#the last torture panel we swear
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Chapter 4: Girl U Want
[can also be read on AO3]
Summary: Rory and Nikolai are forced to hold off an attack on Botha's life, and its the return of an enemy the 141 has faced previously
Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, canon-typical violence, swearing, stabbing, wound tending, flirting via facetime
Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC - 3rd person POV (Rory Sinclair)
Word Count: 3.5 K
A/N: the further continuation of Rory's story, this follows and expands upon the COD: MW2 reboot canon. Told from Rory's POV. allusions are made to the mission "Recon by Fire", and it's the first appearance of Gaz in this fic!
October 29 2022 11:30 - Abidjan, Republic of CĂŽte d'Ivoire
Weapons fire riddled the building, streaks of daylight breaking through the pinholes pricked through the walls. Bullets ricocheted, carving trenches into the wood panelling, popping the twinkling bulbs of the string lights and blowing through the speakers causing them to smoke and sputter out sparks while the music died with a low, tortured warble.Â
The barkeeper ran for the backrooms, hiding out from the sudden burst of violence at his establishment, while Nik took cover by the door and Rory grabbed the edge of the table she was taking cover under with Botha, pulling it down hastily to flip it on its side, forming a barrier against the onslaught of lead being fired at them. âFucking hell!â she snapped, tugging at her jacket to get the material off of her. Slipping her handgun from the now easily accessible holster strapped to her shoulder, she called across the bar room, âHow much ammo have you got, Nik?â âHowever much they bring in,â he replied, tipping his head in the direction of the small force of soldiers headed in their direction, wearing matching outfits to the body that lay on the floor below the broken window.
Popping up out of cover, Rory took a brief moment to get a better look at what she was dealing with. Counting heads, checking what sort of firepower they were bringing down on her.Â
âBugger me sideways,â she muttered, dropping back down. âI count at least twelve heads out there, some of them armoured with plates, all carrying ARs.â
Last time the 141 had come up against Konni it wasnât out in the open like this, they werenât so obvious, they were disguised as police officers and paramedics. Apparently theyâd dropped those rules of engagement when it came to dealing with a quick severing of a loose end.Â
âPick off the ones we can with what weâve got,â she ordered, âTry to get them to waste their ammo on the way in, and we get close and personal as a last resort.â
âClose and personal with those fokkers?â Botha cocked his brow at her, less than impressed with her commands, staring at her as if she had gone mad.
âWe wouldnât be in this bloody mess if not for you. So kindly keep your gobby trap shut, and get into cover behind that bar so I have one less thing to worry about,â she barked before scuttling out of cover and patting down the body on the floor.Â
Besides the blood that now stained her hands, she managed to collect a smoke grenade and stashed it on her as well as the handgun strapped to his leg. It wasnât much, but every bit of assistance was critical in a one-sided fight like this where the odds werenât necessarily in their favour.
Crawling up to the window ledge, she peeked her head up and more bullet fire went off, tearing chunks out of the walls. Ducking quickly, she glanced over at Nik. âRight. Thatâs it. On me.â She gave the signal and he was quick to follow her lead.Â
Bullets volleyed back and forth, seeming to last forever, the car park becoming a war zone as casings tinkled on the hard cement, muzzles flared and sparked in the midday, and innocent civilians in the vicinity ran to take cover. Urban combat situations had always been her least favourite type of battle ground. Too many things could go wrong, too many variables left out of her control. Things could get bloody, brutal. And fast.Â
Despite the ferocity of the firefight â projectiles tearing into clothing, kevlar, and wood â when the dust finally settled, enough of an invasion force of highly skilled soldiers still remained.Â
Sharp shots of pain emanated down Roryâs arm from the pulsating, burning ache of her shoulder that was nowhere near ready to be dragged into a hand-to-hand combat situation. But alas, here she was. She caught herself reaching for the area where the left pocket of her tac vest usually sat carrying her brass knuckles, patting the phantom material and sighing. Unfortunately, in this case, sheâd come ill prepared for such an eventuality. The carbon of her empty handgun would have to stand-in improvisationally.
As the first Konni operatives breached their makeshift fortress, Rory hung back, slipping into the dark hallway before rolling the smoke grenade into the middle of the room, using the element of surprise as an asset. Tucking the material of her shemagh up over her mouth and nose, she watched as grey smoke pumped into the room, coiling wisps of it curling up towards the ceiling and spreading out towards every corner. The compact room now a foggy mess, with limbs protruding from it cartoonishly as soldiers coughed and sputtered. Grabbing her jacket left crumpled on the floor, she moved silently into the masses. Wrapping the material around one of the enemyâs necks, twisting it tighter, the body in her arms acted as a human shield and her jacket the reins. Like a battering ram, she used the gasping soldier, clawing at his throat while choking for air and sucking back smoke, to break through the group of operatives.Â
Tossing him back against the counter, slamming her knee up into his solar plexus, she rammed the gun repeatedly into his face with each forceful punch in the nose. Hot blood shooting out from his nostrils sprayed across her knuckles like the last glob of brown sauce from the bottle splattering onto the plate. Whipping the weapon back and forth against his face, the metallic stench hit her nostrils, struck by the coppery taste that followed sucking on a penny as she let the body slip free and slump to the floor.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the streak of an unidentified flying object passing by, only to be met by a heavy crack and a groan from the other side of the room. Splinters from a chair hurled by Nik at the face of one of the Konni operatives scattered the floor and toothpick shrapnel blew out in all directions. The solid remains of the wooden chair quickly picked up and tossed like a shot put at another manâs back by the Russian, winding them.Â
In the confusion, she was grabbed from behind, a large arm compressing her waist and squeezing. Entirely thankful for her sparring practice with Ghost, Rory found her entry, her elbow connecting under the operativeâs ribs, notching beneath plates and bone to find the soft middle. Sliding the tactical knife from his vest as his grip loosened, she shoved it up and into his armpit, stabbing at the axillary artery deep within the socket joint, carving away at him as the blade disappeared into layers of clothing, muscle, and flesh, only to reappear dripping in syrupy claret.Â
Each stab became simultaneously easier and more difficult as she continued to spear with abandon, the penetration lubricated, but the marrow deep throb in her shoulder made her grit her teeth with each grate of her bones through the muscle and tendon. Biting back a pain-induced moan, meeting with the chorus of grunts and wails of the man bleeding out on the floor, his ragged wheeze gave way to hitched breaths and then a wet, gurgling scream.Â
Wiping the arterial spray from her face with her arm, her attention moved back to the bar. Botha might have been shit about following her orders before, but he was certainly paying attention now that his life was dangling from a knifeâs edge â literally so, in this case. Hidden behind the wooden structure, he hadnât popped up like a prairie dog yet, maintaining his position under cover instead. She wasnât all that surprised he wasnât playing hero, heâd already promised he was out to cover his own arse before anyone elseâs. She moved through the ruckus and grabbed a bottle from the bar, tsking her tongue at the poor quality of the stuff served on premise, before smashing it against the wood countertop and slashing outwards towards the sound of the cracking tile under the weight of heavy boots behind her. Failing to land a hit, one large hand gripped tightly in her hair, her head slammed into the bar for her efforts, face dragged against the shattered glass littering the counter. A hoarse yell tore through her throat with the same shearing effect as the broken shards ripping through her skin. Wet, hot anger spilling forth from her veins drove her defense, and the bottle in her hand was promptly slammed into his thigh. Twisting it, she dug the jagged edges into the skin left, then right.Â
âĐĄŃĐșĐ°!â The expletive was spat in her ear as she delivered the pendulum swing of torment to his leg and the back of her head collided with his teeth in a one-two punch causing the x ray to stumble back.Â
Teeth bared, saliva stained pink, she smashed the broken bottle into his face, followed by a decisive punch to his throat. Fragile bone crunched and cracked under the force she used, crushing the windpipe. A slow, painful death at the hands of prey animal rage.Â
Her heart raced, her senses numbed, her vision tunnelled to lock onto her targets. The blood thundered in her ears so intensely it felt like even her eyes were pulsating with each thump through the capillaries that fed them. Once the adrenaline wore off, sheâd start feeling every wind up and hit.Â
Tomorrow would be hell.Â
Rory hissed and vaulted over the bar, grabbing a scoop of ice in a handful along the way, and held it to her shoulder. The numbing sting to her fingertips was almost a comfort â at least one part of her didnât feel like it was falling apart. Blood streamed down her cheeks in rivulets where she wiped the bits of glass away with her arm. She was a mess, tattered and torn, her breathing made more difficult with the smoke that still floated in the air. Â
Her focus was set on the weapons dealer sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest and his gun in his hands, finger left curled over the trigger. Glaring at him and the waste of perfectly good ammo clutched in his grip, she scoffed.Â
âDonât tell me you donât know how to use your own bloody product.â
He glanced over at her, sweat dribbling down his forehead and soaking his brow despite never lifting a finger. âCourse I do. But Iâm not some bloody soldier, am I? This is for protection,â he said, shaking the gun in his hands. âIt's defensive.â
âDefensive, my arse. Itâs a gun.â She held out her hand for him to willingly place the weapon into, directing him with the curl of her fingers. âHand it over.âÂ
Snatching the weapon from him, she checked the clip. Completely unused. âMightâve come in handy if youâd made this available earlier,â she grumbled, slotting the gun back together. âStay here.â
Crawling around the edge of the bar, she peeked around the corner, the force they had to contend with earlier had mostly been cut down, just the last few stragglers left who refused to go down. The heavies who had likely faced the same sort of environmental and physical survival training she had been through, the kind that taught a person to push through the pain.Â
Lining up her shots, she took a steadying breath, her arm shaking under the strain of her shoulder. There was no point in going for fancy, it was better to go for effective, leaving her to shoot each enemy soldier in the chest.Â
The rapid succession of weapons fire cut through the sounds of savagery, fists pummeling into skin and muscle. The ear-piercingly loud bang of each burst of gunfire was deafening in the small bar as each target left standing was taken down.
Ensuring no one was getting back up, Rory peeked out the open frame of the window, checking for anyone still waiting outside. But, just like upon arrival, it was a ghost town besides the bodies left to linger in the graveyard of the car park. âRight, coast is clear. Nik, mind grabbing Botha for me? The armâs out of commission and our guest needs to be handed off.â
Without question, the Russian reached down over the bar and dragged Botha to his feet, his hand gripping the other manâs collar like an animalâs scruff. âYou heard the Lieutenant. No point in arguing.âÂ
Swinging open the front door, walking out into the parking lot, Rory checked back over her shoulder. âThink you can get a clean up crew on this, Nik?â
He shrugged, his lower lip curling into a pout as he debated it. âNot a problem.â
âI see why Price keeps you on speed dial now,â she said, smirking back at him.Â
October 29 2022 16:00 - Safehouse
A cigarette dangled from her bottom lip, the smoke curling in the humid room with the thickness of paste as she paced back and forth in the bedroom. The door left ajar, allowing her an eyeline to where Botha sat in an old armchair in the other room, swigging back on a bottle of beer. Everything remained sweat slicked in the cramped apartment. Clothes damp, made worse with the weight of a quickly thawing bag of freezer burnt frozen peas that had been there for God knows how long draped over her shoulder, the plastic bag crinkling and crackling with every movement as she got in contact with the CIA operative Laswell had linked her up with for the transfer of the arms dealer in question to place him under protection.Â
The meeting was set for the next day, which gave them more than enough time for a quick patch up job before sheâd finally get to return to Stirling Lines and have to deal with Sydney â or rather, Dr. Macallen as she was known now â tearing into her for living too dangerously. Rory was a far cry from the stick in the mud corporal Syd had once known. Only had herself to blame for that, really. If Syd hadnât invited her out for drinks that night on leave, Rory would never have wound up meeting John.
With the call over, Rory walked out into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind her. The TV played at a quiet hum, the voices a droning whisper as they went over the latest sports scores on the news â English Premier League. It was like she had hardly left home at all. Tossing her mobile down on the empty seat of the couch beside Nikolai, she headed for the tiny bathroom.Â
Musty and dark, she flipped on the switch and was met by the sight of herself battered and bruised. Her cheek suffered the appearance of road rash, the skin raw and ragged with sliver-sized abrasions. Sighing, she stubbed out her cigarette in the basin and grabbed a cloth, rinsing it under the flowing water at the tap. Hunched in front of the mirror, she pressed the cold, wet cloth to her cheek, and with a hissed inhale between clenched teeth, let it moisten the dried and clotted blood that clung to her flesh, loosening it in order to slough it away.Â
The sting was the worst part, like a million little paper cuts all biting at her whenever touched by even the faintest of breezes. That same prickling twinge that chased up the nerves after nicking her leg in the shower with her razor but repeated again and again.
Couldâve been worse, she thought to herself, wiping away the flecks of blood. At least it didnât look like it would leave a scar. Her shoulder, on the other hand, was going to have to be looked at again. Hell, might even force her to have to get surgery on it this time. Rory shuddered. Nursemaid Price was hardly something to look forward to. She was never a fan of how much of a stickler he was for the stringent schedule of taking her proper medications, handing out the correct dosage just shy of the little certified paper cup, and making sure to take them with food when required. She dreaded catching a cold when he was about, it made him twice the mother hen he already was.
Leaning down, she splashed water on her face and turned off the faucet, grabbing the first aid kit tucked away to bandage herself up when she heard the faint vibrations of her phone on the couch in the other room.
âItâs Price!â Nikâs low boom carried over to her as she aligned the gauze on her cheek, gluing it down with the available medical tape.
âLeave it. Iâll ring him back.â
Or not.
The muffled sound of Nik greeting her partner over the phone made her groan. Bloody hell. As long as it wasnât the usual video call her and Price took part in during the evenings. Coming out into the living room, she realized she had been far too hopeful, catching a glimpse of piercing blue eyes on the screen of her mobile.Â
âWhat the hell happened, Ror?â Priceâs voice thundered.
She sighed and walked over to Nik, snatching the mobile from his hand. âThank you so much for that,â she muttered to the Russian quietly before heading back into the bedroom.Â
With the door firmly shut behind her, she continued, âRan into a spot of trouble. Apparently the missiles Hassan has weren't just a gift from the Russians.â She paused, sucking her teeth, waiting for the inevitable gruff growl as she dropped another thing in the Captainâs lap. âItâs Konni, John. They came for Botha.â
âKonni? As in Makarov? That Konni?â he snarled.
âExactly that, yeah.â Nodding, her eyes fluttered shut as she winced and took a seat on the edge of the bed.
His eyes narrowed at her through the screen, at the way she grazed her hand against the bandage on her cheek absentmindedly. âYou okay, sweetheart?â The distinct growl remained in his voice, but the way he looked at her softened.Â
âJust a few scratches, nothing to fuss over. Should see the other guys,â she added with a smirk.Â
He sighed and dragged his hand down his jaw, rubbing at the scruffy whiskers on his cheeks and the stubble on his chin. âFucking hell.â His voice a low rasp, âHowâd they get their hands on American missiles?â
âDonât know yet,â she said with a shrug. âIâm playing catch up with all this just the same, love. Iâm giving you answers as soon as I get them.â
âSomethinâ for us to keep an eye out for in Spain then. Wonder if Konni will be joininâ in with the narcos and AQ,â he muttered. âBloody brilliant.â
His snide tone not going unnoticed, the corner of her mouth started to curl into a half grin as she bit back on it. âCareful, youâre starting to sound just as sarcastic as I do.â
Brushing a hand through his hair, the lines in his face deepened as a smirk crept up on him. âLearned from the best, I sâpose.â
âYou did, indeed.â
On the screen, dark hair popped up from behind Priceâs shoulder, along with a toothy grin, as the Captainâs young protege leaned into frame. âThereâs the missus,â Gaz goaded. âHow are we this evening, Lamb?â
It didnât take a genius to note that she had clearly been through the mill considering the bandage on her cheek stained with blooming rust.
âJust peachy.â
âSure looks it.â
âSod off,â Price gruffed, elbowing the sergeant out of the way.
Rory laughed. âWhatâs got our Gaz with a pep in his step?â
âGhillie suits,â he replied flatly.
âGhillie suits, eh?â Her brow lifted and she couldnât stop the shit eating grin that pulled at her mouth. âWell, letâs just hope you arenât left picking clay out of your beard like last time. Iâm not there to suds you up and trim your whiskers, am I?â
Price rolled his eyes, his face stern as he sighed â a quiet grouse at her constant teasing. But that didnât hide the pinkish hue invading his cheeks. With a sharp clearing of his throat, the cold, resolute Captain returned. âAnd what about Botha?â
âWhat about him?â
âNearly washed your hands of âim yet?â
âNearly,â she said, glancing at the door, looking forward to being free of the burden. âHand off is tomorrow, then Nikâll fly me back to Stirling Lines. Can only imagine how much paperwork in triplicate is waiting for me there.â
âThe life of an officer,â he mused, heavy brow furrowing.
âYeah, almost forgot that was part of it. Wanted to stay far away from a desk job, and now look at me.â
âIt suits you, Lieutenant.â
âThank you, Captain,â she said, purring out his rank as if it were an endearment.
âAnd sweetheartâ?â His powder blues locking onto her, the way they would when he was uttering a command. âJust make sure itâs not Nik greetinâ me on the screen tonight when I call again, yeah?â
She snickered, the implication clear about the type of call it might be. âWill do.â
âThaâs my good girl.â
âIâll see you later, my darling.â And with the blow of a kiss at the screen, she ended the call.
#call of duty#cod fanfic#cod mw2#cod nikolai#john price#kyle gaz garrick#oc: rory sinclair#oc: niel botha#skelly writes#fic: shadow dance#chapter 4
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The Betrayal
Makarov has been located Task Force 141 is able to have the jump on him. So they thought, little did they know that there was a small detail that they have missed.
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Swearing, Angst, and Mentions of Pregnancy
Yuri was correct, whatever he got out of Shepard led us to where the next meeting spot where be Makarov is going to be at. It was at Prague, Czech Republic, his convoy would be meeting inside a large building. Ghost and Price would be on the East side of the building, inside one across the street. Gaz and Soap would be outside, blending into the crowd. Yuri and I will be perched inside a constructed church, being the eye in the sky. My sister and Nikolai on stand by for emergency pick up.
It was cold outside, snowing just a small bit, I kept watching the smoke leaving my lips from the tempature. âI'll never forget my granddad's last words to me just before he died: "Are you still holding the ladder?"â
It was quiet for a moment before I snorted. âReally Sargent?â Price asked over the comms.
It has been 2 hours since we have been waiting. âThought we could use a joke sir.â
âThat wasnât too bad.â Ghost added, I could see him shaking his head.
âYou want another one?â Soap asked waiting for a responds.
âDo we have a choice?â Gaz asked sounding a bit annoyed.
I chuckled looking through my scope. âI donât think so.â I mumbled looking over at Yuri who was dead set looking outside.
I took note when we arrived how Yuri wasnât as talkative let alone looking anywhere but that building. He was tense, angry even. âYou alright?â I asked looking over at him.
Yuri didnât budge. âJust tired is all, wanting him dead.â
Him. He didn't have to explain who he was talking about. I have been wanting Makarov dead as well. âSame here,â I said quietly. âHe has been torturing all of us enough.â
âYeah.â He whispered, I looked at him, I could tell that he was truly upset about something. He looked down at me quickly getting it together.
I was about to say something before I could say anything Price interrupted us. âAll Bravo the convoy is here, do you have eyes on Makarov.â I looked through the scope watching as 4 black SUVs pulled into the roads.
It was quiet for a moment until the second car, it looked like him, the black hair all messed up his beard. Got him. âI have eyes.â I said through the comm Yuri shuffling.
A bullet went flying pass my head. âFuck!â I yelled glancing to see a shining spot. Sniper.
âWhat happened?â Ghost asked before shots were being fired.
âAmbush!â Soap yelled grunting.
I shot the sniper before he could pull the trigger and kept shooting through the windows of the building. They were everywhere, I heard as people were screaming below, running away from the fight. When I looked back at the SUV Makarov wasnât there.
âAll Bravo, Makarov is out of sight, does anyone have a visual?â I yelled shooting some men that were looking through windows that were shoot down at Gaz and Soap.
âNegative! HowevâŠâ Ghost started to say before Yuri froze.
I glanced over at him for a moment. âDid you hear that?â He asked, I tuned everything out to hear it. Ticking.
My heart froze. My comm wasnât picking up the others. There was a static thenâŠâYuri, you shouldnât have come here my friend.â Makarov came through our comms.
I snapped my head, standing up quickly. âYuri?â I asked before hearing the ticking stopped. I grabbed Yuriâs vest and threw him out the window. âGo!â I yelled as I jumped with him, however when the explosion went off, I wasnât clear.
I felt the heat come on my back, I squeezed my eyes shut but opened them quickly. I saw myself falling onto wooden boards, feeling the wood break beneath me. I went through one panel and smashed my head into a pole. Everything turned black.
My ears were ringing and faintly heard screaming. I tried opening my eyes but couldnât, it was cold. âFox,â I faintly heard. âFox wake up!â Yuri.
My eyes slowly opened and I moaned feeling faint pain. When I moved my head everything started to hurt, I tried to move my leg but it didnât move. âYouâre going to be fine.â Yuri said frantically looking everywhere.
I coughed tasting some iron, when I noticed it was blood, I looked around me. Horror is what I saw. My leg was beneath by some debris, blood stained my uniform, dust, dirt, the one thing that made me feel absolute panic was the bar in my side. It looked small, skinny, little tall, it looks like it broke off somewhere. Once I registered what was happening, I felt the most extreme pain. I screamed. âSoap!â Yuri yelled I looked over on the other side and Soap was running towards me. Tears streaming my face.
Panic was all over his face. âSteaming bloody jesus,â He whispered before kneeling next to me. I need to tell him about Yuri, he knows Makarov. I tried to grab onto him but he shook his head placing my hand down. âNot now Lass.â My hand was covered in black ash and blood.
His voice was faint, sure he was yelling but I groaned in response. âWe gotta lift up this rubble.â Gaz.
I looked around but looked back up at Soap. âSoap,â I whispered but he stood up and helped Yuri and Gaz lift up the rubble. I screamed in pain as I felt something being pulled out of my leg. âStop!â I yelled it hurt too bad.
âFuck,â Gaz said as I felt someone put pressure on my thigh. âShe is losing too much blood we got to get her out!â
âGhost Price this is Soap we need to get out of here now!â Soap yelled, I still had the comms on.
âWhere is Fox? Yuri?â Ghost asked panting, I heard gun fire in the background.
Soap knelt next to me looking at me. He was white, he didnât look normal. âFox is down, she is losing too much blood!â
âWe have a van be ready!â Price yelled.
The pain was too much, it was cold, and now feeling tired. âLass hey,â I felt light taps on my cheek. âStay with me.â Gunfire came above us. âYuri cover fire!â He looked up then back down at me.
I just mumbled, I need to tell him. âSoap. Yuri.â I whispered.
âHe is right here,â Soap said before snapping his head up. âWe got to get her up. Be careful of the bar, do not have it move in any way Yuri!â
Before I knew it I was lifted up, I moaned as I felt being bounced back and forth. The gunfire? What happened to the gunfire? The world around me going by quickly. I felt sick, I coughed feeling saliva leaving my mouth. âSoap,â He looked down leaning me closer asking to say it again. âYuri knows Makarov.â
Before Soap could say anything I heard doors open. âGhost.â
âŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ.
Hell broke loose way too fast, Fox acknowledged on seeing Makarov and then boom he was gone. The church she was in exploded and he watched as she flew out of the window and Yuri. Simon was panicking he wanted to run that way but was stuck, bullets flying past Price and his head.
âDo you have eyes on Fox and Yuri?â Price yelled through the comms.
âNot yet Cap, people are losing their minâŠâ Soap said before grunting.
It was quiet for a moment. God please have her be okay, he was trying to stay focused. âGhost,â He snapped his head over at Price. âSee that van?â
âOn it!â He yelled as he sprinted over to the van, hearing Price behind him.
âPassenger Lieutenant!â Price yelled as Ghost covered him to get into the driver seat. Once the enemies where down he ran behind the van and opened the doors.
âWhere is Fox? Yuri?â He asked, truly all he cared about was Allison, is she alive.
It was a moment before Soap came through. âFox is down,â His heart dropped. She is fine. âLosing a lot of blood.â
Before he could say anything Price started the van and slammed the gas. âWe have a van be ready!â
He watched through the window, all of the debris and the bodies on the ground. It was a surprise. They knew they were here, how? Simon didnât fucking know. They had the jump, maybe Shepard knew that they knew. âGhost open those doors, we got to get them in here!â Price yelled, he nodded and turned to open the doors.
When he did, he felt like the world stopped. No. Allison was being carried by Soap, she was leaned into his chest blood coming out of her mouth, her forehead, but most of all a fucking bar through her side. She was covered in debris and dirt. He backed up as Yuri went around to the passenger seat and Soap and Gaz coming in. Simon moved over helping them place Allison down.
She was more pale than she usually was. âShe is conscious still but we have to stop the blood!â Gaz yelled gripping her thigh.
He looked over her, her thigh had a gash it was up from her knee to the middle of her thigh, the fucking bar with blood staining around it, rips through her uniform was everywhere, black charcoal stains, dust, dirt, the gash on her head. When he reached her eyes were half lidded, she was looking at him, a bruise already forming on her cheek up to her eye, she slowly lifting her hand up.
âSimon.â she whispered, her voice strained, he grabbed her hand.
âNot now,â He grumbled placing it on her chest before looking over at Soap who was staring at him. âMake sure there arenât anymore injuries,â He stood up looking for a rag anything. He saw a shirt folded on a seat behind the passenger seat. He pulled out his knife and ripped it handing it to Gaz. âTie her thigh!â
âSimon,â He heard her voice. He couldnât look at her, his heart breaking every fucking time he stared at her eyes, the skin fading her color. Bringing the god awful memories of his family. Everything he thought of a future with her was fading like her heart rate. Right now he has to keep her breathing. Keep her with him. Alive. Warm. âSimon,â He felt a small grip, he looked down to see her bloody hand gripping his arm. He saw that her hand was also forming a burn. He grabbed her hand and looked down. âI love you.â
Soap snapped his head up, Gaz glancing slightly before wrapping quickly, Price looking through the rear view mirror, Yuri didnât move looking straight, but Simon, he stopped breathing. His world stopped. No she can not fucking say this now. Allison was smiling at him. âI love you.â She repeated reaching up to cup his balaclava, he felt the blood on her hand sticking to his mask.
âNo,â He whispered shaking his head. âAllison, donât say that.â He knew once those words left her mouth, she had to be saying it for a reason. The reason for not being able to say it later. The reason that she can feel herself dying. The reason to tell him she cared deeply for him.
Her eyes were starting to close. No. No. No. Panic was running through his veins. âHey! Hey!â He yelled down at her, gripping her hand.
She smiled at him again, trying to open those eyes. âI lovâŠâ Her hand falling from his grip.
Simon couldnât process that her hand dropped out of his, no he cupped her face. âBaby,â He whispered leaning down close. âHey open your eyes, come on.â
Simon searched for her eyes, to see if they would flutter open. Or move a least a inch but nothing. âAllison,â he whispered, he shook her a little. âSweetheart, come on.â Panic was starting to set in.
She isnât waking up. She isnât waking up. Simon felt his heart breaking more and more. He canât lose her not now. Please. Please. âPlease.â He didnt noticed he was begging out loud but he snapped his head up. âPrice!â He yelled.
Price looked behind him. âWe are 5 minutes to the hospital!â
Anger boiled over. âMake that faster!â He demanded looking back down at Allison then at Soap. âWhat are you fucking looking at?! Look to see if she has more injuries Sargent!â
Soap snapped out of his trance, working on Allisonâs arm. Simon looked back down and brushed a strand of her hair back. Her pulse you donkey. He placed his fingers on her neck, he was shaking. His heart stopped no. âAllison please.â He begged, he felt a small pulse, he sighed with relief, starting to rip more of the shirt handing it to Soap.
Soap looked up at him. âLt, I donât know if she will make it.â His voice was soft and low.
Not going to make itâŠLike death. Simon kept pushing in the back of his head of his family once again. He is failing her like he did with his own fucking blood. Yesterday, he wanted to say I love you to her, while he helped her shower after having her against the wall. The soap smell hitting his nose and his hands roaming her body. Her body close to him, he never had felt safe in his life before. He was content, he wasâŠhappy.
Now it was being taken away, all of it. He stroked her face with one of his fingers. He couldnât lose her. She had to fight. He thought of that fucking Hallmark cabin. They could settle somewhere in the UK or hell even in the US. They would be sleeping in bed together, holding each other, giving small kisses, sayingâŠHis heart stopped. He didnât even get to say how he loves her.
Price slammed the brakes as Yuri got out of the van. He could hear yelling and running. When he shot his head up the back of the van opened with nurses and a gurnee. Ghost got up and helped Soap pass her to them, they rushed in Ghost following close behind before one of them put a hand on his chest and shook their head, speaking Russian.
âThey said you canât go to stay.â He turned around to face Yuri.
Rage rolled over, Simon walked up to Yuri grabbing a handful of his uniform and slamming him up against the wall. âHow are you fucking fine?â He yelled in Yuriâs face. He felt someone touch his shoulder, he elbowed off whoever it was before slamming Yuri into the wall again. âAnswer me!â
âSimon,â Price yelled walking into the doors. Simon snapped his head over to see security was next to Price but he placed his hand out. âStand down.â
Simon wanted to throw Yuri to the ground and fucking kill him. He wasnât being passed onto the hospital staff. No he was fucking standing, not dying. Simon didnât even notice that Yuri was off the ground until he let go of him. When he turned around to see Soap on the floor holding his nose before standing up, he felt guilt. More anger at himself.
Soap didnât look angry more, upset? Sad? Mercy? Simon couldnât point it out, he didnât know what he was thinking all Simon could think about was Allison. The security guard asked a question and Yuri answered, they walked away leaving them alone. âI am going to find a private room yeah?â Yuri asked looking over at Price.
Price nodded before walking to Simon. âTake a walk.â He ordered before following Yuri. Soap placed his free hand on Simonâs shoulder as Gaz walked to follow Price.
âI will be here mate.â He said muffled from holding his nose.
Simon nodded before changing the channels to where Nikolai and Kat were on. âIâll call Kat.â Before walking outside, he heard sirens going off, and the smoke in the distance where they were at.
Simon took a deep breath. He didnât even know what to say to her. Come say goodbye? Come wait until we are told that she is gone? Your family is dead? You failed? He failed? A knot formed in his throat. He cleared his throat before pressing the button. âBravo 0-7 to Hawk how copy?â
âThis is Hawk copy.â She said through the comms.
âItâs Allison.â Simon said, trying not to make it longer than it needed to be.
Simon sent her the location of the hospital and Hawk was here before even an hour of Simon telling her. She walked in with pure panic, Yuri was able to get us a private room to discuss updates with Laswell. Simon was in the back of the room watching everything but not acknowledging anything happening. It was too long that Allison has been in surgery, 6 hours.
There could be problems that have hit, the deep cut in her thigh, could of hit an artery. Bleed out. The bar in her side spleen rupture. Bleed out. Her falling from that height she could have ruptured her kidneys. Kidney failure. Everything that could have happened or happened, could be the thing to have her dead. Thatâs all Simon could think about, is all the outcomes.
Hawk snapped her head over at Price. âHow did this fucking happen?â She snarled, slamming the door behind her.
Price sighed before rubbing his hand over his face. âWe wanted to wait until you got here to figure out exactly what happened.â
Hawk looked over at Yuri. âYou were there, what happened?â She asked.
Yuri was about to speak before Soap mumbled something. No one heard what he said. âWhat was that Sargent?â Price asked, looking over at him.
Soap chuckled. âI think the question we should be askin is how do ya know Makarov?â
Simon snapped his head over leaning off the wall. âWhat?â He growled out.
Yuri looked over at Simon with panic. âIâŠâ
Simon started to walk over to him but Price stood in between them. Price turned to face Yuri. âYou better explain fast before I let Ghost kill ya.â
Yuri watched as Simon was ready for the word, oh how he wanted to fucking pounce, rip his throat out, gut him, anything. Simon has lost everything in his past, when Allison came into his lifeâŠHe remembered back in Mexico when she asked what the sex meant.
âNo strings attached yeah?â
He could tell that she didnât want that but she agreed. Simon wanted more but he couldnât give more. He didnât deserve her. She was malicious when fighting their foes but towards them, the team, himâŠshe was kind. Then time skip to the cabin. It was the first time in a very very long time he took all his clothes off while fucking someone.
Simon watched her eyes softened and looked at him with such love. LoveâŠthat is what she showed. He never had felt more comfortable around someone. Love towards someone.
That is what Simon has thought about the no string attached, if she asked now it would be something more. Wishing he did. However, it could change, she could be taken away and SimonâŠWell Simon would just be Ghost again. Right before Yuri could begin a doctor came in. âCaptain Price?â He asked his accent deep.
Price looked over at Simon. âCome on.â He whispered then turned to Hawk. âYou too, watch him Soap Gaz, if he moves you have permission to knock his ass out.â
âAye.â Soap said watching Simon leave the room with the doctor, Hawk, and Price.
The door shut and Simon prepared himself. She is dead. She is dead. She is dead. She isâŠ
âStable.â Simon was snapped out of his trance as he looked over at Price.
The doctor waited for a response, Hawk sighing with relief. âHowever, she has a lot of recovery. Lots of fractures but no bones broken. The blood lose was extreme, since you are related to the patient and if your blood isâŠâ
âWe have the same blood type.â Hawk said interrupting.
âGood,â He said smiling. âIs she married?â
Price looked over at Hawk and she shook her head. âNo.â Hawk responded.
âBoyfriend?â Hawk made a quick glance at Simon and shook her head. His heart dropped. âWell,â The doctor sighed. âThen this might become a surprise to you all.â
Simon mentally shook his head. He knew, why else would he mention the husband or boyfriend? âThe patient is pregnant.â
#simon âghostâ riley#simon ghost riley x allison fox lawson#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 3#cod mw 3#simon riley x oc
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Last Stand of the Wreckers, Part 1/5(?)
Okay so, we know who Kup is, we know who Springer is
NOW WE'RE READY
Okay, I know I say this blog was a choose not to warn experience, but I really feel like no one should walk into Last Stand of the Wreckers cold. General warnings for a lot of robot gore (I MEAN IT), torture, death, dismemberment - it's not a good situation
I will be trying to spare you guys the worst of it but it gets, well, there's no way this could have been published if it'd used humans instead of robots. Err I mean published without getting slapped with a Mature rating which they realllly wouldn't have wanted to get
we open on Garrus-9 Garrus-9 is, as it says, an Autobot penitentiary specifically, it's for Autobot criminals, though there are some Decepticons there and it's currently under attack Fort Max here is the warden
we are currently roughly in the same time frame as All Hail Megatron
for those who aren't familiar, basically the Decepticons hacked all the Autobot stuff and attacked everywhere at once
Max talks about how he's gonna find whoever sold them out
we cut over to a Decepticon dude
he gets interrupted
"Wow. Such ambition."
iiiits Overlord!
all the Decepticons freak out
"this isn't happening this isn't happening"
the dude up there introduces himself as the one in charge. His name is Skyquake
Overlord: well as i'm sure you've guessed, Skyquake, the game changes. Now
he's taking command because unlike Megatron, he's got plans for this place
Skyquake clearly has a death wish as he asserts that he's the one in command here
"Oh, SkyquakeâŠI did try." RIP Skyquake, he's dead
Overlord rallies the Decepticons
"Let me show you how it's done!"
sidenote: Overlord is the big reason for my vendetta against Transformers Lips which is much stronger than my animus for Teeth
we see various scenes of the prison being overrun
rip max (he's not dead)
Time for Overlord to give a speech
Overlord: I think I'm going to like it here
he says this as energon flies
the energon, of course, being the blood equivalent yeah those caligula vibes are coming across nice and clear
as a side note as you can kind of see the pages (edges between panels) are kind of an offwhite i like it an offwhite with faint red stains in various places⊠and then it goes back to regular white when the flashback's over
we now move over to the Wreckers
it's 8 months before the present
"Look what you've done!" screams some green dude
okay, these guys are actually in training/on the shortlist to becoming Wreckers
Ironfist apologizes to Dipstick
there are then more explosions as Rotorstorm shows up
the Optimus-looking dude swears at him
oh I think Optimus-looking dude is Pyro
the ship to pick them up is here
"Good Riddance" says Dipstick
Pyro salutes Dipstick and says "we'll be seeing you, sir"
this guy here is Rotorstorm
it's VERITY!
unfortunately the curse of 'can draw either humans or transformers' has struck
well ok im being mean to Roche here, I've seen worse human art from other TF comic artists i would have less objections to this if he had actually just gone to a lingerie site and looked in the sports bra section this was done in what, 2010? product pictures exist
anyways, how did she get here? why is she on ultra magnus' ship? this means he's been to earth before the current canon, why on earth did he pick her up? NONE OF THAT EVER REALLY GETS EXPLAINED SHE JUST SHOWS UP HERE note from future bluejay: i did manage to find something but it was still kind of ??? Verity is a character from the beginning of phase 1, she basically sets the plot into motion she was part of the group with Hunter and Jimmy Pink
"Uncle Magnus will see you later"
lol
yes. somehow the genderless (at this point) alien robots have sexism. roll with it. Verity points it out, rolling her eyes.
so she's been here a year, okay also the little alien tattoo she got in honour of hunter (since he was conspiracy theorist) (here was the point we went on a fun tangent AU where Verity kind of stole the Ultra Magnus armour and went around pretending to be him. Might make a separate post to elaborate on that)
Verity: no im a valuable team member, i'll be tagging along
Rotorstorm: you're not a Wrecker
"None of you areâŠ" says Springer, coming into the scene
If you're having trouble telling characters apart, don't worry, it took me like 3 separate rereads to be able reliably identify characters in this comic.
I successfully have transferred the pattern recognition skills I honed reading transformers comics over to 40k.
Ironfist squees when he sees Kup
Verity: pff he changes his oil like everyone else
Springer is here to give us some exposition
Springer talks about how things have been pretty rough for the autobots lately
but everyone here has proven themselves
they've all earned their shot at becoming wreckers
Flashback time
we're back at Garrus-9, 2 years ago
a badly damaged autobot car is racing along, being shot at by some kind of aircraft yelling 'faster, autobot, faster!'
If Overlord takes part every time, the verdict will always be the same
anyways I'm going to tldr but basically the Decepticons are hunting the Autobots who were prisoner for sport and also because Overlord wants them to
Overlord is mercurial and just as likely to kill his own people
literally no one is having a good time here except Overlord
back to the present
Ironfist randomly blacked out
everyone crowds around him, concerned
Ironfist: IM FINE
so, Ironfist is a huge wreckers nerd and by that I mean, he literally writes propaganda about them that gets disseminated to the wider Autobot army because he's such a fanboy
Topspin and Twist Twist snicker about being classified
Rotorstorm: owo i didn't know you guys made jokes
the twins banter about the only thing being special about them is how they've saved each others lives so many times
"so stop bugging us for information we're just regular dudes" spoiler: they are not just regular dudes
Rotorstorm changes the subject and asks Pyro why he stole Optimus's look
Ironfist leaves only to run into Springer, who asks if he's okay
haha of course he's fine
Springer thinks to himself that he's going to have to keep an eye on that one
Kup pops up saying he needs to keep an eye on himself
Springer: who?
Kup brings up that they're going to Garrus-9âŠ
time for a flashback!
we open on one transformer punching another
there's energon
"Alt modes are for wimps!" the Autobot says as he pummels the Decepticon before Overlord's throne
"Please, Kickoff, you're an Autobot!"
"Know what that means in this place?"
"Nothing!" says Kickoff as he rips off this dude's head
Overlord is pleased
"and I will allow you to choose your reward"
there's a focus on Kickoff's dazed face and you know what I'm not gonna touch this one
yeah all that purple is transformers blood
it's also showing even more that overlord has zero care for the people under his command and only cares insofar as they put up a good fight and the gladiator thing everyone's reduced to scrabbling violently for survival here ...Overlord would do quite well as Slaaneshi, he's all about excess great now I'm gonna be unable to get crab claw overlord out of my head. I bet his lips are somehow even more cursed.
back to the present
there's a problem
a decepticon ship just jumped in front of them
they have their weapons trained on the ship if it does anything funny
Magnus hails them
the ship explodes
Springer tells Verity to lock weapons on whoever this is but Kup tells him to hold
even after deca-cycles behind bars he's still unmistakeableâŠ
IIITS IMPACTOR and that's where the first issue ends
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BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion
Previously on BnHA: Deku was all â[powers up like whoa because itâs time to end the fight]â, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagantâs arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all âyoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, itâs like heâs some kind of protagonist or something.â Deku was all âI AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?â Nagant was all âah shit why the hell no -- â and then AFO was all âSURPRISEâ and everyone was all â?!?!?!â and AFO was all âTIME TO EXPLODE NOWâ and made Nagant explode because heâs an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.
Today on BnHA: Hawks is all âgood job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but Iâll take it from hereâ and screams very earnestly right in Nagantâs face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all âoh hey itâs my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?â Hawks is all âfandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically itâs because Iâm very upbeat and also I had the worldâs best role model Endeavor to look up to,â and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all âHELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!â and Deku is all âMAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,â which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all âbtw AFOâs hiding in a house in the woodsâ, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all âhi Iâm AFO welcome to Jackassâ and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.
I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Vizâs. âfauxâ is not nearly as entertaining as âknockoffâ, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Thirdâs lines lol
oh hey, Endeavorâs here too! not that youâd ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao
glad you received All Mightâs call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge
oh snap he says heâs weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesnât really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though
btw Dekuâs eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here
alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like Iâm not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol
anyway so apparently Hawks canât actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style
for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing Iâve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say âbye, Hawks!â
j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???
wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new âknockoffâ 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but itâs good for my own peace of mind because itâs solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing
anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though Iâd still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol
omgggggg
she still has a face after all!! so itâs confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what âblowing upâ actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh
so now Hawks is all âNAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICKâ
this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, itâs rare to see him actually panic over someoneâs welfare like this
oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it
I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and Iâm more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that heâs on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol
DAMMIT NAGANT CANâT YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING
apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when theyâre lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work
!!! IS THIS NAGANTâS POV OMG
SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesnât want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all
love how sheâs all âjust gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though thereâs no evidence heâs ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible âdamned-if-you-do...â situation with Twice.â no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles donât need the rousing lol
but nice save there with the âso how are your eyes so untaintedâ well you see itâs because even when he was following the HPSCâs orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I donât really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and heâs a good kid dammit
oh shit??!?
how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have
so Dekuâs dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFOâs location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagantâs saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFAâs ninth successor little by little
now Nagant is asking Hawks how heâs able to keep making âthatâ face. I assume sheâs again talking about the fact that he somehow didnât let the HPSC wear down his spirit
oh my god???
thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE
lmaoooo
âSPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUSâ good job Endeavor
anyway so you donât really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the âBUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSSâ stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. heâs doing that
OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKUâS âof all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be youâ FACE THOUGH, OMG
fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all thatâs somewhat relevant to the current situation
OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU
THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT
HEREâS THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING IâM SAYING LOL
(ETA: so apparently thereâs some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying âyou should apologize to Eriâ, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldnât ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying âit would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as wellâ, vs saying âyou should also apologize to her.â all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. itâs not a directive to take any specific action, and Iâm 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.
tl;dr âtry feeling remorse sometimeâ =/= âdo you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatizedâ, lol.)
[slings an arm around Dekuâs shoulders] youâre a good kid. I like you. I donât know if I tell you that enough, but itâs true
meanwhile here is Overhaulâs âspare... a thought... for Eri...???????â face sigh
the struggle is real yâall
(ETA: and thatâs... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know heâll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess Iâm more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his characterâs history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)
lmao holy shit
All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give âem those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit
so Endeavor, who wasnât the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well letâs be real, Deku captured, give the credit where itâs due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess theyâre going to take Nagant to the ER now
fire is no oneâs weakness
-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped
[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Dekuâs shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] âweâre sorry, heâs not allowed to have visitors right nowâ oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]
lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page
what an exaggerated fade to black lmao
-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I actually canât see what heâs reacting to so maybe Iâm just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so Iâm just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit
[scrolls three more inches down] oh
yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, whoâs telling him to wait up. yep. weâve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know weâre excited but still
anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol
dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate
[monkey puppet meme faces]
OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND IâM HERE FOR IT
thatâs such a weird way of clapping who claps like that
unlike certain other people who shanât be named, AFO doesnât feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think weâre all pretty grateful for that
high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep
anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which Iâm enjoying immensely even though I donât think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldnât it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol
(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)
ffff
[âDekuangst is the trapâ intensifies]
anyway so yeah. heâs just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, youâre so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who donât conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant
-- holy shit??
[âDekuangst is the trapâ intensifies MORE?????]
LOL WHAT
BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DONâT YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD
âYOUâRE NEXTâ THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFOâS POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR
HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY
r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. donât worry they have a ton of backups
remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions
anyway so thatâs the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels
#bnha 316#hawks#takami keigo#lady nagant#midoriya izuku#all for one#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#manifesting 317 opening with a slightly modified version of my previous fantasy scenario lmao#'WHADDYA MEAN THEY BLEW UP THE NERD'#that's *his* job#sorry lol I kid I kid
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What's a Knife Between Onscreen Family // Charlie Gillespie
Summary: Filming an emotionally wrought scene on the set of your current role as a regular goes very wrong very fast. Expecting the scene to be the most taxing of the day you find yourself in the ER getting a transfusion. Itâs all fun and games until someoneâs holding a sharp knife incorrectly, guess itâs just something in common with co-star Jared Padalecki.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fear, injuries, hospital, needles, angst, and fluff
Words: 3.5k (including lyrics)
A/N: I watched a part of a panel from a Supernatural con and found it hilarious that Jensen accidently stabbed Jared. So I had to write that for a Charlie Gillespie fic. Link to the video talking about the stabbing is right below this message.
Jensen Ackles Accidentally Stabbed Jared Padalecki during filming From 1:00-6:00
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It had to be one of the most emotionally taxing scenes in your entire career as an actress on a physically demanding show. The scene had been incredibly mentally draining the daughter of a Winchester. It had been once season recurring, one series regular and now filming the third season. As the teenage Winchester, it threw a wrench in all the plans and the reckless character gave no shits.
âOkay, this is our last scene for the day!â Robert Singer, the director of his episode, called out from off stage. Standing at the top of the stairs in the Bunker, you jumped in close with a scrunched nose at the squishy sound.
Over the railing, both Jared and Jensen nodded their support from the ground level with concerned expressions. Ever since you joined the cast in season 13, they had become fathers to you. The sight of you drenched in stage blood was enough to churn their stomachs.
âI gave you the barebones of the scene so work with it. Briarâs traumatized after fighting for her life and has been gone for a while.â Robert explained, âCas couldnât find her. I want this to be a tribute like Dean in season 10 episode 14: The Executionerâs Song.â
Taking a deep breath in your emotions channelled into a hurricane in your chest, clenching your fingers on the knife.
âAction!â
Pacing the floor plan of the Bunker is two brothers bonded by sorrow, pain, sacrifice and love. Each throwing out locations on where Briar could be, Jack and Cas had been little help. Samâs heart clenched tight bypassing images straight to torture. The kind of torture he had endured over the years.
Deanâs mouth opened to suggest another place when the Bunker door creaked open. The red converse appeared before the soggy jeans as the teen slowly made her way down the steps. Briar Winchester shook like a leaf staring off in the distance as the blood congealed on her face and hands.
âBriar.â Dean slowly spoke, moving towards the girl. His green eyes lit up in fury as the seventeen-year-old flinched back. Deanâs hand gently took the stained knife from the young girl.
âI-I didnât mean to do it.â The meek voice appeared so unlike the usual confidence Briar talked with. In exhaustion, Briarâs knees collapsed, sending the teen right into Deanâs arms.
The stoic man gripped the youngest Winchester as his waist bearing her weight against his while Sam circled to be behind Dean. The choked sob echoed by another escaped the family huddle; one from Briar and the other from Dean.
âDad.â Briar choked clenching her arms around the green-eyed adultâs shoulders, craving the safety of her father.
Ever since Dean could remember he had had a strict rule of always practising safe sex, he didnât want a kid. Not in a world that had it out for Winchesters and not one where he might hold his childâs dead body in his arms. That all changed when Cas delivered Dean to a county jail where Briar was held just for a minor assault charge on a wealthy bully.
Dean never let himself want a future with the picket fence and the dog in the backyard but when Briar changed that. Dean would do anything for his family no matter the cost. Example: Selling his soul for Sam.
âSh.â Dean spoke kissing the crown of her hair he savoured having his child safe in his arms, âIâll help you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Weâll heat some soup and toast.â
On autopilot, Dean helped Briar down the hall to the bathroom where she would freshen up and later burn the unsalvageable clothing. As Dean returned to Samâs side, Castiel came with a sombre expression and an explanation.
âDean. Sam.â Cas greeted them, flicking his blue gaze between the two brothers. The faint sound of the shower only picked up by the trained heightened sense of hearing from years of watching over their backs.
âCas what the hell happened?â Dean demanded, âWhy the hell is my little girl bruised and coated in blood?â
END FILMING SCENE
âCut!â Robert called out to the large room with a big smile on his face, âIâll watch it back. See if we need more takes.â
Jared and Jensen wiped the tears that fell from their cheeks just thinking on how wrought that scene felt. As fathers seeing a young adult in such a state severely agonized them. The duo jogged to see your back against the cold wallâa pinched expression marring your young face.
âHow are you feeling after that?â Jensen asked, coming closer to squeeze your shoulders unfazed by the sticky fake blood. It was already all over his clothes from hugging you in character.
âYou shouldnât be allowed to have sharp objects.â You spoke glancing down at your knee that had been punctured by the knife. The dark jeans soaked in stage blood now concealed the real blood.
 âJensen, did you really stab another person.â Jared deadpanned his best friend referencing back a few years. Jared shoved one hand through his hair, receiving a nasty glare from the hairstylist on call.
The glare on Jensenâs face blistered the taller actor, âI didnât stab you. You walked into the knife.â
The two bickered as they guided you back to the main stage where Robert had reached a final verdict. He had watched the replay twice along with his crew finding the raw emotion to be perfect. The little detail the three had added was well played. Dean unexpectedly consoling his daughter in tears; no threats to kill or push her to tell him what happened. The first time Briar referring to Dean as her father. Lastly, Samâs unsure actions in consoling a young girl sucked into life like he was in his youth.
âWe got a one-take winner!â Robert called out sending the entire crowd into loud applause and cheers. Jared taking most of your weight as you hobbled to the costume trailer.
The lovely costume designers helped remove the sticky shirt, jewellery and the red converse that had once been white. Only the jeans remained on your body to not mess with the wound. As much as youâd love to shower the blood off, it was near impossible, moving your knee stung and it was best to avoid aggravating it.
âSomeone needs to ban Jensen from knives. Just wait till his wife finds out about this, she adores Y/N.â Martha chuckled from her sketches she designed on her breaks for a future in fashion design. Often in your free time, you would be her guinea pig with her designs using refurbished material.
Normally the banter would continue but not when your leg was bleeding, and Jared was taking you to the ER. To make time faster, Jared had scooped you into his arms to the black car their driver waited in.
âTowels are in place. Sorry, you got hurt, Kid.â Clif spoke, opening the door to the backseat where Jensen sat patiently. Unlike usual, he had seated himself in the front so you could stretch in the back.
A weak chuckle met air in the packed car from the blood loss that wasnât overly bad but enough that Jared took the towel. His pressure on the wound caused a yelp that had Jensen flinching in guilt.
âThe knife must have been sharp to cut a mouse in half,â Clif muttered turning towards the hospital close to set. Coincidently the drive took you passed the set your boyfriend currently filmed at.
âMight as well call me butter.â You retorted wincing at the throbbing pain, âYou arenât allowed any more sharp objects, Mr. Ackles.â
âDanneel already threatened to hide all the knives in the house.â The on-screen father laughed as the tension decreased in the small car. Despite the dizziness, it didnât hide the guilt in Jensenâs green eyes.
Time flew by as you found yourself in a bed for observation and pictures for the knee. It came as a shock when the doctor requested one blood transfusion for the blood loss. The hope of being in and out had evaporated like water beads on a blistering summer day.
Julie and the Phantoms Set
Charlie adored his life as an actor where he was free to visit places, he might not have had the opportunity to do. He made friends with everyone he spoke to and even met the love of his life as an actor as well.
That being said today had been the longest one with a full schedule and barely time for lunch or snacks. Even a nap was unachievable, and he desperately wanted one for being awake for hours by now.
âCharlie! Did you know youâve got missed calls?â Jeremy inquired, staring at the phone that went black once more. Charlieâs eyebrows came together at the mention. His family had the rough outline of times he would be unavailable to talk.
Stepping back from the craft tableâs supper options, he lifted the phone from the table, bringing it to life. His lock screen showing multiple missed calls and voicemails from you, his family and two unknown numbers.
His jaw dropped further when Meghan called for the first time out of the group, âMegs?â
âFinally! Where have you been?â Meghan demanded pacing in the studio she had been using when she got the call. The pretty and successful young woman had gotten terrified at learning about Y/N.
âFilming? Itâs the longest day of filming the show. Itâs on the family schedule.â Charlie spoke, settling into one of the empty tables. His eyes watching the people entering and exiting the tent set up for food.
âJesus. Mom called me when you didnât pick up. Y/Nâs in the hospital.â Meghan revealed sending the Canadian actor into a stiff posture. His hazel eyes blow wide and panic flooding his entire system.
âWhat?!â Charlie didnât mean to shout nor turn paler than a piece of white paper, but it happened. The volume contracting looks from everyone in the vicinity. Owen even dropped the donut back in the box by the volume.
âShe got stabbed with a knife. I sent the address earlier, and I havenât gotten a lot of info.â Meghan told her older brother, âI know sheâs getting a blood transfusion, but nothing else was released.â
Charlie couldnât tell you what happened between Meghan telling him and reaching the hospital frantically. Nor could he figure out how Owen was in the back of the Uber with him guiding him through exercises; all thanks to Owenâs therapist for his anxiety.
His sneakers squeaked on the polished white floor in his mission to the receptionist transferring information from a chart to digital. Charlieâs painting brought him attention from the kind nurse acknowledging his presence.
âJust let me finish this one sentence.â The nurse hummed saving the information before turning their full attention to the frazzled male, âHow can I help you?â
âWhat room is Y/N Y/L/N in? She was stabbed and needed a transfusion.â Charlie demanded deflating as Owen placed a hand on his shoulder. The Canadianâs eyes bright with panic and a deep fear
The nurseâs eyes softened, âI canât give out information on patients unless your immediate family members.â
âIâm here-â
âHusband! Heâs her husband, they eloped so she hasnât changed her last name or updated her information.â Owen blurted out, rubbing the pad of his index finger on the black jeans he had worn for his role. The two hadnât even bothered changing into their street clothing.
The nurse nodded their head-turning back to the computer to enter the name for the patient for the information. It took seconds before the nurse wrote on the miscellaneous sticky note of the ward and room number.
âMy name is Riley. If you need any help, you can come back here, and Iâll do my best to give you answers.â Nurse Riley informed the duo with a kind smile nodding in the direction of your hospital room.
Owenâs long legs ate up the distance Charlie made in his sprint to the stairwell, âShouldnât we take the elevator?â
âMy girlfriend is in a hospital bed. I canât wait for an elevator.â Charlie rebuked the suggestion on the second flight. Owenâs sigh was the last sound made as the duo slammed into the door to the floor level.
Charlie and Owen appeared in the doorway of your hospital room panting from the exertion meeting the gaze of two actors. Charlieâs heart stuttered at the sight of the high volume of blood in your clothing and your hair.
The sharp gasp brought your attention to the shaking Canadian actor solely focused on scanning for wounds. His eyes barely staying on the two adult males you had been starring with for a few years. Schedule conflicts often led to no introduction to each otherâs co-stars.
âWhat the hell?â Charlie choked stumbling to the chair beside your hospital bed next to the pole holding a blood bag, âDid you get mugged? Are you okay?â
âChar, take a breath, man.â Owenâs blue eyes shadowed with the worry as Charlieâs breathing shuddered. Owen could barely look at you covered in blood.
âWhoa! Charlie. Iâm fine. This is stage blood. We had an intense scene, and there was a minor accident.â Your voice soothed the man gently taking Charlieâs hand to comfort him, âI lost a bit of blood. The doctor decided to give me a blood transfusion to bring my levels back up a bit before stitching it up.â
âHow do you get stabbed accidently?â Owen questioned glancing at the two men standing silently in the corner. Due to contracts on the Supernatural set details of scenes and storylines was off-limits.
âWell, during filming, I took a knife from her, and she walked into the blade?â Jensen trailed off, shoving his elbow into Jaredâs side at the scoff. It happened every time it was brought up.
âI-âCharlie blinked, shaking his head as he took a deep sigh in pushing that to the back burner to focus solely on you. His hand rubbed his face while he settled on squeezing your one hand in both of his.
The touch of your skin grounding him back to earth with the shattering visions of walking into the world without you. It would be both ways, the second his calloused warm skin brushed your hands; it was like the pain faded. Only a sense of content settled in your weary bones.
âOkay Miss Y/L/N.â Dr. Clancy walked into the room only halting to grab a pair of medical gloves, âI see your entourage grew. Iâm Doctor Jim Clancy, and you must be Miss Y/L/Nâs husband.â
Three pairs of eyes widened at the doctorâs words aimed towards the brunette actor turning a blushing mess. The words mouthed by Charlie to go with it gave barely any insight, but you did it. The moment you had a free minute with Charlie, you would interrogate him in the new title you had.
âYeah, my husband.â You spoke flicking an expression to Jensen and Jared that caught on from the years together. They had taken you under their wing on your first day on set, and then you became family with their immediate family.
âI can confirm that my initial observation is that the wound doesnât have anything that shouldnât be in there. We stopped the bleeding, the x-ray came clean, weâll set you up with IV fluid, and tetanus shot to be safe.â
âNurse Gellar here will cut the rest of the jeans off, get you in a gown for a few hours of observation. Just a precaution for blood transfusions. Weâll have some scrubs you can wear when you can leave.â Dr. Clancy motioned to the tall redhead with a quiet demeanour.
Charlieâs lips lingered on your temple at the fear that flared in your expressive eyes, he would give anything to take your place. He softly sang your couple song as a whimper fell from your lips as the jean tugged the dried blood from the wound. The painful pressure felt as you guessed it had started to bleed again, the feel of liquid rolling down your skin, confirming it.
âIâll sing anything.â Charlie whispered going through his mental catalogue of songs on your shared playlist, âOh!â
Iâm booking myself a one-way flight
 I gotta see the color in your eyes
 And telling myself Iâm gonna be alright
 Without you baby is a waste of time
The tears falling no longer came from the pain but the sheer amount of love you had for the man there. Eyes glittering with pure adoration as his voice came off absolutely heart-melting. So, lost in each other neither of you noticed Owen had been filming from the moment Charlie had said âohâ.
Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed
 It got washed away in a summer rain
 You canât undo a fall like this
 âCause love donât know what distance is
 Yeah, I know itâs crazy
Charlieâs hand slowly slid up your arms to cup your tear-streaked tacky cheeks in his warm grip. The hospital faded as it became just you and Charlie. Completely oblivious at the audience in the room.
âHe loves her,â Jensen whispered to Jared out of the camera frame that the blonde-haired kidâs phone. It was such a pure moment it felt disrespectful to see this exchange but also honoured to see it firsthand.
âIâve only seen the look in your eyes for Danneel,â Jared replied, cupping his hands over his face listening to the near inaudible wet chuckle you gave.
âAs I have between you and Gen. They have the real kind of love.âÂ
But I donât want âgoodâ, and I donât want âgood enough.â
 I want âcanât sleep, canât breathe without your loveâ
 Front porch and one more kiss, it doesnât make sense to anybody else
âCharlie.â You sobbed at the best part of your life serenading you in such a romantic moment at the odd settingâhis hazel gaze greener in what would come to be a very dear memory to reminisce about.
The calloused thumb caressing your cheek wiping a teardrop away he continued to see as the doctor finished suturing the wound.Â
Nothing mattered other than the couple currently in a bubble.
Who cares if youâre all I think about,
 Iâve searched the world and I know now,
 It ainât right if you ainât lost your mind.
 Yeah, I donât want easy, I want crazy
 Are you with me baby? Letâs be crazy
Charlieâs voice faded with the rest of the song bringing you back to reality with the nurse cleaning up around the wound. Thatâs how the rest of the day went on waiting for the blood transfusion and IV fluids to finish. You stuffed the tetanus shot while Charlie sang between different genres.
âThank you.â You softly spoke with Charlie being the only one left in the room with you.
Owen had headed back to their set to finish a scene while giving the updates on you while Jared and Jensen grabbed food. J2 had been very clear they would get Martha to grab some clothing for when they came back. Jensen was determined to deliver you to your home as the first action to make it up to you.
âFor what?â Charlie questioned as your index and thumb picked at the cuticles of the opposite hand. Your eyes were hidden from your boyfriendâs gaze.
âFor dropping everything to be here.â The words were quiet in the room only filled with breathing and the heart machine you had to be hooked up to.
âMy girl-â
âDonât you mean wife?â You teased brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead taking in the man you had the honor of loving. Of waking up next to in the apartment, youâd been renting ever since you landed the role on Supernatural; overtime Charlieâs things had just accumulated there.
âIt was the only way theyâd let me in.â Charlie spoke sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, âItâs a little early to call you, but Iâm excited to make you my last girlfriend and then my only wife.â
The chuckle fell from your lips, âSo, you want to marry me?â
âIn front of all our family and friends. Tucked away from the media to celebrate the love we have for each other.â Charlie spoke, âThereâs no one else Iâd like by my side for the rest of my life.â
A new flood of tears welled at the sincerity in his voice and the warmth laden in his eyes of kaleidoscope colours. Sometimes, depending on his emotion or his clothing, his eyes would be greener, or when he was happy, they had a blue tinge in the green in sadness or your favourite; brown with the swirls of green.
âHow did I get so lucky to have the absolute honour to fall in love with you?â Your words created a swell of emotion in the Canadianâs heart.
âThe same way whatever deities there are took pity on a boy from Dieppe by bringing him an angel.â Charlie words preceded the kiss on your lips with a grin as you chased his lips after. With one last peck, he leaned back with a fond expression.
âSeriously how do you get stabbed accidently?â Charlie chortled with that gorgeous smile lighting up the room more than the white lights.
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Tall Part 2/?
Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing.
Tech X Reader
Slow Burn/ Angst
Warnings: Mild 1.11 Spoilers, Deviates from canon
Word Count: 1.5K
Part 2/?
partly inspired by this gifÂ
(it wonât let me put it in but its the one of tech catching omega)
Omega nudges you awake from where you are napping in the pilotâs seat. The small girlâs blonde head peeks over the arm of the chair as she looks out the window.Â
âLook!â
The sounds of explosions and blaster fire are erupting from the city center a few klicks away. You quickly lean forward and start firing up the takeoff controls for the Marauder. You are sure your boys are the ones behind the explosions and you smile gently as you imagine Wreckerâs gleeful expression as you see a cloud of smoke rise into the air in the distance. They canât be too far off if the nearing sounds of blaster fire are any indicators. Omega rushes to the landing ramp as Hunterâs voice crackles in through the comms.Â
âOmega! Get ready to bring the senator aboard!â Hunter sounds a little winded and Wrecker cackles in the background as another explosion rocks the tunnel they were in. You remember the new security system Tech put in place and shake the last cobwebs of your nap out of your mind as you recall the specifications that he had told you about before leaving. Your hands fly across the panels as you disarm the system and lower the landing ramp. You head to the ramp as Omega jumps up and down waving at the men as they trek towards the ship.Â
âLadies! Meet the newest passenger of the Havoc Marauder, Senator Avi Singh.â Hunter introduced you to the senator and you looked him up and down. The senator doesnât look like heâs all that happy to be leaving his planet in the hands of the Imperials. Singh is wringing his hands and has a look of worry on his face.Â
âI should not leave my people. They need me here!â The senator says quietly. Echo leans in with a hand on the senatorâs shoulder.Â
âIf you stay here you will be hunted down and murdered. It is better to live to fight another day than to die unnecessarily.â The clone looks almost defeated as he tells the senator this. Singhâs shoulders slump forward as he takes one last look around his planet before boarding the ship, nodding in agreement at Echoâs words.Â
The trip back to Cidâs bar was uneventful to say the least. The senator and his droid are quietly sitting in the cargo hold. You offered him a cup of caf earlier but he graciously declined. The men are scattered around the ship as hyperspace speeds by. Echo and Hunter are attempting to sleep in the bunks while Wrecker and Omega are playing Saabac on the box that functions as a makeshift table. You just poured yourself a piping hot cup of the precious brown liquid that keeps you going through bouts of insomnia caused by the nightmares and the general lifestyle of the Bad Batch. Wandering up towards the cockpit, you arenât expecting to trip over Techâs long legs that are stretched out into the aisle.Â
âKriff!â Tech curses as your cup spills slightly onto the top of his blacks. He slides out from the wall he was buried in and starts looking around for a towel to wipe the hot caf off of his shirt.Â
âSorry! I didnât see you there!â You frantically bend down to help him. You grab one of his grease rags from the toolbox you notice off to the side and dab at the stain on his shirt.Â
âNo worries. I will be fine.â Tech strips off his shirt and you swear you can feel the temperature of the air heat up several degrees as you realize just how close you are to the taller clone. âThere. No harm done. Would you mind putting this in the laundry for me? I need to finish this last bit of wiring before heading back to check on the flightpath.â You flush as you tear your eyes away from the bare chest of the man in front of you.Â
âHm? Sorry! Iâll just get right on that.â You hurry away with the stained shirt and a blush on your face. You left your cup of caf on the floor near where Tech was working. He let out a small chuckle as he steals your drink. Not his fault if you left it in your hurry.Â
The ship lands back at Cidâs bar without incident. The senator thanks you all graciously and departs into Cidâs office to discuss payment. Wrecker and Omega not so sneakily sneak off to get Mantell mix and Echo follows them at a distance to make sure they stay out of trouble. Tech goes to the bar to get a drink and you sit beside him to discuss the mission. You flush as you think about the previous night on the ship and you clench your jaw to avoid licking your lips at the thought of the bare chest of the taller clone next to you. You arenât ashamed to say you dreamed of the expanse of skin and what it might taste like while you were in your bunk after that episode last night.Â
âAm I boring you? I can stop if you would like.â Tech looks concerned as you zone back into reality and realize you have been watching him with a blank expression for a beat too long. You blink in surprise as you shake away the untamed thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You really canât be anymore obvious in your crush can you? At this point you might as well have a giant sign that follows you around that says âThis person has a crush on the tall nerdy one!âÂ
âNo!â You exclaim a little too loudly and get some irritated looks from the other patrons of the bar. âSorry I'm just distracted today. The mission has me a little rattled. I am not used to being that deep into enemy space.â You say in a quieter tone.
âWe are also not used to it. I always knew we would make it to Raxus someday however I never thought about it being to save the seperatist leader. Echo was most displeased about the idea and protested greatly. I tried to convince him that it was just a job and we need to pay off our debt to Cid but he does not see it this way.â Tech seems saddened at his brotherâs inability to see the mission without the politics. You can see Echoâs point of view and point out to Tech that Echoâs trauma probably makes it hard for him to trust the separatists seeing as they had kidnapped and tortured him for 2 years before he was rescued.Â
âThe Techno Union treated him like a computer! An algorithm! Barely even human! I really donât blame Echo for not trusting the separatists. He has barely recovered from the trauma of being in that machine for so long. He is still really pale and frail and you havenât finished working on his new limbs yet so he still has the prosthetics they forced on him. Speaking of which, if you need help working on those I am always available. He has every reason to be upset about this mission.âÂ
You are fully involved in the discussion and donât hear Echo and the others enter the bar as they make their way over to you and Tech. Echo catches the tail end of the conversation and tries to announce their presence with a small cough that turned into a hacking one that left Omega looking concerned. Her big round eyes are full of unspoken worry as she gazes up at him. Echo glances down at the young girl and forces a smile, patting her head.Â
âI am fine little one. Donât worry about me.â He says reassuringly.
Hunter leaves Cidâs office with her and the Senator. He comes over to where the group has gathered and steals Techâs abandoned drink. He chugs the rest of it and gestures for the group to follow as he heads back to the ship. Tech stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off of the bar stool. He has a habit of making sure none of the Bad Batchers fall over, a habit he has picked up from their upbringing on Kamino where the other 3 clones were not the best balanced due to their enhanced abilities. Your face flushes again as you become uncomfortably aware of how close you two have gotten during the conversation. He leans away from your touch as if he also hadnât realized how close you two had gotten. Tech turns to follow Hunter out the door and has to stoop a little to avoid hitting the door frame, Echo cracking a quiet joke about not having to worry about hitting the top of door frames since he lost a few inches. Only Omega and you caught the joke and you give a chuckle as Omega just looks confused.Â
âThe legs you see? Lost a few inches? Oh well.â Echo gave up on explaining the joke to the kid and followed Wrecker out the door towards the ship.Â
Once back on the ship Hunter announces that they have been given a few days off courtesy of Cid since the mission went so smoothly. The other bad batchers glance at each other, not sure of what to do with their new time off. You were pretty sure they have never had free time in their entire life.
âWe could visit Cut and Suu? See how they are settling in!â Suggests Omega.Â
âToo dangerous for them. We attract too much attention. The last thing they need is to be recognized as republic sympathizers.â reasons Tech.Â
âI think we deserve a few days of downtime! We can take a well deserved vacation and rest up before the next mission.â you say as you pour a cup of caf from the pot Tech started when you arrived back at the ship. âWe can get some repairs done on the ship and maybe even explore the city! I know Omega has been dying to go to the museums in the city center since we got here and I'm sure you boys would enjoy it too.âÂ
Hunter thinks for a moment and nods in agreement.Â
âSounds like a plan to me.â
Taglist: @haloangel391 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s
#tech x reader#tech is too tall for his own good#part 2#omega has a nanny#its you#the bad batch steals each others drinks all the time and you can't convince me otherwise#tech is a caf fiend#you can't leave your drink alone with him he will steal it#tech has the best balance out of the bad batch#he catchs everyone
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Scars (Din Djarin x reader)
Connection series pt. 4
Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of Y/N)
Warnings: cursing, mention of family members passing away, scars, torture from empire, some sexual tension
Word count: A little over 4.8K
Summary:Â The Mandalorian sees a part of you that youâve been hiding and comforts you.
Notes: Â Did I listen to drivers license by olivia rodrigo on repeat while writing this and tear up at least two times? Yes. Is this possibly the saddest thing Iâve written yet? Yes.
Last Part ____ Next Part
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âIf you donât take off your jacket and sweater, I will.â
And that is when you realized that everything the Mandalorian says sounds 20x more sexual than it ever should.
________________________________
Youâve said it once. And you will say it a hundred more times.
The Razor Crest was a hunk of junk. A total piece of trash. It may as well had been space garbage, just floating through the atmosphere. You swore it was a metal death trap that could just happen to fly through light speed. You told Din to get a new ship and he had very sassily remarked about how she was perfectly fine (yes, he referred to his stupid ship as a âsheâ and you couldnât stop laughing about it for five minutes straight).
Regardless of Dinâs arguing, you knew deep down the ship was junk. And that is why you had to stop (again). You had rushed to fix the wing on the planet where you had been attacked and itâs been a couple days since then. It held up okay but you knew you were going to have to stop on a planet for probably a whole day, so you could fix the wing, as well as the heater which had broken down in the last day.
So you and Din had planned to stop on a remote planet. One without a lot of humans or any big civilizations near by, that way you wouldnât have another surprise visitor like last time. One where you could fix the ship and where Din could take a day to relax, to sit back and not worry about the safety of you and the kid. To be honest, it sounded like a great day to you. You would keep busy with the ship, but Din would watch over the kid and talk to you. It would be like how life used to be almost. A taste of normalcy in an otherwise hectic world.
And then Din landed you in the middle of the damn desert.
âDin Djarin, when I said land on a planet, you couldnât have chosen one with water or plants or nice, cool temperatures?â Din had just stepped back into the ship after checking the surroundings of where you had landed. His armored head faced you and the kid you had held in your arms. The child gurgled endlessly, his tiny fingers clutching onto the zipper of your jacket as you rocked him back and forth.Â
âIâve been to this planet before. There arenât a lot of people. Worse there is are some Jawas. And Mudhorns, but they stick to the caves.â
âMudhorns? Where are we?â
âArvala-7. This is one of the first places the kid and I went together.â The Mandalorian walked towards the two of you, stopping right in front of you. One of his gloved hands reached out to pat at the kids head. The childâs attention drifted from your zipper to his father, a hand reaching out. Din wiggled one of his fingers at the kid, something you donât even think he realized he did, and watched as the three green digits wrapped around his finger. You smiled at the sight before you, looking at Mandoâs helmet which was tilted down, aimed towards the child. The moment felt so domestic, like you three were just a little family. You and Din parenting the kid, living life traveling through the galaxy, not because you had to run but because you wanted to. You couldâve easily let yourself drift into the daydream but shook it away. That was a reality a person like you could never have. A reality that Din deserved and maybe could have one day, but with someone else. Someone who was worthy of a man like him.Â
âWell, I am so glad you and the kid are going to take a trip down memory lane here but I am going to die from the heat.â You heard the Mandalorian chuckle as his hands reached out to grab the child. You handed him over to his dadâs arms, which the kid seemed to very pleased about. You could tell that the kid liked his fatherâs embrace, even though most of his body was covered in beskar. He liked to be held by Din and lately you had been wondering what that would feel like. For his strong arms to wrap around you.Â
Lately you had been thinking a lot of things about the Mandalorian that you shouldnât have.
âDidnât you grow up on Jakku? That place is even hotter than here.â The words were said with a hint of sarcasm, as his helmet turned as if to said âduhâ.Â
âYes but that was different.â
âHow? Just take off some layers and youâll be fine.âÂ
He said it very matter-of-factly and you supposed that was a reasonable thing for most people to do. Most of the time when you were on Jakku, outside working, you would only wear a pair of cargo shorts and a tank top with a work vest. Light layers that kept you cool and allowed your skin to be kissed by the sun as you worked away on a ship. You remembered spending hours upon hours outsides, never being bothered once by the heat and desert environment.Â
But things were different. You had lived on Yungbrii for so long now that you were used to the cold. And you always wore your sweater, with a jacket over it. Taking those off werenât an option anymore. Wearing just the tank top underneath them wasnât an luxury you could afford anymore.Â
âI have a shirt you can borrow if you need to.â Din broke your train of thought with the offer.
An offer that nearly made you lose it. You had never once thought of wearing a piece of Dinâs clothing. Hadnât ever crossed your mind or been mentioned. And you knew he was only offering it because the temperature outside, no other reason. Not because he wanted to see you in his clothing or anything like that. Just to be kind. But, the thought of you wearing a shirt of Dins, something his skin had touched and probably smelled like him and would probably swallow you... made you feel some things. And a part of you really, really wanted to take him up on the offer. But that would show too much skin.
âNo!â You had inadvertently yelled it out, watching as Mandoâs helmet whipped up from the kid to you. âI mean... uh, yeah. No thanks. Iâm good.â
âUh, okay. Yeah.âÂ
An awkward silence filled the room until the kid let out a loud giggle. You swear the little womp rat could tell when you had just done some dumb shit and always thought it was the funniest thing in the whole damn galaxy. You scrunched up your nose as the kids big black eyes looked up at you and you turned to look away from him and Din.Â
You needed to ease the tension. âDonât you get hot in the giant tin can of yours?âÂ
You couldnât tell if Din found the tin can jokes funny or insulting, but every-time you made them he let out a little huff, one you couldnât decipher as a laugh or a sigh. It was one of those times you wished you could see him face. You had gotten pretty used to reading him, despite the helmet and his quiet demeanor. But times like these you wish you could see an expression, an eyebrow raise, a smile, anything. âSometimes.â
âIâd imagine you are sweating buckets under there.â You walked towards the bag you had stuffed in a corner of Dinâs ship, reaching into it to grab your fatherâs box of tools. The cool touch of the metal against your fingers made a pain spread throughout your whole body. The tools were the only thing you had left of him. The only reminder that he had existed and that he had been there for you every day. The only reminder of the hours he spent teaching you about ships and how to fix them, ever since you were only a tiny little girl. Your mother thought you would be preoccupied with more feminine things. But even at a young age, you loved the feel of metal against your fingers, the sweat that would collect on your brow from the sun, the ache of your muscles from a hard days work. It gave you purpose, meaning. It was a way to help and to contribute. And all you had ever wanted to do was help your family, even in the end.Â
But you had failed to do that.
You heard the clanking of Dinâs boots behind you and he stopped behind you, bending down at the knees. If he didnât have his helmet on, you probably could have felt his breath on the back of your neck, but now you only heard the sound of his breathing through the modulator. It was faint but it was there. âYou okay?â
You could of broke down sobbing at the moment. At your fatherâs tools in your hand and Dinâs worry about you. But, instead you shook your head and stood up, looking down at him still bent down. âIâm getting there.â
And it was true. For the first time in years, you felt like maybe one day you would be okay. That the pain wouldnât be so gut-wrenching every day.
And that was only because of Din.
âI should probably get started on fixing the ship.â You gave the Mandalorian, your Mandalorian, a small smile and walked past him, outside of the ship.
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It was so hot.
You werenât used to the heat anymore. You werenât used to the way your sweat would seep out of every pore, drenching your clothes. You werenât used to the fatigue that came along with a hard dayâs work in the sun. And the sweater and jacket probably werenât helping. But no way in hell were you going to take them off. No one was even around but Din kept walking back outside to check on you, probably cause your stupid ass was dying of heat exhaustion.Â
Your sweater clung to your skin, the jacket slightly more durable but still trapping your body heat. You bent over a panel on the Razor Crestâs side, a tool tightly grasped in your hand as you worked away. The other hand reached up to wipe away at your forehead continuously.Â
âYou are going to kill yourself out here.â
Something you hated about the Mandalorian was that he could be so quiet sometimes and sneak up on you. The man was always covered in metal and you would think you would hear him from a mile away, but he could come up behind you without letting out a peep. Which made sense considering his job but it was so unnerving.
You jumped, turning to look at Din, who stood with his hands on his hips and his helmet tilted. âYou look like shit.â The words were said gruffly, with an air of annoyance.
âWell, you sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.â You were almost too tired and hot to let the joke out, but you didnât want Din to know how horrible you felt. Which was probably useless because you couldnât even see yourself and knew Din was in fact correct: you did look like shit. Your skin was flushed red, your hair pulled into a ponytail but tiny wisps of hair clung to your head, wet from perspiration.Â
âYou need to take off some layers. You are overheating.â
âHow do you know, sir?â
âMy helmet can tell your internal body temperature.â
Of course it can. âWell that feels invasive.â
Din let out a loud sigh at that, one that was loud and clear through the modulator. You were driving him crazy but he didnât understand. âYou need to take them off.â
âNope.â You let your lips pop out the word, going to turn away when you felt Dinâs hand reach out and grab your arm. He turned you back to face him, stepping even closer.
âIf you donât take off your jacket and sweater, I will.â
And that is when you realized that everything the Mandalorian says sounds 20x more sexual than it ever should.
You thanked the Maker that your face was already a bright red from the sun and tried your best to not start choking on your own saliva from the words. On the list of things you thought Din Djarin would say to you, you never would have put âthreatening to take your clothes offâ.Â
You blamed the modulator. Something about the modulator made his deep, raspy words sound sexier than they had any right to (not that you frequently thought that Dinâs voice sounded sexy, because that would be weird and inappropriate). And Din was saying this to try to convince you to stop killing yourself in this unbearable heat, but your stomach still clenched at the threat.Â
Damn you, Din Djarin. You had to come up with a good come back. Something so he knew his words hadnât effected you.Â
âWell, Din, if you wanted to see me undressed this badly, you should of asked sooner.â
You expected Din to step back, mumbling some lame apology and leaving you be but your Mandalorian was much more determined than you realized. âSweet girl, no snarky response is going to make me leave this be. You are gonna die out here.â
Oh boy. Of course he said sweet girl. He had said it once last night while you had a conversation (the same conversation where you had told him a little about your family) and you had lamely teased him about flirting. Maybe because you were secretly hoping he was flirting. And you were afraid you had scared him away from ever calling you that again, because you honestly loved the way it sounded. Sweet girl. It was such a sweet thing, made so much sense that Din would call you that. It made you feel special and made your hands tremble.Â
Oh, now you had to come up with something really good. Because not only was Din trying to get your to take your sweater off, but now you swear the man was teasing you. There was no way he had no clue what he was doing. And you were the only one allowed to tease people here. So you had to come back with something really snarky, really teasing, that way heâd leave you alone and let you breathe.
But he didnât give you time to do that because his gloved fingers started reaching for the shoulders of your jacket, so he could take it off of you. And while you were sure in any other situation, if you were any other person with any other life, you maybe just might of let Din continue, you had to stop it.
âIâll take it off!â you yelled out.
Din ripped his hands away from you, looking down at them for a split second before dropping them down to his sides. He stepped back slowly, like he was unsure what to say or what to do with the tension in the environment.Â
âIâll take them off. But you canât be out here. You need to stay in the ship.â You said the words slowly and watched as the Mandalorian nodded his head in response, before turning away without another word.Â
You were confused. You didnât know what had just happened. You didnât know if the Mandalorian was angry with you or if he was reeling from what had just happened like you were. But you didnât give yourself much more time to think before you took the jacket off, letting it drop to the ground. Your fingers reached for the hem of your sweater and with a shakey breath and one more look around your surroundings, you lifted the fabric over your head. Leaving you only in a jankily cut tank top, with the scars littered on your back and arms exposed. The very scars you had avoided looking at were out for the world to see for the first time since you got them.
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The child was most definitely a womp rat.Â
It was like he knew when it was not the time to mess around, and decided to mess around. You had been bent down, working away at a panel mindlessly, not paying much attention to your surroundings. You were so close to being done and were consumed in the final bits of work. And the child had made his way out of the ship, waddling up behind you, reaching for you without you being aware of it. You were lost in the gruel of work, in the warm feeling of the sun on your skin. You didnât know what was happening until it was too late. Until you head the footsteps.Â
You flipped around, looking over to the child and then hearing the Mandalorians boots pound on the ramp leading outside. The child let out a squeak at the sight of his dad and it was too late. Dinâs head whipped to look over right as your turned around, desperately reaching for your jacket or sweater to cover your skin. You knew it wasnât on purpose. You knew the kid had probably escaped and Din was just worried about him leaving the ship. You knew he was just worried about the kids whereabouts. It wasnât malicious or an excuse to look. It was just happenstance but it was still too late.Â
âIâm sorry. The kid was napping and I turned around and then he disappeared and-â You heard the abrupt pause in his babbling and knew he saw. Knew he saw the dozens of marks on your back and arms that faced him. Saw the scars that were an almost white color but still very apparent. Saw the scars you so desperately tried to cover.Â
You slowly turned around, feeling your chest cave as this part of you was exposed. Tears pricked at your eyes as you saw Din look at you. The child cooed with curiosity, not quite understanding the gravity of the moment. âWho did this to you?â
You heard the tone of his voice loud and clear. He was angry and sounded like a man ready to kill. You knew he wouldnât like seeing it but even you didnât understand how much this hurt Din to see. To see his sweet one so hurt and scarred. To see that someone did something so awful to you, something you would always keep as a reminder. âDin-â
âTell me who.â He wasnât messing around. He didnât want to hear you try to calm him or change the conversation. He wanted to know who was responsible for your pain.
You let out a sigh. âLetâs go inside.âÂ
You picked up the kid, cursing him mentally for being so curious, and your other hand reached for your box of tools until you saw the Mandalorian reach for them. He followed you as you walked up the ramp, into the Razor Crest. You set the child into his little hammock, handing him one of his small toys to keep him preoccupied as the Mandalorian closed the hatch, locking out the outside world. The world that had caused you and him so much pain. You were back in your ship, your bubble where there was joy and love.
âWho did that to you?â He repeated, more evenly but you still heard the rage dripping off his words. His fists were clenched tightly and his helmet was aimed right towards you. You couldnât see his eyes but you felt like they were burning into your skin.
âThis Imperial leader...â You took a deep breath in and out before continuing. âWhen they found my family, my grandmother wasnât anywhere around. And they wanted her most. So, they tortured me, hoping I would give up her location. But, I didnât know and now... Iâve got this ugly, horrible reminder.â
The air was heavy around you as a single tear slipped out. Din didnât say anything or move. Even the child sat quietly in his hammock, big eyes staring at the two of you. You went to finally put your sweater on when Din finally interrupted with a small âWait.â
You looked up at the man in front of you. Din brought his hands together, slowing taking off one of his gloves finger by finger until he switched to take the other off. âDo you trust me?âÂ
You didnât have to think about it. You just responded with a nod of the head and watched as Din dropped the gloves and slowly stepped towards you, like you were an injured animal he didnât want to scare away. You still held the sleeve of your sweater limply in one hand, the rest of the fabric resting on the floor of the ship. Part of you still wanted to crawl into it, hide yourself, and pretend Din hadnât seen a thing. But it was too late for that and in all honesty, you trusted Din Djarin so much. It had only been a matter of maybe a few months since you had joined him and the kid. But it felt so much longer. It had been the first time in so long that you felt safe and cared about, and you didnât know how Din felt but you hope he shared the same feelings.
You almost gasped when Dinâs hand reached out to grab your arm. It was surprisingly gentle, his fingers felt like they were just barely holding on to you. His fingertips were calloused but not rough. They gently traced the bare skin of your arm, one hand holding your wrist and the other beginning to dance along your skin. Din raised his helmet to look at you quickly and you nodded, letting him know what he was doing was okay. Not just okay, but welcomed. Dinâs helmet turned back down to your arm as he watched his fingers trace the warm, sun kissed flesh.
Dinâs fingers ran up the length of your arm, going from the forearm to your bicep. He moved your wrist slowly in the opposite direction, wanting you to turn around. You slowly turned, no longer facing the Mandalorian. His hands dropped from your arms and part of you wanted to whine at the lost of contact. But then Din moved your hair gently in front of your shoulders and you knew he now had a complete view of your back, besides the flimsy fabric of your tank top. His fingers returned to your skin, this time each one to each of your shoulders. You closed your eyes, trying to hold back tears, as you felt one of Dinâs fingers trace one of your scars. It sent a spark through your body. His touch was so gentle and so kind and it was like he was purifying the marks, no longer making them something so ugly and twisted. The skin to skin contact was minimal, but so electrifying and warm. It made your whole chest feel warm and you realized you had never had someone do something for this like you. You never had someone take your broken pieces and try to make you whole. Nobody had ever treated you so gently because you didnât let this part of you show.Â
But with Din it was so easy to. And so safe.Â
âSweet girl...â He barely whispered the words, but you heard them as he continued to work all over your back.Â
A tear slipped down your cheek at the name, the name he made for you. A name you didnât have to ask for and didnât expect. But one he gave you, to make you feel cared for because that you deserved. And Din knew that.Â
âDin...â You didnât really have anything to say but you just wanted to feel his name slip from your lips. It was so comforting.
âDo you know how beautiful you are?â
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Din sat in the cockpit with the child in the seat beside him, bundled up and asleep, as she took a shower. His hands were still shaking and his gloves were back on but his fingers felt like they were burning. He had stood there, probably for a good hour, just touching her skin. He didnât even know why he had done it. Why that had seemed like a good idea for him to do. For all he knew, the last thing in the world she wanted was for him to touch him. But, as soon as he grabbed onto her skin with his bare hands, he felt himself melt into and felt like maybe she had too.Â
The moment had been so vulnerable. She stood there, scars and all, and let herself be consoled by him. And he was vulnerable too. He exposed himself a little bit to her, letting himself delve into every part of her. She was so soft but so strong. He never doubted once her ability to protect herself and the kid. He didnât think she was fragile. He just saw she was a human being, one who needed to be shown how perfect they were. How beautiful they were.
Because, Maker, she was so beautiful to him. Every part of her was perfect to him. And all he wanted was to show her that.
His train of thought was broken as he turned his head, listening as she made her way up the ladder to the cockpit. She stepped in and Din swore he could have stayed in this moment forever.
"I, uh, hope you donât mind. I borrowed one of your shirts.â
Din didnât mind at all. The sight of her in one of his shirts nearly gave him a heart attack but he still didnât mind. The shirt was slightly too big on her, swallowing most of her midsection but fell by her thighs. Her hair was still damp from her shower and he was used to it being up in a pony tail. But now it fell down her shoulders and back.Â
He realized he was staring at her and cleared his throat quickly. âNo. Not at all.â He gave her a small smile without even thinking about the helmet blocking his face and felt silly. She couldnât see his face but he could look at her whenever he wanted, bask in her beauty and warmth.Â
âSo, where are we going now?â
When she had been showering, Din had left Arvala-7 and put the Crest into hyperdrive. He had something that he wanted to do. Something he felt he needed to do. âNavarro.â
Her eyebrows scrunched up a little, in a way that Din adored. âWhy Navarro?â
âI have something I have to do there. It will just be a quick stop.â He hoped his answer left little room for questions or further conversation and was content when she nodded and walked closer to him.Â
âOkay.â She paused, looking over at the sleeping child and smiled at the sight. Din loved seeing her with the kid. She was tough but with the kid, she was so maternal. He could see how much they loved each other. It made him so happy that the kid had someone else beside him, someone who he could look at as a mother. âI should probably get him to bed.â
âYeah. You need some sleep too. You worked hard today.â
âIt was honestly kind of nice, working on the ship. Felt like the old days a little.â Her gaze drifted back to him, a warm smile still on her face. âDin, I just wanted to say-â She paused, seeming to fumble for words but he stopped her.
âDonât worry about it.â
Din saw her turn, arms reaching out for the child when she suddenly dropped them and turned around. She stood in front of Din, looking down at his helmet which was tilted up at her. She paused before slowly lowering her head down, laying her forehead against his helmet with eyes closed. Din could tell she was shaking a little but he just reached forward and grabbed her wrist. His thumb drew small circles.
Din was pretty certain that she didnât know what a keldabe kiss was or the importance of it. As far as he was aware, she had a very limited knowledge of Mandalorians and was always willing to learn. But her not being aware of how monumental this moment was for Din was almost even better. The fact that she was making him feel so cherished without realizing showed how good of a person she truly was.
She eventually pulled away with a shy smile and Din dropped her wrist lightly. She turned around, grabbing the bundle the child was in, and turned towards him one last time. âGoodnight, Din.â
âGoodnight, sweet one.â
Din watched as she walked away with the kid in her arms, going down to the hull of the Crest. And that was when he realized something.
This must be what falling in love feels like.Â
#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin imagine#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian#din djarin x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian imagine#star wars#star wars imagine#star wars fanfiction#grogu#baby yoda#writing
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The Change
Chaper Two of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 9.9 K
Warnings: graphic depictions of violence. there is a scene towards the end that isn't exactly torture, but it is pretty graphic so please read with caution!, a bit of angst, and grief (talking about loss).... if thereâs anything I missed please let me know so I can update it
Summary: You and Mando on your way to Nevarro so he can collect the bounty on your head but something happens, forcing you to land on another planet, and you begin seeing him in another light
Hope you guys like it!!Â
Tagged: @1800-fight-meâ𧥠// @tillytheslytherinâđ§Ą
As the Mandalorianâs shipâRazor Crest, climbs higher and higher into the sky, the sunâs beginning to rise over the city. Taking one last look at the capital, you mentally add âgetting snatched by a bounty hunterâ to the list of things you hate about Kijimi.
Maker, the silence in the cockpit is deafening. The Mandalorian doesnât acknowledge you at all, his helmet glued to the windshield of the ship. You think about saying something, anything to break the awkward tension that seems to be multiplying in the small area of the cockpit, but from the very short time youâve been with him, you donât get the impression that he likes to talk. So awkward silence it is.
Once in the atmosphere, the Mandalorian prepares to make the jump to hyperspace. The starsâ light twinkles off his chrome helmet, and youâre too busy staring at him to notice another ship zip across the windshield, and then within seconds, the radarâs alarm is blaring through the cockpit. The shrill sound is piercing your ears and your eyes wrench shut, as if to try to block the noise out.
Two green beams of light appear out of nowhere, skimming the shipâs hull, and as the enemy spacecraft comes back into your peripheral for just a few seconds, your jaw nearly drops to the floor when you recognize whose ship it is.
Itâs your ship. Someone is inside your ship, shooting at you. âThatâs my ship!â You shriek, jumping to your feet and quickly making your way to the window. The Mandalorian says nothing in response, just letting out a couple of grunts and huffs. Your ship continues to bombard you with green beams, but the hunter is sharp enough to evade each shot. The jolts cause you to lose balance, and because your hands are still bound, it becomes more difficult for you to keep yourself upright without falling over onto the control panel.
âGet back in your seat,â The Mandalorian says through his visor. His voice is calm but stern. If he was panicking at all, his voice doesnât give you the slightest suspicion.
You open your mouth to protest, to beg him not to shoot your ship down, to plead with him, but you know it would be a battle you couldnât possibly win. Fumbling back into the seat to his right, a shot narrowly misses one of the thrusters and hits just above the belly of the ship. It sends you flying out of the seat, and you land on the ground hard, your shoulder taking the brute of the hit.
You hear two more blasts explode against the ship. The Crest is taking a lot of damage right now, but the Mandalorian manages to stay quiet during the entire ordeal.
âLet her go, Mandalorian.â A distorted voice comes through the radio.
Time seems to stop. The sirens still blaring through the cockpit penetrate your ears less and less until they are just a bunch of muffled clamors. That voice can only be from one person. The only other person in this galaxy that knows how to hijack your ship, and actually be able to fly it.
Tye.
Without any warning, the Crest begins a steep incline, and just as youâre finally able to seat yourself back in the chair, pulling the seatbelt across your torso and clicking it into place, the Crest flips upside down. If it werenât for you being strapped in, youâd be flailing around the cockpit. The ship does a full circle before straightening out right behind your ship. The Mandalorian begins firing, three shots immediately pierce the hullâs integrity. The dark nothingness of space is suddenly luminated by a giant inferno; your ship begins plummeting back down towards Kijimi. You want to scream, to rush over to the pilotâs seat and scream into the radio hoping Tye would respond, but your body feels weighed down, like your limbs refuse to work.
As you watch your ship plummet towards the city, life drains from your body. For a moment, everything is still and fast at the same time. You had come to terms with your fate, you arenât an optimistânot anymore anyway, but when you saw your ship, a flameâno, a glint of hope started to build in your bones. Maybe the Maker was giving you another chance. You were dead wrong.
Once the blaring alarm quiets, the Mandalorian initiates the jump sequence. The whole thing is over within minutes.
The Crest doesnât spend much time in hyperspace though, because now the hyperdrive alarm is blaring again and youâre both launched right out, the ship spiraling in open atmosphere. The Mandalorian swears under his breath and begins frantically pressing buttons in an attempt to get you back into hyperspace. Despite his efforts, heâs unable to make the jump.
âDank farrik,â The vocoder comes out strained.
âOne of the shots must have damaged the hyperdrive.â You find yourself saying.
âYes.â Is all you get.
He changes course and begins descending towards a planet youâve never seen before. From space, the planet looks mostly swamp green, nothing particularly breathtaking or enticing.
âWhat is that?â Youâre not really expecting an answer, just asking out loud, and youâre surprised because he actually answers you this time.
âSorgan.â
Youâve heard of Sorgan. Some of your crew had resided on the planet since there was a spice smuggling base located there. Given the fact that Sorgan was a relatively unobtrusive planet, it was smart idea to put a camp. It was mostly covered in thick, dense forest which enabled the camp to be hidden fairly easily. Landing on Sorgan was a blessing in disguise. You could possibly send a message to the base there and maybe, just maybe, get rescued. Almost immediately you could feel excitement tingle your nerves. Okay, maybe you hadnât lost.
Entering Sorgan airspace, the Mandalorian searches for a forest glade. It doesnât take long for him to spot a small clearing just at the edge of a foliage of massive pine. He descends slowly, making sure not to hit any trees on the way down. You canât help but be impressed by his flying abilities. He pilots like it is second nature to him. Always maintaining his cool demeanor, even if he is being shot at. Despite the fact that you resent him for possibly murdering the only person left you considered family and stealing your freedom, that aviator part of you is enthralled by the Mandalorian.
Once firmly landed, he cuts the engine and steps out of his seat.
âStay here,â His voice is as deep as ever, not bothering to meet your eyes as he walks through the door to the cockpit and begins to descend down the ladder.
You linger in your chair for a few minutes, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. Youâre not sure how much time you might have to send a message to your fellow smugglers, but you also donât want to waste any more time waiting on him to come back. Fumbling slightly with your seatbelt, you all but leap towards the pilotâs chair to get to the radio. You finger toggles over the button to record your message. Why are you hesitating?
Chewing on your lip, and letting a deep breath exhale through your nose, you fight the urge to retreat back in your seat. Just as youâre about to record, you hear footsteps on the ladder behind you.
âFuck, fuck fuck fuckfuck,â you curse under your breath and you scramble to get back to your seat without the Mandalorian seeing you. You hear his boots hit the metal floor just as your butt hits the chair. The beskar helmet peaks through the doorway of the cockpit as if heâs just checking to see if you followed his orders.
âNo, I havenât moved,â you say to him, annoyingly.
âCome down.â He instructs, turning on his heel and already making his way down the rungs of the ladder.
âWhy?â
The Mandalorian stops in his tracks, âBecause I canât keep an eye on you if youâre in the cockpit.â
You really donât want to go down there. Not because youâre scared heâll throw your ass in carbonite, but because if he gets you down there, youâll have no reason to get back up here and send out a message to any smuggler who might want to help you. Â
âYou can trust me.â Itâs a desperate attempt. Usually you can use your charm to bend others to your will, but the Mandalorian is unlike anyone youâve ever met. You already know it wonât work.
âNo.â
Pressing your hands down on your knees, you push yourself to your feet. You eye the control panel one last time and actually consider locking yourself in the bridge just long enough to get a message out. While the idea becomes more and more tempting by the second, you need to be smart about this. If you plan on escaping or getting a message out, it has to be perfectly timed and planned. It didnât take him long to catch you, and you need to be a lot smarter the next time around.
So you head down the ladder like he told you to. The ramp is down, and your feet irk to run down the ridge and escape into the lush forest in front of you. Every instinct inside of you is screaming to run, to take your chances and hope to lose him in the fog of the greenery, but you have no idea where you are on this planet. You have no idea if the camp is relatively close to you or not. If you ran now, youâd have no supplies, no sense of direction, never mind the fact that your hands are still bound.
First things first then; get him to release the shackles.
Heâs currently inspecting the damage Tye inflicted on the Crest. The hull of the ship is smoking, and thereâs a few new dents on the sides of the ship, but there isnât any damage that a couple daysâ worth of work wouldnât be able to fix. Luckily for you, that gives you a couple days to think of the best way to take off.
Not entirely sure where to go, you stay by the ladder, standing like an awkward kid waiting to be told what to do.
The Crest is much bigger than you thought it was. Most of the space inside the ship is housing the carbonite chamber with the three other companions youâre convinced youâll end up joining. Next to the chamber is what you assume is a locker full of armory. You make a mental note to raid that locker before your escape. To your left, thereâs a narrow, small cubicle that could only be used for sleep. Even though the door is closed, you can tell that itâs already too cramped for the Mandalorian, and you wonder how he can fit in such a tiny space.
Honestly, youâre more concerned about whether or not heâs ever had anyone in there with him. Surely if the space is too small for him, then he couldnât possibly have had any lovers in there with him, right? Heat begins to coil in your stomach and the thought of that makes you shift in your stance. You really shouldnât be thinking of whether or not the Mandalorianâs fucked anybody in his poor excuse of a bed, but you canât help yourself. Itâs been a long time since youâve had the pleasure of being with a man or even taken care of yourself and it doesnât help that the Mandalorian exudes this ferocious confidence and control. Does that make you wonder if heâd still as controlling when heâs balls deep inside you? Would be still be quiet like he is now, or would he be a babbling mess?
âHey.â The voice pulls you out of your thoughts and causes you to jump.
The Mandalorian is standing just arms distance away from you, and stars, he is an absolute sight. Built like a monumentâtall, firm and fucking intimidating. In your everyday life, you always walked with your head held high, refusing to show any weakness, but right now? Your head is down, only peering up at him through hooded lids. Something about the Mandalorian scratches a primal instinct in you that youâve only observed in animals. Predator, preyâyouâre giving up control, and whatâs worse is that you actually like it. When it came to lovers, you had always been the dominant one. Every run youâve made since you can remember, you were the one calling the shots, ordering your comrades around, but in the very short time youâve known the Mandalorian, you can tell he likes control, and order.
You should hate him. You shouldnât feel this kind of attraction for him, but despite your efforts, itâs there. You areattracted to himâhe basically owns you now; it definitely shouldnât turn you on as much as it does.
âSorry?â You manage to choke out. Your throat is bone dry and Maker, you swear if he was any closer, heâd be able to hear your heart fucking hammering in your chest. His gloved hand reaches out and grabs the binds on your wrists. Itâs not even his fucking bare hand but it has you holding back a moan. You wrench your eyes shut hoping it will alleviate some of the tension building between your legs.
âIâm going to unbind you,â The voice behind the helmet begins to say. âBut if you run, I will catch you again and I wonât hesitate to throw your ass in carbonite. Do you understand?â It comes our breathy, almost like being this close to you is affecting him the same way itâs affecting you.
You canât find any words, now. All you can do is nod slowly because your mind is on fucking fire being this close to him and you want to rip off that helmet and crush your lips together but also you want to drop to your fucking knees and show him how much heâs affecting you.
The grip on your wrists relaxes and heâs taking the binds and tossing them to the floor of the ship. You continue to stand just a few feet from each other. The visor is too dark to make out his eyes, and you curse the Maker for it. Youâve heard stories about Mandalorians. How they never take off their helmets in front of others, how they swear to the Creed to live a life of anonymity. You couldnât possibly imagine living that way. It sounds incredibly restricting, but you do respect it. Everyone has their own beliefs in this world, and you arenât one to judge another for the path theyâve chosen. Look at yourself, you were a nobody mechanic and then you became a spice smuggler. The path youâve chosen isnât exactly noble, so who are you to judge how the Mandalorians choose to live their lives?
It takes you a couple of seconds to realize heâs no inches away from your face. Heâs halfway down the ramp when he calls you.
âLetâs go.â
You stumble for a couple steps and then pick up a small jog to catch up with him. The walk is a little uncomfortable now due to the slickness between your thighs, but you push through it.
âWhere are we going?â You ask once youâre by his side. You look up at him but when he answers you, he keeps his attention peeled to the landscape in front of him.
âThe hyperdrive was damaged.â His strides are much larger than yours, and you need to trot to keep up the pace. âI saw a town not too far from here. Hopefully thereâll be someone there that can help.â
You spot the townâbarely a town, itâs just a couple of huts and then a bigger one at the centre. You wonder how anyone would choose to live here. Itâs too quiet, too uneventful. There are a couple merchants selling krillâyou know Sorgan exports a lot of krill and is basically the only way farmers make a living here.
You enter the common houseâmaybe itâs an inn, youâre not entirely sure. Itâs nothing like the cantinas on Kijimi or Tatooine or any of the other planets youâve visited. Itâs ridiculously quiet and charming. There arenât any patrons playing sabacc and screaming at one another when one of them loses, or others getting incredibly intoxicated on spotchka and brawling on the floor of the bar. Just a couple of humble farmers, some making a pit spot, and other locals keeping to themselves. Itâs refreshing and also unnerving. Youâre used to the commotion of more lively planet cantinas, staying in the shadows and observing, making sure youâd be ready in case someone tried to pick a fight with you. Thereâs no need for that here. Not only does everyone in this place look completely harmless, but youâve also got a fucking Mandalorian on your left, and you doubt anyone would be stupid enough to try to fight him.
Unlike your choice to sit in the back of the common house, the Mandalorian chooses a table smack in the middle of the room. Thatâs the difference between a Mandalorian and a smuggler. You would rather choose a quiet place to sit, not drawing any attention to yourself. Heâon the other hand, doesnât put that much thought into where they should sit. Smugglers are always being hunted. Mandalorians? No one wants to fight them.
Once seated, you tense immediately. There are voices behind you, and not being able to keep track of what theyâre saying, or if they move really distresses you. Granted, you doubt anyone here has a mean bone in their body, but you stay on edge regardless.
One of the women behind the counter takes notice of your arrival. Patting her hands clean on her apron, she walks over to you.
âCan I interest you in anything, travelers?â She asks, all smiles.
Her immediate kindness puts you at easeâslightly.
Before you can ask for some spotchka, the Mandalorianâs vocoder cuts through the helmet.
âIs there anyone here that can repair a ship?â
Her brows pull together tightly, pressing a finger to her chin. âHmm⊠Iâm afraid youâre out of luck. Sorgan is a farming planet, and we donât get many visitors around here.â
He sighs, and you peek down from the woman standing over you to see his fist ball up on the table. âFine.â It comes out strained, like itâs taking all his strength not to blow up and scream.
âWould you like anything else?â She asks again. âMaybe something for you, maâam?â Shifting her body to face you, you open your mouth to answer, but the Mandalorian speaks first. âNo, thank you.â
You whip your head to face him. You may be a quarry, but you still have Âsome rights.
âActually,â You point out, still looking at the helmet that burns right into you. âIâd like a bottle of your finest spotchka, please.â
He tilts his head just enough for you to notice, fist still balled up on the table. The lady seems to take notice of the tension, but she says nothing further. She simply nods and retreats to the bar. Returning swiftly with a bottle in one handâtwo cups in the other, she places them between you two. You reach into the side thigh pocket of your pants and pull out a handful of credits and place them in her hand. She nods in gratitude. âLet me know if thereâs anything else I can do for you.â
âThank you.â The hunter grits through his teeth.
Immediately you pour yourself a glass and throw it back, a couple droplets leaking from the corners of your mouth. Using the back of your hand, you wipe your mouth clean. You know youâll probably regret the little stunt you just pulled, but itâs been a long fucking day and you just want to relax for a bit.
Okay, so maybe youâre not entirely relaxed because thereâs a Mandalorian just a few feet away from that seems to be getting more and more cross the longer you stay in the common house, but you also want to see how far you can press him before he snaps. Besides, he shot down your ship. You deserve this.
Three more glasses of spotchka later, and youâre feeling warm inside. The kind of warm that lowers your defenses and makes you giggle at everything. The kind of warmth that releases the tension thatâs nestled in the deepest corners of your body, and makes your vision a little fuzzy. Itâs probably early evening now, because the common house is getting livelier. They must be coming in for a meal.
âGet up,â The Mandalorian orders, rising to his feet.
âSo soon?â You pout. Youâre definitely feeling the effects of the spotchka.
âWeâve wasted enough time here. Now get up, weâre leaving.â
Normally, youâd fight till your last breath, but with the alcohol swimming in your blood, your inhibitions are lowered, and youâre way too relaxed to actually get your brain to fight back. Besides, thereâs barely any spotchka left and you donât have any more credits to spend.
Getting to your feet is a little bit of a struggle. Once standing up, the room starts spinning. Not enough to completely knock you off balance, but enough to make it difficult to stand without swaying. Turning on his heel, the Mandalorian heads for the door, cape mimicking his movements. Your legs arenât moving as fast as youâd like them too, and the spotchka is really getting to your head, now. You drank a lot more than you should have.
Luckily youâre able to catch up to him, somewhat out of breath though. He doesnât say anything to youâno surprise there. As you stumble through the forest, thereâs a gentle breeze in the air. Tree branches creak as the wind passes through, and stray hairs from your ponytail brush across your flushed cheeks. Youâre too preoccupied with enjoying the clean, fresh air to notice heâs now a couple feet ahead of you. The cape attached to his armour flows in the gentle breeze. Stars, youâre completely captivated by him. By the way he carries himself, like thereâs not a shred of self-doubt behind that armor, and you want to know everything about him. Now that youâre pretty drunk, the thoughts you pushed away can roam freely in your mind. Â When was the last time he took off that helmet? Why did heâa Mandalorian, decide to be a bounty hunter? How many quarries has he captured in his life? How old is he? Are Mandalorians allowed to have sex with non-Mandalorians? Your mind is coming up with an endless number of questions, but you never find the strength to ask.
âYou know, you could have asked me to help with the ship,â The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. The Mandalorian stops in his tracks and waits for you to catch up to him. Once youâre at his side, he turns his head to look in your direction.
âWhat?â Deep, rough, and somewhat irritable.
Your shoulders shoot up and down twice, body swaying with the breeze. âIâm a mechanic.â
âYeah.â He says, brushing off yours words and resuming his tread.
âNo, seriously.â Chasing after him, you want to reach out and grab hold of his arm, but you catch yourself before you do.
âJust how much spotchka did you drink?â He taunts, voice condensing like heâs scolding a child.
âI⊠donât know.â Holy maker, did you drink an entire bottle to yourself?
The Mandalorian actually scoffs at you. If you could see his face, youâre certain heâd be rolling his eyes at you.
âOkay, well I used to be.â You clarify, still struggling to keep up with his gigantic strides. Kriff how fast does he walk? âCan you just stop walking for a second, please?â
âNo.â
You let out a loud, childish groan. At this point you basically have to run to keep up with the hunk of metal heading back to his ship.
âI used to repair ships with my father on Tatooine.â Your tone is breathy, your lungs trying to get as much fresh air as possible.
This makes him pause. Turning around, the âTâ of his visor looking directly at you. Stopping at armâs-length away from him, you bend forward, hands resting on your knees. He gives you time to regulate your breathing.
âI can fix the hyperdrive. Iâve been doing it since I can remember.â You try to assure him. You donât even know why youâre offering your help. The longer it takes to fix, the longer your freedom lasts, but the alcohol has made you soft, more accommodating. Seeming to come out of nowhere, your vision becomes extremely blurry. You swear thereâs now two Mandalorians in front of you. Blinking profusely, your eyesight doesnât clear. You feel like youâre floating while simultaneously being pulled to the ground. Fighting to keep your eyes open, you feel your limbs cave in, and everything gets dark.
The sound of crackling fire wakes you up. It must be late, because the fire is the only source of light. How did you get here? The last thing you remember was walking through thick forest with the Mandalorian and now youâre laying by a fire, back near the Crest. You canât remember the last time you actually passed out from drinking so much. The spotchka here has to be stronger than any other time youâve had it. You can handle your drink, and this is downright embarrassing.
Wait, did he actually carry you back to the ship? Despite the little stunt you pulled back at the common house? He could have easily thrown you into carbonite once you both got back to the ship and you wouldnât have even known it, but for some reason, he chose not to. You want to ask himâto show your appreciation, but you hesitate. Maybe just letting it slide is the right course of action.
Propping yourself on your elbows, you see the Mandalorian sitting on an old, mossy stump. Thereâs something between his legs, but you canât make out its features through the fire. Pushing yourself to your feet, you notice another stump just to your right. He must have put it there for you to sit once you woke up. You have a pounding headache, but the fireâs warmth helps a little.
You can now make out a few more details about the creature sat between the Mandalorianâs feet. It looks like a child, but you canât be sure. Your eyes must be deceiving you because it appears to be green, the type of green youâve only ever seen on the plains of Naboo.
Stars, its ears. Theyâre massive, just like its eyes. Your mouth curls into a smile. Itâs adorable. Youâve never been partial to kids. There was never something inside of you that longed for a child, or to take care of one, but this little thing at the Mandalorianâs feet is making you rethink anything negative youâve ever said about babies.
âWhatâŠis that?â You ask as you sit down on the stump he placed for you.
From the embers of the fire, you see the little thingâs eyes find you and it coos. Kriff, heâs so fucking cute.
âHeâs a foundling.â Oh, so itâs a âheâ.
You wait for him to explain, but the Mandalorian isnât one to talk or elaborate unless directly addressed or absolutely necessary. Continuing to examine the child from a distance, itâno, he, is also looking at you, almost like heâs studying you as well.
âHow did he come into your care?â
âHe was a quarry,â His voice is quiet, the modulator distorting his tone to make it raspier than usual.
âYou havenât delivered him yet?â
Your eyes shift between the man in armor across the fire from you, and the small green alien-looking child between his legs. The Childâs head tilts from side to side as he watches you, the reflection of the flames glistening in his big black eyes.
âI did.â He deadpans and leaves you to fill in the rest of the blanks.
You want to bore him to death with questions. Why did he go back for him? Does this mean heâs its father? How does he plan to raise a child being a bounty hunter? Does that mean this kid will also become a Mandalorian?
None of these questions actually come out of your mouth, though. Given the circumstances, you donât think the Mandalorian even has a clue what heâll do, and itâs not really your place to bombard him with your curiosity.
So, maybe this Mandalorian was different from the stories youâve heardânot that youâve heard much honestly other than them being amazing killers, but if he went back for the Child, then maybe there was a soft, kind heart under all that beskar.
âI can do it.â Your voice is just loud enough for him to hear you. You continue to stare into the flames, waiting to see if heâll respond. He doesnât, but thatâs fine with you. Â
Youâre not entirely sure when you even fell asleep but when your eyes flutter open, youâre lying on the ground, back against the uneven terrain. Using the ground to push you up to your feet, you shake the dirt off your pants and begin stretching your back by twisting your torso until you hear a satisfying crack. Your mother used to scold you for cracking your back. âYouâre going to hurt yourself one day,â she used to say. When you were a kid, youâd roll your eyes at her and then sheâd give you a gentle but still stern slap across the arm, the kind of slap only a mother could get away with doing. You were never really one to listen to authority, so itâs a habit you never grew out of.
Itâs a beautiful day. The sun is beaming down on your skin, not a single cloud in sight. Sorgan is quite breathtaking, really. On most planets, no matter where you are, you can hear the commotion of city centres or see ships coming in and out of the atmosphere. Not on Sorgan, though. The only sounds youâre able to make out are tress swaying in the breeze, and the occasional bellow of the beasts in the forest.
The sound of the Child startles you. Heâs at your feet, little arms extending out to grasp the material of your trousers. When did he get here? You crouch down and wave your index finger at him, little coos emitting from the green baby. His three-fingered hand wraps around your finger. This warm calmness comes over you, putting you at ease. Untensing all your muscles, your aches disappear, and the only thing that exists is you and the Child. You close your eyes, completely giving into the stillness. Maker, you swear you can hear the Child say something. Your eyes are still closed, and you donât actually hear him say anything, but he is. You hear it in your mindâItâs faint and muffled, and you have to focus all your energy into narrowing down what heâs saying, and then it becomes as clear as day.
Grogu. Â
âGood. Youâre up.â
The Mandalorianâs voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Heâs headed straight for you, just as stoic as ever; the sunâs light ricocheting off the beskar. The Childâs grip slackens, and you straighten out to meet the Mandalorianâs gaze. Your breath hitches as he continues to make his way towards you. Something as simple as a walk shouldnât make you feel the way it does, but you canât help the way your body reacts to him. Shifting in your stance, you canât help but notice the heat building in your lower abdomen. Stars, get a grip. Heâs the enemy, you shouldnât allow yourself to feel this.
Leaning over, he picks up the Child and holds him with one arm. Almost immediately, you observe the way the Child wraps his tiny hand around one of the Mandalorianâs gloved fingers. Thereâs no stopping the stupid, shit-eating grin that appears on your face.
âThe hyperdrive.â
âRight.â You respond, the smile falls from your face and you stand there awkwardly for a few seconds. The Mandalorian turns his back to you and makes way for the Crest. You follow him like a lost puppy, keeping a couple feet distance between you and him.
Once inside, he sets the Child down on one of the cargo crates near the ladder leading up the cockpit. You head up the ladder first, and he quickly follows suit. To your left is a small cubby hole in the wall that accesses all the wiring to the hyperdrive. Itâll be a nightmare to crawl in and out of, but you offered your services to him, so you canât turn back now.
âIâll get straight to work, then.â Turning away from him, you crouch down to your knees to examine the damage. There are various wires that are disconnected and thrown around, smoke emitting from one of the panels hidden inside the wall, and looks just about as worse as it can get. Youâve never seen anything this bad, before. How the Kriff was he able to fly this ship in such a horrible state? You start by grabbing a blue and red wire that hang loosely off the wall. A bit of copper and aluminum cords are splitting at the end of the cable which makes you think they might have touched each other causing some kind short circuit. Shrugging off the idea, you start to work.
After working on the hyperdrive for a couple hours, you decide to take a break. Climbing down the ladder near the cockpit, thereâs no sign of the Mandalorian or the Child. All of a sudden, youâre aware of how sticky your body feels. Dirty, grimy, and uncomfortable. Now would be the perfect time for a shower. You turn your head to the fresher behind you and consider taking one, but you donât want to intrude. Youâre still a quarry and you assume the Mandalorian wouldnât appreciate you taking a shower in his refresher. On your walk to the common house yesterday, you had spotted a lake not too far away. Maybe you could take one there. Then again, if you were to venture off, he might think youâve run off. Your eyes shift between the fresher and the outside.
âYou can clean up in the fresher.â Despite his tone always been low and rough, it still startles you. You whip your neck to see the Mandalorian leaning against the wall of the ship. You swear he wasnât there a second ago so to see him just a few metres away from you not only puzzles you, but sends immediate shockwaves to your cunt. You feel like youâre being stalked, and it shouldnât turn you on as much as it does. The Mandalorian is built like a goddamn Star Destroyer; one look at him and youâre instantly intimidated, almost scared. Youâve never met anyone who can be so big yet so quiet, so frightening yet also so caring. Itâs actually quite impressive. From his demeanor, no one would be able to guess heâs got a fucking kid back in his ship.
At first you want to protest, not wanting to push any boundaries or make either of you feel uncomfortable, but you know heâll end up winning any argument you try to make for yourself, so instead you give him a quick nod before turning on your heel to the refresher. You donât turn back to see if the Mandalorian is still looking at you, but your cheeks feel red hot anyway.
The fresher is pretty small considering the size of the ship, but if he somehow manages to fit in here, you have no problem. The water is warm, and cascades over your skin, instantly relaxing you. It feels amazing until it suddenly doesnât. Your arm is burning, itâs on fucking fire and then it hits you. Looking down at your arm, you see scorched skin and are reminded of your injury from⊠well youâre not quite sure how long itâs been since he captured you back on Kijimi. Itâs maybe been two or three days since. In the same moment, you realize you never got to put any bacta spray on it to stop any kind of infection. The skin surrounding the wound is turning a deep green-purple shade. Not a good sign.
âKriffâŠâ You whisper. You were supposed to put some bacta on it once you got back to your ship but obviously, things went differently than you expected. You take the bar of soap sitting on one of the ledges inside the fresher and begin washing away the dirt and sweat from the last couple of days, being extra careful when cleaning the area around your injury. Realistically, you could stay here for hours, letting the warm water drip down your figure, completely soothing your sore muscles and calming your mind, but you donât want to take up more water than necessary.
When you come out of the fresher, thereâs a pile of clean clothes resting on the rungs of the ladder. Tilting your head at the garments in front of you, you take them in your hands and smile to yourself. He must have gone out while you were working on the ship and somehow was able to find you some clean clothes. You change quickly, out in the open, hoping he wonât walk in and see youâokay maybe you do kind of hope heâll see you. Once youâre fully clothes, youâre pleasantly surprised to notice they fit you perfectly. The cargo pants hug your frame like a glove, and you canât help but notice they make your ass look great. Your tunic snatches your waist and is low cut enough for just the smallest amount of cleavage to pop through.
Taking the ladder two steps at a time, you reach the top in record time. You can see the smooth convex of beskar in the pilotâs chair, so instead of immediately resuming your work, you poke your head into the doorway of the cockpit. The Childâs pram rests on the seat to your left. Itâs closed which means heâs probably asleep in there.
âThank you for the clothesâŠâ Youâre not sure what to call him, since neither of us have actually properly introduced yourselves. However, youâre sure he knows your name given thereâs a bounty on your head.
He doesnât turn to face you, just continues whatever heâs doing. âMando,â He clarifies, somehow answering the question you were thinking. âAnd youâre welcome.â
You linger for a couple seconds, not entirely sure why. Heâs not much of a talker, but you still want to hear his voice. Before you can conjure up with something to say, he breaks the silence.
âWhen will you be done?â There isnât any annoyance in his tone, which is usually accompanied by that question. You heard it all the time when you worked back at the hangar. âHey lady, when are you going to be done?â, âWhat the Kriff is taking so long?â. Youâve grown to let those condescending questions roll off your back, but the Mandalorianâs tone is surprisingly gentle. Maker, are you falling for the Mandalorian?
âWell,â You begin, taking a few steps into the cockpit. Your hand comes up and latches onto your forearm, squeezing it. âI noticed that the hyperdrive was only functioning at 50% capacity before it broke down completely, and I was going to ask if you wanted it back at 100% before we takeoff because thatâll takeââ
âJust fix it enough for us to get back to Nevarro.â He interjects, the baritone coming out dry.
It catches you off-guard, but youâre quickly reminded once again that you arenât just somebody fixing the ship. You are a prisoner, and he doesnât actually owe you any more kindness. He was kind enough to let you live, let you clean yourself in his refresher, and give you clean clothes. Youâre chewing on the flesh inside your cheek, wondering if thereâs something else you should say, but nothing worth saying comes to mind. He must notice your presence still there, because he swivels the pilotâs chair to face you. You swallow the giant lump in your throat and shift in your stance.
âYouâre hurt.â
You glance over to your arm and then back to the visor. âItâs nothing.â
Pressing down on his knees to stand, the Mandalorian stalks towards you. Nerves and arousal are pooling in your stomach, now. Your chest is heaving as he gets closer. Stopping just at armâs length, a gloved hand reaches out and clasps just underneath your injured bicep. The touch makes you pull back, not because it hurts but because it feels too fucking amazing. Youâre seeing stars and heâs barely even touched you. Mouth agape, your breathing is so fucking uneven.
âThatâll need more than just cauterizing in order for it to properly heal,â His hand now moves down, ever so gently caressing your elbow. Your head dips down, unable to look at him directly. Itâs pathetic really. Youâre usually a fairly strong-willed person, who doesnât bend at the will of anybody. You stand tall, even despite your size. Others in the smuggling game have a huge respect for you and see you as a leader, but now youâre cowering under the Mandalorian. Youâd obey every one of his commands if he ordered it. All the power you hold, your bad habit of resisting authority would vanish in an instant if he pushed you.
âThereâs bacta spray in the medical kit near the armory. You should take care of that before it infects.â
Your brain is racing, and the ability to form words had completed disappeared. All you can offer is a barely noticeable nod. You want to stay in this moment for as long as you can. Just the two of you standing inches apart, the tension growing thicker and thicker in the small area of the cockpit. You wonder if he feels it, too. If he wishes for this intimate moment to last forever. Swallowing your nerves, your eyes shit from the floor up to the visor. Trying to gauge for some kind of reaction but even if he is affected by this, his body gives no sign of it. Must be all in your head, then.
The Mandalorianâs finally the one to break up your little moment. He lets go of your elbow and you fight back the moan that threatens to escape your lips. You want him to touch you again, anywhere and fucking everywhere. He sits back in the chair and rotates it towards the control panel, so his back is facing you again. You probably linger a little longer than you should before finally retreating back down the ladder to get the bacta spray.
Once the spray mists over the gash, you instantly feel relief. The strain you didnât realize was still in your body dissipates and you let out a deep breath through your lips. Thank the Maker for bacta spray.
The next few days go by relatively fast. Despite the awkward/sexual tension that clearly exists between you and Mando, youâre able to endure it. The encounters donât last that long anyway. Usually, heâll ask you about the progress on the hyperdrive. The conversations donât last particularly long, but itâs enough to work you up into a sweaty mess.
And if youâre being honest, you probably could have fixed the hyperdrive in two days. Youâre a damn natural when it comes to repairs, and youâve fixed hundreds of hyperdrives in worse shape believe it or not. But youâre were taking your sweet ass time, giving yourself more time to be with Mando. Itâs silly and childish, but you truly enjoyed his company, even though the conversations are mostly one sided.
Unfortunately though, the job had to get done. Once Mando noticed the hyperdrive had been fixed to 65% capacity, he was satisfied enough with your work. He decided youâd spend one last night on Sorgan and then leave at first light.
Youâre all sitting by the fire. The Child propped up on a stump between the two of you. The night is calm, not a single breeze passing through the trees. A clear sky showered in stars. Forgetting the fact that this is essentially your last night of âfreedomâ, youâre really loving this.
âTwenty thousand.â
Youâre in the middle of sipping bone broth you bought off a merchant in townâwith Mandoâs credits, when his voice catches your attention. âHmm?â You mumble, using the back of your hand to wipe the little dripples of soup that trinkle down your chin.
âYou asked me how much your bounty was,â His helmet stares into the fire a few feet away from him. The orange hues reflecting off the beskar.
Your lips form a thin line. You didnât know the New Republic had that kind of money to spend. Twenty thousand is a pretty generous bounty.
âWow, thatâs pretty high.â Thatâs actually really high. Itâs hard to make an honest living, and the New Republic throwing around thousands of credits like that makes you uneasy. Instead of using that as an incentive for other to hunt criminals, it should be distributed to those less fortunate. The thought makes you chuckle to yourself. A smuggler explaining how a government should be run. How noble of you.
âI wasnât born into this, you knowâŠâ Your voice trails off, unsure if Mando wants to hear you or not. The helmet turns in your direction, giving you permission to continue. The Child looks up at you and coos. Your eyes avert their gaze to stare into the flames.
Clearing your throat, you begin. âI was raised on Tatooine. My parents were lucky enough to own a hangar, so my dad worked there, and my mom was a seamstress. Just a couple of ordinary people.â You werenât particularly less fortunate than anyone else in your town. Your belly was always full, and you always had clean clothes on your back. Most of the residents in your village werenât as privileged but your parents were generous, offering what little excess they had was given those who couldnât afford food or clean garments.
Early on, they taught you never to flaunt what you had, always be humble when speaking to others, and to always be respectful. You loved your parents more than you could say, and ever since they died, you shut off a part of yourself. Heartbroken and alone, losing yourself in work seemed like the only way to cope with the loss. The more sorrow you felt, the more work you forced on yourself. If it werenât for Tye, youâre not sure if you would have been able to get through it.
And ever since then, you vowed never to let yourself experience any kind of love again. The risk was just too high. Not knowing if one day your loved one would come home or not, investing so much of your soul into someone, relying on them only to have it snatched away from you without warning; it just seemed foolish. When they died, you cried every morning and every night for months, until one night you vowed never to cry again.
And you havenât since.
People called you heartless, scum, cruel, but their words never managed to pierce the iron exterior you mentally built for yourself when your parents died. No one would be allowed to access that sensitive, caring part of you. Not even Tye. You loved him like a brother, but once that loss had punched through you, you could never look at him the same. There was a distance, now. Whether he knew it or not, he never confronted you about it. He gave you space, and when you were ready to let him back into your life, albeit not really back in, he never pressured you or expected your relationship to go back to how it was.
âSo when they passed, I just felt like I was lost. I needed to escape.â
âAnd smuggling was your only option?â Thereâs a hint of mockery in his tone.
âYeah, Iâm a smuggler and youâre a bounty hunter. We all make choices in life. Iâve made my peace with that.â Your tone comes out a little more defensive than it should, and you think about apologizing, but fuck it. You have nothing to lose anymore. Even if you thought he might not turn you in, the possibility of getting twenty thousand credits is too much of an opportunity to pass up on.
Neither of you speak for the rest of the night.
Youâre awakened by Mando nudging your feet with his. You snap out of deep sleep, rubbing your palms against your eyes. Sitting up, you moan softly and begin trying to adjust your vision to the Sorgan darkness. The only light that the night offers is the moonlight reflecting off Mandoâs armor. The helmetâs looking directly at you, and a finger comes up to where his mouth would be, signaling to be quiet. Still half-asleep, you nod.
Ever so slowly, you rise to your feet and quickly brush the dirt off your pants.
âGet to the ship,â He orders, voice low and gruff.
âWhatâs going on?â You whisper, still standing in place.
âHunters.â He says. âGet to the ship.â Mando orders again, his tone becoming much more assertive. You want to fight. Youâve never run from a fight before, and youâre not about to start now.
âI can help.â
Before having the chance to respond, red blasts come flying through the trees in the distance. Mando grabs you by the waist and shoves you behind him, shielding you with his body. âGet to the fucking ship!â He yells.
You want to argue with him, really you do. Realistically, you know he could probably take care of this himself, but that doesnât mean you want to cower away and hide in the ship while he takes care of business. Then panic swarms you.
The Child.
Your head whips back and forth, and the relief that comes over you when you catch sight of his pram just your left, the gloomy night shielding him from sight, instantly calms your nerves.
The shooting stops all at once, becoming eerily quiet. Mando pivots, trying to keep eyes all around him. Your body mimics his movements, even though youâre completely defenseless. Twigs snapping, bushes rustlingânot from the breeze, but from intruders trampling over them, coming closer. One, two, three, four hunters come into view, flanking you from all angles.
Okay, so this worse than you thought.
âAh, Mando!â One of them calls out, blaster pointed directly at Mandoâs chest.
âWe donât want any trouble, Mando,â Another pursuer taunts. âWe just want the girl.â
Fuck.
They begin drawing in closer. You donât want to underestimate Mandoâs ability to fight, but with four hunters closing in, and having only one blaster, youâre not seeing how he can win this. Youâre conjuring a plan inside your head and praying that heâll catch on. If someoneâs going to get credit for your capture, it sure as hell isnât going to be this gang of thugs.
âFine.â You throw up your hands in defeat, stepping aside from the shield that is Mando. You face the man directly in front of you, assuming heâs the one whoâs leading the charge.
âWhat are you doing?â Mandoâs voice is fucking low, somewhere between a whisper and a growl.
âTrust me.â Your tone gentle, eyes pleading with him.
You begin taking slow footsteps towards the blaster pointed now at you. âI can assure you, Iâm more valuable alive, so why donât we put our blasters down before someone gets hurts?â Arms still up, hesitating to take any more steps forward.
âYou think weâre stupid enough to listen to you?â One of them shouts behind you. You flinch on impulse. Your chest is heaving, but you need to a grip if you plan to walk away from this alive.
You can slightly make out the hunterâs features. He looks somewhat familiar, like when you see a stranger in a dream, but you canât pinpoint where youâve seen him before. Youâve encountered plenty of hunters before, maybe theyâre just all starting to look the same to you. Only Mando stands out, now.
The moonâs mellow and radiant reflection is starting to make out the hunterâs features. He doesnât look entirely human, but you donât manage to get close enough to actually see what he is.
âHi, sweetheart.â The hunter sneers, his mouth curling into a malicious grin.
Stopping dead in your tracks, you remember who this isâbut how? You shot him in the chest. You saw him fall. Sure, you didnât actually check to see if he was dead but how could anyone survive being blasted directly in the chest? You must be remembering wrong. No, he shouldnât be here. He canât be here.
âSurprised to see me?â
You refuse to show your disbelief, keeping your jaw tense. âNo, itâs just more target practice.â You spit.
Eerie laughter erupts from deep inside the man opposite you. Never slacking on the grip on his blaster, he shifts the barrel from your chest to directly between your eyes. OkayâŠwhat the fuck do you do now?
Mando and the kid are still a few feet behind you. Youâre running out of ideas, fast. If you went to attack your pursuer, heâd definitely shoot you before you got close enough to him, and the three behind you would shoot Mando down before he even had time to react. You need to play this out smart, maybe you couldâ
Before being able to finish your thought, you hear whistling, and bodies hit the ground. Instinctively, you want to look over your shoulder to see what happened, but thereâs still a blaster pointed at your face, and youâd be dead if you wasted even a second to turn around. Charging at him, you narrowly miss three blasts as they come flying by your cheek, shoulder, and neck. Once you feel close enough, you lunge at him, knocking you both to the ground. Your body lands on top of his, the blaster rolling a few feet away from your conjoined bodies. Grabbing hold of the lapel on his jacket, you wind up your fist and connect it with his jaw. He cries at the pain, retaliating by slamming his knee into your abdomen. The air is completely knocked out of your lungs, but you stifle the wail that threatens to spill you. You refuse to give him the satisfaction.
You reach out aimlessly for the gun, and the joy you get when you feel the gun in your hand is unmatched. Scrambling to your feet, and clutching the gun in your hand, you point it at him. Mando wastes no time rushing to your side, blaster also on him.
âDonât.â You tell him. No, you want this kill to be yours.
For a moment, you think heâll ignore you and shoot him anyway. The man on the ground, now resting on his elbows spits, droplets of blood landing on the ground, a small trail dribbling down his chin. It shouldnât bring you this much satisfaction, to see him bleed and completely at your mercy, but reason has escaped you. You want to hurt him; you want him to feel as much pain as any person can take. He threatened you, Mando, and the kid. Heâll pay for it, you promise.
âGo ahead, kill me.â The man swears. âBut know that weâre only the beginning. You think youâre the only one who got a tracking fob, Mando?â A smile curls up on the corners of his lips. Your body is hotâitâs actually scorching. This surpasses any emotion youâve ever felt before. The scalding need for blood and pain engulfs you. Youâre not even sure why you feel so angry, but you are.
âHunter scum,â You spit, kicking him hard in the stomach. More red fluid punches out of his mouth, causing him to cough aggressively.
âHey,â Mandoâs free arm grasps on to your bicep. âStop.â
Your headâs shaking violently. No, he needs to suffer. âNo, Iâm gonna savour this.â You swing your leg back to kick him again, but Mandoâs voice rips through the vocoder. âStop!â It comes out aggressive, like heâs giving you an order.
Your jaw is tight, every fiber in your body is telling you to shove Mando out of the way so you can wreck this hunter scum that lies at your feet.
âYou g-gonna let him order you around like that, sweetheart?â His last word cuts through you like a vibroblade to the chest. Your free hand balls up into a fist, white knuckling so hard, youâre sure youâre breaking skin with your nails. The man on the ground laughs, heâs fucking laughing at you and thatâs the final straw, the thing you needed to push you over the edge. Unclenching your fist, your hand shoots up and flexes around what you imagine is his neck. He coughs, and starts gasping for air. Shaky hands shoot up to his own throat, as if he thinks thatâll somehow relieve the pressure youâre creating. It feels good, seeing him fucking struggle for breath, watching the light behind his eyes becoming dimmer and dimmer. Itâs happening all too fast, and you want to take your time.
âFuck this,â Mando shouts, his blaster coming up and shooting the man in the heart. Your grip slackens, and you drop to your knees. Struggling for breath, one hand on your chest and the other on your knee, you feel like youâre going to pass out. Mandoâs drops to your side, a big, gloved hand resting on your back. Your body shudders at the touch and you pull away from him. Determined to put some space between you two, you straighten out, and take a couple steps back.
âWhat the hell happened there?â He tries not to startle you; his voice comes out a rough whisper.
Feeling your breathing evening out, your palms come out, trembling. You stare down at them, then to the corpse lying near Mandoâs feet, desperately trying to understand why you couldnât stop, why you couldnât control your anger. The words arenât forming, you canât bring yourself to understand how it happened.
âI-I donât know.â How could this happen? How could you let this happen?
A distorted sigh comes through the helmet. âWhere did you learn how to do that?â
âI didnât,â Your voice comes out as gentle as you can, given the circumstances. âIâve just always had it.â
Mando takes a step closer to you and halts; heâs asking for permission to get closer. You give him a barely noticeable nod and within seconds heâs towering over you. His hands twitch at his sides, and you wonder if heâs going to touch you, but he doesnât, and you start to believe that maybe a jail cell is exactly where you should be.
#the mandalorian#din djarin#Din Djarin x reader#the mandalorian x reader#star wars#the mandalorian x you#Din Djarin x you#mando x reader#mando x you#angst#tw:Â graphic depictions of violence#tw: grief#reader insert#the mandalorian fanfiction#we are one when together#fics
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Torture, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Whump Series: Part 3 of Whumptober 2021 Summary:
Whumptober 2021
Day 3- Sticks and Stones may break my bones but...
taunting | insults | âWho did this to you?â
His Padawan was missing.
That was the only thought going through Qui-Gon Jinnâs mind. It circled round and round as he deflected blaster bolts.
His Padawan was missing.
.
.
.
His Padawan was missing.
That was the only thought going through Qui-Gon Jinnâs mind. It circled round and round as he deflected blaster bolts.
His Padawan was missing.
He thought about Rael. About what had happened to his Padawan. Qui-Gon was ashamed to admit it but part of him had always judged Rael for his reaction to Nyms death, and his complete refusal to even contemplate taking on another Padawan. Of course, the circumstances were particularly difficult but to speak in such absolutes⊠It screamed of attachment.
Now though, now Qui-Gon understood.
His Padawan was missing.
The security base was drawing closer, the security droids rate of fire was increasing. Qui-Gon deflected them with a single-minded determination, decapitating the droids as soon as he got close to them.
Obi Wan was only a child. What kind of monsters⊠he breathed. Getting angry and de-humanising those who had taken his Padawan would not be helpful. It was a train of thought that led perilously close to the dark.
This was not supposed to be a dangerous mission. They were only on Hosnian Prime as a representative of the Order at the inauguration of their new democratic cycle. It was purely diplomatic, not a combat mission. Force it was a mission within the Core. They were the safest missions that it was possible to be assigned. Safe enough that bringing along his thirteen year old Padawan was encouraged if not demanded. It was the type of mission where no one should come to harm.
And yet he had awoken two standard cycles ago to the sound of a clash and when he had entered Obi Wans assigned room he was greeted with the sight of chaos and no Padawan.
From his investigations, the Hosnian system had been having some problems with a separatist faction that wanted the system to split away from the Republic, which had recently turned to terrorism. Of course, the planetary government had not felt it necessary to disclose that to the Senate or the Jedi until his Padawan was gone. If he had known, if they could have put together the proper security precautions⊠Anger burned in his chest again.
His Padawan was missing.
He tried to centre himself again. He couldnât deal in ifs. If he started to think in ifs then he would think on Obi Wans fate. What if he wasnât only missing. What if he wasâŠ
No Qui Gon thought. There was nothing good to be found if he followed that thought train.
He cut through the last droid and the blaster fire stopped. The Dura-steel door stood tall and imposing before him. He ignored the chatter of the Hosnian security forces behind him. There was no control pad for the door, nowhere where any keys could be entered. This door was meant to be opened from the inside.
âThatâs a blast-proof door,â the security captain said from behind him. âIâm sorry Master Jedi but there is no way we are going to be able to get through.â
Qui-Gon ignored him, relighting his light sabre and driving in through the door. The captain was right in some ways. The doors were blast-proof, and there was no way they would have been able to get through.Â
But it certainly wasnât Lightsaber proof.Â
The door glowed orange and Qui-Gon felt the slight give as it emerged from the other side of the door.
He moved to cut through the steel as if it was no more than cardboard before a smaller door had been cut within the main door. He pushed it forwards and it hit the floor with an echoing bang.Â
The hallway beyond was dark. The complex main lights had failed, a few still flickering before they died completely. The only light was the eerie orange glow of the few emergency fittings and the electric green glow of his lightsaber.
The hallway was empty. Qui-Gon could sense the panic of whoever had been in there, he could just about hear them scrambling for escape in the hallways beyond. He ignored them focuses on the small pulse in his head.
He could sense Obi Wan now. Their bond was worryingly quiet but it was there. It hadnât died.
His Padawan was close.
He strode forward. His footsteps echoed in the metallic hallway, making it sound like there was an army behind him. He sped up, not checking to make sure if the security force was following him. Qui-Gon didnât care. He only had one thought. He had to get to his Padawan.
He rounded the corner. Two further droids were stood in the space. They barely had time to turn towards him before he had swung his lightsaber and their heads had fallen to the floor. They crumpled where they stood, Qui-Gon stepping over their forms as he walked deeper into the complex.
The bond was getting stronger. He had to be getting closer. He tried to send a sense of reassurance to Obi Wan, to tell him he was coming.
He got no response.
Qui-Gon was able to pick up some emotions through the bond now. Obi Wanâs shields were failing, emotions bleeding into the force.
His Padawan was panicking. And in pain.
He felt another flare of anger. Someone hadnât just taken his Padawan, they had hurt him.
He felt a desire for retribution, he wanted to hurt these people like they had hurt his Padawan. He had to centre himself again. He would be of no use to Obi Wan if he kept thinking those thoughts. His Padawan did not need a Master that was touching the dark.
He reached an intersection of the hallways. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, reaching out into the force. Searching.
Below. Obi Wan was below him. He set off down the left path, his steps quickening as the path circled downwards. The metal walls gave way to stone, the artificial hallways becoming a natural cave. Â
The light was even worse here. There were no artificial lights at all. He moved forward, his path only illuminated by the green glow of his sabre.Â
There were multiple small off-shoots of the cave but Qui-Gon knew which one he had to aim for. After all, it was the only one that had been fitted with a shining new Dura-steel door.
His Padawan was behind them. He was sure of it.
Qui-Gon drove his lightsaber into the door control panel, no longer having the patience to try and slice into it. The door sagged in its housing as whatever current keeping it sealed failed. Â He pushed it aside, drawing on the force to help him move the heavy metal.
The inside of the cell was pitch black.Â
He walked in lightsaber first.
His Padawan was sat hunched in the corner.
Obi Wan flinched away from him, away from the light and Qui Gon lowered the blade.
Recognizing him Obi Wan tried to stand, to move towards him but he barely made it two steps before he fell to the floor with a pained groan.
Qui-Gon rushed forward, forgetting about any of the adversaries in the complex, forgetting about the Hosnian Security Force, forgetting about all confines of their mission. His Padawan was hurt. That is all that mattered.
âPadawan.â Qui Gon dropped his hands to Obi Wans face. Bruises were marring his usually pale skin. He could see a bloodstain on his tunic, and one of his Ankles was twisted in a way that looked desperately painful.
This is my fault Qui-Gon thought dully It is my responsibility to protect a Padawan and look what had happened. He never should have taken one on. He clearly wasnât capable enough for the job.Â
âPadawan, who did this to you?â
Obi Wan didnât seem to hear him.
âI didnât tell them, anything Master.âÂ
Obi Wan seemed desperate. He grabbed hold of Qui-Gons arm, staring at him imploringly.
âI swear it. I told them nothing. I didnât tell them any of the Orders secrets.â
At Qui-Gons shocked silence Obi Wan grew even more frantic.
âYou have to believe me, Master. I promise they didnât get anything out of me, please donât leave me. I didnât betray the order. Please let me come back.â
At this moment Qui-Gon could not have cared if Obi Wan had told his captors the detailed schematics for the Jedi Templeâs security system. He just wanted him to be safe.
âOf course I believe you, Obi Wan.â
Obi Wan deflated as if all the strings that had been supporting him had been cut.Â
âMaster⊠Iâm Tired Master.â
âYou have to stay awake Padawan.âÂ
Qui-Gon glanced around. There was still no sign of the Security Forced. He had to get them out. There was no way he was leaving his injured Padawan on this damp stone floor any longer than he needed to.
He scooped Obi Wan into his arms. His skin was hot to the touch. He had a fever. They needed to get out of this complex quickly.
His Padawan instinctively curved into his body, mumbling incoherently.Â
He walked back into the cave system. Without his lightsaber, he had to squint to see anything. He moved forward, trusting that the force would lead them to safety.
Obi Wan groaned, shifting slightly. His head nodded down to his chest.Â
âAwake Padawan. I need you to stay awake!
âMmâŠawakeâ Obi Wan mumbled âCan we go back to the temple Master. Iâm tiredâ
Qui-Gonâs boots hit the metallic floor of the complex. He breathed a sigh of relief as the orange glow of the emergency lights began to illuminate the room.Â
He looked down at Obi Wan. The non bruised parts of his skin were deathly pale.Â
âWeâll be back soon Padawan. Youâll be all right. Weâll be back soon.â
Qui-Gon Jinn desperately hoped that the last thing he said to his Padawan would not be a lie.
#whumptober2021#no.3#who did this to you#star wars#fic#obi wan kenobi#qui gon jinn#whump#look i write
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Antiâs First Fireball
SD-004 looked around the enclosure he was ushered into with curious eyes. It felt⊠strangely nostalgic. Like heâd been here before. But, that wasnât possible. The white suits scientists had told him he was a fresh creation, just now being put into testing enclosures. And yet⊠the sea dragon felt a heaviness in his chest he didnât understand, being in here. He swears when he closed his eyes⊠instead of these prison like walls⊠he saw bright blue open waters- the sun shining in large rays down on the sand. Colorful swarms of fish and⊠laughter- laughter and smiles that made SD-004 feel warm inside. But, whenever he thought like that- a piercing pain would spear through his temple. It made it hard to think. Heâd been having way too many thoughts like that latelyâŠÂ
Even then- this enclosure was familiar in a bad way. Thinking about it⊠he felt a sense of dread and slight fear being put in here. The walls were stark white, almost painful to look at. There was only one window to look through, unlike the tank where he was most days where he was surrounded by glass. The sea dragon anxiously picks at his scales on his arms, wondering why he was brought here. The scientists had been saying he was doing good⊠better than he had been. The disks lodged on the edge of his ears itched and stung- but they had seemed happy that they were âworking properlyâ. Whatever that meantâŠÂ
Antiâs muscles bunched up in reaction to the mic in the tank sparking up. Someone was here. He turned back to look at the window to see a scientist smiling tightly at him. Chief Demerci⊠She was the head scientist in charge of him. He didnât like her at all⊠not that there was anything he could do about it.Â
âHello SD-004,â Demerci greeted, âHow are you feeling today?âÂ
The sea dragonâs fins bristled in agitation just listening to her speak. A fire that was dormant until she came back in lit up. The adolescent sea dragon bared his fangs and snarled at the scientist.Â
âDonât waste my time acting like you care. Why am I here?âÂ
The scientist doesnât look surprised by his hostility- but she does look disappointed. She tsks, then reaches for a button on her control panel. A shock runs from Antiâs ear attachments and down his spine, making him go rigid and cry out.Â
âAnti,â Demerci sighed. The simple mention of that name had him seizing up more as if expecting something else- âSay Goodbye.âÂ
The phrase has Antiâs eyes drooping- his expression going slack and body held at attention. The scientist looked bored as she addressed the tranced hybrid.Â
âPunishment will come when you choose to be aggressive to your superiors, SD-004. You are to address them with respect.âÂ
Anti hardly blinks as he replies, âYes, Chief Demerci.âÂ
âStatus report,â Demerci says shortly. The hybrid shifts slightly as a yellow glow comes to his eyes. He talks a bit more robotically, his voice slightly raked with static.Â
âVitals normal. Anxiety levels at a medium. Mild headaches o-o-occurring from memory deletion. Command chip integration at 56%.âÂ
Demerci makes a tch sound and leans back in her chair. âThat would explain the attitude. Weâll have to work on that conditioning after this experiment.â She takes down a couple of notes before addressing the static hybrid again, âAlright, Anti, see you soon.âÂ
Light comes back into the hybridâs eyes quickly and he blinks sluggishly back awake, his body relaxing. Demerci studies him smugly.Â
âSo Anti, how are you feeling?âÂ
Anti goes stiff again for a second and yellow flashes in his eyes before he deflates and looks away from the scientist, picking at his scales again.Â
âF-Fine I guessâŠâÂ
Demerci frowns but nods regardless. They can work on that more later.Â
The scientist sighed heavily before a small sadistic smile spread across her face. She leaned over her mic and grinned at the tiny sea dragon like a lioness stalking her kill.
âWell Iâm happy to hear that SD,â she cooed with false sweetness, âBecause youâll need to be in ship shape to take on todayâs test.âÂ
Antiâs head jerked up, color draining out of his face. âW-What?â He whispered in fear, backing away from the glass to try to curl up against the wall. He knew what that meant- it usually meant pain⊠lots and lots of pain.
DeMerci showed no sign of remorse as she smiled cruelly and went to press a finger against another large button on the dashboard in front of her.Â
Something creaked loudly from the walls before a large creature emerged. But⊠it wasnât just any creature.
It was another hybrid.Â
Looming over Anti was a reaper leviathan hybrid with dark skin, covered in red markings and blue scales. It had long flowing red hair. 4 soulless black eyes with gray sclera glared down at the young hybrid as it gnashed its razor sharp teeth. Itâs mandibles spring out and aim at the merman.Â
Anti stared at this thing in increasing horror. His mind was screaming at him- something about this wasn't right- this was all wrong!!Â
Jackie Jackie! Where was Jackie?!
The creature didnât care for its preyâs fear. It roared so loud it rocked the tank they were in before diving down at Anti like a torpedo.Â
Luckily, Anti was quick and he easily dodged. His body seemed to know how to fight this thing- knew of its weaknesses. He watched it prepare to loop around him- trying to attack his back. But. Anti kept in its path, blocking its attempts to maneuver around him.Â
âNo fair Anti! Thatâs my big move!â A young voice whined in his ear
The hybrid gets frustrated at not making headway and roars before trying to tackle Anti to the ground with its long claws. Anti dives to the sand though- watching with a smirk as the thing barrels into the tank wall and disorients itself above him.
Demerci watches with a fascinated smile. âYour instincts are benefiting you greatly SD- you are the reaperâs natural predator.â But, then she sighs dramatically while picking up a remote off her desk. âHowever- I specifically stated you were going to use firepower today-âÂ
Without another word- she presses a button. Anti feels his body spark up painfully and he screams and convulses on the floor. The shocking lasts for a couple more torturous seconds before Demerci relents. Anti slumps for the floor and breathes through gritted teeth- trying to push himself back up as the creature prowls back and forth in front of him.Â
âUse your fire breath, Anti,â Demerci hisses at the boy. âOr youâll never be able to protect SE-002⊠and you donât want that, right?âÂ
Anti freezes slightly at that. His eyes spark with yellow orange light and he twitches, claws digging into the sand.Â
âNoâŠâ he whispers, eyes widening and looking distant. âI will protect SE-002⊠Thatâs all I was made for.âÂ
Demerci smirks, happy to see the brainwashing slowly but surely leaking in. âThen, that hybrid is trying to hurt SE, Anti. Donât let it succeed. Burn it-âÂ
With a wild scream, Anti launches himself from the sand and barrels into the reaper hybrid. They roar at each other, but Anti manages to bang the creatureâs head against a rock and drive it to the ground. The thing wiggles and screeches at Anti, trying to get free.Â
Anti pants almost feverishly, eyes glitching between yellowish and normal. He digs his claws into the creature's arms and pins it hard against the sand so itâs mandibles canât bend. Then, he opens up his mouth and tries to summon a fireball.Â
It- it doesnât feel right. His stomach bubbles uncomfortably hot and the feeling travels up through his throat. He gags slightly on the burning feeling- hot bubbles blowing in the hybridâs face. The hybrid shrinks away slightly, seeming to fear whatâs coming for it.Â
But it doesnât come. Anti letâs go of the hybrid to grab his throat, starting to choke on the hot foreign feeling. His scar- itâs irritated and starting to leak hot water which furthers his panic. Worse of all, as the fire starts to escape the young sea dragon is suddenly bombarded by flashes of things he doesnât understand.Â
Heâs bent over in the sand while two other hybrids lean over him. They both look at him with concern- a concern that feels genuine and⊠brotherly.Â
Chase? Schneep?
Anti feels a painful pang in his chest as he coughs up hot burning liquid. Nowhere near close to a fireball. He feels hot water coming from his eyes and he reaches up to touch it, startled and confused.Â
Then, he curls up gagging and sobbing from the confusing sensations in his head and body. He starts to cry out names he doesnât know why he knows, but for once- it feels right.Â
âC-Chase! H-Henny! Jack!! Help me!!âÂ
The last thing Anti sees is Demerciâs enraged face before a powerful shock overtakes his body- then everything goes black.Â
When the sea dragon next opens up his eyes⊠he doesnât recognize where he is. The lighting is eerie and dark- the walls gray and beat up. Anti tires to move only to realize he canât- his arms and tails are chained up to the walls. He starts to panic- pulling on the chains and trying to catch his claws on them.Â
âW-What is this?!â He growls, but his eyes give away his terror, âLet me go! Let me out!âÂ
âNow Now, AntiâŠâ Demerciâs silky voice purrs over the intercom, but Anti canât see her. âYouâre here so we can help youâŠâ The restraints start to tighten on his wrists, pulling his arms taut. Anti starts to pant feverishly in fear. âI told you today was the day you would shoot fireballs⊠so weâre gonna give you a little⊠âstimulationâ until you fulfill your full potential.âÂ
âW-What?! Y-Youâre crazy! You canât do that-!â Anti tries to scream and thrashes as hard as he can. But, then the shocks start to come. Sharp and painful through his restraints- lighting every one of his nerves on fire. The sea dragon hybrid screams bloody murder, trying and failing to break free.Â
Demerci watches mercilessly, humming under her breath as she casually cranks up the power. Anti canât form a single coherent thought- all he knows is awful aching pain. He feels like heâs been stripped down to his very essence. The torture seems never-ending⊠even during brief pauses, Anti canât even catch his breath to think. Heâs assaulted by echoing commands and threats. They echo throughout the too warm water around him and buzz in his ears. You are a monster. Zap! You were made to be a weapon.Â
Zap!Â
You will protect SE-002. You will protect the Altera Arms.Â
ZAp!
You are a ruthless killer.Â
You know no mercy. You listen only to us- Zap Zap ZAP! Let your instincts rule you SD-004.Â
Become the fearsome Sea Dragon you were made to be. Serve Altera. As more and more electricity enters his veins, a bubbling flame builds up in his mouth. Bigger and bigger- brighter orange that bubbles like lava. Until finally- Anti shoots his first fireball. And after a few more rounds of shocks in between, he shoots a couple more. No hesitation, automatically as heâs told. Demerci smiles. Their weapon is finally complete. SD-004 paces the length of his tank, back and forth swiftly as he watches the hatch in front of him with hungry yellow-tinted eyes. Finally, the alarm sounds and the hatch opens. The sea dragon hybrid grins and giggles madly in his throat as his opponent barrels through the water towards him. The imperfect warper hybrid tries to pin him down with long blue-tinted claws. SD easily dodges then headbutts them in the stomach, making them fly through the water. He doesnât give them any room to breathe though as he catches them through their arc then slams them against the rock below them. Laughing madly, Anti sinks claws deep into their arms then drags them down, watching in satisfaction as the ugly thing screams robotically. These ones werenât nearly as fun as the pure organic ones⊠but prey was prey. The merman tears into the other hybrid- showing no mercy as he cuts it to ribbons. Deaf to their screams. Ignorant to who they used to remind him of. All that matters is the thrill- the need to hunt. The need to hurt. He was a monster. He was a weapon! The water flows with orange hybrid blood before SD-004 finally backs up- and sends a fireball right on top of the creature. Putting it out of its misery. He giggled and licked the blood off his hand. He looked up to see Demerci smiling down at him, nodding her approval. âExcellent work, SD-004,â She praised, writing something down on her PDA before pressing a button on her dashboard. âReady for the next round?â SD nodded with a crazed laugh, shaking out his tails and arms, watching the hatch yet again. âLay it on me Doc~!â --------- Anti awoke with a start, clutching at his chest. His heart was beating too wildly, his skin feeling clammy and hot in the cool water of their cove. That⊠that was definitely a memory⊠A memory he desperately wanted to forget. He could still feel the sting of the shocks- the elation of ripping into his prey. He didnât even care back then that those hybrids were like him and his brothers. He only knew following instincts⊠following orders. âAnti?â A soft voice reaches his ears and the sea dragon jumps. Then, he sees Marvin swimming over to him, green hair loose and floating around his head like a halo. His mask hung loose in his hands. He tilted his head at the older brother in concern. âYou okay?â Anti finds it hard to find his voice. â...n...nightmare-â He finally croaks out, feeling a shiver go up his spine and down his tails. Marvin hums then settles in the sand next to Anti, tucking his tails under him. He offers the sea dragon a sad smile. âDo you want to talk about it?â The older boy is quick to shake his head. Marvin knits his eyebrows together in concern, âAnti⊠you can talk to me. I mean⊠if anyone knows what you went through its-â âShut up!â Anti suddenly shouts, hitting a fist against the sand. His eyes burn as he glares at Marvin and bares his teeth. âYou have no idea what I went through! The shit you went through is nothing compared to me! So stop acting like you get it! You donât! Now leave me the fuck alone!â The warperâs face falls, his gleaming blue eyes showing his heartbreak. Then, pink flashes in his eyes as he growls back, smacking Anti slightly with his tails in his haste to get up. âFine! Fuck me for wanting to help your sorry ass!â Marvin cries, trying to look angry, but glints of his tears leak into the moonlit water. Without another glance or word, Marvin turns tail and rockets off into the midnight ocean. Anti holds himself after he leaves, hating the feeling of timid eyes on his back. He canât tell Marvin- he canât tell anyone about what he saw⊠what he knows⊠what he did. Theyâll hate him- hate him more than they already hate him. He can handle this⊠theyâre just memories. They canât hurt him anymoreâŠ
#septnautical side story#antisepticeye#sea dragon anti#jezebeth demerci#abuse#experimentation#electrocution#brainwashing#torture#past memories#whump#sorry i know i need to get more refugee stuff done but this just came to me!#it was also inspired by an ask a while ago! :D#huffle tales
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VNC 50 IM GOING TO DIIIIIIIEEEEEEE
IM CRYING,,
Okay, so my thing with this chapter is...I think the reason why it hurts so much is because Noe and Vanitas are both victims here. I donât think either of them is really at fault for the way things shook out, theyâre both just struggling for survival and acting on instinct.
Even before we delve into character motivations and the effects of their respective trauma, one thing is made clear: when it comes to Noe, regardless of what he claims, Vanitas does care. Misha explicitly says so: âOh, youâre worried?â You can tell Vanitas is concerned when he first sees Noe lying on the ground, when he demands to know what happened to him. And then, when Misha so casually reveals how Noe watched Louis turn into a curse-bearer and get slaughtered? Vanitas looks so pained by the knowledge of it, that Noe suffered such a heavy loss--and one he seems terribly familiar with. After all, he couldnât save his own brother.Â
But despite his sympathy, Vanitas deflects, tries to throw his relationship with Noe away. Even worse, he claims that itâs in Noeâs best interest to sacrifice Domi as well. What really pushes Noe over the edge here is Vanitas straight up offering to kill her for him, that crosses an entirely new line, and itâs something Noe just canât bear to hear. So itâs understandable that he lashes out. Driven by his singleminded desire to save Domi at all costs, his conviction only sharpened by his newfound resentment for Vanitas.
Noe tried to bargain, tried to talk Vanitas into divulging his memories voluntarily. He outright didnât want to hurt him, and painstakingly tried to avoid it. Which makes it all the more gutting when Vanitas forces his hand. You can tell heâs really heartbroken when Vanitas repeatedly dismisses their relationship, tries to convince him that all theyâve been through was for nothing. Noe has these lovely little flashbacks of their time together, and it just hurts to know how much Vanitas really meant to him.Â
And it seemed pretty clear to me that, as hurtful as Vanitasâ words were, he was trying to talk Noe into walking away. To avoid any confrontation with him. Repeatedly telling him that this isnât his fight, to just stay out of it, to forget about Domi. Itâs not so different from Noe begging Vanitas to explain his past. Noe should run away, so Vanitas doesnât have to fight him. Vanitas should admit everything right here and now, so Noe doesnât have to bite him. They each try to protect each other from the inevitable in their own desperate way, pushed to the brink under cruel circumstances.Â
And while Vanitas is a pretty good actor, there are definitely moments when that mask slips. Vanitas looks especially scared for Noe when he sees his friend on hands and knees, outright begging him to meet him halfway. It really drives home for Vanitas just how desperate Noe is, how terrified and hopeless, entirely out of options.
But of course, neither is able to concede. For Vanitas, losing his memories is a violation of free will, as unbearable to him as Noe losing someone heâs always loved, someone heâs always tried to protect. Hell, Vanitas is so closely guarded about his memories, so caught up in protecting whatever fragment remains of his own sense of self and identity, he still hasnât told anyone his real name. Compromise just isnât an option for either of them.Â
I was given the impression Vanitas was trying to bait Noe this whole time, that he was just goading him on and had no real intention of actually attacking--until Noe goes in for the bite. Vanitasâ entire demeanor changes then, in that one single moment. And the overriding emotion that drives him into action isnât anger or vengeance. Itâs fear. In those panels, Noe looks more monstrous than human, and Vanitas is absolutely petrified in horror. You just canât help but feel for him, just like you do for Noe. Itâs a betrayal on some unspeakable level for Vanitas. Just as Noe is tortured by memories of Louis and Domi, you can see Vanitas viscerally reliving his trauma here.Â
Worth noting: when Vanitas pulls out the syringe, he sounds as if he isnât quite himself, like heâs repeating someone elseâs words, a mantra to keep himself grounded when everything goes to hell. âIf anyone tries to take my memories...no matter who they are...kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Without fail.â Thereâs no statement here indicating heâs really the one making this call, itâs not âIâll kill them,â or âI have to kill them.â Just âKill themâ makes it sound like an order, like heâs following someone elseâs instructions. Is it the oath a vampire made him swear, something akin to Ruthvenâs command to Noe?
Or is this something the chasseurs drilled into him? After all, as soon as he goes on the offensive, he instantly reverts to his former training. Heâs acting on autopilot here, all his survival instincts from the church kicking in. Not only does he administer the same drug carried by chasseurs, he also immediately shot Noe in the eye. As Luna noted in the previous chapter, going right for the eyes is a distinctly chasseur move. And his last thought isnât âKill Noe,â itâs âKill that vampire.â Again, this sounds very reminiscent of Vanitasâ mindset in the previous chapterâs flashback, when he was well and truly under the influence of the Chaucerâs indoctrination and entirely bought into his mission to âkill all vampiresâ in blind vengeance.Â
Also interesting, the phrasing âno matter what,â and âwithout failâ is used in Vanitasâ fascinating speech about his grand ambitions to rescue every vampire from their curse. âIâll do as I please, use the methods I chose. And no matter what you people want, I will save you, without fail.â âNo matter who they are...kill them. Kill them. Without fail.â Again, it sounds like the kind of phrase that someone else instilled in him. The kind of thing he could have internalized for years.Â
Something else that really gets to me about this whole encounter is how Misha absolutely revels in his orchestration of it. At the beginning of the chapter, he claims he wants to live a happy life together with Luna and Vanitas. And yet, by the end of 50, heâs all too thrilled to see Noe and Vanitas at each otherâs throats, gleefully cheering them on in hopes theyâll outright destroy each other. âCome on, come on, you can do it! Donât lose either of you!â â...and try to kill each other for dear life!â
If he wants to be a family with Vanitas again, what does he have to gain by watching Noe kill him? Since he believes he can resurrect Luna, would he just regard Vanitasâ death as a passing inconvenience? Misha wants Noe to drink Vanitasâ blood, but heâs fine if Noe doesnât live long enough to relay his memories? I have a feeling he doesnât really care about the outcome of this match, so much as he just wants Vanitas to suffer as some arbitrary penance for Lunaâs fate. Itâs all very strange, and none of it really adds up. But it makes me worried about who Mishaâs âfriendâ is.
Last thing, and itâs probably just me reading too much into it. But, when Vanitas shoots Noe, we get this interesting set of shots that just follows their steps--and missteps, Noe staggering back from him. This reminded me of something when I first saw it, and it took me a moment to remember, but...it brought to mind their dance in the masquerade. Theyâre even facing the same way. In the dance, theyâre falling easily into step, side by side. Which makes it all the more striking when they break apart in the recent chapter.
Again, it could be nothing. But I feel like thereâs some significance to the visual parallels, especially since Noe is the one who truly believed he was close with Vanitas, still circling in his orbit, a trusted partner and friend. He thinks theyâre on the same page, and when he realizes maybe Vanitas didnât think of him like that--saw him as a stranger, someone expendable--Noeâs illusion shatters. And he realizes this is a path they might never truly walk together. Vanitas isnât even visible at all in the last few panels, heâs entirely out of reach. And Noe is left alone.
#vanitas no carte#the case study of vanitas#vnc#vnc spoilers#one day ill be able to talk about the intricacies of vnc without writing a whole essay but today is not that day im so sorry
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Well, that chapter title, combined with this being the last chapter of volume two, really comes off as ominous!Â
Also, because thereâs no good break point that I can see in this chapter, Iâm just gonna do all of it. This is⊠gonna be rough, I think. Apologies for the long post in advance.
[No. 17 - Game Over]
We start out in the collapsed zone, which is basically a cityscape thatâs been partially destroyed / knocked down. Kirishima and Katsuki are both huffing and puffing as they take a moment to breathe after taking out all the villains who had attacked them in the room they were dumped into. Katsuki notes that that was all of them, then calls them a buncha mooks. Kirishima wipes at his face a bit as he says they need to hurry and help the others - if theyâre still in the USJ, after all, then everyone else must be as well! And heâs worried about those who donât really have ways to attack.
Kirishima goes on to determine that Thirteen probably has her hands full since they rushed ahead like that, and that none of this would have happened if theyâd let her suck in that mist man. So as men, they have to take responsibility.
Katsukiâs brusque reply is that if thatâs what Kirishima wants to do, then go on alone - heâs going to go beat the warp gate villain to a pulp. Kirishima is surprised by this declaration, wondering out loud what Katsukiâs still pulling that âimmature crapâ at a time like this, plus reminding Katsuki that normal attacks donât work on the warp villain anyways.Â
Katsuki snaps at him to shut up, and then points out that Kurogiri is how the other villains are getting around - if they bring him down, the others will have nowhere to run. And besides, itâs not like he doesnât have a way to beat said warp villain.
While the two were talking about the stuff above, a camouflaged villain sneaks up from behind Katsuki on the ceiling. Considering the fact that a random mook villain with an âinvisibilityâ quirk was able to get an outfit that went invisible/camouflage with them, I wholeheartedly refuse to believe Hagakure canât have a full costume thatâs as invisible as she is what with UAâs resources. If she says sheâs mostly naked, sheâs just trolling people for shits and giggles.Â
Anywho, the villain lunges, knife in hand as they become visible, thinking about how the kids should keep talking and let their guard down. Kirishima, however, does notice the attack, but-
Katsuki moves before he can even say anything, blasting the villain unconscious without stopping his explanation to Kirishima. He notes calmly that if all the enemy is sending against them are low-danger idiots, then they should be fine. Kirishima quietly admires Katsukiâs reflexes, while commenting out loud how calm Katsuki is all of a sudden, with an aside showing him noting that Katsukiâs like âdie!â; portrayed with this is Katsukiâs same âevil faceâ as Izuku pictured when he was worried about Katsuki being in the same class.Â
Katsuki snaps that heâs always calm âyou damn broomheadâ, with Kirishima chuckling as he snaps his finger and says âthere it is.â Katsuki then clenches his gauntleted fist as he states that heâs out of there. Kirishima knocks his hardened fists together as he tells Katsuki to hold up, and that he (Katsuki) has to his pals, and to be a man. He then states that Katsukiâs convinced him. (Probably about the benefits of going after the warp villain again.)
Next, we shift back over to the entrance, with the door closed. Tenya is still making his mad dash for it, swearing through grit teeth as he tries to outrun Kurogiri. Kurogiri seems to be getting rather peeved himself based on the shape of his dialogue boxes getting more ragged; he calls Tenya impertinent, and states again that he wonât allow him to leave.Â
Ochako dashes forward, a determined expression on her face, with Sero and Ashido watching her. Ashido is crouched over Thirteen, checking on her, but asks what Ochako is going to do. Ochako points out a bit of the metal brace just visible in the smoke to them, which they quickly spot as well.Â
Tenya is getting close to the doors at this point, and remembers that theyâre automatic doors, before wondering if he can kick them down, or if theyâre too thick for that. We get a fun panel of his face as he seems prepared to just try and ram it anyways, shouting a battlecry - only to cut off as Kurogiri again looms before him, declaring that the kid has underestimated him.Â
Also, the man fucking calls Tenya âfour-eyesâ. I cannot. The disrespect.
Anyways, Kurogiri tells Tenya to vanish, but Tenya manages to somehow duck underneath as Kurogiri moves upwards, much to the surprise of both of them. Why, you ask?
Ochako being a fucking badass is why. She has latched onto Kurogiriâs brace, noting that sheâs not sure why, but if heâs wearing that brace, then he has to have a real body in there. She strains herself, but she manages to use her own strength and her quirk in order to toss him up, up, and away from Tenya, all while telling her friend to go.Â
Kurogiri continues to woosh away from the ground as he realizes she got his body - then is alarmed again when a piece of tape manages to stick to his back. Sero tugs Kurogiri around on the end of his tape, also telling Tenya to get going. Tenya manages to get the door open enough to squeeze through while Kurogiri is distracted, dashing through the opening and towards the school while Sero detaches his tape and sends Kurogiri flying further with the momentum of the swing.Â
Kurogiri is silent for a moment before swirling into himself, noting that if the kid calls for help, then itâs game over. Honest to god, why do I never see this stuff in fics, I cannot believe Kurogiri is saying this kind of stuff. Either itâs odd translation stuff, or else it was just cut from the anime, and if itâs the latter, then I am mad disappointed.Â
(staring at next part) Yeah no, I think Iâll be pretty careful with my choice of image use. If this were a fic, this is where the âgraphic depictions of violenceâ would come in, if not sooner in this arc.
We go back to Eraserhead, Shigaraki, and the Nomu, with the first panel being a relative closeup of the Nomu crushing Eraserheadâs right arm. Like, thatâs not hyperbole, you can see the arm being scrunched and the blood pouring from the arm, jesus fucking christ. And Eraserhead not making a peep for it? Talk about pain tolerance. I know this is a shounen and all that, but just. The arm is being CRUSHED. Lesser mortals would pass out at this point.Â
Shigaraki wobbles back to his feet, noting that cancelling out quirks is pretty cool, but nothing special - up against crazy strength, he might as well be quirkless. Eraserhead manages to latch his eyes on the nomuâs left hand at it reaches for his left arm, but that doesnât prevent the nomu from snapping said arm like a twig. Eraserhead canât prevent himself from a pained shout.Â
Eraserhead grits through the pain at he notes that looking at any part of the nomuâs body should have nullified it, which meant that was the nomuâs base strength - easily as strong as All Might. The nomu lifts Eraserheadâs head up while heâs thinking this, then slams him face first into the ground, hard enough to leave an impact crater. And, notably, Eraserhead is still alive and conscious. Jesus. Fucking. CHRIST.
Meanwhile, Izuku, Tsuyu, and Mineta look on, developing major trauma as they watch their teacher basically tortured for shits and giggles. Mineta is trembling with hands covering his mouth and tears in his eyes, Tsuyuâs partially submerged her face into the water, and Izuku is just. Frozen in absolute fear. Mineta realizes how bad this is, and practically begs for a change of plans from Izuku. Tsuyu ribbits in agreement, but Izuku just. Cannot think of a thing.
Kurogiri spirals into existence besides Shigaraki, giving Shigarakiâs full name for the first time in the manga. Shigaraki in turn greets Kurogiri, also the first time weâre seeing the name I think? Anyways, Shigaraki asks Kurogiri if Thirteen is dead. Kurogiri states that sheâs incapacitated, but that there were students he couldnât warp away, and that one of them escaped.Â
Shigaraki starts scratching at his neck with one hand, then both, his irritation ramping up as he mulls this over. We get another shot of an eye between the fingers of the face-hand as he states that heâd turn Kurogiri to dust if he wasnât their ticket out of there. They wonât stand a chance against dozens of pros, after all. He then states that itâs game over, and then corrects himself - itâs game over, for now.
He then tells Kurogiri theyâre leaving. Mineta is surprised by this quickly glancing over to Tsuyu and Izuku, asking if he heard that right. Tsuyu says he did. Mineta leaps on her in relief, stating that theyâre saved. Tsuyu starts to say âyeah, but-â only to cut herself off when Minetaâs hand ends up on her boob (could have been accident or not here).Â
She starts casually drowning Mineta as she continues her previous thought - sheâs got a bad feeling about this. Izuku agrees - to do all this, and then just leave on a whimâŠÂ
He continues to think over the discrepancy to himself as he watches the villains talk a bit more. The villains had wanted to kill All Might; UAâs just going to be in more danger than ever if they get away now. He then notes Shigarakiâs use of âgame overâ, and is worried over what theyâre thinking at that moment.Â
As if Shigaraki had heard his thoughts, he speaks up again. Before they leave, they should leave a few dead kids⊠and heâs motioning right for the three whoâd been watching up until then.Â
Since I canât really capture the moment of terror in words:
Just. Shigaraki moves so fast, the kids have no time to react to it. Tsuyuâs only just released Mineta from underwater. Izuku is just barely able to turn to see Shigaraki already in Tsuyuâs face, his mind empty but for the memory of what happened to Eraserheadâs elbow. And Tsuyuâs face is just. God, I cannot imagine how she must have felt, being so close to death like that.
Thereâs a moment of silence from Shigaraki as nothing happens. He then repeats his previous statement - you really are pretty cool, Eraserhead. As it turned out, he took advantage of the nomu living his head in order to activate his quirk, saving Tsuyuâs life. The Nomu proceeds to slam his head back down again, but I guess Aizawaâs managed to keep his eyes open, since it still doesnât activate even as Izuku goes in for an attack.Â
(Poor kid, his entire thought process as he goes in for that swing is just âno no no no no no no no no-â, like. You see this again later on when his close friends are in danger, how he just is basically so deeply tunnel visioned on just saving them.)
Izukuâs right arm buzzes with power as he thinks that Shigarakiâs nothing like the villains whoâd been in the water. He mentally urges Tsuyu to run and save herself while he shouts at Shigaraki to get off of her. Shigaraki just casually calls for the nomu.Â
His blow connects with something, the force fairly intense from the impact point. Izuku is confused as he registers that his armsâ not broken. Heâs shocked and a bit annoyed (I guess) that now is when he managed to regulate the power. He then wonders if he really did it, since he knows the smash connected, he knows he did it.
As the smoke clears, we see the nomu lurking over Izuku, totally unharmed by the attack. We get a thin panel showing the nomuâs dead eye, as Izuku looks up in worry. His thoughts are a frazzled mess, first realizing the speed, then a half-finished thought on when the nomu moved, and then the slowly dawning realization (and fear) that the attack didnât work.Â
He flashes back to Tsuyuâs comment on the yacht, that the villains must have figured out a way to kill All Might, otherwise why show up just to get beaten. Izuku is in disbelief, because itâs one thing to accept that as theory, but another to realize itâs absolutely true. Shigaraki notes that thatâs quite a move Izuku just pulled off⊠and with a âsmashâ too. He then asks if Izukuâs a fan of All Might. Izuku tries to pull away, but the nomu already has him by the arm as Shigaraki shrugs off his own question with a casual âwhateverâ.Â
God, just, the silence of this page and all the âin the momentâ snippets that show everything happening pretty much at once.Â
Tsuyu shoves Shigarakiâs hand away as she lashes out ith her tongue to try and grab Izuku. Aizawa is shown to be passed out on the ground. We see Shigaraki reaching back out to kill both Tsuyu and Mineta as the nomu holds Izuku in place, Tsuyuâs tongue still not even managing to reach Izuku yet.Â
The doors at the front of the USJ are literally blasted from the doorway like shots out of a cannon. The kids who were still up there by the door are all relieved as they look at their savior - All Might.Â
And thatâs the end of the chapter - and of volume two. Supplementary material to follow.Â
Man, just imagine being someone who only reads the manga when the volumes come out. Can you imagine being left on this cliffhanger for who knows how many months? Couldnât be me. And the cliffhangers are only gonna get worse from here on out!
#chapter 17#readthrough#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#USJ Arc#bakugou katsuki#Kirishima Eijirou#Iida Tenya#uraraka ochako#Sero Hanta#kurogiri#shigaraki tomura#nomu#aizawa shouta#midoriya izuku#asui tsuyu#Mineta Minoru#yagi toshinori#is this what people mean when they say 'everything happens so much all the time'?#because I really feel like it is#hori really needs to add 'graphic depictions of violence' as a warning tag
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The Rights Of A Nindroid
Chapter Thirteen- Variation One
(Prevoius chapter here)
(Discord Here)
This chapter was originally an RP with @ablackswansweet, and there are two versions- one from both characterâs POV. I have Swanâs permission to post this.
Zane warily eyes the young adult who enters alongside Martha. Does she intend to hurt him to force him to do something?
âWhat do you want?â He questions, hating the resignation in his tone.
He really has begun to give up.
The blond seems oddly excited, considering the circumstances. It looks as though heâs barely containing himself as he comes up to Zane.
He leans into the nindroidâs personal space, studying him closely in a way that once again makes him feel like a studied lab rat.
"I want to learn how you work." The blond smiles deviously. He then grabs Zaneâs face and moves it around to inspect it from different angles, and Zane tries to cover up his winces of pain as some of his exposed sensors are touched.
The blond takes a few notes in a notebook before returning to Marthaâs side, still with an evil expression.
Zane tries to hide his sigh of relief when the teen leaves. It had taken a lot of impulse control to stop himself from attempting to bite the blond- being manhandled in such a way is a very unpleasant feeling.
âHavenât you done that enough?â He protests, shifting in his bonds to the best of his ability. âWith everything youâve done to me, I doubt that any competent mechanic would need any more research.â
He glares at the two while he speaks, wishing he still had his faceplate- if only to better emphasize his look of displeasure.
The young man laughs a little, seemingly more to himself than to anyone around him. Yet once again, thereâs still an almost cruel aura around him that puts Zane on edge.
"Thing is, Original, I'm not exactly a mechanic. I'm just really, really interested by your wires and gears. And how well they respond to⊠Certains stimuli," he says.
The teen takes a few more notes before looking to Martha, seeming to wait for approval. She gives it with a nod.
Zane doesnât quite grasp what is happening until wires are hooked up to him, the blond still seeming to almost shake in his excitement.
He then steps in front of the control panel and looks back to Martha.
Zane feels a wave of unease take over him. Something about this situation is concerning him, and itâs more than the fact that they likely plan to hurt him.
They havenât given any orders. They havenât asked any questions. And yet it seems that they plan to hurt him anyway.
They claim that this is training, but at this particular moment, it seems as though this shaping up to be more torture than an attempt at teaching.
âTo begin with, my name is Zane, not Original. Second, if you are so interested in âwires and gearsâ perhaps a robotics course would be a more healthy outlet for you.â
Heâs well aware that his words will make no difference, but he attempts to convince the teen to leave him alone anyway.
After a few moments, he adds, âWhy are you doing this? I can assure you that I have never meant to cause harm on any innocents.â He glances over at Martha on the last words, noting her displeased expression.
âYou can begin whenever you like.â She tells the blond, who hums in response.
"Hey, Original?" He calls out, waiting until Zane looks at him to continue. "You talk a lot."
The young man then pushes a button, and Zane finds himself squirming in his bonds at the uncomfortable feeling. This is far from the worst they have done or can do, but it is still not a pleasant feeling.
He watches as the blond writes something else down, and starts to try and reason with the teen, trying to convince him to stop. He even uses proper manners, but it still seems to have no effect.
When his requests to stop are left ignored, Zane decides to take a new track.
âI suppose I am talking a lot,â he admits, âbut not nearly as much as an old friend of mine. Jay couldnât stay quiet if his life depended on it.â
While starting up a friendly conversation might seem illogical, Zane hopes that it will perhaps give him some insight on the one hurting him. Information about the blond may give him an opportunity to convince him to stop- and perhaps small talk will help him prove that he is seintent.
"Heh, yeah. I had a guy like that in one of my foster homes." The blond smirks, seemingly at the way Zane is surprised. "Didn't end well for him either. No one like a constant source of useless noise, don't you agree?"
Zane isnât quite sure why he finds him so humorous, but he chooses not to dwell on it, instead trying to find an appropriate response to the words.
"How is your old friend doing now?" The blond smirks as he turns up the voltage, staring Zane dead in the eyes.
Zane struggles to keep a hold of himself, gritting his teeth and trying to maintain the conversation.
And endless source of constant noise? That could be a way to describe it, but Zane has always been fond of Jayâs rambling.
âI havenât seen him in a while- Iâve been a littleâŠâ He glances down at his chains, wincing. â... tied up.â
At this point, itâs likely that the blond has a game of his own if heâs still choosing to continue the small talk- and the large smirk on his face confirms it.
He pauses a moment before continuing. âI donât think I caught your name, either. What do you go by?â
The blond wears a faux-surprised expression for a moment before answering. "My name's Kyle. He/him, I guess. But I don't think you're going to need to know that."
He returns to slowly upping the charge of the voltage, seeming to reveal in the uncomfortableness that heâs causing.
"Tell me about your other old friends.â Kyle still doesnât look away. âYou said you were dating, right ? How's it like ?" That menacing smile doesnât fade, and while Zane isnât quite sure where heâs going with this, surely playing along for the moment couldnât hurt.
He forces any sign of pain down, attempting to keep up a polite and friendly facade even as the pain increases.
âItâs nice to meet you, Kyle.â He lies. âI donât recall mentioning that I was in an active relationship, but I suppose that the background research you mustâve done would cover that.â
It is obvious that they know about his boyfriends- how else would they have known to show him what they did in the sensory manipulation?
The pain is still increasing, and itâs becoming harder and harder to pretend as though heâs not hurt.
His breathing has begun to grow heavy, and heâs sure that there are flickers of winces being shown, but he still does his best to maintain his friendly appearance.
"Yeah, I read your file before coming here. Big fan, by the way." Kyle still wears a cruel smile, but it starts to turn more menacing, an evil nature with more purpose. "Wonder how they feel about your self-sacrificing nature," he snarls.
But then he pauses, gritting his teeth. He seems to be trying to keep a hold on himself, but Zane isnât quite sure what could have triggered it.
Unless⊠is it possible that his self destruct could have harmed more the way it did Martha?
Zane doesnât have time to dwell on the thoughts, as heâs suddenly blasted with electricity, and heâs forced to bite back a cry of pain.
Thankfully, itâs only high for a few moments before Kyle lowers it, allowing Zane to regain his composure with a relieved sigh.
Kyle redirects the conversation again. "So, your old friends ?"
Zane decides to instead address the major concern of what may be a part of Kyleâs hostility.
âWhen I was fighting the Golden Master, I meant no harm to any innocent people. I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I⊠I understand that in some ways, I have failed this function, but I do my best to help those in need.â
Breathe in, breathe out. Keep calm. He canât let the pain overtake him- heâs begun to sense that thatâs what Kyle wants.
He debates saying more, but chooses to remain silent, waiting for a hopefully diplomatic response.
Kyle sighs and gives him a sharp glare that confirms Zaneâs hypothesis. It was likely that his sacrifice had-
Heâs cut off from his thoughts by a spike of electricity, and it takes quite a bit of willpower to prevent himself from shouting out at the pain.
Unfortunately, it appears that his pained reaction pleases Kyle, who is now smiling again.
"You didn't answer my question, Original. How was life with your⊠Boyfriends ? Kai Smith, Jay Walker and Cole Brookstone, yeah ?" He smiles as he emphasises the last names, a menacing threat behind his words.
Zane feels everything in his body go rigid, and with his concentration now centered on the others, he knows that he is having more acute reactions to the pain.
He hates the small whimper that escapes him, but he ignores it in favor of speaking, addressing the underlying threat of his words.
âYou do not touch them.â He snarls. âIf you hurt them, I swear on the First Spinjitzu Master that I will hunt you down to the ends of the-â Zane finds himself cut off with a cry of pain as the voltage is jammed up.
"Calm down. I didn't even actually threaten them yet," The blond mutters to himself. Thankfully, itâs not long before he lowers the voltage, and when he does Zane is able to breathe again.
But his panic is still running high. He had all but directly said that-
"If I wanted to truly use them as hostages, I'd tell you I know which shop they go to every two weeks to buy supplies and food, which is the one at the end of the main avenue."
The voltage begins to increase, and Zane wants to be listening, but he can only just make out his words, in too much pain to think straight.
"I'd tell you we have live feed of them almost every day and everywhere they go."
Zane hates the loud screams escaping him, but he canât even focus on them, all of his attention forcefully grabbed by the pain and the threats, the way he threatens the ones he loves-
"Or⊠I'd tell you how one of them already got arrested once, and how easy it is to transfer prisoners or fake an accident."
Zane can feel the way his body is reaching the maximum limits of what it can handle, he canât handle much more of this, this will kill him, he canât possibly-
When the power is shut off, Zane finds himself sobbing, thankful that itâs gone, the pain is gone, but he still has fear running through him, fear of what could possibly happen to the ones he loves.
Kyle walks up to him, and Zane hates the fact that he flinches, and he hates even more the smile the teen wears when he does.
"Don't you dare threaten me or her ever again. Remember who holds the power here," the blond mutters in his ear before going back over to Martha, checking his notebook.
Zane doesnât have it in him to be ashamed of how much he had screamed when the voltage was on maximum power- or at least, what had felt like it.
He wants to retort, to tell the boy that will protect his boyfriends to the death, to tell him that he is more than a machine, to tell him that he will threaten him again if he has to.
But he canât find the words. Heâs too tired to come up with proper sentences.
The part of him that spends too much time with Kai urges him to tell the teen a string of insulting curse words, but Zane ignores it.
When the two leave the room, Zane doesnât even bother saying a farewell.
Whatâs the point in it, anyway?
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BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A
Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all âfuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.â Endeavor was all âhello, I am Somebody In Charge.â Kacchan was all âlisten up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and thatâs a fast track to disaster right there.â Endeavor was all, â[self-incriminating silence].â Rat Principal was all, âokay sure, have fun kids.â Back in the present, class 1-A was all âhi Dekuâ and Deku was all âIâM FINE!!!!!â and Kacchan was all âTHATâS WHAT I THOUGHT YOUâD SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERDâ and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE theyâre gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah itâs happening.
Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all âwhatâs up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.â Deku is all âtheyâre coming along like THISâ and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all âPHASE ONE COMMENCEâ, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someoneâs ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how itâs done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all âfuck this maskâ and do a bunch of stuff to tear Dekuâs mask off because theyâre the real heroes. Shouto is all âLOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THATâS RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,â and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all âlook at me. Iâm the cliffhanger now,â and damn.
lol what
I donât think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that Iâve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways itâs a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyuâs gonna do something badass
also, âDeku vs Class Aâ -- pretty much the expected title, but itâs still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah letâs go
IIDA ANGST
Iida Tenya really said âfuck the uniform code, weâre leaving the helmet at home today.â sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida
meanwhile Kacchan is all âsup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachuâ
âyou look like a tarred and feathered squidâ okay easy there Kacchan. I mean itâs all true of course, but still
âthank you all for comingâ OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LETâS JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT
yep and thereâs Smokescreen, right on cue
okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol
LOL THIS ISNâT A COMBO AT ALL
âexplosions solve everythingâ -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then
oh, ouch
he would know, wouldnât he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan
by the way you guys, just as an experiment, Iâm going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so hereâs our first test run!
ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: âoh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guyâ
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: itâs precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that heâs able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he canât accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesnât mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what youâre basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, Iâd have to disagree
and one last unrelated note, Iâm willing to bet the whole âyou didnât even say a word before you ran offâ thing is possibly the first thing Kacchanâs said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. IâM TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate itâll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez
anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol
OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??
FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent
so far the strategy here seems to be âKacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindnessâ, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesnât usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient
mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, whoâs up next!
FUCK YEAH
okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Seroâs face in these last couple of chapters though, itâs really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchanâs whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?
in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,
ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: âSERO IS TOGA??!â
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no
oh snap looks like Jirouâs getting in on the action too!
poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didnât get a flashback lol
omg. well that answers that
so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though theyâve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so theyâll probably be next, and then weâll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then weâll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own
BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR
and by âsponsorâ I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasnât clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible
(ETA: okay so this whole âtake me awayâ line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough itâs yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the readerâs interpretation. so even though the translation says âtake me awayâ, Iâm pretty sure that what Dekuâs actually saying is âtake you awayâ -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.
and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is âć„Șăâ (ubau), meaning âto snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.â which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not âAFO will kill youâ, but âAFO will take you away from me.â he canât have nice things anymore because of AFO. he canât be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he canât have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)
by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because itâs like twelve feet long in this panel lol
WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI
YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHEREâS YOUR FLASHBACK? YOUâVE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THATâS NOT FAIR
okay so now Satouâs stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward
dskfjfkk
âREMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOUâS FOOD COLORINGâ Horikoshi says, sweating. âAND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKUREâS GENERAL DIRECTIONâ
actually I am curious about what Hagakureâs part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol
(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)
whoa lol wtf
MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT
-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK
âSORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDAâS HELMETâ holy shit lmao
and here I thought sheâd get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices
poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg
âwhy am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting selfâ taking one for the team there DS
FUCK YEAHÂ KAMINARI NO JUTSU
THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! donât suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami
okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces
um excuse me this is fucking awesome
wonder how heâll break free? donât think heâll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk
TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY
WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE
and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Dekuâs just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji
KAMINARI OMFG
it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice
aaaaaaand Dekuâs yeeting himself
do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude
oh shit the mask!!
-- oh shit the feels
o(TăTo)
fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...
and the acknowledgement that he knows theyâre worried about him, but that it doesnât change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because theyâre up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they donât match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically donât stand a chance
(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and thereâs literal proof right there.
incidentally, as @class1akidsâ pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasnât fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but IâM JUST SAYING lol.)
anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!
âOR ELSEâ lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal
p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: âwhy is Shouto being so cruel to Deku canât he see how hard this is on himâ
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic âeven heroes cry when they have toâ Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchanâs lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isnât getting through to him (if anything itâs only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically itâs his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked
ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last
okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadnât been like 150 chapters ago
but anyway though itâs still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, Iâm glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didnât give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once
and that âheaded toward the climaxâ part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama
and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didnât notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED
#bnha 320#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#asui tsuyu#tokoyami fumikage#kaminari denki#todoroki shouto#class 1-a#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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Normal Pt 3
Description: For more skilled maneuvers, dragon shifters need a rider to help them out. After rejecting multiple riders, Hyunjin, a traumatized and handicapped shifter, is assigned to you. To add a cherry on top, youâre deaf, so how are you supposed to cast spells to free him from his limitation, let alone the anger in his heart?Â
Warning: violence
Word Count:Â 2.8k
Pairing: fem!reader x dragon!Hyunjin
Pt: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5
He looks nervous, and you can tell by the way heâs munching his lip rather than the appai berries.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â you ask, taking a seat besides him in the waiting room.
He shakes his head and shifts a seat over.
âWill there be a lot of people watching?â He carries around his own notepad now.
You smile lopsidedly, having gotten the sense of his insecurities about his abnormality already. âCome on, letâs show them youâre twice the dragon theyâll ever be with just half the tail!â
He wonders where you get your confidence from especially after you draw an ice dragon as your opponent in the arctic arena no less. When he walks out onto the battlegrounds, he sees Hye Ji in the audience cheering and giving him thumbs ups. In front of him, his opponent yawns cockily on the ice.
All the noise and bright lights are starting to make him dizzy. A knot that he canât swallow down forms in his throat. Just then, he feels a nudge on his shoulder. Itâs you, and youâre mouthing the words âTwilight Terror.â
Thatâs right. Tail or no tail, heâs part of a legendary breed of dragons known for their superior beauty and even greater strength. He returns a weak nod to which you shake your head and point frantically to his necklace.
His necklace?
The start gun fires right at that moment, and the opponent wastes no time blasting a beam of ice in your direction, separating the two of you as you jump apart to avoid the attack.
Hyunjin rolls out of the attack, gasping the transformation spell. He can hear some murmuring from classmates who have never seen his injury before and starts to get nervous again. Itâs similar, he thinks, to his riderâs jeers he heard when he felt the first searing pain shoot through his left fin.Â
Another sound cuts through all the other ones: a crack. Multiple cracks, in fact. He looks down to see the ice beneath his feet breaking apart from his massive weight. He looks to you and lets out a howl to which your necklace glows white in response, ready for him to take flight.
With his front paws, Hyunjin picks you up right as the ice dragon unflurles another one of his attacks. A summersault later, you are on Hyunjinâs back, ready to fight back.Â
If thereâs one thing Twilight Terrors do not do, itâs disappoint. Hyunjin blinds the other dragons with a wave of flames before picking it up and slamming it against the ceiling. You help him dive backwards back down just as another ice beam finds itself heading your way. A fireball is sent to counter the icy spikes the opponent sends right after. Hyunjinâs attack nicks the other dragon on the wing, immobilizing it for at least a few minutes. The glass panels protecting the audience vibrates as Hyunjin pushes off of it for his next attack. The ice dragon sends a spiral of ice shards to slow him down. You can tell the spiral is just like the last obstacle of the intermediate course, so you send the same pattern of magic down his body. Hyunjin grunts in understanding, and narrows his eyes in preparation.
He blinks the memory away. Not now. Not now! He isnât sure who said it this time, but he sure remembers who said it six years ago. He must have flinched because he feels you pushing his ears down to block out the sounds, but the damage has already been done.
âLook at his tail!â
âLook at his tail! My boy, youâll sell for millions.â
You pass through the first of the shards without a hitch and brace yourself for the next one.
âYou donât know how much Twilight Terror parts sell for, do you, you poor, naive thing? Maybe youâll think twice before swearing your loyalty to someone. Oh wait! No one will want you after Iâm done anyway. Youâll always belong to me.â
You can feel Hyunjin freezing up under you, rejecting your control, and there is nothing you can do. A shard impales his wings which freaks him out even more. Hyunjin tosses you off his back and collides into the glass on the opposite side.
The ice dragon, having recovered from Hyunjinâs burn, is quick to catch your falling form out of the air. You kick and stab with your dagger, but what is a human against a dragon?Â
With a crash, the snowy reptilian lands back on the ice. It grabs you with one paw and slams you pass the frozen water and into the liquid below.Â
Through the ice, you see Hyunjinâs distorted shape shaking his head to clear it of his memories and the uproar of the crowd. Your fingers burn from the cold and your head screams from the impact it took to break through the ice. Around your neck, the metallic necklace the proctors gave you earlier shines brightly. Just activate it with a spell and theyâll end the match and save you from this icy, airless torture.Â
You can feel your body going limp from the lack of oxygen. If you wait any longer, you might not have the ability to hum the spell.
Hyunjin. Fight it.
Fight it. As if by magic, the Terror snaps out of his trance. The sight of the arena fills his vision once more, replacing the visions of the dungeon from his memories. Hyunjin roars in panic when he spots your lifeless body held under the freezing water. He takes off in flight towards you, not caring about what the audience has to say at the random mishaps his tail causes without your control.Â
Five seconds till arrival, sixty until your body gives out. The opponent shoots an ice beam, knocking him off course. Ten seconds till arrival now, and fifty-seven till your demise. Hyunjin conjures the hottest flames he can manage and sends it on its way. To dodge, the opponent races further, dragging you along with it. Twenty and forty-nine. It isnât fast enough for Hyunjinâs flames, however, and lets out a roar of pain and collapses to its side. Taking this opportunity, Hyunjin burns it up. In agony, the ice dragon drops you to roll around to smother the flames. In vain, of course; a Twilight Terrorâs flames arenât so easy to extinguish. Nethertheless, your body is sinking into the freezing depths.
Thirty seconds until the opponent activates their necklace and forfeits. Thirty-one left on your lifeline. Thirty two until he reaches you with his broken tail.Â
âWe tap out!â
Hyunjinâs human voice rings loud and clear through the arena. Everyone in the audience was holding their breaths. Even the proctors hesitated, unsure if they heard him correctly, before springing into action.Â
He sees it clearly when they fish you out of the water, the trickle of blood from your head that runs down your uniform. It will stain there to remind him that heâs almost killed you. Again.
âHyunjin!â Normally, heâd turn around for that voice, but not this time. âHyunjin!â
The owner of the voice finally catches up to him and hands him a chocolate milk. âYou did really well!âÂ
âThanks, Hye Ji,â he sighs, not really putting thought into what heâs saying.
âYou almost won! You had that other guy totally in the bag!â she continues excitedly. âAnd how you flew so fantastically even with your injury? Inspiring.â
âBut I didnât.â
Hye Ji blinks a few times. âOf course you did! You--â
âI threw her off of me. I threw her to her death.â
âIâm sure she knows you didnât mean itâŠâ
âUnfortunately itâs not up to her what she thinks; itâs just what happened. Iâm unflyable.â
âHwang Hyunjin.â Hye Jiâs sudden deviation from her cheerleader-y voice throws Hyunjin off guard. She pulls on his sleeve with her head down, unused to disagreeing with her crush. âI-I donât know Miss L/N very well, but I know she wonât like it if she heard you saying that. I-if you must say it, I think sheâd prefer you to say it to her face. That way, she can argue back, you know?â
Hyunjin looks down at his milk. âYouâre right, Hye Ji. Thanks.â
The girl pokes her two fingers together. âJust doing what Miss L/N would since she canât do it herself right now.â
Hyunjin thanks her again and makes his way to the clinic, stopping by the snack stand along the way. In the clinic halls, he sees three boys loitering there.
âExcuse me,â Hyunjin says sternly.
âOh look who it is! The dragon of the dead deaf girl!â
âExcuse me,â Hyunjin repeats, louder.
âIs he even her dragon? Their pendants arenât even matching. Besides, itâs not like a dumb witch like her can ever make it far as a rider anyway.â
The three proceed to plug their ears with their fingers and chant in a high pitched voice, âI canât hear you! I canât hear you!â
Hyunjin squeezes the chocolate milk so hard, it bursts. With the same hand, he slams one of them against the wall by the neck. âYou take that back,â he growls.
âWhat are you going to do? Hit me with that broken tail of yours?âÂ
âBroken or otherwise, itâs a tail Y/N has spent weeks upon weeks trying to master, so you better take that back too.â His grip tightens. âUnless you want to outrun my fireballs.â
The boy tches and pushes Hyunjin off of him before walking away with his friends. With a shake of his head, Hyunjin rinses his hand off and heads for your room. Inside, he sees someone he wants to punch even more than those three hooligans.
âChan.â
The upperclassmanâs flicks his head to the side to look at Hyunjin with a sharp gaze. He is standing at the foot of the bed where you lay sleeping.
âHow many more times, Hyunjin? How many more?â he whispers harshly, walking up to the other male. âHow many more times do I have to see her like this because of you?â
âIâm sorry.â
âI know you hate riders, but did you have to throw her off like that? And in the middle of a battle?âÂ
Hyunjin realizes what the whole situation must have looked like to the spectators. He, a rider hating reptile, mercilessly tossed you into the enemyâs jaws while he stood to the side, not lifting a muscle only to forfeit the entire match. How Hye Ji managed to still believe in him after seeing that, he does not know.
âI donât have to explain myself to you.â
Chan takes another step forward, backing Hyunjin against the wall. âSure you do. Sheâs my-- MyâŠâ
âGirlfriend?â Hyunjin finishes for him.
âWell--â
A cough cuts him off. Both males turn toward you to see you scribbling something.
âChan, donât be so hard on him; he didnât mean it.â
Hyunjin doubts he even read the note as the other rider rushes to your side, taking your hand in his and rubbing your fingers.
âHow are you feeling? Do you need a nurse?â
âIâm fine,â you reply with a reassuring smile.Â
âIf you need anything, just tell me okay? Iâm always here for you.â
âActually, can I have a moment with him?âÂ
Chanâs right eye twitches as he turns to look at where youâre pointing.Â
âHe wonât hurt me,â you promise.
âFine. I trust you, but scream if anything happens, okay?â
You nod, and he walks out the door with a firm gaze on Hyunjin. The dragon walks up to you timorously.Â
âHey. I got you this.â He pulls out a strawberry yakult. He rubs it between his hands, trying to warm it, before poking a straw in it for you.
âThank you.â
âY/N?â
You raise your eyebrow, and he fidgets with the edge of your blanket.Â
âIâm sorry. For dropping you. And for being a bad dragon.â
You canât help but giggle at the last part. It makes him seem like even more of a sad puppy.Â
âI know you didnât mean it.â
âStill. Itâs my fault. I understand if you want to take back your promise of taking me to the New Yearâs Race.â
You place your hand over his. âI would never do that, but I do want one thing.â
He looks at you through his bangs.Â
âTell me how you lost your tail.â
Hyunjin freezes. Itâs not a topic heâs talked about to anyone, not even Changbin. Is he about to tell a rider of all people? He picks up his pen.
âI canât.â
You push down his pad. âIâm not asking you to write it. Iâm asking you to tell me.â
âBut you canât even hear it.â
âSo no pressure, right?â The smile that accompanies your note makes his stomach squeeze unnaturally.Â
Hyunjin frowns at you. âYou know youâre asking much more than getting on my back or dragging me out to practice in the middle of the night, right?â
You match his expression and sit up straight, setting the bottle of yakult on the nightstand. His eyes are fogging the same way they did both times before he rejected your magic. With caution as to not trigger him, you place your arms around his shoulders. To your surprise, he rests his chin on your shoulder.
I know.
You didnât have to say the words. It is like he can read your thoughts just by feeling your heart beating against him steadily and comfortingly. He was supposed to hate riders-- he was supposed to hate you-- but now, all he wants to do is everything to make sure you never leave his side.Â
He remembers how differently his ex-riderâs heartbeat felt. It was erratic and dangerous every time he was with Hyunjin. He remembers how his own heartbeat mirrored Leeâs on that fateful night when he was tied to the ground by nothing but the trust he placed in that wicked man.
âI, Hwang Hyunjin, Terror of the Twilights, the last rays of the sun, hereby swear my soul and body to the service of my master, Lee. May no shadows of death or rain from the crying skies touch my masterâs head before it feels the torment of my flames for as long as I live.â
âGood, good! Youâre doing so well, my boy! Thereâs just one more step now.â
Hyunjin nodded at his masterâs prompting and took on his dragon form. He raked his own claws against his skin to draw blood and offered it to Lee who let it rain all over him with a victorious laugh as his previously white pendant glowed a deep purple.
âNow⊠it is complete,â he sighs, slowly opening his eyes. âLetâs test it, shall we?â
Hyunjin was prancing around happily until Lee commanded him to freeze. Hyunjin gasped amazedly at the sensation. It was as if he was of one body and mind with his master, and he could not be happier than to share this experience with who he thought was his best friendâŠ
⊠until he heard the talks about the demand for Terror parts on the black market.Â
By then, it was too late to take back his oath. Hyunjin laid on the cold, hard stone, unable to do more than whimper as Lee cut into the first thing he could reach: his tailfin. Hyunjin could not feel the pain in his tail so much as he could feel the one in his heart.
âWhy?â he kept roaring. âWhy?âÂ
You feel the vibrations on his chest stop as he finishes his story. You donât make an effort to move afterwards and just continue rubbing slow circles onto his back. Heâs grateful for this, your warmth and your hospital gown thatâs soaking up years of unshed tears. Heâs also grateful for your steadfast support. You couldnât have understood anything-- why he treated you like trash and why he is clinging onto you now-- but youâve been there for him nonetheless.Â
He feels like you would tell him to his face beforehand if you wanted his other fin for money, and he feels like he would give it to you without hesitation if you did. At the same time, he feels like you never would ask such a thing, that you would rather sell your remaining senses before you did. He feels like he can trust again. For you, heâll trust again.
Thereâs a rustling outside your door, but not one which Hyunjin can process at the moment. Had he been able to, he might have opened it to see Chan taking his hand out of his pockets with a sigh of grievance and walking away down the hall.
~ ad.gold
#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#stray kids#skz#dragons#stray kids fantasy#stray kids senarios#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#dragon!hyunjin#stray kids chapter#deaf reader#stray kids fic#hyunjin fic#20200721
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Vague Poe Dameron x Gender Neutral readerÂ
Starring- Reader, Hux, Poe (mentioned)
Warnings- Torture, blood, swearing, guns, normal Star Wars content just a little bloodier
A/N- This is a new fandom for me to write for so hereâs to branching out! Iâll still post for Spencer Reid hopefully once a week but I have a bunch of other things Iâd like to write for as well!! Thank you Discord for helping me with this especially my beta readers @agntprentiss @fanficlibrary82 and @onedirectionfansarelegendsâ (This was the only way I could tag her for some reason) This idea literally came to me in a dream and I just had to write it down (it was supposed to be a blurb then came out to be 2k words đ€·ââïž) Requests are open!! @april-14-blogâ is my main blog where I reblog smut and fluff.
My head felt like it was on fire, that was the first thought that shot through my head as I came to. I struggled to pry open my eyes, it felt as if I had the weight of a starsystem pulling them closed.
Slowly my senses started coming back to me, I could tell I was strapped to a metal chair with binders around both of my wrists. They were bound tight, tight enough that I could feel the harsh metal digging into my flesh. I mustâve been captured from my latest mission for the resistance, though I could barely recall the details. All I could evoke from my memory was landing on the planet Kashyyyk, I was supposed to meet up with a spy who had critical information for new hyperspace lanes.
Suddenly the metal panel slid open snapped me out of my memories. The harsh scraping of metal on metal setting my teeth on edge. The anticipation of who was going to walk through was like sitting on needles and the hairs of my neck where standing straight up. My eyes were still adjusting to the harsh lighting that was casting varied shadows throughout the room. A silhouette came into my view and I could immediately tell who it was even without being able to see the details of his figure.
General Hux, a smarmy high ranking officer of the First Order. Well at least it wasnât Kylo Ren.
âY/N Y/L/N data analyst for the resistance.â Hux sneered from the shadows. âWe have a whole file on you, you hold key information about resistance tactics and locations. Resistance is futile, just give us the dataâ he stepped forward which allowed me to take in his slimy appearance. His eyes looked dead, no emotion was given away, I knew there was no weaseling my way out of this. Iâd have to fight my way out.
I completely blocked out Huxâs voice, letting it play in the background like a broken audiobulb, which helped me absorb the blows that started coming at my stomach from a stormtrooper. Eventually they moved up to my upper shoulders and face when it was clear they were getting no reaction from me.
My mouth was steadily filling with crimson blood, which gave me an idea to further goad the general. I spit the blood at Hux spraying his face scarlet and delivered a devilish insult.
âEat my shit, you flaccid son of of a street whoreâ I said with a bloody smirk, he was going to have to try harder if he wanted to get me to speak.
âYou rebel scumâ he spat out at me. Then with a raised fist he punched me in the nose with a sickening crack. âYouâll never leave here, youâll rot in a cell. Even if you do attempt to escape itâs not like you know how to fly. Weâre in the middle of deep space and youâre just a simple analyst.â He taunted at me, this was subtle confirmation that the pilot I came with was dead, at least it wasnât Poe I thought selfishly.
Through the threshold of my cell a probe droid came through, I started to unconsciously squirm, I knew what was coming next. The black floating sphere droid hovered over to me and shot out a syringe which was surely filled with something they were sure would make me talk.
âWe can do this the easy way or the hard wayâ Hux sneered out- Kriff I wish heâd just shut his mouth. âWhat where you doing orbiting Kashyyyk?â
I shook my head in defiance, I didnât care about pain, I just cared about the survival of the resistance.
âVery wellâ he grumbled before waving the torture droid towards me. The needle pricked my right forearm giving me a slice of the pain that was to come. It didnât creep up on me, but hit me with full force, making me feel as if fire was running through my veins. Hux started screaming at me again to try and pry out the information, even though whatever they injected into me didnât let me form a single thought. My eyes started to give way- I didnât know if I was going to pass out or die- just that I needed to do something to escape the burning pain. Relief flooded through my veins as the galaxy around me faded to black.
âââââââ
When I came to again my head was pulsing harder then before, plus there was a sharp ringing in my ears. Pushing my pain aside I promptly started to look for an escape route. Then I remembered how Poe and I had gotten out of being captured by Weequans on Felucia. I prepared myself to scream out to the troopers, Iâll fake being sick and hopefully theyâll let their guard down.
âHelp please!â I shouted in the most convincing scream I could managet. âIâm going to throw up! Youâll have to clean it up if you donât give me a bucket or something!!!â
The two stormtroopers stationed outside finally relented and opened the door with another whoosh. They clambered in obviously miffed that they would have to deal with me. One unlocked the binders and forcefully pulled them off me, giving some relief to my already bruised wrists. They shoved me out of the cell out towards the refresher that was reserved for prisoners.
âHurry up.â The second one snapped at me in a brusque tone while they shoved me through the door.
I assessed my surroundings trying to find anything to gain the upper hand, sadly it seemed as if I would have to use brute force to escape. I hunched over the toilet pretending to make a gagged sound and called for one of them to help me again. Swiftly I kicked the trooperâs legs out from under them and grabbed his blaster, the second immediately put his hands up knowing that I had the upper hand. I decided to spare the two, by knocking them out with the butt of the blaster.
My legs were burning as I ran out of the detention block with black spots dancing around my vision but, I wouldnât let myself stop for anything, I needed to get home. The Star destroyer I had gotten myself stranded on had an unnecessary amount of seemingly useless hallways. I was certain I had gotten lost in the deep dispensable cesspool, I had barely even run into any troopers, seemingly signaling that I was off course. Finally I saw the light of a hangar bag coming into view, then of course the alarm went off painting the col clinical hallways a deep red. They mustâve realized that I had escaped, my poor legs were close to giving up, the stress of being tortured had nearly beaten me into submission. Yet I willed myself further as I came in through the hangar doors, troopers were running around looking in every nook and cranny trying to find their lost prisoner. I hid my frame behind a stack of crates and peeled my eyes for a ship to pilot.
My pupils fixated on a tie fighter around the bend that luckily had no troopers snooping about. I made a mad dash towards the open hatch of the ship and hopped inside. Buttons and switches adorned the small ship looking slightly foreign to me. Instead of worrying about taking off I tried to apply basic flight knowledge that Poe taught to me and I got the ship hovering off the ground.
The troopers finally realized what was happening and started to fire at the ship, even though the tethering cable was still attached I grabbed the controls to swerve around incoming fire. I swung around until the end of the tethering cable came into my sights, I quickly swiveled over to the blaster controls. Aiming expertly I shot down the only thing holding me back from leaving this Sarlacc pit. I made my way back to the piloting controls and quickly passed through the exit out into deep space. Several tie fighters followed me trying to shoot me down as a crackling came through the comms.
âYouâll never outrun us!â Hux shouted through the comms, they mustâve still been connected through the enemy ships.
âAre you so sure about that Hux?!â My shaky hands were attempting to program the coordinates of the DâQar base into the navicomputer which was harder without an astromech to aide me.
âEven if you did escape the star destroyer Y/L/N you wouldnât get very far- youâre no pilotâ his voice like steel scraping through the comms.
â Did you know my name isnât Y/L/N anymore Hux?â I mocked as I prepared to jump into hyperspace, I had him right where I wanted him.
âThe nameâs Dameron, Hugsâ I slammed down the hyperspace lever and blasted off ready to go back to my husband who taught me how to fly.
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron#poe#Oscar Isaac#hux x reader#fanfiction#star wars imagine#star wars#imagine#y/n#clone wars#finn#rey skywalker#kylo x reader#kylo ren#poe dameron imagine
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