of mysteries thing. had that been someone else, he probably would’ve harmed them more, let alone wouldn’t save then from some witch statue holding them down.

this is very true, anon. so true, in fact, i actually consider this much more a canon fact than mere speculation.

sorry if this is very long, but for every thousand of anti-bellamort idiots there must be a very precise bellamort’s defense attorney lol

correct me if i am wrong, but to my knowledge not once in the books a physical punishment coming from voldemort is ever mentioned in relation to bellatrix - and even if, let's be real, after his "rebirth" she became involved in literally the majority of the most crucial errors, the worst happenings ever, that ultimately brought to no less than his very downfall.

and yet, still, she came out of it all not only unscathed, but treated very specially.

even to a lazy reader, this should at least come across as peculiar.

let’s take the primary example of what i am saying, the battle of the department of mysteries.

just freed from azkaban and after being showered in honors and recognition, the first pivotal mission bellatrix was entrusted with was a damning fiasco.

true, it was not entirely her fault, lucius was in fact “in charge” of it, but let’s be real, do you really think voldemort sent his literal general with that malfoy dandy, his pupil, his most trusted and powerful lieutenant, just for company? just as a henchman? as i have always interpreted it, bellatrix was there to keep an eye on lucius, whose silver tongue was famously more apt to political plotting than to field missions.

voldemort wasn’t trusting lucius with the prophecy that had literally already meant almost death to him once, it would have been madness to. you can say anything about voldemort, but certainly not that he was an idiot.

i actually don’t think he ever trusted lucius at all. lucius had renounced him after his fall and didn’t manage to paint the fact as pragmatically as snape did, the cowardly aftertaste of his betrayal blatant and thoroughly disgusting on voldemort’s tongue. lucius’ status, family name, relations and wealth were just very useful for the movement and likely the only things that kept him in the high ranks of the regime (or alive at all) even before the fiasco, along with his marriage to bellatrix’s sister.

i am positive voldemort was in fact trusting bella to see the prophecy retrieved.

he probably didn’t officially put her in charge because she was still recovering from azkaban and therefore not completely stable or/and already with child (even if i tend to exclude the latter option, since she would have been still entirely too weak for a pregnancy to even take).

still, she was the one with the highest military rank there, not to mention the highest degree of closeness to voldemort, so you can bet she was the one that bore also the highest degree of moral obligation in that delicate situation. and she failed.

knowing voldemort, you would have expected to see killing curses flying left and right. had bellatrix been literally anyone else, she could have easily returned home to a murdered family and a pending death penalty.

instead, you see a voldemort that walks into the ministry of magic. you see a voldemort that, even already knowing the prophecy lost forever, renounces his every advantage and reveals himself once again to the wizarding world, moreover having to fight at the same time his very nemesis (nemesis that the mission should have helped him understand better and therefore defeat), dumbledore (the greatest wizard alive besides him) and soon the entirety of the aurors of britain.

what was exactly the reason that compelled him to enter such a nest of vipers, when he had been unwilling to do so in secrecy and surely in a highest degree of safety before and to retrieve the prophecy himself? to kill harry potter?

the very reason of the mission tells us he wasn’t sure about what to do with his potter dilemma and had therefore decided to have a more cautious, academical approach regarding the matter. he wanted to know the whole prophecy before trying again. he was frustrated and puzzled about harry’s absurd invincibility and insolent luck. do you really think he had decided to go for the hardest battle of his life unprepared and with dumbledore present of all people (whom he didn’t even directly kill afterwards) and possibly hundreds more on the way?

had voldemort suddenly turned from cold strategist to hotheaded kamikaze?

the only plausible answer is that voldemort had purposefully entered the ministry, risking capture and possibly his very life (or at least his newly created body, since at this point the horcruxes are still intact and a secret) and not knowing what exactly was there waiting for him, as a rather valiant rescue attempt and quite an unexpected one too.

bellatrix herself just moments before had laughed at the absurdity of the possibility of voldemort ever entering the place in response to harry’s questioning:

“Get it himself?” shrieked Bellatrix on a cackle of mad laughter. “The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?”

bellatrix herself believed it an impossible and ludicrous thought and yet, less than half an hour later and her life in jeopardy, there voldemort surely appeared.

you could speculate he wanted to save his most valuable, just freed death eaters and then couldn’t, but there’s no evidence of it in the chapter whatsoever. the only evidence points out to the fact he was focused only on saving bellatrix.

this is in fact what lucius tells his hunting party while harry and co are trying to escape the ambush:

Harry put his ear close to the door to listen and heard Lucius Malfoy roar: “Leave Nott, leave him, I say, the Dark Lord will not care for Nott’s injuries as much as losing that prophecy — Jugson, come back here, we need to organize! We’ll split into pairs and search, and don’t forget, be gentle with Potter until we’ve got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary — Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left, Crabbe, Rabastan, go right — Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead — Macnair and Avery, through here — Rookwood, over there — Mulciber, come with me!”

so, la crème de la crème of his high ranks is there and everyone is positive the only thing that voldemort would care about is the prophecy, even above captures and fatalities.

rabastan and rodolphus are also there and yet he doesn’t go for them.

he appeared when harry told bellatrix the prophecy was gone, specifically when bellatrix began to have a manic fit because of it, alone in the ministry’s atrium with harry.

“Potter, I am going to give you one chance!” shouted Bellatrix. “Give me the prophecy — roll it out toward me now — and I may spare your life!”

“Well, you’re going to have to kill me, because it’s gone!” Harry roared — and as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead. His scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage.

“And he knows!” said Harry with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix’s own. “Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it’s gone! He’s not going to be happy with you, is he?”

“What? What do you mean?” she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

“The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort’ll say about that, then?”

His scar seared and burned. . . . The pain of it was making his eyes stream. . . .

“LIAR!” she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. “YOU’VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME — Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY !”

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him. “Nothing there!” he shouted. “Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that —”

“No!” she screamed. “It isn’t true, you’re lying — MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”

“Don’t waste your breath!” yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever.

“He can’t hear you from here!”

“Can’t I, Potter?” said a high, cold voice.

specifically, he appears behind bella when she starts to maniacally invoke him, almost as if they had a special mean of communication with each other even from considerable distance.

(here bella is afraid voldemort would punish her and i find the manner of it very interesting, we will come back to it later on)

voldemort was obviously furious the prophecy was lost, but again why risking his own life on top of it? was he perhaps concerned of bella’s mental state now that she knew she had failed and therefore her ability to flee/fight his very nemesis, dumbledore and the aurors?

normally, we would have expected voldemort to stay away and deal with the surviving death eaters later, leaving them to their deserved destiny (as he did with literally everyone else who was there).

instead we have:

“So you smashed my prophecy?” said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. “No, Bella, he is not lying. . . . I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind. . . . Months of preparation, months of effort . . . and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again. . . .”

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer.

“Master, you should know —”

“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?”

“But Master — he is here — he is below —”

Voldemort paid no attention.

“I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,” he said quietly. “You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!”

even when she literally has just lost his one mean to achieve his every goal of a lifetime, she is “bella”. even when we would expect him to tear her to pieces then and there, he had come to stand between her and harry.

the only reprimand she receives is a scowling “be quiet bella, i shall deal with you in a moment”, as you would speak in public with someone who is very close to you and you are very mad at, who shouldn’t let that closeness slip in public, especially now that she’s making you risk a lot to save her sorry ass.

i find this scene very comic, on top of everything else. voldemort is clearly so done and yet there he is, come to save his sobbing mess nevertheless.

the scene proceeds with dumbledore’s arrival, the duel and bellatrix trapped under the statue. during the duel and just after having trapped bella, we see a really curious exchange:

“You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?” called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. “Above such brutality, are you?”

“We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,”

Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk toward Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. “Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit —”

“There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!” snarled Voldemort.

“You are quite wrong,” said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks.

(...)

"Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness —”

what is this fate “worse than death”, these “other ways to destroy a man” that dumbledore wants for voldemort? we know how it all ended - with voldemort’s literal death, his very disintegration (after bellatrix’s very own). what was this all about then? this one i’ll let you decide for yourself. it’s certainly peculiar, considered the context.

voldemort doesn’t respond to this, he in fact seems very provoked and sends a killing curse at him.

at the end of the duel he disappears and everyone thinks he fled, bellatrix included, who cries out his name sobbing from under the statue.

he in fact, at that, goes straight to possess harry.

And then Harry’s scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance —

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — And when the creature spoke, it used Harry’s mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . .

“Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . .

“If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .”

Let the pain stop, thought Harry.

Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . .

And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been (...)

“...where’s Voldemort, where — who are all these — what’s —”

The Atrium was full of people. The floor was reflecting emerald- green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall, and a stream of witches and wizards was emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.

“He was there!” shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped moments before. “I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!”

“I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!”

this passage is ever so interesting to me, because dumbledore’s words appear to have somehow made voldemort “emotional”. they provoked him somehow. he didn’t laugh at them. he linked them to the worst pain imaginable and almost killed harry with it, posing a philosophical dilemma - if such pain is worse than death, if my life is worse than death, why don’t you put this boy out of his misery?

there’s no doubt in my mind “that pain” is voldemort’s pain. a pain intrinsically love-related. voldemort’s problems to accept/understand/feel love are the crux of the saga, his every villainy and pain. it’s so interesting that in this whole scene the train of events and thought have ultimately reached this topic (even in the movie love is mentioned here, harry literally fights the possession telling him he shall never have it).

voldemort was furious with bellatrix, feared for his plans and life and went to save her anyway. he is enraged beyond belief but puts himself between her and harry and dumbledore. while they duel, dumbledore traps bellatrix and lectures him about “other ways to destroy a man” and “worse things than death”. he absolutely hits a nerve. voldemort completely feels what he’s meaning, so much he wants to retaliate and mercilessly - he never wants to be forced to face such things, such emotions. i don’t think he’s trying to kill harry there, he’s trying to prove a point, to make them both understand how it feels to be him, how the whole concept of love feels to him. and the matter is addressed in a scene entirely built around bellatrix. in fact, finally he then grabs her, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves, and flees. he effectively saves her and her only.

to me this whole passage is directly linked to the famous scream at bellatrix’s death, and to the way the events leading to voldemort’s own death unfolded. that scream might very well be that “fate worse than death”. jkr loves parallels and to me this one is perhaps the most beautiful of the series.

this really proves, in my opinion, at what depth their relationship stands, absurdly perhaps much more abysmal on voldemort’s part than on bella’s.

anyways, i took the time to analyze this particular episode because it’s emblematic of their relationship and his way to deal with her disasters.

lucius would carry on his face the signs of this fiasco literally for the rest of the entire series. the malfoys would fall from grace because of it, probably alive only because of bella’s intercession. half of the death eaters who were present at the ministry would end up back in azkaban.

voldemort would end up defeated, furious and destined to die.

bellatrix would come out of it not only physically unscathed, but with voldemort’s child.

even when she again loses the trio at malfoy’s manor (along with the sword), everyone ends up physically tortured but her. she says she fears for her life if voldemort was to know she lost the sword, but it seems more a metaphor than an actual possibility. when the cup is stolen from her vault, he makes her leave the room before murdering everyone in it. she’s not present at dumbledore’s assasination, and that’s because she wasn’t disposable.

i don’t think physical punishments are involved in their relationship, or if they are they are very rare, and i don’t think voldemort’s reactions to her transgressions/wrongdoings are in tune with the way he reacts to everyone else’s.

bella can more than anyone with him and never really loses this status of utter closeness, no matter what she does.

this obviously doesn’t mean that voldemort is a saint with her or that he doesn’t occasionally punish her. this doesn’t mean she isn’t rightfully afraid of him.

yet, the main way i see him actually hurting bella is psychological torture and silent treatment.

and here we come back at what bella was sobbing at the ministry, her desperate “MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”.

i don’t think a warrior, a general, a woman who remarkably survived 14 years at azkaban, would ever react this way to the mere fear of physical punishment, no matter how cruciatus curses hurt. i think she would have taken it as stoically as possible. thought she deserved it, even.

no, voldemort’s punishments must be unbearable to her, impossible to even fathom, because they involve falling from his graces, from the closeness she lives for. voldemort can serve bellatrix the cold, silent, disappointed treatment of a mentor and a lover, and have bellatrix literally rotting away because of it.

this is truly the worst thing he can do to her and the thing that had her sobbing and having a fit before harry at the mere idea of it.

this is also somehow confirmed when hermione, transformed in bellatrix, meets a death eater (i don’t remember who he was) before entering the gringott. he wasn’t surprised to see bella, well, alive and physically well, he was surprised to see her out of malfoy manor, where she was supposed to be confined.

so yes, definitely the way voldemort deals with bellatrix regarding punishments is special. everything regarding his way of treating bellatrix is, to be honest.

their relationship is written in such a subtle, beautifully twisted way. i adore it. the only problem is that because of it virtually no one ever connects the dots.

[jinkicake]

Fuck No Baby~

Kenma/Sakusa/Tsukishima with a high school pregnancy scare.

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

For Anon,,, I hope you like it!!! Ah~~ This took me so long to write, I don’t even know why LOL. I had fun writing it doe,,,, hopefully I was able to correct any mistakes I made because rereading almost three thousand words over and over again melted my brain ESP bc it was my own words,,, 

WC- 2,765

~~~

Kozume Kenma

Now….. Kenma,,,,, my sweet baby boy. He would know something is wrong with you the minute you start acting differently

He wouldn’t say anything though, not yet, he would just watch you with hawk eyes

He’d analyze everything you do and try to figure out what is upsetting you

Is it school? Your parents? Lev? Himself? What is wrong?

He’d probably ask Kuroo if he noticed anything different about you and, of course, Kuroo who can’t lie would be like “n-no”

When you finally tell Kenma that you think you’re pregnant, Kenma would be like "well how do you know?"

He’d be like “Did you take a test? Did you not get your period? Is it because you were stressed that you didn’t get your period?” And you’d be like ‘uhhhh I didn’t think about all that sir’

Cue Kenma scolding you for being so worrisome, he’d still hold your hand and try to calm you down and go get pregnancy test with you

He’d probably research a lot about pregnancy just to mentally prepare but then you come out with three negative tests and Kuroo is in the background like ‘I KNEW IT’

Then Kenma will get all mad again and ignore the two of you for leaving him out of the loop

Kenma stares at you from behind his psp, his chest tightens at the way you are holding onto Kuroo. Recently, you have been hanging out with your best friend more than your own boyfriend. Kenma normally would not care, he likes that you two hang out and leave him alone but lately it has been irritating him in a way he doesn’t quite understand. It is all the time, you always are with Kuroo instead of him. It’s almost like you two have gotten closer in a way and the insecurities of not being good enough cloud over Kenma’s head. He always knew you and Kuroo got along in ways that he wouldn’t understand, he has seen it growing up with the two of you. He never thought he would have to worry about it though.

“You need to tell him (Y/N).” Kuroo scolds and Kenma feels his ears perk up as he tries to listen in. 


“I’m not telling him,” You stubbornly stick your nose up into the air and Kuroo folds his arms over his chest disapprovingly. 

“If you don’t then I will.” Kuroo threatens and you can hide the betrayal off of your face. “He deserves to know.”


“What the fuck?! What about bro code?” You fumble your words as your heart beats frantically in your chest. 

“(Y/N) this isn’t some little thing you can sweep under the rug, you need to tell him.” Kuroo tells you and you stare at the ground. 

“Fuck off Kuroo, I’m not ready to tell him shit and now I’m not going to tell you anything either.” You frown in frustration and storm off to the gym. Kenma pretends like he didn’t hear any of the conversation but when Kuroo steps in front of him with that knowing sigh, Kenma doesn’t even try to pretend. 

“I don’t know how you put up with her.” Kuroo comments and sits down next to him, Kenma only narrows his eyes at the way he insulted you. Kuroo takes in a deep breath and quietly thinks for a moment. “Fuck, I have to tell you-“


“I don’t want to know.” Kenma tells him and Kuroo spits out in shock. “If she doesn’t want to tell me then I don’t want to know it.”


“Kenma you need to know.” Kuroo starts and Kenma stands up from the ground, wiping his thighs off before glancing down at his friend.

“Then I’ll go ask her.” Kenma walks away and Kuroo holds his hands up defensively, wishing him good luck. Kenma finds you laying against the bleachers, dramatically drawing shapes in the sky with your finger. 

“(Y/N).” Kenma calls out to you and you flinch before closing your eyes. 


“Yes, my love?” You ask innocently and Kenma has to refrain from rolling his eyes. 

“You have something to tell me.” He demands and you open your mouth to deny it however as you do so, the eery familiar sick feeling twitches in your gut and you hold up a finger to silence your boyfriend. “(Y/N),”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.” You start, your throat starts to close up, and Kenma rests his hand over yours. 


“You’ll never disappoint me, you know that.” Kenma reassures you and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“What if, I was pregnant?” You ask and Kenma flinches at your words. 

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats and you shake your head. 


“I might be, I mean I think I am.” At your words, Kenma pinches your nose and makes it harder for you to breathe. “Your first thought is to kill me?!” You screech.

“Did you even take a pregnancy test or think for a second that maybe your period is just late? Did you even recall that you went on a long plane ride to another country last week and maybe that offset your balance? God, (Y/N) you went to Kuroo with this and not me?” Kenma rants and you guiltily curl in on yourself, you didn’t think about any of that. “I-I’m sorry for getting so upset.” He quickly apologizes and you shake your head. 

“You’re right Kenma, and I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you but I was scared.” You whisper and tears begin to form, Kenma looks at the ground with hurt all over his face. 

“Why?” He asks just as quietly and you shrug. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.”


“You wouldn’t have, you’d never lose me no matter what you do.” Kenma confesses and you grab onto his hand for support, Kenma squeezes you and turns to look at you. His face softens are your watery eyes. “Stop crying.”

The next time you, Kenma, and Kuroo are hanging out it’s because you’re celebrating not being pregnant. There is cake and ice cream and you own up to apologizing to Kuroo for getting so angry with him when he was only trying to do the right thing. Kuroo, of course, forgives you and wasn’t even mad at you in the first place. He suggests a group hug that you happily take but Kenma stands off to the side, slapping both of you upside the head for keeping such a secret from him before taking his place in your arms.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

How does Sakusa even nut? Like I can’t imagine that he likes the gross feeling of cum all over his dick so like how would he use a condom and/or nut inside of you? I was just thinking about it…….. 

Anyway, whenever you try to hide something from Sakusa he always has a way to pry it out of you 

Like he will knock your door down with his mind to get you to face him

When he finds out you think you’re pregnant, he would just be like ‘well, that’s a lot to take in’

He’d go silent and use his very beautiful head to digest your words,

Now Sakusa is usually calm, but right now he isn’t. This man is freaking the fuck out internally as much as Sakusa can freak out 

Externally he is just like ‘oh’, come on you guys really think Sakusa knows anything about pregnancy 

He’d probably suggests taking you to the doctor or going to get you pregnancy tests

I feel like he would be very good at reassuring you that everything is going to be okay even if he isn’t so sure of that himself 

Please, his main concern is how much he would dislike going to the hospital. He is 99.9% sure that you aren’t pregnant and so he probably isn’t too worried about it, he’s more concerned with how upset you are,,

Sakusa scrunches his nose as he walks into your classroom, it’s late in the afternoon after practice and he found you sitting at your desk. You haven’t even shown that you noticed him walking in, you’re still hunched over your desk with your face buried into your arms. Sakusa quietly walks up to you, his footsteps are the only noises in the large room. 


“(Y/N).” He calls out to you, standing right at the edge of your desk. You don’t make any move. Sakusa sighs and pokes your shoulder with his finger. “(Y/N).” He tries again and gets no response, with a heavy sigh Sakusa pinches the collar of your blazer and lifts your face out of your arms. You don’t even try to hide as you emotionlessly stare at the floor, your boyfriend’s eyes widen at your swollen eyes and blotchy face. 


“What’s wrong?” Sakusa asks, he gently rubs smooth circles on your back. You simply shake your head. “Tell me, don’t be difficult.” He pushes and your eyes begin to water again. 

“Just go home Kiyoomi.” You attempt to push him away and Sakusa just feels his irritation growing.

“You poor thing, thinking that is going to work with me.” He continues to stare down at you and even goes as far as pinching your cheek with his fingers. Sakusa’s eyes narrow at your tears spilling on his fingers and has to refrain from grabbing a tissue and wiping it off. Instead, he uses his thumb to wipe the tears off your cheeks, internally grimacing at the feeling. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, (Y/N).” He warns and you puff your cheeks.

“Where to start,” You bite at him angrily, your nose scrunches in frustration. “I haven’t gotten my period in like two weeks, I failed a test today, my grades are dropping, you’re being an ass, I might be pregnant, my mother yells at me for breathing wrong, what do you want me to say Kiyoomi?” 

Sakusa takes a moment to digest all your words, his face curls in disgust at the mention of your menstrual blood. 

“Wait, pregnant?” He starts cautiously and you nod bitterly. Sakusa takes you by surprise by leaning down and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you recently and that I have been making things difficult for you.”

Sakusa frowns he notices that even more tears are now streaming down your face. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He tries to reassure you but you only shake your head. “Yes, you are. We will figure this out.” Sakusa grabs your cheek to force you to look at him, it’s a promise. 

On your way out to walk home, Sakusa stops by the bathroom to wash his hands and in turn, you also go to the bathroom. You thought you felt that familiar feeling between your thighs but pushed it off as something else. However when you got to the bathroom and saw the disgusting mess in your panties that you had grown accustomed to over the years you can’t help but scream. 

“(Y/N) w-what’s wrong?!” Sakusa barges into the bathroom and you tap your feet against the tile floor. 

“I got it!!!” You exclaim and Sakusa continues to run his head worryingly. 

“Got what?”


“My period!!!” You’re met with silence and footsteps of your boyfriend retreating out of the bathroom. You still have a lot more to figure out about Sakusa Kiyoomi but you know for a fact that he is going to jump you the second you leave the bathroom.

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima…… this brat,,,, as oyakags likes to say ‘Tsucki’ love that genius

He would be relatively calm about the entire situation 


I genuinely think he would handle it well and that is because he can’t believe it

He seriously does not believe there is any way you are pregnant like he doesn’t hit it raw every other day

Tsukki would get you pregnancy tests and hide them in his bathroom, force you to take them while he stands there watching you pee on the stick like 0.0

Please, this bitch is not playing

He’d be so worried about how freaked out you are and would probably make fun of you to try and make you feel better

He would use his humor to calm you down, sneak in insults here and there because it would take your mind off of the whole situation 

“Well, maybe if you weren’t ugly this wouldn’t have happened” “UGLY?! TSUKISHIMA KEI YOU DIDN’T THINK I WAS UGLY WHEN YOU WERE HITTING IT FROM THE BACK RAW LAST NIGHT!”

When the tests come back negative, Tsukishima will have to hold back from tackling you. He’d scold you for being so careless and for worrying him so much, throwing pathetic insults around but it's only because he is so relieved and doesn’t know how to react. Just shut him up and bring him into a hug, little baby needs his love HAHAH

“I think we should break up.”


“Huh?” Tsukishima looks up from his textbook, his eyebrows furrowed as he glares at where you sit on his bed. You don’t look at him and instead focus on his dinosaur figurines along the walls. 

“It would be better if we broke up, we are both always so busy anyway, not to mention we are going to different colleges in a few months.” You shrug and try to ignore the way your eyes prick with tears, Tsukishima places his textbook down and turns his chair around to face you. His face is hard, had this been two years ago Tsukishima would have let you go without a second glance. Now though? After all you’ve been through, now you want to break up? Yeah, no.

“We’re going to college in the same city, busu, and last I checked you never wanted to break up.” Tsukishima mocks your voice as he repeats the words you say to him late at night whenever you think he is asleep. “Is this some sort of April fool’s prank?” He asks and turns back to his desk. 

“No, I-I don’t want to be with you anymore!” You tell him, voice raising slightly, and Tsukishima has to pretend like his heart didn’t just crack a little bit.

“Right,” He shoos your words away with a flick of his wrist. “I’m not letting you break up with me.” His words should make you feel happy, and deep down they do but not now, instead, they only make you cry. You cover your face with your hands and let out the sob that had been creeping up in your throat. At your cries Tsukishima stiffens and pushes his schoolwork away, almost immediately he walks over to his bed and stands over your curled up form. “You really hate me this much?” He tries to laugh but his words come out bitterly. You shake your head profusely at him.

“You’re going to hate me.” You cry and your shoulders shake with each sob and Tsukishima tilts his head at you. 

“(Y/N), you know I already hate you.” Tsukishima jokes, he is really trying his best to comfort you, he’s rubbing your shoulder and letting you know he is there for you by standing close to you. Fuck, he doesn’t know what he is doing. 

“I-I think I’m pregnant.” You yell out and Tsukishima stiffens, quickly taking his hand off of you like you burned him. 

“Huh?” He pauses and blinks before leaving the room. You start to think he ran away and that thought only makes you cry harder. Tsukishima comes back not even a minute later and throws a box at you.��

“Don’t make assumptions, idiot.” He scolds and you pick up the box and squint at it with watery eyes.

“What is this?” You ask him and Tsukishima scoffs before walking over to you, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest to walk you towards the bathroom. 

“It’s a box of pregnancy tests, Akiteru’s girlfriend left them last month.” Tsukishima gags at the thought of his older brother and longtime girlfriend, he did not need that image in his head. You continue to sniffle as tears stream down your face and Tsukishima sits you down on the ledge of his bathtub. “You’re okay, why are you crying? I’m right here. You’re fine (Y/N).” 

Tsukishima was right, you really were fine. All the tests came back negative and you got your period a week later. However, Tsukishima never let you live it down and has been scolding you ever since for being so careless. He’s just mad you made him worry so much~

~

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 21

part 1 | part 20 | part 22

a/n: annnnnnd another Day of the Black Sun chapter!! I promise this is the last one. I’m really just putting Y/N through it in these last few chapters aren’t I? writing the chapter like this was not the original plan but i had a dream about it and then a very timely anon asked me if y/n was going to be in a Fire Nation prison and I figured... hey why the fuck not you know?

Also! Haruki is Y/N second oldest brother, and again, Ren is her oldest. 

tw: verbal/physical abuse, fighting. Yes, her dad was always going to be this bad of a guy, I just never planned on them meeting up again.

Y/N huddled between Sokka and Katara as the Fire Nation army dropped bombs over where they hid. Aang and Toph had resurrected a small cliff jutting out of the mountainside to protect them, but even that was cracking under the pressure. 

When the bombing stopped, Katara crawled out first. She pointed out towards the water. “Why aren’t they turning around and attacking? They’re headed towards the beach.” 

Aang joined Katara, Sokka and Y/N at the edge of the path. The four of them watched as the airships seemingly retreated from them, headed in the completely opposite direction. 

“They’re going to destroy the submarines!” Aang shouted suddenly. 

As Y/N watched the Fire Nation balloons fly towards the beach, hurrying to destroy their only way out, the pit in her stomach grew larger. After the rest of the failures of today, Y/N wasn’t even surprised. 

“We’re trapped,” she muttered. 

“How are we going to get out of here now?” Sokka asked no one in particular. He was voicing the same question they all had. 

“We aren’t,” Hakoda said from just under the cliff. He leaned on Bato heavily, still holding his injured side. 

“Then we have to stand and fight,” Sokka furrowed his brow in determination. “We have Aang, we can still win.”

“With the Avatar we could still win, but on another day.” Hakoda, with effort, took his arm from around Bato and pulled himself to his full, brawny height. “You kids have to leave.”

Leave? Y/N’s eyes widened at the thought. Was Hakoda possibly suggesting that they leave the rest of his fleet here to fend for themselves?

“What?!” Katara rushed forward to grab her father’s arms. “We can’t leave you behind. We’re not leaving anyone behind.” 

Hakoda bent down to look his daughter in the eyes. “You’re our only chance in the long run. You have to take Aang somewhere safe. You have to keep hope alive.”

Katara looked away from her father, back to her friends. Y/N could see the tears flooding her eyes at the thought of leaving her father behind–losing him–once again. Y/N’s heart ached for Katara. It ached for Sokka too. He was about to take on so much responsibility. He was also about to shove the full brunt of the blame for the invasion plan not working onto his own shoulders; Y/N could already see the guilt wearing on him with the way he looked at his father.

“The adults will stay behind and surrender. We will be prisoners, but we’ll all survive this battle,” Bato said, his voice morose. 

Y/N felt a rush of urgency roll through her body. As much as she could see that Katara and Sokka didn’t like the idea, they weren’t speaking up against it. No one had an idea that was better. Except for maybe Y/N. She couldn’t let the rest of them stay behind like sitting turtle-ducks, waiting to be picked up and imprisoned. She had to do something.

“No way. I’m not going to let that happen.” Y/N’s voice rang through the troops. She didn’t stop there, not after stunning everyone into silence. She approached Hakoda and Katara stepped away to stand next to him. “I can get you out of here.”

Sokka erupted. “You can’t stay behind! You’ll get thrown into prison. You can’t!” He grabbed her hand like he wanted to plead with her but Y/N was already twisting out of his grip. She didn’t need him to make this harder than it already was. 

“No! I can’t just leave knowing I could have done something,” She shouted at Sokka. Y/N turned back to Hakoda. “I know this island. There are forests and mountains and there are thousands of caves to hide in. I can take us there and then no one needs to get caught!” She stared into Hakoda’s eyes with each word she spoke. 

As much as she wished Hakoda would jump at the chance to save himself, he didn’t look convinced that it was worth risking Y/N’s freedom as well. He opened his mouth to speak, to no doubt turn Y/N’s offer down and send her on her way with her friends on Appa, with the adults left behind in the dust to suffer the consequences. 

But Y/N was faster. She spoke around the lump in her throat. “If you stay behind, you won’t live to see the end of this war. And I know that too.” Her voice was low enough that only those around her could hear her words; Katara gasped at her bluntness. 

Even then, Y/N was surprised when Hakoda gave a curt nod to her, much to Sokka’s disapproval. He didn’t have time to give Y/N the lecture he so badly wanted to because just then, The Duke hollered, “They’re at the beaches!”

Y/N turned around to watch in horror as the Fire Nation airships dropped bombs onto the submarines that they had ridden in not 30 minutes ago. They were completely and utterly decimated with so much excessive firepower that Y/N could smell the burning from where they were. With their only escape officially cut off, a nervous murmuring broke out among the troops, and suddenly Y/N was extremely anxious for herself. 

How was she supposed to get a group as large as theirs around in the jungle silently, looking for a hiding place? What had she just gotten herself into?

---

Their goodbyes were quick. They had to be. Katara hugged her first, squeezing her so tight that Y/N thought she would stop breathing. It was a welcome comfort. 

“I trust that you know what you’re doing.” Katara bit her lip. “As much as I hate the idea.” 

“This is our only chance,” Y/N replied. Because what else was she supposed to say? How could she comfort someone else and when she couldn’t even do that for herself.

Katara squeezed her arm. “I know.”

She left only to be quickly replaced by Toph who gave Y/N a very uncharacteristic hug. “You better come back soon. I can’t deal with all of Sokka’s whining while you’re gone.” 

It was meant to be lighthearted; something that would make Y/N giggle, but there was a seriousness to it as well. Did Sokka really rely on her company so much? They hadn’t been separated for more than a few hours since she had joined them. She didn’t want to think what a few days would do to either of them.

“You got it, Toph. Keep everyone safe for me, alright?”

The younger girl nodded and earthbent herself up to Appa’s saddle. 

---

Aang was still staring off at the burning submarines when Y/N approached him from behind, laying a soft hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. I told you, you’re going to have another chance at taking down the Firelord.”

Aang turned to look at her, his eyes were filled with tears. “Only because I have people sacrificing everything for me.”

Y/N nodded. “Sometimes–” she sighed and chewed on her chapped lips. She didn’t need to give the boy a lecture on the hardships of war. He knew far too much of that already. “We know what we’re doing. We want to do this for you. You’re the most important tile on the pai sho board, Aang.”

He shook his head like he didn’t believe her. “I’m taking everyone to the–”

“No.” Y/N broke in and looked away. “Don’t tell me where you’ll be. Just in case.”

Aang looked at her with sad, grey eyes, knowing exactly why she didn’t want to know the location of where he would be hiding out. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her before airbending himself to Appa. Y/N watched as he hid his head in a way so that he didn’t have to look at anyone that he was leaving behind; his shoulders shook with sobs. 

---

When Sokka approached her, Y/N unstrapped her sword from her back and held it out to him.

“What are you doing? You might need this.” He said, surprised. His voice was thick with unshed tears. Y/N could tell he was trying to stay strong at the thought of leaving behind so many. His jaw was set and he couldn’t quite look at her directly. 

 Y/N did the same, looking everywhere but Sokka’s eyes, after realizing that was the only thing that was going to stop her from crying in the moment. “I have my knife. Besides, this is assurance that I’ll come back to you. I wouldn’t let you keep it forever.” Y/N let out a watery laugh. 

She wrapped her arms around Sokka and hugged him like she’d never hugged anyone before. She felt so much more grounded when she was around him. She felt like she was finally accepted. It was so hard to let go of that feeling that she had been searching for her whole life. She wanted to remain there, bathed in warmth forever, but she knew she would have to let him go sooner than she wanted to.

“I’m sorry. I’ll see you later.” She whispered the words into his shoulder, because saying goodbye made it too real. 

A quick kiss to the lips and then Appa was gone, carrying her friends and disappearing in the smoke like they had never been there in the first place. Which is exactly what she wanted. 

Y/N allowed herself to take a shuddering breath in and out. She wiped at her tears with the back of her hands and turned to face the troop of warriors she was meant to lead to safety. 

“Let’s go.”

---

They moved as quickly as they could for a group of 20-some-odd warriors and a young girl at their helm. 

In those early years, before she lived at the palace, she would explore her new home in the Fire Nation with her brothers; before Ren joined the army and before Haruki got mean. That meant she knew the terrain well enough to get them around, but keeping them hidden, well that was a whole other story. 

Every time that Y/N heard a branch snap, her head would turn back expecting to see them overrun with Fire Nation soldiers, but it hadn’t happened. And the farther they got from the Royal Caldera City, the easier she began to breathe. That was until she heard shouting in the distance.

Their words weren’t discernible from where she was at, the wind was whipping too hard in the tops of the trees above her, but it was clear that they weren’t safe yet. She had the men pause and crouch down as she pressed a finger to her lips, signaling them to be quiet. It was a pointless motion, no one had said a word since they’d left the cliffs behind. 

“There’s some large caves about 100 yards ahead through the trees,” Y/N whispered to Hakoda. She clamped her lips together as she heard another yell, off in the trees. Much closer this time. 

“Why are you telling me?” Hakoda shook his head. 

“Because I’m going to go draw those soldiers away so you can take everyone there?” Y/N stood up and drew her knife. 

“That’s not a good idea, Y/N.” Hakoda warned.

Y/N wasn’t sure it was either, but she’d made it her duty to get these warriors to somewhere where they could hide. She made a promise to herself that she would do it. “I’m fast. I’ll meet you back there.”

Y/N took off before Hakoda could say anything else to her. 

---

Y/N found the soldiers. She hid between a fork of trees watching them traipse around making far too much noise to be any good at tracking. It didn’t matter though, if they saw them they’d capture them. Y/N chewed on a nail as she thought of a plan to lure them in the opposite direction just to give Hakoda and Bato extra time to lead their group to somewhere safe. 

Y/N flinched as she heard the snap of a twig behind her. She ducked further down into the brush, hoping that the black of her armor and the setting sun would hide her. 

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and Y/N whipped around with her knife ready to embed it in the poor soldier who decided to mess with her.

She pulled back just in time to save Hakoda’s face from a fresh wound. 

She dragged him down next to her in the brush quickly to avoid being seen. “Why did you follow me?”

“Why didn’t you go with the other kids?” He retorted.

Y/N looked away ashamed. She didn’t know how to answer him. How was she supposed to admit that if she had left she would have felt like she was running away. Even though she didn’t think that of Sokka or Aang, she felt it about herself. She never would have been able to justify leaving people behind for her own sake. She deserved it. It was her punishment to stay behind and risk her life. Punishment for leaving Azula, punishment for even thinking like that still, punishment for asking Azula to come with her, punishment for getting Suki thrown in prison. Y/N couldn’t stop the sins she had committed from filling her brain and swirling around until her ears rang. 

“So what’s your plan?” Hakoda asked, interrupting her from her thoughts.

Y/N hadn’t gotten as far as already having a plan made but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “You shouldn’t have come. You’re still hurt.”

“I’m not going to leave you out here alone.”

“You should,” Y/N muttered. 

“Come on,” Hakoda bumped her elbow. “I’ll go around to the other side and we’ll split up and lure them off in that direction.” Hakoda nodded his head in the direction of Capital City. “Then, we’ll double back and head to the cave.”

Y/N nodded and waited for Hakoda to get in position, then she took off running, cutting directly through the group of Fire Nation soldiers in front of her. 

Y/N made as much noise as she possibly could as she ran away from the soldiers, snapping branches and kicking bushes to make sure they were following her. She could hear the pounding of their boots as they chased her through the thicket and distant yelling as they ordered her to stop. Y/N’s heart raced everytime she slipped in the mud or stumbled over roots, thinking that every second would be the one where she was caught. 

What eventually caught her attention was the sound of silence in the forest. Well, as silent as a forest could get. Sure, she could still hear birds in the trees and the wind blowing, but the only sound of footsteps were her own. 

She spared a glance behind her and didn’t see anyone either and so Y/N began to slow to a jog. She was very suddenly aware that if no one was chasing her anymore, the only other person there was to chase was Hakoda. 

But then Y/N ran into a wall.

Except that wall was a person in Fire Nation armor.

And he was grinning like he had just won the lottery. 

---

Y/N pulled her knife but before she could take a stab at him, he grabbed and twisted her wrist, forcing her to drop it. She shrieked as her wrist popped; any more force and it would have broken. Y/N kicked the soldier in the shin and the man grunted, but never let go of her hand. She pulled and pulled against him, but he was easily twice her weight and it was no use. 

Y/N grabbed at his fingers and began pulling them off of her wrist. “Let go!!”

“Stop!” The soldier made a grab for her other hand and Y/N kicked out at him again, trying to keep him as far away as possible. “Stop kicking me!” He yelled.

“Then let go!!” Y/N growled as she grabbed his pinky finger and bent it backwards.

He did at that, yanking his hand away from Y/N’s fingers hastily. 

Someone grabbed her from behind and spun her around to face them. An orange flame danced much too close in her peripheral. Y/N froze in fear as a voice muttered, “If you keep that up, you’ll lose those fingers.” 

---

Y/N didn’t have much to say after that. She allowed the two soldiers to tie her hands behind her back and lead her to a small clearing where the rest of the soldiers waited. Kneeling in the middle, was Hakoda. 

He looked rough. There was a fresh bruise above his eye and there was fresh blood on his shirt; Y/N thought he might have reopened his previous wound on his side. 

Y/N was so embarrassed that she couldn’t even meet his eyes when she was shoved to the ground next to him. Instead, she focused on what was being said around them. Behind her, she could hear the soldier’s whispering about them. They knew who Hakoda was; that one was apparently pretty obvious with his Water Tribe armor, but her, she was an anomaly to them. 

“It doesn’t matter,” one of the soldiers who had captured her said. “They’re both going to the same place. The commander is going to want to talk to anyone who was possibly involved in the invasion. Then he’ll send them off.” 

---

Y/N wasn’t sure if she recognized the compound or not. She’d visited so many when her father was first moved to the Capital City and all of them looked the same. Large stone walls, look-out towers where guards were stationed, gates with metal bars as thick as Y/N’s arms at every entrance and exit. 

The sun was gone and it was pitch black, save for the lanterns lit around the grounds. The cool air had settled and Y/N shivered as her metal armor did nothing to keep her warm. Her hands were still tied behind her back so she couldn’t even wrap her arms around her torso to provide some windbreak. But then again, she also could have been shivering at the anticipation of what was going to come next. 

They were met outside a set of large doors by someone who was high ranking; Y/N could tell by the way the soldier at her side stiffened up at his arrival. He stood just outside of the lamp light and Y/N’s eyes strained to get a look at him. 

“Sir, we found these two running through the woods near where the invasion force was sighted.”

“And the others?” his voice was gravelly and familiar. Y/N held her breath awaiting the answer.

The soldier shook his head shamefully. “No sign of them.”

Y/N was able to relax for a second. Okay, the rest of them were still safely hidden.

The man took that moment to step out of the shadows and Y/N gasped. She knew him, and he knew her by the smile on his face. She flashed back to stuffy dinners at her house where they entertained army officers almost weekly. This was one of her father’s best friends, and if this man was here, he would be too.

“No matter.” He unfolded his hands from behind his back and grabbed Y/N’s chin gruffly. “Look who we caught.”

Y/N jerked her head out of his hand and glared. He pretended to not be perturbed and motioned for the other soldiers to take Hakoda away. 

Y/N freaked out. She thrashed around and did everything in her power to block the soldiers from even touching him. 

“You can’t take him!” she screamed. “Leave him alone! He wasn’t a part of this!”

It took two of them to hold her back.

“Y/N,” Hakoda said. His voice made her grow quiet, her legs felt like jelly underneath her. The look he gave her was grave and it made her heart thud with uncontrollable worry. “It’s okay. Don’t—“

They were already pulling him in the opposite direction they were taking her.

“I know!” She yelled back. He had to know that she would follow his instructions, he had to know that she would do everything in her power to keep quiet. She wasn’t going to turn on them at the first sign of trouble. Never. 

She chanted the words in her head like a psalm: Don’t say anything about Aang. Don’t say anything about the invasion. Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything.

---

Y/N was led gruffly through one set of doors and then another and shoved onto her knees in an office. She was left alone, which wasn’t at all surprising. She was about to get interrogated by the only man she’d never been able to fool. And he wouldn’t want anyone around to witness his disgrace of seeing his own daughter being the enemy.

The door behind her was opened so forcefully it nearly fell off the hinges and Y/N flinched. He took no time walking around her and leaning on the front edge of the desk in the corner. 

Y/N couldn’t see him though, she’d only heard the stomp of his boots on the floor. She had turned her face into her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting with bated breath for the yelling.

She could feel his eyes travel over her short hair, her black armor, the red clothes that she still wore; as if she couldn’t choose between familiarity or blatant treason.

With a stroke of bravery that came from within, Y/N took a deep breath and faced him. “Hi Dad.”

---

Y/N was sure flames were going to leap out of his eyes. He was dressed in all his Fire Nation armor as if he had just stepped onto the base from his ship. Y/N used to think it made him look important and regal, the high points on the shoulders of his chest-piece and the arm guards that had had the Fire Nation symbol up the sides in gold. All of that coupled with his build and height made him an intimidating man. Y/N wanted to be like him for so long; now it just looked like he was compensating for his own inadequacies. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her father’s voice shook with anger. Each word he said was clipped like a punch to the gut. 

“I’m saving the world.”

He scoffed. “You’ve always thought that you were more important than you ever were.” 

“I’m finally doing something for myself.” For some reason Y/N felt like she needed her father to see the reasoning behind her actions, as if he could understand them, he would be more sympathetic. But he’d never been sympathetic towards her. 

“This is the opposite of for yourself!! You’re working against us! Against your family! You’ve betrayed us all, worst of all you’ve betrayed me.” Y/N’s father began to pace in front of her. 

“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever disappointed you,” Y/N muttered. 

“I always knew there was something wrong with you. I thought when you became friends with the Fire Princess, you’d finally found a purpose, but you’ve always been weak-minded. You’re so easily swayed one way or another by the words of others.” 

“No one said a word to sway me in any direction! I made this choice for myself!” Y/N shouted defensively.

“It’s why you can’t firebend,” He continued, not listening to a word that came out of her mouth. “You’ve never been strong enough, you don’t have an inner fire.” 

Y/N sighed as the same song and dance of her childhood circled around her. Her father had always believed that the only reason she was a non-bender was because she simply wasn’t powerful enough to produce flames, not that it was possible she just wasn’t a bender. 

“Why does the conversation always lead back to–”

“Silence!” Y/N’s cheek stung as the back of his hand collided with it. 

 Her father stood in front of her and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You always make me so mad, Y/N.” he said, almost sadly. “I tried to take care of this weeks ago, the second I learned of your rebellion–”

“What?” Y/N whimpered, she looked up at him through wet eyelashes. “What do you mean take care of this? Did–did you send those men after me? To kill me?!”

“You think I wanted to?!” Her father shouted. “You’re a traitor. You turned your back on your nation. You’ve embarrassed me enough. What are they going to think of a commander who’s 15 year old daughter attempted to stage a coup with the Avatar and the Water Tribe savages?” 

Y/N felt lightheaded. She wasn’t even listening to his words anymore. Azula didn’t try and kill her, her own father did. She had blamed Azula for so many things and this was one thing that she was completely innocent of. 

Finally, he turned his back on Y/N. The action was terminal and unwavering. “No one can know you were involved. It will ruin my reputation and I’ll be damned if you do anything more to tarnish the family name.”

Y/N dropped her chin to her chest and let her tears flow freely, now that his eyes were off of her. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think that her father would do anything as drastic as this. She wouldn’t expect forgiveness from him, that just wasn’t his way, but he was still her father. 

What would he have done if Kaito had been successful in his attempt on her life? How could her father have gone home to Y/N’s mother and acted like he didn’t have a part in her death? Would it roll off like water on a duck’s back, or would he have regrets? 

The worst part was the waves of disappointment that rolled through Y/N’s body. She wrestled with anger and embarrassment for her part in it all. She fought her whole life to gain the approval of the man standing in front of her and with one fell swoop she had knocked down everything she had already built up as if it was nothing, not the blood, sweat and tears she had put into it for so long.

Nothing could ever remedy the choices she had made in her father’s mind. Once he put his mind to something, he wasn’t one to change it. And while Y/N still stood by them for being the right decisions, she couldn’t help but think of the possibilities that could be, had everything been different. The outcomes were endless, but one thing was always certain; her father couldn’t have ever really loved her if he was so easily able to dispose of her.

----

A/N: so where do you think she’s going? lmao, y’all get One Guess. sorry not sorry for the angst. 

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