#where its just the three of them trying (and failing) to parent him

[sheepdotpng]

peepaw jogo ft. baby mahito (they found him in a wet cardboard box all alone)

[delulujuls]

young, dumb & bwoke | ln4

hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!

summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was

warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos

pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)

Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.

China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.

The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.

When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.

"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.

"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."

Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.

"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."

"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."

"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."

At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.

When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.

"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.

"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."

Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.

The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.

"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.

Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.

Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.

Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.

“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”

Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."

"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"

"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."

"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.

"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.

Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.

"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.

"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."

The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.

"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."

"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."

"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."

He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.

When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.

"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."

The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.

"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."

The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.

"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.

Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.

"What the fuck?"

"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."

He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.

"And don't puke in the shower!"

[thicctails]

I need more info on the get better children au, especially about when Bill shows up.

*rubs hands together* I finally got some extra time to draw up some new art for this AU, so let's give it some substance >:3 Long post below the read more with extra art :D

Before Euclydia was destroyed, Euclid and Scalene Cipher were some of its most powerful members. Bill saying that everyone loved him as a baby was true for a time; children aren't born very often, and the Ciphers are considered to almost be royalty. It wasn't until Bill's mutation became apparent that people began to shun him. If he had been born to any other family, he likely would have been abandoned.

Though neither Euclid nor Scalene could really comprehend the concept of something being "up", let alone what "stars" could possibly be, both of them used their status to try and find any scrap of forbidden information, hoping that they could find an answer, could find some confirmation that their son wasn't crazy, and didn't need to be blinded by his "medicine."

It was this research that eventually saved their lives. Having the knowledge that it was possible for things to, hypothetically, exist in a three dimensional plane allowed them to pool their powers and create 3D forms for themselves when Euclydia began to burn, pulling themselves off the 2D plane like a sticker being peeled off a page. It wasn't a smooth transition in the slightest, and the flames managed to damage parts of their bodies before they managed to fully free themselves. The rest of their power went into escaping their collapsing reality, and when all was said and done, they were left near catatonic and floating in the space between time and space for many, many years.

They don't really start to recover until a certain frilly guy upstairs nudges them into a new, stable dimension. This one is almost entirely 3D, and inhabited by creatures that look completely alien to the Euclydians. Creatures called humans.

They meet Dipper and Mabel not long after, and the two triangles attach themselves to the babies, doing their best to care for them in their weakened states when their young, unprepared parents fail to be adequate caretakers. Being 2D is far easier for them, so they stick to the walls like shadows and find ways to speak to the twins, slipping into videos and pictures, music and books, their forms changing slightly to match whatever media they slipped into. They teach Dipper and Mabel their colours, shapes, ABC's, ect, comfort them when they get sad or scared, and once they're old enough, how to do basic things like getting themselves food and water when they get left alone too long.

Neither Pines parent really notices their children making grabby hands and babbling at open air at first, though they do become a bit concerned when years pass and they still stare at walls and empty corners like there's something there.

Eventually, as we all know, the Pines twins get shipped off to a sleepy town in Oregon, and Euclid and Scalene are, of course, coming along to watch over their little stars. However, they become deeply uncomfortable when they start to see visages of their son carved into every room of the twin's temporary home.

It doesn't take long for the show's antics to start, but Grunkle Stan gets involved in the twins adventures far earlier because during The Inconveniecing, Euclid uses his ability to manipulate televisions to play one of those old PSA's on loop until he gets spooked enough to actually check on the twins, only to find them missing.

Eventually, through the help of Scalene using a radio to drag up an old advert for the Dusk 2 Dawn, he figures out where they are and arrives just in time to see the tail end of their ghostly encounter. Unable to deny his knowledge of Gravity Falls' weirdness, he and the twins have their Season 1 finale talk that night, and Dipper shows Stan Journal 3, which leads to all three of them searching for Journal 2 (Stan doesn't reveal the portal yet)

Bill gets summoned by Gideon like in Canon, but things veer wildly off course when, upon entering Stan's mind, Mabel asks him if he knows Euclid or Scalene. He freezes up upon hearing the names of his parents, and he immediately calls off the deal with Gideon, ripping himself out of Stan's Dreamscape. Before he can process what happened, he comes face to face with someone he's only seen in daymares for the past trillion years

Bill dips the fuck out once he realizes he's not hallucinating, disappearing to Axolotl knows where to do fun, productive things such as: scream, cry, break shit, sob on the floor, drink until the teeth in his eye ache, stare at the space between stars for days on end, and interrogate every single one of his henchmaniacs to see if they spiked his drink.

Mans has absolutely zero clue on how to navigate this situation, eventually settling on stalking the Pines because he genuinely cannot think of any possible way to approach his (apparently alive????) parents. How do you go about atoning for the extinction of your entire species?

Bill Cipher has never been one to do things for others for any other reason than to get something back, but he figures the best place to start is by protecting these fleshy human young that his parents seem so attached to.

Wait, would that make them siblings? Axolotl, he sure hopes not.

[bayjaruchel]

Strawberry Blond

－－－

Pairing: Peeta Mellark/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Late one night, you get a call. (4.7k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

－－－

You know that your relationship can never be normal. 

Even now, when you technically should have peace of mind— and you're out of the arena, out of the Games— there's still the ugly truth that lies beneath it all. The Victor's Village is beautiful in comparison to the rest of District Twelve, but because of the reason why you earned a residence here, you're not sure if you'll ever truly enjoy it. Brick houses with plenty of room, and yet yours is still far too empty, even if you have your family to keep you company. 

Peeta lives alone in his. 

There's always smoke coming from the chimney, and he keeps most, if not all of the lights on. The only room that occasionally has its lights off is his, which is on the second floor. You've woken up in the middle of the night many times and glimpsed the shining evidence that he's still awake. It's not like you get perfect sleep yourself— but you worry, sometimes. 

You do visit him, sometimes. But you've never knocked on his door when it's nighttime. You're not entirely sure why that is; maybe it's because you're afraid of what the cool silence will bring. Maybe it's too intimate. Neither of you are strangers to intimacy, and you've definitely maintained a little of that, but … There's still a certain distance. Away from the cameras, you still struggle to discern what's real and what's not. 

The way he looks at you is certainly real. 

You don't know if you'll ever feel exactly the same way towards him. 

Sure, you do like him. A lot. He makes it easy. He's the type of guy that you could bring home to your parents. He's the type of guy that one would want to come home to every day. Of course, he's a little more reserved, and his eyes are duller, but— he's still Peeta. He's still the baker's boy. Deep down, he'll never lose what made you— and all of the Capitol— fall in love with him. 

Is it really love, though? Or is it just admiration? 

It's something that you think about a lot. You've never said those three words to him when not in front of an audience. And he knows that on those specific occasions, it wasn't real. It was just an act. Maybe when he kissed you, he wasn't acting. Maybe when he looked at you and said those lovely things to you, he wasn't acting. 

You can dream. You can hope. 

However, most of your actual dreams nowadays are just nightmares.  

No golden boy is holding you, shielding you from the awful weather. There's no bright, happy future in which everything turned out right. And there's none of those strange, albeit interesting dreams where your house is upside down and your teacher at school is telling you that somehow, you've suddenly graduated and you're being sent off to the Capitol to become one of them. 

Instead, there's just fire. 

Tonight, you dream of fire. 

Burning bodies that fall from the highest trees. You can vaguely make out who they are— there's a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach, a primal guilt. Everything around you is blazing, and you know you should try and get out, but your feet are frozen, rooted to the spot. You can't move, even as the flames begin to lick around your ankles. Even if you did run, you wouldn't be able to escape. This has been a long time coming, hasn't it? 

Despite the almost blinding brightness emanating from the fire, everything else is foggy and dark. The only thing you can focus on is the corpses, the trees, and everything coming down around you. Someone shouts your name, but it's muffled like you're underwater. You fail to register it fast enough. 

A scream, crystal-clear. 

You whip around, and there it is. The evidence of your failure. You're helpless to do anything— you can only watch— more screaming, more yelling, more pleads for help— 

There is so, so much blood— 

You're awake, and the blistering heat is gone. 

Gasping, you sit up, struggling for breath. It keeps catching in your throat. Your heart's pounding at a pace that makes your head spin. Dizzy, disorienting. But it used to be worse than this. 

At least you don't wake up sobbing anymore. 

This is still awful, though. Trembling, you wrap your arms around yourself, attempting to regain control. In, out. In, out. Your lungs shudder with the effort, but you keep going. Despite the comfortable warmth of the house, there's still goosebumps prickling up and down your bare skin. Your arms. Your neck. The sheets are tangled around your waist and legs; you almost feel trapped. 

There's no point in closing the curtains, since virtually nobody is in the streets, and the other inhabitants of the Village couldn't possibly look through your windows. When you glance out of the one nearest to your bed, it's almost pitch-black outside. There are no street lamps, after all. You try to focus on the cold, empty houses to distract yourself. 

Finally, your breath slows. Your pulse calms. 

You're still shaking, faintly, but your knees don't give out when you detangle yourself from your blankets and slip out of bed. You consider that a minor victory. 

Taking care not to make too much noise, you head downstairs. The polished stone is cold underneath your feet, but it's grounding, in a way. It settles you back down to earth. For a short while, you frequently lost your way due to the sheer size of the house, but now you know the quickest route to the kitchen by heart. Even when half-asleep, you know exactly where to go. 

The light flicks on with a quiet buzz when you gently press the switch. 

Quietly, you wonder if the ultimate prize for winning the Games was running water. It's cold, as it splashes over your fingers and into the basin. There are plenty of pristine, artisan glasses and whatnot in the overhead cabinets— probably made in District One— but you always reach for the mugs you had before. The ones with a couple of cracks and dents littering their bodies— evidence of their long lifespans. 

You lean against the counter as you take a long gulp of water. It's pleasant, the feeling pooling low in your chest. 

The silence used to be unnerving, but now, you welcome it with open arms. 

You take another, smaller sip from your mug. Maybe you'll be able to sleep for another few hours. Until the sun rises, at least. Then, you can take a walk. You can wander around all you like here, provided that you don't stray too far. Regardless, you're sure nobody will be too concerned about that. Haymitch is the sole man responsible for the lax rules concerning the victors. 

You're still not sure if you like him or not. 

Slowly, you finish your drink. But, just as you're ready to set it into the sink and head back upstairs—

—the phone's ringing. 

You can hear it pretty clearly, even if it's muffled. 

Who could be calling at this hour? Furrowing your brow, you put down the mug and start heading down the hallway, towards the study. You're well aware that Haymitch tore his phone out of the wall ages ago, so it couldn't be him. Nobody from your District calls you, either. And if you get any calls from outside the District, they're usually during the daytime. Not at two-ish in the morning. The Capitol may be invasive, but they're not that invasive. They need their beauty rest, you figure.  

So, taking all of that into consideration, that only leaves— 

"Peeta?" You mutter, upon picking up the phone. 

There's a beat of silence. 

"Hello," he replies. 

It's a bit hard to tell over the line, but he sounds nearly as groggy as you. Delicately, you shut the door of the study behind you with a quiet click. Just in case. 

"Is something wrong?" You allow yourself to be a little louder, now that there's a barrier between you and the rest of the house. "Couldn't sleep?" 

"Something like that." There's a slight rustling. "I mean— nothing new, right?" Even though you know he meant it as a joke, the grim truth makes it fall flat. 

Still, you breathe out a quiet laugh. "Nothing's changed." Affixing your gaze on one of the chairs sitting around the mahogany table, you fiddle with the telephone cord. "Did you, uh— did you need something, though?" 

Peeta hesitates again. 

"I just—" He cuts himself off. "I'm sorry for calling you so late." He's entirely earnest in a way that makes you ache. "Did I wake you up?" 

He's also dodging the question, even if he is genuinely worried about your sleep schedule. 

"No, you didn't," you assert, "don't worry about that. It's fine." 

"Okay," he responds, relief palpable despite the crackly quality. 

The telephone cord is somewhat cold where it rests on your knuckles. You continue to twist it around your idle hand. 

"You still haven't answered my question, by the way."  

Peeta audibly exhales. 

"Oh." More rustling. "Yeah. I, um—" he clears his throat, "—yeah, I do need something, actually." 

That could mean a lot of things. Does he just need to talk? You know he does, sometimes. Or maybe he just needs some more flour, and is too embarrassed to admit it. He does seem like the type of guy to stress-bake in the wee hours of the morning. However, you seriously doubt that he wants anything related to that. 

"What is it?" You ask, finally. 

His next words are rushed, as if he's afraid that if he says them slowly, he'll never get them out. 

"Could you come over? I just—" it's only a momentary gap, "—don't wanna be alone right now." 

Ah. 

The thing is, you understand. You know what it's like. And there's only one possible response that you can give right now. Vividly, you can see him— the cave—  his face, shining with a cold sweat, his eyes scrunched tightly in pain— 

"Okay." You're already mentally mapping out where to go. "I'll be there in a few." 

-- 

When he opens the door, Peeta looks exhausted. 

But when he smiles at you, there's still that light in his eyes. That look he gets whenever you're around. It used to make you feel sick to your stomach, but now— now, you're not quite sure how to feel. You've been told that in comparison to him, you're rather good at keeping your feelings hidden underneath the surface. It's been necessary, after all. 

"You're here," he says after a beat, as if he expected anything else. 

"I'm here," you echo. 

Wordlessly, he steps aside to let you pass by. Somehow, although the layout of his house is exactly the same as yours, his still feels different. Warmer. A little cozier. The remnants of something sweet are still floating through the air, and you glance back at him. Maybe you were right about the possibility of him making cookies— or apple turnovers. Or those little cakes. 

"Been baking?" You ask. 

"Earlier," he clarifies, shutting the door behind you. 

"Smells nice." 

Peeta lingers by your side. "Want some?" 

"If that's okay." 

"It's always been okay." He raises his eyebrows. "How many times have I told you that you don't even need to ask?" 

You shoot him a look. "Doesn't hurt to ask." 

Flawlessly, he copies your expression. "How do you know that?" 

"It's called being polite, Peeta." 

"Polite," he repeats. "Polite…" 

You let out a short sigh. 

"Just show me where they are." 

He gives you a shit-eating grin. "And there it is." 

You don't even bother trying to respond; he's already padding past you, anyway. It's a short trip to the kitchen. His is more cluttered than yours— recently-used, more lived-in. There are more dishes in the sink, more stuff on the counter. But your eyes are drawn to the two wire baking racks on the stovetop. On top of them sit around two dozen pastries. They're prettily decorated with pink, blue, and white icing, and you take some time to admire them as you join him in front of the stove. 

"You've outdone yourself," you can't help but murmur. "Wow." 

At your compliment, Peeta instantly turns bashful. 

"Oh, thanks." Of course, he can't let those words sit. "It's— it's not my best work, but I—" 

His volume drops, and he pauses. 

"Well— my hands were shaking, so…"

Abruptly, you turn your attention away from the pastries. 

He notices, interrupting you before you can even open your mouth to speak. 

"I know what you're gonna ask," he says, softly. "And, yeah, I do want to talk about it. Just—" Peeta sucks in a breath. "Just not now, okay? Give it a little while." The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he gestures towards the racks. 

"Eat." 

You consider pressing the question. You consider urging him— did it happen again? Was it worse this time? It had to have been worse, considering that he wanted you over in the first place. Just thinking about it makes your stomach perform an uneasy flip. You can read Peeta. And right now, you can read the bags under his eyes. The tiredness he's trying to fight away. 

However, you don't want to push him. You don't want to break him down. Not again. 

So, you take a pastry. 

It's really, very good. 

Peeta takes one for himself, too, and you eat in silence. You know that despite your frequent approval of his various baked goods, he's still carefully watching your reaction; you make sure to look pleased, and it isn't hard at all. He seems satisfied. You're also satisfied. Once you've finished your pastry, you lick the remnants of the icing off your fingers. 

You pretend not to notice the way he stares— briefly, before forcing his gaze away. 

You pretend to ignore the way your heart skips. 

Mercifully, he breaks the awkward tension. 

 "Do you— would you want to take some home?" He asks, after swallowing. "We both know that I'm not gonna eat 'em all." 

"Oh, yeah, I'll take some," you answer. Thinking for a second, you add, "Were you going to risk bringing some to Haymitch, or—" 

He snorts. "Not this time." 

"More for me, then." 

"And your family, you mean?" 

You smile. There's no way that you're going to give up those pastries without a fight. 

"Sure. And my family."

Peeta doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he returns your smile all the same. 

-- 

He always keeps his bedroom windows open at night. 

You're not exactly sure why, but you suppose it's because he runs warm. Always. 

The duvet's soft on your bare skin, and his hands are gentle. With the way your head is positioned, if you move your ear just so, you can hear his heartbeat thumping through his chest. A steady rhythm. He's calm, and so are you. You're certain that you could fall asleep like this— if it weren't for the fact that you have other, more important priorities right now. 

When you look up at him, shifting an increment closer, he talks. 

"I thought things were getting better." His Adam's apple bobs as you watch. "I thought that— that things were gonna start improving. That I'd— " He trails off, for a second. 

"That I'd start going back to normal, I guess. But I should've known that it's… It's impossible." His gaze is focused on the ceiling. "It was hopeless to try and believe that I could just keep on going like nothing happened at all." 

You find your voice. 

"But you still tried?" 

The chuckle he lets out is completely humorless. 

"Yeah, I tried." 

He's always been optimistic— he's always trying to see the best in people. And seeing him like this makes you feel hopeless. You know what he's going through. It's essentially the same thing that you're going through. However, it's not like you can read minds. He knows the right words to say, but you don't. Even though you wish you could. Words— even though actions can speak louder than them— still mean a lot. You turn that word over in your head a couple of times. Actions. 

"What happened?" You ask, quietly. 

 A beat. 

"I let down my guard," he starts, volume barely a whisper. "I was confident in my stability. I thought that I wouldn't— break down, or anything. Because it had been a few weeks, and—" 

His eyes shut. Tightly. "God, I'm stupid." 

"You're not," you rush to interject, "don't say that." 

Peeta lets out another huff. "But it was stupid. To assume that I'd be okay, I mean. I should've— I should've expected it, at least." He quickly carries on. "Even after everything, I still let myself fall into a routine." 

I still let myself fall back into a routine, you know what he means. The bad dreams pale in comparison to the real monsters that loom over the both of you. Haymitch is a living example of what can happen; what will happen, if you don't hold on to tight control of the hypothetical reins. You ache. 

"Don't blame yourself for any of this," you murmur, "please. It's not your fault. Not in the slightest." You have to speak slowly, pace yourself. Keep yourself from everything you want to say. "Even if you tried to— I don't know, stay hyper-aware of everything— it would still come crashing down eventually." A breath. "It's inevitable, Peeta. It's always going to be here." 

"But I don't want it to be here," he chokes out, "I really, really don't!" 

You push yourself up from your previous position. His eyes are open now, wide and looking up at you. 

When you move backward and open your arms, he's on you in an instant. 

You rock back and forth, gently. You're not sure which one of you is holding onto the other tighter. Clinging would be a better word. His face is pressed firmly into your shoulder. You can feel him shaking. 

Despite everything, he won't let himself make any noise when he cries. 

You don't know how long you stay like this. It could be minutes. Hours, even. All you can feel and register is him. Peeta. He's trembling. The barely-there sensation, combined with the undeniable tightness of his arms. His hands. It's almost like he thinks that if he loosens his hold, even by just the slightest fraction, you'll suddenly disappear. 

That you'll cease to exist. 

That you'll become not real.  

When you finally draw back— slowly, tentatively, and only because he does it first— 

He sniffs, eyes red. They're not brimming with unshed tears, but they're still wet. You can't help but thumb away what little remains on his lower lids, even though you know that you probably look about the same. 

Peeta returns the gesture. 

Unlike you, though, he lingers, hand dropping to cup your cheek. 

There's a moment. 

You've done this before, of course. You've held each other. Comforted each other, brought each other back down. But since the end of the Games— since you've gotten away from the clamoring audiences desperate for a romance despite the sick circumstances— you haven't done anything more than that. 

You haven't kissed him since the end of the Games. 

But right now, you realize that you want to. More than anything. Anyone could see that Peeta wants it, too. Maybe even more than you do. 

So, when he leans in— just barely— closing the distance— 

It's practiced, at first. Familiar. Almost nostalgic. 

But then he melts, and it's suddenly something completely different.  

Peeta lets you softly maneuver him down onto the mattress, up against the pillows that are still too soft for your liking. He kisses you in the way those terrible poets describe— it's all excessively large bouquets, a clear starry night, longing looks across a crowded room, and—  

It's real. 

He gives. You take, and exchange it for everything you have in return. His hand stays on your cheek, the other behind your head, pulling you down. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. You lose yourself in the feeling. Whenever you part, it's only out of necessity, and you're soon leaning back in. You're making up for lost time— you're making up for every action you didn't mean, every word that was too sugary-sweet. 

Soon, your kisses grow deeper. And neither of you wants to stop. 

It's only when his hands are trailing down your body, down to the hem of your shirt, that you bother addressing it. Even if you want this— so, so desperately— you don't want to force anything in a situation that doesn't require it. Just kissing is nice. It's very nice. Nice enough that it takes a little while for you to regain control of your mouth. 

"Is this—" 

—and he's already speaking. Hushed, like you. 

"Please." 

It's almost embarrassing, what that single word does to you. But you barrel on. 

"It's okay?" You ask, "Just say if it's not, and I'll stop—" 

"—I just," Peeta visibly struggles with what to say for a moment, before settling on: 

"Need you," he says. "Please." 

It's more than enough, and you're in no place to deny him for much longer. You recapture his lips, welcoming his touch. His hands on your back, then your waist, then your hips again. His grip is firm, but not overly so. He would never hurt you, after all. Especially not here. Especially after what he's witnessed. 

His hands are warm and calloused on your bare skin. Strong, with all the work he's done since he was old enough to knead dough. You have to sit up in order to take off your nightshirt, and he takes the opportunity to do the same with his. You've already seen him shirtless, and at close proximity, too— but it wasn't like this. You couldn't trail over every little detail with your lips, back then. 

Peeta shivers, letting out a short giggle when you press a kiss to his stomach. He's sturdy, that's for sure. Impressive biceps, a toned chest. He's beautiful, and you tell him so. You think he blushes, but it's difficult to say for certain from your position. You're too focused on finding all the little freckles you can. 

He likes it when you kiss his neck, breath audibly hitching when you do so. 

But even though he lets you entertain yourself for a decent while, he makes sure to return the favor. He's never liked being in the spotlight for long, after all. And he wants. 

He finds all of your scars, from the arena. From before the arena, too. He maps them out, painstakingly, mimicking the way you'd kissed him all over earlier. Sensitive, he notes, when you make a small noise when his thumbs find your nipples. Soft, he observes, as his fingers slip underneath your waistband, moving lower. 

Soon, you're completely exposed, and he is too. 

Peeta pays more attention to certain parts of you— your thighs, your chest— but he doesn't skip over anything in particular. He wants to know everything; he wants to learn everything. And he's eager to learn. By the time he reaches the spot between your legs, you're already wanting for him. You've grown needy from his kisses, his caresses. You can feel him against your thigh— he's just as needy as you. 

His fingers are clumsy, at first. But they're strong, and you guide him. One, then two. Then another. His breath is loud, and he hums, biting his lower lip at your quiet moan after you tell him how to crook his fingers. You jolt when he finds your clit, paying careful attention to it while he works you open. 

At your whispered insistence, he grips himself by the base— already having put on protection— you don't care enough to ask exactly how he obtained it— and he pushes in. The groan he lets out sounds like it's been punched from his gut. 

He sets a slow, measured pace. Almost awkward at first, but he's a fast learner. He learns what angle makes you spread your legs wider for him. You wouldn't even use fucking to describe what you're doing— somehow, that word's too rough. He kisses you, nose bumping against yours. Most of your noises are muffled against his lips, but he takes them all the same. He absorbs them, and drinks them in. Drinks you in. 

"Peeta," you sigh, and he breathes your name in return, before ducking to kiss your shoulder. Your collarbone. Your neck. 

He comes first, twitching, pulsing deep within you. He stifles his whimper by tucking his face into the divot between your shoulder and your neck— but you can still feel it. You help him ride it out, until his thrusts falter, and his hips still. 

It's a few moments of limbo, in which he catches his breath. He meets your eyes. His are hazy, half-lidded. He kisses you. 

Then, he pulls out— disposes of the garbage, of course— and wastes no time in making his way down your body, to where you need him most. 

You're certain that he's never eaten anybody out before, but he's a natural. He's enthusiastic— much more so than when he was inside you. This is just for your pleasure, now. When you thread a hand through his tousled hair, he moans into you, increasing his efforts tenfold. He doesn't care for the mess— or the noise, as he laps at you. He doesn't even care for his own need to breathe. Peeta just wants to give. 

His brow is furrowed in concentration as he rapidly pulls you closer to orgasm. You can do little but take. And when you finally topple over your peak— 

"—that's so good, ah— Peeta, I'm gonna— ohh—" 

You cry out, heat rolling low in your abdomen— gathering, passing through your entire body. 

You float on blissful waves, and he licks at you through it all. For a single, brief moment, your mind is perfectly calm. 

When you relax, the warmth steadying to a hum, he notices and stops working at you. He wriggles a little, and leans forward to rest his chin on your stomach while you catch your breath. You can feel his, too, and it's hot on your skin. Peeta seems reluctant to take his eyes off you just yet. 

It's quiet, you register. You're reluctant to ruin it, but he looks pretty messy. 

"I should get you a towel or something," you say. 

He cracks a smile, his eyes softening. "Should you?" 

"Yeah." You're powerless not to return it. "But, you know, for me to get the towel, you have to get off me." 

"So demanding." 

You let out a short, offended sound. "Hey, that's just—" 

"I'm getting up." And he does. 

It doesn't take long to clean up, and the obnoxious white fluorescent lights of the bathroom don't blind you for long. Again, Peeta looks on while you wipe off his face— this close, you notice how brilliantly blue his eyes are. You notice the precise angles of his jaw. His cheek. He's probably doing the same to you— tracing the contours of your face. 

To your relief, you're back in his bed a few minutes later. He completely shuts off the lights, flicking off his bedside lamp, and then crawls under the duvet with you. You're not sure if it's creepy or weird to enjoy it, but everything here smells like him. A sort of earthy, warm scent. Even though you're both well aware of the multiple floral shampoos that the Capitol has to offer— he still retains that one thing. 

You're comfortable. You're safe. 

Peeta wraps his arms around you from behind. 

You're not sure if you should say something or not, but he does it first. 

"You'll stay?" Whispered, into the stillness. 

"Of course." Without hesitation. 

His grip tightens, almost imperceptibly. 

"Thank you," he breathes.  

The words are stuck in your throat. 

You can't bring yourself to say them, even though you know you'd mean them. Every single syllable. 

But you have time. You can tell him tomorrow, even. Or the day after that. Tonight, you didn't say it aloud, but you still told him all the same. 

You understand exactly how you feel, just before you drift off. 

You love him. 

[iloveyanderes]

Even more sagau and/or yandere ideas!

(realizing now i'm straying from the yandere side but it’s still there so its fine)(also heads up I will be posting the whole collection onto my ao3 account hellomelon8

1.my personal favorite, it’s a sagau idea where arlecchino picks up a random child who ends up being the creator, nobody knows at first so arlecchino thinks she’s just picking up some random ass child she found in the woods. When brought to the house of the Hearth the houses luck suddenly increases tenfold, the enemies stop being hostile, actually becoming rather friendly and help them out a lot. So many rare plants and herbs appear around the house, sickness vanishes, it was all so weird. At the time arlecchino hadn’t though it had anything to do with the child as she brings so many children to the house, all with their weird quirks and actions, trouble and blessings. But then one day the child gives her a flower-which arlecchino secretly keeps because well all know the dad of year secretly cares about her children. after 1 week the flower does not wilt, not 2, not 3, not 4. It nevers wilts again, but yet again arlecchino brushes it off.

But then one day the child gets a papercut and a droplet of golden blood falls out. Then all of a suddenly arlecchino realizes; ‘holy shit, this is the creator’ and now has to protect her child from a bunch of weirdos who are obsessed with the creator in such freaky ways.

2. Platonic Yandere Papa Neuvillette with a baby dragon reader, finding baby dragon reader while they were still in there egg. As we all know Neuvillette spoils that baby rotten as he had actually found another member of his race. I’ve seen all those fanarts why dragon Neuvillette is hugging someone with his entire body and i’d imagine him doing that to baby dragon reader, also when a mama cat corners her kitten and holds the kitten down while giving them a bath is what i’d imagine him doing. Neuvillette would be fiercely overprotective, even more than he is with the melusines. I’d imagine baby dragon reader would be very annoyed by this, especially when they’re trying to sleep and neuvillette is just towering over them. Overall it’d probably be like the relationship of a baby cat and an adult cat who have a bond.

3. Yandere fontaine trio x female dazai reader, reader also grew up in the house of the hearth and ended up committing so many violent crimes at a young age due to the previous head’s influence. Then one day one of the reader’s friends die and she completely changes her attitude, instead trying to kill herself while commiting good deeds as some sort of atonement. Meets lyney, lynette, and freminet. They become yander and are constantly trying to stop the reader from killing herself. Imagine reader sulking from a failed attempt at suicide not noticing the three idiots who had just narrowly sabatoged there plans.

4.another sagau-ish idea except it involves twins and a classic manhwa plot(ashtarte cough cough). Where a prophecy comes that a pair of twins will be born, one with powers of light who’d lead teyvat to greatness and the other with the power of darkness who’d destroy teyvat. I’d also like to throw reincarnation into this, you get reincarnated as the twin people perceive as ‘evil’, treated awfully and thrown into the abyss in hopes the abyss will just kill you while your twin (someone who also is reincarnated-who treated you awfully in your past life and was a bully) lives in luxury as they’re worship as a ‘savior’ so naturally you team up with the abyss, use your powers of ‘darkness’, team up with snezhnya, kill your twin and then take down celestia along with all the other archons as some sort of revenge. Ah, the villain reader. classic

5. Travelers aunty reader anyone? Aunty reader who took care of lumine and aether after their parents died. After a while the twins insisted that they wanted to travel on their own so the reader let them(then they immediately got trapped in teyvat) 500 years in the future aunty reader is super worried and goes down to teyvat to find the traveler. Of course the traveler is nothing short of relieved when they finally finally find someone they trust. So basically platonic yandere traveler traps there aunty down in teyvat with them because they miss her so much and who knows? Maybe other people might become yandere?

[reputationolivia]

try again?

would anyone be interested in this, i thought of this plot awhile back and started working on it recently but i feel like its just gotten long and idk i feel like it might be a bit boring? so idk if anyone would be up for reading this! but i put a little snippet of it here so if anyone sees this please share your thoughts! :)

18+ minors dni

warnings: none for this one yet.

summary: you and harry dated for almost 5 years but you ended things, only problem? you got a cat together three years ago that you co-parent.

wc: 1.8k

I glanced around in search for opal as I tied the laces on my shoes. She’s always been good at hiding when she sees her crate out and ready for her, but i was ready for her today with her favorite treat in hand. "Opal, where are you baby?” I called for her. pacing through the living room I heard a faint meow coming from the kitchen, and i sighed, already knowing where she would be - the narrow gap between the counter and the fridge. I bend down and waved her treat in front of her little face to get her interested in it. “Come on out sweetie,” i coaxed, slowly her fluffy face popped out of the gap and she began licking the treat. I took this as my opportunity and gently tugged her out and scooped her up, letting her have the entire treat now as I walked over to her crate.

As I helped opal get settles into her crate I tried not to think too much about the trip ahead and what’s to come. The keys jingled in my hands as i snatched them from there small side table near the front door creating a slight sound of normalcy between all of the craziness my life has been lately. I slung my headphones around my neck, and with opal securely inside her carrier i finally stepped out into the bright, sunlit street. I caught my reflection in a car window and felt a bit ridiculous - sunglasses on, headphones dangling, and cat in tow - i shrugged it off and began my journey to the subway station.

The subway ride was pretty uneventful, at least it was at first. Opal was sitting quietly in her crate beside me as she watched the window in front of us, watching the city blur through the window. I put my headphones on and mindlessly browsed through Apple Music, i eventually decided on just playing “my station” after not being able to settle on any of my existing playlists. I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular really, i mean besides the fact that I was currently on my way to meet my ex boyfriend of 4 1/2 years. As if my phone knew what was on my mind a familiar melody began playing, i felt my body tense as i recognized it immediately, my chest tightened and the air suddenly became too thick to breathe. I reached for my phone to skip to the next song. It was his song, of course it’d be my luck that’s the song that starts playing as I’m on my way to see him again. Of course, skipping it didn’t help, the damage was done.

Moving on has been hard, actually it’s been more than hard, it’s been hell, absolutely brutal. We were together for so long, four and a half years. That’s a long time to share a life with someone, it wasn’t just the memories that lingered though - it was our plans, the dreams we shared that we’d stay up all night talking about, when the world felt ours. Marriage, kids, a beautiful house with a garden, i thought it was all within reach, that it was just a matter of time. But now? Just the sound of his voice in a song sends me spiraling. It’s only been a couple months since we broke up, and seeing him as often as I do doesn’t exactly help with the whole “moving on” thing.

But now, all we have left is opal.

Opal. Our little baby. She wasn’t quite a child, but the closest thing we had. We adopted her when she was just a baby, three months old. After we broke up neither of us could bear to part with her. we had gotten her together so in the end we decided on co-parenting opal, which isn’t ideal but at the very least she had two people who loved her, and despite our failed relationship i knew she was safe with him. Even if seeing him every time i dropped her off still hurt.

The familiar ding of the subway pulled me out of my thoughts and i realized we were at our stop. I pulled my headphones back down to the back of my neck as i stood up, then grabbed opals crate and hopped off the subway. I felt like the subway ride ended far too quickly, and before i realized it i was walking up the now somewhat familiar street towards his apartment. as i got closer and closer each step i took felt heavier than the last. It felt like i was dragging the weight of everything we left unsaid, unresolved. I tightened my grip on opals crate, her quiet purring served as a reminder that despite everything, some things hadn’t changed.

But most things had.

I wasn’t the same person who used to walk the streets of New York with him by my side, laughing at the stupidest things, talking absentmindedly about everything, and nothing at all. Yet now it feels like that was a lifetime ago when in reality it was just a few short months ago. And now here i was, walking the streets of the city we once shared, alone. Having to act normal in front of the man i loved, love but trying not to as I’m about to hand over our cat like it was just some business transaction, something normal.

Ahead i spotted him standing in front of his building. He was leaning against the wall near the doors to the lobby, looking down at his phone, a casual stance that didn’t betray any of the turmoil i was feeling. Typical harry, i thought. Always composed, always calm. I wished i could say the same for myself. I reached up with my free hand to adjust my sunglasses, hoping they hid more than just the sun from my eyes. As i approached his eyes were still glues to his phone, did he even notice i was walking up to him? Now a few feet away from him, i clear my throat in hopes of catching his attention, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.

He finally looks up, his green eyes meeting mine, and though he couldn’t see mine due to my sunglasses i swore i could see something flash in his - recognition? Annoyance? Regret? I couldn’t quite place it. Maybe I’m just imagining things. “Hey,” he said, finally pushing off the wall and sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey,” i replied, keeping my voice as steady as i could even though every bit of me felt like breaking and like my voice was shaking with the tension of being this close to him. We walk into the lobby and i crouch down to let opal out. Immediately, she dashed out of her crate, and toward him, brushing against him with a happy meow. I couldn’t help the slight pang of jealousy i felt at how easily she seemed to adjust to this life of back and forth we’d created for her. I wish it was that easy for me.

“It’s been a while, nice shoes by the way.” Harry said as he crouched down, scratching opal behind her ears. He didn’t look at me when. He said it, instead keeping his eyes on opal. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a subtle dig when he said it’s been a while. “Yeah works been a bit hectic, and thanks.” I responded as i stood there awkwardly and hugged my arms to myself. Suddenly the distance between us felt a lot larger than just a few feet.

He stood up slowly, his gaze finally meeting mine, and i just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “How’ve you been?” He asked, for a moment i almost believed he actually wanted to know.

Good. You?”

“Same.” he said, glancing down at opal again.

The conversation stalled, i could feel the silence expanding between us, this is all we had now — awkward exchanges, empty words just to fill the space where something real used to be. I wanted so badly just to say something, anything that could break through the surface. I didn’t even know where to start, everything felt too different, too fragile and close to breaking. Opal meowed again, winding between our legs, completely oblivious to the tension hanging in the air between us.

I sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “She’s been eating normally. Likes to hide under the bed more often lately but that’s probably because of all the travel recently.” Harrys eyes softened a little. “Yeah, she’s always liked her hiding spots huh.” He paused, then added, “I’ve missed her.” His words hung there, suspended in the air between us for a while and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking about opal. I nodded at his words, something about the way he said it lingered longer than it should have, i tried to push it aside, maybe I’m just reading too much into his words. Looking down at opal again i sighed, “i’ll uh, see you later.” I mumbled, now just wanting to get out and as far away from this awkward situation as possible. I turned to walk away before he could say anything, i felt his eyes on me as i made my way towards the lobby door. His gaze was sticking with me more than i wanted it to.

As i exited the building, i felt my footsteps heavy on the ground again. I took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air and trying to clear my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the what-ifs. How i wish i could be done with all this. I couldn’t afford to keep dwelling on our past, especially not with everything going on. At least through all this change i still had my job, and im fortunate enough to really love my job. My job has always been my escape, allowing be to take a break from my real life and everything i had going on. I could create stories outside my own, i could be in control, or at the very least, i could pretend to be. But in moments like this, i was just me - and I couldn’t pretend to be anyone else. I had no script or direction, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

The months after the breakup have been such a blur, it’s like I’ve been moving on autopilot. Filming, press events, and trying to keep it together in front of the cameras. I was good at that. I’ve played so many different roles, performed rehearsed lines perfectly, but none of that could’ve prepared me for the messy reality of seeing him. Missing him.

[vaguesxrrow]

heya! its me, once more, with a possibly oddly specific request, bc yes

i'd like to request a Dean Winchester (again, i know, he has invaded my brain) x reader, where for a case, they need a distraction, and reader ends up dancing to let Dean and Sam get away before running away themself, [oh, btw, established relationship please] and Dean is just

Dean: "they can dance too?! they're awesome"

Sam: "yeah, great, dude, but we gotta go"

thank you!!

HELLOO AGAIN !! this was so fun to write as usual. im so glad to have u as one of my 'regulars' btw it makes me feel like a rlly cool coffee shop owner :o

dancing queen - dean winchester/reader

a/n: hey look ! i've upgraded to titles !

cws: mild innuendos at the end

wc: 768

tags: humour, gender neutral reader (? they call themself feminine titles bc of the song but they/them pronouns are used)

"dude, seriously?" dean complained as the beginning notes of 'dancing queen' began from sam's phone. "abba!?"

sam rolled his eyes. "they're not bad."

"don't judge, dean," you said. "you can make an exception for dancing queen."

dean grumbled, but settled down at your reprimand. he muttered something sarcastic about this being a 'great soundtrack to kill vamps to', and you giggled at his consternation.

"you should learn to dig the dancing queen, dean," you told him, swaying to the beat and tapping his shoulder in an attempt to liven his mood.

"yeah, dean," sam parroted.

"the only thing i'll be digging is a grave," he deadpanned.

⌦ ---

you were fucked.

you were cornered by three vamps, after yelling at them to divert their attention from the boys to yourself. you felt kind of bad about raiding their nest, because you had learned that they were newly turned. but there was no use reasoning with them now. they wanted your blood.

which is why you were fucked.

sam and dean were looking at you with wide, panicked eyes from behind the three vampires, already having killed the two that were attacking them earlier. dean was still wiping blood off his face.

"uhm." you gulped nervously. “hi.”

your boyfriend and his brother skulked quietly behind, trying to avoid alerting the vamps to their presence a second time. them being them, though, it failed. dean tripped on sam's foot, and they both swore in unison. the monsters whirled around to glare at them, beginning to advance again.

"hey!" you barked at them. they half-turned towards you, as if considering who they should kill first. you needed a distraction so the boys could get away.

one problem, though: you couldn't think of a distraction.

"uhh, shit." you fumbled with your knife, as an idea popped into your mind. a ridiculous idea, but all the just dance you played as a kid had to be for something, right?

and so you began.. dancing. and singing. performing a whole show, really, because hearing sam's hippie music taste was bound to have that effect on people.

"youuu can dance, you can jiiive, having the time of your lii- shit, that's a tricky note - liiiife." you pointed at the vampires, moving your hips and swaying your arms in what you hoped was an accurate copy of the actual moves. you resolutely ignored sam's incredulous gaze and dean's loose jaw, continuing to channel your inner popstar.

"OOOH, see that girl!" you pointed to yourself and mimed an air guitar. okay, this was fun, ignoring the fact that you could die. it was like the dance competitions your parents used to enroll you in, just with judges that would rip you to shreds instead of giving you last place. maybe you should get back into dancing.

from behind the wall of confused vampires, you saw sam tugging dean's arm, murmuring to him about how they 'had to dip, right the fuck now'.

"i was already questioning how [name] agreed to date me, cause look at them, they were badass in that fight, but they can dance too? how awesome is that?" dean hissed back.

you bit back a laugh in favour of belting out the next note and doing the next move. "watch that scene, digging the dancing queen!" you freestyled that part, twirling around.

"yeah, dude, but we still gotta go." sam yanked dean's arm once more, dragging him out and forcing him into a run. you breathed a sigh of relief as they ran out the door.

"hope you enjoyed the show!" you said as you pulled your gun on the vampires, shooting them all in quick succession. you sprinted away, not bothering to check whether they were really dead or not.

when you saw the impala, you slowed to a walk, satisfied that there were no more bloodthirsty monsters chasing you.

dean and sam were engaged in what looked to be a one-sided conversation: dean rambling, and sam staring at his brother with half judgement, half love.

"sammy, i'm telling you, man. a fighter and a dancer?" dean shook his head. "i am one lucky man."

"you enjoy the show?" you asked them as you approached, a bit out of breath.

"hell yeah!" dean exclaimed, giving you a high five and a deep kiss. "that was so cool."

"does that mean you'll start digging the dancing queen?" you teased.

"only if you're the one dancing," he said.

you grinned. "oh, there is so much i could teach you. devil's tango, maybe?" you winked.

sam fake gagged. "okay, gross! i am never playing abba ever again!"

[teecupangel]

Imagine Desmond being born as a Targaryen. Our resident go with flow guy being born into the family physically incapable of not creating drama. And this could work both in hotd and got.

Maybe he can be reborn as Viserys and Daemon's youngest brother? Who was the realm's delight before Rhaenyra was born, becuase he doesnt want to deal with the hastle of politics so he just tries to fade into the background.

But utterly fails becuase since his brothers have a favorite and its him, they just decide to spoil him constantly, even when they become adults and even if a rift started forming between Viserys and Daemon, they're still really close to Desmond.

And as the plot progresses, he just keeps on accidentally derailing otto hightower's plans. Marry your daughter to make her queen? Nope, becuase the king is probably in love with his brother. Try to make the king distrust his brothers even more so that you can have more influence? Nope, becuase Desmond basically makes sure Daemon isnt as deranged as he should be, and Viserys actually focus on the realm. Assassinate the lords in your way? Apparently, theres already an assassin cult which nearly kills you first.

Desmond gets a cult and creates his own brotherhood. And maybe its becuase a few certain ancestors arrived with him

Since you focused on Desmond being reborn as Viserys and Daemon’s youngest brother, we’ll go with that.

Desmond wanted to create a Brotherhood because, dear god, this world put the crap in crapsack and then add more shit in it. Desmond wasn’t sure what was worse. The undeniable madness that plagued his blood, the growing division between the nobles and commoners or…

How even the fact that he doesn’t want any claim to the throne and would rather disown himself just so people understand that he doesn’t want anything to do with that painful looking throne figuratively and literally has not dissuade people from thinking he’s the best to be put on the throne because either (1) the best ruler is one who doesn’t want to rule or (2) his lack of ambition makes them think he’s easier to puppet.

Honestly, Desmond would have cleaned his hands off all of this family drama if he could… buuttttt…

He knew his brothers would hunt and pillage the seven kingdoms just to find him so it was better for everyone if they knew where he was.

Desmond became the sole user of ‘wake up man’ among the Targaryens and he had a feeling this was their stupid father’s last resort.

Why else would be allow Desmond to not take a wife as long as he remained a Targaryen.

For some reason, Desmond even feels that their father has a hand on why his brothers seemed to love him more than they should.

So really, creating the Brotherhood was both his way of trying to help the people of Westeros as well as to get a ‘hobby’ to keep himself safe.

How the fuck was the supposed to know that his Brotherhood would turn into a cult worshiping him and doing all his bidding because they believe that he was god given mortal form and his word is law.

There is something absolutely wrong with this world and Desmond is trying his best to keep his own sanity even when every other people in this goddamn world is more than happy to fuck with him.

Things get even weirder when the first three Assassin masters he’d nurtured began expressing their annoyance for Desmond’s brothers because Desmond belongs to them.

At this point, Desmond was just hoping that by ‘belong’ they mean like ‘Desmond is our parental figure and we’re his real family’.

Hell, he’d even take ‘Desmond belongs to the Brotherhood and should be with us’ at this point.

Then again…

Looking at the very noticeable marriage trend the House he was born into practices and how his brothers have made it clear that they’re only willing to share Desmond with each other…

Desmond was fucked.

He was absolutely fucked.

Aquila, my dear dragon, you’re the only san- No! Don’t eat that arm- Fuuuuuuuuu-

[sorceresssundries]

Down by the River

Summary: The brain is defeated, the absolute halted, our heroes have won, and yet... victory isn't all it's cracked up to be. One-shot.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, destroyed city, mentions of death.

Word Count: 1.4k

Looking out across the water, away from Baldur’s Gate, you could almost trick yourself into believing that the flecks of orange and red shimmering on the surface were caused solely by the sunrise—the first kiss of light from the split-lipped smile of a new, hopeful day.

Reality is a dagger, and the Chionthar reflects the flames and chaos from the burning city, spreading them over its still surface to shimmer back at you in mockery. You don’t stop looking at the river, too scared of what you will see when you turn around. 

Baldur’s Gate is a broken city. The shops you once visited, the temples where you prayed, and the homes which welcomed you had fallen. Bricks now crush the bodies they were built to shelter.

You stand on the dock with your lover, feeling as though you have been sprinting across slipping sand for countless days, and now… stopped.

You have reached the end, and there is nothing here—only calloused hands, blistered feet, and grief that stretches and settles into every part of you it can find. The nether brain is dead, the tadpole in your head has shrivelled away to nothing, the crown is discarded, and the chosen of the dead three slaughtered, yet you are numb to relief.

“It’s over” Gale’s hand is on your shoulder, trying to turn you so you can rest your weary head against him. You can’t move. You can’t turn around. He slides his hand to your waist, to wrap his arm around you. You can’t bear to have any kind of joy, or hope, or comfort offered to you. You don’t want it. Bile burns in your throat.

He is speaking to you softly, his words as delicate as moth wings. You can't hear him. Your mind is your own again, pounding with the sound of death and destruction—it's enough to make you miss the wriggling distraction of the tadpole.

“We will rebuild,” you manage to catch him saying.

For a second, you think you hear an animal screeching in the distance, but the following sobs tell you it’s a person. A mother, maybe, who has just found the body of her child. You won’t turn to find out.

“Tell that to her.” You don’t recognise your own voice. You want to bite the words at him, but your voice has no teeth, and all you hear are the hollow words of a grief-wrecked wraith. He has no answer. No quip, no lesson, no comfort. There is nothing to say, no spell to cast, no illusion strong enough to cover the sound of screams and the smell of acrid smoke.

Your gaze remains fixed on the water, your mind churning in tandem with your stomach. The Crown of Karsus is in there somewhere, broken into pieces and buried under rubble. Left to sink into the silt of the Chionthar, as was always the plan.

Unless…

Karlach and Wyll were in Avernus, bound to a life of hellscapes and blood wars. The scorch marks from the portal, from her flame-swaddled body, were burned into the wooden dock behind you.

Astarion had been banished back into the darkness he had spent centuries trying to crawl out of. He had sprinted out of the light he once basked in, and the Gods only know where he is now.

Seven thousand souls had perished in a failed ritual. The corpses of Tieflings were shadows that could not be lifted in the curse-cleansed heartlands. Shadowheart had fought with the ferocity of a wolf to cast aside her Goddess and save her parents, only to watch them die in front of her. Rolan was dead. Cal and Lia and Zevlor and Florrick. All gone.

Lae’zel

You feel the muscles in your hand flex and spasm at the thought of Lae’zel. Your heart twists.

You had tried. You had conjured up desperate deception, attempted silver-tongued persuasion, and even rage-fueled intimidation, but it had not been enough to stop Orin the Red from plunging her knives into Lae’zel's eye sockets and splitting apart her skull.

She had been twenty-two years old, and burned with more courage than anyone you had known. It had not been enough to get her to the end, to this scorched dock in the shadow of Baldur’s Gate. You were not able to save her, and the thought of it sizzles wrath through your numbness.

Is this what victory tastes like? Blood and bile and fury. If only you had done things differently. The still, flame-orange water in front of you starts to froth in the wake of your rage.

“Tav?” Gale is trying to bring you back to him. Has his voice always been so small?

You remember how he had sounded when you first discussed the crown. After finding that damned book and seeing the desperation in his eyes, hearing the soft plea of his words which soon turned petulant and sharp.

A hindrance, he had called you. He had pouted and pleaded, and any wavering uncertainty in your decision to keep the book from him had hardened to steel.

He had not learned. Ambition still trickled and hissed through his veins, pumped around by his poor, desperate heart. Mystra had been right to keep him in check, just as you were right to do the same. He could not have the book. He could not have the crown. It would drain all of his sweet, kind mortality from him until all that was left was another God to keep the wheel spinning. How many would be crushed beneath it, beneath him? You could not allow it.

Each night, the Annals of Karsus had lain heavy in your hands. The weave, usually rosewater-scented and soft as silk, was suddenly sluggish and scraped like sandpaper in the air around its blasphemous contents.

That had not stopped you. You poured over its pages in the quiet, leftover hours where night slipped into morning. The book was heavy—not just in weight, but in the burden of turning its pages and deciphering its contents. Each word felt as if it had to be pulled out and held in hard focus before you could understand any of its meaning.

It took work, but you got there. You were just as capable a wizard as Gale, after all. The weave fought you at every turn, but with dedication the riddle unravelled and the answers became clear. The crown could be reforged and reused by someone worthy enough to wear it, and you knew how to do it.

Think of what could be done…

You could cool Karlach’s engine and bring her back to the life she deserves in the city she loves.

You could shatter the iron-clad shell of Wyll’s pact as though it were made of glass.

You could grant Astarion a life of deserved sunshine.

Maybe…you could change even more.

What if you could go back? Try again? Use the power of a God to Wish for another chance. You could do things differently, leave no one behind.

You could make different decisions. You could make it so your words would be convincing enough to still Orin’s blade and save Lae’zel. You could be stronger, wiser, tougher. You could step out of that pod on the Nautiloid a different person, if you wanted.

Another attempt, a restart, a new run.

Is that too much to ask? You are not marred by towering ambition; you don't want to raise armies or infect the minds of innocents. You don't care about gods and monsters. You just want another roll of the dice.

“If I salvage the stones… I could retrieve it…” You aren’t talking to anyone in particular; you just need it said out loud. “I could change things”

Gale is in front of you now, crouching slightly so his face is level with yours, cupping your face and wiping away tears with the pads of his thumbs. His eyes are full of panic, and he is saying things, such sweet, wonderful things. He loves you as a mortal; he needs you to stay here. There is nothing that can be done, he insists, there is always another way…

“I will find you again,” you say, an oath to the man who forgot his Goddess. You will not let him forget you. “I will love you all over again, you’ll see.”

And you mean it; your love was meant to blaze across universes, you could feel it.

His voice once again quiets as all the possibilities thunder around your head with bright new clarity. Your decision is made, your path clear.

You turn to stare at the burnt-out shell of Baldur’s Gate.

Forget ambition; you would become the God of Second Chances.

[thisthatpinkvenom]

FREE CINNAMOROLL HUGS FOR YOU

DAD!SEONGHWA / MOM!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Seonghwa's always there when you're in dire need of a hug; especially when it finally hits you that your daughter is growing up fast.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluffity fluff fluff

⤏ Content: established relationship!au, parents!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): none

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

It was nearing nine o'clock when Seonghwa stood outside the classroom where four and five year olds trickled in one by one; Spider-Man, Hello Kitty and a few other familiar icons making appearances on their miniature backpacks. He looked at the small Cinnamoroll backpack that hooked around his two fingers by its handle loop, a melancholic smile making its way onto his face when his eyes found sight of the small girl who stood three heads shorter than him. There's not an inch of personal space between the two of them as she idled between his parted feet, eating away at her fingernail while she quietly observed the kids whom she had to call her classmates in the next few minutes. Seonghwa clicked his tongue softly, and pulled her hand away from her mouth.

"Don't bite your nails, Yuha."

He dangled the backpack in front of Yuha and left gentle taps on her arm, waiting for her to stretch her arms for him to slip the straps onto her shoulders. And before he could, she spun on her heel and dove face-first against his tummy, basking in the comforting scent of her father's cologne. Seonghwa's button-up was soon dampened by the tears decorating his shirt and Yuha's backpack dropped to the floor just as his knee did. And he tried—he really did—not to shed tears of his own as he listened to his baby wail into his shoulder.

"Daddy, d-don't leave me!" she pleaded, nuzzling her sniffling nose into his neck.

"I'm not leaving you, Baby," he assured her, "I'll come back for you in a few hours." His hand smoothed over her back as he swayed her side to side, the other cradling the back of her head.

"Why can't I be with you?" Yuha croaked when she faced him, her eyes puffy and glistening under the fluorescent light. Seonghwa sighed and cupped her small face in his hands, his thumbs battling the continuous trails of tears pouring onto her cheeks.

Seonghwa tried explaining in the simplest way he could and murmured, "Daddy has to go to work, Yuha. It's big grown-up stuff…it's not fun."

Yuha looked down at her feet, finding temporary solace in her similarly matching Cinnamoroll crocs. The white dog smiled warmly at her from below, his bright blue eyes and pink cheeks never failing to spark a tinge of happiness in her. He'd always reminded her of her father: quiet, but good and helpful and liked taking naps.

"I'm scared…" she mumbled, once she gathered the courage to look back up. "I dunno anybody."

He nearly melted into mush right there on the spot, brushing the strands of hair let loose to the back of her ear.

"You have to start somewhere. Mommy and I were so nervous to meet you for the first time and look at us now. It's okay to be scared, but it'll go away if you want it to." 

She perked up at his word of advice, tears becoming obsolete as her eyes began to glint a promising sparkle in them instead.

"Really, Daddy?"

He hummed and reassured her, "You're a good kid, Yuha; I know you can make a friend. And if you don't make one today, well…that's okay, try again tomorrow. You can always try again."

"Okay," she said, meekly. A small smile crept onto his lips before he enveloped her into another tight embrace.

"Now, don't cry anymore, okay? You're a strong girl—just like Mommy," Seonghwa whispered, patting Yuha's back.

He felt her firm nods against his shoulder before he pressed a kiss to her cheek, picking up her backpack and finally fixing it behind her. Yuha's tiny hands gripped her shoulder straps as she recited words of encouragement under her breath, her eyes finding purchase in her foam shoes again. They soon followed the trail which ended where her father's face resided, and his warm smile forever engraved itself in the back of her mind, ready to appear whenever she found herself in distress. Without a word, she lifted her arms and waited with small, antsy steps in her place and like he's read her mind, she's hoisted into his arms.

"Did I not give enough hugs?" he asked with a playful lilt in his tone.

Yuha huffed, "No, never."

"Yep"—he chuckled—"you're just like your mommy…"

"And she really cried yesterday?" you asked, searching for confirmation in Seonghwa who hummed. You frowned, trudging to your shared bed where your husband was settled upright. If you weren't so caught up in reliving how your daughter ran into her classroom this morning without so much so looking back at you, you'd take more than just note of the glasses fashionably sloped down his nose while he read a news article on his phone. Sometimes, you couldn't believe this man really made a baby with you and was the extra source of warmth in your bed every night. You must've done something great in your past life, that's for sure.

And when you flopped next to him on your belly, he let out a passive laugh and placed his hand on your bottom.

"What's the matter, Baby?"

You flipped onto your backside, staring at the little nooks and crannies of the popcorn ceiling.

Sighing, you confided, "She didn't do that with me today."

Seonghwa shifted in his place, looking at you with an incredulous stare. Meeting his eyes, you pouted and let out another sigh.

"What? Don't give me that look, Hwa."

"You're saying you wanted her to cry?"

"It's not that, I"—you pinched your nose bridge—"she just gave me a little hug and ran off. She wasn't being a baby, Hwa." Your husband found it to be difficult to contain the amusement threatening his lips as he listened to your voice crack and your words quake. "I-I mean, my baby wasn't being my baby," you whimpered.

"Aw...Honey, she is," he cooed, inviting you with opened arms to which you accepted in the next sniffle you made. "Not like she's doing taxes, she's still learning one plus one—"

"By the time we both blink, she will be!" you whined into his chest.

"We'll get through this, Baby. You're strong," he gently hushed you, aware of the time as the darkness washed over the sky. Brushing his fingers through your hair while he listened to your staggered breaths, he chuckled. "Can you loosen your grip a bit?"

You huffed, "No."

Like mother, like daughter.

[mastermindmiko]

Hi! Could please write more ron Weasley fluff with a little bit of angst, it could literally be abt anything<3

Charcoal pancakes and confessions

Hey! sorry that this is a bit late, but none the less, here it is.

Pairing: Ron Weasley + Reader word count: 1393 Trigger warnings: Sexual innuendos, and that's it I believe, but lmk. Summary: You and Ron spend time together at the Burrow without anymore and it gives you a glimpse of what you would want it to be like in the future.

a/n: once again doing the summary rhyming thing at the beginning of the chapter (calling it poetry would be an insult to poetry) lmk if I should scrap the idea, I do however think that it's pretty cute

Give me a day or two to spend within your arms, to show you that I’m all that you need. We can play pretend and just make believe with you by my side and your arms around me. We can foresee the future as I need it to be, with you by my side and our house under my feet. I know you’re not sure yet about you and me, but I need you to see that I could be your home, if not the one you want then the one that you need. 

I wake up to the smell of something burning, and a few shouts. I can hear many curses as I wake up. I sit up, and go to stand up, immediately noticing the ache in between my legs. A shiver runs up my body and I reach for the clothes that are scattered under the floor. Putting on only what’s necessary. 

The curses and shouts get louder as I walk down the stairs to where Ron is creating a mess in the kitchen. A fire is brewing underneath the pan, as a few lumpy black objects fuel it like coal. I grab my wand and wave a spell that reduces the fire to a small amount, then I grab a small glass of water and spill its contents till the fire is gone. I chuckle at the mess that the kitchen’s in, “What exactly were you trying to do?” 

“Pancakes.” He says and then he walks over to wrap his arms around me. He sets his chin on my shoulder and I place my hands above his over my stomach. He twirls me around causing a quick giggle to leave my throat. He grins down at me and he pulls me by my arm, having me tripping over my feet into his chest to give me a kiss. I say, “You didn’t have to.” 

“Of course I did…” He trails off then scans my body noticing the fabric that’s foreign to my skin but not his. He continues, “Especially when you look so good in my clothes.” 

“Ahh, you’re exaggerating.” I tease him, and he pulls me closer to his chest once more. I can smell his shampoo and lotion, making him even more heavenly to me. His face turns into a faux serious and he says, “Not at all, you’re completely breathtaking.” 

I loved days like this when his family all left the Burrow to attend to their business and Ron would invite me over. I’d imagine that is what it would be like if we were together and maybe even sharing a house. He pecks my lips and then whispers, “You feeling alright? Your legs okay?” 

“Mhm…” I say against his lips, and he grins, already reaching a hand down to cup my ass. He says, “That’s good cause we’re gonna do it again tonight.” 

“Not tonight, your parents are coming back.” I inform him, as I step away from his grasp and throw the bricks that he calls pancakes away. He frowns, and his arms fall to his sides as I slip away. He says, “They’re coming back the twenty third.” 

“Yes, and look at the calendar.” I say, and he looks back to where the calendar hangs. His mouth drops as he notices the number twenty three written in large numbers. He slumps down and sighs, “I thought we had another day…”

“It’s alright, there’ll be other times.” I tell him trying to brighten his mood. I motion for him to bring me a few eggs as I crack them over the already hot pan from Ron’s failed pancake attempts. He wraps his hands around me once more. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, and he trails up till he’s at my ear. I shiver and he says, “We’ll have to make the most of the next few hours then.” 

“I really wish I could, but I have to start packing.” I remind him and move aside so Ron can put the eggs on the plates and set them on the table. He already brought forks and knives for us to use on the table. He questions, “What will you be packing for?” 

“Your parents are coming back tonight, and your family will be visiting, as well as some other friends…” I trail off hoping he would get the idea without me having to spell it out for him. He just looks at me confused when he’s already eaten nearly half of his eggs. His head tilts to the side and my heart clenches at just how much I love it when he does that.

“We’re not going to be alone here anymore, Ron.” 

“So? My parents love you.” Ron tells me and I roll my eyes, and move the eggs around on my plate. I hint at it once more, “They’re not the problem, Ron.” 

“Is it the sex? Because I’m sure we can find somewhere to do it-” 

“Hermione’s going to be there, Ron.” I say, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. He nods his head a couple times while I look down at my food. I put a piece of it in my mouth and chew slowly. He looks down understandably till he perks up again. He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. He asks, “Wait, why’s that a problem?”

I sigh and I look at him, trying to see if he’s joking or not. He does look confused, he’s always been an idiot when it comes to matters of the heart. I look away and push the scrambled eggs around with my fork before whispering, “I don’t want everyone to know that I’m the girl you’re with until Hermione can be with you.” 

“I don’t understand.” Ron asks, and my chest burns with the reminder of what we have or lack thereof. He places a hand on my knee in support and I suck in a breath before telling him, “I don’t want everyone to know that you’re only just with me until you can be with Hermione because everyone knows that you want her and not me.” 

“I don’t get what you mean.” 

“Ron, stop acting like that. I know that you want Hermione, you’ve wanted her for years now, and I’m just a placeholder. We’ve been at this for almost two years now, and never once have you ever said that I was your girlfriend, you’ve never even told me you liked me…” I burst, and I can see his fallen expression.

“Is that what you think?” Ron asks, and I don’t reply, just opt to look at my feet instead. He reaches his hand out to turn my face towards him. A teardrop falls, and I shut my eyes at how stupid I feel. He brushes it away with his thumb. He says, “I want to be your boyfriend, I wasn’t sure if you wanted more, I didn’t want to pressure you with anything, especially since you always seemed very content with what we’ve got.” 

“Well, I’m a great actor.” I chuckle, and he grins at me. He reaches out to hold my hand that’s in my lap. He rubs smooth circles over my hand and he looks at my eyes then flushes. He says, “And I always thought it was pretty obvious.” 

“What is?” 

“That I’m in love with you.” He confesses and my heart lurches to my throat. I search and scan for answers in his eyes for any sort of lie or uncertainty, but he was just smiling at me. He chuckles, “Merlin, I’ve even been thinking about a ring design.” 

My heart thumps against my chest, and I blush. He reaches over to plant a lovely kiss on the back of my hand then the other. He kissed one cheek then the next, and finally landed on my lips. He sighs, “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier.” 

“I shouldn’t have assumed either…you were pretty heartbroken when you broke up with her.” I explained, recalling how he would send me a letter in the middle of the night asking me to meet him where he would talk my ear off about so many things just because he felt so lonely after she left him. Ron asks, “Do you know why Hermione broke up with me?” 

“No.” 

“It’s because even she realised that my heart belongs to you.”

a/n: Hope you liked it!

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

March 5th

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1. I’m pretty sure the fic im looking for is a one shot, but it’s been so long I can’t remember: LXC brings WWX (who he’s been teaching musical cultivation) to LQR and is like “he’s never learned this song, watch” and plays something. Then gestures to WWX who plays it perfectly from memory. LXC gestures to him while looking at LQR like “see?” and LQR is impressed

FOUND! multitude Chapter 13: good teacher lan qiren by bunny093 (bamf/genius wwx, the lans are better are sect-ing here, lightly based on a lilo&stitch scene, not yunmeng jiang friendly)

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2. Hello! Looking for a specific fic, at some point wwx transmigrates or reincarnates into the modern world where he is a ceo (?) and was trained by a teacher his whole life about sword fighting etc, and then he eventually gets his memories back and invents a way (i believe it was a device) to dimension/time travel to get back home. @vulpeculatee

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3. Hi, I'm looking for a Wangxian fanfic, where Wei Wuxian is in the Lan sect and he grows mushrooms. I just know that mushrooms were an important part of the fanfic, there was a scene where the other sects followed the Lan disciples to see where they bought the mushrooms. Thanks.

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4. hello! i just finished rereading "switched" (wwx switched with xz) but its ending was wwx finding out that he's pregnant. i remember that there's a part two of that where he gave birth in modern world, and they even cut their own hair but i cant find it. does anybody know where can i find it? or maybe im talking about two different story? im not really sure. thankyouuuuuu!

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5. good day! for the enxt fic finder, do u guys know tha time travel fic where wwx came back during the lectures then he let himself fall from the cliff where lwj was there and told him to let go? thank u in advance!

FOUND!🔒 Without end by barisan (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Depressed WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm,   PTSD, Panic Attacks, Yunmeng Jiang bashing, Sentient Resentful energy, Medical inaccuracies)

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6. Making a deep dive into my AO3 history is an Exhausting prospect right now, so I must turn to the hive mind. Three fics I'm looking for rn.

A) Meng Yao is running an errand and finds his car beset by a swarm of bees! 🐝🐝🐝 Cue LXC to the rescue.

B) Wei Ying is out on a first date and it's going poorly. Lan Zhan overhears. Tea facts are relevant. 🍵

C) Post-canon case fic, where the case is a mysterious energy that some people can see/sense and some cannot. Can't remember whether WWX just happened to bump into LWJ+ducklings or if they were already hanging out, but the two of them figure their shit out whilst investigating. I think there was a garden involved. And energy-induced kissing (possibly even sex?). @linderel

6A)

FOUND! save the bees (ride a beekeeper) by Ariaste (T, 4k, LXC/JGY, modern, Fluff and Humor, Meet-Cute, Bees, Flirting)

6B)

FOUND!🔒 Heaven, Wait by sunflowersfield (T, 2k, wangxian, Modern, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Neurodiversity, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, First Dates, First Kiss, Hyperfixations, Strangers to Lovers, Meet-Cute, The bad date with the original character is brief and he never sees that guy again)

6C)

FOUND! Not What We May Be by brooklinegirl (E, 29k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Bedsharing, casefic, Hurt/Comfort, background Jingyi/Sizhui)

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7. Hi. Hope you are well.

I'm trying (and failing!) to find a WangXian fix I read years ago on Ao3.

From what I remember, Wei WuXian was a Captive of the Wen and kept in a high tower where is tortured and chained with a small window and Lan Zhan also gets captured and put in the same cell of Wei WuXian.

Lan Zhan is there when the Wen soldiers drag Wei WuXian away for torture and they bond. Later Lan Zhan finds out Wei WuXian is a Phoenix and the Wens want his tears. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are his only friends.

Wei WuXian helps Lan Zhan escape and Lan Zhan has to convince the cultivation world to save Wei WuXian but by the time they reach the Wens, they see that Wei WuXian lost control of the Phoenix and Lan Zhan calms him down amidst the fire.

I also remember the fic mentionimg that a Phoenix meant Goodluck.

Thsnk you in advance!

FOUND? a thousand hills, no birds in flight | 千山鳥飛絕 by defractum (nyargles) (E, 26k, WangXian, Mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon adjacent setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

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8. thank u so much for all u do! i actually have two fics i’m searching for! i remember reading both in 2021 so i believe that narrows things down!

A) first one is canon divergence from qiongqi path, i remember that wwx almost dies but puts his consciousness into a paperman and his body is somewhat preserved by wen qing till they can find a way to heal him and then transfer his consciousness back but they pretend he died to the other sects (i remember they even go check his body) i remember the wen remnants go to lotus pier pretending to be related to ppl from yunmeg and jzx survives. the whole mess with mxy and the summoning array happens but it fucks it up a little since wwx isn’t actually dead and he becomes something like a spirit/ghost for a while and ends up meeting lwj by accident when he’s taming mxy back to lotus pier. they manage to heal his body and he transfers himself back in and they all live happily ever after.

B) the second one is a fic in a fic series of wangxian having more children and being very domestic that includes past lwj changing places with present lwj for a day and he basically spends the day with wwx, they go farming he helps with the kids, they see lsz for a time, unfortunately that’s all i can remember from it.

8A)

FOUND? 🔒 something like by silversshadow (T, 69k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives AU, Temporary Character Death)

8B)

FOUND? These Two Most Powerful by stiltonbasket (G, 4k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, Married Life, Family Feels, Parenthood, Temporary Amnesia, Time Travel, it's amnesia but it feels like time travel to LWJ, wangxian have more babies, and they are the cutest buns, not your average amnesia fic? there's no drama here tbh, just soft husbands carrying on with fatherhood, And loving each other, Mild Angst, Happy Ending)

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9. Hello! I am looking for some help to find a fic. It's a story where Wei Wuxian becomes the ruler of afterlife essentially. All the characters who died before him are there but he has no memory of his past. The only way to get his memory was to go to earth and retrieve them(?). The last chapter I remember is MXY calling him, allowing him to return to the earthly realm.

Please and thank you 😊 @myblurryreality

Thank you for the suggestion but that is not it, unfortunately. The one I'm looking for starts out with Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan being in this after life city. They had to struggle for a bit because there death offerings(?) were delayed. Wen Qing was a doctor in the town and helped heal Jin Zixuan from an injury at one point. The reason everyone's offerings were delayed was because there was a new Ruler, who ended up being Wei Wuxian. He had absolutely no memory of anyone, but allowed Jiang Yanli to visit him. He would hear a song (Wangxian) played as a tribute(?) but didn't know who played it.

NOT FOUND!🔒 A Secret Never Shared by Vrishchika (T, 28k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, frankencanon, Pining, Soft LWJ, Deity WWX, BAMF WWX, Alternate Universe, LSZ is the best boy)

FOUND! A Celebration In White by Enigmatree (T, 20k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Afterlife AU, Underworld, god AU, 13 years of Inquiry, Happy Ending)

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10. Help!

I lost a Twitter threadfic! I could have sworn I saved it, but either I accidentally deleted it or the author did. And they were about to update it too!

It was about WWX who, during the first Burial Mounds siege, was transformed into a rabbit, and now lives as an immortal bunny. Now it's modern times and he's been rescued by a reincarnated LWJ, who is about to leave for college (veterinary) and doesn't remember anything about his past life. WWX is wary of him at first (he thinks that LWJ was amongst those who led the siege), but he eventually warms up to him and manages to tell him the truth using a computer.

Please help me find this! @blueghost13

FOUND? Here's the link for the Twitter Thread And I just discovered that it got updated 2 days ago when I had expected no more, so thanks for making me check 🤗

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11. Hi! I've been searching this fic for so long and couldn't find it. As far as I can remember in this fic Wei Ying survives the siege and he goes away with Ayuan. He invents a silver core type of thing. some kind of mechanical/physical core. And later I think the jins capture him or something. Do you have any idea about this fic?

FOUND? 🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

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12. Hi. I love your Fic Finder and Recs and your suggestions have kept me busy reading for almost 2 years now 😍

I was hoping you could help me find a fic I've recently read the summary off. Something about WY accidentally domming LZ Z somehow and turning him into a sub without realizing? And I think WQ pointed it out to him? I believe it was a modern setting, and the summary sounded very light-hearted and entertaining.

I'm not sure if that's enough info to go on, but thanks for your help in advance 🥰 @papperlapapp1

FOUND! And They Were Roommates! or The Accidental Domming of Lan Wangji by DizziDreams (E, 21k, wangxian, Dom WWX, Sub LWJ, inexperienced BDSM practices, un-/under- negotiated kink, horny climbing, horny cohabitation, horny on main except by main I mean at a party surrounded by innocent bystanders, Praise Kink, Masturbation, Bondage, Lingerie, Orgasm Delay/Denial, omg they were roommates, Modern, BDSM, debatably a bit of dom drop, Public Masturbation, Edging, Getting Together, WQ has to come in and straighten this shit out)

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13. I was reading a great fic and then Tumblr updated and ripped out from me when I was only in chapter two! Devastated. Its world building at its finest, you are not folks directly what's happened or happening. WWX is the proprietor of Yiling Garden, a cafe that offers sanctuary. Mo Xuanyu arrives in the first chapter seeking sanctuary from the Inquisition. Lan Wangji arrives, saying he's sanctuary and there for Mo Xuanyu, but WWX assumed he was inquisition at first. They have not seen each other for years. Clearly something happened to separate WWX from everyone he loves except Wen Ning, who works for the shop too, and had been raised from the dead. For unknown reasons, Wen Qing is elsewhere and happy. Wen Yuan is mentioned, but WWX doesn't know what happened to him. There are phones so it's a modern au. And... That's it. Tumblr died right after Lan Wangji asks WWX out for dinner. Help! Thank you VERY much! @lurkdot

FOUND? transmuter by WithLoweredVoices (Not rated, 113k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Magical Realism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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14. Hi 😃 I need help to find a fic because I only remember a tiny bit! LWJ isn't wearing his forehead ribbon and LQR/Lan elders are trying to get him to wear a new one, the bit I really remember goes like this:

LQR: gives LWJ a new forehead ribbon LWJ: it's not the same 🥺🥺🥺

FOUND? A Future Family In A Broken Past by Hauntcats (T, 121k, wangxian, WWX & Wen Remnants, Jiang Family & WWX, WQ/MM, JYL/NHS, LXC/NMJ, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WWX Needs a Hug, Family Dynamics, What is a good family?, Fear of emotions does not excuse abuse, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel fix-it, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, LXC needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Not YZY Friendly)

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15. Hi! Hope you are well. I am desperately searching for a fic I read once but cannot find it anywhere. In this fic WWX survives the siege and leaves with A yuan. He and a yuan live in hiding. wwx also builds a golden core-more like a silver core as he invents a physical core that works the same as a golden core. I can't remember how it finishes but I think Jins capture him and A yuan seeks help of LWJ. Hopefully you can find this!!! Thank You!

FOUND? 🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

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16. Hi! This is for fic finder. Its cql post canon i think. WWX goes to some place near ocean and he resque a men who battling a ghost ship? I think he was a cultivator from a nearby sect. WWX then teach them a little bit before he continue his journey. He went to Jinlintai. In the road he met a woman who goes to the same destination as him to met her wife. They become a fast friend. Thats all i can remember. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours)by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, slow burn, canon compliant)

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17. Hi! I don't know if I'm doing this right bc I'm new to tumblr... I've seen your blog before though and it's so helpful! I have a fic finder request - I remember it was a harry potter au where wwx has been gone from lwj's life for 13 years. he came back (as an animagus?) as a black rabbit and lwj was a professor at hogwarts. lwj takes care of rabbit wwx and then jgy comes with aurors at the end of the fic to attack hogwarts and lwj fights him. When lwj is almost going to be killed, rabbit wwx turns back into a human and protects him. Thanks so much!

FOUND? an armful of warmth by Alaceron (G, 3k, wangxian, Harry Potter Setting) It has a sequel, too!

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18. I seem to have read a summary or a review of a wangxian fic and can't recall if it's from this blog so i am putting in a request for help in finding it so in that summary it was mentioned that wangxian had travelled to a village and met a lady on bank of the sea but she was actually a sea monster/creature don't exactly remember what and she consumes hearts of her victim and LWJ becomes her target but he distracts her by tell her his and WWX's story while WWX tries to save LWJ as the body of the victim comes to shore after a week or so don't remember much or more so I hope this suffices also it was most likely to be a multi chapter fic with less than 10 but more than 3 chapters and that it was probably on ao3 . Thank you so much for your work.

FOUND! The Eater of Hearts by ElDiablito_SF (T, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, LWJ is Scheherezade, WWX and LQR speak to each other agenda, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian are very in love and very disgusting, Case Fic, Gratuitous kissage)

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19. Hi!

For the next fic finder can you help me with this ao3 fic, Modern Au where wwx gets kicked out of the Jiang family house so he has to stay (I think) in a shed close to his school, and also he has to take extra food from the school cafeteria and that’s how (I think) LQR finds him stealing after class

There was missing food so they also checked the cameras but wwx dodged them also NMJ in this AU is a cop and close to LXC

When they find out about wwx situation he’s taken to the lan house, eventual wangxian

And I don’t remember more

Thank you a lot for the help!🙇‍♀️❤️

FOUND? Where is home? By SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 80k, WIP, WangXian Modern AU, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Coming Out, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Good Sibling LXC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, Possible Smut?)

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20. There is this fanfic where Sizhuai(sp?) And Jingyi are night hunting with other Lan juniors. Nearly everyone dies, except him and Jingyi because out of desperation, Sizhuai uses demonic cultivation but he gets whipped a lot with the discipline whip because of it. Because of this Jingyi leaves the Lan sect. When he wakes up, Sizhuai is devastated. Cue angst, and Sizhuai eventually tracking Jingyi down and reconciliation. Unfortunately I can't remember this fanfic title and I would love to reread it. @andyousaidtruelovedidntexsist

FOUND? Give Me A Reason by useless_slytherclaw (M, 25k, ZhuiYi, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Junior Quartet, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Friends to Lovers, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, Minor WangXian, Minor JL/OYZZ, Aged-Up Character(s), Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Rogue Cultivator LJY, Family Feels, Demisexual LJY, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions)

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[rainbow-neko-artblog]

Question about your Polyverse AU: I’m a bit new to your AU, I saw the siblings post, but I wanna know…where are the mom and dad?

(Basically I wanna see art of what happened to the mom and dad, but you don’t have to draw the art if you don’t want to it’s your choice this is just a request)

Uhm so- You said you're new so you might have missed it but I explained the Poly sibs parental situation in the plot summary i made >>> HERE <<< a couple days ago. but i guess i did kinda gloss over it so i'll be more specific- and ill try to include some doodles!!!

The polysibs (excluding Sillybilly/Yourself, he's very new, and adopted so, ignore him.) have no parents- instead they have this giant eldritch angelic abomination known as The Collective

The Collective is a GIANT MASS of angels that gave up their physical form to SMUSH themselves all together to gain enough power to change the code of the fucking universe like a god. Why did they do that? you might ask?

Oh ya know. To try and make a genocidal angelic bio weapon that would kill all the "flawed" people and demons on earth and destroy hell by committing angel mitosis and code manipulation. They failed the first three times (2D, BB, Sally) and made Miku and Keith together. Keith was their golden child, the hero they were looking for, the bitch with the plot armor and the voice that warps reality- and they basically put Miku in a robot body to control her into being Keith's body guard.

Safe to say- this plan didn't work when Keith fell in love with a "flawed" mercenary, hot demon babe, and "flawed" demon ghost hybrid.

They brought him up to heaven when he was old enough and showed him all his partners wrong doings and everything and mans was unphased. he said fuck yo shit I'm in love with them.

and The Collective got pissy- but turns out being mushed together for that long is uh??? not good for you- so while BF and co. are fleeing the shit outta heaven, goopy toothpaste mcgee falls off the edge of heaven LITERALLY cause its a giant sky palace- and its so fucking corrupted it can't co-ordinate with all of itself to fly and not get itself thrown into the code.

In the code- the ACTUAL gods of Polyverse, Chaos and Order, are like 'ur a fucking dumbass' and pull the collective apart LITERALLY limb from limb in what quite possibly might be my favorite interaction of the whole RP to the point where summarizing it does no justice you can read it here if you want. (Mild Gore TW)

SO IN CONCLUSION:

Bf and his siblings have no parent anymore. They all practically disowned them for trying to control their lives in a very fucked up way, and then the gods of the universe DESTROYED them so like. YIKES LOL.

[margueritedaisies]

I just love drawing families of fictional characters, its interesting to think of how each sibling would look. I try to make them different from one another but at the same time maintain familial similarities.

Jinzha resembles their mom, Muzha their dad, and Nezha's a good mix of both.

Also get ready with some sibling dynamic rant, mostly relation HCs by me.

Enough with the parent child dynamic

I want sibling dynamic. Where these three come to terms on what happened between them. Specifically Muzha and Nezha's interaction is the one I want to see.

Tbh those two's fates in the myth reminded me of Hyakkimaru and Tahomaru in Dororo.

Like Nezha and Muzha had so much potential to gain solidarity with each other. Because Jinzha could never relate to them as the ignored or unwanted child. Muzha has that middle child stuggle fr.

Muzha is the one so eager to gain their fathers favor trying to meet Jinzha's level . Nezha wants nothing from his father so he makes himself worse.

Muzha's frustration with Nezha is that Nezha is rebellious, disrespectful of their dad

While Nezha's frustration to Muzha is that Muzha is so blinded and always struggling to achieve something so futile. Deep down he hates how Muzha is suffering this way but he wouldnt speak of it. This is why they always at odds.

They should make a movie focusin the Li brothers fr

Other than overusing the actual myths.

Fuck the ending from the original myth, they didnt even consider how the children felt from all the abuse. Not even mention of Muzha's death.

Enough Ao Bing, what about Muzha???

And the moral lesson is just about "respecting elders"?? The story still had so much to wrap up. How can you call this a family if there is some sort of hierarchal system. A family requires empathy to maintain that connection.

Tbh its kinda realistic

Families and siblings can still inflict trauma from each other .And a story based on reconcilation is a good way for this to be about family counselling.

I wanna see the "what ifs". It could be each brothers own story of self healing from the trauma caused on each other.

Maybe Im getting my hopes up too much, but it could be a development for them to forgive, start anew and an opportunity to connect and catch up on what they missed on each other.

Edit:

As for Jinzha he also has his own struggles as the eldest. Keeping up the station as the golden favored and perfect son. But its Asian family dynamics, which means hes in a lot of pressure. But he is mentally and emotionally strong. The brothers always busy on his studies ,future responsibilities and training to be able to spend time together. Their timetables seemed to be planned out to always not meet. Jinzha especially had less freetime. And if he ever came across any of his brothers, it was only one of them never both.

He doesnt mind being a buffer for the other two feuding but it does stress him out that it will never change. But he'll make sure to give time and attention to both of them as much as he can.

Other than keeping up his fathers expectations he also doesnt want to fail as a big brother to them🥺😭

Muzha and Nezha can see his efforts so they do not dare hold anything against him. Muzha still keeps his competitive attitude when Jinzha's around but accepts any offered kindness from Jinzha. While Nezha enjoys his company when he gets the chance.

Also because I tend to hold on to this little bit of bonding😭🥺🥺Jinzha trying to be the best big bro

Thinking of the contrast in the future where Jinzha was tasked to torture Nezha destroyed me😭😭😭What did Jinzha even feel while he had to do it??

Also here some Nezha with his hair down again

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Art of Failing [3]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: discussion of child loss, discussion of parent loss, discussion of drunk driving and repercussions of that, mentions of blood and injuries, vampires drinking blood, dubcon setting but no smut, vampires play master/pet and it's hella sketchy, drugs and alcohol, reader is drugged

Word Count: 12.8k

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: i have no good reason for this being a day late other than who i am as a person. also there's a supernatural reference in here b/c i am unclever lol.]

FIVE MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

"life went on but it was never the same again." d.j.

The only sound in the room came from the clock hanging on your living room wall as you sat on your couch and stared blankly ahead. After saving you, Din had climbed in your car with you to ensure you got home and the second you were up in your apartment he disappeared saying he was going to track down ‘Tim Brancato’. You weren’t sure the bounty hunter would’ve told you how he planned to do so, even if you had asked, so you left it alone for now. 

Apparently, the adrenaline was officially wearing off and shock was settling in its place. You could’ve died. You probably would have. The eerie smile Miles gave you told you everything you needed to know and the image of his face wouldn’t leave your mind. He was going to kill you, and he had been excited at the prospect. 

You knew being an Agent was a dangerous lifestyle. Hell, you knew better than most⏤ it was how you lost your mother. Your eyes darted to the picture on the wall of the two of you. Even when people weren’t actively trying to hurt an Agent, the work itself was still a risk. Any case had the chance to go south. That’s what they say happened to her. A simple job where everything went wrong. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your mother had been a hero with huge solved cases under her belt. She had saved countless lives and put her own at risk just as often, but it had been a patrol that took her from you. She stumbled across a smuggling deal gone wrong, in the dead of night, and then never came home that morning.

So, it didn’t surprise you that putting your nose in something this big made you a target, but you felt shaky all the same. 

The silence of your apartment was interrupted by frantic pounding on your door. You startled, eyes wide, but a voice immediately set you at ease. “Hey, it’s me!” Joel called out, muffled by the door. You stood and hurried to open the door, and the second you did Joel pounced. His hands found your face, cradling it carefully, and his dark eyes were scanning you with concern. At his touch, your face began to burn, and there was no telling if it came from your injuries earlier in the day, embarrassment from the doting, or just the feel of his rough, calloused hands against your cheeks. His hands looked huge at baseline, but having them envelope your face made it that much more prominent in your mind. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Joel. You didn’t have to rush over.” You replied. After the incident, you had texted him that at some point tonight he should swing by so the three of you could figure out this Tim Brancato issue, but for him to be here already he must have sped over. “Din isn’t even back yet from⏤”

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” Joel muttered a string of curses. He only released your face then after evaluating a few more times⏤ as if he’d find an injury that wasn’t there the first time he looked you over. “The second you told me you were goin' there, I should’ve⏤”

“There was no way of knowing.”

“We were suspicious though. That fanged metal head told us.”

“We didn’t know for sure yet though.”

Joel crossed his arms and a crease appeared between his eyes where his brows furrowed in disagreement. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” He repeated himself. “If the bloodsucker hadn’t been there…”

“Really. I’m fine, Joel.” You set your hand on his arm. His scorching skin under yours sent your heart into overdrive, and you had the urge to rake your fingers through his arm hair. Nima’s phone call with you flashed in your mind, and, before you could do something stupid, you pulled your hand back. “And hey, no mean nicknames when Din get backs.”

Joel scrunched his features in a pout as he shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because.” You reached around him to shut the door and walked back to your living room. “If we’re gonna work together we should at least try to keep the peace.”

Joel trailed after you with a scoff, “Well, what the hell am I supposed to call him then?”

“His name?” You shrugged. “I know that’s probably wild of me to suggest.”

Joel grumbled under his breath and as you slipped into the kitchen you saw him gravitate to stare at the pictures on your wall again. There were a good bit of places you’ve been and people you loved. Plus, staring at the pictures was probably less rude than plopping down on your couch and watching television. Not that you would have a problem if he did, but you certainly would have too much anxiety if the roles were reversed.

“You hungry?” You called out. The fridge and pantry weren’t overflowing with options. Technically, you were past due to go grocery shopping. “I can order us DoorDash or something.” Joel didn’t respond and you stepped out of the kitchen to try and get his attention. “Joel?”

His gaze snapped from a photo to you, “Huh?”

“Food? I was gonna order something while we wait for Din.”

“Oh. Yeah, I could eat.” He nodded. You picked up your phone and began to ask if he had any preferences when he interrupted. “How long until the vampire gets back?”

Well, vampire was way better than bloodsucker. You’d take it. You paused in thought, “I actually don’t know. A couple hours at least? I’m not sure how long it would take a bounty hunter to find any info on this guy.” You scrolled through your phone. “Do you have any food preferences or things you hate? There’s⏤”

“You wanna go out?”

“Huh?” You nearly dropped your phone in surprise and stared back with wide eyes.

“Out. You wanna go out to eat rather than call in?” Joel asked. “There’s a place near here I like.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah.” You nodded. Joel nodded his head toward your door indicating he expected you to follow. You snatched up your keys and wallet to hurry after him. 

Joel made the decision to drive and you didn’t have a strong enough preference to argue. It only made sense since he knew where the place was. You climbed into his cab and glanced around. The truck was an older pick up that had seen better years, but it was well kept and clean. As Joel reversed out of the parking spot he noticed your gaze.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head. Hanging from the rear view mirror was a homemade bracelet. It consisted of mostly pink and white beads, but there were a few specific beads interrupting the color pattern every three beads. You noticed one shaped like a star, another of a butterfly, and another of a soccer ball. If there were any others they were hidden behind the mirror. You chuckled, “Did Ellie make that?”

Joel’s eyes darted to the bracelet and he stared at it a beat before his eyes snapped back to the road, “No.”

He offered no further clarification and you squirmed in your seat at the sudden tension. You cleared your throat and tried to change the subject, “So what does this place serve?”

Joel seemed eager for the topic change as he spoke up quickly. The place was a simple diner, but Joel swore up and down on their food. A hidden gem of a place apparently. It was about ten minutes from your apartment and located in the parking lot of a strip mall. You had actually seen the place a few times, but had just never paid it any mind. The outside had the classic retro diner look and you chuckled when he led you in and the interior matched the old school diner look. A handful of people were scattered about.

Someone from the kitchen called out a greeting, and Joel raised a hand in return before sitting on a stool at the bar. You took the seat beside him, “You’re a regular, huh?”

“Yeah. Ellie and I come here every other Sunday.” Joel shrugged. “Tradition, I guess you could say. Friend owns the place.”

You hummed in amusement. Austin was a big city and you found it ironic that every other week he had apparently spent in your neck of the woods. You wondered what it would’ve been like to meet Joel before Ellie disappeared. 

“Hey.” A woman spoke up. She stepped out of the swinging kitchen doors and hurried over. Her long hair was a light shade of brown and her face had fallen into concern. “Any news?”

“Not yet.” Joel shook his head. It was clear they were speaking about Ellie and that made sense if him and her spent as much time here as they did. “You haven’t heard anythin' on the street have you, Tess?”

Tess narrowed her eyes at him, “I would’ve called if I had.” She did a double take when she noticed you and tilted her head. “Who’re you?”

You gave her your name with a small smile. “I’m a friend of Joel’s and⏤”

“Joel doesn’t have friends.” Tess responded.

Joel snorted. “Thanks.”

“I’m helping him find Ellie.” You clarified. Tess looked skeptical, as if she was about to mock and/or insult you, so you jumped in. “I work⏤ worked for the DMA.”

“And that’s helpful how?”

“Leave it alone, Tess.” Joel grunted. “You hear of a guy named… what was his name, sweetheart?”

“Tim Brancato.”

Tess’ eyes darted from Joel to you and back again. One of her eyebrows raised in question, and despite her claim that Joel had no friends, she must have known him well as that was all it took for him to understand her. Her hands fell to her hips and Joel scoffed, “Have you heard the name or not?”

“No. I haven’t.” She shook her head. “But I’ll make a call.”

Tess gave you one more glance before heading back to the kitchen. She caught a waitress by the arm and pointed her in your direction before disappearing into the back. The waitress quickly took your orders and brought you your drinks. You leaned your elbows on the counter.

“She seems nice.”

“You don’t gotta lie.”

“No, I mean it!” You shook your head quickly. “Maybe nice wasn’t the right word. She seems like she cares.” The woman reminded you a bit of Nima. Maybe not overall since Nima’s general vibe was ‘bubbly cheerfulness’ and Tess’ was more ‘casual homicide as a hobby’, but they were both protective. “Everybody deserves a friend who will go to war for them.”

Joel paused before giving you a small nod, “Tess and I go way back.”

“Is she a…” You started then paused to see the very human couple sitting only a couple stools down. “You know…” You lifted your hands to act like they were claws and briefly bared your teeth.

Joel’s lips broke out into a brief smile, but you were able to spot a dimple in his cheek, “What’re you doin' with your hands?”

“They’re⏤” You gasped, mock offended. “They’re very clearly claws. Thank you very much.”

Joel’s smile muted again, a moment of wistful, before it fell away. “No. She’s not. She’s human, but she’s involved in our community.” The two of you sat in a comfortable silence between one another. The sounds of the diner filling the air around you. Tess stepped back out and Joel stiffened. “So?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “My contacts don’t know the name.” Joel mumbled a curse and you found yourself praying that Din would find something. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“I don’t think so.” Joel dragged his hand over his jaw.

“Well, you know how to reach me if you need something, and I’ll reach out to you if I hear anything different.” Tess replied. He nodded. Her eyes drifted back to you. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Same.” You blurted quickly, not expecting the comment.

Tess left the space once more and you watched the mysterious woman go. She didn’t work for the DMA obviously which made you curious what her ties were in the community. A part of you wanted to ask Joel more details, but you assumed if he hadn’t offered them then he didn’t want to offer them.

Your food arrived a few minutes later and you ate in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but you found yourself glancing his way occasionally. Joel seemed lost in thought as he ate, and you wished you had more to offer him. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to your mother. If she were on this case she’d probably be much further ahead than you were. 

“My daughter made the bracelet.” Your head perked up at the sudden statement. Joel wasn’t looking your way. He stared ahead, picking at his food. “My other daughter. Before Ellie.”

The words and the tone in which he said it told you everything you needed to know and you felt your heart physically break in your chest. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to⏤”

“Don’t apologize. Had no way of knowin'.” Joel shrugged. “She’ll have been gone for seven years in March.” He took a long sip of his water. “Was an accident. Drunk driver sideswiped us on the road and my truck flipped.” Joel rubbed his hands on his jeans and shrugged. “Should’ve been me but it wasn’t. Driver hit us on my side. Made no sense why I⏤” He stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. “Ellie came into my life 'bout a year ago. The six in between were… not good.”

Your chest ached in empathy for this man. Parents should never have to lose a child. You literally could not even imagine the pain that came with that. And, when you thought about the fact that now Ellie was missing… Gods, it would’ve hurt less to have someone gut punch you.

“What… What was her name?” You asked softly then wished you could take it back. “You don’t have to… to answer.”

Joel shook his head. “Sarah. Her name was Sarah. She had just turned twelve.”

Only twelve? You were at a loss for words. Not that it mattered. There were no words that fit as a response. Nothing a person could say that would touch the magnitude of losing a young child. 

“I lost my mom.” Your mouth decided on what to say before your mind could fully agree and the words came out soft and hesitant. “A little over a year ago. It was an accident too.” You wrung your hands together in your lap and tried to ignore the burning of your eyes as tears threatened to spill. This wasn’t something you had really talked to anyone about openly. Not even Nima. People knew, but you just… hadn’t spent much time admitting it out loud. You swallowed and took a slow, calming breath. “I know it’s not the same, and I’m not trying to compare pain, I just…”

Joel shook his head, “Pain is pain.”

You hesitated for a second before reaching out to set a hand on top of his which was now resting on the counter. You gave a light squeeze, “I’m sorry, Joel. I know platitudes hardly help, but I really am sorry.”

Joel finally turned to look at you and the agony in his eyes could’ve knocked the air from your lungs. He slowly turned his hand over so he could squeeze your hand back. As he tightened his grip he sighed, “I��m sorry.” Joel shook his head. “I’m sorry 'bout your mom.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile in response, but it didn’t resolve the heartbreak in his eyes. The two of you eased back into a comfortable silence and it took a moment before you realized you still had his hand in yours. As you began to pull away, the diner door chimed open. It wasn’t a sound you would’ve paid much mind too, but the other people eating in the diner reacted in surprise. Joel’s hands fell from yours as you both turned around and it was Din, in all his Mandalorian glory, standing in the doorway.

“We need to talk.” Din said.

Joel threw cash onto the counter, enough to cover both meals, and dragged you out before you could complain. He shoved Din out into the parking lot. “Are you outta your damned mind? Out in public wearin' that??”

“I’m not usually in the public, but how else was I supposed to get your attention, dog?”

“We were gonna meet at her place!”

“I don’t want to wait. This needs discussing now.”

Joel hurried to his truck. You began to offer Din the front seat considering he was much larger than you in that bulky armor, but Joel grunted. “He can shove his shiny ass into the back. You’re up front, sweetheart.”

You shot Din an awkward smile and heard a string of muttered Mando’a as everyone climbed into the truck. You turned in your seat to face Din, “How’d you know where to find us?”

“I tracked you.”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself. Din nodded and said nothing further on the matter. A trend with this team, apparently. You sighed, “Okay, did you find Brancato?”

Din nodded, “Somewhat.”

“The fuck does somewhat mean?” Joel barked.

“You said he works undercover.” Din said and you nodded to the statement. “It’s with my kind.” You opened your mouth, but Din shook his head. “Not Mandalorians. Vampires. My leads tell me that there’s a high chance he’ll be at Carnal tonight.”

Joel scoffed, “The vampire club?? Why?”

“He’s working undercover to infiltrate a vampire coven.” Din said dryly. “And you’re asking why he’d be at Carnal?”

Joel swiveled his head around to glare at the man and you held your hands up to stop the fight before it began. “Okay. We can work with that. I didn’t know humans were allowed in Carnal. I thought it was a vampire only club.”

“It is.” Din nodded. “But pets are allowed.”

It took a beat for the words to click and your eyes widened. Joel rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath that you missed. Killing to drink humans was very illegal in the city for many obvious reasons. There were different ways vampires could get their hands on DMA approved blood, sold in packs, but if a vampire wanted a way to drink straight from a source the quickest, and most legal way, was a pet.

“Fine.” Joel snapped. “So you go there tonight⏤”

“I can’t go.”

“What??” Joel turned in his seat again and you leaned forward to lightly push his cheek so he was facing the road once more. “What exactly is your plan then? You want me to fuckin' walk in? Because if that’s what it takes I’ll⏤”

You interrupted his rising anger, “Why not, Din?”

“Mandalorians do not keep pets and we don’t frequent clubs that endorse it the way Carnal does.”

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing you’re not a real fuckin' Mandalorian anymore.”

“Joel!” You snapped. 

Din was stiff but he didn’t respond to the dig. You turned in your seat and tried to think of a working plan. Joel was nearing your apartment by time you settled on the only one you could think of, “I have to go.” Joel stomped on the breaks of his truck, haphazardly parking in a spot in front of your apartment. “Joel⏤”

“You nearly died once today. That wasn’t enough?!”

“We can’t trust anyone else to go in!” You argued. “I think Nima has a few vampire friends. I can ask one to⏤”

Joel shook his head, “Some random bloodsucker that we don’t know. That’s who you want in that hellhole with you?” You sighed and pushed out of the truck. Joel climbed out after you, Din as well, but it was Joel who stomped after you while the armored man followed along. “Please tell me I don’t have to explain why that’s a terrible idea.”

“Then give me a better one, Joel!” You yelled back. You unlocked your front door, held it open, and then pointed inside like a scolding mother. Joel marched past you with a huff and Din quietly entered as well. You weren’t sure how the vampire could be so quiet while wearing the equivalent of pots and pans. You slammed the door behind you and tossed your keys aside. “So far, this is the only lead we got. Roberts said we need to talk to this guy and time is of the essence. The sooner we find him and get the information we need the sooner we get to the kids.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair and his anger was palpable. You knew it stemmed from frustration, but you could see the slight tremble of his body. Muscles quivering as slivers of yellow stained his dark eyes. He was pacing the floor and you hoped that expenditure of activity would keep him from transforming.

“I’ll go.” 

Your head snapped to Din who had spoken. You shook your head, “Din, you won’t exactly fit in at Carnal with the armor. Like I said, I’ll call Nima and see if she can get me in touch with a vampire⏤”

“No. The dog is right.” Din replied and Joel growled at the name. “This is dangerous. You need someone who will be useful if a fight breaks out.”

“She needs to not go at all!”

“If I go, I need a human.” Din argued. “The undercover agent, if there, will be in the back where…” Din hesitated, shifted foot from foot, before finally blurting the words out when he couldn’t think of anything better. “Where a vampire can play with its pet.”

Joel buried his face in his hands, “Jesus fuckin' Christ.”

“I can remove my armor for this.” Your eyes widened in surprise. His helmet turned to you. “Is there somewhere…”

You pointed to the door behind him that led into a small guest bedroom. Din nodded once before disappearing behind it. You stared at the door in surprise. Even though the Mandalorian coven said he was no longer one of them, it was clear from the short time you knew him that it was still an important aspect of himself.

“Sweetheart,” Joel said and you glanced back at him, the anger had melted into just frustration, “This is a bad idea.”

“It’s our only idea, Joel.” You sighed. “If we had something else, trust me I’d go for it. I’m not exactly looking forward to going into a vampire club.” The stories and rumors you heard about those places made your skin crawl. “But this is for the kids. I can do this.” Joel locked his jaw before giving a curt nod. “And Din will be right there to help if need be.”

Joel muttered something again in response to that. You crossed your arms as something dawned on you, “He’s gonna need clothes for the club.” 

Joel shrugged and motioned to himself, “What am I supposed to do? Give him the shirt off my back?”

You rolled your eyes at his snippy comment and told him to behave while you visited your neighbor. Across the hall from you was a young guy you saw in passing. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but you were friendly. You’d pick up his mail when he was out of town, and he’d make sure no packages got stolen from your front door. He also happened to be around Din’s size and owned more than just flannel⏤ Joel’s staple wardrobe piece.

Your neighbor didn’t seem super psyched to see you knocking on his door a little past nine at night and looked even less pleased when you asked to borrow clothes. However, when you explained it was a bit of an emergency, leaving out the vampire and werewolf dilemma of it all, he begrudgingly offered you a simple suit.

When you returned to the apartment, you found Joel in the living room with his hands on his hips glaring at someone. You did a double take when you noticed Din. He had come out of the room sans armor and only had on the canvas material suit he wore under it. Din’s head turned to glance your way and you hadn’t expected to see such nervous energy in his features. It didn’t match the hard armor you had known him for. Din was handsome. No doubt. Enough so that you thought it a crime he’d been hiding it behind a helmet all these years. Tan skin, dark eyes, and equally as dark hair. As your eyes bounced between Joel and Din you were noticing a trend. Din looked younger with not a single strand of silver decorating his hair, and the messy hair atop his head was shorter than Joel’s. He also didn’t have nearly as much hair covering his jawline either. Just a bit of scruff. Joel looked bigger compared to Din who seemed on the slimmer side. Though it was hard to consider Din to be slim⏤ Joel was just huge.

“Wow.” You chuckled and pointed toward them. “You guys look a lot alike.” Joel and Din’s features both furrowed into different degrees of a glare as they looked back to one another then to you. “Seriously? You don’t see it?”

“Did you get the clothes or not?” Joel grunted.

You stared at them longer, still in awe. Whether they wanted to admit it or not the similarities couldn’t be denied. There was enough about them different that they stood apart from one another in more than just their physical features. Joel was radiating a gruff, grumpy demeanor that was far from approachable while Din currently leaned more toward a stoic nature. They both said your name and you startled.

“Right. Here, Din.” You held out the clothes. “I think they’ll fit.”

“They’re going to have to.” Din replied and the sound of his voice was so smooth without the helmet altering it. “Thank you.”

You gave him a thumbs up, lost for words, and backpedaled, “I should get ready too, I guess.”

Joel grumbled again about the bad idea, but even he seemed to realize there were very little other options. So, bad idea or not. It’s all you guys had.

It was past ten when you parked your car on the side of the road blocks away from where the entrance to the club would be. Din suggested you park at a distance and walk up to it rather than park close. Most of the time it took to get to this point was convincing Joel to go home and wait for the two of you to wrap this up. He wanted to sit on the street which seemed like an exceptionally poor idea. When you finally managed to convince him, it was only after he gave you his address and made you promise to come to his place after rather than your own. You thought a simple text of ‘I’m still living’ would be enough, you even joked so, but Joel didn’t appreciate it.

“So how long have you worn that helmet? Before tonight, I mean.” You asked curiously. As you walked side by side, a foot of distance separating the two of you, you squirmed and straightened your dress. Austin at night, towards the end of the year, had a slight chill in the air that left goosebumps pebbling up on your exposed skin. 

“I took the creed as a child.” Din replied. Vampires couldn’t have children except under very rare and specific circumstances. So Din, like any other Mandalorian, was adopted into the ranks. It was common with their coven which was one of the aspects that made them so unique to other covens. What confused you was taking the creed as a child.

“I thought taking the creed was synonymous to becoming a vampire? Kids don’t get turned though. Not legally, at least, and you wouldn’t look like…” You motioned to frame. Any child turned would never age and never develop.

Din shook his head, “Taking the creed is a separate action. By taking the creed you secure your place within the Mandalorian coven. The turning ceremony does not occur until one receives their first forge made armor.”

“Ah.” You nodded in understanding. “How long has it been since your ceremony?”

“Four years.”

Your feet came to a stop in surprise and Din glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyebrow was raised in question and he too squirmed in the clothes you had borrowed for him. You expected it was less the cold and more so the fit. The black suit jacket and button up shirt fit well enough, a bit tight around his shoulders, but his suit pants were a size too small based on how he kept readjusting himself. You shook your head, “Four years? You’ve only been a vampire for four years?” Din nodded as if still confused at your confusion. You began to walk again and mumbled, “I just expected you to be centuries old or something.”

Din chuckled, “Sorry to disappoint.”

There was a beat of silence before you spoke again, “Is this your first time without your helmet?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Din said, voice sharp. You twisted your lips and mumbled an apology. Curiosity tended to get the best of you often, and it was kind of interesting to be able to speak to a Mandalorian. You should have remembered the circumstance though and left it alone.

“No.” You were surprised to hear Din’s response. “I’ve taken it off before. That’s why I am considered an Apostate.”

You assumed that referred to his lack of a Mandalorian title and the disdain the coven leader had spoken about him in. Despite that stripping of the title, you still mentally considered him Mandalorian. Though you knew that kind of statement might not sit right with him. 

“Can I ask…” You hesitated since he had already scolded you for asking questions, but then he had enabled you by answering. “Why did you take it off before?”

“For my son. For Grogu.”

Your lips curled up into a smile. “I see. You know, I actually don’t know much of anything about your son. I never got to actually read the full report. How old is he?”

“He…” Din paused. “He looks to be five.” You narrowed your eyes in thought of the very specific word choice he used. He continued, “As I said before, he has vampiric tendencies, but I don’t actually know his genetic lineage. He was… Our paths crossed when I was hunting a bounty eight months ago.”

A silence settled between the two of you again and you assumed that meant he wasn’t going to delve into the details of said bounty. You gripped the strap of your purse a bit tighter and shrugged, “You know, I don’t think it should count as breaking the creed if you’re taking the helmet off for a good reason. Like for your son.”

“The coven wouldn’t agree with you.” Din replied then after a paused added, “But thank you.”

After a few blocks, Din grasped your wrist and carefully tugged you to a stop.

“We can’t go in yet.” 

“Why not?”

“You smell like a dog.”

You blinked in shock then held a hand to your chest mockingly, “Well, gee golly, Din. You sure know how to sweet talk a woman.”

“It’s your riduur. He’s ruining your scent.”

“That’s the second time someone has commented on ruining my scent.” You grumbled, but the first half of his statement registered in your mind a second late. “Riduur??”

Din nodded, “Your mate.”

“No. I know what a Riduur is.” You shook your head. “I meant, Joel is not mine. He’s not my mate.”

The Mandalorian’s eyes narrowed at you as if he were trying to puzzle out a lie and you raised your eyebrows at him in question. Din cleared his throat, “I was told by the coven that you claimed he was your riduur.” 

“Oh!” You waved your hand. “I did, but that was only because I didn’t want them to kill him.” Din held your gaze and you shrugged. “I knew the bond between Riduur is not one taken lightly and I prayed it’d be enough to get both of us out alive.” Surprise flitted across Din’s features. You shifted nervously in place. “Guess I got lucky. Or⏤ Or Joel did, I should say.”

Din shook his head and you thought the vampire looked impressed. “Not luck. Quick thinking. That was clever.”

“I have my moments.” You chuckled awkwardly⏤ unsure how else to accept the praise from him.

“Still,” Din glanced around, “The point remains. You reek of Joel Miller. May I⏤” He cleared his throat. “May I scent you?”

You mouthed the word in slight confusion. Logically it made sense. Walking into a vampire exclusive bar smelling like a werewolf was probably not ideal. You just weren't sure what that entailed. “Um, sure?” Din stepped closer and you felt your heart do a somersault. Nervous. You were nervous. An apex predator was close enough to easily rip your throat out, not that you thought Din would, but your body was naturally reacting to that. That was all. “What⏤How⏤ Scent.”

Din stared down at you, close enough you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact, and you mentally cursed your inability to form a coherent sentence. Din’s lips began to curl up into a smile until he suddenly steeled his features with a small shake of his head. “The quickest way to correct your scent is if I put my lips on you.”

“Put your lips on… Oh.”

Din paused and when you didn’t reply he gave a small nod. He coughed, “So, is that alright?”

“Hmm?” You blurted. He was waiting for permission. “Yes. Sure. Okay.”

“Stay still. I give you my word, I mean you no harm.”

You began to open your mouth to reply when Din ducked down to the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanned against your skin and you felt yourself stiffen in response. You heard him take a deep breath. “Gar klesir jatisyc.” Din mumbled the words close enough that his lips brushed against your skin. A chill went down your spine. He stayed there a moment more and you softly spoke his name. Din seemed to startle and he mumbled again, “Ni ceta.”

His lips warmly pressed to the side of your throat, lingering there, and then he turned your head to do the same to the other. When he pulled back, your face felt like it was burning. Din cradled your left wrist to set a kiss there as well, and you felt the tip of his tongue drag against your skin. You gasped, but Din didn’t seem phased. He did the same to your right wrist. Before he released your wrist, he dragged a finger across the healing cuts on your palm. You had used one of your emergency healing salves rather than just the routine human store bought stuff⏤ both on the burns on your face and your hands. 

“I’m sorry.” Din mumbled. “I didn’t mean for you to get injured. I shouldn’t have…” He lifted his gaze and they fell on your neck. There was no bruise there from his hand but he stared as if there were. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, Din.” You shrugged.

He didn’t seem to agree, but he dropped your wrist and took a large step back. “That’s better. Nobody should be able to smell Joel unless they get close, and I don’t plan on letting any other vampire get that close.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded quickly. “I⏤ I do like that plan.”

Din let out a soft chuckle and motioned toward the sidewalk. Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched him. Stoic would’ve been the perfect word to describe, hell you had thought it not that long ago, but looking at him now you weren’t quite sure it fit. Din was shockingly easy to read. You could see nervousness in his brow, worry in his eyes, tension drawn along his features, and the downward curl of his lips conveyed anxiety. The thought lingered in your mind for a beat until it dawned on you why.

His helmet.

If Din had worn that helmet since he was a child he never had to worry about concealing his emotions. The metal did it for him. Your lips parted to comment on it, ask a question, when Din suddenly reached out toward you.

“We’re close.” He said. “Can I touch you?”

“Sure.” You nodded. Din’s arm wrapped over your shoulder so he could pull you into his side as you walked. Instinctively, you wrapped your own arms around his torso. The permission of touch had kind of been implied when you agreed to this plan together, but you found it cute that he still asked explicitly. “When we’re inside, it’s… it’s okay to touch me how you need to. I heard rumors about these kind of places, and I⏤ I trust you.”

Din furrowed his brow. Again, all his emotions of confusion and surprise drawn on his face. “You do?”

“Yeah. We’re a team, remember?” You chuckled.

“Right.” Din mumbled and focused his attention ahead. 

Being that you were already close, and getting closer with each step, you chose to keep your mouth shut and let Din lead. The alley he took you down was the exact kind you would avoid as a woman at night, but with Din wrapped around you there was little room for fear. At the end of the alley was a set of stairs that led down to a door that seemed would open into a basement. 

Curiosity rose up in you, that same eagerness for knowledge hungry for more, and you watched as Din lifted his thumb to his mouth to bite down at the tip. Black blood welled up there and he smeared it on the silver doorknob. It glowed briefly and Din was able to push it open.

“Cool.” You breathed without even realizing it. Din glanced your way and you realized you had spoken the excitement aloud and the back of your neck burned. 

The hall was nearly pitch black, but Din seemed to have no trouble navigating it. You were led down another set of spiraling stairs this time and as you got deeper into the Earth the sound of a booming bass began to vibrate around the two of you. You took in a slow breath to try and steady your nerves. Din squeezed your shoulders in comfort. It emptied out into a hall basked in red and the two of you were no longer alone. 

Eyes, glowing silver like an animal under the red lights, turned to stare. You could barely hear yourself think with the blasting music and the pounding of your heart in your ears as hungry eyes found you. Din tightened his grip on you again. You glanced up at him and your eyes widened at the silver glow of his own eyes⏤ narrowed into a glare that he aimed at the surrounding vampires. One of the others, a male dressed in a maroon suit that seemed brighter in this hall, stepped in front of the two of you. A low growl rumbled deep in Din’s throat as his teeth clenched together threateningly. 

“Calm down, buddy.” The man chuckled. “I mean your pet no harm.” He dragged his eyes over your body. It wasn’t the first time a creepy man looked at you in a way that made you feel like a meal, but this was the first time it was happening literally. “Just the two of you?” Din gave a curt nod. “And business?”

Din huffed. He turned to face you, pressing his face to the side of yours, and took in a deep breath that made you shudder. Din’s deep, hoarse voice let the next word roll off his tongue, as the hand from the arm wrapped around you found your hair and tugged it just enough to tilt your chin up and reveal your throat. “Pleasure.”

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and the other vampire chuckled. “Go ahead. Enjoy.”

He stepped out of the way allowing you and Din to enter the club. It was one large room with various stages and levels. The entire space was dimly lit and certain areas had thick red curtains closing it off from public view. Directly in front of you was a dance floor. The throngs of people congested like a mob undulated with the best. Beyond it, on a stage, was a long and busy bar.

“You’re safe.” Din whispered the words in your ear, a chill shimmering down your spine, before he led your forwards. 

Din stayed focused on where you stepped and you were eternally grateful for that considering you were too distracted to pay attention yourself. Din curved around the dance floor, understandably so, but it forced the two of you to walk past lines of booths that encircled the space. A few booths looked no different than one you would sit in with Nima, drinking and chatting, but a few starkly different. One booth had a scantily clad woman laid mostly bare on the table as three or four vampires drank from her. A clear reminder that this was not your usual bar. The vampire drinking from the woman’s neck lifted her eyes to meet yours and you couldn’t help but curl tighter into Din’s side.

The bar was obviously the goal location and you were relieved when you finally reached it just because it was less intimidating than the rest of the club. The bartop itself was lit up bright white which made it possibly the most well lit area of the club. Din carefully maneuvered you onto a stool, but he didn’t sit himself. He stayed pressed against your side with one hand leaning on the bar and the other on your waist. It was a dominant stance. Protective. 

“What can I get you?” The vampire working the bar asked. Her eyes were reflecting the glow of the bartop and it gave the dark skinned woman an ethereal look. 

You opened your mouth to order, but Din squeezed your waist firmly. He nodded, “A shimmer.”

The bartender nodded and you raised an eyebrow in question. Din offered no further clarification. Instead, he pressed his lips to your ear. “We need to go to the back”

“Right. The pet zone.” You whispered.

“I suppose that’s one name for it.” No part of Din scared or worried you, but the words still managed to make you blanch in discomfort. You glanced back at the woman laid out on a table top, but Din shook his head. “She’s not a pet. Club owns her.”

You had ten thousand questions to ask, but were too worried to let a single one out. The bartender came back with a tall, slender glass. The liquid inside looked like the night sky. Black with silver glitter swirling inside of it. Din pushed the glass into your hands and paid for it. You lifted the glass to smell it and the aroma wasn’t something you could pinpoint exactly, but it made you think of the hot summer days where your mother would take you down to Barton Springs to cool off. Sunscreen lotion, sweet popsicles, and the carefree laughter shared between the two of you. A dizzying smile crossed your lips.

“Don’t drink it.” Din murmured into your ear as he helped you off the stool. “Just hold it.”

He began to walk you down the length of the bar. The further you pulled the drink from your face the more clear headed you felt. You stared into the swirling silver. “What is this?”

“Shimmer.” He repeated the name. “It’s used on pets. It’ll sweeten your blood.”

“Just smelling it made me feel like my head was in a cloud.” You mumbled. “And it smelled like…”

“Like a memory.” Din nodded. “A happy one.” The two of you reached a back corner where velvet curtains covered a doorway and a gruff man in a clean suit stood guard. “Adjustments make it easier to control a pet. You’ll notice everyone back here is probably on it.”

You had never heard of anything like this before and as Din led you closer to the guard you wondered how legal this stuff was. The guard studied the two of you for a minute, inhaling a deep breath that made you nervous. What if he caught a whiff of Joel on you? The anxiety was short lived though as he pulled the velvet curtain aside. 

The back room was even smaller⏤ cozier. There were booths with privacy curtains and another, smaller, bar in the back. Each booth had a curtain for the option of privacy, but not everyone used them. A young woman drifted over to speak to Din and as he responded your attention was pulled away by a fearful whimper. 

In one of the closest booths, there was a woman, close to your age, sitting on the lap of a vampire who physically looked significantly older than her. Her back was pressed to his chest as his teeth sunk into the crook of her neck. Tears streaked down her face as she whimpered. Her eyes were blown wide in terror as she stared at nothing⏤ just zoned out. You mumbled Din’s name in panic. You were under the impression the official vampire and pet relationship was consensual but this did not look the sort. The glass sitting on the table in front of them looked like yours, but it was nearly empty and rather than silver it had a purple shine to it. 

“She’s okay. I promise. She’s fine.” Din murmured and pulled you away. The woman he had been speaking to was leading you both to an empty booth.

All the booths looked uniform. Circular in shape, a low table in the middle, seats made of dark leather, and a red velvet curtain hanging from the ceiling to be used if needed.

"Keep the curtain closed if you're gonna fuck." The woman leading you said offhandedly. Din sat down and you were caught off guard when he pulled you to straddle his lap. A precarious position due to the short length of your dress. He waved a hand and the woman huffed before drawing the curtains herself. When they closed entirely a glowing sphere of light activated high above the two of you to offer light.

Din quickly readjusted to move you off his lap and he cupped your face to examine your features, “Are you alright?”

“I am. That girl⏤”

“Shiver.”

“What?”

Din took the cup from your hand to set on the table. “Yours is Shimmer. A happy memory. There are… other adjustments based on what they want to do to the blood’s flavoring.” You furrowed your brow in surprise. “Shimmer. Shiver. Simmer. Smolder.” He shrugged. “Those are the ones I can think of. I know there are more.” 

“Each one makes the blood taste different and they…” You thought back to how terrified the woman looked. “They evoke different memories.” He nodded. “So if Simmer is a happy memory…”

“Shiver is a memory of fear.”

You couldn’t imagine someone agreeing to relive a memory of nightmares just because a vampire had a taste for fear in the blood. Then again, up until now, you had never imagined agreeing to be a vampire’s pet. The wording of that thought gave you pause and you glanced away from the glass in your hands to Din’s face. He was watching you with concern and curiosity. You weren’t imagining being his pet. Not really. Not seriously at least. Not that you minded the idea of Din and his lips and teeth and tongue… Well, that wasn’t⏤ You weren’t⏤ It was⏤

“Jate’ika? Are you okay?”

“Just⏤ My brain is just, uh, nevermind.” You set the glass down on the table and pushed it further away from you. Were the fumes still invading your senses? What the hell? You cleared your throat. “Brancato. We gotta find him.”

Din nodded in agreement. “The sooner the better.” He stood up. “Stay here in the booth. I’ll be back.”

“You want to separate? In this vampire club??”

“The room is small. I can get back to you with ease if need be.” Din shook his head. “And I won’t be long. I just want to see if I can find the Agent.”

You twisted your lips but gave a quick nod. Din squeezed your hand and then slipped out of the curtain. You squirmed in your seat and smoothed out your dress nervously. You wished you had your gun. It would do nothing against a vampire, other than mildly annoy or irritate them, but you wanted the comfort of it on you all the same. A few moments passed before the curtains slid open and you were surprised by how quick he had been.

“Din⏤”

Din did not step in.

A different man burst through in a rush, but he was human like you. There was no animalistic glow to his eyes. He wore a navy sports blazer over a tight, gray v-neck with matching khaki dress pants. Around his neck was a leather collar that you’d find at a pet store. The man had a boyish look to him with messy, dirty blond hair and a clean shaven jaw. Freckles were brushed over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Oddly though, his gray blue eyes looked genuinely irritated with you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” He demanded in a hushed voice. He took a seat by you and set the drink in his hand next to yours. The lighting in this booth made the color hard to distinguish in the black liquid. “Are you out of your godsdamned mind showing up in this place??”

You lifted a hand to point at him with wide eyes, “Tim Brancato.”

“Shh!” He shushed you. “Call me Justin.”

“How do you know⏤”

“Roberts warned me you’d be looking for me, but he didn’t tell me you’d be stupid enough to show up here.” Tim scoffed. 

You were still curious as to how he recognized you so easily, but you had more important questions to ask and for some reason you were struggling to get a single one out. “Sorry. I’m glad we found you though, or⏤ or you found us, I should say.”

Time narrowed his eyes at you for a beat then shook his head, “Who are you here with?”

“My vampire.” You held a hand to your chest. “He’s a Mandalorian.”

“A Mandalorian came in⏤”

“Well, he’s not in armor right now. He’s⏤”

“Then he’s not a Mandalorian.”

“It’s⏤” You tilted your head with a wince, “It’s sort of a long story and we don’t have a lot of time⏤” His hands suddenly grabbed your face and you tensed. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Tim scoffed and let go, “You’re high.”

“No, I’m not.” You shook your head, though your head did feel a bit swimmy, “I didn’t drink the⏤ the shimmer.”

“Are you wearing a plug?” Tim demanded. You opened your mouth then froze⏤ eyes narrowing in confusion. There was a very solid chance that the plug he was asking about was not the kind you now had in mind. The back of your neck burned as you struggled to answer. He shook his head and reached into his coat pocket. “Lean your head back.” Without hesitation, you leaned your head back and as you stared up at the glowing light above you realized that maybe you shouldn’t be following the commands of someone you didn’t actually know. He grabbed the side of your face once more and held a dropper over your nose. Each drop he released into your nostrils felt thick and tacky and as it rolled deeper to coat your sinuses and reach the back of your throat, it gave the sensation of choking. “There.”

You straightened your head and began to cough, “What was⏤”

“They aerosolized an adjustment back here. Not enough to evoke a memory, but enough to impair judgment.” Tim responded. “That won’t get what’s in your system out completely, but it'll let it wear off while keeping you from getting any worse.”

“Oh, thanks.” You rubbed your nose in discomfort. “Putting that stuff in the air seems… questionable.”

Tim scoffed, “Look, some of the folks I see run through here have a healthy, consensual pet relationship, but I also see a lot of blurred lines as well. Just keep your guard up while you’re here, alright?” He shook his head. “Now, Roberts didn’t tell me why you were looking for me.” You nodded in confirmation and he lifted an eyebrow. “So?”

“Oh, uh, right.” You tried to collect your thoughts so you could pull them together. Tim rolled his eyes at you, and you felt a flare of irritation. You scoffed, “Hey, just give me a second here, my brain is filled with vampire fog right now.” Tim shrugged and continued to wait. You huffed, “The kids. The missing kids. All over Austin⏤ We’ve had a huge string of mixed kids disappearing, and the DMA isn’t investigating. Hell, they’re ignoring it! I confronted Roberts and he said he couldn’t help, but to find you because you can.”

Tim nodded his head slowly, humming in thought, then shook his head, “Can’t help.”

“Excuse me!?” You cried. The curtain was snapped open and you jumped in place until your eyes landed on Din. The Mandalorian tensed with a glare leveled at Tim, but you felt yourself relax marginally just having him near. You motioned to the man sitting beside you, “It’s him.” Din nodded, saying nothing further, and you focused back on Tim. “Now, what the hell do you mean you can’t help?”

“Roberts never said he was sending you to me for this.” Tim scoffed. “I’m not interested in helping.” Din stepped forward, arms crossed, and the glare he leveled at the undercover agent was deadly. Tim scoffed, but you did see the stiffening of his spine, “You gonna sick your big, bad vampire on me?”

“No. But I’ll tell your vampire that your name isn’t really Justin.” You threatened.

Tim’s eyes narrowed briefly, but a slow smirk crossed his features, “You wouldn’t do that. It’s a death sentence for me and I can tell you’re not the kind to ruin a man’s life.”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to be. For the sake of Ellie and Grogu and every other kid taken from their parents, you wished you could. There was a lump in your throat keeping the words trapped in your chest and Tim saw it clear as day. 

Din hummed, “She’s too good of a person to kill you, but I’m not.” The Mandalorian grabbed Tim by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him off the booth. Tim grabbed the vampire’s hands, but he was no match for Din’s strength. “You’re gonna talk, and you better hope we like what you have to say. Otherwise, it’s not the other vampires you’re gonna have to worry about, human.”

“Just give it up. It’s over now.” Tim hissed. “The kids missing are gone, but it’ll be years before more get taken.”

Din snarled as you stood up with wide eyes, “What does that mean??”

Tim didn’t get a chance to answer. The curtains swung open to reveal two beefy men dressed like the vampire guarding the entrance to this back room. Security. Din didn’t release the agent, but both men froze in surprise. 

“There’s been a noise complaint. What is the meaning of this??” One demanded.

Tim didn’t respond, mouth agape, and Din remained silent as well. His hands tightened in their grip on the man’s lapels. Your eyes darted between them both a second more before rushing forward. You stepped under Din’s arm, forcing him to drop his grip on Tim, and laid your own hands on his chest. With a frown and a shake of your head, you let the nervous energy you felt slip into your tone. “He just came in and wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Instinctively or not, Din wrapped his arms around you and shifted so his body blocked you from Tim and the two security guards. Tim narrowed his eyes at you, jaw locking, but he wasn’t in the position to deny it. His only other excuse would be he was talking about the DMA. One of the security guards grabbed him by the upper arm, “Who do you belong to?”

“Ranzar Malk.” Tim sighed.

The two guards grunted before dragging Tim away from your booth. Din’s hands tightened around you as he whispered, “Jate’ika, are you alright?”

“No, I’m annoyed.” You mumbled. “That got us nowhere, Din.”

“I think we should leave.”

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head. “We need to find out what he meant.”

“He’s a pet to Ranzar.” Din said firmly and began to tug you out. “We can’t stay.”

You were trying to puzzle out the significance of that. It wasn’t a big enough name that it stood out to you, but you weren’t overly familiar with the vampire circles. You allowed Din to tug you forward, but one of the guards from before slid into your path.

“Ran would like to see you.”

Din cursed then shook his head, “We’re not interested.”

“It wasn’t a request, newcomer.” The guard grunted. 

He turned to lead, and Din pulled you tight into his side then followed. This would give you the opportunity to address Tim again, though it’d be difficult in front of the vampire Tim was serving. Maybe if Din could distract this Ran then you could do something? 

The booth the two of you were led to was much larger than the one you and Din shared. Oval in shape with three small, circular tables in front of it to hold drinks. You spotted multiple vampires lounging in the booth with their humans surrounding them. You tried to avoid making direct eye contact with the ones being actively bitten. The sight of it just seemed to make your skin crawl. At what you would consider the head of the booth sat a heavy set man. He leaned back with one arm resting on the back of the booth. Thick, wavy gray hair went past his shoulders to match the thick beard he sported, and the color also matched the animalistic glimmer to his eyes. Tucked against his side, under the arm outstretched, was a human woman. She wore a tight, pink dress with a draped collar held around her neck with a gold chain. Her blonde hair, so light it looked white under the lights, was stick straight down her back and the freckles across the bridge of her nose were also decorated with glitter she had painted across it. On his other side, kneeling on the ground by the man’s boot like a dog was Tim.

“Oh, you’re a cute thing.” The vampire, Ran you were assuming, cooed at you. “No wonder my pet couldn’t leave you alone.” Ran’s eyes dragged up and down your figure slowly. You leaned against Din just as he tightened his hold on you. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I mean you no harm. Just wanted to apologize to your master.” Ran’s eyes snapped to Din and his lips stretched out into a grin. “I train my pets to behave better than Justin did tonight. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to bother your little toy.”

Din gave a tight nod. There was actual anger in the set to Din’s brow, an emotion you didn’t fully understand, and the tension in his frame was obvious. He was holding you so tight that it was beginning to become uncomfortable.

“My name is Ranzar Malk, but you can call me Ran.” He chuckled. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” Din didn’t respond and you squirmed uncomfortably. “What is it? You have a problem with me? I’ve already apologized for my pet’s behavior. Don’t be a dick. We’re all friends here.”

When Din still didn’t respond, you nervously chimed up, “We’re just passing through⏤”

“He wasn’t speaking to you, blood bag.” A woman hissed. Her black hair was tied off into two high pigtails that would look silly on any other person, but the cruel grin on her face somehow made it look terrifying. She pushed to stand and drifted closer as if to grab you, “Hasn’t anybody taught you your place⏤”

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Din snarled and pulled you back so you were hidden behind him.

The woman hissed at him in anger, but Ran waved his hand, “Xi’an! Sit your ass down.” She glared at Din but finally dropped back into her seat roughly yanking a petite brown skinned woman onto her lap to drink from. Ran shook his head, “I know your voice. Why do I know your voice?” Din stayed silent and now kept you behind him, entirely hidden from the man. A low chuckle filled the air, “Wait a minute, wait a minute. No way. Mando?? Is that you??”

“Holy shit.” A different vampire off to the side, a man with a shaved head, pulled his fangs out of a woman’s wrist to chime in. “Nuh uh.”

“It is. That’s fucking Mando.” Ran laughed. “You’re dressed down tonight, friend.”

“I’m not your friend.” Din snapped.

“This is rich.” The man with the shaved head, mouth painted red with blood, chuckled. “Where’d that shiny armor go, metal man?”

“Come on. Sit. I insist.” Ran motioned to the spot beside him. “For old times’ sake.”

Din hesitated and you squeezed his arm once in encouragement. You didn’t know the history here, and you hated that these people that Din clearly did not care for were seeing his face, but neither of you could leave without more information from Tim. Otherwise this was a waste. He’d have taken his helmet off for nothing. Finally, Din stepped forward to sit down in the seat offered to him. He tugged you into the seat on his side away from Ran and Xi’an and closer to the other man. Apparently he was the lesser of the three evils.

“I didn’t think Mandalorians kept pets.” Ran teased. “Thought it was beneath your kind.”

“Well, can’t you see, Ran?” Xi’an lifted her lips from the woman on her lap’s neck. “He’s not a Mandalorian anymore apparently.” Din stiffened again. “Pretty boy seems possessive over the girl. Is that why you gave up the tin can helmet?”

Ran chuckled, “For him to give up that precious creed, her blood has gotta be something special.” He motioned toward you and spoke as if you weren’t even there. “You fucking her too, Mando?”

Xi’an scoffed with a mocking sneer, “Ran, can’t you remember? Mando don’t like pussy.”

“The way I remember it, it’s just your pussy he don’t like, Xi’an.” The man beside you laughed. Xi’an bared her fangs and snarled at him. Ran laughed along with the man who spoke and you hated every second of this. Din was trying to keep his face straight, but the hatred in his eyes was clear and just being here in this group made you uncomfortable for him. 

Ran hummed, his gaze on you again, “You know, after all the jobs I kicked your way, Mando, I feel like you kind of owe me.”

“No.” Din spat the single word out in a dangerous, dark tone. 

“You don’t even know what I was gonna suggest!” Ran chuckled.

“I know enough about you to guess.” Din snarled. Even as someone who didn’t know the vampire, you could read a room enough that his tone made you blanch in disgust. Your eyes darted to Tim who you found was already staring at you. His eyes darted down to his hand then back up to you. A pointed look. You glanced down and he opened his palm just enough for you to see a single stick, small syringe of something dark red. Dead man’s blood? It looked like the vampire sedatives made at the DMA. When you met Tim’s gaze again they darted to Ran.

A terrible, terrible, terrible idea came to mind. You lifted your head up to press your lips to Din's ear and murmured quiet enough that only he’d hear. “Suggest a trade. Me for Tim.” Din didn’t want to turn his head to you, but the grip he suddenly had on your thigh was enough to show his distaste. You sighed. “Trust me?”

“What’s the little lady whispering about?” Ran teased.

Din didn’t immediately answer. You didn’t think vampires could be nauseous, but that was the best way to describe the brief look that crossed Din’s face. Finally, he spoke in a tense tone. “I’ll trade.”

“No shit?” Ran guffawed. “Alright. You want little Alana here?” The girl leaning against Ran offered Din a small wave, a quirk to her lips making it clear she enjoyed her position here to some degree. “She’s a fun one.”

Din shook his head, “Him. I want him.”

“Justin?” Ran asked. Din nodded. “Hell, alright. That’s not usually what I use this one for, but he’s getting punished tonight regardless.” Ran grabbed Tim by the hair and pulled his head back with a glare. “He’ll behave real good for you since I know he doesn’t wanna piss me off more.”

Ran shoved Tim away and he rose to his feet. You stood as well to shimmy past the tables and in passing you felt him discreetly push the vial into your hand. Din stood behind you, his hands on your waist, and Ran shouted a biting comment to the other two vampires before motioning for you and Din to follow along. Din’s fingers dug into your skin as you got closer to some smaller, more private booths, and you had a feeling he was tempted to grab you and run. 

Ran stopped and pointed to a booth to the left, “All yours, Mando.” The large vampire reached out to you with a sickening grin and when you tried to step toward him Din wouldn’t let go. You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of her. You just enjoy your time with mine, yeah?”

Din finally released you and you took in a shaky breath before stepping closer to Ran. He set a hand on your lower back before ushering you into the booth across from the one he offered Din. The moment you were in, he tugged the curtain closed. With Din out of sight, your anxiety began to rise to new highs. Ran hummed and sat down on the booth with a grunt. He eyed you hungrily, “Mando certainly has good taste. You smell sweet, honey.” Ran gave his thigh a pat and you bit back a wave of disgust. “Come to daddy.”

You set your purse down and crossed the space to him. This was for the kids. This was for Joel and Din. This was for a cause bigger than you. Steeling yourself, you carefully straddled his lap and his bare hands grasped the back of your thighs to drag up and grope your ass. Bile tried to claw up your throat as a wave of nausea overtook you. It took all your power to not gag and flinch at his touch.

“You look so nervous, honey.” Ran cooed. You forced a tight lipped smile then leaned forward to rest your arms on his shoulders. He squeezed your ass again, “Now, that’s better.”

Ran buried his face where your shoulder met your neck and inhaled deeply. A groan slipped from his lips and you felt his tongue drag up your skin to right under your jaw. He leaned in closer and you wrapped your arms around him tighter⏤ adjusting the syringe in your hand accordingly. When you felt a sharp fang nick at your skin, you buried the needle into the flesh at the back of his neck. Ran shoved you back furiously and you only barely caught yourself before falling to the ground.

“You bitch⏤” Ran muttered, but his eyes were already fluttering. His head collapsed back against the booth as his entire body sagged into the seat. 

It was only then that you realized you were panting. There was a tremble in your hands that you tried to shake away as you straightened your posture. Disgusted, you rubbed at your neck desperately trying to rub away his saliva and touch.

Quickly, you grabbed your purse and ducked out of the curtain. Nobody seemed to notice when you took the few steps to slip through the curtains of the booth across from you. You had only barely stepped in when familiar hands grabbed you.

“Told you she’d figure it out.” Tim hummed from where he sat on the booth casually.

Din rubbed your arms and shook his head, “Did he hurt you?” His hand lifted to your neck and his eyes widened when you felt his thumb brush against a tender spot. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine, really.” It felt like you had said that a lot today for a lot of very absurd situations.

“That was a shit idea. I never should’ve let you do that.” Din scoffed.

“To be fair, I knew it was a terrible idea.” You gave him an awkward smile. “But it worked.”

Din sighed and looked like he was prepared to argue with you on that opinion. You stepped past him to sit beside Tim. Din joined you and you were caught off guard when he settled his hand around the back of your neck⏤ cradling it softly. The weight and warmth were oddly a comfort that helped distract from the unwelcome touch you were still trying to forget.

“Alright, talk.” You snapped. “What did you mean by what you said earlier?”

Tim heaved a sigh but crossed his legs and nodded, “This isn’t a new problem. Since the DMA was established, this has been occurring.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “It’s usually every decade or so, but in the past it was done with more precision. Only a few kids were taken and their disappearances separated with enough time to avoid suspicion. Taken from different locations too.”

“Taken for what and by who?!” You demanded.

“How much do you know about the people who established the DMA?”

“It was the Weston family and they worked with the Olympians to create an agency that would benefit the supernatural world.” You replied. “They were the original founders.”

Tim nodded, “That’s the who.”

“The… The Weston family?” You shook your head. “Seriously?” Tim nodded again. There were portraits on the wall painted in the honor of the original members of the DMA in the lobby of the building. That’s the connection Miles Jackson had relation wise. He was the great grandson to one of the Weston members still on the board. Other than him though, you had never seen any of these people in person. “But… But why??”

Tim shrugged, “Humans work with the gods long enough, they start to wonder, ‘Why can’t I be immortal too?’” Your eyes widened at the implication. “It’s a ceremony. You can’t create new energy, only transfer it. They take it from the kids and it buys them a decade.”

“Humans did this??” Din snapped.

You held a hand out and shook your head, “This is… There is no way people just let this happen. You know all this and yet you do nothing?? Roberts knows this!?”

“You’re young. You’re naive.” Tim said with a scoff. “So I’ll forgive you for not understanding. This is bigger than all of us. The Weston family? They aren’t to be trifled with. And if a few kids every decade is the price to pay to appease them then it’s worth it.”

“Not to the parents of the kids they stole!” You snapped.

Tim held your gaze for a long moment, glanced at Din as well, then sighed again. “The reason I know is because I used to be a Captain. This is the kind of information only high ranking officials get let in on. When I first found out, I was disgusted. I wanted to fight it. But a battle against that family isn’t the kind you win.” He shook his head. You felt light headed at the news⏤ dizzy even. The room felt like it was beginning to tilt. “That’s why I gave up my status and took a role in the undercover scene.”

“You ran is what you did.” You pushed the words out forcefully while glaring at him. “You and Roberts both. You’re cowards.”

“You can’t save the world. It’s not meant to be saved. Terrible shit happens all the time and all you can do is protect your own and hope for the best.” Tim said.   

There was a buzzing in your purse that made you pause. You glanced down to pull out your phone. Meanwhile, Din’s hand squeezed your neck lightly as he spoke up. “Where are they?” There was a growl underlying his voice. “Where is my son?”

“I’m not privy to that stuff anymore, but I know they’d need a big, empty space. Someplace abandoned.” Tim shrugged. You read your screen and saw Joel had sent a number of texts asking about what was going on. The words blurred as you tried to read them. You squinted to focus, but the only thing on your screen big enough to be read clearly were the numbers ‘11:55’ in big font on the front of your screen. “Is that Joel? As in Joel Miller?” Your head snapped up in surprise. Tim blinked at you then tilted his head. “You’re working with Joel Miller. Really?”

“So?”

Tim shrugged, “I just didn’t expect that after what happened to your mom.”

The room began to spin and it felt like you were sinking⏤ your limbs felt heavy. You struggled to speak, “What⏤ What are you… I⏤ I…”

“Hey.” Tim leaned forward and titled your head to look into your eyes. You heard Din murmur your name. “Hey. Stay with me. Did Ran make you drink something?” You shook your head, but even Tim was difficult to see now. Your skin felt hot. Hot enough that you wanted to peel it off your muscles and bone⏤ strip yourself into nothingness. “Did he touch you?” 

Din’s hand on the back of your neck, which was once a comfort, made the heat worse. You tried to shake it off, but he didn’t budge. Din spoke, “What’s wrong with her?”

“Get her up. Check her skin.”

You felt Din drag you up and hands brushed against your arms, neck, shoulders, and legs. There was a pinch along your thigh as if someone was picking something off. Din held a little black square in his fingers and you felt woozy while standing. “What is this?”

“He drugged her. She should be fine with it off, but she’s gonna wake up with a nasty headache.” Tim shook his head and stood as well. “You should get her out of here. Fresh air might help.” You watched with unfocused eyes as Din tucked your phone into your purse, wrapped it around you, and then gripped your side to help you stand. Tim chuckled. “You know, Roberts was right. You would’ve made a good Agent.”

That was the exact opposite of what Roberts had told you, and days prior it would’ve made you preen with pride at the statement. However, now it just left you with a gross feeling you couldn’t attribute to the drugs. “I don’t want anything to do with the DMA.”

Tim gave a small shrug and you watched him disappear out the curtain with a mumbled ‘good luck’. 

Din was quick to drag you out and traveling through the club again was a blur of noise and light. It wasn’t until chilly night air filled your lungs that the blurriness began to alleviate marginally, but in its place was a heaviness of your body, mind, and heart. You felt Din scoop you up, but as you stared up at the sky you got lost in the stars.

Mando'a Translations:

Gar klesir jatisyc. [you smell delicious.] Ni ceta. [Sorry.]

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[lucysgraybird]

another lil farmers daughter!reader x billy. extremely self indulgent, not proofread, the whole works. enjoy!

it's been a few weeks since billy first arrived in your little jagged slice of midwest, and trust has bloomed between you two faster than the grass you coax life back into after every brutal winter. he indulges you in a way that no one ever has - hes never once criticized your choice to stay in this tiny, failing town, or asked why you ramble through places so ruinous. instead, he indulges you, pointing out wildflowers that might be nice to pick and place on graves on one of your walks through the local cemetery, and accompanies you on late-night wanderings through town. on more than one occasion, especially as the dog days of august start to roll in, these walks end in his motel room. it's nothing untoward; he's never once tried anything with you, but honestly, for all its failings, the motel is air conditioned and as temperatures hover around 80 even in the darkest depths of the night and humidity makes everything sticky and thick, the icy air that rattles from the window unit is more than welcome.

he pulls you to lean your head on the soft muscle where shoulder meets chest, perfectly angled for him to pet through your hair, which is sticky and tangling with cooling sweat. it is quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the neon sign outside, and you stare at the whorls in the wood paneling on the walls.

it is not so much that you were expecting billy to never leave as you were trying to ignore the eventuality. you know no one stays in a place like this, but your heart twists in a way you've never felt before when he tugs on a strand of your hair and tells you that he's gotten word that the job is starting soon - a tornado tore through the site, can you believe that? it's taken them weeks to get it back up and running - and he'll be driving out in a few days' time. he indulges your silence for a moment, then rushes out a plea for you to come with.

you think about the past few weeks. it's cheesy, but you realize how much of a monotony you've been living in when you're with him. he never tries to interrupt it, but by just being there he has lit up your world. things are less aimless while he's around, ramblings have a purpose beyond something to just occupy your time.

in your contemplation, you have become silent, and billy presses his cheek to the top of your head. he says he knows it's a big ask and, hey, listen, this job will take a couple of months. why don't you think about it and talk to your parents? he'll understand if you can't leave, he won't hold it against you. he told you he admired your connection to this place when he first met you, and that hasn't changed.

when you're tucked into bed that night, you pray and question and think. what, exactly, is it that keeps you here? is it your parents? they're not elderly and they do well by themselves as much as anyone does here, they'd be okay if you left so long as you promised to visit. it's not any old friends or valued places. as you tumble these thoughts in your head, you realize that nothing is keeping you here so much as you've never had a reason to leave, and suddenly, maybe, you do? you do. it's not abandoning your history, it's something that you'll always carry with you in the way you talk and love and pray, in the way that your first instinct will always be to help a neighbor. it's expanding it, allowing for more, allowing for...well, you suppose you'll find out.

so over the next three months, you pack up your life. you talk your parents into letting you go at all - you have money saved, you promise your mother, if things go south, you can make it on your own or come back home. you won't be stuck. it's something that's equally as important to you as it is to her; you refused to be stuck in the narrative that you should've left this town years ago, you refuse to be stuck anywhere else, either. your childhood bedroom in boxes is staggering to see. there's an ache to see how few boxes it took to pack up your life.

when billy returns, he insists on loading them into his truck. your father insists on helping him, presumably to give billy the shovel talk that you catch snippets of and has you burning red in the face. at the end of it, though, he's clapping billy on the back and shaking his hand, then turning to hug you in a way that is both more fierce and more tender than you think he ever has. your mother just squeezes your hand and extricates a promise of a labor-day visit home from you before you climb into the passenger seat of billy's truck. he lets you choose the cd for the drive from your hometown down to new mexico, and just rests a hand on your thigh and rubs with his thumb when you begin to cry a few hours in. somehow, he knows that you don't need to talk about it, that you can't talk about it.

the drive takes longer than it should, because you've confided in billy that you've never travelled out of your hometown and he's determined to show you every landmark (of his designation) along the way. sometimes these are kitschy tourist stops, like an enormous dinosaur statue or ball of yarn, but more often they're smaller things, like a natural spring or a pretty outcropping of rock or a hike he insists on because you have to see the view. you realize that he is a rambler too, just on a bigger scale than you've been able to be, and something hot flares in your chest. you will wander, with him and apart. with him, it will create moments that are just for the two of you, inimitable by any other people in any other time. apart, you will create stories for each other upon reunion, and in each other there will be something grounding - a home - to put a happily ever after on every fairy tale you get to live.