#we got lucky last fire that it got stopped before burning our land and we didn't have time to take the birds

[stumblngrumbl]

kinda thinking of getting a cargo trailer (enclosed box on wheels) and turning it into a chicken house/coop so not only is it moveable around the land (chicken tractor style) but it's trivial to pack the birds up when fire comes and we have to evacuate

[clareguilty]

The Naked Thing

Hello! I was dying without air conditioning a few weeks ago and decided to make it Mando Smut Mandalorian/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~2900

The Crest falls out of hyperspace too soon, and you go flying. Curling around Grogu in your arms, you twist in midair so that your back hits the console to avoid crushing him. A lever digs into your spine, and you curse loudly. That’s going to bruise. Oh well. What’s another?

“What the kriff, Mando?” you snarl. Grogu seems unbothered, blinking at you and probably learning way too many swear words for a child of his size.

Mando pulls himself off the control grid with a pained groan, helmet swiveling as he takes in the damage.

“The good news,” he begins after a moment, “is that we lost them.”

That is good news, you agree. You were lucky that the army of bounty hunters and ex-imps hadn’t kept track of you. If you had shaken them off your trail, then that would earn you a head start to a safer system.

“The bad news is that they shot out our hyperdrive.”

“Dank Farrik,” you curse again, then glance at Grogu. Maybe you should watch your mouth more?

“...And our temperature regulator and our heat shields.”

You decide that it is an appropriate time for as much foul language as you please.

“What does that mean?” you ask. You hadn’t grown up around ships -- spent the last dozen years on the same dead-end planet until Mando picked you up. The most you were good for was turning a knob or flipping a switch here and there. Usually you just kept an eye on Grogu while Mando did all the piloting and bounty hunting and whatnot.

“We’ll have to travel sublight, but we can’t land planet side because without the heat shields any atmosphere worth a damn would burn us up. Our only option is a New Republic Outpost. We’ll be able to land there, and we’ll be safe while they repair the Crest. I’ll chart us a course and let you know how long it should be.”

“You know,” you snap, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t so scared of droids. If we had an astromech on board, then we could get the hyperdrive repaired without having to crawl our asses through deep space in the hopes that whoever picks us up doesn’t want us dead.”

Mando doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your words meant anything at all to him because you can’t see shit behind his helmet. Huffing, you take Grogu down to the hold. Not long after, the engines fire up again.

It takes a few minutes to set in, but its quick enough to be noticeable. The ship is getting hotter. Like… unbearably warm.

You fill a canteen with water and make sure that you and Grogu are both hydrated. After a little bit of digging, you manage to find a portable air circulator. You and Grogu sit directly in front of the current, doing your best to keep cool.

Mando comes down after a little while, he cocks his helmet when he sees you.

“It’s hot,” you whine.

“The temperature regulator is shot too. We don’t have a way too cool the ship down or shield the heat of the engines.”

You sigh. “How long until we can get repairs?”

“34 hours. Will the kid be okay for that long?”

Grogu hasn’t outwardly complained about the heat, mostly just sitting in front of the circulator with his eyes closed and ears flapping, but you’ve been worried as well. “He’s kind of… amphibious,” you frown. “I’ll get him a basin of water to sit in and put him in the fresher with the circulator. That should keep him cooled off.”

Mando nods. “Thank you. Will you be okay?”

You shrug. There’s not much you can do. As long as you stay hydrated then you should be able to last 34 hours.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“For what?” All you’ve done is curse at him and berate him for not having an astromech droid.

“For looking out for him back there. You saved all of us with that droid popper. And the move with the cannon was impressive.”

You aren’t expecting genuine praise from Mando. It always felt as though you were dead weight to him. Through all the planets you’ve been on -- and been chased off of -- you’ve always felt useless.You can’t fly, you’re not the best shot, you can barely take care of his kid. It means a lot that he doesn’t actually hate you. 

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” you grin. You had never considered yourself a hero or adventurer, but you had commandeered a cannon and shot down three imperial fighters.

“I’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything. Just knock.” And he’s gone.

‘Knock’ means that Mando is probably going to take his helmet and armor off, which means you also get a few hours of total privacy. You set Grogu up in the fresher with a basin of water and the circulator -- though it pains you to give up the weak, artificial breeze.

It’s only gotten hotter, and your already filthy clothes are starting to became unbearable. You had gotten splashed with gore and grime and who knows what in your escape, and it wasn’t pairing well with the heat onboard.

Stripping out of your clothes, you sprawl naked on the metal floor. It’s dusty, but slightly cool, and you plaster as much of your skin to the durasteel as you can manage.

Time passes with you systematically rolling across the floor of the hold to try and keep from baking. It’s bearable only because you know there will be an end. As long as the ship keeps chugging along towards the space outpost, then you will be saved.

The hatch to the cockpit opens, and you leap to your feet. Mando clambers down, jumping when he sees you.

“You’re naked,” he raises his hands -- his bare hands -- and backs against the ladder.

“You’re naked.” you point.

“I have a helmet and pants on,” he says. But that’s all he has on. His chest and arms are bare, and it’s more skin than you’ve ever seen before on the man.

“I’ve never seen you out of your armor. That has got to be more scandalous than me being naked.”

You must have made a point, because Mando doesn’t respond. Instead, you both just kind of… stand there. You can’t tear your eyes away from his chest and from the angle his helmet is pointed it seems he’s having a similar issue.

“Did you, uh, need anything?” you finally manage to ask. Your mouth is dry, and you take another uncoordinated drink from the canteen, shivering as some of the water spills down your chest.

Mando coughs. “I just wanted to make sure the kid is okay.”

“Oh,” you turn to open the fresher door just a crack. You had checked on him just a few minutes ago, and he still seems fine. After a moment of pause, Mando comes up behind you and you can feel the heat of his skin against your back.

Grogu is asleep, curled up just in front of the circulator and the basin of water so that the cool air blows over him. The fresher is several degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, and while it feels amazing, you don’t want to let the heat in.

“I’m going to go back up now,” Mando says quickly, and then he’s gone through the hatch once again.

You resume your circuit of laying on the floor, but it feels like the ship is only getting hotter.

That’s when you take to banging on the hatch to the cockpit. “Mando, I’m going to kick your ass! You had better get us to that outpost or find a way too cool this ship down! I spent years on Tatooine, and this is the hottest I have ever been in my entire life!”

“I can cut the engines to stop generating any heat, but then we’ll just be coasting through empty space and we’ll never make it to the outpost.”

You huff. “At this point you should just freeze me in carbonite.”

Mando does not freeze you in carbonite, but you do eventually make it to the New Republic outpost. They give the three of you a small dorm and Mando arranges for the Razor Crest to be repaired. You don’t have any credits between you, so you wonder what he offers in exchange.

You toss your gear into the room and head out to get food for everyone. You always enjoy being in New Republic space. No one is out to murder you or imprison you. The officers are usually nicer. Everyone likes the Skywalkers.

A friendly droid loads you up with several plates of food, and you stop to check out the holonet broadcasts on your way back. Things in this corner of the galaxy are a little hectic -- something you just witnessed firsthand -- but its less gloomy than it used to be.

Mando is sitting on the lower bunk when you get back. He’s back in his full armor, but you can read his posture pretty well. Grogu is playing in the corner, levitating some rocks you had found for him a few planets back. You set the tray down, fully intending to take your portion and eat out in the hall or in one of the communal sitting rooms. Before you can even turn away, Mando has already grabbed a plate of food and tugged his helmet off.

“WOAH,” you raise your hands in front of your face, ducking your head before you can see too much. Curly hair. Tan skin. Moustache. If there is one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Mando doesn’t let anyone see him without his helmet. It’s a cultural thing, and you respect that. “What is with you being naked today?”

Your eyes are open, but very pointedly looking at a wall nowhere near him. He shifts for a moment, and you wait for some kind of explanation.

“Look,” he finally begins, “we’ve been through a lot together at this point. I’ve traveled with you longer than anyone since I was a foundling with the watch. You’ve saved my life as well as Grogu’s many times, and we just survived one hell of a fight. Not to mention, I saw, um, all of you today. I figure it’s only fair.”

You’re touched. It’s an honor that Mando trusts you enough to remove his helmet. For as long as you have been travelling together, you’ve assumed that you care for him far more than he cares for you. “You don’t have to,” you say. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I trust you,” he repeats.

You turn to face him. His eyes are so soft. Tired and kind and the warmest brown. He stares at you, taking you in for the first time with his own eyes and not the visor in his helmet. It’s unreasonably intimate considering he was staring at you naked with the helmet on just 16 hours before.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of cute?” you laugh and look away, smoothing your hands over your pants. There’s food in front of you, and you use that as a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before now to see me.”

How can he just say things like that? You try to drown the rapid beating of your heart behind some kind of bitter vegetable.

Mando begins to eat as well, slowly and unsurely. He picks at a few different dishes before finally speaking again. “You’ve, uh- I mean… you’re beautiful as well.”

You laugh loudly at that. It’s so shy. This man had seen you overheated and completely naked lying on the floor of his ship. You roll your eyes and shoot him a wink. “Something you like in particular?”

Mando chokes, coughing for a minute before chugging down half a glass of green jelly juice. He finally regains his composure, but his voice is rough when he speaks again. “I’d say the best view was from behind.”

It’s the last thing you expect from him. He’s so shy and reserved and has always backed down from your defensive teasing. It’s a moment before you can pull yourself together. Still, you aren’t sure what to say. Instead, you cram some shredded raw crustacean in your mouth and hope you aren’t too flushed.

Mando offers to take the trays back. The dorm bathroom has a shower with running water and you intend to take full advantage. Grogu rolls a rock at your feet as you head into the bathroom, and you lightly kick it back to him. ��Are you tired of putting up with us yet? You’ve been a baby longer than I’ve been alive. I bet we seem like idiots to you.”

Grogu, predictably, says nothing. He makes a raspberry noise with his lips and plops down into a sit.

The shower is one of the greatest gifts you’ve ever enjoyed in life. Hot water, high pressure, steam and soap. You take your time washing up and letting the jets work out all of the kinks in your muscles.

When you slide the stall door aside, Mando is standing at the sink. Helmetless. Shirtless.

He jumps slightly, staring at the floor as you step out of the shower. 

“We have got to stop doing this naked thing,” you say. It doesn’t actually bother you. You like that Mando trusts you, and you’ve never been shy about being naked around others, but he’s too attractive and it drives you nuts.

“I rather enjoy it,” he manages to pull his gaze from the floor to shoot you a wink. Your pulse speeds up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mando,” you step forward. You’re still steaming from the shower and dripping wet. He’s never been this cheeky before, and you kind of enjoy it.

His gaze darkens, eyebrows rasing. He reaches out to grab your waist, pulling you in and pinning you against the sink. You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours, leaning back as he crowds you against the basin.

“Grogu is napping,” he whispers.

“I think the shower will fit both of us,” you breathe.

He’s already working at the buckle of his pants, toeing out of his boots. You drag him back into the shower with you. The jets hit his back, and he melts a little. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he looks like he may collapse. His eyes flutter shut, one of his hands slamming against the wall by your head.

You lean in to brush your lips over his skin as you stroke his cock. You’d never even seen this man’s face before today, and now you’re kissing your way over his jaw and down his neck. His other hand grabs your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you closer so your hips brush his.

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, and he shudders. It happens so fast, you didn’t know he had spun you around until your cheek is against the shower wall. His hands are glue to your hips, digging into your ass and pulling you to him so he can grind his cock against your slick skin.

“Please,” you whine. You haven’t had sex with anyone since you began travelling with Mando, and opportunities to get yourself off come few and far between with three of you on the Crest. You’re desperately horny, and you’ve wanted to fuck this man since you found him in that godforsaken desert.

He lines himself up and drives his hips forward, sinking into you with one solid thrust. You bite your forearm to muffle your moans, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch.

“You good?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. 

“Move,” you say, demanding but desperate.

It takes a moment to find leverage in the tiny -- smaller than you first assumed -- shower stall, but Mando begins to fuck you at a steady pace. You reach down to rub your clit, clenching around him. You’re going to finish quicker than you’re used to -- probably because you’ve been turned on since you saw Mando shirtless on the crest.

From the way Mando’s hips twitch and his rhythm falters, you guess that he’s close to coming as well.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips, your ass, trailing over your stomach and and reaching up to squeeze your breasts. His fingers brush your throat and you nearly come from the touch alone. He feels the way you tighten around his cock and places a hand on your neck, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

You come so hard your knees give out and your vision goes white. Mando keeps you from collapsing in a bruised heap on the shower floor by simply continuing to fuck you until he comes as well.

It’s not a lot of space, so you’re slumped together under the spray of the water. You manage to wipe yourself clean in a few swipes and stagger back out so Mando can actually wash up. He’s much quicker than you were, and he’s out of the shower by the time you’ve finished rubbing scented moisturizer over your skin. The New Republic sure knew how to treat their guests.

“I think we should definitely keep doing the naked thing,” he grins.

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 6

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

A/N: hehe my mistake, i forgot to queue up this update and by the time i realized it was too late so i'm posting this a day late ^^

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella @xsam1992x

The man froze in his tracks after entering the room and catching you laying on the couch with Bang Chan on top, practically devouring you. He looked scarred, to be frank, as he quickly snapped back to reality and bolted out the door in less than a second. As he made his grand escape, you forcefully pushed Bang Chan off of you. He swore under his breath before tripping out the door, trying to follow the man who had just caught you.

You sat up, head in your hands. This was exactly what you were scared of. What you worried so much about a few nights back. What Bang Chan reassured you of not happening.

You feel panic set in as you thought of the worst case scenario. Yup. You were going to get fired for sure. And the news will go to the public, resulting in Bang Chan also losing his job. You would then have to move back with your parents, and everybody will have the same look of shame and pity whenever they see you.

This wasn’t good. You stood up to make your own inconspicuous escape, but it seemed like Bang Chan beat you to the door.

“That was Jisung,” Bang Chan said. He entered, making sure to lean against the door just in case anybody else wanted to intrude.

The name and the face clicked in your mind. He was part of Stray Kids as well as Bang Chan’s coworker. You recognized him more commonly as Han, as his name has come up in a lot of the work you’ve been sent.

“What did he say?” you asked skeptically. Worry was setting in.

“Don’t worry, he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. I trust him.”

How were you supposed to believe that? You’ve never even spoken to this man in your life, and now you were supposed to put the future of your career in his hands?

“But I don’t, Chan. I’ve never even met this guy in real life before. How can I trust that he won’t tell one of your other group members?” You heard your voice get louder with every word.

“I had a talk with him just now, Y/n, you can trust him. Out of everybody in this company, he’s the least likely to tell just anybody — even one of our members.” He paused, “don’t you trust me, Y/n?”

You were speechless. Your trust in him was completely different from your trust in Jisung, and you were sure he knew that. Obviously you trusted Bang Chan, but you didn’t know the extent that his group members would go to for a secret. Especially one that could have an effect on their careers as well.

“You can’t just ask me that, and you know it,” you sneered. “You know what? It’s my fault. I was too careless. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait, Y/n-”

You didn’t even let him finish before stomping out the door, making sure to check your surroundings for anybody that could catch you before heading back up to your cubicle. You felt the heat of your cheeks the whole elevator ride.

You were on edge for the rest of the day. When Manager Chen asked to see you in her office, you were so startled that you quite literally jumped from your seat. You were sure somebody had informed her of what happened, but it turned out that she just wanted to rearrange the usual Friday meeting.

Because of the filming tomorrow, the project meeting had to be arranged for next week. Which you were fine with, of course, since you did not want to face all your managers in one place after what had just happened.

Throughout the rest of the day, you started to feel more and more guilty for how you reacted at lunch. As your mind cleared, you realized how rash you were with your decision making and how you only thought about yourself. You also thought about how rude it was to talk about Jisung like that, especially in front of Bang Chan — who cared a lot about the boy.

Logging off your email for the day, the thought of Bang Chan still lingered bitterly in your mind. You wished to apologize for your harsh behaviour, so you started to make your way over to his producing room.

However, you hadn’t even made it on the elevator before you were stopped.

“Hey, uhm — you might not recognize me, but I’m the guy from earlier. Han Jisung.”

He was standing politely behind you, hands folded together behind him.

“Hello, I still remember. You know, from earlier,” you awkwardly breathed out a laugh. You didn’t know what to say or why he was here.

“Hyung told me I could find you here and that I should apologize.” He took his hands out from behind him. “He also said that this might help.”

In his hand was a bottle of mango juice. Your heart warmed at the thought of Bang Chan still caring for you, despite you being such a jerk earlier.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I’m sorry for barging in like that and leaving so suddenly. I should’ve knocked or something before coming in, but Chan-hyung is somebody I’m very close to. I would never jeopardize him in any way.”

Hearing him apologize made you realize how little thinking you had done. Jisung regularly worked with Bang Chan, so of course he would just enter the room without knocking.

“Thanks for your apology, but I should be apologizing. I was the one being reckless. You did nothing wrong, Jisung. I trust that you wouldn’t tell anybody of this.”

“Thanks,” he said as the both of you entered the elevator.

The both of you stood in silence for a bit before he started again.

“So, Chan hyung huh.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, he’s the best looking one out of all of us… after me of course.”

“Oh my god.” You blushed, head in your hands as he kept elbowing you.

“But, Y/n.” He got all serious again. His serious-playful demeanor was giving you whiplash. “You know what you’re doing is dangerous, right? Not only for him, but also for you. I love our fans, but there are some that have taken it too far before. I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“Thanks Jisung,” you started, “for that and for keeping this secret.”

“Of course, any ‘friend’ of Hyung's is a friend of mine.” He winked, causing you to heat up from embarrassment again.

The elevator reached Jisung’s floor, and he got out.

“Oh, also, I think you should call Chan hyung. He’s been pretty down this whole afternoon, and even my natural charisma couldn’t cheer him up.”

You thanked him for the last time before the elevator doors closed, promising him that you would contact Bang Chan.

And you did — as soon as you were alone in the elevator.

One ring. Two rings. A third.

“Hello?” He sounded out of breath.

“Chan?”

“Yes, Y/n?”

Crap, he sounded annoyed.

“Uhm, can we meet up somewhere? I-I wanted to talk to you.”

There was a slight pause.

“I’m at the gym right now. We could meet at the playground by the river in an hour.”

“Ok.” You hung up after that. It was a weird phone call. From his voice alone, you could obviously tell something was bugging him. You knew you were that something.

Grabbing a quick bite at a nearby convenience store, you started your journey to the playground. It wasn’t too far of a walk, but you decided to go earlier since it was already starting to get dark.

You hoped Bang Chan wasn’t in too much of a bad mood, especially after your conversation with Jisung. Honestly, you weren’t too excited to apologize. Not because you didn’t feel bad, but because of his cold and monotone voice through the phone. You didn’t want to admit it — especially because you had just met this man a few weeks ago — but you were scared of his possible rejection. It terrified you.

Breathing into your hands for warmth, you finally saw the playground up ahead. It was near the river, but covered by trees. You now understood why Bang Chan picked this place.

It was empty, as you assumed no child would want to play tag on a cold and dark evening. You sat on a swing, mindlessly swinging up and down whilst staring at the upcoming moon. The sound of crickets chirping combined with the cool autumn breeze almost brought you to serenity, but the thought of confronting Bang Chan grounded you back to earth.

You turned your head at the sound of panting. Bang Chan had jogged here. The ends of his hair were damp with sweat, stuck to his forehead. You wanted to call him crazy, as the only thing he wore was a sleeveless tank top and a pair of shorts on a cold autumn night.

He made his way to the swings.

“Hey,” he said, hopping on to the swing beside you. He was still out of breath from jogging.

“Hey,” you paused for a few seconds to think of what to say. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I wasn’t thinking. I know you care about your job as well, and it was selfish of me to walk out on you. I’m also sorry for talking about Jisung like that. I met him this afternoon and he seemed like a good guy. And if there’s anything else I missed, I’m sorry for that too.”

You looked up at Bang Chan with puppy eyes, hoping that he would understand. He looked back at you.

“I accept your apology, Y/n. And look, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially at the office. I knew that anybody could have walked in, and I was careless. We were lucky this time, but next time we might not be.”

“Next time?” Your eyes brightened.

“Y/n,” he got up, “I’m scared. I’m scared that I feel this way about you after only a few weeks. I’m terrified of losing my job, my coworkers, and friends. But Y/n, I just want you. I’m laying all my cards out on the table. This is how I feel, what about you?”

That was a lot to take in. Your grip tightened on the swing.

“Chan, everything you just said, I feel the same way. Everything about this scares me, but I just want you. Only you.”

You got up and wrapped your arms around him. You felt the cold sweat of his arms against your skin, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be near him.

He wrapped his arms around you in return, digging his nose into your neck. You felt his damp hair against your skin.

“Chan, you’re all sweaty,” you teased, pushing his head away.

“I don’t care.” His words came out muffled against your neck as he dug his nose further.

“I feel like a kid being in a playground.” You scanned the empty playground, reminiscing on your childhood.

“Would a kid do this?”

Bang Chan, with his fingers on your chin, turned his head to kiss you so deep you thought you were going faint. You returned the kiss, hands gripping hard on to the sides of his tank. It seemed like the two of you were in your own little world.

“You should go. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” Bang Chan said after eventually breaking the kiss.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, trying to stall for time. You knew that the both of you should get going.

Eventually, after quite a while, you left for home. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A very cute and dimple-y weight.

That evening, you packed all your necessities for the overnight shoot tomorrow, and fell asleep with high hopes for the next day. You were excited to see all your — along with the production team’s — efforts come to fruition.

The next morning, you woke up early and energized. You double checked that everything was ready before heading out to the JYPE building.

Manager Chen had informed you of which van you would be riding in to the set. Although she wasn’t in the vehicle with you, you had the opportunity to chat amongst some other very interesting members in the production crew.

After a few hours of driving, your van — along with the others — arrived. You helped the production crew set up as much as you could, as you were told the boys already started filming their drive to the set. Whilst waiting for the boys to come, you socialized around with both the production crew and Manager Chen.

Soon, after chatting for a bit, you saw the long awaited van pull up to the set. The boys got out, one by one, each holding their own little video cameras.

Bang Chan got out last. He looked amazing, really. With his hair and makeup done and his outfit styled, he was almost like a different person. You’ve never seen him without black on, but this was a surprisingly refreshing look.

It was chaos. With every boy at their peak energy, there was never a boring moment on set. It was clear that everybody — even the quieter ones — had established nice dynamics within the group. You watched them in awe, with Manager Chen telling you the behind happenings every now and then.

You found it so hard to hold in your laughter as the boys attempted to make mooncakes. It reminded you of your childhood; when you used to do the same with your mother.

As Bang Chan read off the script which you helped with, you felt a certain sense of pride in your heart. You smiled at him as he expressed himself to the camera.

It was dinner time for the boys, so that meant dinner for you and the crew as well. You followed the production team to a noodle restaurant. It was a small and cute, grandma-grandpa owned place. The menu, however, was huge.

“Y/n, this is Manager Jung,” Manager Chen said. She directed your gaze to a guy who looked in his late twenties. You instantly recognized him as the manager that drove you home on your first day of work.

“We’ve met before,” he said.

“You have?” Manager Chen was surprised.

“We have, but it’s nice to meet you under better circumstances,” you blushed. You hoped that you didn’t leave too bad of a first impression with him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve only heard good things about you from Manager Chen,” he said. “Actually, we were just discussing the sleeping arrangements for tonight.”

“Yes, we’ve managed to book a place that has enough rooms for everybody to sleep alone. They’re not the best of rooms, but this was the best we could do with our budget,” Manager Chen said.

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. You were fully expecting to share a room with five other women.

You had a happy evening, eating and chatting before getting back to work. You watched as the boys carried out every production order to a tee, all the while keeping up their high energy even late into the night.

You helped the production crew with setting up fireworks for their next segment. Even the act of setting up got you excited as you haven’t seen fireworks in so long. Especially in a new country.

The rest of the filming went smooth, with the end slate following the last firework of the evening. You watched as the boys all lined up in a straight line to thank the production and camera crew. Bang Chan’s eyes landed right on yours. You smiled. He smiled back.

The boys were then ushered by Manager Jung into their own hostel, and you followed the crew to your room. The room was lit by a small incandescent light bulb. It was a small room with nothing but a mat for the floor, a small blanket, and a pillow. Though, to be fair, you weren’t expecting much.

You laid out the mat and blanket, washed up, and was about to call it in when you received a text from Bang Chan.

Bang Chan: You looked cute today.

You blushed, not aware that Bang Chan had even seen you during the day. He looked so busy with filming the whole time that you hadn’t even made eye contact. You smiled and returned the text.

Y/n: You too ^^

And with that, you peacefully fell asleep.

You had a tranquil dream; with only clouds, and sunshine, and… Manager Jung?

“Y/n!” he called.

Your dream clone hopped over to him to say hello.

“Y/n!” He called again. He looked worried. “Y/n!”

You suddenly jolted awake.

“Y/n! Hurry, get out!” He was coughing, holding the hem of his shirt up to his face.

You looked at him. His silhouette was clouded by smoke. You looked up.

The light bulb hanging from was burning and emitting a smoke of some kind. You gasped in shock, instantly regretting it as you breathed in a large amount of the smoke.

Manager Jung was already running outside at this point, and you quickly ran after him. Along the way you tried to hold your breath, but with every inhale you took in, a cloud of smoke followed. You coughed and kept running.

It seemed as if you were the last person out, as everybody staying at the hostel had already evacuated. Manager Chen was standing outside, a look of worry on her face.

“Y/n, are you okay?” She ran over to you.

“Yes,” you coughed. You still felt the smoke in your throat. “What happened?”

“The light bulb in your room caught on fire,” Manager Jung intervened. “Manager Chen was still awake when she smelled the smoke, and she evacuated everybody inside. Everybody woke up except you, Y/n.”

“Is everybody else okay?” you asked. You could hear how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Everybody else is alright. For some reason, the fuse shortage was only isolated to your room,” Manager Chen replied.

It was unfortunate that, out of all the rooms, the broken light bulb was in yours. However, you were glad that everybody else was safe. You were also thankful that Manager Jung woke you up in time, leaving you with only a sore throat.

“Hyung!”

You whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Bang Chan was sprinting across the dirt path in your direction. His hair was disheveled and his t-shirt wrinkled. Behind him was Jisung, dashing over so fast that he somehow managed to match Bang Chan’s pace. Jisung threw his hand, catching the back of Bang Chan’s shirt, pulling him back. Jisung then said some incoherent words to Bang Chan, which seemed to have slowed him down. Bang Chan took a couple deep breaths before waiting for his other members and walking over to you and the crew.

“What happened? Is everybody okay?” Bang Chan asked, concerned. He glanced at you before facing Manager Jung again.

“Everybody is fine,” Manager Jung reassured him. “There was a problem with the light bulb in a crew member’s room, but everybody has evacuated now. You and the boys don’t need to worry. Just go back to your rooms as you have a long day tomorrow.”

“Whose room was it?” Bang Chan asked, ignoring everything Manager Jung had just told him.

Manager Jung hesitated before pointing at you. Upon realization, Bang Chan jerked forward, only to be stopped by Jisung again. He gave Bang Chan a look.

“I’m okay,” you coughed out. It was hard to not sound so hoarse when you had just been breathing in smoke for god knows how long.

Bang Chan gave a deadpan look to Manager Jung.

“We have extra rooms where we’re staying, maybe Y/n can stay with us?” he asked.

“That is unnecessary, I will let Y/n use my room and I will stay with you. I’m sure Y/n would be on board,” Manager Jung said. He looked over to you, and you nodded in agreement.

“I guess that would work,” Bang Chan hesitantly said, “but what if this happens again with another room?”

“I’m sure that won’t-”

“Manager Jung!” Manager Chen interrupted, waving her hands whilst running over. “A member of our production crew took a look at the fuse box connected to Y/n’s room, and it seems like somebody tampered with the wires on purpose.”

[petertingle-yipyip]

SIN MIEDO - BUCKY BARNES (THREE)

EPISODE THREE : POWER BROKER

series tags: @calums-betch​​ // SM masterlist // another madripoor gif bc i loved those scenes

Pairing: Stark!Reader x Bucky Barnes (platonic/flirty)

Word Count: 9,209

Summary: Leaving John Walker in the dust, Y/N had to follow Barnes to a shifty contact. That leads them to Madripoor and an unexpected, and suspicious, ally. Juggling her grief, her control, her own doubts, the pressure of Walker on their tail, and a school girl crush, can she handle the fight?

The next day, the three of you found yourselves in Berlin. You weren’t surprised how easy it was to get through security. Flashing a smile and an ID with Stark on it opened pretty much any door. Surely it had nothing to do with Sam working with the Air Force again.

“Last time I was in Germany, we weren’t on the same side.” You commented nostalgically as you three followed the security guard. “How the tables have turned.”

“I’m gonna go in alone.” Barnes said as you all approached the last corridor.

“Not a chance.” You laughed as Sam said “Why?”

“You’re Avengers..” Barnes reasoned. “You know how he feels about that.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolicking in the sun together.” Sam mocked.

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history. Trust me, I got it.” Barnes assured before turning to leave. When Sam didn’t stop him, you did.

Quickly you reached out and grabbed his wrist. You made no effort to pull him back and he didn’t exactly pull away from you. He looked back at you with a stern expression, that he wasn’t going to cave.

“You’re not going alone, Barnes.” You said seriously, tightening your grip on his wrist slightly.

“Y/N-“ He tried.

“No.” You cut in. “I don’t care. I can do this all day.” You offered with a slight smirk.

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before caving. He nodded slightly, his expression betraying that he was slightly impressed. “Fine. Hurry up.” He said, nodding for you to follow.

“Yessir, Sergeant Barnes.” You chuckled as you followed behind Barnes. The comment earned you an eye roll and a scoff, but nothing was said.

“You sure you want to do this?” You checked as you two waited for security to let you in. “I can handle it on my own..”

“I can do it.” He nodded as you approached the cell.

“I’m sure you can.” You shrugged casually. “It was more about if you wanted to.”

You stayed a couple steps behind Barnes, using the shadows to stay mostly out of sight. You didn’t want to talk to Zemo, let alone be in the room. But part of you wanted to make sure that nothing happened. You didn’t know if you could stop Barnes if Zemo triggered the Winter Soldier, but you probably had the best shot.

You watched Barnes’ body language carefully. From your angle, you could see the look on his face. The tension of his shoulders. The hand you could see was in a tight fist. There was a certain fear in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched. You could tell that a part of him, even if it was a small part, was scared that Zemo would send him back to the Winter Soldier.

Zemo tried the trigger words but earned no reaction from Barnes. You let out a breath of relief and saw Barnes’ shoulders relax as that tension left him. You didn’t doubt that Barnes had control, that his time in Wakanda was enough to rid his mind of HYDRA’s influence, but you also knew Zemo was crafty. You didn’t trust that he didn’t have a couple tricks up his sleeve. But then again… So did you.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Zemo said, catching your attention. “It was never personal.”

“Seemed kinda personal.” You muttered to yourself. You were anxious, shifting your weight between your feet. You wondered what Sam was feeling back in the hallway but you couldn’t go back. The tension in your body was begging for a release, seemingly burning it’s way through your skin. There was a crackle of electricity between your fingers, a skill you hardly had a grip on. You only figured out how to use it in quick bursts or it would build itself up in moments of high tension.

“You brought a friend?” Zemo questioned, his eyes turning to you. You sunk deeper into the shadows.

“Someone recreated the super soldier serum.” Barnes said to redirect his attention. There was more control in his tone and it settled something anxious in the pit of your stomach. “I need to find out who.”

“You’re assuming HYDRA has something to do with this.” Zemo said simply, studying Barnes as he spoke. The expression Zemo held, the way he was looking at Barnes like an experiment, tempted you to reveal yourself. Something about it made your skin crawl, but you knew you had to refrain. You needed the info. “Which is why you came to me, which means you’re desperate…” A smug tone laced his voice and made you want to gag. “Lucky for you, and your friend in the shadows, I know where to begin.”

“And in exchange?” You finally spoke, stepping into the small sliver of light and taking your place beside Barnes. “What’s it going to take?”

His sly smile made you instantly regret the question.

Without explaining anything to Sam, you and Barnes led him to a series of tunnels underground. You opted to remain silent through the endeavor, knowing you wouldn’t be able to explain it right. While Sam pestered Barnes about the plan, you were busy finding the best route.

You kept one hand against the concrete wall, tapping your fingers to feel the vibrations. The tunnels were empty save for you three. They lead to a basement where you stopped for Barnes to walk Sam through a “hypothetical”.

“Please tell me this is an actual hypothetical.” Sam looked to you. In the meantime, you were toying with balls of air in your palm. You were balancing on them in a handstand.

“Yeah.” You lied. “It’s a hypothetical.”

Barnes continued to explain everything while you purposefully distracted yourself. You weren’t a huge fan of this plan, but Barnes had a point. Zemo offered a starting point. Walker had nothing. You guys had nothing. Though you’d never admit it, you needed Zemo.

“Speak of the devil.” You commented when you felt his footsteps approaching. You landed back on your feet as Zemo entered the room.

“You’re going back to prison.” Sam insisted.

“If I may-“ Zemo tried.

“No!” Sam and Barnes yelled simultaneously.

“Sorry.” You said with a shrug, bringing your forearms up and slamming them together. The movement called walls of earth to rise and trap Zemo in a thick rock casing. “It’s nothing personal.”

“When Steve refused to sign the Accords, you backed him.” Barnes countered.

“You broke the law and stuck your neck out for him.” You added.

“I distinctly remember you-“ Sam pointed to you. “-were on the other side.”

“My name’s not anywhere on that document.” You corrected. “I was a minor. Wouldn’t have been legally binding.”

“I’m asking you to do it again.” Barnes tried.

“I really think I’m invaluable-“ Zemo began again.

“Shut up!” You groaned, lifting the rock to meet his chin. “I will go all the way up.” You threatened before turning your attention back to the boys. “I’m with Barnes. I know it’s crazy but it’s the best shot we got. And we gotta move fast cause Walker is working on this too.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed finally. You dropped the rock prison and looked to the boys. “You don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair.” Zemo nodded.

“Otherwise, you deal with me.” You said simply. His eyebrows raised in interest, a slight challenge glinting in his eyes. You lifted your hand in front of your face, palm to the side. As you lowered your hand, you angled it so your fingertips pointed at Zemo. You saw his muscles tighten as he struggled but gave in to your control and went down to his knees.

“Dad once said the best weapon was the weapon you only had to fire once.” You said as if you were contemplating the words. “Let’s hope he was right.” You released Zemo before Sam spoke up.

“So where do we start?” He asked.

While Zemo was collecting his things from one of the cars, he explained where to start. He mentioned a woman named Selby as a starting point.

“This whole time you were rich?” Sam asked wildly as you approached a private jet.

“I’m a Baron, Sam.” Zemo answered in a matter of fact tone. “My family was royalty until you destroyed my country.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “The Stark jet is nicer.”

You sat across from Barnes while Sam sat across from Zemo. You weren’t too interested in conversation. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you really care. The sudden movement of Barnes made you snap to attention.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Barnes threatened lowly with a hand at Zemo’s throat.

“At ease, soldier.” You reached over to tug on Barnes’ jacket. After a moment’s hesitation, he came and sat back down.

“I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo said with a solemn nod. He gestured between you and Barnes. “What I don’t understand is the relationship here. Are you two… involved?”

“Don’t push it.” Barnes muttered angrily as you simply rolled your eyes.

Sam talked about the book, that it used to be Steve’s. He bragged about how he suggested something for Steve to write in it. You remembered you had suggested some things for him to look into too, your favorite had been all the horror movies you got him to add.

Sam and Barnes then bickered about the Troubleman soundtrack, to which Zemo chimed in. You groaned slightly, throwing your head back and staring at the ceiling. The conversation quickly shifted to Steve and super soldiers, mildly peaking your interest.

“Cities fly. Innocent people die.” Zemo carried on.

“You forget who you’re talking to.” You laughed in disbelief.

“Pardon?”

“You’re talking about Sokovia… I was there. And my dad nearly died - yet again - trying to save the world… Trying to fix his mistake but no one cared about that part, right?.”

“Only nearly..” He agreed. “I think it’s fair to say the Avengers, none of you were really innocent.”

“And he actually did die to bring back half the universe so excuse me if I don’t share your bitterness.”

“It seems that you do, Y/N.” He analyzed, watching the response your eyes gave away.

“Shut it.” You rolled your eyes.

Conversation quickly shifted to Madripoor. Zemo and Barnes explained what it’s like, what it was. It sounded like a place out of a book, but given that your career was fighting A.I. powered robots and a giant genocidal purple lunatic, nothing was surprising anymore.

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo told Barnes.

A solemn expression came over Barnes. You couldn’t tell if it was regret, remorse, or something else. You leaned forward, resting elbows on your knees. You nodded to motion Barnes to come closer. He leaned forward in the same way.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” You asked quietly. “We can find another way, or we can do this witho-“

“I’m not sitting out.” He cut in. “I’ll be fine. Why do you keep trying to sideline me?”

“You won’t be alone.” You offered genuinely. “Sam and I got your back.”

Later that night, you walked the bridge that led to Madripoor. 

“So who am I supposed to be, exactly?” You asked after Zemo had explained Sam’s character for the night.

“Rosalinda Calvillo Del Santos.” He said, showing you a picture of the girl. “Heiress to a huge cartel ring out of Mexico City.”

“Woah, she’s hot.” You nodded, slightly impressed. “And this dress… Seems like it perfectly matches her style.”

You motioned to the dress you wore. It was a tight, short black silk dress with a 4 inch slit up the right side that showed off your body beautifully. The chest of the dress hung perfectly to keep you covered but still catch attention. The straps were silver jewels in a halter style while additional pieces of thin black silk stretched across your back in a criss cross pattern. 

“She's also a bit sadistic.” Zemo added nonchalantly. “But I’m sure you’ll play that just fine.”

“Fun.” You nodded.

“She kinda does look like you.” Sam commented as he leaned over to see the picture while he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket.

“She can’t be that hot then.” Bucky said sarcastically.

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you pushed Barnes slightly. “You’re just used to girls in the 40’s and the whole modest look, huh?”

“Yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “You ever gonna retire the old man jokes?”

“Maybe, but you have to admit how good I look.” You countered.

“Not a chance, little lady.” He smiled and shot a wink your way as he opened the car door for you.

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, what a gentleman.” You said sarcastically, holding a hand to your chest. “I’m so flattered.” You patted his chest as you sat down, scooting to sit in the middle.

The car ride was quick, although the motorcycles that surrounded your vehicle put you on edge a bit. The cold feeling of Barnes’ vibranium arm pressing against your own arm was the only thing that managed to keep you from burning through the car.

“The bracelet needs to come off.” Zemo pointed out on your walk to the bar.

“Excuse me?” You answered quickly, your opposite hand moving quickly to defend the metal cuff.

“Rosalinda only wears gold. She’s never been seen with anything else.”

“But this bracelet is-“

“Hideous” Zemo cut in.

“No! It’s from my dad, jackass!” You argued and stopped your steps.

“Here, let me have it.” Barnes held his hand out, to which you simply took a step away from him. “Y/N, come on.”

“No, I- I can’t take it off.”

Barnes sighed slightly before sliding two fingers under the collar of his shirt to pull a small chain out. He reached behind his neck to unclasp it before offering it to you. “Put your bracelet on here. Nothing’s going to happen to it.” Barnes explained.

“What are…” You asked softly as you reached for the chain. Your fingers grazed the small metal shapes dangling at the end, turning them so you could read the inscriptions. “James Buchanan Barnes..” You read silently. “These are your tags.. Barnes, I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Y/N..” Sam tried gently. “It won’t be that long, I promise.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed reluctantly. You handed Barnes back his chain before reaching for your cuff. You put two fingers together above the metal cuff, focusing on separating it enough to slide your wrist out. Your eyes lingered on the band of lighter skin that was hidden by the cuff, proving to everyone around you that you never took it off. Once you freed your wrist, the cuff circled the fingers you used to open it. You glided it to hook over Barnes’ chain, connecting your fingers again to reconnect the metal. “Please don’t lose it.. It means everything to me.”

“Trust me.” He nodded as he reclasped his chain around his neck. He tucked the tags and your bracelet under his shirt and patted it lightly. You smiled gently in thanks before turning back to the door.

“Good. Now, escort her in.” Zemo instructed Bucky. Barnes held out an arm for you to take so you looped yours through his, making Zemo click his tongue at you. “Other side.”

“What difference does it make?” You asked in annoyance.

“The Del Santos family -especially Rosalinda- loves to show power.” He explained. “Having the Winter Soldier makes you powerful, but being on that side-“ He pointed to Barnes’ metal arm. “-shows it off… They also know how to barter for that power, if you know what I mean.” He gave you a pointed look and nodded towards Barnes, assuming you would understand what he meant. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but you understood.

“So treat him like a trophy?” You replied with a raised brow as you stepped around to switch sides. “Easy enough.”

“Oh god.” Barnes mumbled under his breath. “Don’t abuse this.”

“I think you’ll like being shown off a little.” You smirked slightly, keeping your head high as you followed Barnes’ lead into the building. “I’ll try not to go too far.”

Like flipping a switch, you fell into character once you stepped into the crowd and instantly made a statement.

“Listo para cumplir, Soldado de Invierno?” You said simply, keeping your head high and shoulders back as you followed Barnes through the crowd.

You heard the whispers, asking if that was really the Winter Soldier. You had to admit, it gave you a feeling of pride in your chest to see everyone look at you in awe. The respect in their eyes when they met yours was interesting. It was different from the respect you got as Y/N Stark. There was an underlying tone of fear in the looks as well.

Your small group stayed at the bar, Barnes kept his head on a swivel while you leaned your elbows on the bar top behind you. You lazily turned your head to check on Sam but saw the bartender slicing open a snake.

“Al menos no tengo que hacer nada que… asqueroso.” You said to Barnes before chuckling. He made a small sound of agreement, the tiniest hint of a smile toying with his features. “Vamos. Diviértete, soldado.”

“Mi misión es protegerte.” He replied in a flat, monotonous voice.

“Ay, díos.” You groaned, turning to face the bartender. “Señor? Bourbon, neat. Please.”

“Since when do you drink, Santos?” He nodded in amusement as he poured your drink.

“Well, it’s been a rough week.” You sighed, lifting the glass in thanks. “Put it on my friend’s tab.” You winked at Zemo before turning back to look at the busy crowd.

“You lot aren’t welcome here.” A bald man came up to Zemo.

“We have no business with the Power Broker.” Zemo started. “But if he insists…”

“He can come and talk to me.” You cut in, resting a hand on Barnes’ shoulder and sipping your drink. “Or bring Selby for a chat.” You shrugged.

“What do you know about the Power Broker?” Sam asked when the man was out of earshot.

“Here he is judge, jury, and executioner.” Zemo said quickly.

“We’ve got company.” You said into your drink. You set the cup down and cleared your throat. “Soldado de Invierno, hora de ir a trabajar.”

The man reached a hand for your shoulder but was instantly snatched by Barnes. You had to give it to him. He was a very convincing actor. It seemed easy for him to slip back into that person, to become the Winter Soldier. You knew it wasn’t really him, but the violent scene in front of you was hard to deny.

Sam saw it too. He looked to you in concern, hearing the same click of the guns that you did. You easily took the few steps to stand between him and Zemo.

“Don’t worry.” You said simply, maintaining the cocky smirk you wore as Barnes did his work. “He’s got this.. But that’s not what that look is about, is it?” You glanced at Sam and saw the expression on his face. It held concern for Barnes but also the flash of a memory when the Winter Soldier attacked you all after the UN bombing.

“You break character and this whole bar is against us.” You used your glass to cover your lips while you spoke. “I don't like this either but-

Before you finished your sentence, Barnes slammed a man on the bar top by his throat. You instantly slipped back into character to respond.

“Buen trabajo, querido soldado.” You giggled with a pat on his chest. He let the man go as the bartender told you Selby was ready. You swallowed the rest of your drink before putting the cup back on the bar.

“Vamos.” You nodded. Barnes held an arm out for you to take, which you quickly did. 

“You okay?” Sam asked Barnes quietly as you followed Zemo to Selby. A sharp nod was the only response Sam got.

You let Zemo talk to Selby since you had no idea who the woman was. You stayed towards the back of the room with Sam and Barnes, your arms still linked. The cold metal against your arm was the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames.

It was easy enough to be Rosalinda. Confident, powerful, demanding respect, beautiful and a little flirty. It mildly shocked you that you could play into her sadism. You didn’t know where you pulled that from. Maybe Nat taught you better than you thought. Outside of that, Rosalinda was close enough to a Stark that you didn’t feel like you were pretending too much. And lucky for you, you learned Spanish as a child. It was the people that knew her that worried you. One wrong mannerism, one wrong saying, and the whole thing was blown.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked after an attempted flirt with Sam. You caught Zemo’s signal, a silent attempt to tell you it was your turn. 

“I suppose it’s more my offer.” You spoke up.

“I didn’t know Calvillos travelled this far.” Selby smiled mischievously. 

“Well I heard you like to play hard ball.” You said with a sly smile. “Del Santos can play too. My offer is him. The Winter Soldier, el soldado de invierno.” You offered confidently, walking a small circle around Barnes. “And the words to control him, of course.”

You traced your fingers along his shoulders, across his back and down his metal arm. You felt him tense under your touch, but his demeanor never faltered. “He will do anything you want.” You added, facing Barnes and gently running your hands down his arms. “I’m sorry.” You whispered honestly. Your expression reset to a playful pride as you spun to take your original place beside Barnes and watched for Selby’s reaction.

“This is a fun surprise. I’m glad I didn’t kill you all immediately.” She said happily.

“You have information I want.” You stepped in front of Barnes, blocking him from her line of sight. “You give me everything I need and I give you him.”

She bit her lower lip as she smiled. Her eyes looked Barnes up and down, and it made you want to gag.

“Hello? Are we going to do business or are you going to ogle him all night?” You asked in annoyance as you crossed your arms.

“A bit testy tonight.” She said with an entertained smirk and your pulse jumped. “You were right to come to me.” She said with a nod. “The serum is here, in Madripoor. You’re gonna want to talk to Dr. Wilfred Nagel. Power Broker had him work on it but it didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still here?”

“Crumbs for free but the bakery will cost you.” She wagged a finger at you. “And before you get cute, you can’t find Nagel with me.”

Before either you or Zemo could offer a rebuttal, Sam’s phone went off. You felt in your bones that it wasn’t going to work out well if he answered that call.

As Sam was on the phone, which Selby made him answer on speaker, she circled you and Barnes. You nodded towards Sam, allowing Barnes to take a few steps away from you.

Before you knew it, your cover was blown and the shot rang out. Selby was dead and the boys easily took down the other two guys in the room.

“This is going to come back to us.” You said as you stood on the other side of the room, as far from her body as you could be.

“Just drop the weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo said, trying to gain control of the situation.

Without other options, you all followed Zemo out and through the streets of Madripoor. Every turn you took, you felt more and more eyes upon you. Phones buzzed every second and you could only assume it was word spreading of Selby’s death.

“I don’t like this.” You muttered.

As soon as the words left your mouth, gun shots sounded. Barnes grabbed your hand and began running with you following close behind. You ducked the shots and grabbed Barnes’ hand a little tighter. You turned to see Sam struggling to keep up.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled.

“Try running in stilettos and a mini skirt.” You replied in annoyance.

“You want to stop them?” Barnes tried.

“I can’t really focus right now.�� You answered with an eye roll. You were going to stop and try lifting a rock wall behind you or creating a gust to push them back or even try to summon a quick lightning burst.

Shots came from a high window and took out the two men behind you before you tried to fight back. Zemo came out from behind a dumpster and made a stupid comment about a guardian angel.

“What a coward.” You sneered, Barnes holding you back when you made a move to slap the Baron.

“This is too perfect.” A familiar voice came from the shadows. You pulled away from Barnes and called a small flame to your palm. “Drop it, Zemo.”

“Sharon?” Barnes asked. 

“You cost me everything.” She ignored you guys. You didn’t let the fire go out. 

“Wait, Sharon.” Sam tried. “Someone recreated the super soldier serum. Zemo had a lead.”

“That explains why you guys are here and why Selby’s dead.”

“Why are you here?” You asked carefully.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She scoffed. “And I took the wings for your ass-“ She pointed her gun at Sam. “-so you could save his ass-“ Her gun pointed to Barnes. “-from his ass.” Her gun landed on Zemo. “I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m in Madripoor.”

Sam tried reasoning with Sharon but got nowhere.

“We need your help.” You tried and let the flame in your palm die out. “Please. We- We didn’t have any other options…”

With a heavy sigh, Sharon told you all to follow her. You were the first to follow her footsteps. After a second, the other three came behind you. You were questioning the timing of Sharon’s reveal, but overall you were grateful she showed up. Things weren’t looking great up until then.

“Seems like being on the run treated you better than it treated Sam.” You commented as you looked around at Sharon’s place. 

“If I was going to be a hustler, I was gonna live like one.” She said, a hint of pride in her tone.

The three boys then talked about the art, and whether it was real or fake. Sam didn’t believe them until a quick google search told him the truth. Sharon made you all change your clothes, pulling out a whole rack of clothes for the boys to look through and letting you sift through her closet.

You decided on a fitted maroon wrap-style dress. It was a soft material, fitting the curves of your body perfectly. The spaghetti straps criss-crossed behind your neck. You kept your same black heels and made your way back to the group and took a seat with Barnes on the couch.

Sam and Sharon talked a bit, ridiculing the idea of heroes. She called it hypocrisy, claiming that’s why Sam gave up the shield.

“Wow.” You teased as you sat. “You clean up nice, Barnes.”

He smiled slightly at you. “Hey, I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” He said simply.

“Huh?” His statement took you by surprise. It wasn’t the response you expected. “Right. Yeah, I learned it when I was a kid. Dad tried to teach me French but Spanish was more natural cause my mom's side of the family.”

“You look good too, by the way.” He added and gave you a slight nudge. “Cause I know that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your face.” He said simply. “You give away a lot of emotions in your face.”

“I do not!” You insisted quietly with a chuckle, smacking his arm.

“Yes, you do.” He laughed with a nod.

“Wait a second…” You paused, crossing your legs and leaning towards him. “Were you just nice to me?” You teased with a wide smile.

“Don’t push it.” He chuckled.

“Hey... I’m sorry about using you as bait with Selby. I figured that’s what Zemo was hinting at… It didn’t seem like there was any room for me to say no.” You said honesty. The look in his eyes when you dangled him in front of Selby, you could tell it brought back so much of his trauma. That inability to say ‘no’. You truly had felt wrong for doing it. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Y/N.” Barnes said and put a hand on your leg. Your words were cut off instantly. “It’s alright.. It was for the mission.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” You said softly. “You’re not just an asset or a trophy. You’re my friend.”

“How is the new Cap, by the way?” Sharon asked, drawing your attention.

“Don’t even get me started.” Barnes shook his head.

You dropped your head back to look at her over the back of the couch. “He thought he could bail me out of jail and we’d be best friends.”

“He really thought you needed bail money? ” She laughed as she came around to sit with you two. “And you. You were Mr. America before you were his pet psychopath.” She told Barnes. “Cap’s best friend.”

“She’s kind of awful now.” Barnes said to you.

“She was always kinda awful.” You mumbled while Sam refocused everyone.

“You guys shouldn’t be involved in this.” She said, as if she was warning you. “For your own safety.”

“We got a name.” You added, not leaving any room for discussion. Something about the way Sharon talked to you led you to hold suspicions. “Wilfred Nagel.”

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” She explained.

“I can get your name cleared, Sharon. But we need your help.” Sam tried.

“I don’t buy that.”

“They cleared the bionic staring machine and he killed almost everyone he met.”

“I heard that.” Barnes said, which drew a small laugh from you.

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon countered.

“Let’s call it a deal then.” Sam offered.

“Fine.” She shook Sam’s hand. “Lay low. Enjoy the party. And stay out of trouble.”

“I do like a good party.” You smiled as you stood. You held a hand out to Barnes, who groaned before pushing himself up.

He held an arm out to you but before you took it, you turned to face him straight on. You casually adjusted his suit jacket before your hands moved across his chest. Your hands went to his neck while he watched your hands carefully. You slid both pointer fingers under the collar of his shirt and he tensed slightly. You pulled his chain out and held it with one hand and used the other to release your bracelet. You fit the metal cuff back to its rightful place on your wrist with a proud smile. 

“Didn’t give anything away that time, did I, James?” You said quietly, shooting him a quick wink.

“Shall we?” You asked happily, turning to face Zemo and Sam.

Even though you had a point in being in Madripoor and it definitely wasn’t a party, you were excited for the party. It would be nice to relax, not feel any guilt over your father. Any grief over Nat. Any anger at John Walker. And stress about being an Avenger. You could just be a twenty one year old kid and have fun for the first time in what felt like ever.

You lost the boys in the crowd rather quickly. But it wasn’t a heavy thought in your mind to stay with them. What seemed to bounce around in your brain were your interactions with Barnes through the day. You couldn’t quite figure out if you were flirting with him intentionally or just habitually.

You brushed it off temporarily as your personality. You were a Stark after all. And Starks tend to flirt with anyone… Right?

Regardless, you weaved through the crowd and let yourself enjoy the party for a moment. You enjoyed the music, letting your body sway and spin with the vibrations. It was hard for you to tell where anyone was through the vibrations of the floor with the vibrations from the speakers, but you told yourself that wasn’t your problem. Barnes and Sam would be fine for a little while. You weren’t sure how long you had been dancing when you heard the boy beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” A boy said from your side.

Turning, you were met by a very beautiful boy. He was a bit taller than you, dark brown curly hair that fell messily across his forehead. You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, only that they were looking at you with admiration. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m just passing through.” You answered vaguely. Given your previous escapades through Madripoor, you wanted to be as discreet as you could until you were able to leave.

“You come with anyone?”

“Just a few friends..”

“No boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?” You repeated with a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Girlfriend?” He tried.

“No.” You laughed slightly. “I’ve been out of the dating game for a few years, actually.” You snapped your fingers to show what you meant.

“You’re too pretty to be at a party alone.” He shamelessly flirted.

“Well I’m not alone.” You corrected. “This is actually a friend’s party.”

“Your friends with the Power Broker?”

Before you could voice a response, a hand found your arm. You quickly looked over and saw Barnes at your side, only his eyes weren’t on you. They were on the new guy.

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?” The boy said nervously.

“Come on, Sarge.” You chuckled, noticing the staring and tense shoulders resembled jealousy. But for Barnes, distrust and suspicion was a more likely reaction. “It was nice to meet you.” You told the kid before pushing Barnes to move.

You couldn’t help but wonder… If the party was the Power Broker’s, but Sharon was hosting like it was her party.. Could Sharon be the Power Broker? Or closer involved than she led you to believe at least?

The next morning, you were all walking through an old shipping yard. Sharon was smart enough to grab you a more practical outfit, a skinny fit pair of black pants and a fitted light blue long sleeve and better shoes. You followed Sharon’s lead to crate. While she stayed for lookout, your group of four went in.

You knocked with one hand and felt the vibrations change at the end. You nodded towards the back of the container so Zemo went to take a look and exposed a secret door.

Sam and Barnes went in first, you behind them, and Zemo behind you. The guys tried to get you to take a gun but you adamantly refused, telling them you were a terrible shot and you had weapons of your own. Sam tried talking to Nagel, but he tried to run instead. Instantly, Nagel froze when he saw Barnes.

“You know who he is, right?” You chuckled, something intimidating dancing in your words. It was something you normally didn’t hear in your voice. You usually weren’t the intimidating type but things were different…You were different. “There’s Baron Zemo and me… Well, you’ll see.”

“How about a counter proposal?” Nagel tried. You ignored Sharon’s warnings in your ear. “Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”

“Your life isn’t enough?” Your brows raised as you challenged him. You nodded slightly before raising your hand. Your fingers lazily pointed straight up as you grabbed hold of Nagel’s blood. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, do you?”

“Maybe she’s the intimidating one.” Zemo said, an odd respect in his voice.

You forced Nagel to his knees while Sam kept his gun pointed at him. “I can manipulate air too… I wonder if I could pull it from your lungs since you refuse to talk.”

“Okay, okay!” Nagel broke and told you the whole story after you released him. You were getting good at your new blood trick, and that mildly worried you but you had to push it to the back of your mind. Parts of his story included Siberia, an American who you could only assume was Isaiah Bradley, the Snap, and the Power Broker.

You caught the name Donya Madani, committing it to memory. If she was someone Karli wanted to help, she was someone that could lead you to her.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Barnes asked. When Nagel didn’t answer, he pressed the gun to the man’s temple.

“No!” He said quickly. “But would she-“ He gestured to you. “-be incredible with it.”

“Thanks, but that’s a question I don’t need answered.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall behind you.

“The pure power you hold..” He continued and let out a devious chuckle. “You’re not at all curious?”

“I’m not the kind of person who deserves it.. Trust me. There’s probably as much blood on my hands as his.” You nodded to Barnes. “Just different motives.”

“Aren’t you tired of depending on them to help you? To save you?”

“I know my value. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”

The rest happened too fast to process in that moment. Sharon burst in. Zemo shot Nagel and that drew an interesting reaction from Sharon. And an explosion went off. Barnes had pulled you out of the way before you could get caught up in the blast. 

Your head spun mildly from the quick movement and your ears rang violently. You tried to shake it off but that seemed to only make it worse. You felt a warm stream down the side of your head and realized a loose piece of shrapnel had sliced your forehead.

“You alright?” Barnes asked, helping you to your feet. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded, mildly disoriented. Looking around, you saw the smoke gathering in the room. You put a hand above your head, using it to keep the smoke at the top of the room.

“Ah shit.” He muttered, pushing the loose hair out of your face. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hand away. “We gotta go. These chemicals are going to go off any second and I doubt I can save us from that.”

You got Sharon to her feet while Barnes got Sam. Sam asked about Zemo, but that was the least of your concerns. You four had to get out of there before you were trapped.

You tried using your powers to move the shipping containers or pull a piece of the wall apart but it was too heavy to do in such a hectic environment. There was too much going on for you to really focus. Once you were out, the boys started arguing about whose fault it was. 

“Not the time!” You shouted at them, your back against one of the fallen containers. “We’re blocked in and you three are out of bullets. So either I can try to handle this or we stay here and get caught. Either way, you need to zip it so one of us can come up with something.”

“Just use your pow-“ Barnes tried.

“I can’t do anything when you’re this loud!” You snapped. “Besides, the containers are too heavy. I’m not strong enough.”

You thought out loud to yourself. “I could try a concrete wall but I don’t know how long I can hold it if I’m worried about getting shot.” You chewed your lower lip in contemplation. “I’m too far to try the blood thing… They’re firing too many bullets for me to redirect back… What if I…”

It was so much easier when you had your dad to talk things out with. When you had someone smarter than you and could see a different angle, who could run the numbers and tell you your best chance, everything was so much easier.

“How are you going to handle it then?” Sharon challenged with an eye roll.

“You really don’t know a thing about me, do you?” You laughed in disbelief.

Before she could offer a rebuttal, there was another explosion. A smirk found its way to your face as you got an idea. You quickly hopped the barricade your group was stuck behind, despite the protests from Barnes and Sam. You slid under a hanging metal beam and popped up by the explosion. You shaped the flames away from you four and pushed it towards the people shooting at you. You used what was left as a wall to give you cover for you to get away.

“That’s how I’m going to handle it.” You said with your trademark Stark pride as you met back up with the group.

“You could've got yourself killed.” Sam reprimanded as you four had to duck into a separate container after a gunshot nicked your shoulder. Barnes launched a metal pole through one of the shooters’ shoulders like a javelin before shutting the door behind him.

“Okay.” You groaned, lighting a flame on two fingers. “That could've got me killed.” You ran the flame gingerly along the graze in an attempt to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

“You’re an idiot.” Barnes grumbled.

“Who just saved your ass, huh?” You challenged as he opened the door when the shooting stopped.

“When are you gonna realize you’re not indestructible?”

“When are you gonna realize who you’re talking to?”

The heavy roar of an engine drew your attention and interrupted the sudden tension. The tension and attitude dissipated as soon as it came but you could tell it wasn’t going to be the last time that grievance was brought up.

“Supercharged.” Zemo said proudly as he pulled up in a sleek black car.

You let out a low whistle and nodded in approval. “She is a beaut.” You commented with an amused laugh. “Would it be wrong if I kept her after this?”

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told him. “And you-“ He told you. “-aren’t keeping the car.”

“You’re no fun... Shut up and get in then.” You rolled your eyes. As Barnes climbed into the front seat, you went to the driver’s side - as if proving a point that you didn’t want to sit behind Barnes - and hopped over and into the backseat. “We still need him.”

Sam got in on the other side and after a quick conversation with Sharon, you were ready to go.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked.

“No.” Barnes said simply. You rolled your eyes at his childish antics. You leaned forward and tugged his sleeve to get his attention.

“Move your seat up.” You insisted.

“I’m not gonna move my seat.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t move his seat for me so I’m not-“

“Solo tienes que mover el maldito asiento, Barnes.”

“No me voy a mover“

“Venga, muévete.”

“Por qué debería?“

“Cállate y mueve el maldito asiento. Hmm?” You patted his chest before leaning back. Barnes scoffed, but slid forward slightly.

“Okay…” Sam started, leaning closer to you to speak quietly. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m fluent in Spanish.” You shrugged as you leaned to the middle and spoke in the same hushed tone. “Dad taught me when I was eight-ish. I use it for fun or when I’m trying to prove a point, hence the conversation you just saw. Why?”

“Not that… That.” He gestured to you with one hand and to Barnes with the other. “You guys have been flirting since-“

“Nope.” You shook your head and sat back again. “I’m not talking about that.”

“But you were! Why else would he listen to you?”

“What are you guys talking about back there?” Barnes tried.

“It’s above your pay grade, Barnes.” You answered without thought. “Anyways, Sam.” You turned back to Sam. “I’m a Stark. If there was any flirting, it’s harmless. Starks flirt with everyone.” You shrugged innocently.

“Mhmm.” Sam said unconvinced. “If you guys end up together and-“

“If we end up together I’ll be just as shocked as you.” You laughed. “But it’s not gonna happen. I’m pretty sure he hates me, deep down. You saw how he snapped at me a few minutes ago.”

“So just right now and the other day before Walker showed up, right? That’s what you’re basing this on?” Sam asked, gesturing a small circle in reference to the current scenario. You pressed your lips together in a line while you nodded. “But didn’t he make sure you didn’t make it worse after you got arrested?”

“Sure but-“

“Before we ran into Sharon, he reached for you, right?”

“Okay but wait-“

“And he pulled you out of the way of that blast?”

“I see what you’re saying but-“

“And he only seems to get mad at you when you get yourself hurt!”

“It’s coincidental!” You reasoned quickly with your hands up in surrender. “If he’s gonna like anyone, I highly doubt it’s gonna be me. Wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me.” Sam laughed.

“Cause I push every button I can with him.” You explained. “I annoy him and I talk shit to him and I don’t listen to him. I purposefully see what I can get away with. I’m his annoying roommate/best friend.”

“Right… Because that gimmick never leads to anything…” He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Whatever you say, Mini Stark.” He chuckled.

On the flight back, Sam and Barnes sat opposite each other while they talked. You opted to lay on the ground between them after healing your shoulder and other small scrapes, wanting something flat to let your back relax. As soon as you laid down, you felt your spine pop and practically reposition itself.

Your mind wandered back to the same thoughts it kept coming back to, with the newest additions to your messy brain. Your dad, and if you were doing right by him. Steve, and if you lived up to his expectations. Nat, and how she’d be proud to see you utilizing the skills she taught you. The boy at the party, his unintentional implications of Sharon and the Power Broker. And Barnes… Sam’s suggestion that you were purposefully flirting with Barnes had made you rethink your last interactions with him.

There were comments slipped in here or there, sure. You had played a bit when you took your bracelet back, sure. But were you flirting? Did you.. Did you have a crush on Barnes? No, no it was all in good fun. You didn’t really know him. Why would you flirt with someone you didn’t know? Right?

“Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.” Sam said, which instantly caught your attention.

“That shield represents a lot of things to a lot of people, including me.” Barnes said quickly.

“Yeah, me too.” You agreed from the floor. “My grandfather made that shield… It holds a special place in my heart, kinda the only physical thing from Howard...”

“The world is upside down and needs a new Cap.” Barnes started.

“And it’s not gonna be Walker.” You added.

“Before you destroy it, I’m going to take it from him myself.” He finished.

“Count me in, Barnes.” You said, sitting up when Zemo came down the aisle. You moved to sit by the side of Barnes’ chair and looked up at him. “In it together?” You asked, holding up a fist.

“Together.” He smiled slightly as he gave you the fist bump you waited for.

“Thanks, by the way.” You added softly as Zemo muttered something. “For keeping this safe-“ You shook your wrist. “-and for getting me out the way of that blast. I could’ve died but you didn’t let me.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you die, Y/N.” He nodded. “You trust me yet?”

“Hmm, getting there.” You pondered playfully. “You’re making good progress, but it depends on if you’re still mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You yelled at me..” You realized how silly it was once you said it.

“You could've gotten hurt or even killed and I- I can’t have your blood on my hands too..”

“I know I’m not invincible…” You admitted heavily as you looked between Sam and Barnes. You knew Sam worried about you too, but he and Barnes had different ways of showing it. “I know I’m not Iron Man, but… But that’s the way I’ve always fought. It’s how I learned to fight. One time Steve told us ‘If you get hurt, hurt them back. And if you die, walk it off’.”

“Of course he did.” Barnes chuckled as Sam smiled fondly. 

“It’s what I've always followed. So yeah, I’m a little reckless but I can heal myself so I never worried… But I guess I can try to be more strategic if it would make you guys feel better.” You offered with a small smile.

It was nice to know you had people watching your back, two people by your side that would seemingly burn down the world if it took you. You felt safer than you had with anyone since your dad.

“Why do you call him Barnes?” Zemo asked suddenly. “I thought you were all friends.”

“Wait. Does it bother you?” You wondered honestly, looking to Barnes.

“No, just a little different.” He answered with a small shrug.

“Dad always called him Barnes. Not James, or even Bucky. Guess I picked it up from him. I never really thought about it, in all honesty.” You shrugged. 

“Yes, but that’s very business.” Zemo continued. “It’s so impersonal. If you two have a good relationship like you claim, or the type of relationship you two display… Shouldn’t you call him something more intimate?”

Using your powers, you plucked one of the ice cubes out of Zemo’s drink and flicked it towards his forehead. It smacked the center and left a wet square on his skin before plopping back in the cup. You smiled in amusement and looked to Barnes, who also enjoyed your little trick.

“Mind your business.” You chuckled, leaning your back against Barnes’ seat. You tilted your head back against the seat too, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh.

“Hey.” Barnes tapped a finger against your forehead. “Don’t sleep on the floor.”

“Stark?” Sam laughed from the other side of the aisle. “Get up, kid. There’s an open seat right here.”

“With the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep on the floor of my dad’s lab or in a desk chair leaning on a lab table or even on the lab table.” You laughed while you stayed in your spot. “This doesn’t bother me.”

“Get your ass up.” Barnes tried again.

“Too late!” You announced, dropping to the ground. “Good night.”

You woke up when you all landed. Even though you had napped on the floor, you didn’t wake feeling stiff or uncomfortable. You followed the boys out of the jet and through the Latvian streets.

It was a beautiful country, as many European countries were. Cobblestone streets that carried vibrations perfectly. Intricate stone buildings that were tall but not towering. Simple painted doors to break monotony.

“I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?” Zemo asked, referencing the memorial for Sokovia.

“I did..” You said softly, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

“Did you?” Zemo was honestly surprised.

“After my dad’s funeral, when I moved out… There was a gap between leaving and moving in with Barnes. I didn’t know where else to go or who I was without Tony Stark. So I went to the memorial… It didn’t make anything clearer but it reminded me of a lot.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” Zemo said. You swore you heard sympathy playing in his voice. “He had his flaws but he was a good man.”

“Yeah, thanks, you and the rest of the world are sorry.” You said, somewhat bitterly. “He was the only permanent family I had. No one cared about me like he did.” You felt Sam and Barnes shoot you a look of confusion but you didn’t acknowledge it.

“What about the Avengers?”

“Yeah, they were great.” You shrugged slightly. “It just wasn’t quite the same. I was the most important thing to him, you know? Whenever I was feeling off, he was always there with something fun to distract me. Granted, that something fun was usually a new piece of tech he wanted to test, but it always worked to cheer me up. The world misses and mourns Iron Man, the CEO of Stark Industries and Earth’s best defender. No one other than me mourns my dad.” You explained as you noticed a change in Barnes’ demeanor.

“I’m gonna go for a walk.” He announced.

“You good?” Sam tried.

“Yeah. See you in a bit.” He nodded before taking off.

You lingered outside while Zemo went in. Sam turned in the doorway when he realized you hadn’t moved.

“Little Stark?” Sam asked. “You coming?”

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” You commented, pointing in the direction Barnes went. 

“Yeah but he’s weird.” Sam chuckled. “You know that…. Oh! I see what this is.”

“It’s not that.” You shook your head with an annoyed sigh.

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“Seriously? He’s our friend.”

“You don’t see me chasing after him.” Sam shrugged. “He’s a grown man, Y/N. If he wants to brood and take a walk, let him.”

“You didn’t see it.. Something caught his attention and made him leave.”

“Well I don’t just stare at him so no, I didn’t see anything.”

“Nat taught me to constantly watch my surroundings. To keep my head on a swivel… He saw something I didn’t, but I saw him see it. I just don’t know what exactly he saw.”

“Just come inside.” He sighed. “You can interrogate him when he comes back.”

“ Or I just go check on him… Cause I’m grown too and don’t have to listen to you.” You said carefully, hurrying after Barnes. You heard protests from Sam but none made you turn.

You made it to the alley where Barnes turned. You knelt at the corner, feeling the ground and knocking your knuckles against the stone. You closed your eyes to focus, picturing Barnes and an incoming familiar figure. With an amused smile, you turned the corner.

“Ayo.” You said happily. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“You followed me.” Barnes said, moderately annoyed.

“You made it easy enough.” You muttered before turning to the Dora.

“What brings you to Latvia?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Y/N.” She greeted respectfully. “I’m here for Zemo.” 

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 2: Birthday Boy

…in which Harry gets the birthday surprise he didn’t ask for.

Word count: 4.7k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Thank you for all the love for Harry and Ezi after chapter 1. Please let me know what you think about each chapter so I can be motivated to write faster 😆

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“Humans are so funny. You make up false stories about us and refuse to believe anything that isn’t the same as your imagination,” the siren said.

Harry tossed his head back and laughed. He held out a finger at her. “No, mermaids aren’t supposed to exist. You’re not supposed to exist.”

The siren narrowed her sharp gaze, and Harry quickly moved back a bit in fear of her grabbing his leg and pulling him into the water. To his surprise, she said, “And who are you to decide that? A useless human with a useless tail–”

“Okay, enough with the tail joke.”

“–can’t even survive the drowning deep. You don’t want to believe we exist, so you won’t have to carry the guilt of trashing our homes and murdering our kind.”

Baffled, Harry worked his jaw while silently cursing himself for never taking part in those debate classes back in school. Well, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that one day he would have to debate with a deadly siren in a cave on his goddamn birthday!

He shut his eyes and sucked in a breath. “Look, lady. I’m only one small human, with a bigger than average human tail, FYI.” The siren eyed at his crotch in disbelief, so he quickly crossed his legs. “But that’s beside the point! What I was trying to say was that, if you’re seeking revenge, I can’t satisfy you because I’m not responsible for trashing the ocean or shit like that. I’m a singer, alright? And I don’t even live here. I’m from London. A land far away. If you wanna murder a human, I suggest looking for Elon Musk.”

The siren stared at him like he was the mythical creature. “I’m not familiar with all the names you mentioned,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, which had been a big distraction for him. Good to know that he could still get horny while facing death.

“Don’t you guys have fish Wikipedia?” he asked, and she tilted her head, looking rather confused. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that you should know all the facts about humans. That sounded like discrimination against sirens.”

For the first time since Harry met this siren, she actually smiled at him. “You have a lot of funny words, you strange creature,” she said, her eyebrows knitted in fascination.

“You know what?” Harry exhaled sharply. “Since you’re my kidnapper, I’m gonna stop arguing with you in case you still wanna kill me. But today is my birthday, so I can’t be kidnapped. I haven’t posted a thank you message on Twitter yet, and I might get cancelled for that. Celebrities get cancelled for literally anything nowadays. It’s annoying.” The siren blinked at him, her pink lips slightly parted. “Right,” he breathed. “You don’t have a Twitter account.”

“You said you were a singer.”

“That’s all you got from my long speech?”

“What is it? Singer.”

Harry bit his dry lip and frustratedly combed his fingers through his damp hair. “I sing. Use my voice to entertain other people.”

“Oh, like sirens.”

“I guess.”

“Except that we use our voice to kill people.”

“What?”

“Sing for me,” said the siren despite Harry’s horrified look. She seemed excited as she rested her folded arms on a boulder and gazed up at him with a twinkle in her crystal clear blue eyes. “Let’s hear it. I didn’t know humans could sing. Let’s see if it’s good.”

“Fine.” Harry blew out his cheeks and cleared his throat.

He began to sing.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise–”

“What’s a rainbow paradise?” the siren asked, but he didn’t stop singing to answer her.

“–brown skin and lemon over ice.”

“Why are you singing nonsense words?”

Once again, he ignored her, this time, closing his eyes. “I get so lost inside your eyes. Don’t you believe it? You don’t have to say you love me.”

“Love,” the siren repeated the word as if she had never heard of it in her whole life.

Harry opened his eyes and found that she was looking at him as if she could see right through him. He went on, “You don’t have to say you’re mine. Oh honey, I-i-i-i walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you.”

“Why would you walk through fire for someone?” the siren wondered out loud as she stared off into the distance, her strong brows knitted. “That's stupid. Fire is hot. I saw the humans on the boats use it one night. I almost burned my fingers trying to touch it.”

“Yeah, don’t play with fire.”

“Then why would you walk through it?”

The siren pouted, and Harry caught himself smiling at her naivety. “It’s supposed to mean that you’d do anything for the person you love. Even risking your life.”

“That’s stupid,” the siren repeated her earlier remark. For a second, Harry saw a curious little girl and not a dangerous sea creature from earlier.

“Well, it’s just a song,” Harry told her. “I personally wouldn’t do that for anyone, either, but some people do love with all they have, and would sacrifice everything for the one they love.”

An angry frown had replaced the siren’s previous perplexed expression. “Some humans murder the ones they claim to love,” she said in a cold voice. Harry felt a chill running down his spine, but then the siren went on with a softened expression. “Sirens are not supposed to love. Love is a weakness for my kind.”

Harry nodded. “Bet you don’t even have a heart.”

The siren cocked her head; a corner of her mouth raised subtly. “Every living and breathing thing has a heart. Sometimes it’s valuable. Sometimes it's not.”

“Only valuable if it’s the heart that you want,” replied Harry.

For a long moment, the siren looked into his eyes as if she was trying to read his thoughts. Could she do that? Read his thoughts?

Beads of sweat were trickling down his back as his heart began to race; he could hear it in his ears. Suddenly, the siren was pulled beneath the water. Harry stiffened at once. The ocean was still for a moment, then two sparkling tails burst through the surface. Harry’s jaw fell slack with a soundless scream when he saw another siren sinking her fangs into the first one's neck.

The other siren had bright red hair and a silver tail. There were visible scars all across her pale, lanky arms, and he couldn’t see her face. Legs too stiff to run and hide, he stood on the edge and watched in absolute terror. The scene in front of him was madness as the sirens screeched, their tails flapping, creating violent waves as they sank their claws and teeth into each other’s flesh. Harry could see blood. The first siren was not as strong as the one that was attacking her. He must save her. Maybe a part of him knew that she wasn’t entirely evil. Maybe because she was the only hope for him to get home. Either way, he couldn’t just stand by and watch her die.

Before Harry could even think of a way, a bony hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him into the sea.

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Harry’s dreams were thick with blood and haunted by the siren’s face. He’d been in the dark water, drowning, and the last thing he’d seen was her sapphire eyes glowing with the sunlight above as she’d stretched out her arm to grab him before he sank deeper. He woke up gasping, still feeling the saltiness of the ocean on his tongue and the pressure of water on his lungs.

He found himself lying on his bed, fully naked under the covers. Had he been dreaming?

Kneading his temple to chase away the headache, Harry scanned his sore eyes around the room and screamed when he saw her sitting in the corner. Naked. He looked away as soon as he caught her ocean blue eyes staring back.

The siren was in his room. And she had legs!

“You’re alive!” she exclaimed.

He heard her standing up but couldn’t bring himself to look. She sat down on the edge of his bed, smelling like the ocean. Not the fishy kind of smell; one that was unique, and Harry liked it even though he shouldn’t.

“This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream,” he mumbled to himself while clutching the duvet to his chest.

The siren, now a human girl, let out a sigh. “It’s not. This is real. I’m real.”

“You’re not.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re...naked.”

Even though Harry wasn’t looking, he could feel her questioning gaze pinning on him. He grabbed the covers and shoved them at her. “Cover yourself.”

“Oh...okay.” The siren did as she was told as Harry quickly placed a pillow on his private part. He finally looked at her, and she smiled while covering her upper body and the area between her legs with the duvet.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Better. Okay, why are you here?”

The siren’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember?”

Harry shook his head.

“We were talking when my sister attacked me, then dragged you into the water. You were lucky I saved you twice and brought you back to where I’d found you. This is the only palace on this beach, so I assumed it was yours.”

Harry sat and stared her face, trying to detect a lie but failed.

The siren rolled her eyes. She seemed disappointed as she swept her long black hair over her shoulder, exposing the huge bite mark on her long pale neck. The skin had healed, and the blood had dried, but the area was still bruised. Harry fought the urge to touch it. There was no way this was really happening.

The siren shot a glance at his ankle. And that was when Harry noticed the red claw mark around it. He shivered at the flashbacks of a siren with red hair and a silver tail charging straight at him with her mouth wide open, her sharp teeth ready to tear off his flesh.

“Sorry about my sister. She could be very...deadly,” the siren in front of him said, looking remorseful.

Harry eyed her up and down once again. Finally, he broke his silence, “What happened to your tail?”

The siren refused to look him in the eye as she said, “My mother found out that I saved you, a human, so she cursed me.”

“Cursed you?”

The siren said nothing; the corners of her mouth lowered as she stared down sadly at her legs.

What kind of The Little Mermaid plot is this? Harry thought to himself, yet didn’t say it because it shouldn’t be a joke. She’d lost her tail, which meant she couldn’t go back to the ocean. Ariel from The Little Mermaid had wished to become a human. This girl had been cursed with the life she never wanted just to save him twice.

Harry buried his face into his palms. “Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“It is your fault.”

His head whipped up at her honest response. “You always say what you think, don’t you?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Harry sighed and ran his palm over his face. “Never mind. How...how do I get you back to your mermaid form?”

“Siren.”

“Sorry, siren. How do I help turn you back?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly, clutching the duvet to her chest. “But I need a place to stay until I figure it out.”

Harry thought for a moment and nodded. “I’ll pay for your hotel room.”

“What’s a hotel?” the siren asked, her eyes round. “And why can’t I stay here in your palace? It’s big and you live alone.”

“This is a house, not a palace,” Harry said. “But I’m going back to London tomorrow, and I can’t take you with me.”

“Where is London? I want to see London.”

Seeing her so excited made Harry laugh. “No, you don’t; trust me. It’s not sunny there. Always dark and gloomy and raining.”

“It’s not sunny underwater, either.”

Harry held up a finger and kept his mouth open for a moment as he pondered over what she’d said. “Good point. But I’m still not taking you to London. That’s not a good idea.”

The siren’s eyebrows drew together. “It was your fault I’m in this situation.”

Harry gasped. “You’re so manipulative!”

“I don’t know what it means.”

“It means you say things like that to get me to feel sorry for you, and so I have to help you.”

“Oh, then, yeah, I’m manipulative,” the siren said. “Take me to London with you, or I’ll find you in London and make your life hell.”

Harry tossed his head back and groaned. As if he hadn’t been traumatised enough by all the events that had happened today, now he had to take responsibility for the life of a mythical creature. If he had been a bad guy, he would have just let the government have her and keep her in a lab like that Oscar-winning movie about the dead girl and her fish lover. But Harry wasn’t a villain. Sure, he could be an asshole, but he couldn’t betray someone who’d risked her life to save his. Twice.

Maybe if he’d just say yes and then leave quickly in the morning, he wouldn’t have to deal with her. He’d ask someone to take care of her, pay for a place for her to stay and her food. Her mother would have to take her back eventually. He didn’t know about sirens, but even in the animal kingdom, mothers never abandoned their children.

“Fine, I’ll take you to London,” he said. Seeing the smile on her face, he was lowkey thankful that he was so good at lying. “First, you have to put some clothes on. Wait here.”

Carefully, he slipped out of bed, holding a pillow in front of his crotch and one behind him to cover his butt, then padded awkwardly to his closet to change and get her something to wear. When he returned, she was still sitting on his bed, humming a familiar song and kicking her feet as if testing out her new body parts. He found it endearing, but of course, he wouldn’t tell her.

He handed her a bathrobe. “Put this on. I’ll find some real clothes for you later.”

The siren accepted the bathrobe and stared at it as if she’d been told to put it in her mouth and chew. She glanced up at him. “I don’t understand the purpose of this.”

“To cover up your private parts.”

Suddenly, she seemed sad. “I think I’m broken.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

She looked at him again, pouting. “I don’t have a tail.”

“I can see that.”

“No, I mean, a tail like yours.”

When Harry realised what she meant, his face burned, and he cleared his throat into his fist. “You’re not supposed to,” he said awkwardly. “You’re...a female. I bet male sirens don’t look the same as you, right?”

“There’s no male sirens,” she told him.

Harry cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes. “Huh? Then how do you guys...you know?”

She blinked innocently at him. She didn’t know.

“Mate.” The word made Harry cringe. “How do you mate?”

“Sirens mate with mermen. We only need them for children.”

“Okay, that’s...new…”

Harry would be glad to find out more, but this was definitely not the right time. He waved his hand, urging her to hurry up. Clumsily, the siren got to her feet. Harry didn’t intend to stay here while she changed, but since she could barely keep her balance, she had to hold onto his arms. He stood there, staring at the ceiling as the duvet dropped. She was completely naked in front of him now and so dangerously close. The voice inside his head was telling him not to peek. Fuck. Why did she have to be sexy?

“Do you...um...do you need help?” he asked as she seemed to be struggling with the bathrobe.

“No, thanks. I got it!” she said between ragged breaths, then, “Hey your tail is growing!”

Harry’s eyes dropped to the front of his boxers, his face heating at the sight of his erection. He gently pushed her back onto the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” she shouted after him. “I need to see it in its full form!”

“This is its full form!”

“It’s still small.”

“Shut up! It’s not!”

.

.

.

Ezili felt bad for lying to this human.

Well, lying was the whole point of her mission, but he had been so nice to her when he found out she couldn’t return to the ocean. She blamed her new human heart for these emotions. Siren Ezili would never feel sorry for this ugly creature. No, wait, this one wasn’t ugly. The mermen were ugly. As much as she despised humans, she must admit that most of them were beautiful.

When this human wasn’t looking, Ezili would regard him with as much curiosity as he had regarded her in secret. The way his brown curls swept back messily. His defined jawlines. The deep dimples in his cheeks. The look of wonder in his eyes. He looked about her age, but his eyes were innocent, greener than seaweed.

She looked away as he caught her gawking. They were sitting at a small table on the floor. The room was darkly lit by the light in the corner. On the table was a mushy pile with little fire sticks on top.

“What is this?” Ezili asked, inspecting the object.

The human smiled at her, the firelight dancing in his leaf-green eyes as he said, “It’s a cake. We’re celebrating my birthday.”

“You told me not to play with fire.”

“We’re gonna put it out anyway.” He winked at her. “A little fire won’t hurt.” Ezili watched the human take out a little black thing and flick his thumb. Fire flared out, making Ezili flinch. “Relax,” he chuckled and the fire vanished. “This is called a lighter. It makes fire. This is a cake. These are candles.”

“What do we do with the cake?”

“We eat it.”

“You eat fire?”

The human laughed at Ezili’s distressed look. “No, silly. We blow out the candles, then eat the cake.”

“Oh,” she said, making him laugh harder. She found it disrespectful and annoying. Was this creature making fun of her? “What’s so funny?” she asked through gritted teeth.

The human stopped laughing, yet his dimples were still visible. “I can’t believe I’m celebrating my twenty-fourth with a siren,” he said.

“Who do you usually celebrate with?” Ezili asked.

“My friends or family,” the human said. “My friends were supposed to be here but their flight got cancelled due to bad weather.” The sadness in his eyes disappeared as he gave a dismissive wave and laughed. “Oh well, it’s not bad being alone. In fact, I’ve been alone my whole life.”

“That’s sad,” Ezili murmured, mesmerized by the candles.

“It’s not,” replied the human. “Some people live their whole life surrounded by others, and yet, they’re still lonely.”

As he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, smiled, and blew out the candles, Ezili sat there and pondered over his last words.

They didn’t eat the cake right away, because the humans said they ought to eat it after dinner. Apparently, humans ate three main meals a day—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sirens ate when they were hungry, so this was very new to Ezili. She picked up the small shiny thing that shaped like her mother’s trident and pushed around the foods on her plate. “What is this?”

“Fish,” the human said with a smile.

“Dead?”

“You expect me to eat alive fish?”

Ezili scowled at him. “That’s what we eat.”

“You’re human now. Try cooked fish.”

When she didn’t do anything but stare at the plate, the human nudged her hand with his knuckles. “Come on. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you the raw fish in the fridge.”

Ezili doubted that this imbecile creature would poison her with these colourful foods to get away with his responsibility, but at the same time, nothing was impossible.

However, she would probably faint if she didn’t eat. This dinner actually smelled good, and her stomach was rumbling because she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. And so she stabbed the fish’s burned flesh with her little trident, closed her eyes and put it into her mouth. It was soft, salty and a bit spicy, and...surprisingly delicious. She quickly took another bite, and another, and another.

“Wow, you’re really hungry, huh?” The human chuckled. “You like it?”

Ezili nodded fast, unable to answer because her mouth was full.

The human seemed satisfied. “Good. Means I’m a great cook.”

Ezili chewed fast and swallowed as the human began to eat. She tried to copy the way he held the little trident and the knife, and felt like she’d changed. Her mother would hate her so much for enjoying this. And Koa would make sure everyone in their kingdom knew and turn her into a laughing stock.

“Do you have any questions for me?” she said, breaking the silence, mostly to distract herself from thinking about the mission and her family.

The human thought for a second. “Hmmm, I have a bunch so I don’t know where to start.” Then, after a pause, “Why did your mum do this to you? Doesn’t she love you?”

Ezili wished she could stab him for bringing up the topic she’d been trying to avoid. Instead, she sucked in a breath. “She does. It’s just...the way sirens show love is different from humans. We teach our children to be strong from the moment they are born. Sirens live dependent on one another to survive, and so we always have to look out for one another. I guess that’s love for us. My mother is the Sea Queen. She’s very powerful, and so she has high hopes for my sister and I. My sister is better than me, though. I’ve always envied her.”

“Your sister is scary as hell,” the human remarked. “But if your mum is the Queen, you must be a princess.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, so does that make me Prince Eric?”

“Your name is Eric?”

“No,” the human chuckled. “It’s a reference from The Little Mermaid. You should watch that film. You’d probably hate it though. Anyway, it’s so weird that we don’t know each other’s name. I’m Harry.” The human, well, Harry, put his hand across the table. Ezili didn’t know what to do with it so she just stared.

“I’m Ezili.”

Harry smiled, picked up her right hand and shook it. His hand was bigger than her and warm. She liked it.

“Cool name. Can I call you Ezi?”

Ezili instantly pulled her hand back. “No, you filthy creature. That’s not my name!”

“Ezi is short for Ezili.”

“What?”

Harry ignored the look of confusion she was giving him. “Or I could call you Bubbles. That’s a cute nickname.”

“Why Bubbles?”

“Because…” He tossed his head back and groaned. “Damn, woman, you gotta read the story, too. I can’t make these jokes if you don’t get the references.”

Ezili had so many questions. Just as she was about to ask, the black thing on the table lit up and started playing a song that startled Ezili.

“Sorry. My mum’s calling,” Harry said as he picked up the thing and swiped his fingers across it. “Right on time.”

“Is your mother trapped in that thing?” Ezili asked, clutching the hem of the shirt Harry had told her to wear. It was too big on her but she loved that it was comfortable and kept her warm.

“No, this is a phone,” Harry said, shaking the magical device with light coming out of it. “So my mum’s in London, and when she calls me on the phone, her voice gets transferred through it, and I can hear what she says.” He pushed himself up and told Ezili, “I’ll be right back.”

Once Harry was gone, Ezili sat there and tried her best to process all the new information. It was only her first night on land and she was already going through it. This mission was harder than she thought. Still, she had no choice but to continue. She must have that heart, and her mother would be so proud.

.

.

.

When Harry woke up this time, he was on his private jet.

“Hey.”

He screamed, causing Ezi to fall back into her seat in front of him. He whipped his head around and saw that they were the only two people in this cabin. Before he could even come up with a question, Ezi got up, her hand resting on either side of his seat as she leaned forward, until her face was so close to his that he could smell the vanilla scent of the cake in her breath.

Her eyes sharpened at once. “I know you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No...I didn’t.”

“You did, Harry. You were going to leave me at your beach house. I heard you talking on the phone last night with someone else after talking to your mum. You mentioned a hotel room.”

Harry had booked a room for her on the phone last night. He should have done it on the website.

“But guess what?” A corner of her mouth lifted. “I might not have the ability to control tides anymore, but I still have my voice. And so I can control humans with it. I sang you to sleep last night. Then when your servants came to take you to this metal bird, I made him carry you to the magic black carriage and I came here with you. You think you’re one step ahead, you’re wrong. Try that again. I dare you.”

Harry swallowed hard. He could feel his palms sweating as he rubbed them against his thighs. “Okay, I’m sorry for that,” he said.  “But you can’t control people like that. If someone found out what you’re capable of...what you are...you’d be in big trouble.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow as she slowly backed away and stood straight with her arms across her chest. Thank God, Harry’s mother called just in time. He immediately got up and excused himself to answer the phone. He left a pouty Ezili in the cabin and went to the exit to talk to his mother.

“My precious boy, are you on the plane right now?”

“Yes, Mum,” Harry sighed.

“Good. I just need the name of your date for the seat arrangement.”

Harry stiffened for a second then quickly glanced over his shoulder to check if Ezi was eavesdropping. Fortunately, she was distracted by a magazine.

“Like now?” he asked his mum.

“Yes. Last night you told me you found one.”

Yes, Harry remembered that part, but he’d only said that so his mum would stop pestering him.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did.”

“Her name?”

He hesitated before saying, “Ezili Hans.”

Hans as in Hans Christian Andersen. The writer of The Little Mermaid. If he had the energy to be happy, he’d give himself a pat on the back for the creativity.

“Great,” his mother said, sounding as if he’d just told her he was getting married. “I’m so excited to meet this girl.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I-I said ‘Well, of course’,” Harry said and covered it up with a nervous laugh.

When he got off the phone with his mum, he felt a light tap on the shoulder and turned around to see Ezi. Shit, had she listened to–

“I promise I won’t use my singing voice to control you again,” she said, to his surprise. "Please. I cannot survive on my own." She twisted the hem of his band-tee uneasily. Even though she looked super cute in his t-shirt and joggers, she was still too underdressed for someone that was travelling on a private jet.

“Fine. You can stay,” he heard himself say while trying to imagine her with actual clothes that fit her.

Ezi’s blue eyes lit up, and the smile that rarely showed up on her face caught Harry off guard. He almost forgot what was happening.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “But we need to set up some rules.”

[thetriggeredhappy]

(I love all of your writings) one of Scout's voice lines literally broke my heart. The one in the Birthday mode which said that no one came to his birthday :"((( the fact that he called everyone his best friends make it sadder. Can you write about that a little bit. I know that you have written about his birthday before but can you do one more pleaseeeeeee

birthday boy time

(warnings for alcohol mention, mention of violence, and injury)

-

“Happy birthday, lad,” Demo greeted, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. Scout lit up, calling back a greeting in return.

Call him a sap, but he hadn’t quite given up on having fun birthdays yet. He’d heard it a hundred times from most of the rest of the team, that you stop focusing so much on your birthday when you get older, but not this guy. Scout was determined to actually have a nice birthday.

That being said, he knew by then, after those first few years working with the team, that they had a bit of a history of not necessarily being 100% on board with doing a whole thing purely because someone was a year older, and he mostly settled for bugging some of the team into going out for drinks or ordering a bunch of pizza and playing board games, stuff like that. A hundred times more low-key than what he’d do if they were in Boston, but hey, he took what he could get, and it usually ruled anyways.

To be honest, he didn’t even really have plans that year. He’d said as much when he was asked earlier that week. It was the middle of the week, not all that close to the weekend, so going out with everyone was pretty much off the table, as was getting drunk considering they all had work the day after. He was gonna head into town and get himself a gift, that was most of his plan, maybe hang out with everyone later on too. He’d been saving his money for a while, a just-in-case fund that he’d been working on for a few years, a luxury he didn’t have growing up, and didn’t tend to spend much money on himself outside of snack food and Bonk and sometimes comic books or little things like that. It would be nice to get himself something he really liked. That alone was plenty of excitement. Not an adrenaline kind, just a regular, nice sort of thing.

Overall, he was honestly just thrilled that apparently everyone actually remembered this year, greeted all morning by similar casual “hey, happy birthday”s, including a particularly excited one from Pyro, who hugged him and spun him in a few circles outright. He had plenty of time next year to do some really sick birthday stuff, but overall, he was just gonna chill out, treat himself for once, and relax.

-

“Alright everyone,” the Engineer said grimly, half an hour previously, casting a look around the room. “Here’s the plan.”

The team minus their fastest member were all gathered around the debriefing table, and this time, rather than Miss Pauling with official orders or Soldier with the latest new strategy, it was the Engineer standing up front holding a piece of chalk.

“We’ve been over this, Toymaker, twice weekly all month,” Demo drawled, rolling his eye.

“I know that, but this is important,” he stressed.

“It is true,” Heavy rumbled, nodding solemnly. “This is big deal.”

“We can’t afford to let this one get mucked up considering our history,” the Engineer said firmly. “Every year it’s somethin’. This year we aren’t taking any chances, especially after that catastrophe last year.”

A groan from the team as they collectively remembered. A nod from the Engineer.

“We’re lucky Firebug was the one to ask why Scout was in the kitchen combing the cabinets and not one of us, otherwise he would’ve found out for sure. If he knew we all forgot his birthday, it would crush him,” he said emphatically. The team looked embarrassed as a whole, while Pyro looked particularly mortified. “And we can’t just buy the damn kid a few pizzas and hand him alcohol like that was the plan again this year.”

“Fortunately for all of you, I’ve been so generous as to look into a few things,” Spy piped in, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette.

“As if you won’t take any excuse to snoop,” Sniper mumbled, and was glared at.

“I resent that remark,” Spy scoffed. “Regardless. I happen to know that we’re in luck, and that Scout is planning to go into town for a short period of time this afternoon. For what purpose, I’m not sure. But it should mean we have plenty of time to set everything up.”

“I trust you all have gifts ready?” Medic asked, and received a general murmur of agreement, and made a check on the paper he had attached to a clipboard. “Ja, ja, that is good. Herr Demoman, Pyro, you are done with your baking?”

“Cake is baked, iced, and decorated,” Demo nodded, Pyro giving a thumbs up of agreement.

“Soldier, how are decorations?”

“Acquired and prepared for deployment!” Soldier barked, holding up a hand in salute.

“Doc, Heavy, you two were meant to run interference,” the Engineer said, and the two nodded. “With that not a worry, how about you help with the cooking and decorating?”

“Heavy can do this,” Heavy agreed, and Medic nodded as well, jotting down a few notes on his clipboard.

“And the snake was gonna help with anything that went wrong, and Sniper, you were gonna help with headed into town for anything we needed last minute,” the Engineer said, and received nods from the two of them.

“Do we need anything so far?” Sniper asked.

“No, we’re fine for now. And I’ve got my own setup handled,” the Engineer said, and nodded a few times to himself. “Alright. Sounds like we’re golden.”

“Ja, very good. Herr Spy, would you keep an eye on Scout and let the rest of us know when we can begin getting ready?” Medic asked.

“Obviously,” Spy said.

“Alright. Now go on, get, he’ll be wondering why we’re all running late, act natural,” the Engineer said, shooing them all from the conference room.

-

Later that day after battle was over, Spy dispersed news not long later that Scout had gotten changed into civvie clothes and gone into town on his bike, and they all leapt into action. Within half an hour, the decorations were ready, streamers and balloons in every direction, the table unfolded from their storage (only used when they needed to seat the entire team, which wasn’t often) and was set up with the cake, ready to have candles lit, the presents were stacked neatly, the Engineer had set up the new sound system he’d been working on (put into crunch time to have ready for the occasion), everything was set up and perfect. The only thing they still needed was Scout.

They settled in to wait, knowing town was a good twenty minutes away, thirty if he was headed to the better one. By the time he found everyone, Spy said that it had been about ten minutes, and they took around thirty to set everything up, meaning that Scout would probably be at least another ten minutes, maybe as much as half an hour. Spy would keep his eyes open and warn them when he came back, but in the meantime, they could relax while they waited.

In the meantime, Soldier and Demo attempted a few ‘finishing touches’ (putting party hats on his more docile raccoons and setting out some firecrackers and sparklers, respectively), and some of the other members of the team sat to play cards for a bit. Pyro, easily the most antsy, burned their way through the box of matches that sat waiting next to the cake one by one and started idly playing with their lighter when they ran out, occasionally lighting some of the extra candles.

Half an hour came and went. Forty minutes. Fifty. An hour.

They asked Spy if he had any word yet. The answer was no, and the visual of a few cigarette butts littered around Spy’s feet and a scowl.

The Engineer played a few song requests on the sound system. Soldier switched around party hats on the raccoons to better suit their personalities. Demo lit a sparkler and let it burn out. They switched card games.

At the two hour mark, the concern was starting to build in all of them. Maybe Scout went even further than any of them had expected. He hadn’t told any of them to wait up for him, to be fair. But he always told them outright if he wouldn’t be back for supper, and he hadn’t said anything, and should’ve been back by then. It was getting well into sundown.

“I am preparing to declare Scout as officially AWOL,” Soldier mumbled somewhere near the two/and-a-half hour mark, just a bit angrily, adjusting the party hat on Corporal Munch where it was crooked. Demo patted him on the shoulder to console him.

“He’ll get here when he gets here,” he assured, going back to fiddling with a party popper.

“Don’t waste those,” the Engineer warned. “And no queens, Go Fish.”

A groan from Medic. Demo shrugged. “We have some extra. Here, just to liven her up.”

He tugged the string on the popper, setting it off and sending a short shower of confetti onto Soldier, and that was where it all went wrong.

Corporal Munch, startled, made a little yelp-like noise and quickly clawed up Soldier’s chest, startled and attempting to escape. Soldier tried to grab on harder, but that just made the raccoon even more alarmed, and it rushed to clamor faster, digging claws in hard. Heads turned in time to see Soldier losing his grip and the animal rushing away towards the nearest enclosed, dim space, which just so happened to be the table Pyro was sitting at with the cake.

Pyro leapt up from their seat, battle instincts kicking in for a moment, and the movement startled the Corporal, who veered suddenly and crashed directly into one of the chairs, toppling it and the one directly next to it and making the entire table jerk.

Pyro, panicked, quickly grabbed the cake stand before it could fall over, dropping their lighter and the candle in their hand. The two things landed on the tablecloth, and by the time Pyro realized their mistake, they’d already lit the thin paper tablecloth on fire.

Shouting around the room as teammates attempted to leap into action, Pyro trying to save the cake from the fire first and foremost, Soldier attempting to catch the Corporal, who was only becoming more freaked out over time. Heavy moved to snatch up some of the other flammable items off of the table, but misjudged where Pyro was moving, and Pyro collided with him, the cake tumbling from the stand and directly across the both of them. The Corporal, entirely confused on the commotion, attempted to claw into the space under the cards table, making Medic yelp as his legs were torn into, Sniper rushing to try and catch the animal as well. Demo, having found the fire extinguisher, realized he was a bit late as he tried to put out the table, most of the tablecloth gone and the fire having spread across the streamers, and he tried to put out what he could, and it was only with the Engineer’s cry of dismay that he remembered, oh, right, those streamers were on top of that shiny new sound system, weren’t they. With a final puff, the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign went up in flames and was gone, and the team was left there in the wreckage.

Spy rounded the corner into the room, eyebrows furrowed from the commotion he’d heard. When he saw the smoking, foamy, cake-y remains, all he could do was sigh, kneading at the bridge of his nose. “Something new every year, is it?” he drawled.

-

It took them the better part of forty minutes to clean up the mess, and even then, the room had a weird smell to it. By the end of everything, all they had was one of the undecorated practice cakes Pyro had baked, some party hats, and some poppers. And by the time they were done cleaning up, Scout still hadn’t returned.

“At least he doesn’t have to see what a damn mess we made of things,” the Engineer sighed, and that seemed to be the consensus.

It was much later that Spy finally let them know that he’d seen the headlights of a motorcycle coming up the road, and the team just sighed, too tired to work up much energy. Some of them at least planned to call out a ‘happy birthday’ at him, but all they could do was stare when he walked into the room.

“Hey, guys,” Scout croaked, attempting a smile through a bruised lip.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sniper demanded, taking in the sight.

Scout was busted up in a number of different ways. What looked like a former bloody nose and a swollen lip seemed to be the worst of it, an amount of blood all down Scout’s front, staining what looked like one of his nicer civvie shirts beyond repair. There was also a dampness to his shirt and hair and a stain that implied he’d been splashed with something, practically drenched by the look of it, and he carried himself just slightly off-balance and held a bag in the arm not cradled to his abdomen.

Despite that, he managed a laugh, a lopsided grin. “Man, what the hell didn’t happen to me is more like it,” he said, shrugging. “Had a weird one.”

“Are you alright?” Medic demanded, already standing up, from his chair, and Scout shrugged again.

“Just bruises and all, it’s not an emergency or whatever, but I’d appreciate a heal or somethin’,” he admitted, and Medic left the room, hurrying towards the infirmary. “Forreal, though, what a fuckin’ night.”

“What’s on your shirt?” Spy asked, entirely deadpan, looking vaguely disgusted.

“Uh, I think it’s a margarita?” Scout said, glancing down at it and picking at his shirt vaguely. “I, uh, I should start from the top. Okay, so I went into town, right? I was just gonna buy some stuff real quick, and I got, uh… I got a little lost.”

“A little? Scooter, you’ve been gone all day!” the Engineer admonished.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. There was construction on the usual road, I think they’re fixin’ a bridge or somethin’. Anyways, I got pretty far off track, but I got to town eventually. Just took a while. Anyways, I do my shopping, but because I was all rattled from havin’ to take a hundred detours I totally forget that there’s this one guy at the store that hates my guts, and I’ve gotta split pretty fast before he knocks some teeth out, y’know?”

“Do we want to know why he hates you?” Demo asked, a bit of humor in his tone.

“Nope,” Scout said simply, grinning right back. “So, yeah, but on my way into town I saw at the bar they have some kinda thing goin’ on, right, some kinda weird drink special. So I figure, hey, I’ll walk in, get the new drink, then I’ll leave, y’know? I don’t wanna have to drive home after dark and drunk. So I order, and as soon as I order some guy who’s been at the bar too long already starts tryin’ to pick a fight with me, right? And it’s a whole thing, and I finally get my drink but now there’s a whole thing, and I kinda make this offhanded comment at this gal nearby, y’know, tryin’ to make sure he knows we’re in a public place, all ‘hey, you’re really gonna embarrass yourself by pick in’ fights right in front of this real pretty girl?’, right?”

“Oh no,” Sniper sighed, already seeing where this was going.

“Well, yeah, bad luck, turns out that’s his girlfriend, and he shoves me into some guy, and I get a whole drink all over me, and mine is all over some third gut, and this whole brawl breaks out—anyways, busted lip and no drink and I’m probably not allowed in that bar anymore, but whatever, I finally start headed home.”

“Right,” Spy said, suspicious.

“And, uh, I never wanna drive at night because there’s all these animals out here, right? And the roads are shitty. And I’m headed back, and it’s dark as dicks, and I think I see this rock and I try and go around it, but then the rock moves back in my way because it’s a lizard or whatever and I hit the breaks and swerve straight into a pothole and just barely manage to keep on my bike, but I donk myself on the handlebars and totally throw my leg out of wack and all that. And, uh, and now I’m here.”

“Christ alive,” the Engineer marvelled.

“Bad day to have,” Heavy said, also stunned.

“Hey, it’ll be a funny story to tell later,” Scout shrugged, still grinning. “Got those new shoes at least, though.”

He pulled a shoebox out of the paper bag, and the box was dented into some kind of new parallelogram, barely resembling its past shape. Scout, meanwhile, was still smiling.

Silence in the room. “Well. While it is unlikely you need any more excitement today,” Spy trailed hesitantly. Pyro, understanding the cue, leapt up and hurried off into the kitchen, coming back with the cake.

“Woah, seriously?” Scout asked, eyes lighting up. “You made me a cake? Mumbles, you’re the best!”

“We, uh… we had more planned, but, some things went a little wrong,” the Engineer admitted, and trailed off as well as he looked at Scout.

“Not that we get to complain,” Demo laughed, seeming to come to the same realization as the Engineer.

“Are you joking? This rules!” Scout said, and lit up further when Medic returned with his Medigun, shaking off his injuries within a few moments. “Hey, thanks guys, seriously, no idea what I did to get such cool teammates. You guys are awesome, I mean it.”

“Dunno how we got a bloke like you, either,” Sniper shrugged, voice quiet compared to the rest of them. “Not many people can laugh after a day like yours and still have the energy to be pleased with anyone.”

“Aw, hey, I mean… y’know, it’s nothing,” Scout shrugged sheepishly, glancing away for a second. “Hey, you guys are playin’ cards? Deal me in! Oh yeah, hold on, we need plates and stuff for cake—“

He dropped his bag near the door and hurried into the kitchen. The room was quiet behind him. Demo held up a party popper, glancing around the room. The Engineer took it from him, shaking his head.

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

The Wolf & The Hound

Chapter 4: Blessed Name Day

Summary: Ever since your conversation with Sansa, Sandor has disappeared. Was she right?

Notes: First update on the new blog!

The next two weeks were so crazy preparing for Sansa’s coronation that you barely noticed that Sandor wasn’t around as much as before. It crossed your mind as you lied down in bed at the end of the night, but you were so exhausted from the day that you fell asleep before your mind could begin to panic. 

But it was felt, on a subconscious level. Your protective shadow was not there and it left you cold. Maybe Sansa was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t you that he wanted to court, but he told Sansa that to hide his true motives. 

The morning of the ceremony, you were up long before dawn and dressed so you could race to Sansa’s room to help her. As Brienne was the only woman of the Queen’s Guard she met you at the door and entered a step behind.

“Good morning, my lady. Are you ready to begin your day?” You curtsied shortly after you entered the room, Sansa standing next to the window to look out over the courtyard. 

“Good morning, ___. Yes, please. We have a long day ahead of us. Ser Brienne? While ____ tends to me, can you please have the kitchen bring up breakfast for all of us?”

“Yes, my lady,” Brienne bowed and left the room.

While Brienne was gone, you went to work filling Sansa’s bath with hot water, bathing and dressing her, and finally brushing her hair as Brienne returned with a member of the kitchen staff carrying a huge tray of food. Sansa wanted to wear her hair unbound as she wanted all the attention on her new crown and gown. So you gently curled the ends.

You then helped her dress in her dark grey dress that had many representations of the North. From the red leaves of the Weirwood Trees to a sleeve made of crow feathers to the metallic bodice that was a mirror of Weirwood branches. One sleeved looked like fish scales to represent her mother while the collar looked like a dire wolf for her father. She was beautiful.

If she was nervous, Sansa never let on. Holding her head high as you busied yourself getting her ready for the ceremony. You then stepped back so Brienne could escort her to the Great Hall. Normally, you would follow Sansa everywhere, but you wanted to quickly get her room ready so it was more fit for a queen.

You raced to change the sheets on the bed, clean her bathroom, douse the fire and clean out the ashes before creating a fresh fire. The floors were swept and cleaned and windows opened to air out the room. The last thing you did was dash down to the kitchen to make a small bundle of cinnamon and rosemary and ran back to place it in the fireplace to burn, so her room would smell welcoming when she returned.

Then you went to your room to bathe and change into clean clothes before you raced to the Great Hall. The room was packed with representatives of the remaining Northern Houses, her brother, Bran Stark, as well as Sansa’s uncle, Edmure Tulley from Riverrun, and Robin Arryn of the Eyrie. You tucked yourself into a back corner where you could easily see the dais. The normal high table had been removed and replaced with a new Throne of the North, with dire wolves on each end on the back. 

Sansa entered the room and was trailed behind by her new Queen’s Guard. You hadn’t had a chance to admire the new armor this morning. The current five members wore black armor with a grey dire wolf head on the chest plate and grey capes trailing behind them. Sandor looked amazing in the new armor. He had even trimmed his beard to appear less scruffy for his new queen. And like the other guards, he kept his eyes ahead as he escorted Sansa to her new throne.

Once there, the maester placed the new crown upon her head as he announced the new Queen of the North. It was a simple band, molded to look like the Stark pattern with two dire wolves meeting at the front. 

The moment the crown touched her head, the North chanted: “The Queen of the North!”

You could not be more proud of the young woman you had helped raise. She looked every bit the queen that she had planned to be when she was a little girl and promised to that monster, Joffrey.

That night, all of Winterfell filled with loud voices, music, and the distant howling of wolves as everyone celebrated their new queen. You took a moment here and there to drink a glass of ale or wine, but mostly you tried to busy yourself so you wouldn’t focus on the fact that Sandor and Sansa were talking once again.

Yes, Sansa told you that Sandor really wanted you. But seeing them together made it so hard to believe those words. Especially when Sandor had yet to confirm them.

So that night you went to bed early to save your heart.

The next morning you were up early again and off to Sansa’s room, where you got a surprise from Arya in the hall.

“And where are you going?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “To Queen’s Sansa’s room? I have to get her grace ready for the day.”

“Absolutely not! We know you’ve been lying to the staff about when your name day is, but you forgot we grew up with you. You have today off while the feast is prepared. Now head back to your room, a bath is being drawn and food is being brought up.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “But Ser, I’m just a handmaid.”

Arya wouldn’t hear it. “You kept by my sister’s side, especially in King’s Landing when I couldn’t. You are family. Now go.”

Confused, but slowly growing happy at the sisters’ insistence of taking care of you, you went back to your room to enjoy a quiet morning. A brand new dress was awaiting you on the bed, no doubt a gift from Sansa and you couldn’t wait to change into it. You took your time, enjoying the warm bath, the good food, and then sitting in front of the fireplace in your room in a towel as you gently dried your hair, using your fingers to break up any tangles. 

After you finally put on the new dress, you left your room to walk the grounds. Fresh snow had fallen during the night and your footsteps were muted as you made your way to the Gods’ Wood. For once, Bran was not parked in front of the giant weirwood tree and so you took a seat at the stone by the trunk. 

You were quietly praying to the Old Gods when a deep voice interrupted your thoughts. 

“Forgive me, Little Wolf. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at his voice. A voice you had not heard in weeks. Raising your head, a small smile graced your face as you answered. “No. I was merely speaking with the Old Gods. Thanking them for another year and for watching over me so I was able to return home safely.”

Sandor frowned at your words and you wondered what his relationship with religion was. He was from the South, but he never seemed the type to visit the Great Sept while in King’s Landing. 

“You believe in all that?” He slowly approached you.

“I don’t know,” you looked down at your hands as he stopped at your feet. “I did when I was a child, but much of that changed when I traveled South. But I know I cannot turn my back on them completely.”

“And why is that?” Sandor questioned.

“I believe they kept me alive. No one taught me to fight like Arya, no one taught me how to scheme my way to safety like Queen Sansa, and no one was by my side to fight for me. And yet, I not only survived King’s Landing but getting home as well.”

Sandor crouched until he was in your line of sight. Snow was drifting down from the deep red weirwood leaves, dotting hit hair and beard giving him a soft look to his tough face. 

“I believe you are not giving yourself enough credit, Little Wolf. I saw with my own eyes how you can take down a man when cornered.”

Your face grew warm at his praise. “Thank you. But I hope to never have to do that again.”

He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “You won’t. Not while I’m here.”

“You promise?”

A small smile graced his lips. “I promise, Little Wolf. I will never leave your side until you command it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “That’s unrealistic. You’re Sansa’s guard.”

“Aye, I am. But you are her handmaid and where she is, you are. I will protect both of you.”

“Thank you, Sandor. That means a great deal to me.”

“Does it?” Doubt crept into his eyes. “Most might be scared off by the idea of my following them around.”

“Aye. There was a time you frightened me as well. But that was before I truly got to know you.” You held a hand up to stop him from interrupting. “Now, that is not to say I don’t know your past. I am well aware of you who were. But any fool can clearly see you are no longer the man who left King’s Landing during the battle against Stannis.”

“I’ve tried. After my fight with Brienne, I was saved by a Septon. He taught me a few things. And before you comment - I can see your curiosity - he was once like me. So he would be the only religious fucker I’d listen to.”

You gave a small laugh. “Yes, that makes sense.”

His face grew serious. “There is something I’ve wanted to speak with you about. Something that has been on my mind for a while. But with the coronation, I haven’t had the time.”

“Well, you’re here now and I have the whole day to myself.”

“Aye, I know. Sansa told me where I could find you.” He ran a hand over his beard, trying to find his next words. “Little Wolf, I know who I am. I’ve done horrible things, things no one should be proud of. I’m no knight and I’m not a rich man. But I’m trying to change so I don’t- so I won’t be someone so frightening. You are a beautiful, quick-witted woman who can survive, even if she may not believe so. Any man would be lucky to court you.”

You took a shaky breath as he forced himself to meet your eyes.

“Would you...allow me to court you?”

The God’s Wood became still at his words and you tried to comprehend what he had asked you. Did Sandor really ask to court you?

“You...want to court me?”

Sandor tried to hide his face falling, mistaking your words for a no. “I know that may not seem something I would do, but I wanted to do right by you and our queen.”

You reached over and took his hand. “Sandor, I would love to court you.”

While his face did not betray any emotions - as was standard for this stoic man - but he reached up with his other hand and cupped your cheek. You placed your free hand over his as you felt yourself smile. Sansa was right! He really did want to court you.

He shifted on his feet and leaned in, the question in his eyes. And the answer was on your lips as you leaned in the remainder of the way to close the gap. It was the first sign of affection Sandor had ever given and he felt no place was more appropriate for a Northern girl than under a weirwood tree. So you would know how serious he was about you.

His large hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head to hold you closer to him and you moved both of your hands around his neck. Sandor pulled away after a few moments and you could feel how warm your face was, despite winter flowing all around. 

“We should get you back inside, Little Wolf. The Queen will have the feast ready soon.”

“You’re right, we shouldn’t keep Her Grace waiting.”

He climbed to his feet and held out a hand to help you up. Then after tucking your hand into the crook of his arm, he lead you out of the God’s Wood and back to Winterfell. You could tell he felt a bit awkward at the formality of courting so you squeezed his arm.

“Sandor, I know you are worried about doing things right for me - for us - with our courting. But perhaps instead of doing what others would expect, we do what truly would work for us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you are trying to change yourself, but we both know you are not a romantic man. There will be no vase of Winter Roses awaiting me in my chamber. So instead, let us move forward as us. You will show your affection your own way. And I will do the same.”

You looked up at him and could see the smirk forming. “Aye, that sounds like that path may suit us better.”

Inside the Great Hall, many of the lords and ladies who had traveled for Sansa’s coronation were there and the feast was already set up. All that was missing was you.

Sansa looked up from talking to Arya, a smile growing on her face. “There you are! We were afraid we would have to begin without you two.”

Arya snorted. “Looks like the old shit got some words to share.”

Sandor growled. “No one asked you.”

Sansa smirked. “Are we celebrating two things today?”

Your face grew warm. “Yes, Your Grace. Sandor has asked to court me.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “About damn time. You haven’t kept your eyes off her since we found her in the woods.”

“Shut your mouth, you little shit.”

“Whatever. Let’s get the drinks going.”

“Good idea, Arya.” Sansa turned back to you. “If you wish to announce your courtship tonight, just say the word. Otherwise, the kitchen has made your favorite tonight. Blessed Name Day, ____.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Sansa stepped forward to give you a quick hug before she continued around the room to speak with the other lords. Sandor took this cue to lead you to a table where he poured you a glass of wine. Plates of food were brought over and Sandor took a seat across from you.

“So what will you do?”

A smile graced your face as you picked up your fork. “Tonight, I will just enjoy the food and wine. And perhaps, a few moments alone with you. Tomorrow, we can worry about expressing our news.”

“Moments alone?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“If you feel up for it later.”

“Anything for you, Little Wolf.”

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@marvelfansworld​

@that-chick212​

GoT

@harper-emory-writes​

The Wolf & The Hound

@imagine-the-fanfics​

@imagine-the-fanfics-main​

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy! 

Part 1 // Part 2 

[1 MONTH AFTER]

 The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too. 

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power. 

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over. 

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned. 

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,” 

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,” 

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed. 

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?” 

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,” 

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had. 

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment 

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

--

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone.  A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

--

did that make it worse? did that make it better? 

want to get tagged in the next part? let me know

tag list:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh​ @itsaisopodkillmepls​ @urbankaite2​ @whataloadofmalarkey​ @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus​ @sara-alonso​ @lesbianlena​ @xiao-lusi​ @all-good-things-have-an-ending​ 

[harryspet]

dimensions | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark peter x reader, historical au, royal au, prince Peter, mentions of noncon sex, physical abuse, spanking, alternate dimensions, fluff, hella angst, alternate peter is basically ramsay bolton

A/N: This is an angsty idea from an anon “Angst thought: Peter's got a girlfriend he super likes but she gets switched with an alternate dimension's version of her who alternate him was the worst to (like one of your dark Peter fics bad) and she's terrified of Peter now”. I decided to make this like a historical au but it can basically take place at anytime in history.

THIS CONTAINS TRIGGERING MATERIAL AND ADULT CONTENT

main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Wine dripped from his lips as Peter stared at you like a hungry wolf. What a beautiful prey you were. He was so lucky that he had decided not to kill you like the rest of your family. 

The kingdom you came from was made of sunlight. Sun dripped from the sun and kissed the skin of your people. You were a peaceful people. You had never seen war until you came to know Lord Parker. 

In Lord Parker’s part of the world, there was no sun at all. His fortress sat on a hill between a dark forest and a storm-ridden sea. His followers were loyal but this was because the family ruled with fear. They conquered and pillaged for power and your kingdom was just another line on his roster. 

You were nothing to him. Nothing except a toy. 

You scrambled backward, your back hitting the headboard of the bed you shared with him. Peter’s eyes trailed over the bare skin of your legs and up to the white nightgown you wore. He loved you in white, the contrast to your skin, and the innocence it represented. 

No matter how he tried to beat it out of you, that innocence was still there. 

Peter pulled the sheets all the way back and your body began to tremble, “My sweeting,” His words were kind but his intentions were anything but. He had his claws around your heart and you felt any wrong move would lead to him ripping it from your chest, “I recall informing you that you should refrain from speaking to my servants.”

Nothing. There were no words on your lips. 

Had Peter already diminished your fire? He thought he had mastered the art of pushing you all the way to the edge but not allowing you to fall over. 

The room was filled with grays and black, the only light in the room came from a few candles in the corner. You could hear the waves beating against the cliffs from outside the window. You let the cold hit your skin, allowing you to feel something other than sadness. 

Peter’s hands touched the mattress as his body leaned in closer, “You want to run from me, do you not?” You were frozen now. He cocked his head to the side, an evil grin decorating his handsome face, “That is why you asked your guard to help you escape. You thought he might take pity on you? Do you think the honey between your legs is that sweet? That any man would risk their lives just to taste it?”

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Why had you done that? You should’ve known not to trust anyone. Anyone including those with sweet, forgiving eyes. 

Peter sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the large mattress. You recalled the memories of the last few nights. On your wedding night, he had forced himself inside of you with a force you couldn’t bear. You still ached between your legs. 

“I do try to be good to you. I try to be a good husband but … it seems the Gods have cursed me with anger …and your behavior lights that flame inside of me. Is it so much to ask that you be honest with me? To tell me what I hear is not true?”

Nothing. Again, no words escaped your trembling lip. Peter was starting to grow annoyed. He liked it better when you were screaming. 

“Answer me!” He screamed, causing you to hit your head against the wood as you flinched back, “You dare run behind my back!” Peter pounced, unable to resist the sweet touch of your trembling flesh. You resisted, but that only made the member in his trousers grow even more excited. 

Peter dragged you by the curls in your hair, forcing you to scramble forward until you were positioned across his lap. 

“My lord, please! Please, don’t!”

Peter smiled wide as he held you down, his elbow pressing into your back. “There she is! I knew my sweet princess was a fighter,” He pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing your bare bottom. He could still see the evidence he left behind hours ago dripping down your thighs, “Continue to scream for me, my sweeting. I do enjoy your voice.”

You cried out, trying to wiggle from his grasp, as he landed several hard spanks to your bottom. You could feel it turning colors beneath his touch, the burning pain flowed through your body, “Please, please, I won’t do it again!” You begged, “I’ll be good!”

He didn’t stop until your bottom was raw and his own hand was bleeding. Tears streamed down your tired face, a complete look of defeat crossed your features, and ultimately satisfied Peter. 

“What is your name?”

You didn’t even remember anymore, “Nothing. N-No one. I am nothing but yours, My Lord.”

He dragged you from the bed though every step you took was like feeling fire against your skin. 

“No ones coming to save you!” Peter shouted as he dragged you out of the room, past your guards, and to the outside balcony that overlooked the entire fortress. Everyone was used to causing the scene with his cruelty so no one even batted an eyelash as you were pulled around like a ragdoll. 

He pressed you against the wooden railing, making you look out into the snow-covered court. The snow that was now soaked in blood. He was in pieces but you recognized him. It was the young guard you had talked to you. Stupidly, you asked him when the guards normally changed shifts in the compound. 

His legs were separated as well as each of his arms and then …. his head. His eyes were still open. “We cut off the head last,” As you closed your eyes, he pulled at your hair tightly, “He learned what happens when you try to steal my treasure. Treasure I bravely sought and retrieved on my own.”

It was all your fault. 

He was gone before Peter even stepped into that room. 

Your body was only protecting itself by shutting down and causing you to faint. Peter caught you as you fell into his arms.  

+

You awoke on a soft cloud. Everything smelt of sweet vanilla, even your hair. You touched your hair and found it longer and much softer than usual. Your eyes could barely adjust to the blinding light in the room. When were thing’s ever this bright on Lord Parker’s land?

Had he finally set the place ablaze with you trapped inside? The thought of it was delightful. You even considered closing your eyes again but, the room you were in, gave off an entirely different feeling than the fortress. 

You sat up in the bed and your mouth gaped as you took a look around. You stumbled as you stood up on the bed. The room was ginormous, even bigger than the over-sized bed. It reminded you of the great hall in the manor you grew up in … except it was a bedroom made of gold. 

You looked down at your body. This was not the white gown you were last wearing. There were no stains of blood or tears down the chest. There was also no burning on your skin, on your bottom or around your neck. 

You paused as the tall gold doors opened to the room. You stared as he entered, clad in a royal suit of blue, and wearing a smile. A smile? You had never seen him with a real smile, “Did you use to jump on the bed when you were younger?” He asked a tone you weren’t quite used to. It sounded pleasant, like there was happiness on his lips, “That was my favorite too.”

Had he slipped hallucinogens into your drink? Or was this just a nightmare of your own creation?

As he moved closer to the bed, you panicked, moving down to your knees, “M-My Lord,” You addressed him, your head tilted down. 

Peter paused, taking in your appearance, and his smile turned to concern, “Your Lord?” Peter asked softly, moving towards you. He reached for your hand and, although you didn’t pull away, he felt you shaking, “Y/N, what’s going on?”

You lifted your head, facing the demon, “W-Who is Y/N?” Peter searched your face for some symbol of amusement. He thought you might be pulling a prank on him but it was now clear that something was very wrong, “Where did you take me?”

Peter pulled away his hand, realizing he was only causing more unease, “I didn’t take you anywhere. This is my home. Our home. Should I call in the physician ...”

“We don’t live here …” You looked around the large room again.

“Y/N, do you promise me that this is not some sort of game?”

You shook your head quickly, “No games, My Lord.”

“My name is Peter. I am not your Lord …” Peter’s voice trailed off, his mind racing with concerned thoughts and confusion. Peter beckoned you with his hand, “Why don’t you come with me, Y/N? We will have a talk with May.”

A trick. This had to be some elaborate trick then. 

“I only talk to you, My Lord,” You assured him, “I won’t speak to anyone else, I promise.”

His eyes seemed to sadden. Sad? You’d only seen anger from him before, “Y/N, you can talk to other people. I am your husband but I do not control you. You have friends. You have a family.”

A sick joke then. You stared at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head, “You killed them. They were not worthy. You spared me despite my unworthiness.”

“I-I never-” Peter stopped himself, realizing that it was becoming useless to argue at the moment. You seemed to flinch at the slightest raise in his voice, “Walk with me, please?”

You were hesitant but you crawled from the bed, your bare feet touching the cool, marble floor. The fortress was grays and black. The fortress was soot and wood. This was a palace and the man before you were dressed like a prince. 

Peter noticed the distance you kept from it. Yesterday, you were madly in love with him. You held each other through every royal meeting and you spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. He remembered how nervous he was when Tony announced the plans for his marriage but, the moment he saw you, he realized his luck. He was even luckier that you felt the same. 

You glanced around the long hallways with tall white walls and ginormous windows that gave a view of the sun over a calm sea. 

“What city is this?”

As the name of the city left his lips, your heart stopped. It was the same city you were kidnapped and taken to but you saw no sign of the darkness that you remembered. Had the darkness all been a bad dream?

+

The woman named May attempted to explain everything to you. She noticed your uneasiness around Peter and kindly asked to have a moment alone with you. You were frightened to speak out of turn, for fear of Peter punishing you, but the woman encouraged you to talk to her. 

She knew all about the kingdom you hailed from, about your family and your peaceful people. They were all alive, Peter’s forces never led an attack against them. In fact, your father and King Tony arranged the marriage between you two. Peter was a Prince. The prince of a kingdom that did not wage war against innocents.

She checked your vitals, not noticing anything that was physically wrong with you. You didn’t even have the scars anymore.

Despite all of this, the thing that made everything sink in was seeing your family. Both your mother and older brother had not returned back to your kingdom, and you were able to embrace them after believing you had lost them forever. 

+

Peter wasn’t sure what to think of everything. So much had changed that he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same girl anymore. He didn’t want to be a villain to his own wife. He regretted that the bond that they now shared was indestructible. To divorce was a sin and they’d both be shamed by their countries. 

“I can find somewhere else to sleep tonight …” You looked up to Peter, seeing how he was trying to hide his sadness. Your chambermaids had prepared you for bed, bathed you, and put you into fresh nightclothes made of the softest silks. 

“It is your room,” You told him quickly, “I should not deprive you of the comfort … the comfort of sleeping next to your own wife.”

“I can tell you do not want me to, my love,” His words made your heart pang. Love. Did Peter love you? At least, did he love the old you? “I will allow you to have all the time that you need. I do not wish to be the source of your nightmares.”

Peter had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to change that fear she felt. 

“Please stay,” You told him as he made a move to leave, “I do not want to be alone.”

You had spent the entire day with your family, and now you just didn’t want to fall asleep in the silence. 

Peter thought for a moment, deciding his plan of action. You couldn’t help that your breath caught in your throat as he approached where you laid on the bed. He didn’t reach to touch you, only to grab a pillow. 

He laid it on the ground beside the massive bed and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the hard floor. You rolled over in the bed, looking over the edge at him, “The floor is no place for a prince, your grace.”

Peter instantly shook his head, “I do not know what you mean, my love. It feels great down here,” You could tell her was lying and a small grin pulled at your lips. He was willing to sleep on the floor just so you could be comfortable?

“Peter?”

Peter couldn’t help how his heart fluttered when you simply called him by his first name. He liked knowing before that you liked him as a person, not as an authority figure. 

“Yes, Y/N?”

“What kind of things did I use to like?”

Peter didn’t expect the question, but as the memories rushed, he couldn’t help but smile, “You loved your family. You always talked about them, about your people. You wanted everyone to know that you were a princess of two, great kingdoms, not just my own. You made sure they were never forgotten.”

You continued to listen as you pictured it. You hadn’t realized they were memories of your own. 

“You liked to garden. It reminds you of your time with your grandmother. You love the life you can create, the beauty you can make.”

A tear slipped down your face as you remembered the older woman. 

“You liked it when we went out on the boat and rode in the bay. You liked the sound of the ocean and the sun on the skin. You hated that we kept the fish we caught. You hated how they had to die and you insisted that we give them to beggars on the street.”

You realized that this wasn’t some past you that Peter was talking about. The girl he was talking about was still you. She just had a better chance at life. 

“You loved looking at the stars. You smiled for days when I showed you the telescope my father purchased from that French merchant, I swear it.”

“Peter, I-I am sorry,” Peter noticed you were crying and shot up from his spot, reaching to hold your hand, “You are nothing like him. You are nothing like him.”

“Do not cry, please,” Peter begged, rubbing soothing circles on your skin, “There is nothing to apologize for. Whatever this is, we will get through it.”

As his thumb brushed the tear from your cheek, you saw him clearly. You could look into those brown eyes and know he’d never hurt you. 

+

Hope you enjoyed! (Also sorry, please don’t ask for a second part)

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

You were starfished across your bed in nothing but your knickers when the knock sounded at your door. Rather than answer, you ignored it. It would be far too great an effort to get up, throw something on and answer the door. There was a few minutes pause and the knock came again.

“I’m not here,” you mumbled, not loud enough for anyone to hear, but loud enough that you felt justified not answering the door.

XxX

The mission had been exhausting. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out, little bit of reconnaissance at Hammer Industries, maybe a teensy bit of industrial espionage to ensure the drone project that Ivan Vanko had started had truly been ended.

Turns out the droids were now the building security, and the Avengers had to be called in to extract you after your capture. Hammer had used some sort of truth serum on you to try to get information out of you. You’d fought it as much as you could, trying to keep your answers glib and indirect as you could.

Right up until Natasha crashed through a window and you exploded into giggles.

“Not so tough now, are we, Justin?” You mocked him as he flinched away from the Black Widow. You were totally distracted by their exchange, watching in fascination until you felt hands working the bindings behind your back. Your head jerked around but you couldn’t see who was there. You struggled, thinking it was another flunky of Hammer’s until a smooth voice whispered in your ear.

“Settle the fuck down.” Your eyes widened and you stopped moving. “Thank you.”

When your hands came free, you pulled them in front of you, rubbing at your wrists before bending over to work the knots at your ankles free. You hazarded a glance back to where Natasha was beating the crap out of one of Hammer’s drones, twisting at the radio sensor head until it snapped off.

“Stop gawking, come on!” A hand on your arm pulled you toward the exit and you finally turned to see your would-be liberator. Hawkeye. Clint Barton. You felt your face warm in embarrassment. Natasha knew from your mutual years at SHIELD that you’d been harbouring a crush on him. Why she would have brought him along when she could have brought any of the other Avengers was beyond you. She should have brought Tony - you were on the Stark Industries payroll, after all.

He dragged you toward the window Natasha had smashed through and pulled an arrow. He loosed it toward the next building over, the arrow lodging in the roof. With a few quick movements, he’d attached some sort of line to the top of the window jamb and snapped his bow over the line between the buildings.

“Come on,” he gestured toward the window sill as he stepped into it. You looked at him blankly, fear flooding through you. You did not do heights well.

“Are you kidding?” You gasped. “I can’t just hop on like I’m on a vacation zip line tour and -“

“Come here,” he interrupted, holding his hand out to you. He pulled you gently onto the ledge, and pulled you into his side. “Me Tarzan, you Jane. You need to hold onto me though, so I can hold on to my bow.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and took a deep breath. His eyes met yours in amusement and he smirked a little. “Don’t puke on me.”

“Right. Uh, no promises.” You held a little tighter and screwed your eyes shut. The feeling of nothing under your feet took your breath away and you couldn’t even scream. Your wrapped your legs around him without hesitation, and heard him let out a little grunt as they locked around him.

As you came through the window, he let go of his bow and wrapped one of his beefy arms around you, rolling you so that he landed on the floor and you landed on him. You skidded to a stop that made you think he would wind up with carpet burn on his back. After what felt like forever, his grip on you loosened. It had probably only been a few seconds, given how your heart was still racing. Drawing in a full breath and holding it for a few seconds, you tried to convince yourself to let go of him, and failed.

“At some point, honey, you’re gonna have to let go.” His voice rumbled against the ear you had pressed to his chest. “And sooner than later because we still aren’t safe.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked up at him, suddenly realizing the intimate way you were holding him. You pushed free and rolled away onto the floor, gasping for breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you exclaimed, pushing yourself to your feet. He popped up beside you and shrugged.

“Gotta say, it feels a lot nicer when you climb on me than when Lucky does,” he replied. To your confused look he offered, “He’s my dog.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Well, thanks?”

“You probably don’t steal the last piece of pizza either,” he pondered. You laughed again.

“I might.”

He almost look wounded and then looked out the window to the building you’d leapt from. He grabbed your hand and led you away toward the staircase. You had to be at least fifteen stories up, and while you’d rather go down than up, you still weren’t excited by the prospect. As he started leading you down the stairs, you found your motivation to keep up in his very nice backside.

You made it to the street and he gestured to a beat up, old Dodge Challenger. You got in the passenger seat and gestured to the back.

“Want me to climb back?”

“That’s awfully forward. We aren’t even on a date,” he replied, his eyes wide.

“I meant so Nat has somewhere to sit,” you groaned. He flushed.

“Right. No, she’ll find her own way back. I was strictly along for the rescue and run part of the mission,” he answered, awkwardly. “Not that I wouldn’t climb back there with you. You know, if you wanted. Maybe not here though.”

“Uh, thanks?” It was your turn to feel awkward. “Where to then?”

“You’re way more forward than I thought,” he exclaimed. “I mean, any park that’s dimly lit, I guess?”

“No, I mean where are we headed as part of our escape plan.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the confusion. If it was possible, he blushed even more.

“Buckle up. We’re going to be driving for a bit,” he said. “Hungry? I could use a burger.”

“I could eat,” you agreed. You lapsed into silence as he drove out of the city and headed upstate. Finally, he pulled into a gas station and looked at you.

“Wait here. You’re a black coffee right?”

“Yeah, how’d you -“

“I can tell,” he interrupted as he stepped out of the car. As he stepped in to the gas station, his phone vibrated and a message popped up on the screen. You couldn’t help but see it in the dark of the car’s interior.

“Just mopping up here. Have a good night, Romeo. You owe me.”

Your mind spun a little at the message. It was from Natasha. Why was she calling him Romeo?

He flopped back into the car and handed you a coffee and a brownie. The adrenaline rush had left and you were starting to feel hungry and the first bite of brownie melted against your tongue. You let out a soft moan and sigh. You washed it down with a swallow of coffee and made another happy noise.

“Oh coffee,” you sighed. “I love you.”

Clint was watching you with a dumbstruck smile. His phone buzzed again and he snatched it up, checking the message. He snorted and dropped the phone back on the dashboard.

“Where to now, boss?” You asked.

“Just a little further and then east,” he replied.

“East? And Juliet is the sun?” You tried, cautious.

“Aww, Nat,” he groaned, hitting his head on the dashboard. “Did she tell you? She told you. I can’t believe she told you.”

Your brain moved rapid fire. You glanced at him and his vulnerability caught you. He looked sad and worried and he was looking at you like you were the most important thing in his universe. “Me?” You gaped. “I’m not Juliet. I can’t be.”

He turned and faced you. “Nat has been on my case to make a move for, well, since Budapest.”

You gaped. “Budapest was a disaster, I was no help at all and -“ Clint interrupted you with a soft kiss, puking back quickly. “Oh.”

“Budapest was a disaster. But I met you,” he said, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. “I want to -“

“You talk too much, Clint,” you interrupted. “Kiss me again.”

XxX

“I have coffee. And pizza,” a low voice replied.

“Fine. Come in, but you’d better be alone,” you called to the door.

Clint walked in, in your fuzzy pink bathrobe, carrying a pizza box with two travel mugs of coffee balanced on it.

“Honey, if you don’t put something else on, you’re going to be too busy to eat pizza,” he threatened.

You gave him a coy smile. “Oh?”

——————

@bolontiku - this is especially for you

But @rampant-salamander , you might like it too.

[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 8

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Ladybug has no idea what to do with her Lucky Charm, but she soon realizes it was never intended for fighting. She has one duty: protect Chat Noir.

> > > REVEAL DAY > > >

Ladybug hunched over, hands on her knees, bracing herself. She desperately tried to fill her lungs with oxygen, but each attempt felt like filling a sieve with water. This akuma was ranking pretty high up on the mental list she’d been forming since she first became Ladybug. She and Chat Noir could barely land a hit and Rena Rouge and Carapace weren’t faring any better.

And not to mention, they still hadn’t figured out the akumatized object.

She heard boots land beside her, but she didn’t need to look up to know Chat was there. She recognized the notes of his footfall like she would her favorite song on the radio.

“This is getting out of hand,” he said between pants. His voice was absent of its usual mirth and it frightened her. She relied on his lighthearted approach to imminent danger to contrast her immobilizing fear.

“I have . . . no idea . . . what to do with this,” she replied breathlessly, holding up her Lucky Charm.

Chat rounded to the front of her and squinted at it, scratching his head between his leather ears. “Is that . . . tin foil?”

Ladybug nodded, still a bit out of breath. “Rena and Carapace?”

“They’re distracting Sirena with illusions of us.”

“I wish we knew who she was.”

“Me, too.”

“And your shoulder?”

Chat tried to make a spectacle of rotating his arm. “It’s purr-fectly fine, I sw-- Ow!” Chat recoiled when his left arm hit just the right angle, spreading a frantic fire through his nerves.

Ladybug frowned.

“Okay, so maybe my shoulder isn’t fine. But it will be when we beat Sirena. I’ve been hurt in a battle before.” Fighting Riposte after injuring his leg as Adrien was not fun. Weredad was even worse. He shivered thinking of Tom akumatized and tried to play it off, but Ladybug remained unamused. “Really. It’s no biggie! Let’s just focus on a plan for the akuma. She’s already foiled our picnic plans.”

Ladybug held in a snort.

A silence draped over the pair as their minds raced and adrenaline coursed through their bodies. It was far from uncomfortable; they were quite accustomed to the quiet that sometimes accompanied their strategizing. Ladybug was a little--okay, maybe a lot eager to finish the battle so she and Chat could get back to their prior engagement: Reveal Day. She had worked so hard on his gift and the akuma had ruined everything, swallowing it and the picnic basket she had prepared in its ascending waters.

She even stayed up into the wee hours of the night baking him cat-shaped macarons!

But this akuma was accompanied by a sentimonster unlike anything they had seen yet. It was a whirlpool with teeth the size of limousines and its existence seemed to entail a supernatural rising of the tides. The thing was so grisly Ladybug tried not to look too hard at it in case her lunch decided to make a comeback.

That wasn’t even the half of it, though.

Oh, no, there just had to be more! The second anything touched said supernatural waters, it turned to seafoam. Humans included. Which is why Ladybug and Chat Noir had chosen to reconvene on the highest ground they could think of: Montparnasse Tower.

Like her sentimonster, the akuma was just as grotesque. Whenever Ladybug could get a decent look at her, she felt the itching sensation of goosebumps scorch her arms and back. Sirena appeared to be half-bird, half-human with razor-sharp talons for feet, splotchy feathers covering her legs, and gargantuan wings sprouting from her back. Her eyes were gray and devoid of life, and Ladybug had to wonder if they had the ability to also suck the life from a person. But what made Sirena the most dangerous was her affinity for song.

When she opened her mouth and sang, the whole world stopped to listen and obey, even if that meant walking into the perilous waters and ceasing to exist altogether.

“The ear plugs were a great idea, by the way, kitty cat,” Ladybug told Chat, beaming with pride.

Before Ladybug could process what was happening and that she was inching closer and closer to the water, Chat had stolen some toilet paper from a nearby convenience store and stuck it in all of the team’s ears, breaking the spell.

The compliment warmed Chat’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he said softly.

“How did you manage to snap out of it?”

“I--I don’t know. I don’t even know if I ever was under her spell. I think it has to do with my feline hearing?”

Ladybug’s brow furrowed. “So her singing didn’t affect you?”

Chat puckered his lips before letting out the most endearing laugh Ladybug had ever had the pleasure of hearing. “That was singing? All I heard was high-pitched screeching.”

Ladybug tried to stifle a laugh of her own but ultimately failed. Never one to miss an opportunity for clownery, Chat crossed his eyes, held out his hands like a zombie, and filled the air with velociraptor noises. Ladybug’s ribs hurt from laughing so hard.

“Maybe it has to do with frequencies?” Ladybug supplied, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

Chat shrugged, a goofy smile on his lips.

Rena Rouge and Carapace joined them then, but they appeared better off than Ladybug and Chat had been five minutes ago.

“I’ve got Sirena chasing Illusion Ladybug and Chat Noir, but I’m not sure it’ll last much longer,” Rena informed the team.

“Please tell me you have a plan, LB,” Carapace pleaded.

Ladybug and Chat Noir shared a look before Ladybug smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.

“Oh, man, dudes.” Carapace hung his head. “Sirena is, like, no joke. Who even is she?”

“We don’t know,” Ladybug and Chat replied in tandem.

“Yeah, and didn’t we already have a siren akuma? Shadow Moth has gotten so lazy,” Rena complained, crossing her arms.

Ladybug chuckled softly. “There was a siren akuma, but it was nothing like this.”

That akuma was the more colloquial version, having presented like a mermaid rather than like she came straight out of a Greek epic. She also didn’t have a raging whirlpool for a sentimonster and Ladybug could touch the water without disappearing.

Without warning, Alya burst out in laughter. “Wait a minute, girl. I remember seeing you use a trash bin as a boat that day!” Chat gawked at his partner and Ladybug felt her cheeks redden in shame. She firmly avoided eye contact. “Geez, you were so suspicious. I should have put two and two together way before you told me.”

“Rena,” Ladybug growled. She clenched her fists at her side and felt the roll of foil yield to her iron grip. It crinkled, drawing Rena’s attention.

“Oh, is that the Lucky Charm?” Rena asked, gesturing toward it with her flute.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure what to use it for.”

Both Rena and Carapace stared at the Lucky Charm for a moment. Then they stared at each other.

“Right, well,” Rena started while Carapace slowly backed away. “We’ll keep watch over there while you figure it out,” she finished. Then she elbowed her best friend gently and winked. “I believe in you.”

When they were out of earshot, Ladybug’s shoulders slumped. “Thanks,” she muttered glibly to no one in particular.

Chat blinked. “Bug? You okay?”

The tenderness in Chat’s voice took Ladybug by surprise. As it always did. How did he do that? How did he always know when she needed it the most?

Because he’s your other half, her traitorous brain supplied.

Ignoring her subconscious, Ladybug gave him a small smile and raised her fist. “You and me against the world?”

Chat eyed her fist before his face softened and he met her fist with his own. “Always.”

The anxiety gripping Ladybug’s heart loosened a bit, giving her just enough leeway to inspect her Lucky Charm and pray for a plan. She unraveled the foil a smidge, holding it up against the sun to get a better look.

“Hey, watch where you point that,” Chat warned when the foil reflected an overwhelming white light into his eyes. Not wanting it to happen again, he elected to stand near Rena and Carapace for the time being.

Ladybug chuckled nervously and opened her mouth to apologize, but the words died on her lips. She stiffened. Chills shot down her spine.

There, reflected by the foil, was the akuma torpedoing towards them. Darkness shrouded her figure as the sun eclipsed her wings, and catching Ladybug’s eye in the foil’s reflection only spurred her on. Light glinted off something in her hand, blinding Ladybug in one eye. The moment she realized what it was, her body jumped into action.

Dropping the foil, the spotted heroine raced so desperately her speed could rival sound. Funny how it still felt like she moved in slow motion. Her heart thudded in her chest and all she could hear was her own breathing.

As she neared her teammates, it became clear whom Sirena meant to attack.

With deadly aim, she was hurtling straight for Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, who was too caught up laughing at Carapace’s joke then to hear Sirena’s wings slice the air.

Chat Noir, who had a bum shoulder.

Chat Noir, whose dazzling smile made her ponder if that’s what standing next to the sun was like.

Chat Noir, who had sacrificed himself for Ladybug so many times, she lost count.

Chat Noir, who loved her.

Ladybug’s leg muscles burned as she mustered every bit of energy her body had to offer. She had to push Chat out of the way!

You had Mayura right where you wanted her. I could have managed by myself. Why’d you do that?

Because while she knew Chat could handle himself against the akumas (bum shoulder or not), what she didn’t know was if the rogue blade Sirena wielded could pierce their suits, and she wasn’t about to let her partner become the test subject.

As Ladybug neared her partner, she realized that this was exactly what her Lucky Charm was meant for.

We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug by itself doesn’t sound half as cool.

The foil was never meant to defeat Sirena.

You’re nothing without your Chat Noir.

It was always meant to guide Ladybug.

Chat Noir and I are a team. If you take me on, you take Chat Noir on, too.

No matter what would happen, Ladybug knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was destined to protect Chat. Sirena may have been aiming for her partner, but . . .

If you take him on, you take Ladybug on, too.

“Chat, MOVE!” Ladybug cried, hoping that if she didn’t get there in time, a warning might be enough.

Chat’s Noir’s ears twitched. Turning, he had only a millisecond to process what he saw before Ladybug’s palm slammed against his chest.

-----

I've been anticipating this chapter (and the second part, Chapter 9) since I started writing this beast. After a few revisions, I'm pretty happy with this chapter. A big THANK YOU for reading 🥰 writing wouldn't be half as fun without sharing 🥺 Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

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[hearts-hunger]

ciryc ca’tra (cold night sky): chapter five || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of the attack, you and Din try and mend each other before you try to mend your broken ship.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: spiders, brief panic attack/ptsd

A/N: This chapter? God-tier. Din is the best husband in the whole galaxy bar none. He’s attentive, he’s soft, he loves to make you laugh. Chock-full of fluff and hurt/comfort, just the way I like it. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it too! ♡

You needed to be near to your husband.

Maybe it was the set of his shoulders as he stood out in the snow, looking towards the place where the X-Wings had gone; maybe it was the way you still felt his hand in yours, squeezing tight like it was the last way he’d ever tell you he loved you. You stepped carefully over the broken glass and crushed metal to get through the cockpit doors, one hand carrying your baby, the other carrying your blaster. The little silver thing shook in your hand as you held it in front of you, and you desperately hoped you wouldn’t need to fire it.

You came down the ladder and had to stifle a sob at the sight that met you.

Gruesome, disfigured spider bodies tangled with cords and wires on the floor; long, stringy webs shone on every surface from floor to ceiling. The floor was slick with ice and slime and webbing; some limbs still twitched where they lay, their faint clicking making you shudder with revulsion. You nursed a low whine of disgust and fear at the hateful things as you stepped over them, webs catching in your hair, your skin crawling with the thought of them. Your shoulders tensed with every sound, every faint sign of fading life from the things that had infested your home.

You wanted to take a gasping breath of fresh air when you stepped through the web-covered break in the siding, but the wretched spiders were everywhere, the acrid smell of the green fluid mixing with the exhaust from the Crest’s smoking thrusters. The body of the giant one was collapsed over the top of the Crest, its legs seeming to swallow the ship like it wanted to pull it deep into the ice with it as it decayed. 

You heard something scuttle across the rubble and swung your blaster around to aim at it, but before you even spotted it, it was reduced to a heap of ash by a shot from behind you.

You stood looking at it for too long, watching the way the smoke curled up towards the cavern ceiling; you jumped and let out a choked sob when you felt Din’s hand on your shoulder.

“Just me,” he said, like he was afraid to spook you. He put a hand on your wrist and eased the blaster down; he gently pried it from your fingers and holstered it on his own belt. 

“Easy, cyar’ika,” he said softly, pulling you towards him. You gave a pathetic whimper and leaned into him, felt his hand move to your back to hold you securely against him. Your chin quivered with sickness and emotion, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be sick or burst into tears.

Your baby gave a quiet coo, and your body made the decision for you as you finally started to cry. You leaned completely against your husband as sobs wracked your body, every bit of fear and hurt and tension shredding through you until you were so overwhelmed by it you couldn’t catch your breath. Din gently eased the baby from your arms and urged you to try and take a breath.

“Ok, cyare,” he soothed, deep worry coloring his voice. “Breathe for me, love. Try and take a deep breath.”

You sucked in a greedy, hitching breath, pressing your hands to your face, trying to tether yourself to something - you felt your whole body had gone numb, and you couldn’t breathe - 

Din took one of your hands in his and held tightly, like he had in the cockpit, and suddenly your breath caught on a groaning sob like the sound of purest grief. Gasping moans tumbled from you, and it seemed like you’d never stop. You wanted this to be over. You wanted to be home. You didn’t want your home to be a pile of rubble underneath a giant, lifeless monster.

“Din, I can’t - ” you sobbed, “I don’t want - I can’t - ”

“I know,” he said, and the grief in his voice matched yours even if he couldn’t give himself over to it like you were. “I know, cyare. It’s ok. Just breathe for me.”

He stood patiently with you, letting you hold onto him, murmuring words of comfort in Basic and Mando’a until you’d finally worn yourself out with crying. You scrubbed at your hot, tear-streaked face, your shoulders hitching with your stuttering breaths, dizzy and tired and more run-down than you’d ever been in your life.

“That’s it,” Din said gently. “Deep breaths.” He grunted a little as you hugged him tightly, trying to be as close to him as you could.

He ran a soothing hand up and down your back. “You’re ok, cyar’ika. I’ve got you.”

“Sorry,” you said miserably, his chestplate cool against your burning cheeks. You’d wasted valuable time breaking to bits like that, out here where you were most vulnerable to attack. You couldn’t imagine keeping a hold of yourself like Din was, and wished you could be stronger.

“No, cyare,” he said, kind and yet firm. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You... we’ve suffered a great deal of fear and loss. You don’t have to apologize for feeling that.”

He tucked you protectively against him, one arm wrapped around you and the other holding your son. He gave a heavy sigh and rested his helm against your head.

“Mandalorians have a word - mirjahaal,” he said. “It means peace, or healing of the spirit. You say it to people who’ve suffered a loss or gone through something traumatic.”

“Mirjahaal,” you repeated. You had always loved the way Mandalorian words sounded, and held on to the way this word sounded strong and gentle at the same time.

Din hummed in agreement. “You can’t heal unless you feel the wound, cyar’ika,” he said gently. “And there’s no shame in being wounded.”

You let your husband hold you and offered your hand to your baby; he took your pinkie in a gentle grasp and cooed at you. There, with your little family held close in the protective circle of Din’s arms, you felt a little less of the terrible weight that had settled on your heart.

“Mirjahaal,” you said again, softly. You didn’t know how, but you felt things must get better; you would heal, and so would your family. You would be safe and have an abundance of peace. You knew you would.

You looked up at Din’s visor. “I love you.”

He gently touched his helmet to your head. “I love you too.” His grip tightened on your waist, and you lightly kissed the bottom of his helmet.

“We’re all safe, cyare,” he said, and you knew it was to remind himself as well as you. “We’ll find a way out of this, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly; the baby gave a quiet, happy babble.

Din’s laugh was wobbly through his vocoder. “I love you too,” he said, cradling his son closer to his chest. “You were very brave with mama, weren’t you, verd’ika?”

You smiled at the nickname, “little soldier” in Mando’a. His grip on your finger was strong, and you felt a wash of gratitude that he hadn’t been hurt. You didn’t know what you would have done if either he or Din had been injured, and felt profound relief that they were both safe.

“Come on,” you said, pulling away from Din just enough to take his hand in yours. “Let’s try and fix our home.”

Din let you keep your hold on him as you ducked back inside the Crest; you were thankful for his strength and steadiness as you took in the state of the ship with a clearer mind. It looked more hopeless than it ever had, a mere shadow of the safe, familiar fortress it had always been for your little family. 

“Haar’chak,” Din swore quietly. “This is... the worst I’ve ever seen her.”

You gave his hand a comforting squeeze. 

“We’ll fix her, Din,” you said, trying for confidence. You slipped your hand from his to reach down and pick up a box, saw a severed spider leg leaning against it, and bit your tongue to keep from yelling every curse word you’d ever learned from your husband.

You crossed your arms over your chest lest you be tempted to tidy anything else before the spiders were gone.

“I know it looks bad,” you said. “But we can handle it. We’ve...” You trailed off, your gaze snagging on the webs sticking from the ceiling to Din’s armor, and wondered fleetingly how covered you must be in the sticky residue.

He cocked his head at you. “What?”

“You’re just... covered in webs,” you said. He looked up and turned his head slightly, making the threads billow with his movement.

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ll have to scrub my beskar for a week to get everything off of it.” He gestured to you. “At least I have armor - you’re covered in it too.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Yes, I know I don’t have armor on, dearest. Thank you.”

His huff of a laugh was cut short, and you could tell by the sudden stiffness of his posture that something was wrong.

“What?” you asked, trying to tamp down the panic rising in your chest.

He held out a hand, like he might do to steady a skittish Fathier that could buck at any moment.

“Don’t freak out,” he said in a purposefully calm voice. Your baby was watching you with wide eyes, cooing with interest; all of a sudden you knew what it was, and your shoulders tensed with utter revulsion.

“Oh, kriff - get it off, Din, get it off, get it off,” you pleaded, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt a little scurrying movement on your shoulder and heard a tiny chitter, and you really and truly whined at the thought of the horrible thing on you.

 You felt Din’s hand swipe your shoulder, then heard a single blaster shot. You jumped and opened your eyes to see a scorch mark on the floor as Din holstered his blaster at his hip.

“It was that big?” you asked in dismay. You’d assumed he would just bat it away and step on it, but if it had been big enough to shoot at - 

“No,” he said. “But I didn’t want any more spider guts on my boots.”

You ran to him and put your arms around his waist, feeling your skin crawl. 

“It’s gone, cyare,” he said, though you knew he didn’t mind the hug. 

You shuddered. “I don’t care. I’m staying right here with you, forever.”

He chuckled. “Okay.” 

Your baby gave you a happy coo, delighted to see you so close to him as he leaned contentedly against his father’s chest, and you gave him a little smile.

“I love you, my little darling,” you said quietly, just for him to hear. He babbled and brushed his claws through your hair with intentional gentleness.

“Yes, nice pets,” Din said, like he had when teaching the baby to pet the Tusken Massiffs. “Be gentle with mama’s hair.”

You couldn’t help a laugh, but were reminded of the thing that had just been in your hair a second ago.

“See if there are any more on me,” you said, dreading the possibility.

Din leaned forward a little to check your back. “No, you’re fine.” He pulled a few strings of webs from your hair. “Have you ever considered shaving your head?”

You looked up at him. “It’s that bad?”

He considered the lock of your hair tangled in his fingers. “It’s... going to take a lot of dedicated brushing, I think.” He looked back down at you. “Not that I would know. Perks of an extremely religious upbringing.”

You gave him a wry smile and found yourself very relieved and comforted that your husband was joking with you.

“Thank you for slaying the beast,” you said. “All of them.”

“My pleasure, cyar’ika.”

He looked around at the interior of the ship, a low sigh coming through his modulator. “The only way I can think to get us out of here is to just fix the cockpit. There’s no way I can make enough of a repair of the hull to make it usable.”

You thought of the damage the cockpit had sustained and felt its repair alone was an ambitious goal; with the state of the Crest and your limited knowledge of mechanics, you agreed with his assessment that the majority of the ship would be nothing more than scrap metal until you could get it to a shop.

“We’ll get it fixed, Din,” you said. “Surely there’s someone on Trask who can help.”

He nodded. “I hope so. I’d really like to take it to Peli, but we can’t make it to Tatooine before we do some patchwork.”

You thought fondly of the short, curly-haired mechanic who’d become as good a friend to you and Din as any you’d found on your travels through the galaxy. If she and her droids were here, Din would have the Crest as good as new in short order, and your baby would have the company of one of the many people he’d charmed within the first few moments of meeting them.

“Though I should thank her for getting me into this mess,” Din said, an edge of uncharacteristic surliness to his voice. You knew he was just tired and overwhelmed, and tried to be kind when you responded.

“It’s not Peli’s fault that we’re here, my love,” you said gently, pulling a few threads of webbing from his pauldron. “She wanted to help a friend, and really, we owed her for helping us find someone to take us to the other Mandalorians.”

He gave a resigned huff. “Somebody to take us to the Mandalorians won’t do us much good if we don’t get off this kriffing planet.”

“Well, good thing we are getting off this planet,” you said. You looked up at him without judgement, but you wanted him to know you weren’t going to indulge his grumbling.

He sighed, and you saw how his shoulders slumped a little.

“You’re right,” he said, weary. “Sorry. I’m just...”

You would have kissed his helmet, but it was so covered in webs that you settled for tapping it gently where you knew his mouth was.

“I know,” you assured him gently. “And you don’t have to be all sunshine and starbursts for me, you know that. But if you start doing down the path of doom and gloom, we both know I won’t be far behind.”

He breathed a laugh. “Can’t have that, can we?” he asked. Then, very tenderly, “Thank you for keeping my head on straight, ner kar’ta. I couldn’t do this without you.”

You beamed at that; he only ever called you ‘my heart’ when he was very pleased and proud of you, and you were happy that what little help you could offer in the grand scheme of things had been that important to him.

“You won’t ever have to,” you reminded him. “I mean, I’ve stuck with you through a giant spider attack. There’s really not much worse you could throw at me.”

He gave a wry hum of agreement. “No, I guess not.” He looked around at the tangled spider bodies that had begun to close in on themselves, and you knew him well enough to know he was grimacing under the helm.

“They are pretty awful, aren’t they?” he asked. “I’ve dealt with some questionable creatures before, but I think these take the uj'alayi.”

Just the mention of the dense, sweet Mandalorian cake was enough to make you start daydreaming about it. “I could go for some uj'alayi right now,” you said dreamily.

He chuckled. “When we get the Crest back on her feet, I’ll make you some,” he promised. “But for now, I guess we can eat our fill of roasted spider.”

He waggled his fingers towards you in imitation of the creepy things, and you batted his hand away with a laugh.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, and he laughed too. “I’d rather share the frog eggs with the baby if it came down to it.”

Din tried to muffle a laugh but it ended up just sounding kind of strangled, and not a second later did you hear the quiet croak of the frog lady from behind you. You looked wide-eyed at Din, struck with sudden embarrassment like a youngling talking about someone behind their back on the playground, and he merely cocked his head at you. You knew he was trying not to laugh under his helmet, and you gave him a petulant shove against his chestplate.

“Good thing we have some rations left, right, cyare?” he said, intending to be overheard.

You tried for a withering look but couldn’t quite manage it; his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter and you couldn't help a grudging smile at how his mood had improved.

“I’m so getting you back for that,” you said in a low voice.

You knew he was smiling at you; you could always tell with Din.

“I’ll be on my guard, cyar’ika,” he said amusedly, assuring you he was looking forward to whatever you’d cook up to get back at him with. You felt a brief, hesitant desire for your husband, something you were sure would have burned much brighter if your circumstances had not been so dire. You hoped that once you got out of this mess, you could take a breather of sorts - maybe drop the baby off with Omera and go back to Naboo for a long weekend in the sun. 

The thought of your home planet’s warmth only made you feel the cold of this planet more sharply, and you allowed yourself a little sigh as you were brought back to the reality of your situation.

“Alright,” Din said to both you and the frog lady, and you knew he’d felt the end of your short reprieve as well. “I’m gonna repair the cockpit enough for us to limp to Trask. There’s nothing I can do about the main hull’s integrity, so we’re gonna have to get cozy in the cockpit. It’s the only thing I can pressurize.”

You’d never minded being in the cockpit before, but you’d also always had the option of roaming the ship. You idly wondered how long it would take to get to Trask, considering lightspeed was out of the question, and began to mentally prepare yourself for a lengthy trip with a toddler who wasn’t used to being so cooped up.

“If you need to use the privy, do it now,” Din suggested. “It’s gonna be a long ride.”

He handed the baby over to you, and your son gave only a slight coo of protest before he snuggled into your arms. You wished you had somewhere to take him to let him run around for a bit before you settled in the cockpit, but there wasn’t a single place in or around the ship that wasn’t in smoking ruin or littered with spiders.

Come to think of it, there really wasn’t any place for you to go. You looked up at Din.

“Can we stay with you while you work?” you asked.

He shrugged. “If you want to. It won’t be very entertaining.”

You gave a tired wave of your hand. “Fine by me.” Dozing in the passenger seat while Din worked on the repairs seemed luxurious compared to the events of the past few days.

You turned to the frog lady, intending to ask if she’d like to come up with you, but she had set herself to the task of gathering the smaller spider bodies and tossing them outside. You cringed as a limb broke off one when she picked it up, but as much as you had all disliked them when they were alive, they didn’t seem to faze her now that they were dead.

Din stepped forward as she put her weight into dragging a larger one towards the split in the hull, his body language tight with almost comical unease.

“You don’t have to - ” he started, but she gave a dismissive croak and muscled the spider across the floor. Both you and Din reacted with wincing aversion, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Ok then,” your husband said quickly, clearly content to let her continue if she wished and unwilling to continue watching her do it. He steered you towards the ladder. “We’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything.”

Like he always did when you went up the ladder with the baby in hand, Din let you go first and hovered protectively to catch you if you slipped. You never had, but you didn’t mind indulging that particular habit for the sake of his nerves. You actually appreciated it then, with webs and slime covering each rung - Din’s hand on your thigh was steadying as you fought to overcome your reluctance to keep a firm grip on the sticky ladder.

The cockpit was covered in webs too, and Din kindly swept them from your seat before he started pulling them from the instrument panel. You felt a little guilty as you sank into your chair, watching him set to work - you were achy with exhaustion, and you knew that for all his armor, he’d gotten battered and bruised in the fight with the spiders and was running on only a few hours of broken sleep. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you offered. You didn't know the first thing about mechanics, but maybe there was something you could do for him.

His chuckle was affectionate. “No, cyare, that’s ok,” he said gently. “You rest.”

Before he hunkered down to work on the dash, he unscrewed the little silver handle from the gear shift and dropped it into your son’s outstretched hand.

“Be good and play quietly,” Din said to the baby. “Let mama rest.”

The baby cooed in agreement, settling in your lap and turning the ball over in his hands. Din gave your knee a slightly distracted but affectionate pat as he knelt in front of the instrument panel, fishing through the toolbox to find what he needed.

You leaned your elbow on the dash and watched for a few moments; there was something soothing about the way Din was so methodical in caring for his ship. You’d sat with him during repairs or routine maintenance countless times while you were courting; he’d let you chatter away about anything and everything while he worked, occasionally asking a thoughtful question or laughing at a funny memory you recounted. You’d fallen in love with him while he worked on the Crest, and you rested in that love now as he worked diligently to keep you and your baby safe. 

“I’m gonna fall asleep,” you mumbled, resting your cheek against your propped-up arm. Your exhaustion was finally catching up to you now that the adrenaline had faded, and your eyes fluttered shut as your head nodded a little.

You heard him turn towards you. “You don’t look that comfortable, cyar’ika.”

You gave a light shug, re-settling your arm around the baby. “Take me somewhere with a huge, Varactyl feather bed when you get the ship fixed.”

He chuckled. “Okay,” he agreed. “Do you want me to take the baby from you?”

“Only...” You yawned. “Only if he looks like he’s going to fall off my lap.”

You felt him run his knuckles lightly over your shin. “Goodnight, cyare.”

You nodded, feeling yourself fade fast, knowing you were safe and taken care of. “‘Night. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said. You heard the soft whir of one of his tools start up again, and moments later, you drifted off into a dearly needed sleep.

Read chapter six!

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[ambrial-blog]

Someone had left the gates open, and he had slithered past them,  watching the apple red horse from afar flutter about his amber-hued-ruby-red eyes, alluring beckoned him from the shadows. Spiral yellow eyes narrowed as he listened to the candy-coated colt chatter away with the prestigious Ares Goeita.

Striker's tail wraps around Blitzo's midsection,  pulling him closer and away from the Goeita pony. Blitz blinks back in confusion. One moment, he was talking to a flirtatious Stolas who was offering him a bite of apple underneath the apple tree.

Next, he was staring into the blazing yellow eyes of a peach-skinned  Feral.  Blitzo gulped, taking a step back, listening to his tail rattle. This was bad. Blitzo was trapped in a corral with a Feral in heat.  His older brother: The Moxie Pony, had drilled into his head two things at a very young age. One: you must never go near another pony while they are in the heat: and two never mingle with the wild ones: the untamable brutes who like to bully and harass the smaller.  

Striker was both- a pure hybrid self-sufficient and always on the prowl looking for a Superior mate. Taking what he wanted regardless of anyone else.

The snake pony hissed evilly, Cornering Blitzo while nuzzling his cutie mark.  Forcing Blitz onto his back, his hooves stomping onto tiny bat-wings keeping Blitzo pinned beneath him. His cowboy hat shades his face as he dips down, nuzzling and nipping at Blitzo's neck. Striker has his skull choker in his mouth, dragging Blitz along, making a pleasing chortling sound as Blitzo drags his hooves on the ground.

"Let go! I am not ready for this! " Striker nuzzles his butt before nipping his ear.  He uses his nose to push the red-skinned pony further into the open. Forcing Blitzo to the ground, he bares his teeth. Nuzzling his nose into Blitzo's chest. Blitzo stares up, his hooves half curled into Striker's red bandanna as he tries to push against his chest. His ruby-red eyes shine as an apple drops onto Striker's head from above.  

The Ares Goeita pony is circling them, his wings gliding in the wind.  Striker pushes Blitzo against the wall and hides him from view as he snarls at Stolas for interrupting. Blitz manages to wiggle out, running through Striker's legs, but before he can run far,  Striker lays on him, his entire body engulfing Blitz crushing his wings.  Striker laughs, swatting Stolas away: like a pesky fly with his tail.

Hissing and snarling at the Ares Goeita who was fluttering about, his bright red eyes had a murderous glow to them.   "Go get Moxie and Mamma Millie,"  Cries Blitzo as Striker grunts and settles into the dirt, waiting for the blue blood to pass.

The Murderous foal twitched in the sky, afraid if he flew away to find the others, the little red-skinned foal and the lecherous fearl would slink away into the night. "Hurry, Stolas! Cries Blitzo earning another grunt from Striker, the rattler laughing at him from the shade of the tree. "Yea, run along, sweet prince. By the time you get back, I will have sown my seed deep into this spitfire.

"And what is that silly little miniature going to do, talk me to death while going over what's right and wrong and ask me- no, no, I prefer it if he begs me out the goodness of my black heart, to give back this frisky little foal." Striker hisses.

The Outlaw rolls his eyes, laughing as Blitzo sticks his head out, "Stolas! Screams trying to escape. Striker just bends his head, nuzzling Blitzo. His tongue licks his face as he nips on his ear.  Blitzo makes a disgusted face before burrowing into Striker, trying to get the saliva off his face. "I can smell your purity Blitz, no one has broken you in, Blitzy. It must be my lucky day that I happen across your sweet-sweet- almost pheromone-like scent." " you may be only a tiny foal right now, but one day you'll grow into a superior breed, like me, and that's a day I look forward to the most.  I wonder what you'll look like while in heat? Hisses Striker, flicking his tongue at Stolas.   "I'll enjoy listening to the sound of your heat when your begging me to take you and make you mine." "I've been watching you for a long time, Blitz-longer than I care to admit, you smell of wilderness so this corral isn't meant for our type I've come to take you home."

Stolas did one last sweep in the air before flying away to the stables where Moxie and Millie were last seen.  Loony, the wolf-hound, looked up with sleepy eyes as Stolas entered the barn. His eyes burning red, the stables were empty.

Striker stood up so that Blitzo could get a bit of fresh air. The red-skinned pony stood underneath him, flexing his wings. His legs wobbled underneath him. As Striker brushed his face up against Blitzo one last time before running towards an open fence, grabbing a lasso with his teeth, he hooks it around Blitzo's neck.

Blitz reels back as Striker continue to tug, his body scooting across the dirt, looking up, Blitz eyes filled with tears as he no longer saw the Ares Goeita in the sky. Blitz trotted backward in hopes of stalling for Stolas, his ruby wings flapping at his side as he dove for the outsider. Snaring a hoove into Striker's face. Striker snarled, throwing the pony into the side of a barn. "Yes, I'll definitely enjoy breaking you in," hisses Striker.  

A blood-curdling scream echoes from Blitzo's mouth as Striker stomps on his wings, tearing one of them and shredding the other with his teeth. "No more flying away, no more back-talking he grunts as Blitz shoves a hoove into his chest. Striker leans down to nuzzle the little spitfire.

Blitzo cries out as  Striker's teeth sink deep into his neck. He holds Blitzo down while he finishes giving him a mark, out in the open where everyone can see- A premature mating mark. Before taking him by the scruff of the neck. Blitzo had his head bowed, his eyes downcast.

 He was halfway out the coral doors when A bright red horse with a black flowing mane appeared over the horizon, hellfire burning in her eyes. Not far behind was an ivory pony with golden eyes set ablaze while above circled Stolas.

Millie tears down the fields, kicking up fire and brimstone teeth bared; she rams into Striker, knocking Blitzo from his mouth. Who slumps to the ground. Moxie is beside his wife, flanking her while Stolas circled Blitzo.

The tiny foal lay motionless in the hot sun, his battered wings flap helplessly as Stolas lands. He nudges Blitz, but the colt doesn't respond.

"Blitzy... Now, come on- stop playing games, Blitzy." Stolas whines.

Millie tares into Striker's neck, ripping it open,  her hooves claw at his face. Striker laughs through the pain, his teeth stained red with blood. His tail whips smacking across Millie's face. He headbutts her- but gets derailed by Moxie, who slams him into the fence.

Striker licks his teeth, tasting Blitzo's blood and some of his own. Millie staggers to her feet, seeing her husband corner the feral.  She looks for her foal.  Stolas had dragged Blitzo into the shade of the tree and away from the fighting.

He nuzzles the heart-shaped cutie mark giving a soft whine when Blitzo doesn't respond.  He gives a sad little helpless look to the mare. Millie's eyes churn red as she charges over towards where she had last seen Moxie duking it out with Striker.  They were gone. The fence was broken, with blood smeared across it.  She looks around, frightened. She tares back down the brimstone, hearing her mate cry out in pain and hissing laughter.

"Millie... Moxie calls, his voice hoarse. Mildred finds her husband skewered on a broken fence. "He is after Blitz, you need to go back,  Stolas is in danger," Moxie coughs, coughing up blood. "Moxie No!.... NO! we can fix this. It doesn't look too bad," Mox-baby." "Octavia she can fix this," sobs Millie. "Go unless, you want your son to be forcibly  mated to a serpent-pony, I'll be here when you get back, Mills our son needs us," chokes Moxie.

Back in the corral, Stolas had found a dirty blanket underneath an empty basin. He struggled with it before freeing it and heading over towards the red-skinned pony. Pulling the tattered cloth over Blitzo's prone form, trying his best to keep him warm.  He was all-too-aware of how much blood the tiny colt lost and how on earth a slithering feral got into this corral, let alone ranch?.

He nuzzles the colt in hopes of stirring him, but Blitz is out cold. He bows his head as tears fall from his eyes. He nuzzles him repeatedly, sighing deeply when Blitzo's head drops down. " Blitzy, please forgive me for not coming quicker. I shouldn't have left you; I should have stayed, then maybe this wouldn't have happened to you my little impish one."

The Ares Goeita then tries for that empty basin, breaking the water nasal and overflowing the tin basin; he drags the bay over, splashing Blitzo in the face.  He tries to cool down the colt, forcing water into his mouth. But suddenly still upon hearing the distant sound of a rattlesnake.  Stolas springs into action shielding Blitz from those glowing yellow snake eyes and those blood-stained teeth that are pulled into a grin.

Striker was back, and he was ready for round two.

To Be Continued

[miceenscene]

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 6.2k / 28.5k

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Din Is In A Cult, angst with an eventual happy ending i swear

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Eight: The End

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Anella held onto Nia as if in fear that she might slip through her fingers again. Both of them talking through tears over the other.

“I’ve missed you so much! I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you–”

“Niæna! I thought you were–Niæna, cyare’se–”

Loved one.

They stopped talking at the exact same moment to listen, making them both laugh and wipe away tears.

Anella cupped Nia’s cheeks and pressed her forehead to hers, frowning in a joy so bright it had to hurt.

“Me'vaar ti gar, ba’buir?” Nia whispered, sniffling.

How are you, grandmother?

Anella nodded slowly, swallowing hard before speaking in a rough voice. “Ner bu’ad. Yaimpar. Ori’sol gedetyar.”

My granddaughter. Returned. There is much to be grateful for.

Watching their reunion made something deep inside Din ache. He had never felt like more of an outsider.

He stepped back once, twice, hoping to let them share this moment as long as they wanted to without an audience. But–

“Ke’mot!”

Halt!

Even if it hadn’t been the exact order used by his training instructors, the tone Anella used would have stopped a runaway Star Destroyer. Din looked back, shoulders automatically hunching to brace for whatever was coming next. Anella still had an arm around Nia, but was giving him a very familiar looking study.

“Is he with you?” she asked Nia.

She smiled. “Yes, he’s with me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

Anella looked slightly mollified. “Do you have a name to go with all that beskar?”

“He goes by–”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

For half a second, he had the same feeling as when he gave Nia his true name on their first meeting. WHY? But the warm and open look in Nia’s eyes immediately quenched any doubt he might have had.

Anella looked between the two of them then snorted. “Come, let us leave this drafty high rise and you can explain. You too, Din-Din Djarin.”

Huh. It’d been a long time since he’d had relatives.

Anella took them to her small apartment many thousand levels down from the twin-spired penthouse. It was cramped, and there was some sort of betting ring happening on the street corner, but they could still see the sky, so better than most on Coruscant.

Inside was about as luxurious as being aboard The Razor Crest, which made Din feel a lot more at ease, truth be told. Anella managed to find an extra crate for Din to sit on as she only owned two chairs, but it didn’t feel too tight at the table.

Anella was a small woman, slight and barely reaching his chest. But she still had a commanding Presence that made him continually straighten his posture every time she re-entered the room. The long burn scar through her whitened eye probably helped, but even then…

Nia hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Ba’buir, sit. We’re fine.”

Anella grunted disbelieving and tossed two ration packs their way. “If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten the good ones. But I at least have this.” She placed down three metal cups on the table and brandished a bottle half-filled with golden liquor.

She filled the cups with the very strong smelling booze and then lifted hers. “K'oyacyi.”

Cheers. Literally, ‘stay alive’.

“K’oyacyi,” Nia repeated before sipping. Din lifted his glass, but did not drink.

Anella gave him an odd look. “I can assure you, this place is safer than it looks.”

“Din doesn’t remove his helmet in front of others,” Nia explained before he had to.

A knowing look crossed through Anella’s eyes that turned to a pointed glare towards Nia, who avoided it by paying very careful attention to opening her ration bar.

“I see. Well, it will keep just fine,” Anella said before taking Nia’s hand in hers and giving her a soft, concerned look. “Now tell me, my Comet-fire, what has happened since I saw you last?”

Nia let out a long breath. “A lot, but… I’m not even sure when that was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a control chip put in my head,” Nia said, making Anella’s face harden and her grip clench. “Din made sure it was removed, but it took… everything. I wasn’t even sure of my own name when I woke up.”

Anella’s face was disturbed, but she nodded and sat back. “Tell me what you know then. And I will clarify.”

“I remember Mandalore. My parents and you, our home. I remember you raising me, training me–training us. We found the school. Ba’buir, it was attacked–”

Anella held up a hand “I know this. Continue.”

Nia kept going. “I remembered the Vod’oya after we found the headquarters. Going through the mission log brought back a lot of good memories.” She smiled for a moment, but then it disappeared. “But there’s gaps. In the records themselves. We have a contact seeing if it can be recovered, but haven’t heard anything yet.”

So far none of this seemed to surprise Anella. “And then?”

Nia’s face grew very carefully blank. “I know I killed Phasia,” she said in a small voice. On instinct, Din reached out and took Nia’s other hand. He could feel Anella’s gaze rest on him for a moment. “I don’t… know why, but I remember doing it. Ro saw me shoot her, she told me.”

“You found Ro?” Anella asked, sounding actually surprised now.

“Yes, she was… angry. I would be too.”

“What brought you here then?”

Din spoke up, making them both look his way. “I had a bounty, some years ago, for Phasia. I delivered her to that building. Nia remembered being chipped there when we arrived.”

“I remember a man. Human. He wanted to know where the school was…” Nia’s face threatened to crumble. “And I told him. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Because you were chipped,” Anella reminded her, her voice fierce with determination. “Do not take guilt that is not yours, Niæna.”

She didn’t look like she quite agreed with her, but she let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for eight months, and there’s still so much we don’t know. Please, anything will help.”

Anella nodded and considered for a moment before speaking. “I hope you have re-discovered it, but your gut instinct is… uncanny. As a child, it was unsettling.” A wry smile twisted her mouth for a moment. “But as you grew older, and especially with the path you and the others chose, it gave me some measure of peace. So when you came to me a year ago and told me that you felt one of the Vod’oya had betrayed the group, I trusted you. But I told you that you would need hard proof to convince the rest. And you had it. The collection of missions the Vod’oya had completed all under false pretenses, all proposed by Phasia. You showed it to me not long before… before it all ended.

She finished her drink and set the cup down. “The owner of that building is a man named Terreck Basslan. He is rich, which makes him powerful. Even with your proof, we weren’t sure how he’d gotten his hooks into Phasia–” She looked pointedly at Din. “But it was clear that she was the turncoat. Through her, Basslan was using the Vod’oya as his own personal army. The seven of you could take out his enemies, remove his competitors, or just cut down anyone in his way. I am sure he lined Phasia’s pockets with more credits than she knew what to do with for her assistance.

“When you told me, I thought it best to disband, but… you wanted to know why she had betrayed the sisterhood. I told you to be careful. She had kept up the ruse for years; she was probably deeper in than even we knew.” Her face grew even more somber. “And then I was woken up very late by Kolo, who told me that Phasia was dead. And you were missing.

“I went after you immediately. You made it to the spaceport before I could get to you. I followed you, tracked you to that building.” She shook her head, a grim light in her eyes. “At the time, I hoped you were dead. That would have been better than most of the fates that waited there.”

“I got lucky,” Nia said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” Anella replied, looking at Din. “By the time I returned to the school, the Empire had already come through. Basslan must have told them where we were; Mandalorians are not technically wanted, but far from welcome. They killed some, took most. Where and for what purpose, I do not know. I buried the dead and burned the stormtroopers in the woods. Set out to find my students.”

“You think Basslan knows where they are?” Din asked.

“I think Coruscant is a good place to hide when you still need contacts. I have a scanner nearby; it logs every ship that comes and goes from Basslan’s.” She smiled slightly. “My curiosity was sparked when the same pre-Imperial ship that landed at my school three weeks ago showed up here. Though the Mandalorian was more a surprise than your survival, Comet-fire. Where did you find him?”

Nia laughed slightly. “He found me. On Tatooine. When I was chipped, everything felt foggy. Except for this… compulsion. Kick the guard off the barge. I did, and then he showed up out of nowhere.”

“And what brought you to Tatooine, Din?”

“I took a quarry and had my own… instinct. Go to the Dune Sea, and follow the barge.”

Nia smiled at him. “Though the next thing I remember is waking up to a stormtrooper swinging a staff at me.”

“You wouldn’t stay on the ship,” he replied, making her laugh.

Anella was looking sharply between the two of them. “I see.”

“We’re Matched,” Nia added, resting a hand on his arm.

“Good. Glad you have figured that out yourselves.” She refilled the two empty glasses and sat back in her chair. “Are you bonded yet?”

Nia’s confused frown reflected the one on his face. “No…?”

“It will come in time. What clan are you from, Din?”

“I don’t have one. I was a foundling, raised in the fighting corps.”

“Outside of Keldabe, right?” Anella asked, though it seemed she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Nia asked, pulling the conversation off track. She nodded to the corner where a few bags were packed.

“I was, yes. I have received a tip on where my students may have been taken. Was going to investigate when you two arrived.”

“I want to come with you,” Nia said.

Anella held up a hand. “No. I do not know yet if it is true. If it is, I will leave word at the school. But you need your evidence back. Prove yourself to Ro and find the others together.”

Nia nodded, though it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her grandmother again.

They stayed up talking, reminiscing till late in the night. Not stopping till Nia could barely keep her eyes open. Anella wouldn’t hear of them returning to the ship, making a few spare beds out of the blankets and furniture she was leaving behind.

Nia curled up on the couch, immediately dropping into sleep before she’d even managed to pull a blanket over herself. Din watched Anella drape a quilt over her and smooth her hair, something deep inside him aching again.

Anella caught him staring from the table, jerking his head back to look down at his still full cup. However, instead of retiring herself, she sat down across from him and refilled her glass.

There was a quiet minute as she sipped and studied him carefully. She and Nia really were related.

“Tell me, Din,” she said in a low voice. “What are your intentions towards my granddaughter?”

He didn’t know how, but he suddenly felt that every answer that came to mind was wrong.

“As long as Nia wants me by her side, that is where I’ll be,” he said finally. True in spirit, but not his full hopes.

She huffed in amusement. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.”

Her choice of words gave him pause.

“Because it seems to me like you have already chosen her,” she continued.

Kriff, he’d hoped he was more subtle than this.

“Not formally…” he admitted. “But… I am… settled.” He looked to where he could see the top of Nia’s head. “I do not know if she agrees with me.”

“What of your tribe? Do they agree with you?”

Din looked back at her, frowning. “Nia is my Match, what is there to argue with?”

Anella chuckled into her teacup. “Since when has that stopped Mandalorians?”

Under his helmet, he frowned. The idea had not even crossed his mind…

“You know, Nia’s mother was of your tribe. The Faithful Ones up the mountain,” she added.

“Really?”

She nodded once, looking at him closely. “When she and my son chose each other… her tribe cast her out for choosing someone who was not faithful.” A black pit opened in his stomach. “It was difficult for her, and admittedly, I had my doubts at first about the wisdom of my son’s choice.” A wistful smile filled her eyes. “But before long, she made me as proud as if I had birthed her myself. It was through her foresight and her sacrifice that Nia and I survived and escaped when the Empire invaded our village.”

“Nia never told me.”

“Nia does not know. Her mother wanted to leave that part of her past behind her. And she did…” She drained her cup and stood. “I may be biased, but I think she was happier for it.” She patted his shoulder as she passed by. “Good night, Din Djarin.”

Din finished his cup and settled for the night, leaning against the couch with a long sigh. Nia, still asleep, turned and threw her arm across his chest. He slipped his glove off and held her hand, the usual something flickering beneath the surface as he drifted off.

The next morning, Anella saw them back to The Razor Crest, not before giving them a small case of ration bars and the quilt Nia had slept under. She probably would have foisted more, if Nia hadn’t gently yet firmly assured her they weren’t in danger of starving.

“One last thing,” Anella said, making Nia suck in a breath and Din bite back a chuckle. She reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped, rather flat package, handing it to Nia. “You should have this. It is time.”

Nia unwrapped it and both their mouths dropped open. It was a beskar cuirass, battle-worn and painted grey and white.

Nia looked up at her. “I cannot accept this–”

“I cannot wear it anymore. It is right that you should have it, cyare’se.” Anella ran a hand over her beskar, thumb rubbing at one of the scuffs. “It will need to be fitted to you. And deserves new paint. Perhaps a new color if you think it fitting.”

The color of a Mandalorian’s armor was symbolic. Grey meant mourning a loved one, while white meant a new start.

His own red set was in honor of his parents. Perhaps it was time for a new color on his own as well.

“I will take good care of it,” Nia promised solemnly, her hand pressed over the iron heart in the center.

Anella nodded. “I know this.” She rested a hand on her shoulder and waved Din in to rest the other on his, looking between the two of them. “Look after one other well. Mandalorians need each other, now more than ever.”

They looked at each other, a warm smile passing between them. “We will,” Nia promised, not looking away for a moment.

Anella patted Din’s arm and kissed Nia’s forehead one last time before letting them board the ship.

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Anella called, waving from the landing pad.

Maybe we’ll meet again. A Mandalorian farewell.

Nia watched her from the cockpit, waving back as Anella grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view.

Din was setting coordinates for Nevarro when a message came through. Peli’s voice was crackly but clear.

“You two are in luck; I was able to recover most of the data. Come back to Tatooine when you can–and don’t forget the rest of my money.”

He immediately plotted coordinates for Tatooine. Unfortunately, Coruscant being Coruscant, it was actually almost two full hours later till they made the jump to hyperspace and he could leave the flight deck.

He found Nia down in the hull, putting away the armor cleaner that usually only he used.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking her now shining beskar into the armory. “Yes… Part of me wishes we didn’t have to be apart, but we’ll see each other again.” She smiled back at him. “She liked you, you know.”

He chuckled. “I liked her too.”

Her eyes shone, warm and open. “Din. You… you have saved my life in so many ways. Without you…”

The look in Anella’s eye came to mind – I hoped you were dead – making him pull her into his arms. Safe, she was safe now.

She leaned back enough to look at him. “It means so much to me that you like my clan. Maybe… the next time we see Anella, I could ask if she would let you join. You could claim clan Vard’on when people ask. If you wanted.”

“A clan of three,” he said, trying it on for size and finding it a perfect fit.

She smiled, so much brighter and more beautiful than the stars that he just had to kiss her.

Din slipped his helmet on the next morning and opened the bunk door. Nia was already up, doing the final meditation of her stretching routine, completely still and her back straight as a saber.

He admired her form, the slope of her waist and the absolute control over her body she commanded. By the Mythosaur, he was beyond merely lucky to have a Match like her.

“You’re staring, my absence,” she said, without turning around to see him.

He smiled and went to sit behind her, pulling his helmet off before tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck.

Sea air and wildflowers.

“Absence?” he asked, interrupting the end of her meditation in more ways than one.

She relaxed back against him. “When you’re helmeted… I can feel the space where you should be, rather than actually you. You’re my favorite absence.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear.

A contented hum echoed from her chest as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

They sat there in the quiet perfect ordinariness for a while. That feeling of Something hurtling towards them returning. Though this time, it arrived.

Connection.

“What is this?” she murmured.

Pure and powerful.

It went beyond star bursts and comet fire.

It was… the birth of a galaxy. The miracle of Something from Nothing.

And at the same time, it was simply just her. And him.

Devotion flowed through his hands, tempered with loyalty and admiration. Strong and fierce. Familiar, but decidedly not his.

“Nia,” he whispered, head swirling with the rush.

“I thought the bond was just… a metaphor. A fairy tale…”

Surprise and awe joined the cocktail before simmering down into an amusement that sparkled.

This was her, Din realized after a moment. It was Nia. She was feeling all of this, and through where he touched her, he felt it too. Was she feeling him? How did she not drown in all these emotions?

Concern flooded the riptide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a hand slipping up to cup the back of his neck. Every place she touched him, Awareness flowed, nearly overwhelming. “Din?”

He nodded, finding his footing slowly but surely. “Yes. I… I feel you.”

Concern ebbed, replaced with shimmering adoration.

“Din Djarin, you like me,” she teased, curling against him.

He had to laugh. That was too small a word for everything he could guess she felt from him.

“I do.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, holding her tightly and basking in her. Without any effort at all, the words slipped out, soul-deep and earnest. “Will you marry me?”

Surprise detonated.

She breathed a giggle. “Grandmother warned me that Mandalorians move fast. I just assumed she was talking about sex.”

He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know…” Thoughtful consideration welled up.

She had to feel his nerves, his longing for this.

Instead of answering, however, she turned to face him, eyes already closed without any reminder. Her hands reached out for his face, and he guided them to his cheeks. She pulled him close again, pressing their brows together.

“Yes.”

Star bursts and comet fire. Coming from both him and her.

A smile so bright it splintered into a laugh bubbled up from within him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling too, eyes still closed.

He nearly asked her to open them. Breaking his Oath seemed almost worth it to see her eyes with his own in that moment.

But something deep recoiled at the thought. So instead he kissed her, soft and sweet.

“When?” she asked, lips still brushing his.

He kissed her again. And again. And again, moving slowly up her jaw, fingers brushing through her curls. “Now?” he asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Really?”

“Mhi solus tome–”

We are one together. The first line of the vows.

She gasped and pulled half back, but he reeled her back in, laughing and nowhere near done kissing her. Her surprise and amusement bubbled.

“Grandmother would never forgive you if you married me on the floor of your ship.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “Would you forgive me?”

“I’d have to think about it,” she teased with a grin he happily kissed away.

“Where should we go then?” A kiss to her forehead. “Naboo?” A nibble to her chin. “Coruscant?” A rub to her nose with his. “Mandalore?”

She laughed. “Yes, reclaim Mandalore for me, and I’ll marry you by the lake outside of Keldabe.”

“De ner haat.”

By my honor.

Still smiling, she kissed him once more and then relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, a hand stroking through the hair by his ear. Her happiness sparkled under his skin everywhere she touched him.

“I don’t care where… but I would like to have my eyes open. When we marry, I want to see you.”

A thin curl of worry smoldered in his throat. “Will the helmet be enough?”

She was quiet for a long moment, considering again. “Yes. I will never ask you to break your Oath for me, de ner haat.”

The worry immediately extinguished. He kissed her forehead. “Vor entye.”

I accept this debt. Or thank you.

“Of course, ner riduur.”

My husband.

He smiled and held her tighter, the edges of his person threatening to burst from their shared joy too large to be contained within just himself.

“Din Djarin of clan Vard’on, chosen of Niæna, has a nice sound to it,” she said, smiling too.

“Yes. It does.”

They arrived in Tatooine the next day, Peli extremely happy to see her money. And also them.

Nia flipped through the recovered data, the proof of Peli’s hard work evident in the relief in her eyes. “It’s here. This can all be traced back to Terreck and Phasia,” she said before tucking the drive away.

“Thank you, Peli,” Din said, offering a hand.

She looked surprised then shook his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t that difficult. And tell you what, next time you come to Tatooine, I’ll get rid of that dent on the back side of the ship for you. Half-price.”

Now with the evidence in hand, it was time to reach back out to Ro.

Nia left another puzzle box on the doorstep of her house, hoping that it hadn’t been abandoned.

But even if Ro was still around, there was no guarantee that she would answer.

However, about a week after they left the message, they got a holo request. Nia looked back at him from where she sat in the captain’s chair, face twisted with worry. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she accepted the call.

Ro appeared, her semi-translucent face completely neutral.

“Ro, I’m glad you called,” Nia said, offering a slight smile.

Ro nodded once. “Your message said you can explain what happened.”

“I can, yes. Phasia… she was working for someone else. Someone bad. And I can prove it. I swear by the Manda’lor. I swear by Anella.”

“Fine, fine. Bring your proof and I’ll listen. But I want to meet with just you. Leave the buckethead behind.”

Nia looked his way. He pulled off a glove, brushing fingers against her hand out of view of the camera. Her worry flowed through the contact, but changed to gratitude as she felt his understanding.

“Alright. Tell me where, and I’ll come alone,” Nia promised.

“I’ll send coordinates.” But instead of hanging up, Ro paused. “If you… after we clear the air… it might be nice to… catch up.”

Nia’s whole face brightened. “Do you want to go camping? Like old times?”

“You remembered,” Ro said with a small smile.

“I did, yeah. Finally.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Since Nia was going to be with Ro for a few days, Din decided he’d be better off finding something to do with his time rather than just wait. Luckily, Ranzar Malk had a job that fit very neatly within their schedule.

And it was only slightly illegal.

“Why do you work with Ran?” Nia asked as she adjusted the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

Din picked up a few extra ration bars from their supply in the hull wall and slipped them into her backpack, as well as a flash grenade. Just to be safe. “He pays. And we need the money.”

She turned around. “The Guild also pays.”

“He pays more.”

He was wearing his gloves so he couldn’t feel her thoughts when she threaded her fingers with his. But he could see them plain on her face anyway.

“You’re disappointed,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I understand survival. But… I don’t know, hopefully someday we can choose between the right thing and the job.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Just please be safe. Don’t let Xi’an stab you.”

“Don’t let Ro stab you,” he replied, making her smile.

“I promise.”

This was the first time in nearly nine months of being together they were going to purposefully part for more than a few hours. As she made to step away, he pulled her back in, close enough to rest the brow of his helmet on hers.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he whispered, even as he reminded himself that they weren’t physically joined at the hip.

She smiled softly and touched his helmet as if she was cupping his cheek. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one apart – the second line of the marriage vows.

Heart surging up into his throat, he reached for his helmet before he could change his mind. Automatically, she closed her eyes. “Wait. Don’t,” he whispered, something deep inside him shaking.

Her eyes opened slowly, surprise drawing them wide as he reached up again. He lost sight of her as he tipped the helmet up just far enough to kiss her good-bye, gently yet meaningfully.

It wasn’t quite an Oath break, right?

Her fingertips brushed over his jaw, his lips. The awe tingling through the connection made him smile, the first one she’d ever seen.

She gasped and pressed a kiss to the bare spot in his facial hair where a beard stubbornly refused to grow. “You have a beautiful smile, Din Djarin,” she whispered, a fingertip brushing his dimple.

He lowered the helmet back into place and she came into view again, her warm smile still on her face. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” he replied, leaning over and opened the hull door.

Sunlight flooded the room as Nia grabbed her staff from its usual resting place. Ro was waiting just outside of the treeline, hands folded behind her back and her own bag at her feet. Her expression softened as Nia came into view.

Nia jogged down the ramp, stopping one last time to wave back at Din, before running to join Ro. They spoke for a few moments before Ro grabbed her bag and they fell into step, heading down the path together.

Din watched them go till Nia disappeared between the trees, already counting the minutes till he could kiss her again as he closed the hull door and flew away.

As Ran’s quick, easy, and not-all-that-illegal job turned out to be none of those things, Din promised himself this was the last time he’d work with this crew. The two of them could make it by with just the Guild from now on. Dodging fang and knife attacks from your supposed partners was not worth the pay bump.

Ignoring offers for drinks with most of the crew (and far more than just drinks with Xi’an), Din immediately grabbed his share and jumped into hyperspace. Ran’s poor planning had made him a few hours later to meet Nia than he’d originally hoped.

Din half-expected her to be waiting by the treeline as he landed in the exact same spot he’d left her in two days ago.

But she wasn’t there.

That was fine. He knew where they were planning to camp, not even half a mile down the path, near the river.

Maybe he could surprise her, he thought as he headed down the trail, fallen leaves squishing underfoot. Huh, they probably got rained on quite a bit.

He heard the babbling of the river first. And soon after the path through the trees widened with the bank, revealing a near panoramic view of the river bend.

It’d be the perfect spot to camp. But he didn’t see any signs of fire pits or sleeping rolls in the softened earth.

No sign of Nia or Ro either.

What he did see, drew him to a full stop.

Nia’s staff laid abandoned in the mud.

He stared at it for a long moment, before looking around. “Nia?” he called, loud enough to be heard in the nearby vicinity. But there was no answer.

He wrenched the staff from the mud, the weapon half-buried as if… as if it’d been left for some time.

“NIA?” he yelled again before searching for the story in the river bank. However, the heavy rain had washed anything useful away, leaving only rivulet trails and puddles behind. Not even his visor could identify footprints.

A black pit opened up in his gut, large enough to swallow him whole.

He ripped off his helmet, breath fogging slightly in the air, and looked around wildly with his own eyes.

“NIA,” he bellowed, voice breaking as it echoed between the spaces in the forest and across the water.

Silence was the only reply.

Nia was gone.

It was several weeks later that Din was back in the Vod’oya headquarters, this time alone. He set up the holo recorder on the table and activated it, stepping back to the foot and trying to pick a place to begin.

“Anella, I have… Something’s happened.”

He looked at the glowing light of the recorder and knew that this wasn’t the right way to do this, for so many reasons. But fear more than Creed kept his helmet on his head.

“Nia’s gone missing,” he said, face screwing up from the stabbing pain of it. “She met with Ro, they were together for two days, and… and she wasn’t there when I returned. I don’t know if Ro did something, or if someone took them both, or…

He shook his head, just barely holding together enough to get out the words. “I have searched everywhere I can think. Ro’s house is abandoned. No one’s been through the school but me. Even Basslan seems to have gone underground, his staff haven’t seen him for months. I’ve thought about putting out a bounty for Nia, but… I don’t want her getting hurt.

“I’m never going to stop looking for her, de ner haat. But I don’t know what to do. And I’m out of credits. When you get this message, if you want to reach me, you can find me on Nevarro. Leave word at the cantina or with Greef Karga.”

He made himself make eye contact with the glowing lens, as if it would make a difference behind his beskar barrier. “I’m sorry, I…” He sucked a shaking breath. “I’m so sorry, Anella.”

And he ended the recording.

There was one last place he hadn’t gone yet for help.

But now with nothing left, and him nearly ready to believe he deserved it, he returned to the Covert.

Visored gazes felt heavy, pressing in on his armor. Did they know? Would they hate him for losing what so few were lucky to find?

He ducked his head and didn’t pause till he reached the armory, sitting down in front of the forge. Hoping – praying – that this would fix… anything. Something.

The Armorer put down her hammer and sat across from him. Even through two barriers of beskar, her gaze was leaden. “What is it you seek?”

Din dropped his view to his lap, shoulders bowing under the weight of Everything. “...My Match. She was taken,” he finally admitted, breath cutting out of him unevenly through his meager remaining control.

“By who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have searched… everywhere.” His control snapped, throat tightened. It was like he suddenly couldn’t breathe for the weight of his cuirass. “She’s… she cannot be found. Even by me.”

“Did she see your face?” she asked calmly.

Her question, in light of everything he’d just told her, everything he’d been living through, everything he’d lost, scalded and immediately scarred.

He stared at her for a moment. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

No. No, it didn’t. It DID NOT MATTER.

Outrage making his hands shake, he wrenched off his helmet, throwing it to the ground with such force it bounced and rolled away.

But the Armorer saw his intent and turned before she saw his face.

It just fueled his rage. He wanted her to see, to take this away from him too.

“She was my Match!” he shouted, standing to his feet. “How was she, above every other living thing in the galaxy, still forbidden from knowing my face?”

The Armorer tipped her helmet slightly, but didn’t look away from the opposite wall. “This Is The Way.”

“It was not The Way for other Mandalorians! She was clan Vard’on; her ancestors were there to ride the Mythosaur. I met her clan! I saw their faces!”

“Some Mandalorians have abandoned the true ways. But you have not yet answered my question. Did she see your face?” she asked again, completely unfazed from his outrage.

He sucked in several shuddering breaths as the cruel truth welled up in his throat.

Nia was his Match. She was bonded so closely to him he felt her emotions. She had agreed to marry him. She wanted to be one when they were together, to be one when they were apart, to share everything, to raise their children as warriors, and yet–

“No. She never knew my face.”

The only sound was his low gasps as he wept for all that had been stolen from his care, stolen because he hadn’t been vigilant enough to protect it. Reckless, careless, and now–

Matchless.

He dropped back onto the bench, head in hands as the truth ran its course through him, leaking out drop by drop, till he was Empty.

Only once he’d grown quiet again, did the Armorer stand and walk calmly to where his helmet had landed. Never once looking at him.

“Even in your hardship, you have been given a blessing.”

Din stared down at his hands, empty and disconnected. “What blessing?” he asked, bitterly.

“The galaxy can take your Match. It can take your parents, your planet. And one day, it will take your life,” she said calmly as she circled around to stand behind him. “But it cannot take your belief.”

She set the helmet down on the bench next to him and continued, “Hold fast. And do not surrender what can never be taken from you, Mandalorian.”

He stared at the helmet for a long while.

If he walked away right now, he would truly have No One. Nothing.

And he would deserve it.

He rested a hand on the top, and the emptiness between his lungs cauterized to a permanent hole. Ragged, but not bleeding. Not anymore.

He picked the helmet and slipped it over his head, seeing the world only through his view screen once more.

“This Is The Way,” the Armorer said.

“This Is The Way,” he repeated.

After all,

What’s a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

End of Part I

Interlude I ; posting soon!

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[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

Prelude - Awaiting

The Masters witness the rising of a seemingly unbreakable wall. Surely, with this -- they find themselves prepared for what lay just beyond.

A Saber watches from beyond -- knowing a rebellion is close.

The crown does not so easily fall.

...The cave's lights slowly faded. Within the fires that spread across the ground, the Wicker Man fell -- and the blue Caster smiled. "...Nice work. That's your Noble Phantasm." "...My..?" The Shielder's eyes widened, lowering her shield as the Caster waved in the rest of our group. Kagekiyo proved to be the first there, followed shortly after by Olga Marie -- then, our other Caster, who ran in as best he could. "What was its name?! Mash, did you remember?" Olga naturally wasted not a moment before peppering Mash with questions, the latter taking a step back to get a bit of breathing room so she could even think of a response. "I-I don't know! I don't really have any idea what my Noble Phantasm's name is, but..." "--Then why not give it a name?" The blue Caster cut in, tapping Olga lightly on the head with his staff. Plonk. "If it means the same to you, it'll probably work," he continued, "though probably not as well as it could be." "A name..." The young girl glanced to one side, furrowing her brow in thought. Olga opened her mouth, but was interrupted just as quickly with another plonk. "...Why not... Lord Chaldeas? If I'm going to be protecting Chaldea, then..." "Lord Chaldeas it is." The blue Caster pulled his staff back with a smile, the bottom making impact with the ground beneath. "With what I just saw, we might just stand a chance. If we keep down this tunnel, we should be free to get to Saber. She's been standing there for some time, now -- my bet's that she's still there." Ritsuka gritted their teeth, but only nodded to the Caster. "Mash -- let's go. Stay on guard, too. We don't know what's going to happen." "Right, Senpai." Taking the initiative, Mash moved just in front of Ritsuka -- the latter taking my arm and pulling me beside them, with Kagekiyo following suit. "Cadence, stay behind Mash." "I was already planning on it, rest assured." My answer seemed to be enough to placate the Master, their shoulders relaxing. "...So, we just keep going through this tunnel?" "Yeah. We're too far away for Saber to notice us, so we got lucky with this safe ground. Just keep a gentle step, and we'll be fine." ...After that, a period of silence overwhelmed us, as we followed the blue Caster's lead. One foot in front of the other -- on a path down to this 'Saber.' A being so strong that everyone around her would fear her -- a being that made even someone like Ritsuka doubt themselves in an instant. I'd have wondered, 'what kind of person is this Saber?' -- --but the beam fired down the cave, tearing the Caster to shreds before our eyes, answered the question in a moment. -- 'They're approaching.' A new ally. Allies, to the Caster. 'I thought they'd have died in the mess of Shadow Servants.' Allies do that to you. They keep you alive. The blade in my hands ground itself into the dust-covered dirt beneath me. I spin it carefully with my hand -- to relieve the stress. 'They're smarter than I took them for. No wonder they're a Caster.' And no doubt they'd be looking for me. For the one who helps hold this world together. But when would they arrive -- would they ever arrive?' [Yes.] The voice. The voice resounding in my head. It reads to me of stories I had never yet heard of. It reads to me a kingdom I have never yet heard of. A perfect world, that comes only with the incineration of humanity. Of black stars that hang in the heavens, where the shadows of men's thoughts lengthen in the afternoon. [Eleven o'clock. You will strike true, the most important of them all.] Their voice, like a horrible ringing in my head, yet every word was clear and succinct. 'I understand.' A better kingdom awaited, if I fired this blow. My blade, risen to the stars, and my voice, spilling from my throat. 'Iron hammer of the hollow king. Turnover/Reverse/Overturn/Change the aurora.' A black light, the opposite, sucked it all in. My eyes settled upon the tunnel. 'Swallow the light -- Promised blade of victory, Excalibur Morgan!' -- Could anything have remained from a strike like that?

A shimmering blue wall was arisen, blocking off the remnants of the dark, all-consuming beam that had just previous threatened to devour us all. But the blue Caster -- ... ...Within the fires, the orange-red lights around us, even the remaining bloodstain couldn't be seen at all. All that remained, the wooden staff the man used, was broken -- ashed, charred, turned a sharp black and shattered into four separate pieces. As the blue light faded, I took care to collect these pieces -- ...Rather, my body. Even trying to pull myself back, respecting what remained, my body moved on its own, and picked up the leftover top of the staff. As it were, I were choking. The smoke, the smell of charred corpse and boiling blood as golden light enveloped and dispersed what remained, had me only moments away from falling to my knees and suffocating. There was no romantics to it -- hardly even a last word. The Caster was simply gone -- evaporated. Erased from this tunnel as though he were never there to begin with. I found myself only stopped by a hand upon my shoulder -- turning around, I found the eyes of another Master staring back at me. Panicked footsteps could be heard about me, but not something I could understand, or listen to. Mildly widened eyes, their body shaking -- but the soft smile remaining. "...It'll be okay, Cadence. He's a Servant -- he's not dead." ... ...They pushed me forwards past it. Past the Caster -- what remained. "...Just don't think about it. Keep moving. If we stop for too long, we're going to be dead, too."

'Keep moving.' I found my mind repeating those words -- latching onto them. The blood on the ground-- 'Keep moving.' --The piece of his staff, rattling in my pocket-- 'Keep moving.' ...That was all I could do. Claws wrapped around my throat, and every second I spent not walking was a second they could wrap fully around my throat -- and cause my legs to crumple, and my eyes to shut. 'Keep moving.' Surely, my cheeks were growing damp again. My eyes felt as though they were burning in the heat -- my teeth gritting. "Keep moving." Encouragement, whispered in my ear -- and, suddenly, another hand on my shoulder. ... Even not looking over to see who was there, the grip on my shoulder was firm -- stronger than Ritsuka's previous. Kagekiyo, surely, was there -- even if they would hardly care of my struggle, being a Genji-killer, they still remained. ...One step, in front of the other. One step, in front of the other, until the environment cleared. Before us -- a blonde woman, in a stark black dress. Red streaks laced the blade she held in one hand, and the mask covering her face, her eyes. She spoke not a word, only stepping forward. Raising her blade, yelling something loud yet inconceivable -- but suddenly, slamming her blade down, and being blocked by -- "Genji. Your orders, Master." The woman's blade struggled, caught between the blades of the Avenger -- forcibly pushing upwards, to catch the knight off balance, only to have their next strike blocked by the woman. The chaos, the flurry, was sudden and immediate -- and yet again, I found myself knowing that any order to retreat would be promptly and succinctly ignored. And yet, could we retreat? We had nowhere to return to, not until this woman -- and whatever lay after -- were defeated. We had nowhere to hide, for that beam she fired would reduce us to ashes, like the Caster before us. Behind us was nothing but death. In front of us lay death, with a light of hope behind it. ...The Caster wanted her gone. "...Master." The words of the Avenger broke my train of thought. "Do you want to get revenge on the Genji, Master?" '...And what other choice would I have?' 'What other choice would I have but to fight?' There was something, running through my veins. Placing it was impossible -- it was more, further, than fear. The beast clasped its claws around my neck, pulled down as hard as it could, but there was no longer anywhere to fall. It was either I lay down and die -- or make the Caster's work worth it, short though it was, and fight. ...My ring, settled on my finger, shimmered at once -- draining something of me. The blade the Saber blocked so eloquently, now made them begin to shake -- made their defences begin to fail. "...If this is the Genji, then they won't live through this. Avenger -- fight! Ritsuka, provide backup by any means necessary!" My eyes moved to the Master beside me, who widened their eyes as they looked into mine -- before grinning, and stepping forward, Mash running forward in tow. Behind her, the Caster we had remaining shook off some droplets from his head, and stepped forward -- raising his hands, clapping them together. "Master! I... I can provide backup support, but I'm going to need a moment! Please protect me!" The young boy called out to Ritsuka, who gasped slightly -- but, their gaze toughening, they nodded and glanced to me. "You heard the kid." "Right!" At the scene of the fight, the Saber's defence broke -- the woman jumping backwards to avoid the frantic, crazed slices of Kagekiyo before her. "--Entering combat!" But one wrong step to the right led the Saber directly into the path of Mash, whose shield proved a small bit more difficult to block thanks to its blunt force. The Shielder, giving all of her strength, leapt forward and swiped leftwards with the broad end of her shield, sending the Saber flying backwards; landing on her feet only by miracle, steadying herself with a hand.

Kagekiyo, in turn, leapt to the left, then directly forwards -- with a slash forwards, only blocked barely by the Saber's blade, she used the other to strike at the Saber's good arm. "--?!" Yet, swordplay only proved so useful when the Saber was willing to punch you directly in the face. Sending the Avenger back some distance, Mash ran in only just in time to shield them from a forward slash courtesy of the Saber. Yet, each noticed they were now listening to a chant. "There once was a couple whose child's name meant 'limitless life--'" The Avenger's blade faltered, a moment, but Mash's defence gave her enough time to recover. "Lasting twenty billion years, blessed by the sea, the fish--" "A chant. So this is your plan." The Saber changed courses -- setting eyes on the child, running towards them. Yet, the Avenger blocked their advance with another onslaught, their face stained with a wide and crazed grin. "If we can't beat you fairly, Genji, we will have to improvise. Given your attack on the man before, that's only fair." "And in the waters, or the clouds, or in the wind--" "You may try, fool." Blades clashed, came together, came apart -- one blackened blade, deflecting and clashing against two thin curved blades, the snarls of Avenger and Saber alike clouding the air about as the Shielder positioned herself in front of the Caster. "--with a home where there is food and a place to sleep--" The three clashing blades came apart, the Avenger now beginning to laugh, as the Saber gritted her teeth. The Avenger before her knew full well what would occur if the Saber had any breathing room -- that beam would destroy them all. And yet-- "Iron hammer of the hollow king. Overturn the aurora." ...She would try, anyways. But wasn't that what Kagekiyo could fight best? For Kagekiyo would never die. "...The everyday, now, is simply a dream." "--and the energy of the Yabukouji, with longetivity like King Shuuringan of Paipo--" The temperature spiked -- a buzzing, eternally hearable in my head. As though something were being supplanted for something else -- a backdoor opening in my mind. Yet, too, the light itself began to shake, as Saber rose her blade. "...Yes -- everything in this world, all the Genji reaches, must burn!" "--and longetivity like his wife, Guurindai, and their children Ponpokopii and Ponpokonaa's--" The temperature rises. There's a screaming in my head. There's two suns -- two suns setting behind the lakes-- "After all this time, I finally have my shot!" "SWALLOW THE LIGHT!" "--Long lived fortune!" ...

...Everyone could hear the buzzing in their minds. I knew it from the looks in their eyes -- their halted breaths. All around us froze -- the temperature, threatening to boil us alive, the light itself flickering, being consumed. But the boy remained. "...Do you want to know my name?" ...There's a screaming in my mind -- their minds. 'Listen.' 'Listen.'

'Listen.'

'Listen.'

"So be it." The young boy approached the Saber, calmly -- past the fire, the sure temperatures of Kagekiyo's blade, and past the shield of Mash that kept us all safe. "...My name is Jugemu. To be specific..." "Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke." 'Listen.' 'Listen.' 'Speak.' "Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?!" The words fell out of Saber's mouth before she could think -- the light suddenly shaking, and faltering, and coming to an end. 'Listen.' My very muscles halted. I could barely even will myself to breathe beyond a quiet, quiet breath. 'His name..? J--' 'Speak.' His name-- Suddenly, I found this urge. This urge deep within me. A spike drilling a hole into my head. I could hear it, burrowing deep into my mind. Like a drill, like a syringe, to extract my brain itself.

'Speak.'

With each repetition of the screaming voice's command, it grew harder to ignore. And the words came tumbling out. "Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?! That's your true name..?!" I screamed it without meaning to. I covered my mouth -- I tried to -- but my body no longer responded. "That's who we summoned..?! We summoned Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?!" Ritsuka fell, faltered, their words sputtering out as though it were a chant. Their eyes shuddered where they stood, their mouth twitching as though withholding some horrible scream.

'Listen.' The Saber, however, became the first to scream. She fell to her knees - she tried to -- but it was hardly enough. "This... This... This Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?! You..! I know you, you..!" The child grinned -- his eyes widening, gaze sharpening, before he broke into laughter. A mist formed around his feet, as he placed a hand to the face of the Avenger. "You..! Avenger, who knows my tale. Finish off this maddened woman." 'Listen.' The Avenger only responded with a grin -- stepping forward, as though their muscles now returned to normal in a moment. "...Yes... After all this time, as I was saying -- I finally have my shot." Their mask cracked, and shattered -- and the 'Kagekiyo' separated. Thousands of them, surrounding the Saber. Perhaps the Saber had already broken, her mind already endlessly repeating the name of the Caster. Perhaps there was a tiny, tiny bit of sanity that remained in the dead eyes, the kneeling physique, of the Saber whose body broke -- and whose mind seemed destroyed. But, unable to speak -- all she could now do was listen.

"Shogyomujo -- Joshahissui!"

And in that moment-- --a technique most indescribable, a Servant whose powers were impossible to understand-- --nothing could have prepared the Saber to survive the strike that followed the madness.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 15: The Truth

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 3,000

Chapter Summary: Teki finally gets answers.

A/N:  The beginning of this chapter turned out decidedly more Mockingjay than I intended ... that wasn’t on purpose, but I guess it’s fine. Also, we’re nearing the end, guys! I can’t believe we’ve only got three chapters left :(

Thanks for reading!

TW: Mentions of violence, child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy @whatafuckingdumbass

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Teki had wings.

Big, beautiful wings, more ornate than any butterfly, sprouting from her back and extending high above her head, a kaleidoscope of different colors swirling around her as she soared higher and higher into the paint-splattered sky. She flew with the ease of one who had flown all her life, drifting down the air currents and landing to rest on a gossamer cloud, so high in the atmosphere that when she peered over the edge she couldn’t even see the ground.

It’s real! she thought as she floated so far above the world, I’ll have to tell Brant!

For a while, she was safe on her cloud, breathing in the crisp air of a world beyond concerns, her gorgeous wings basking in the glow of a billion little stars.

Until she wasn’t.

Without warning, the cloud dissipated from beneath her and she was tumbling head over heels down to the fast approaching terrain, nothing to grab on to, nothing to stop it. Her wings turned to dust at her side. Gravity cackled as her final scream ripped from her lungs.

Her eyes popped open. Her vision was awash with a burning orange light, but she didn’t need to see to feel the cold metal pressing around her neck. In a rush, she remembered Osvald’s hand at her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. She clawed at the metallic piece, gasping in a frenzy, but it didn’t budge.

What did he do? What did he put on me?

A figure appeared in her periphery, hands reaching out towards her throat. Teki shrieked—or she tried to, at least. The sound that came from her mouth was rough and weak, more like a harsh gasp than a proper scream, but the effort of it seemed to tear her vocal chords to shreds. She coughed uncontrollably, even as she writhed away from the reaching hands.

“Lady Tekla, calm down, you’re safe.” The figure held her wrists down, pulling them away from her neck. “Don’t try to speak. Just breathe, my lady. You’re in the healing ward. You’re safe.”

Gulping, Teki laid back. She was in the healing ward, wasn’t she?  She recognized the golden lights on the ceiling. The woman sitting next her was draped in blue robes, smiling reassuringly. But… why was she here? In all the times Teki had gone to the healers after something Osvald had done, she had never stayed longer than a few hours. Her hands returned to the metal thing at her neck.

“What—” she rasped before the healer hushed her once again.

“Don’t try to talk,” she said firmly. “Not for a little while. Not until your throat has been healed. Your injuries were severe enough that we were concerned about overwhelming your body if we attempted to heal them all at once. We decided to focus on your ribcage first.”

Teki’s hands flew to her abdomen. The burning pain that set her chest on fire was nowhere to be found. She heaved a sigh of relief.

“We’re going to give you a bit of time to recover from the exhaustion of the healing before we work on your neck,” the woman continued. “Until then, you’ll have to wear this brace, to keep things from getting worse. You understand that?”

Teki jerked her head, as much of a nod as she could manage. A part of her brain still felt as if it were floating in the clouds. Had that all been a dream? She couldn’t wait to tell Brant about—

Brant!

She shot up again, this time coughing out her brother’s name. Once more, the healer shushed her, pushing her back into the pillow.

“Brant is fine,” she assured. “He just had a bit of a bump on his head, but he recovered .” She pulled the covers back over Teki’s chest. “You’re very lucky your stepfather got there when he did.”

Teki froze. What?

The healer didn’t seem to notice her bewilderment. She only patted her knee. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” she said. “Try to get some sleep.”

She watched the woman in blue walk away with a tightness wrapped around her heart. Of course her mother would never tell the truth about what happened inside their apartment. But Teki could only ponder what possible story she had told instead.

Luckily, this wasn’t a mystery for long. Her mother came to visit that afternoon, seemingly with the sole purpose of coaching her on what to say happened.

“You opened the apartment door to find an intruder,” she whispered huskily into Teki’s ear. “He demanded you bring him all the jewelry in the apartment. When you refused, he attacked. You screamed, Osvald ran in, and rescued you and Brant. The intruder fled. You understand that?”

Teki only stared blankly into the distance. It was just a lie, just another lie she had to tell to maintain her mother’s dream. Really, it was no different than what she had been doing her whole life. But there was a sour taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with her injuries. She wanted her to paint Osvald as the hero. She wanted her to be thankful for him, to praise him…

Her mother bristled at her silence.

“You realize how important this is?” she hissed, leaning in. “If the royal court thought there was something wrong with our family, they’d throw us out. Void your marriage contract, take our apartment, and abandon us. Do you know what I’ve had to do to get us to this point?”

Empty vials flashed through her mind.

I have an idea.

Áslaug huffed. “Are you truly so selfish that you’d destroy all of our lives—you’d destroy your brother’s life—just because you don’t want to do something?”

Teki turned away, as much as she could with the brace. Including Brant was low and her mother damn well knew it. Had she always been this manipulative, and Teki was only now seeing it?

With a sigh, her mother rose. “I have to go,” she said emotionlessly. “I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

Teki watched her glide from the room without a sound, the picture of dignity. There was something different in the air, something heavy. Even as Teki tried to relax into her pillow, it weighed on her chest, pulling her deeper and deeper away from the golden lights, until the glow of the healing ward had been replaced with something far more prismatic.

The Rainbow Bridge still gleamed at night, but it was a quieter sort of gleaming. There was no horseback riding this time, no princely arm wrapped around her waist, just Teki and her unhurried step, her shift fluttering around her knees in the spectral breeze.

The path to Himinbjorg was miles long, yet Teki crossed it barefoot in a heartbeat. A figure stood in the center of the golden dome, a horned silhouette that seemed not to have budged one bit since the last time she had walked through those doors.

You’re not asking the right question, he had said. She had stormed out in frustration. What question could he want? What question could possibly be more direct than “where is he?”

But now, she understood. When Heimdall turned, his armor glittering with the reflection of the moon-kissed night, she spoke before he could even open his mouth.

How did my father die?

The gatekeeper said nothing. He lifted the great sword and settled it into the mouth of the platform as the lightning crackled. Around them, the Bifrost whirred to life, burning brighter, brighter, brighter…

Teki blinked when the light holding her in place dissipated without warning, washing her surroundings away with it.

She was standing in the living room. Her living room, on the first story of her family’s apartment. And yet, it was different. The olive curtains hadn’t yet been changed to garnet, a decision that followed Teki’s engagement announcement. The couch hadn’t yet been reupholstered. Instead of her mother’s liquor cabinet, a piano lay nestled in the corner.

The dinner table was set for two. On one end, her mother fussed with the cutlery, her silky hair running down her back in an elegant braid. She ran her fingers across the rim of her goblet, expression distant and unreadable. She perked up when the stairs creaked, someone shuffling down from the upstairs bedrooms. The man turned the corner with a casual stride, pushing the hair out of his muddy brown eyes with hands that Teki had once covered with hers, long ago when she would curl up in his lap on the piano bench and breathe in his soft melodies. Her heart caught in her throat.

Daddy…

She tried to run to him, hug him, call to him, please, but she remained glued in her spot on the other side of the table, her voice frozen in her throat. The scene before her had already played out. Teki could only watch.

Still, her eyes burned with pinpricks of tears as he stood just beyond her reach. Daddy, her mind cried as her father surveyed the room, Daddy, I’m right here.

Steinn didn’t hear her. He stopped just before the table, eyebrows raised as he studied the display before him. Her mother beamed up at him with her angelic grin.

“Good evening,” she smiled.

He hesitated for a moment, searching her face for... something. Teki wasn’t sure what. Nor could she tell whether he found it there.

Still, he sank into his seat. “Good evening.”

Áslaug reached for the plate of bread without taking her eyes off her husband. “Is she in bed?” she asked conversationally.

He nodded. “Yes. Fast asleep already.” A smile ghosted at his lips as he cut his meat, mirrored on Teki’s face. Me! He’s talking about me! “It was a big day for her.”

Her mother shook her head. “You spend too much time in town with her.”

“At least I spend time with her.”

They lapsed into silence. Steinn fumbled around with his food, very pointedly avoiding his wife’s gaze. Áslaug didn’t move. She seemed to be waiting for something.

When that something never came, she inhaled with artificial cheeriness. “How’s your writing coming along?”

“Well enough.” He took a gulp of his wine, then with a sigh turned to look at her. “Áslaug, you’re wasting your time.”

She cocked her head, still smiling. “Am I?”

“I’m not signing off on that proposal.”

Teki’s mother huffed. “I don’t understand why not. You’re always so concerned with Tekla’s well-being. I can’t imagine anything that would better safeguard her future than a marriage to the future king.”

He groaned. “You want to force a lifelong role on to her before she can even write her own name—”

“You’re being dramatic!” she snapped, waving her hands above her head. Teki flinched. “What if she wants it? What if she wants to be queen? What if we’re depriving her of a dream?”

“She’s a child. Right now, her dreams consist of flower picking and extra slices of cake.” Steinn rolled his eyes, taking another sip of wine. “She’s not capable of making that decision yet, and I have no intention of making it for her.”

“You are making it for her! You’re taking away her chance at royalty—”

“And you’re taking away her ability to control her destiny. Are you truly so desperate to mother a queen that you’ll run the risk of forcing her into a position she doesn’t want, married to a man she doesn’t love, trapped for the rest of her life?” He laughed bitterly, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I thought you of all people would understand what that’s like.”

Áslaug glared at him. “My father worked hard to get this offer from Odin. Do you know how many strings he had to pull, how many favors he had to cash in to—”

“I couldn’t care less.” Her father’s cheeks were flushed. He wiped his brow again before continuing with conviction. “She’s my daughter. I won’t agree to it.”

“Very well.” The statement was resigned, but her mother stared at him with a sort of barely masked excitement. His hands were trembling.

“Are you feeling all right, Steinn?” she asked, leaning forward delicately on her knuckles.

Her father looked up abruptly. “What?”

“How are you feeling?” Áslaug leaned her head to the side. Her voice was still innocent, but her smile was quickly morphing into a smirk. Teki’s stomach gurgled with dread. “A tad warm, perhaps? Chills? A bit of a headache?”

Steinn’s eyes widened. He jerked away from the table. “What did you do?”

“Nothing much.” She pulled the empty vial from within her dress, rolling it between her fingers. “Just gave your wine a bit of flavoring. Embers of Frost. It’s all the rage, I’m told. The woman I got it from said it would be lethal in half an hour.”

It seemed to dawn at him all at once. In a panic, her father stumbled to his feet, knocking the chair over in his haste to reach the door. Teki whipped back to her mother, who seemed unbothered in her seat, a smug grin on her face.

The door swung open before Steinn had the chance to twist the knob. Teki’s blood ran cold as Osvald stepped into the room, calm as can be as he blocked the exist, his eyes glittering like volcanic rocks. Her father lurched backwards.

“Steinn,” Áslaug called out from the dinner table. Her voice dripped with false regard. “I’d like to introduce a dear friend of mine, Lord Osvald Audinson.”

Her father surveyed his successor with wild eyes, sweat dripping down his temples. “Which one are you?” he asked.

Osvald grabbed his shoulders. “The only one that matters.”

Teki nearly screamed when her stepfather jerked him to the side, but instead of tossing him into the wall, he simply steered him back into the table and plopped him into his seat like a rag doll. Osvald remained standing behind the chair, a villainous snake posed to strike. Steinn’s collar was soaked. He shook profusely as his wife stood.

“Now, my sweet husband, I do have the antidote right here”— Áslaug brought out the burgundy vial, shaking it between her fingers like a toy rattle. Teki’s father lunged for it, but Osvald yanked him back, holding him to the chair—“which I would be quite happy to share with you if you would just be so kind as to take my dictation for me.”

He was gulping air now. “What dictation?”

Áslaug pushed aside the dinner plates, sliding an inkwell and a sheet of blank paper before him. “We’re separating, darling. You’re dissolving this marriage right here and now so we can both move on with our lives.”

“All this for a queen?” he panted, leaning against the table for support. “You’ve gone mad!”

“And you’re going to be dead soon if you don’t do what I say.” She tapped the page. Reluctantly, Steinn took the pen in his shaking hand. “Now, write this: I, Steinn Kjellson…” She went on, reading from a folded page in her hand as he struggled to keep up with her words. When she got to the part addressed directly to Teki, he stiffened.

She rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

“You—” he choked on his words. “Áslaug, please. You think about her—Teki—you take care of her—”

He sounded so broken. Teki tried to reach out to him again, blinking the tears from her eyes. How many times had her mother tried to tell her that he left because he didn’t love her? Because he didn’t want to see her again? And here he was, even at the end, begging for her safety and her well-being.

I’m sorry Daddy, she sobbed in her silent prison. I love you so much. I’m sorry. She prayed that somehow, he could hear her.

But he only groaned when Osvald smacked the back of his head. “You’re running out of time, friend.”

Straining, Steinn finished the last few lines.

Teki’s mother scanned it, nodding approvingly. “Good. Now sign it.”

He did so, a scribbled signature that left him absolutely breathless.

“There.” His skin was slick with sweat, his chest heaving up and down as he collapsed into the chair. “The antidote. Please.”

She turned the vial between her fingertips, picking at the wax holding the cork in place. A horrible smile stretched across her cheeks.

Teki knew what was coming, but still she shook with silent sobs. Don’t do it. Mama, please don’t do it…

“I think not.”

Steinn shrieked in horror. “Áslaug!”

“You made your bed, darling.” Her mother turned to walk away. “Now sleep in it.”

Her father sat there for a moment, eyes bugging out of his head. One last gasp, he lunged for her mother across the table. He didn’t even make it out of his seat before Osvald had him in a chokehold.

Teki couldn’t look away fast enough.

She screamed at the sickening snap, at the thud that echoed through her bones as her father fell to floor. She was still screaming when the scene faded away into the night as she came to, thrashing in a knotted mess of bedsheets and nightclothes, her throat burning something horrible as the harsh sound ripped from within.

They killed him! They killed him!

Besides her, someone made a gentle shushing noise she barely heard over the sound of the blood rushing to her head. Cold hands hovered at her side, holding her flailing arms to the mattress.

“Teki,” a familiar voice whispered, tinged with fear. “Teki, it’s all right. It was only a dream. You’re safe.”

The sound cut through her panic like a silver knife. Teki turned to the right, wondering if she was still somehow trapped in her mind. But there was nothing imaginary about the emerald eyes that shone through the dark.

Her heart leapt.

Loki.