#little part of our brain dies and screeches

[sweet-self-indulgence]

A request from @seducemefanficsandheadcanons that I managed to finish before winter is over!

Snow Day

Sam and Mika enjoy the snow together. Some gentle feelings begin to warm their hearts despite the cold weather.

Snow Warning. 6-8 inches expected by tomorrow morning. Anticipate poor road conditions and possible closures.

A funny kind of excitement buzzes in Mika’s chest and pulls at the corners of her mouth as she scrolls through notifications on her phone. I haven’t had a snow day in forever!

A logical part of Mika’s brain is glad for the extra day to catch up on her studies after the whole Malix-and-Diana-trying-to-fuck-up-her-life debacle. A whimsical part of her brain is giddy at the prospect of reliving some of her magical childhood snow day memories. A practical corner of her mind realizes that she’ll just end up wrapped in blankets on the couch, watching TV. All of her can agree on one thing, Mika needs a snow day, and she has to make the most of it.

I should flush an ice cube.

Mika cringes at the thought. Even her most childish side recognizes that the old superstition is stupid, but for some reason she finds herself fetching a tall glass of ice-water from the kitchen.

This is for the nostalgia. Mika fails to convince herself, it’s not like I’m a high school senior who believes in magic.

The thought triggers a snort as the reality of her demonic escapades come crashing to the front of her mind. Whatever, if devils can shoot magic guns at my head, I can wish for a snow day.

Mika can’t tell if it’s wishful thinking when she senses a glimmer of energy in the ice cube as it swirls around the toilet bowl. She blinks and the trace is gone.

--

Mika bolts upright in bed at the first screech of her alarm. Her hands instinctually find her phone on her nightstand and silence the noise. She rubs the sleep from one eye with the heel of her hand while she thumbs through notifications with the other.

A notice from the school district makes her pause. Dear students blah blah blah… due to inclement weather….all activities cancelled…

Mika stops reading and squishes her eyes closed in delight, yesss! She flops back in bed gratefully.

By the time Mika opens her eyes again her room is filled with a bright white light beaming in through the windows.

A grin plasters itself onto her face as Mika darts downstairs. “HEY EVERYONE! IT’S A SNOW—���

Her shout dies on her tongue as she takes in a lone figure at the dining room table, “—day…”

“Uh, yeah. There sure is snow.” Sam’s sarcasm is tempered by his confusion.

Mika finds her enthusiasm again, “Yup! So much snow that the day is cancelled!”

Sam looks at the girl like she grew an extra head, “How can a day be cancelled?”

Her eyes roll dramatically, “All the important stuff is cancelled for the day. Work, school…”

Mika looks around again, failing to locate signs of the other four incubi, “Where is everyone?”

“I guess their days weren’t cancelled.” Sam shrugs as he sips at his coffee.

His eyes dart up at the sudden screech of the chair against the floor as Mika collapses into it. If the incubus didn’t have such demonic senses, he wouldn’t have heard Mika mutter into the table, “But I wished for a snow day.”

Something twists uncomfortably in Sam’s chest. Mika asks for so little, if she wished for something it must be really important. He manages to stow his usual cynicism and ask with genuine curiosity, “Once more with clarity, what exactly is a ‘Snow Day.’”

Mika uncrumples from the table slightly, propping her chin up on her hand with a sigh, “When there’s too much snow it can be unsafe to travel so stuff will close for the day.”

At Sam’s blank expression she continues, “It’s like a free day off! You can’t go to work or school, so you have to stay home and enjoy it.” Her tone turns wistful as she continues, “Suzu, Naomi, and I used to spend all day playing in the snow. We’d refuse to come in until we couldn’t feel our fingers!”

“So… you want to go play with your friends today?”

Sam’s earnest question makes Mika blush, suddenly feeling very childish. “No! Well—maybe… I guess I thought it would be something fun for us—all of us!—to do together. You know, another human-world first.”

He looks almost regretful as Sam breaks it to her, “Mika, we’ve all seen snow before.”

Her blush deepens, “I-I know! I just thought—I mean I can’t imagine you would have had time off from your duties in the demon world and- and your jobs here are so new…”

“Well, I do have the day off. I mean—if I’m enough to do a Snow Day.” Sam’s phone buzzes on the table and he smacks it into the next room without even looking at it.

Mika doubles over in laughter, “Don’t break your phone on my account!”

He pushes back in his chair, looking pointedly away as he mumbles, “S’not a big deal or anything.”

“But, of course you’re enough, Sam,” Mika adds with a grin.

Fuck. Her face- and she said- The demon’s emotions suddenly boil over and he finds himself shouting, “Yeah well, I don’t see what’s so special about snow! It’s cold and dirty and fucking inconvenient!”

His hands slam down on the table as he stands up and starts to storm off. He’s stopped by a hand around his wrist.

“Oh no you don’t!”

--

Mika gnaws on her lip as they bundle up in the foyer. She knows she should probably not resort to bullying Sam into doing whatever she wants, but it’s not like I can actually force him! He’s a demon, supernaturally fast…and strong. Mika’s eyes trace Sam’s back.

She waves away the errant thought, but it’s too late her face is bright red as the mental image of removing all Sam’s layers burns itself into her imagination.

“You sure you need all that stuff; you’re looking pretty warm—”

“Haha yeah! Let’s get outside already!” Mika practically shoves Sam through the door.

The pair shuffle their feet nervously in the slushy walkway for one long awkward moment. Mika finally tears here gaze away from her shoes and breathes a quiet, “Oh wow!”

“Hmm?” Sam follows her gaze. The grounds are covered in a thick blanket of snow, pure white, untouched, and glittering in the morning sun. The world is dazzling and quiet as the faintest flurries continue to fall in the bright morning air, each flake stacking ever higher on every tree branch and fence post.

“See?!” Mika points at the scene before then and turns to stare accusatorily at Sam.

“Ok, fine! It looks a hell of a lot nicer when it’s like that and not all gross!” He kicks his feet in the slush to emphasize his point. “Plus, it won’t stay all pretty like that for long.”

Mika groans, “That’s the point! It’s ephemeral!”

“E— frem—?”

“It means I’m gunna ruin it!” A wicked grin splits across Mika’s face and she’s skipping across the lawn, kicking powder high into the air just to watch it fall back down.

A smile threatens to upset Sam’s stubborn scowl as he watches Mika frolic. I like this version of the view better, the thought sends a dozen butterflies fluttering in his chest.

A thwack in the shoulder followed by a small explosion of snow drags Sam back to reality.

“Come on! You have to help me wreck this!” Mika’s tone waivers on serious as she continues more quietly, “I can’t stand all this perfection.”

“Finally, something I’m good at!” Sam stampedes through the snow, kicking away its polished shell. He makes a show of plowing through a deep snow drift, trying to send it flying as far as possible. When he turns back towards Mika, he’s relieved to see the smile back on her face.

The demon grabs a handful of snow in his glove, aiming  for payback, but the loose snow flutters lamely down  from his outstretched arm.

Mika chuckles at the way his eyebrows knit together in confusion and frustration, “You have to pack it together, like this.” She scrunches some snow between her mittens and chucks it at Sam.

He dodges her attack and bends down to gather his own ammunition in one fluid movement.

He’s so…graceful. Mika really should have had plenty of time to dodge the oncoming snowball, seeing as her eyes were glued to Sam’s every movement. Instead, it smacks her right in the face. The heat of her embarrassment melts through the snow instantly.

“Pfftf! Hey!” She wipes at the stuff still stuck in her hair as Sam whoops victoriously.

Mika starts to pack another snowball, but decides against picking a fight she’s sure to lose. Instead, she aims at the low branches of one of the evergreens dotting the perimeter of the mansion. The projectile shakes the branch, sending all the snow sliding off with a satisfying whump.

“Nice!” Mika hears from behind her before a huge snowball collides with the top of the tree. The timber groans as it sways, then ricochets forward as it sheds the rest of its snow with a heavy thud.

Mika and Sam share wide grins. They harass a few more trees before Mika announces, “Let’s build a snowman!”

“Build? I thought this was about destruction?”

“It can be both!” Mika defends.

She packs a dense snowball and drops it on the ground, gently rolling it along an area they have yet to disturb. As she carefully guides the ball’s path, more and more snow clings to it. Sam watches dubiously as she works, “A big ball?”

“Trust the process!” Mika gripes. “Help me make another one.”

Sam rolls his eyes but starts mirroring her process. His first few attempts disintegrate quickly. Mika tries to intervene, “Here, why don’t I—”

“No! I’m going to get this!” Sam’s face is determined as he squats behind his snowball, shuffling awkwardly forward as he concentrates on rolling it gently.

Mika has to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. A surprising fondness warms her heart as she watches Sam

Eventually Sam returns, rolling a ball that almost reaches his hips. “Okay, now what?”

“We need one more…” Mika assesses her first attempt and holds out her hands to approximately the middle size between the two, “Yay big.”

Sam nods curtly and attends to his assignment.

Mika matches his serious attitude and wanders towards the tree line in search of the right sticks.

“It’s done!”, Sam calls.

“Okay, go ahead and stack them by size, biggest on the bottom.” Mika returns with her arms full of sticks. “It looks great!”

“… I don’t… get it.” Sam cocks his head to the side as if that would make the mound of snow seem more like a man.

“That’s because it’s missing the finishing touches” Mika inserts two straight sticks into the middle. “See? Arms. Aaaaand…” She stretches out the word as she affixes branches that jut out from the sides of the smallest ball then turn to point upwards. “Horns!” She exclaims once she’s satisfied with their placement.

“Hey!” Sam sputters, red-faced. “That’s not—I don’t—My horns aren’t that big!”

“I had to make it obvious that it’s a snow demon” Mika grabs her phone from her pocket, furiously snapping pictures of Sam with their creation.

“Oh, that gives me an idea!” Mika suddenly grabs Sam’s hand and pulls him towards the last patch of untouched snow.

Sam’s too busy staring at her pink mittens wrapped around his gray gloves to put up a fight.

She turns her back to the snow patch and spreads her arms wide, encouraging Sam to do the same, “Like this ,and then you gotta fall back okay? 1…2…3!”

They land flat on their backs in the snow. Mika windmills her arms and legs furiously for a few seconds.

“…uhhh”

“Now get up carefully, don’t make any more tracks.”

Too confused to question, Sam does as he’s told.

Mika delicately kneels in the imprint of Sam’s body.

He stares at her smaller form within his outline, some kind of protective instinct curling in his chest.

 She reaches up towards the head and traces his horns into the snow with the tip of her mitten.

“There!” She brushes the snow off her legs as she stands to admire her handiwork, “A snow angel—” she gestures to her imprint, “—and a snow demon.”

The real demon’s stomach does a funny little flip-flop under his ribs at the sight of the snow creatures. A matched set, somehow, despite being from different words.

After a long moment of staring, Mika suddenly shivers violently.

Sam smirks at her, “Yeah, I bet getting your ass covered in snow makes you cold… doofus.”

His words lack their normal bite. When he raps his knuckles against Mika’s forehead, the gentle touch melts her inside. Mika can only gaze up at him with red cheeks.

“C-come on! Let’s get you warmed up!” It’s Sam’s turn to grab her hand as he leads her back towards the front door. I think I’m going to like snow days.

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 29: The Heir

Pairing: Mer Boba Fett x Kiffar Reader

Summary: Boba is sent to your village for a time to keep him safe.

Author’s Note: Best to read Day 28 first or this will make no sense. The reader from that fic s referred to as mom by Boba. Sorry. Also this man kept fighting me for the brain cell. I kept writing a paragraph and then I would get distracted.

Warnings: Using a dead body to bring someone back to life. I think that’s it.

Words Count: 1398

Prompt: Our little village is kind to the sea and beloved in return. I am ten when it gives us its child to raise, and my fate is forever sealed.

Prompt 2918 by deepwaterwritingprompts

Boba feels out of it for lack of a better term. Reality doesn’t quite feel real anymore and, with what has happened in the last 24 hours, it’s not hard to understand why.

His dad died. Right in front of him even though Jango had been warned multiple times how this would be his end. Boba had half considered yelling that at his body when they got him on Slave I.

Next, there was the ritual. To his mom’s credit, she had tried to force him below deck, but he wouldn’t have it. Boba knew he could force her hand this time; the ritual had to happen before a certain stage of decomposure. Slave I had even tried to force him below, but Boba was and always will be stubborn. He would soon wish he had listened.

By the end of the ritual, his father was breathing, but not awake. And his poor mother was no longer herself. Even though she was happy Jango was alive, her reaction to her human body and loss of magic was devastating.

“What have I done?” The wail made his whole body shiver; it was unnatural not to hear a hawk’s screech leave her mouth. “I can feel this body dying. How do humans live like this?”

All Boba could think to do was hold her, wrapping his mother in the tightest hug he could. He was so happy his dad was alive, but to see her suffer for it was its own form of agony.

Once she had calmed, then came figuring out what to do next. It took a soul sometimes years to cross back after being absorbed into magic. His father wouldn’t wake for a long time.

“You have to take him back to Mandalore.” Boba states more than asks and his mom nods.

“The stronger Sea magic there will help him heal faster…” She leaves the ‘I hope’ unsaid for both their sanities. However, they both sit together silently for a long time; neither wanting to admit what has to happen next.

Boba is the heir and his powers won’t appear until his thirteenth birthday. Sith hells, he doesn’t even have access to his Mer form yet. Death Watch will certainly try to kill both him and Jango to seize the power of the Sea Alor for themselves.

Boba doesn’t want to be separated from his parents, but he knows it has to be done. The disdain for his situation lingers as Slave I sympathetically creeks.

“I’m so sorry, Boba.” She whispers and, after everything that has happened, he allows himself to fall apart.

“Don’t apologize.” Boba hiccups. “You’re the only one who has done nothing wrong, mom.”

Your little village is kind to the sea and beloved in return. You are ten when it gives its child to raise, and your fate is forever sealed. He arrives on an empty ship and everyone can tell the sea heir is exhausted. You leave him be for a few days.

Most people here handle him with reverence and distance at first. You become the first to attempt friendship, but he is cold and uninterested. He’s not mean about it though so you keep trying.

You find your first success in just sitting together and reading side-by-side. He studies almost as much as he trains for combat. Most are even too intimidated to interrupt him unless there is a letter from his mother or food is ready. But he’s a good kid for the most part and doesn’t cause trouble around the village.

“It’s Boba.”

“What?” You pause halfway through your book. You turn to look up at him and find for once his eyes aren’t angry. You know he’s not mad at anyone here, but it’s that kind of vengeance that can sometimes burn more than just your enemy.

“You can call me Boba.” He says with an annoyed sigh. Your eyes widen and a giant grin passes along your face.

“So we’re friends now?” Boba snorts in response to your enthusiasm.

“Don’t push it.”

Training together gains you a lot more ground in the friendship department. You are originally from the island Kiffu so you're not starting from scratch like most of the other children. Many days are spent sparring and cackling together on the beach.

Then his thirteenth birthday comes. Most Mer children take a month or so to slowly transition into their Mer form for the first time. However, it makes sense the next Sea Alor would be different. He seems transfixed and just walks out into the water until he vanishes beneath the waves.

You grow worried when it takes him a while to surface. “Boba?”

You watch him suddenly jump out of the water. His fin looks like pure jade and you can’t help but stare in complete awe. Boba practically glows with pride as he tries out his new abilities. However, a deep sadness etches itself in your stomach; soon he will be gone.

That night he wishes everyone in the village goodbye. It is also the first time he has ever hugged you. You freeze up before immediately squeezing him back; your composure completely falls apart as you cling to him.

“I will see you again. I promise.” Boba says gently as he pulls away. You want so badly to ask him to stay, but after being separated from his parents for so long, you’re not about to be selfish like that.

“So stop crying. Okay, little one?” You instantly glare at that stupid nickname.

“Don’t choke on your ego, Boba.” You can see his shoulders shake with laughter as he walks onto Slave I. As he sails away, you finally notice that the last exchange has stopped your tears.

You would not meet Boba again for many years. You would hear things on your travels as a bounty hunter, but that was it. How the Sea Alor was back in power and the empire didn’t have the might to face the combined power of the natural Mer and the now regular aging Mer clones. While there was currently no outright war, it was only a matter of time before the Emperor got greedy.

Stories circulated specifically about Boba as well. His powers only continued to grow. In fact, in between helping sabotage the empire, he was competing with Cad Bane for the spot as the top bounty hunter.

“Show off.” You mutter to yourself even though you hope he wins. Cad bane is an asshole in general; after working with him once you vowed you would never do that again.

You take another shot and enjoy the burn as it goes down. You are currently in between jobs and taking a night to relax. Even a little tipsy, you feel a pair of eyes on your back that had been there too long. You had waited a while for them to get bored, but now you finally turn to face them.

“Boba?” Dark green enchanted armor shines in the low light of the bar. He gives you a sly smile as he slowly makes his way through the room. He braces his hands on the counter as his eyes scan over you. The silence makes you want to squirm and you barely contain it.

“You’re a hard person to find.” He leans in close. “Little one.” This time you squirm and Boba smirks in response.

“I’m not so little anymore, Fett.” You say, trying to hold onto your pride. He sits down in the seat beside you and arches an eyebrow as he waves the bartender over. Boba points to your drink and you nod before he orders you another.

“I disagree.” Boba teases and you glare at him. When the drinks are brought over, you toast to one another before he gets to the meat of the situation.

“I could use a partner for the bounties ahead.” He states, reaching up to touch your face. You lean into it as you smile back.

“My pleasure. Try and keep up, your highness.” You whisper, leaning in closer. To your surprise, Boba wraps his arms around you. You relax into his touch and return the hug. “One day I’ll get you to say something nice to me.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, little one.” Even as he teases you, you enjoy the affection and love that he can’t quite tell you verbally.

[lilistayskz]

Hi, I am just updating to say that I rewrote this whole part of What It Is To Burn Chapter 22 (the 'Changlix kiss' convo) if you are interested in reading :)

Taking Karina and Winter home later actually gives me the perfect excuse to leave with Yongbok instead of finding a bed in this house that is not occupied by at least one other kid. My drunk little baby keeps some part of his body in contact with mine the entire time we’re hanging out, to my amusement - he has to be physically peeled off of me by Chan to help carry all the party furniture back into the barn.

There’s something I’ve been dying to know since Bokkie let it slip our first night together, and now that he is out in the pasture - probably being grilled privately by Bang Chan - I have the perfect opportunity to ask the boy involved about my angel kissing him.

“Kissing me?” Changbin laughs incredulously. We’re in the living room with Jisung and Minho, seated around the last of our weed in a plastic bag. “Noona, he basically strangled me! I mean that, like, literally. He had been a fucking terror all night, and when the bottle landed on me…” He blinks his eyes like he’s trying to clear an image from his brain. Shaking his head, he takes a long drag of a menthol cigarette. “I think he unlocked some kind of kink, and I’m not even gay, dude…”

“He made it sound so innocent!” I bang my fist on Jisung’s knee as I keel over, giggling. Of course my baby is some sort of demon in disguise - based on the way he tried to rip my shorts off the moment he had me underneath him, I knew he wasn’t as angelic as I’d once believed. “What did he do? Tell me everything!”

“Well… I mean, after he tried to choke me out, he dragged me into the chaebol girl’s bedroom and held me hostage!” My brother and I fall to dramatic pieces on top of each other on the living room couch, each clutching the other’s shoulders and staring at Bin like he’s telling a thrilling ghost story. “Yeah, I know! We almost died that night like four times, Noona, I'm telling you -"

“Wasn’t that Giselle’s New Year’s Eve party? Where was I when this was happening?” Jisung asks, and I slap a hand over his mouth. That’s a great question, but it’s not important right now.

“Nobody cares!” This fucking brat bites my finger so I release him with a smack to his thigh. He screeches like a pterodactyl and 'accidentally' falls over into Minho’s lap. I roll my eyes, gesturing to Changbin. “Well, how was it? The kiss??”

“Okay, well,” Bin continues, unfazed by the chaos around him. “It's like I said. The bottle landed on me, and he started to kiss me, like…”

He mimics Yongbok's hands at his own throat, fingers clawed wickedly. We three nod our heads, indicating our enthusiastic understanding.

“I think he was mad at me,” Changbin says with a derisive chuckle. "Lix was covered in glitter. I very clearly remember that, because I'm still finding that shit all over my truck. Anyway, it's like the kiss set off his cuckoo clock. Made me do all kind of crazy shit that night."

“He made you?” Minho teases, his words seemingly the funniest thing my brother's ever heard - he laughs as if he'll die. “Lee Felix weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“Bro, he can be very persuasive,” Changbin insists, “and he is a lot stronger than you’d think.”

I remember back to Yongbok holding me down on his bed, solid muscle and pressure and passion; he had me braindead the moment my defenses fell. I know that kiss that Changbin described very well.

“Thank you so much for sharing your harrowing tale, Seo Changbin,” I announce with a golf clap. Jisung perks up, straightening an invisible tie at my side. We are suddenly very high TV reporters, a game we haven’t played in years, but we step back into our roles effortlessly. I love my (stupid, annoying, crybaby, spoiled) little brother.

"Well, I haven't actually told the story yet -"

“Yes, very brave, Mr. Seo,” Jisung picks up from beside me, his finger in an imaginary earpiece. “Oh, this just in, sources say our guest is a… am I hearing this right? Yes, a weak bitch.”

“How did it feel to be tonguefucked by an angel?” I interrupt, holding my Coke bottle as a microphone in Changbin’s face.

He clears his throat. “It was weird,” he states into my bottle.

“The people want to know: Are you considering pursuing a homosexual lifestyle?” Minho chimes in, the TV remote pointed in Changbin’s face like his own mic once he catches on to our game. No wonder he fits so well with Jisungie - it’s like he was meant to be here this whole time.

“No, dude. I go on record here, today: I'm not gay.” Changbin raises his hands and sits back in his chair. “Please, no further questions.”

Lame. We feign extreme seriousness and abandon playtime to lean back in our respective seats. I'm rolling the last joint at the last party of my high school life - the next time I can do this with my friends, will they think I'm 'too old' for them? Will they still want their Noona hanging around? I'm starting to make myself sad again - where the hell is Yongbok? By the time I'm twisting the end of last joint, Hyunjin and Seungmin have joined us. They carried Karina and Jeongin, both still unconscious and snoring, to a pallet in the corner. Winter wanders in silently, quickly seating herself on the floor between her cousin's legs. I wonder if she's feeling okay.

Changbin pats his hand on Winter's hair, but cocks his head toward me. “To be honest, Noona… I’m surprised you’re not pissed at me right now.”

I look up from the supplies I’m putting away and give him a perplexed look. “Me? Why?” I can’t remember ever having been mad at this kid in my life. He and Chan are probably the best friends I could ever have hoped for for my dumbass brothers.

He and Hyunjin share a look and my eyes widen, but just as he's about to speak, the back door opens and Chan trudges in, muddy from the field. He’s toting bags upon bags of snacks we’d forgotten outside. A chorus of ‘yay’ springs up from those of us sitting down.

Seungmin hustles to hold the door for Yongbok, who is carrying two cases of beer, his eyes just visible above the boxes. “You need help with that?” Seungmin asks as he takes the top case, shutting the door behind everyone.

“Where did you even get beer?” I ask, clearing a spot on the coffee table for everything. “None of you are old enough to buy it -”

“Mind your own business, old lady," Hyunjin says, throwing a bag of M&Ms at my face. “We don’t need you for everything.” Jisung cackles from the end of the couch.

“My heart!” I cry dramatically, clutching the candy to my chest. “Why do you speak to me like that, Hyunjinnie? I am your Noona! ”

“My Noona!” Yongbok swoons, dropping the other beer case on Seungmin’s foot to rush to my side, holding my torso in his arms like Romeo held Juliet. “O true apothecary, thy drugs are quick -”

Everyone ignores the Shakespearean spectacle and settles around the living room. Jisung pops the final joint of the final party of my high school years in my dying mouth and its power revives me. I make him light it up and inhale.

“We’re almost out of weed,” Jisung whines, and I nod, holding the smoke in my lungs as I try to pass the magic joint to Bokkie. He takes the blunt and immediately hands it to Changbin on his right.

“That’s okay, Noona can just shotgun me. I’m still pretty high.”

I almost choke out all of the smoke I’m holding. Is he crazy? In front of literally everyone? My face must be beet red, because he grins as he moves his mouth just centimeters from mine; a clear challenge.

The boys are staring at us with amusement, Chan munching on popcorn like he’s at the movies. Minho playfully covers Jisung’s eyes as he groans. Hyunjin gives Changbin that fucking look again. Fuck it.

I open my lips and press them to my angel’s mouth - he breathes in deeply as I exhale. I can feel the familiar curves of his smile as our lips seal together perfectly, like we've practiced this, like we're meant to be this way. My face flushes impossibly hotter until I pull back; he blows the smoke out and wipes his mouth with a besotted sigh. “Thank you, Noona.”

My big, innocent eyes catch Changbin’s and he lifts his eyebrow, bemused. "I mean, that's why,” he says pointedly as he passes the joint to Chan, and I realize that he can see right through this charade.

All of them can.

[annoying-probably]

If it wasn't obvious, I really like the sibling dynamic of Tsukasa, Saki and Touya.

I mean, everything lines up! Their birthdays have 8 days apart (Saki-May9th, Tsu-May17, Touya-May 25), which I can only imagine is hell for buying presents for for anyone who knows all of them.

Have you seen what their wikis say about each other?? Touya is still just as concerned for Saki, even if he can't help as much and Tsukasa literally changed the course of his life!

Plus, Touya being added in would make Saki the middle child. That's. something-

But I really like hc'ing them all being way closer, with more events of them hanging out like in Touya's initial 3* or the Hina event!

Imagine Touya peacefully going about his day and then getting a bunch of super cheerful messages from Saki asking him if he wanted to come to the arcade with her and her friends since she knows he loves the arcade, she loves her friends interacting and she gets more plushies! Win-Win-Win. I can only imagine them all walking there, Saki somehow getting Touya to talk about all his ambitions and being happy to talk about music and things aswell and why he performs. Touya might be a little more closed off to talking sometimes, but somehow Saki knows what to say for him!

I feel like Saki would try and act a lot like Tsukasa in being the loud older sibling type around Touya to make them all laugh, though I guess it would go with Tsukasa joking that she's doing it wrong and doing exactly what Saki did but louder and with more posing while Touya just quietly laughs to himself.

OH! Imagine them having family game nights but everyone gets to invite someone else. obviously they all have their own best friends they're all gonna drag along( feel free to put quotes around that """"best friends"""" I know we are). Like a game of Monopoly. With. Tenma Tsukasa, Tenma Saki, Tenma Aoyagi Touya, Kamishiro Rui, Hoshino Ichika and Shinonome Akito. It would be utter hell. Games of truth or dare somehow become games to the death and blackmail.

Tsukasa and Rui are the oldest and are meant to be the most responsible but Rui is antisocial and tries to distract himself tinkering with robots the first hour or two before joining in, maybe having to help cook before being kicked out for cooking crimes against humanity. Ichika is trying her best!!! This is Saki's friends and family!! She has to make a good impression!!!!! So Ichika is really trying her best to get along but she just ends up getting concerned for everyone else. (Bonus points if in this timeline all the leaders know about the fact other leaders have sekais and they just keep awkwardly staring at each other.) Akito... Akito did not want to be there. He was bribed to be there. He wants to be there less by the hour, but Touya's having fun, so he settles down a bit. They get bullied for being clingy best- sorry, """"best friends"""", to which Akito yells at them for. I like to think even as /p or /r they're just naturally very close but I do have biases!!(bonus points if the best friends are all in fact dating their bestie and Akito and Rui just get to . stare at each other whenever Touya and Tsukasa talk in the 'what do we do now.' way)

.

karaoke nights. I don't need to say anything more. (Expect for that fact Tsukasa would go between singing seriously like Fixer style and like. Cosmospice. To make everyone laugh :) )

Touya never truly feels he really fits in with the two siblings due to them literally being rays of sunshine, but no matter what, he'll always feel safe, and at home. They've taught him so much from how to be his own person to how to make desserts cooking to how to survive. He could never do enough to thank them, but he thinks just trying to repay them over time is enough.

[puppypeter]

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

OR

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

[loveanoutcast]

ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-

Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀

only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader

Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D

Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-

"Assumptions."

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader

TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old

Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane

It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.

That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"

Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.

He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.

You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.

The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.

"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"

You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.

"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."

Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.

"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"

You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.

"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.

All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.

"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?

Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.

"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."

"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."

You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.

You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.

"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.

"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.

Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.

"Help! Someone call a doctor!"

The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.

"Sir, let me see."

"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"

"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.

"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."

"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.

"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.

"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.

"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.

You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.

"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."

Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.

"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."

"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.

"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."

"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.

"Don't mention it."

"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.

The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.

"Are you a nurse or something?"

"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."

The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."

"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"

Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.

"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"

"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.

You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."

However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."

Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.

When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.

The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.

"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."

"Where's the guy?"

"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."

Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,

"What happened to your face?"

The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."

"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.

He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."

He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.

You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.

"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."

Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"

You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.

"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"

"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."

It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.

"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."

Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.

You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.

His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.

"Who's got you turning red brat?"

"Uh-it's nothing, captain."

He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.

"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."

"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.

"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.

You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."

"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."

"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.

"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"

"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."

Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.

Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.

It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.

Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.

You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.

It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.

Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.

It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.

"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.

"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.

He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.

"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.

As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.

"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.

"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."

"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."

You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,

"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."

Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,

"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."

"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.

"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."

You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."

Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.

"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"

When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.

"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."

"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.

"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."

"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.

"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."

You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.

"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."

"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.

"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."

"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."

You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.

"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."

"So he's charming?"

You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.

Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.

"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,

"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.

"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.

"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."

You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

"So why haven't you told him?"

You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."

You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.

"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.

"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"

Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."

You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.

"What?"

"You're so fucking dense, Eren."

"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."

You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."

"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"

"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.

"Shallow." He spit out.

"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.

"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,

"We what, Eren?"

"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.

"Eren...come here."

"No, I should g-"

"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.

"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."

It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,

"Do you maybe feel the same way?"

You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.

When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."

The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.

"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.

The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."

He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.

The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.

A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-

"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."

His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.

"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.

Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.

"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."

Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.

One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.

You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.

You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.

"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."

His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.

"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.

"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.

He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.

"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.

Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.

"Please what baby?"

"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.

You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.

"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."

He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.

"With me."

You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.

Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.

"Hmm, right there princess?"

You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.

"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."

"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"

Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.

"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."

"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.

"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.

The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.

Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.

"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"

"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."

Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.

The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.

His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.

"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.

"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.

"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.

You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,

"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.

Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.

His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.

"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.

You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.

He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.

You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"

"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.

You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.

"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"

They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.

"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.

"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."

You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.

"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."

"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.

The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.

"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.

You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.

"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"

"Sure what do you need?"

"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"

The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What?"

"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.

You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.

Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Lost in the Façade

Double post tonight and back on track.

Warnings: Death ; Suicidal attempt and ideation ; Unrequited[?] Love

Words: 3.8k

Getting caught up in the affairs of the gods wasn’t something you were ever hoping to do.

You remember being absolutely terrified when you saw the wooden pillar and a familiar blond sitting at the top. Remember cursing Tubbo once more at the exile of his best friend. Remembered how much you had thought it would be a mistake. Remembered trying your hardest to not make this possibility a reality.

It hadn't been easy to sneak around Dream's back to visit your little brother. It hadn't been any easier to convince Tommy to let you do so either. He was still upset at you, but you could never be mad at him for it. He was right. Siblings don't keep things from each other.

That's why, after knowing what Dream would do to him, it hurt more that he wouldn't tell you.

Dream was standing a bit to the side, laughing, despite the forlorn look on Tommy's face. The urge to kill him again flared in your stomach and you pushed it down. Tommy needed you more than you needed the green man's death.

You nearly flew to the two, hardly feeling your feet touch the ground when your heart was beating as hard as it was.

"Tommy? Tommy, what are you doing up there?" You barely heard his sigh, but he shrugged in response and you spun on Dream. The cool night air bit your cheeks, but your blood was colder. "What is he doing? Why are you just laughing?"

Dream crossed his arms in front of himself. "Oh please, [y/n]. You don't actually think he's gonna jump, do you? He's on one life left. He wouldn't."

You didn't hold the same optimism Dream did. You turned back to your brother, sitting atop the tower before you.

"Tommy? Tommy, please come down. You're scaring me!"

"What's the point, [y/n]?"

"The point is you need to be safe. It’s going to be okay, Tommy. I promise, just come down and-”

“You’re right, it is going to be okay.” He had always wondered what it was like to have wings. He remembered some things of previous lives when he had them, but he never remembered flying. Was this how it felt? The breeze brushing it’s icy fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to fall. Was this how you felt every time you were about to die?

“Tommy!” He looked back down at you, scooting closer to the edge. You looked so small. He felt smaller. It was so hard to focus with all of the thoughts drifting through his mind. No one had come to his party, his interaction with Drista was… lackluster at best. No one cared. He wasn’t in a position of power anymore, who could blame them. You, Ghostbur, and Dream probably only cared out of obligation. He could feel the mist from the sea on his face.

“Tommy, all of us," you shot a glare at Dream, but the man stood there, unphased, "most of us love you, Tommy. We'd be heartbroken if you were gone."

"Then why has no one else visited?" Your heart felt heavy in your chest and your words died on your lips. You didn’t have an answer for the blond. You could only look up at him with eyes that slowly became more glassy the longer he sat up there.

There were flashes in his mind. Ones of him finding Tubbo in another life. The time when he was a vigilante and they had lived together, the other continuously throwing him out of windows. The one where they had become fast friends during an apocalypse. The life where they had raced together and he had fallen down a cliff side.

Tubbo wasn't here for him this time.

The feeling of the breeze brushing through his hair made his back ache, longing for the lives where he had wings. He wondered if dying this time would be like when he and Wilbur were princes. He had awoken in an orchard that was so bright, so warm, he almost longed for the battlefield again. He couldn't remember the name of it now. Blue something? He remembered the morning glories that decorated it and the apple trees that littered the orchard he had awoken in. He remembered how sweet the fruits had been. Like gapples, but with the faint taste of honey. A small part of him hoped he would return there and wait for Phil once more until the next lifetime.

Another gust of wind blew past him and Tommy was shaken from his thoughts, only to hear the two conflicting voices below him.

"I know you just want attention, give it up, Tommy. This is why you don’t scheme."

"Tommy, please come down. It's not worth it. Do not listen to Dream!"

"C'mon, just jump. I know you won't."

"You're worth more than just jumping, Tommy."

"You wanted me here, Tommy. I'm your only friend now."

"You are not his friend, Dream. You're manipulating him."

"I am just telling him what he needs to hear."

Tommy's breath hitched when you shoved the masked man before you. You didn't pvp. What were you doing?

"You are trying to use him. He is not a pawn you can just play with, Dream!"

"Oh, as if you are any better." Tommy watched Dream shove you back. "None of us know who you are, [y/n]. How do we know you're not just a pawn being used yourself against all of us? How do we know you're our friend? We all remember each other. You're a new player in a game where you don't belong."

He stood above you now, porcelain mask lifeless as he started to summon his own sword. "Let's see how many lives you actually have."

Tommy noted how scared you looked, staring back at Dream, but was shocked when you just looked up at him. "Tommy, please. You need to get down. And you need to run."

Dream's sword was in hand. "Tommy, you need to find somewhere safe. Anywhere safe. Please."

An uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his chest at your words. Like you knew what would happen next. Like you knew better and were telling him the future. How could you know when you wouldn’t tell him anything?

"Tommy, you need to be safe. It's going to be okay."

The sun rose and when the light hit you, casting you in a golden glow, he believed you.

Even as Dream ran you through with his sword, he believed you. His chest flickered with long gone pain as he watched the metal disappear into your heart.

So he jumped, water bucket ready.

He landed feet away and began running as fast as he could through the underbrush. His brain was just screaming at him to go back for you. But he knew you wouldn't be there. You'd wake up in your bed here in a few seconds like every other time they had watched you die, and Dream would have him again.

He needed to find Technoblade.

When you returned to where Logstedshire once stood, you relaxed when you saw Dream still there and Tommy gone. Water pooled next to the pole and you knew he had listened to you. The man turned back onto you and you glared back. “You’ve made your last mistake, Dream.”

He didn’t pursue you when you turned back to L’Manburg.

Gods didn’t need to hunt for anything more than fun or revenge.

"He's done it again, Phil!" You nearly screeched through clenched teeth as you slammed the heavy door that led into the angel of death’s house. The immortal barely spared you a glance and continued writing in a small leather bound journal on his desk. Each stroke of the small quill made another perfectly crafted letter, absorbing his interest.

"Take a seat, mate." Phil's voice was bewitching and you immediately perched on one of the warm seats near the fire, sucking in a quivering breath. You took a moment to glance around the familiar home to maybe calm yourself, your sudden need of keeping your composure an agonizing task.

Phil was there when you had awoken on the floor of his home after speaking with Kristin, brimming with knowledge you shouldn’t have known. The man had been alive the longest. Not quite dying, always just flitting between lifetimes on the black wings of his. He had confirmed everything when you had spoken to him about your new memories, comforting you in that special way only a dad could.

Now, as you sat in the comfortable armchair, you could see evidence of every timeline he had lived through and could pinpoint each one. A green plastic bottle, a pair of fuzzy dice, a painting of an unknown woman. She didn’t look like Kristin. There were large wooden bookcases that climbed up the walls filled with great quantities of journals. How many stories did he have to tell? The fire glowing in the hearth set off a gentle glow accompanied by a warmth that made the home all the more pleasing to be in. A small carved board held a thin, dipped stick that burned on the end, causing a delightful scent of vanilla to waft around the room. You sunk into the soft piece of furniture, forcing yourself to relax just a little.

Phil watched you from the corner of his eye. He had seen you stalk across the snowy field and to his front door. You didn’t look happy, but he didn’t expect you to be. There was plenty happening on the server at all times between the same members that were at the heart of it time and time again.

He finished his thought, setting the quill aside and recapping his ink. He’d have to go collect more soon, he was running low. Leaving the page to dry, he walked to the kitchen. His wings rustled gently as they brushed past various objects. You watched him, crossing your arms. “Phil?”

“Yes, mate?” His voice was warm and just as sweet as the vanilla in the air. Fatherly.

“Does it…” You pressed your lips together, trying to properly word the sentence. “Does me being around bother you?”

Phil’s hands paused as he went to feed the furnace to warm a kettle of water. “Why would you ask something like that?”

You shrugged, leaning further into the chair. You weren’t sure if you were trying to hide from your own thoughts or if you were trying to hide from him. “Dream just-”

“Now why would you listen to him? Do you honestly care what he thinks?” You wet your lips, thinking about it.

“Kinda? I care what everyone here thinks.” There was a soft shifting as you heard Phil lean back against the counter. “Some more than others. But I do care.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Keeps you in check from doing somethin’ really wrong.” You hummed in response. “What did he say?”

“He said I don’t belong here.” You heard a scoff.

“Well, we both know that that’s not true.” You thought of Tommy up on the final remains of the territory he had been so proud of. Had he actually gotten away? You thought of Techno, now exiled in the tundra far away from where you sat now. What would he think of your choices? You thought of Wilbur -now Ghostbur- and how, despite you yelling at him being the last thing he heard, he still somehow seemed to love you. Why did he still try so hard when all you seemed to do was help with the aftermath?

A hot mug was pressed into your hands and you looked up at the only one who knew your secret.

“It’s chamomile tea. It’ll help.” You nodded at him, sipping carefully at the beverage. “Tell me everything that happened.”

So you recounted everything that had happened that night until your entrance bright and early in the blond man’s house, including your threat.

“DreamXD’s probably not going to like that you threatened Dream.”

You could only shrug.

“What does it matter? It’s not like killing me will do anything.”

“He’s a god, [y/n]. They have their ways.” You sighed. They were definitely fickle folk. Kristin had been kind enough when you saw her, despite the near-constant migraine you were trying to slowly adapt to, and your few meetings with Drista hadn’t been horrible. But you had never crossed paths with the powerful creation god. If he were anything like Dream himself, you would hate what your first encounter would be like.

“When Drista killed me, it was the same as usual, so I’m not worried. I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs of Tommy’s spiral.”

“When she killed you?” You nodded once more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you didn’t supply him with any more answers.

You didn’t fear other gods after your experiences with the first two you had already been bad. They were not bad enough to deter you.

You had first met Drista when she and Tommy were finishing building the Intimidation Tower. It was an ugly thing, made out of cobblestone, and you knew that Wilbur hated that it gave away the location of the ravine, but it made Tommy happy. It made Drista happy. So you convinced Wilbur to just let it be. It made it easier for Tommy to come home when he was lost, anyways.

She had come around a lot more after that. Always attached at the hip to Tommy, always displaying godlike power, always causing mischief. She was decently polite to you, despite being younger than Tommy with a snarky attitude. But they were a good pair to watch. She always seemed to have fun with the blond, especially when he messed up. And despite how upset he seemed to be in the moment, he was always cheerful when he told you about the things he had done with her as you attached plasters to his cuts and salve to his bruises.

So why did you find her atop the intimidation tower without him?

You climbed your way up, sitting down next to her. “Hey.”

She turned her head to look at you, the familiar mask hiding her expression. “What do you want?”

“Kinda wanna know what you’re doing up here by yourself. Tommy’s asleep right now.” You watched her pull a leg up onto the ledge and hug it.

“I’m just thinking. It’s different being around you all than my brothers.”

“Brothers?” She only nodded her head. “I know about Dream, who else is your brother?”

There was a slight shake in her hand as she moved her hair back. “You’ve already met him. It’s DreamXD.”

You snickered. “DreamXD is your brother?”

“Well, yeah, why else do you think I have access to creative mode?” You hummed, looking back out at the rest of the world and away from her. You hadn’t really questioned it. You didn’t really question a lot of things about the semantics of this world. None of it ever made sense.

“Then what happened to Dream?”

“Oh, he was made, not born.” You nodded.

There was a beat, then two. It sunk in.

“Excuse me?” You heard a laugh ring from her lips.

“Why do you think we call him “Clay” sometimes? Why he doesn’t have powers? Why he shifts from life to life like the rest of them?” You took silent notice of the way she said “them” and not “you”. “He’s a creation with just as much of a soul as the rest of the players.”

You chewed on the thought. Did that make her a god as well? You didn’t ask.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“How fragile you all are.” Your breath caught as you suddenly felt the air rush around you. You couldn’t even scream before you hit the ground, hard. The pain only lasted a moment before a yelp was heard under you and you scrambled off the bed.

Tommy was looking at you with large eyes and you muttered a small “sorry”.

He didn’t even nod at you, just shifted further back against the wall. You could never chastise someone just looking for comfort. “Y’know, it’s a little inconvenient to have you take up my whole bed while I’m out, Toms.”

“What the hell, [y/n]? I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“What were you doing in my bed? I thought I saw you lay down in your own.” You took in the dark bags under his eyes and his messy hair. He didn’t answer you, just looked away with a type of melancholy you knew you’d never hope to match. “The nightmares again, huh?”

He huffed at you, lips turning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” He shook his head, moving to crawl out. “This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have-”

You moved to block him, sitting on the edge of the shoddily crafted mattress as you grabbed him and pulled him back. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” You pushed him down gently and laid next to him with an arm across his shoulders. He squirmed in your grasp. “Tommy, stop. Talk to me.”

The blond hesitated before rolling onto his side to look at you. He looked so very young in the dim torchlight. Why did he seem to have to grow up so fast in every timeline? You moved your arm to run your fingers through his hair and he relaxed under the touch.

“Are we doing the right thing? It feels like we’re on some continuous loop and I can’t even tell if I’m just doing this because we’re the good guys or because I’m the little brother and I have to listen.” You hummed, scratching his scalp gently. “I always feel left out of the loop. And whenever I’m let in, I never have a choice on whatever it is. For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something, yeah? Why does everyone keep treating me as if I were a child? And when they aren’t treating me like one, they’re acting like I have all the answers.”

You watched his lips tremble and he scoot closer to press his face to your chest and you held him there. “Why can’t they make up their minds? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t-” His words broke as he held onto your shirt, pressing his face closer into you. “I don’t-”

You slid your other arm under his head, holding him to you tightly. If you could save him from his own fate, you would have. You two may have not been bound by blood, but he was just as much your brother as he was Wilbur and Techno’s. You would die for him. You would kill for him. You’d do just about anything he asked. You’d protect him from anything.

The gods would have to wipe your existence from everything to get to the ones you loved.

Dream stood next to his brother, floating silently with identical masks. You weren’t afraid of them, but your lip trembled despite your resolve. DreamXD cocked his head at you, as if he himself hadn’t been the one to leave you next to that river and wasn’t aware of your existence. You grit your teeth silently.

“XD.” You greeted. The god’s head corrected before he reached up to remove his mask. An “x” scar crossed his face where his eyes should have been and he grinned at you. He recovered his face once more before blipping out of sight. There would be no fight from him today, but that was a warning.

“Well then, [Y/n], tell me. What do you think would happen to you if they knew your secret? Wouldn’t it make you happy to be able to indulge in the privilege we all seem to have?” You paused, a second turning to a minute, and your heart started to sound like it was beating out of your chest. You considered the possibilities. “Well?”

Dream cursed, his brother now gone. He’d have to do this himself. He too removed his mask and you steeled yourself, crossing your arms. You stared at Dream’s face, bare from the smiling mask that everyone was so accustomed to, displaying the sneer he held special for you. Your back was straight. You were firm. Your gaze unwavering and directing back as much of a threat as his. "I can't understand why you don't like me. You basically built this land from the ground up, and you turn out to be like this?"

His lip curled and your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment before you were back to glaring into his eyes. "You better watch your tongue around me. You can’t fool me with your little “no past lives” act. And you can’t make everyone like you. I know I don’t."

"You're the first who doesn’t, then. And just because you don’t believe that I have no other lives doesn’t mean you can go blabbing to the whole server either.”

“What makes me happy doesn’t matter. If others like me for who I am now, I’m fine.” This turned his curled lip into a full sneer, and you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore.

“See? This is why I don’t like you!” He grabbed your shoulders, and it took every ounce of your willpower to not yank yourself away. “You try to make everyone else happy and leave yourself in the dust! You can’t just do that.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat when you looked back up at him, and your eyes connected once. He wasn’t angry. He was worried. You couldn’t tell if it was for you or for the lost potential, but it was something you had never expected to come from Dream of all people. “Why do you care so much? This doesn’t affect you.”

“Anything concerning my brother affects me.”

“How does this affect XD?” He released you from his grasp.

“Because you are an anomaly and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Then why doesn’t he do something about it? Or Kristin? Or even Drista?” You couldn’t ignore the way he looked away, seemingly ashamed.

“Because they can’t.”

So what did it mean when the gods couldn’t touch you?

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

A fluorescent green gaze pierced through him from the rearview mirror. As much as the eye contact sent chills down Dale's spine, he didn't want to look away. Some primal part of his brain was much more comfortable keeping his eyes firmly planted on the predator in the back seat of the police car.

"Why won't he leave?" Dale whispered to his partner, the woman grit her teeth.

"I don't know, but I'm not the idiot who decided to fucking arrest him." spat Whitney.

"I didn't think it would work!" Dale hissed. They were trying to be quiet, but he was certain the ghost boy could hear them clear as day, especially with the quiet of the late night streets. "I was just following protocol. We're not supposed to ignore criminal activity."

"The protocol," Whitney's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as she circled the block for the third time. "Is to not fuck with the ghosts Dale. Especially that one."

She jerked her head roughly to the boy in the back seat, he was looking around the car and humming to himself, he didn't appear to be paying attention, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening.

"Look I just... we need to at least keep up appearances. We can't just let people think we aren't even trying."

"Yes! Yes we can!" Whitney snapped her mouth shut as her volume started to rise with frustration, she glanced nervously into the mirror and took a deep breath before continuing in a low tone. "We aren't paid to deal with this kind of bullshit, we radio it in and let a Fenton or a Guy in White deal with it."

"Okay I get it!" Dale ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I just... I feel so pathetic doing nothing when ghosts are just running around destroying public property-"

"Oh yeah no that's fine Dale that's a great reason to go and put handcuffs on the most powerful ghost in the fucking city." Whitney took the next turn a little too sharply, Dale felt himself lurch sideways, but the boy in the back hardly moved. It wasn't especially surprising given his usual disregard for the laws of physics.

As well as all the other laws that Officer Dale was supposed to be enforcing.

"I told you I didn't think he would actually come willingly." Dale whispered harshly, his voice containing just the barest hint of hysteria. "I just wanted to show him that we aren't total pushovers, I didn't expect it to go this far."

They circled the block once more as Dale checked the rearview mirror again. Phantom was playing with his handcuffs, jiggling the chain and twisting his hands around them. It was almost like he was trying wriggle his way out of them, Dale knew perfectly well that they were just ordinary handcuffs, and he could phase through them at any moment. Phantom had to know that too.

Whitney flicked her eyes between the mirror and the road.

"Asshole," the word was barely audible, Dale would have missed it had he not seen her lips move. "He's just doing this to fuck with us."

"Of course he is." Dale rubbed at his face tiredly. "He's probably got nothing better to do, maybe he'll leave if another ghost shows up?"

"And exactly how long do you expect us to go around in circles waiting for that to happen?" Whitney asked through gritted teeth. "This is getting fucking embarrassing."

"Maybe we should just take him in," Dale sighed in defeat. Whitney took another corner way too hard, jostling him roughly in his seat.

"I am NOT taking Phantom back for processing. They will NEVER let us live this down, and I am NOT becoming the joke of the precinct because YOU decided to be a god damn moron and arrest a fucking ghost."

Another sharp turn and the entrance to the city park flew by their windows again, Dale had lost count how many times they'd circled the block, but somehow he was certain that Phantom hadn't.

The little shit was enjoying this, why couldn't he just sneak into a movie theatre to get his kicks like a normal teenager?

Whitney growled and pulled the car into a complete stop, the wheels screeched and Dale let out a loud WHUFF as the inertia jerked him hard against his seatbelt.

His partner violently wrenched the door open and pulled herself out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her with far more force than was necessary.

Dale followed suit and looked over the roof of the car as Whitney pulled open the back passenger door and whistled sharply, pointing up and out into the sky.

"Go on, get. Ride's over, you've had your fun."

"Awww come oooon," Phantom whined, "I didn't even get to hear you use the siren!"

"Don't care, we're the police, not baby sitters. Go find some ghost cops to bother."

"The ghost cops aren't as fun," Phantom moaned, but he did as he was told and stepped out of the car. "You know, you guys shouldn't swear so much around minors, you're corrupting the youth!"

"I'll corrupt my foot up your ass if you don't get going." said Whitney, flatly. She put her hand out and Phantom effortlessly dropped the cuffs from his wrists and tossed them at her.

He pulled a face at her as she fumbled with the handcuffs, sticking out a very green tongue.

"I saw that young man!" Dale pointed at him from the other side of the car. "Don't let us catch you disrespecting an officer of the law again! Next time you won't get off with just a warning-"

"Dale! For the love of all that is holy shut your damn fool mouth!"

Phantom hopped backwards from the irate woman, his last few steps landing on empty air. He floated gently upwards with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Well this has been fun but I gotta head off, but thanks for the company! We should do it again some time, see you around!" He waved a casual salute and swung around, legs stretching out into a long swirling tail as he sped off into the sky.

Dale felt his knees shaking as he slipped back into the car. Whitney settled into her seat, hands steady as a rock as she belted herself up and started the car.

"That was terrifying." He gasped.

"And yet you still had to keep playing bad cop."

"I'm sorry it just slipped out! He's no different to any of the other punks we deal with around here. A wiseass with no respect for authority." Dale huffed and folded his arms, crossly.

"...He probably wasn't any different, before he died." Whitney said, quietly.

Dale didn't respond, letting the statement sit heavily between them as the car pulled away from the curb.

"I forget that sometimes, you know." said Dale. "This is the first time I've ever seen him up close and he... he really does just look like some kid. How do you think he... how do you think it happened?"

Whitney let out a deep breath as they completed their final lap around the block and headed in toward the city centre.

"I have no idea, and I'm pretty sure that's the kinda thing you can't ask." she paused for a moment, before continuing with a quiet pain in her voice. "He's so young."

"I wonder if his parents know," Dale mused sombrely, "That he's, you know, still around?"

"Who knows."

A car cut them off suddenly at an intersection.

"That was a red light." Dale announced.

The police car's lights flashed as the siren echoed through the empty streets, and Whitney slammed her foot down to catch up with the offending vehicle.

The conversation was over, but neither cop forgot about the incident, and neither could look at their city's hero and menace quite the same. Dale had gotten quite good at seeing ghosts as merely 'creatures', or 'monsters', things that were entirely Strange and Other. Being up close and personal with one had been a much needed reminder of what a ghost truly was.

And that ghost, the one messing around in the back of his car, was a boy. Just a boy. A boy who had a family, a boy who had a life, a boy who had died.

When Dale got home in the early hours of the morning, he hovered by his kids' bedroom, carefully easing the door open to look at their little sleeping faces. Just to make sure they were still there, right where he left them. Still breathing, still alive.

He knew there was a family out there somewhere, parents who had looked through their son's bedroom door and seen only cold, empty sheets.

Dale stepped very carefully over the spilt lego pieces on the floor, and gave his girls both a long, heartfelt kiss on their little heads, before going back to his own room to lay by his sleeping wife's side.

No, no he truly couldn't look at Phantom quite the same way, not anymore.

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Braaaaaaains...

Jason Todd is legally – and biologically – dead. His family noted his lack of pulse at three in the morning, inside the cave, his body laid out on a table with medical instruments.

No, really, tell him something he doesn't know.

What else crawls out of a grave moaning and groaning?

Or, Jason thought his family full of the world's greatest detectives was smarter than this. Apparently not.

****************************************************************

It had been an ordinary night. Calm. The stage for very little costumed crime and barely more regular, non-insane crime as well. Half the menagerie that made up Dick's loving ragtag bunch of younger siblings had even taken the night off.

Nothing should have make him arrive to silence this thick, to this faint echo of sniffling.

He sprinted after the noise.

Damian's fine, left before me. Duke didn't go out, nor did Steph. Babs spent the evening with Cass in the cave, Tim swept the bowery and said he was going to stop by Jason's place to-

He collided with a shaking, tear stained Tim right outside the medbay.

There was a body on the closest table. Others around it, crying, pacing, muttering in denial.

Dick couldn't look.

No, no, please, please no. I can't do that again. I can't!

Scarred skin, too pale – to be Duke or Cass – by death. His breath hitched. No. He. Fuck.

He knew those scars. Those arms. That chest and that fucking Y from navel to shoulders.

“Dick! Jason... he was...  I found him in his apartment. And I brought him to the cave... but... Jason doesn't have a pulse. He's... cold...”

Dick stumbled.

No.

No, no, no, that... that couldn't be real.

He caught himself on his little brother. Brought himself into a hug too tight, as painful as the arms gripping his ribs and back. A grip meant for a lifesaving light at sea. For a safeline over a ravine.

Twice. He'd lost the same brother twice. And this time, he didn't even have the excuse of inexperience and unstable situations. He... he patrolled the city whilst his brother was dead, completely oblivious to the fact. How could he? How dare he not know?!

“Shh, Tim, I'm here. I'm here.” But not for Jason, whispered a vicious part of him.

“What's all this?”

Dick's heart just about stopped.

Damian stood at the entrance to the lockers' room, uniform folded under one arm, hair slightly damp from a shower and Bat-themed pajamas worn without shame. His mild annoyance was proof he had no idea of the drama that had happened not twenty feet from him.

With reluctance, he let go of Tim, a gentle hand lingering on his shoulder, before he took a few steps toward his youngest, most vulnerable brother.

“D-Dami, I... ”   Damn it, he had to be the one to tell Damian about this. Because otherwise, the person to break the news would be Bruce, and-

Shit.

Bruce.

Oh God. How could they possibly tell him- ? After all their fights, the goddamned shattering that had broken the man he had been, and their last conversations even being more admonishment about protocols that Jason had flippantly disregarded. Bruce would never recover. That was it. The end of Batman.

...But first, God he hated himself, wanted to just curl up in a corner and forget everything, first he had a young brother he needed to talk to. One... one little brother less than just this afternoon.

“Jason... ” He swallowed, his throat tight, his heart in denial, the words so damning, but needing to be said. “Jason did not make it. He... he's dead.”

Damian stayed thoughtfully silent.

Not... not the tearful reaction he had expected, but Damian had grown up surrounded by so much death and horror that he would obviously be guarded. And oh, Dick's heart went to his baby brother, and he truly wished he could

“I do not understand. Why such theatrics for the zombie?”

Dick gasped, knowledge warring with the flash of anger.

“Damian! He's our brother!”

“Did he lose his head?” Damian demanded, and Dick's mind buckled.

“Huh, no, but that doesn't have anything to d-”

“Then, why are you acting so weirdly emotional, Richard?”

Before Dick's temper could catch up to his mouth, the longest and most painful-sounding gasp erupted from the medbay, where, to the general shock of all, Jason's gray-ish body shot upward with both his arms raised.

Electroshocks didn't make you jolt like that.

Electroshocks, in fact, remained in their kit on the other side of the medbay, unused. Because Jason had seemingly been dead long before he had been brought to the cave.

That was roughly the moment when Dick's brain caught up with the first of many hints. Latched onto it with a fool's hope.

“... Damian... When you were calling Jason a 'zombie', what did you mean?”

Damian's brows scrunched up together, a look he meant to be intimidating, but had more in common with a disgruntled kitten. “Exactly that, Richard. Do we not have files on zombies in the computer? Dead bodies walking about animated by unholy powers?”

Jason's not- Dick forced the half formed thought to a halt. For once, he rather wanted to be very, very wrong in how he perceived his family.

“What's with all the noise? Can't someone try to sleep like the dead without screaming?” Jason groused. “Should have gotten myself buried ag-OOF!”

“JASON!” screamed the hysterical teenager that had launched himself at a very lively dead body.

“Huhh? Hi, Timmy?” Jason said blearily, ruffling Tim's hair, eyebags suspiciously prominent. “... Fear gas?”

The blinking slowed, the fog of sleep drifting away as he silently begged the rest of them for an answer.

Happily provided by a still crying Tim. “I thought you were gone!”

“What is dead may never die,” Jason quipped, his mouth twisting in that cocksure grin from his Robin days.

And Dick wanted nothing more than to stop right there, pass out from the relief and joy of his little brother being alive and kicking, but...

But... 

That joke. One of many morbidly unfunny jokes and puns.

Bone-deep fatigue crushed his back. A bitter curse for whatever higher forces messing with them echoed strongly inside his skull, before he gave in to the inevitable and inhaled a few times for patience.

“Jason. We thought you were dead-dead.”

With prickly, hedgehog style affection, Jason pushed Tim back and stood up, stretching. “Come off it, Goldie. I wasn't even decapitated. I mean, if you were really worried, you could have just called a necromancer or something.” His expression hardened. “But if you ever call a necromancer on my ass, I'll shoot your perfect glutes.”

Yup, yup, yup, this is happening.

Tim finally wiped the rest of the tears away, helped by one of Stephanie's handkerchiefs, when he froze. “Wait. Your skin's still pale as a corpse.”

The flicker of amusement in Jason's eyes killed it for Dick.

God, how could they have all been this idiotic? If Wally ever learned about this – Shit, did Roy and Kory know before him?!

They were going to laugh their asses off at him.

Jason, unaware of the world recalibration happening in his poor big brother's mind, shrugged and rolled his shoulders – who creaked suspiciously loudly, more like rusty hinges than normal body parts. “Eh, I'm just a bit hungry. Nothing a meal or two won't fix and get some blood flowing back under my s-”

“You're a zombie.”

They turned toward him.

“Way to cross the finish line on time, Mister Rabbit,” Jason drawled.

Barbara, for once, looked completely unprepared. “A zombie,” she repeated, dazed.

Stephanie's nervous giggle died out when she noticed the lack of humor. “... No!”

Cassandra furiously looked down, muttering in her fist. Duke, by contrast, had the expression of a person stuck in a very awkward nightmare.

Even Jason's good-natured ribbing faded in when faced only with the distant screeched of bats. “... Hm, guys, bats, roostery, parasites and octopi? This is old news. What's with all the... ”

He vaguely gestured at their faces.

“Old news?” Tim rasped like he was being strangled.

“I came back from the dead years ago! Come on! Am I in a parallel universe? Hey, Demon Brat,” Jason called, baffled, “you knew, right? I didn't imagine that, right?!”

“Of course, Todd. Mother informed me of everything. Besides, Grandfather's interest in your state of being was of interest for a few weeks. How could I have been ignorant about your zombified state of being?”

In the corner of his eyes, Dick noticed Tim's, Barbara's and Cassandra's expressions all pinching in displeasure. In a way, Dick was reassured. He hadn't been the target of a family-wide hoax to discredit him as an attentive and loving eldest brother. No, he was just naturally blind, apparently.

“He knew?” Tim growled, like it was a personal failing of the fabric of time and space.

Damian's tone was the exact opposite. “And none of you realized...?”

Dick squirmed. “I... huh... you see...”

His baby brother eyed him, completely unimpressed, and for once after years of partnership, Dick felt he deserved every single ounce of it.

“I see... I shall reevaluate the value of this 'detective training' I've been given if this is the result then,” he said, the nearest thing to completely disavowing his older siblings without saying so.  

In other circumstances, perhaps the others would have demanded that Damian stay and explain, but he suspected the quelling look it would have deserved prevented them. Not one of them spoke until Damian had disappeared upstairs and the elevator doors had closed.

“Jason, since when have you been a zombie?”

Jason blinked, jaw hanging. Juuuust enough for some of the scar tissue on his face to stretch past normal. Why did Dick only notice that now?

“Wait, you're all serious? How could you not know? I told you guys!”

And there was Dick's pride rearing its ugly head, because no, no he had not been told and maybe his deductive skills needed a very complete overhaul, but his memory was still excellent!

“You never said that. Heck, we weren't even talking until two years ago!”

“I literally told you all that I crawled out of my grave by myself, groaning the entire time. No experiment, no Lazarus Pit, just a body waking up in its own coffin and deciding to breathe fresh air. Does that not scream 'zombie' to you?”

They cringed.

“Not the only one that returned from beyond,” Babs mumbled. He could see her pull up the mental list right there.

“I greeted you all last meeting with a 'What's up, my bat folks? It's me, your favorite zombie!'. What did you think that meant?”

“That you're an asshole with a morbid sense of humor?” Stephanie quipped, and Jason momentarily paused his indignation to high five her. Fair's fair.

“Okay, but what about that time I got shot in the chest and I told you all not to worry about it?”

“I just figured you were going to get stitched up by Leslie or yourself, you know, regular bat neuroses,” Tim confessed.

Dick made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Tim's patrols for the next few months.

“From a bullet chest wound?” Jason asked with an incredulousness that was not at all earned, because he was a freaking zombie!

“I thought your armor had blocked it! The hole wasn't bleeding!” Tim protested, cheeks red and tone defensive.

“Well, yeah,” Jason replied. “I don't bleed. It's like some fruit pulp or something. Ain't coming out if you don't press. My heart's not pumping.”

That's a 'nevermind' on the smoothie I saved for after patrol.

“Well, I know that now,” Tim said.

“I feel like I should write it down on the plaque or something,” Jason still sounded amazed, and might have pinched his arm just to be sure he hadn't been daydreaming, “Like, 'a good soldier AND A VERY DISCRETE ZOMBIE!' in big flaming letters. With a spotlight. And a dictionary opened on 'Zombie' or 'Undead'. You know, just in case the next batbrat to come along needs a few subtle hints about my true nature. What'd you think, Dick?”

He could not have been blushing harder than he currently was. “I think shut up.”

“Of course. What about when I shoved my deadly cold toes at Tim under a blanket?”

“Cold feet.”

“Never eating around you guys?”

“Daddy issues with Bruce,” Barbara deadpanned, and got a sock thrown at her for her honesty.

However, Duke, poor kid, turned green. “Wait, so when you offered me some jellied brain... was that not a death joke?”

Dick's stomach spontaneously shrivelled.

By the grimaces and sharp inhales all around, that was a common reaction.

Then the worst possible thing happened: Jason grinned.

He strutted, all confidence and brashness, and viper-quick, snatched an arm around Duke's shoulder. “Narrows, Nightlight, my tiny bitsy bro, everything I do is a death joke. My very existence laughs at death.”

Inside the batcave, the groaning was long-suffering and shameful.

“But that was actually brains,” Duke countered.

“Yeah. Calf brains. It's a delicacy.”

Tim massaged his forehead. What a mood.

Duke narrowed his eyes. “It was purely for the joke, wasn't it?”

Jason patted him on the back so hard Duke faltered. “One tragically wasted on your obtuse mind. I prefer me some Tête fromagée instead. Less like grainy jello.”

Stone-faced, Barbara wheeled herself toward the batcomputer. There, upon a series of quick clicks, she opened up the Bats's files. “Alright, you had your fun. Do you need to eat brains or are you just the world's least funny meathead?”

“I'm the world's most misunderstood vigilante!” Jason loudly protested, milking their pain for all it was worth. And then some. “But yeah, I do. No grey matter in there” -- he tapped his belly -- “no thinking up here.” -- his skull.

“Need some better quality brains then,” Tim stage-whispered to Stephanie.

Cass pointed the finger at Jason. “No killing for brains.”

Jason's good humor flickered with a flash of green. “Ain't ever done it, never will. It's a matter of morals, not hunger, Cass.”

Dick swooped in that minefield before it exploded.

“Great! Proud of you, Jay! You're the good kind of vegetarian zombie,” he said, putting an arm around his ginormous little brother's shoulders.

Wait a minute...

“Hey, you're older than when you died! Zombies don't age.”

“No, I was thrown into a Lazarus Pit, and the evil waters cured the malnutrition-induced delay on my growth. Haven't aged a day since.”

“I just thought you had a weird babyface thing going on,” Tim said.

Jason's grin turned sardonic. “Quite the opposite, Timber.”

Dick put his head in his hands in some vain attempt to prevent his brain from leaking through his ears.  With his luck, his little brother would 'playfully' eat some of it. “There's no way you look this rugged at biologically sixteen! I refuse to believe that.”

“Can you imagine my power if I'd been allowed to reach my full potential?” Jason leered, eyebrows waggling like waves in a sea at storm. “So many heart attacks.”

Barbara and Cassandra exchanged a silent look, and, after a solemn nod, Cassandra reached up to slap Jason upside the head.

“Thank you, Cassandra,” Barbara told her. “Jason, never do such a thing again.”

The disgruntled groan that followed must have been on purpose, because Jay was indeed an asshole.

“Besides, it's not like the world will ever know,” Tim said, cutting, a smirk hiding by his hand.

Dick really thought his little brother was far too relaxed upon learning that Jason was one with the undead. Sure, they had all encountered various levels of zombies during their missions, from all sorts of oral traditions and cultures, alien viruses and hidden nanobots piloting meat puppets. It wasn't even classified as a nation-wide crisis to encounter free-roaming zombies. But since the chronically unalive individual in question was one of their own, Dick felt he was owed at least a whole evening of frazzled panic and incomprehension for once.

“Oh?” Stephanie instead asked, sensing blood.

Tim shrugged. “Well, you know, no pulse, no blood flow,” he said with an angled eyebrow nodding at Jason's crotch

Stunned silence followed, their expressions varying from disgust, horror, unholy glee and, from Jason himself, wide-eyed shock that his shrimp of a little brother had had the balls to assimilate the zombieness fast enough to mock him for him.

Dick prayed for patience. For fortitude. And for an alternate timeline where he was an only child.

Why, for all the love of cotton candy and professional uncriminal clowns, did Tim put THAT image of Jason inside their brains? What had he done, him, a loving model for all of society, to suffer like this?

Maybe if he asked nicely, Jason would eat the image out of his head. He owed Dick that much after this clusterfuck of a conversation.

“Ooooooooh,” Stephanie crooned, miming getting dunked on. With acrobatics.

Jason huffed. “Like I was ever interested in the first place. I ain't Dick.”

“Okay, no slut shaming or virgin shaming, in fact, no shaming at all, please. In this house, we accept all sexualities, but we don't give out raunchy details about any of it, I only have so much brain bleach.”

“Share?” Duke pleaded in a whisper.

Oh, I wish I could, you young innocent soul.

A few beeps turned their attention back to Barbara and the batcomputer. “Well, that's one long overdue update to Jason's files. Anyone else want to share their 'obvious' medical condition?”

“Excuse you, being dead is not a medical condition.”

“I will make you wish for the peace of the grave, Jason.”

Droplets dripped from nearby stalactites.

A few bats flew overhead.

Jason turned to them like nothing had been said.

“Right. That was fun. Best night of my month. Can't wait to tell the Outlaws.”

Dick resigned himself to a series of unflattering texts by the absolute dickheads that were his second family. He could already tell the messages would blow up his phone to the Moon. 'You didn't know your brother that came back from the dead is a zombie?!'

“Have mercy and wait tomorrow morning?”

That smile could have been great or terrible. “You're lucky I'm in a spectacularly good mood, Dick.”

He had lifted his leg over his bike's seat when Duke was struck by genuine worry.

“Wait. Does Bruce know?”

Jason barked out a laugh.

“Of course he does! God knows he's got some massive blind spots, but he's obsessive, paranoid and I find subcutaneous trackers on me every week. No way he didn't get the hint before now.”

But, as his gaze went over the rest of them, his good cheer dimmed, his grin slipping off his face as surely as a bit of decayed flesh.

“... Right?”

[wille-zarr]

The Mandalorian: “That’s My Girl”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter Nine ~ “That’s My Girl”

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated M for language; smoking; violence; mild descriptions of wounds; mild sexual themes; angst

word count: 14.4k

chapter summary: heartbroken and grief-stricken, you do everything within your power to stay hidden away from danger… and din djarin. but when plans go horrifically awry, you have no choice but to face down a ghost from your past.

story summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n: @sana-katarn​ suffered and nearly died for this chapter. give her a follow as a thank you from me. (though she’ll also happily accept pictures of cassian andor in her inbox instead.)

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter Nine: “That’s My Girl”

“Mando can’t kill us if he can’t find us.”

“Pablo,” Cara snaps. “We can’t just-”

“It’s not our fault the Mandalorian’s ‘girlfriend’ ran away.” Pablo scoots forward, a scowl etched deep on his face. “But he’s going to shoot us when he finds out-”

“Shoot you, maybe.”

“Pardon? If memory serves me-” Pablo waves a hydro-spanner at her- “we were both left to look after Mando’s precious little sunstar.”

“Get that thing out of my face.” Cara swats at the hydro-spanner, ignoring Pablo’s curse as it flies through the air.

Maker. She can’t believe she’s been stuck alone with Pablo for three whole days. The man is-

“Hey!”

Cara twists, watching as Peli stomps around the side of the Razor Crest, barely visible even with the moonlight.

“I can hear everything you’re saying! You’re not about to run away-” Peli juts a thumb at her chest- “leaving me with the fallout!”

“Oh, come on, Ms. Peli.” Pablo flashes her a cheeky grin. “You have 4PO to protect yourself, right?”

“4PO!”

-Crash.

“Oh, Maker’s mercy!”

“4PO! Get off the ground, for land’s sake!” Peli growls. “Pick yourself up!”

<my existence is but an illusion>

…

“Oh, kriffin’ hell.”

…

“Well…. Anyway… you can’t expect me to handle an angry Mandalorian all by myself!” Peli squawks, shoving at Pablo’s shoulder. “I swear, I’ll have my droids strip every last-”

“We aren’t leaving.” Cara shoots Pablo a pointed look.

He throws his hands in the air, avoiding meeting both their eyes.

“I’m watching you,” Peli grumbles, jabbing a finger at Pablo as she walks away. “4PO! I swear- get UP!”

Releasing a pained sigh, Cara begins going through the motions of loading and unloading her weapon, a distraction against the apprehension, the concern for you beginning to weigh heavy in her chest.

Sure, you might be impulsive, reckless even, but Cara knows you aren’t stupid- far from it, in fact.

…

But damn it if you aren’t being stupid right now.

Just… up and running away? No goodbyes? With bounty hunters- Mandalorian bounty hunters- trailing after you?

…

You won’t last long, and Cara knows it.

And you had to know it too.

“Such, a rash, senseless move. We could have helped her,” Cara mutters, rubbing her brow. “I just… why did she up and leave like that? She’s going to get caught within days.”

Pablo stops spinning the hydro-spanner long enough to chuckle. “So-” he quirks his brow- “you have no faith in that bewildering brain of hers?”

…

“No.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Cara slaps hand against her thigh. “Blast! I just wish Din would get his ass back into town… Maybe I should take out a bike, search for him in Mos Pelgo.”

After all, every day that goes by… Maker, you’ll be only that much more impossible to track. And while Cara respects your independence- your freedom to choose to play the part of the sacrificial hero, in turn sparing your friends from further threat, she also knows-

Din’s… not going to take this well.

“If we couldn’t find any trace of her after three days of searching-” Pablo leans forward, resting his forearms against his thighs- “what makes you think he’ll have better luck?”

Silence.

“Pablo-”

“Oh, I know, I know. He’s an ‘elite bounty hunter,’” he mocks. “Deadly, efficient, blah, blah, blah.” He leans back with a sigh, stretching out across the crate.

“And you ought to know it.” Cara bites back a smirk.

Does she really want to get him going…?

…

Yes.

“After all, Pablo, you’re personally well acquainted with the Mandalorian’s hunting techniques.”

He shoots straight up. “I almost got away from him!” he snaps. “If it wasn’t for that Carbonite, I would have-”

“-Oh, here we go…” Cara chuckles, covering both eyes with a hand. All too easy.

“It’s true!” he barks, throwing both hands in the air. “If Mando hadn’t flung me into the freezing bay, sealing me within that cold, dark, terrifying… tomb of, uh…um… C-carbonite...”

Silence.

“Hell, Cara!” Eyes blasting wide open, Pablo leaps to his feet. “I’m getting the kark outta here!”

“Hold up.” Cara’s hand lashes out, grabbing a fistful of Pablo’s shirt and yanking him back. “Just you calm down- I’ll keep you safe, Babycakes.”

He huffs. “The hell?... Babycakes?” Stuffing both hands in his pockets, he faces away from her. “Uh, love you too, I guess? ... Um, anyway- I still don’t know how he’ll track her if she’s already left the system.”

“This is why you’re the scheming con artist,” Cara sighs, shifting forward to stand, “and he’s the bounty hunter.”

“I prefer the title ‘opportunistic entrepreneur.’”

“Charlatan, swindler, cheat-”

“Now kriffin’ look here-”

“HE’S BACK!” Peli yelps somewhere in the distance.

Cara’s heart squeezes.

Din.

Thank the Maker!

A wave of relief washes over Cara… immediately replaced by a tidal wave of dread. Cara knows he’s probably going to ask for you right away-

Shit.

“Cara!” Pablo hisses, rushing to stand beside her. “What’s the plan? Plan, Cara?!” He twists his eyes to stare out across the hanger. “Do we have a plan? What do we say?”

“Stay calm and shut up!” Cara jumps up, foisting Pablo back down into his seat, ignoring his yelp of protest. “I’ll tell him.”

“Just remember-” he lifts his finger, a brow quirking up- “I’m Babycakes. Don’t let him hurt me.”

“Oh, Maker,” she groans, burying her face in the palms of her hands.

“QUICK!” Peli screeches, dashing around the back of the Crest, flapping her arms in the air. “Act natural! SHOO, go away, droids! Maker, can’t you see we’re in a crisis right now? I swear!”

Peli slams rear-first into a chair, the seat shooting back a few feet against the momentum of the action. Pablo, equally as jumpy, begins fiddling with the random pieces of mechanical junk surrounding him.

“Oh, stars, you both look so suspicious- uh, Mando!”

There he is.

The Mandalorian is frozen beside the Razor Crest, the soft moonlight casting a hazy glow against his Beskar armor. Resting across his back, a bar strung up with gear and supplies weighs his shoulders down low.

He doesn’t move. He just… stares, angles his head to the side.

Oh, great. Just great.

He had to of heard all the yelling- he knows something’s wrong.

“Din?” Cara rises to her feet. “What- why are you carrying all of that? Here, let me-”

“No.”

The curt reply slaps her hands back.

“Well, someone had a lousy trip,” she mutters as she moves to sit back down. Even with her fatigued sigh, she’s unable to keep a slight smile from slipping onto her face at sight of the baby- only the tips of his ears visible from satchel resting against his father’s side.

The Mandalorian lumbers forward, each step slow, weighted, the clank-clank of his Beskar and blaster-casings the only noise reverberating throughout the hanger.

“…Sorry,” he mumbles, barely audible through his helm’s vocoder. Ducking his head away from Cara, he gently lowers his gear, resting it down against the hanger floor. “It’s… been a long couple of days.”

Even with the burden of his gear now lifted from him, his shoulders remain slumped forward, exhaustion, weariness tattooed on every square inch of his frame. The stance is completely unlike the ordinarily deft, foreboding Mandalorian- abnormal enough for concern to take root in Cara’s mind.

“What happened to you?” she snorts, raising an eyebrow at his languid, fatigued walk forward. “What- hell, Din, what’s that… green goop all over your armor?”

He doesn’t answer- just dips his gloves into the satchel wrapped around his torso, hauling out the sleepy-eyed, listless child. Peli- without waiting for permission- takes the baby from his hands, tucking him against her chest.

“You have a lot to learn about raising a young’un,” Peli grumbles, stroking a finger across the child’s left ear. “He’s too young to be dragged half-way cross the desert on some- some fool’s errand.” She glares at him with the word “fool.”

Din reaches a gloved hand out, his hand cradling the side of his son’s face.

“I know.”

Cara lowers her brows, concern and anxiety for you squeezing in her chest again, only building with every moment that passes.

“Oh, lookie here! He brought meat!” Peli interrupts Cara’s fretting, lifting up a corner of burlap with her free hand to peer beneath it. “DROIDS! Pull out that- no, stop! We’ve gotta cook- no!”

Cara smiles wearily as Peli bounces away, shouting demands at her droids. But Din stands still, unmoving, visor trained on the ground beneath his feet.

“Well, damn, man-” Pablo reaches down into his shirt pocket, pulling out a cigarra. “You look beat to hell.” He reaches up, lighting the cigarra. Pulling it away from his lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Oh, oh shit, what is all that green stuff?”

“Krayt Dragon stomach acid.”

…

“Kriff, man. Well… I guess that’d do it.”

The Mandalorian bends his knees, sitting down with a pained grunt. He sighs, deep, heavy, his head tilting forward to stare at the dirt.

“Sounds like a party.” A smile quirks on Cara’s lips. “Should have invited us.”

He grunts.

“On the way back, a group of mercs tripped my bike.” Leaning forward on his thighs, he glances back up. “Destroyed it. Had to walk.”

“Kark, they are after the chip again?” Cara growls, clenching her fists. “Just great. How’d they even find you?”

“I don’t know.” The Mandalorian shakes his head, his voice slowing with every word. “I… eliminated them before they could be questioned.”

“Damn!”

…

“Hey, so just to clarify, that’s dragon meat and not merc meat, right?”

“Pablo-”

“Just making sure!”

“Well, this little one would eat either!” Peli snorts, walking up the child, who’s beginning to fuss and whine in her arms. He pushes against her chest, motioning to be let down. “Alright, alright.” Peli coos, setting the child back down on the ground.

The child bolts straight for Din, a long, high-pitched whine erupting from his tiny frame. The Mandalorian obliges him, hauling him up into his lap.

“He’s been-” he pauses, staring down at the child in his lap- “…irritable since we left.”

The Mandalorian begins shifting side to side, almost nervously, in his seat. Setting the child against his hip, he leans forward with a grunt and stands.

“I-” the Mandalorian rasps, stealing a quick glance over at the open ramp of the Razor Crest. With a small groan, so small that Cara almost missed it, he tears his visor away from the starship. “I think he’s been missing… the girl.”

He turns.

“I… he misses the sound of her voice… her… laugh.”

…

“Uh oh,” Pablo mumbles under his breath, shoving the cigarra back in his mouth and turning his body away. At the same moment, Peli- taking Din’s words as her call to action- rips the child out of his arms, muttering under her breath to him as she practically flees from the scene.

The Mandalorian stares at the Razor Crest, oblivious to everyone’s discomfort.

“Is she inside?”

His tone is soft, affectionate…. Damn, there’s… just no easy way to do this.

“Mando-”

One word gives it away.

…

“Where is she?”

…

“Where’s the girl?”

“Din, it’s-”

“Now.”

Din isn’t speaking.

This is the Mandalorian.

“She’s… gone.”

“What do you mean-” his voice tightens- “she’s gone?”

“She ran away, man.” Pablo pulls the cigarra from his lips. “Lost to the force.”

“Pablo!” Cara barks. “Stick a sock in it.”

“We-” the Mandalorian drops to his seat- the word barely a whisper- “…we had words, argued, but-” He leans forward, visor piercing, burning the ground.

“Tell me what happened.”

His voice is hard- the affection, any hint of weariness, stripped from his words.

“I think she thinks she’s protecting us,” Cara sighs. “…From bounty hunters.”

The Mandalorian shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. We’re both involved with the Taek-”

“The same day you left for Mos Pelgo, she had a conversation with Karga.” Cara stands, frown deepening on her face. “He told her that three bounty hunters had approached him on Navarro, asking for information… about her- not concerning the events on Taek. About something else entirely. She thanked Karga; told him she would take care of it. And then she just- slipped away without a word to us.”

The Mandalorian just stares- stares straight ahead as if Cara had never spoken a word.

“…Din?”

“Shit…” he breathes, clenching his hand into a fist. “Shit.”

“Din?”

-slam-

“-Kark, man!”

Din lifts his fist from the crate, ignoring the crack he left behind. “We have to find her.” He shoots up. “We have to find her first.”

A noise- Pablo clearing his throat.

“Cara forgot to mention something.” He takes a puff of his cigarra, disregarding Cara’s warning glare. “The hunters searching for Sweetheart are Mandalorian.”

…

“Damn it,” Din hisses- a sharp rasp of breath through his modulator.

“Well,” Cara grumbles under her breath, looking down to tighten the holster against her thigh. “What’s the plan-”

“Connections,” Din snaps. He spins around, stalking straight for the Razor Crest. “We’ll track down her connections on Tatooine.”

“How do we do that?” Cara sprints to catch up, their footsteps clanking against the metal ramp of the ship. “We don’t know a thing about her, not even the name she went by here.”

The Mandalorian does not speak- does not answer. He merely reaches forward- slams his hand against the control panel for the ship’s Holonet display.

“Din?” Cara prods.

“‘Damn best racer.’”

She lifts a brow. “Pardon?”

“‘Damn best racer,’” he repeats, typing orders into the system. “A speeder bike race-” he lifts his helmet, the words from the Holonet display reflecting off of his visor- “she won one. On Tatooine. Years ago.”

“Ah,” Cara nods her head, beginning to catch on. “Find the race, and you find her connections, her sponsors. Sponsors she might have recently contacted for help.”

Din doesn’t respond, completely engrossed with the display before him.

“Hey.” Resting a light hand atop his vambrace, Cara forces her voice to soften. “You know, if you do find her, you can’t… force her to stay under your protection-” she pulls her hand back- “if she doesn’t want to.”

…

“…I know.”

He stops- stops typing- dips the edge of his helmet against his chest.

“I just… want to talk. Make sure she has a plan… Credits.”

He resumes typing, punching demands into the Holonet.

“…Make sure she’s… safe.”

With a heavy sigh, Cara stares into Din’s blank, unreadable visor.

Unreadable, yes. But that didn’t matter.

The frantic clank-clank-clank of fingertips pounding against search keys told her everything she needed to know.

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

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t react to Cara’s grumble- just keeps his head pointed forward. But the curl of his gloves; the clench of fingers against his holster told her-

-He agrees.

A flash of sunlight grabs at her attention, drawing her eyes to stare at the gleaming marble walls- a stark comparison to the dry, arid sands of Tatooine rolling just outside the building’s walls. And she ought to know- they just spent the last blasted hour traveling through a relentless sandstorm to reach the compound’s gates.

“Hey,” she calls, attempting to catch the guard’s attention. “Where exactly are you tak- oh!”

Two double doors burst open- revealing an enormous, palatial… dining room?

If you could even call it that.

Art museum might would be a better descriptor.

“Ah, it’s true- a Mandalorian!” booms a voice that practically shakes the ornate chandeliers hanging from the rafters.

“Now, I knew you couldn’t all be dead.” The voice, a Cathar, stands up from his chair at the head of the table. He shoots his fur-covered hand out to the side, his embroidered sleeve swaying as he beckons them forward. “After all, if you were all dead, you actually made terrible warriors, you know?”

Cara glances at the Mandalorian-

Uh oh.

Shoulders tight- fists clenched against his thighs- he steps forward-

“-Aric Thall!” Cara barks.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me!” Thall bares his fangs in a… smile? “This should be interesting. Please, sit. Join me in my dinn-”

“We’re here on business, Thall.”

The air stills.

…

The Cathar sinks back into his chair.

“Ah,” he sighs. “So, you’re here on… business. Disappointing. Well, you’re not here to collect me, I hope?” the Cathar grumbles, glancing over at his guards. They stand with weapons drawn- ready to take the threat- Din- head on at Thall’s first order.

He flashes another fang-filled grin. “I’m innocent, I swear. My cousin’s the dirty one.” He flops back and sighs, letting both his arms hang off the side of the chair.

Cara rolls her eyes. “Oh, kriffin-”

“I’m here for information.”

The Mandalorian’s tone is hard- grit and warning dripping from each of his words.

“…About what?”

“A race,” the Mandalorian snaps, taking a broad step forward.

 “Oh, be specific- I’ve held thousands!” Thall flips like a switch, his persona flooded once again with jubilancy and charm. “But you have certainly piqued my interest.” He holds out a hand. “Please, continue, Mandalorian.”

Your Tatooine name- the one discovered after hours of careful research- drops from the Mandalorian’s vocoder.

“Oh. Oh,” Thall groans, squeezing both eyes shut. “Oh, don’t remind me! Wild little thing-” he presses against his temples- “she left me holding the bag with the Hutts when she disappeared after winning the Boska Springs Classic. Valen’s doing- no doubt. Her grandfather had no imagination.” Thall opens his eyes with a sigh. “When she wasn’t racing, she was giving me a headache.” He leans forward to take a sip from his glass, wiping his mouth with a napkin before continuing.

“Still, so much wasted potential,” he sighs, staring at the glass in his hand. “The girl was karking nuts. The only racer batshit crazy enough to cut a route through a Rancor’s den as a shortcut.”

Cara can’t help but smile.

Well, hell yeah, kid.

Her eyes drift up to Din, who’s now standing a few feet in front of her. Both of his hands are latched on his belt- his shoulders rising ever-so-slightly in… pride? Respect?

Perhaps both.

“You’ve not been in contact with her recently.”

The Mandalorian states it as a fact, his tone even, indifferent. But she- his friend- heard the disappointment layered in between his words.

“I didn’t say that,” the Cathar purrs, folding his fingers together.

“…Has she been in contact?” The Mandalorian slowly, carefully stalks closer. “Answer me.”

Thall chuckles.

“Depends on why you’re asking, Mandalorian.”

Silence.

“Or more importantly-” the Cathar stands, strolling forward, pausing in front of the Mandalorian- “what are you willing to give in return for my information?”

Cara can’t help but notice Thall’s eyes… drift across the Mandalorian’s Beskar.

“I’m not making any deals-” Din steps forward, closing the distance between him and the Cathar- “until you answer my question.”

“Fine. Fair enough,” Thall sighs, folding his arms behind his back. “She was here not that long ago, looking to reconnect with some of her old friends.”

“Where-”

“She’ll have left the planet by now.”

…

The Mandalorian’s shoulders tighten.

“But-” the Cathar throws out a hand dismissively- “I know how you can find her.” He grins and takes a step back. “My question is, again, what are you willing to give up in order to find that information out?”

…

“How much do you want?”

The Mandalorian’s words- dry, hoarse- linger in the air.

“Your Beskar-”

“-is not up for trade.”

“Ah! Fine- I have a… much more profitable proposal to offer you. Profitable for me, at least.” Throwing his head back, Thall grins at the ceiling- chuckles.

Oh, Dank Ferrik.

Cara knew she had a bad feeling about this.

“We’ve had a bit of a-” Thall spins his hand around- “let’s say, entertainment drought since the fall of Hutt control. We’re desperate for a good show- good excitement. A reason for a little friendly… betting amongst friends.”

“How does this concern me?”

Din’s patience is wearing thin.

“How does it concern you, Mandalorian?” Thall chuckles. “Well, you’re walking, talking entertainment!”

…

Dank Ferrik. He couldn’t mean-

“I don’t want your credits, Mandalorian; I want everyone else’s credits!” Thall holds up three fingers. “Three fights, starring you, my friend, as primary challenger. I intend to make a small fortune off ticket sales, and the betting?” Low whistle. “Credits galore!”

The Mandalorian tilts his head- staring straight at the Cathar- silent, unmoving.

“You’ll never find her,” Thall says through a clenched smile, “without me.”

“Mando.” Cara steps up right behind him, keeping her voice low. “I don’t think this is a good idea. He’s leading you on. He doesn’t know anything.”

“If he does?” The Mandalorian pauses, angling his head back. “…I’ll take that risk.”

He turns away.

“Do you agree then, Mandalorian?” The Cathar grins, already sensing his answer. “You’ll fight?”

…

“…I’ll fight.”

“Fantastic! I will jus-”

“But just know, if you don’t follow through-” the Mandalorian slowly, deliberately places a hand against his belt- “the last thing you’ll remember is regret for this moment.”

Thall slaps a hand on the Mandalorian’s back, grinning as if Mando hadn’t just threatened to kill him. “Understandable position!... Then let’s lay the rules out…”

Cara grits her teeth.

Oh, here it comes…

“You win two of three fights… and you get the information you seek.”

The Mandalorian turns his helmet, glaring at Thall.

“But you lose two of three fights… or die-” he smiles- “and I keep your Beskar... These are the conditions- I will not budge.”

The Mandalorian huffs.

“… I don’t plan on losing.”

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

You’re about to commit a murder.

“Curse me out one more time-” you bare your teeth at the Ortolan- “and I’ll stomp you into oblivion.”

The Ortolan just… screams.

“Fine! Fine!” you grumble, taking a step to the side. “Look, I’ll just leave the box over here-”

"-M, m buoou!”

“Okay…. here?”

“Daneeveo dueenboomo!”

…

“…What the hell are you saying?”

“Leeela duundao m…..” The Ortolan whines, yanking on his nose in clear distress.

Oh, to kriff with it.

You knew this was a bad idea.

But beggars can’t be choosers. This Ortolan crew was the only one which offered you a job as a mechanic, for that you are grateful. So, as long as you didn’t start a fire like the last repair you attempted, ultimately leading to your unceremonious marooning on Taek…

You’ll be… just…uh,  fine!

…

Yeah.

Either way, you’re willing to take that risk. Anything’s worth it to get off Tatooine as soon as possible. Every minute lingered… stars. You’ve already stayed much, much too long… After all, who, at this point, isn’t trying to find you?

The Mandalorian bounty hunters- you… you don’t want to think about them; what- what they might do on his orders…

Kriff.

Kriff.

Next in line to destroy your life, there’s the Nar Shaddaa hunters. You’ve already been karkin’ stabbed by one. You don’t exactly want to make it easy for them to finish the job.

And then there’s…

Din.

Mandalorian, friend, protector…

…

A good man.

And maybe you are just- completely delusional… But he… cares a lot about you… Then again, the way he spoke to you- the things he said just before leaving-

…

Does he?

…It doesn’t matter.

“J-just,” you push out, rapidly blinking as you look away from the Ortolan. “Let’s agree to move on, start fresh? Otherwise-” you force a tight smile, waving your hand at the starship- “this will be a long, long trip to Nal Hutta.”

Kriff this.

Kriff all of this.

You- shit.

Shit!

Squeezing your eyes tightly together, you spin away, placing your back between you and the Ortolan crew. Damn it- it’s been three days already! Why do you still feel- feel this- this..?

…grief?

You open your eyes.

That’s what it is, isn’t it?

Grief.      

You can’t help but snort, almost… relieved at the realization. After all, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s suppressing kriffing grief. Should be simple enough- no one’s even died this time, an overall improvement, you think.

You inhale deeply, pressing a palm to your cheek. Stars, this is going to be- KRIFF!

A hand on your arm-

You spin-

Hand to your belt-

Grab at the staff-

“Whoa! Wait! Hold on!” A hand grips your wrist. “Hey, wait!”

“Screw off!” you shriek, using your free hand to punch at the man’s chest. “Get away-”

“-I’m not trying to hurt you!”

…

You gawk at the man’s face.

Green eyes.

Sandy hair.

Tan skin.

Crooked nose-

-because you broke it years ago.

“Tesen!” you gasp, leaping into his arms.

“Hell!” he grunts, taken aback by your sudden shift in temperament “Kark, thought you were about to break my nose again!”

“Weeping Womprats, Tesen!” You grin, pulling back from the embrace. “Hell, I’ve missed you like a Hutt misses dinner!”

“Well, kriff then.” He flashes you a shy smile, diverting his eyes to the ground. “Didn’t know you felt that way.”

“You always were my second favorite guy-” an impish grin stretches across your face- “after Gavon, of course.”

“Oof-” he clutches his heart- cringes- “Damn, you haven’t changed, I see.”

Pulling him in for another hug, you can only laugh. “But you were my first favorite mechanic.” You bury your face against his chest. “Only one I’d trust to work on my bike.”

He tenses- then there’s a gentle -pat- against your back.

“Yeah...”

Glancing up, you can only smirk- his cheeks are tinged with warmth, eyes darting everywhere but towards you.

“Don’t blush on my account-” you laugh at his groan and pull away- “I’m not worth it, trust me.” You glance away, your eyes catching the Ortolan crew, just blasted… staring at you.

“OH, so were you lot just going to sit there?” you growl. “Let me get kidnapped?”

…

One Ortolan shrugs.

“Oh, fine,” you sigh. “Well, what do you do these days, Tesen? Still a mechanic?” you ask, your lips sliding into a smirk. “Still working with the racing circuits?”

“No, I work here now.” His own smile quirks at his lips. “Cargo inspector for the planet’s administration.”

“Oh.” Twisting back to glance at the ship, your eyes widen. “Um, I… uh.”

“Don’t worry-” he winks. “I know this ship is carrying… hyperdrives.”

You blink.

“…Sure.”

He laughs, giving a quick nod over at the Ortolan captain. “Let’s just say I have an… understanding with a few of the cargo captains.”

Ah.

No need to say a word- you just return the grin.

“So hey,” Tesen clears his throat, breaking from your gaze. “How’s your old man- Valen?”

…

“He’s, uh… gone.”

“Blast.” Tesen’s voice softens. “I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You slide the toe of your boot across the ground and shake your head.

Hardly…

He’s dead because of you…

“It- it happened a long time ago. Um, anyway… blast. You have no idea how badly I needed to see you again.”

Tesen smiles, his voice perking up. “Oh, yeah? I heard you had been in town, but I never thought I’d run into you like this.”

-Stop.

Your breathing stops.

…

“Wh-what… what?” You stumble back. “How… how did you kn-”

“Aric Thall?” Tesen raises an eyebrow at you. “You… don’t know? About the Mandalorian trying to find you?”

…

Mandalorian…?

…

Trying to find you.

…

Oh.

…

Well.

…

Guess it’s time to fucking go-

-a hand grips, holds you back.

“Let me go, Tesen!” you shout, shoving against him with both hands. “I- I can’t stay- need to- let go!”

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?”

He releases your arm- touches your face.

“What do you kriffing think?” You slap his hand away, your voice rising, straining against the fear and panic and anxiety bubbling up your throat. “…Bounty hunters? They blasted hunt! What? Did you think they wanted to propose marriage to me?”

“Dank Ferrik,” he whispers under his breath. “You need to get out of here. Aric Thall- he’s helping the Mandalorian find you.”

…

Shit.

Shit!

Hands grip, squeeze your shoulders.

“I- I have no idea how they tracked me here!” The words tumble from your lips, your palm slapping across your eyes. “I- oh, Maker!”

“What in the galaxy did you do?” His eyes widen. “You always did have a penchant for trouble. You sure pissed someone off.”

You grit your teeth, choosing to ignore his blatant prodding for information.

“Tell me, Tesen.” Both hands shoot up to your hips. “Everything.”

Tesen shrugs and turns to sit down. “My cousin told me the Mandalorian cut some sort of deal- I don’t have the specifics. But he’s entering Thall’s fighting rings in exchange for information.” He raises a brow, leans forward. “On you.”

You blink.

“Wait… what?”

This… doesn’t sound right.

Tesen shrugs again. “It’s all anyone’s talking about.”

“I’m-” you stare at the wall- “so confused?”

“Yeah, me too.” He scratches his head. “Thall told him you visited, but that you had left the planet. That’s why I was surprised to find you here.”

“…Blast.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Then the lurdo is lying to a Mandalorian.” You shake your head. “Thall is going to get killed.”

“Good.” Tesen glances away, the hint of a small, timid smile on his face. “He… he deserves it- for betraying you.”

Returning the smile, it grows with the warmth crawling across Tesen’s cheeks.

 “One thing I don’t understand-” you sit beside him- “I- I was told three Mandalorians are hunting for me.”

“Maybe so, but only one made a deal with Thall- along with some tough looking woman.”

 …

You blink.

Oh… no.

“…The Mandalorian- did your cousin happen to… describe him?”

“Tall. Scary. Big cape. Big rifle.” He scratches his face. “Um…”

“Color, Tesen.” Your voice lowers. “…What color was his armor?”

“Silver. Pure Beskar.”

…

…

“Is he INSANE?”

Your outburst flings Tesen backwards.

Hands hurling into the air, you release a guttural growl. You- You’re going to kill him- Din Djarin- kill him!

“Whoa- wait-”

“Is he crazy? He’s insane! INSANE!”

You march back and forth, back and forth-

“A few days without me, and he’s already kronged things up- trusting Thall?”

“Hey,” Tesen butts in, waving his hands. “Clue me in here!”

“Tesen!” You stop stomping around long enough to glare at him. “The Beskar- Din- he’s… my friend! I- oh, shit. It’s… complicated. Super, stupidly complicated.”

You bury your face in your hands. “Thall- you know Thall. The man plays dirty.”

“Yeah, so? Everyone knows that.”

“Except my friend!” You moan, leaning up against the hanger wall. “Thall…. SHIT!” You slap both hands over your eyes. “Beskar! Kriff! Thall wants his Beskar! He- you know his fascination with- damn it! Din’s in danger!”

“Wait, what are you going to do?”

“Come with me to Thall’s.” You slap both hands against your hips, your voice taking on a demanding edge. “I need your help.”

“I- I- you know I would,” he sputters. “But I can’t leave my post or-”

“Fine,” you grunt, spinning on your heel. “Then I need to go find someone.” You march towards the hanger doors.

“It was great seeing you again, Tesen!”

“Wait, it’s not safe for you-”

“Goodbye, Ortolans!” You throw a hand in the air as you stalk past their ship. “It’s been fun, but I’m afraid you’ll be needing a replacement mechanic.”

Their cheers are cut off by the slam of the door.

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

His words are cut off by the slam of the door.

-Knock-

-Knock-

“Talk to me, Darling.”

“Just- just leave me alone!”

You sink to the floor, sobs rocking your body as you bury your face in your lap.

“I’m not a mind-reader, little one. Tell me what you need from me.”

-Knock-

-Knock-

“Let me in, kid.”

Grandpa’s husky voice is muffled, barely audible from behind the door. But his words were calm- always so calm.

“Stop shutting me out.”

Always so damn calm.

“I don’t need or want anything from you!” you yell, wiping away your tears with a dirty sleeve. But it’s no use- new tears just roll in to take their place.

“P-please leave me alone! I’m t-tired of you always telling me w-what to do!”

Silence.

"You go out of your way to find the most damaging, dangerous…” You hear him pause- sigh.

You know he’s lighting his pipe.

“Would you rather I left you to self-destruct?”

You only sob harder. “Y-you ruin… e-everything!”

“…I’m trying so hard to keep your head above water-” pause- “but it’s impossible when you are so determined to drown.”

You lift your head- his words beginning to ease your heart- soften your temper like they always do…

“You’re just so…” his voice cracks- “young, little one.”

Your heart shatters.

You’re so kriffing… selfish.

“I can’t control you,” he continues. “I… know you’ll keep running away… searching for whatever it is you’re missing.” His voice grows hoarse, pained with every word. “All I ask is, please, promise me….”

-Pause.

“Please, always come back. You’re… you’re all I have left.”

Footsteps.

He’s walking away.

You slide the door open.

Grandpa is standing by the fire, pipe in his mouth, flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. He turns to give you a tentative look. “…I’m sorry, Darling,” he says, voice rough with his failure.

You don’t speak.

-You bolt forward.

His brawny arms open, receiving you in a tight embrace. You hide away, bury your face in his chest-

-and weep.

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

There he is.

Pablo- leaned back in a chair, faced away from you, smoking that stupid cigarra of his- oblivious that anyone even entered the hanger much less walking up behind him.

“Pablo!” You yank on the back of his chair with a jerk.

“SHIT!”

He flings backwards along with the chair, crashing- hard. “Don’t shoot!” He rolls to the side- stops- freezes.

“Princess?”

He blinks- tilts his head.

“Well, hello?”

“Hello, yourself.” You raise a brow.

“Where have you been?” He leaps to his feet, staring into your eyes like he still couldn’t believe it’s really you.

“I went to get bantha milk. Look, we don’t have time for this-”

“Like hell we do!” Pablo catches your wrist. “Now you just slow down a minute-”

“We don’t have time!”

“You had time to run away-” he drops your arm- “leave everyone worried about you-”

“Yell at me later.” You lower your brows, matching his glare with equal force. “You have to help me.”

“Help you? What, run away again? No-”

“Listen, stop arguing-”

“What if I like arguing?”

“Maker’s mercy, will you shut up and-” you freeze. Glancing up at the sky, you swallow the curses bubbling up your throat.

“Let’s try this again.”

He crosses his arms.

 “Fine,” he sighs, shifting his weight to the side. “Okay, Miss Runaway, what the kriff are you doing here?”

You open your mouth, but no words exit.

 A thought.

“Wait. Where’s…” Biting your lip- you turn, glancing around the hanger. “Where’s the baby?”

Pablo’s demeaner shifts- relaxes. “Peli has him in the ship.” His voice softens with every word, the anger, frustration draining from his face. “Little green kiddo really misses you, Maker only knows why.”

Kriff.

-a stab

-a lurch in your chest.

Damn it… you’re abandoning a child, exactly what you fought with Din over- he’s alone- alone and-

-stop.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your force your mind to refocus… just refocus.

“Keep your voice low.” You pry your eyes open again- shame and embarrassment bleeding along the edge of your heart. “I- let’s not upset the kid. He… it’s best he doesn’t know I’m here.”

…

“What? Why?”

“I’m not staying.”

Pablo blinks.

“I’m- I’m really confused right now. You’re not back to stay?”

“Pablo!” You knock your hat back, placing a hand on your hip. “Maker, can you please keep up? I’m a ticking time bomb!”

You step forward- Pablo steps back.

“I’m. Not. Staying.”

“Relax, relax!” He holds his palms up. “Just start from the top. Kriff, Sweetheart.”

Grabbing his hand, you peer at Pablo from beneath your hat’s brim. “Din- the rusted tin head- is mixed up in something extremely dangerous. He’s got to get out of there- now.”

“Oh, man. Stinks for him.”

“And I have to go warn him-”

“Oh, for sure.”

“-with you.”

…

“No. No.”

He turns- practically runs away from you. “No, no way!”

“You dirty- Pablo!” you bark, stomping after him. “Stop! This is important! He will- kark- Din could die! Please, come with me- we have to get him out of there!”

Growling under your breath, you continue to chase him down. “I can’t let this happen to Din, especially when he’s doing it to find me. Blast it, that’s why I left- so he and the baby wouldn’t be hurt.”

Stars!

Why the hell did Din agree to this- all just to find you? Did he think about the kid if he were to lose, to die? Did he think about any of that? No, of course he didn’t. He has some nerve lecturing you for your impulsion- yet here he is making the decisions of a karkin’ brainless Gundark.

…

He… he must really care about you.

The guilt, the shame that washes over your body distracts you from Pablo’s irritated grunt.

“Sweetheart,” he huffs. “Need I remind you that your precious Mando had me frozen in Carbonite- mailing me, postage paid, to my death?” Pablo throws you a look across his shoulder and keeps moving forward. “So, what makes you think I’d take any risk for him?”

“Pablo!”

“I don’t even like any of you!” he shouts, stuffing some of his possessions into a bag. “No, I’m out. I’m running away too.”

“Please!”

Silence.

“Please… then don’t do it for him.”

You grab his arm, trying to meet his eyes, but he refuses.

“Do it for me.”

He still won’t meet your eyes- but if you know Pablo- his silence means you’re making progress.

“I’m scared to do this alone.” Your voice drops, a mere whisper. “With all the hunters out there- I’m… afraid to go in without you, as much as it pains me to admit.”

“I need you.”

…

He throws his head back- groans. You bite back your own smile.

“Well-” he flops his head to the side- sighs- “I guess it’s nice to be needed. That’s certainly a first for me.”

You grin.

“Pablo, for once-” you give him a peck on the cheek- “I’m actually glad I saved your life.”

“Then-” he smirks- “I think we’re making progress.”

You giggle and slap a hand on his back. “Then let’s get going!”

You start walking forward, eager to get to Thall’s arena as soon as possible- but movement catches your eye.

You glance up.

Inside the cockpit- two little green hands are pressed against the glass-

Air catches in your throat.

You blink- then a hazy voice…

…

“…Mama, up! Up!”

Her little hands tug on the edge of your cloak.

“Okay, little one-” you smirk, hefting her up to look out the glass. “Dang, girl-” you draw her close, painting her cheek with kisses- “you’re growing like a weed. You better stop, or I’ll send you to live with the Lothwolves.”

“There! Look!” she giggles, pulling away from you to press two little hands against the glass. She looks up, shooting you a bright, toothy smile. “Shiny men, Mama! Shiny men!”

“Yeah.” Your smile fades, dread beginning to swirl at the base of your spine.

“Shiny men…”

…

“Hey.”

You jerk around, staring at Pablo.

He nods his head. “You ready?”

You turn back.

The little green hands are gone.

“Let’s go.”

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

“Hey, hold up- excuse me, sorry!”

“Pablo!” You glare down at him from the top of the staircase. “Get your sequined butt up here!”

You suppose there really was no use in glaring at him... After all, your entire face (glare included) is completely hidden by your vocoder mask, the same kind worn by the arena’s singers.

“Now, look here, yipe!-” he leaps aside, avoiding the crowd of spectators storming down the steps- “I didn’t come along just so you could bully me- arg!” He is knocked into the rail. “Oof- no, excuse you, sir!”

Pablo stomps up, pausing just in front of you, a scowl etched deep on his face. “I hate everything,” he grumbles, wiggling the collar of his jumpsuit.

“Keep up,” you sigh, turning on your heel.

 “Look, I know we’re disguised as performers-” he grabs at the sequined fabric stretched across his rear- “but did you have to steal me a jumpsuit two sizes too small?”

Rolling your eyes, you scamper up the next flight of stairs. “Oh, you look fine,” you bark back. “And it’s all I could find in the basement!”

You don’t have time for this- Pablo’s grumbling.

Din’s first fight could be- stars!- any moment! You have to find him or Cara immediately… which is easier said than done. Thall’s arena is packed- crammed to max capacity. But you know this building like the back of your hand- if Cara is anywhere- if Din is anywhere- it’s Thall’s skybox.

…If they’re still up there.

“Pablo, I- oh!”

“Whoa!” Pablo’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, preventing a nasty tumble down the stairs. “Easy- those heels aren’t exactly made for racing, you know?”

“Dank Ferrik!” you hiss, allowing Pablo to lead you to a nearby chair. You release a heavy sigh. “I’m ashamed of myself.” You glance up at Pablo, a rueful smile on your face. “Heels and dresses were like a second skin to me on Nar Shaddaa, and look at me now, tripping all over myself.”

Stooping down, you adjust the strap on the shoe, allowing for easier movement, and you can’t help but sigh. “I might feel nostalgic if I had the time.”

“Well, speaking of time-” Pablo turns- catches a passerby- “Excuse me, do you know when the first fight starts? Uh, with the Mandalorian?”

The man chuckles and gives Pablo a curious glance. “Son-” he slaps a hand on his shoulder before turning to leave- “why do you think everyone’s yelling?”

You blink.

No…

…

BLASTED STARS! 

You burst up from your chair- flying down the hall- Pablo’s shouts licking at your heels. “Dank FERRIK!” you bark, just before diving into the sea of bodies pressed against a viewing window. You try elbowing through the crowd- but no use. Sinking to the floor instead, you crawl under legs, desperate for even just a peek through the viewing window. 

“Ouch! Get off my- oh!” Your hand slaps across your mask. “Din!” you hiss, eyes blasting open at the sight below. 

Gleaming Beskar- surrounded by pools of blood and corpses… And one colossal, drooling, slashing…

-Rancor. 

“Kriff! KRIFF!” Your screams drown in the sea of spectators. “Damn it, Din! KILL IT!” 

This can’t be happening- this can’t be happening.

You’re too late- you’re too late.

“Just- blasted kill it! JUMP!” You slam both palms of your hands against the glass. “I can’t- OH- WATCH OUT!” 

The Rancor cries, roars against Din’s flamethrower, lashing out with a swing of its claws. Din propels backwards with his jetpack, narrowly avoiding the slice, but he, in turn, loses precious ground to the slobbering beast. The raw stench of burnt flesh wafts through the halls. You slap a hand across your mask, trying to suppress the bubbling bile rising up your throat.

Damn it.  

Damn it!

Your fist crashes into the glass. 

You swear on your life, if your Mandalorian dies because of this- because of you… 

-you will burn this whole damn place to the ground. 

It seems the flames only enraged the creature- saliva and bile raining through its teeth as Din turns- reassess his position. Your heart squeezes- aches- he’s cornered- cornered in. And- 

“Din!”  

He flings into the air- flames cascading down in a golden waterfall, temporarily blinding you. You squeeze an eye open- watching claws and teeth slice through the fire- 

-SLAM-

The floor quivers beneath your knees as the creature smashes its fist straight into the side of the arena’s forcefield. 

“Dank Ferrik!” 

“Holy shit!” 

“Did you see that?”

“Best show in years!” 

You sneer at the jubilancy surrounding you. To hell with this! You’re not going to sit here and watch your Mandalorian turned into monster chow!

You flip around- scrambling on all fours to squeeze beneath the sea of legs. Stumbling up to your feet, you twist your head- frantic to locate Pablo. 

You pause- blink.

“Pablo!”

There he is- down the hall- losing his absolute mind along with the crowd.

“You Nerfherder! Stop cheering!” Slapping a hand on his shoulder, you struggle to pull him away from the viewing window. “He’s going to karkin’ die!” 

“Stars!” he groans, relenting to your hold. “But I just put credits down!” 

“They better be on Din,” you yell over your shoulder, sailing down the closest flight of stairs. “Or I’m never blasted speaking to you again!” 

“That’s not a threat, Sweetheart!” 

“Carbonite man,” you growl under your breath. Well, he had better keep up because you aren’t waiting around, even if it leaves you unprotected. You don’t care. You don’t care.

You’re not even sure how many flights of stairs you’ve flown down- all you know is that with every thunderous cheer, with every whoop of the crowd- Din is one step closer to the end result of the fight…

Whatever it may be…

…Oh stars.

Once you reach the ground-level, your instinct, your memory takes over, leading you with straight towards the secured gate that opens into the arena. You cut around corners- heave past crowds- barrel down to- ah, there!

There! The gates!

“Shit!”

You freeze- legs tangling up at the sudden stop, nearly hurling you to the ground. Your eyes widen, staring through the bars of the gate, eyes glued only on him.

Din.

Smoking blaster- his armored chest heaving-

-and dead Rancor pinned beneath his boots.

He gazes down at the creature as if completely unaware of the wild, raucous applause ripping through the building. Re-holstering his blaster, he flings aside his cape, turns, and drops several feet to the ground. Shoulders rolling back in complete and utter ease, he hooks his fingers in his belt.

You smug bastard. A lop-sided grin stretches across your face. You absolute show off.

You blink, the smile wavering on your lips.

Maker, that stance- he- he’s… dang. Really kriffing sexy.

Kriffing sexy… and alive! You- you can’t believe-

“Din! DIN!”

You grab ahold of the gate, bouncing up and down on your toes. “HELL YEAH!” Throwing your head back, you burst into wild laughter. Maker, you’ve never been so damn proud of a man in all your life!

“That’s my Mandalorian!” you cackle, beaming ear to ear. “Din! Over here- wait! No, wait!”

But it’s too late. There he goes, blasting into the air with that stupid jetpack of his.

“Dank Ferrik!” you growl, pushing back against the gate. “You tin-head! You did that on purpose-” you fling both hands into the air- “to make me keep running after you!”

“HEY!”

“Pablo!” you shout back, turning to race down the corridor.

Panting heavily, he catches up to you with a few long strides. “Corellian hells!-” he reaches out to touch your shoulder- “don’t do that again!”

“Do what?”

“I couldn’t find you,” his voice strains. “I was worried you might jump into the ring- try and choke out the Rancor.”

“I would have-” you spin on your heel, squeezing through a large crowd of Twi’lek and human performers- “if I had a shockstaff.”

“Then you’re never getting a shockstaff.”

“Try and stop me.”

You can only smirk at the string of grumbles that fall from his lips.

“Come on-” you grip his hand- “he should be in one of the private rooms in the back. We can slip in and-”

“Hey, you!”

-you freeze.

An elaborately dressed woman rushes forward, snatches Pablo’s hand from your own. “You should have been in section four thirty minutes ago!” she snarls, tugging at his arm. “We have one final dance rehearsal before the performance!”

“…Dance?”

Pablo’s head whips around- staring, pleading with you for help.

“Sw-sweetheart-”

“NOW.”

All you can do is watch, slipping him a pitiful shrug as he is yanked away to Maker knows where… You snort. You sure hope he’s as talented at dancing as he is spinning tales, or he’s in some serious bantha poodoo…

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

Ah, here we go!

It took longer than anticipated to locate the corridor housing the private suites, but after a bit of frantic searching, you’ve finally located it. Unfortunately, you still have no idea which room Din could be within… Maybe the grand suite? Or the one overlooking the main entrance?

Well, you’ll figure it out, even if you have to knock on every last door to find him.

You have to admit, you can’t wait to see him again…

Stars! A grin bursts across your face, and you struggle to suppress a giggle. You also just can’t believe he did it! Hell yeah!

He killed a Rancor.

…

…for you.

To find you.

Oh Maker… You don’t deserve him.

You clasp both hands together, laughing under your breath. You’re just so… so damn proud. The second you see him, you’re going… to… to…

You freeze- the air squeezes from your lungs.

…

Well.

You…

You found Din Djarin.

Down the hall, entering his room-

…

-with two women hanging off his arms.

You just… stare, blood throbbing in your ears as they disappear from view. The slam of the door shutting behind them rushes down the hall- ramming into your chest like a punch.

Then-

-silence.

You clench your trembling hands into fists, your nails digging, cutting into your palms.

…

Well.

Guess someone’s having a little celebratory fun… What the blazes do you do? Go knock? Interrupt… whatever?

…

No. You know what?

Kark him.

You press both hands against your thighs, flames beginning to tinge along the edge of your vision. Clenching your jaw, you throw back your shoulders, spin around, and march down the hall.

Why- Maker!- what’s wrong with you? Turn around- go bang on his door- get him out of here. That was the plan- stick to it!

But you…. you’re-

-ridiculous.

The fire scorching the edge of your vision is extinguished by a watery flood. You reach up to wipe your eyes with a glittery sleeve, but- kriff!- the mask prevents it.

Maker above! Karking crying? Damn, you’re embarrassed on behalf of yourself! Why do you care so much what he does? Stars! He’s free to do whatever damn thing he wants… the lurdo.

You’ve never even seen his face! How kriffin’ old is the Mandalorian anyway? Stars, he- he probably just sees you as some stupid girl who can’t stay out of trouble without him! Killed a Rancor because he feels sorry for you!

After all, if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Mandalorian since the day he pulled you from the sands of Taek, it’s that he has a penchant for collecting friends, pathetic rescues- pathetic rescues like yourself.

That’s all you are to him.

Your lower lip trembles- whether in furor or dejection, you aren’t certain.

…Kriff him!

You grind your teeth, forcing your lip to still.

Stop. It… doesn’t matter what he does.

Your… your feelings for him aren’t… real. You’ve always known that- acknowledged that. You know you’re susceptible to silly daydreams; you’re desperate for attention- a home- a family…

And Din Djarin gave you all of that.

So, no- this burst of emotion? These karking tears?

You clench your hands into fists.

They mean nothing.

Just… manifestations of your loneliness.

But- but still… you had always thought that… his feelings were real…

…

But they’re not.

Which is… good.

If the Mandalorian had real feelings for you, the moment he learned what you’ve done, who you are... No, you were right to run away the first time, for more reasons than one. You- you have to stick to that plan.

It… is what it is.

…

But damn, do you hate him right now.

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

~I can’t let the way you are influence me~

Shut up, Din.

~You make rash, impulsive, emotional decisions~

Shut up! Maker, just shut up!

~We’re done here~

“Yeah,” you growl aloud, trailing behind the flow of people filtering into the arena’s entertainment hall. “We are done, Din Djarin.”

Your first step into the arena’s entertainment hall is a time machine, spinning you back to a time and place you thought you’d never relive. Yet here you are- in the room from your memories- only this time you’re back to search for your dumbass friend in a sparkly jumpsuit.

Maker!

Your eyes trail upwards, following the natural light. Ah, there’s balconies you’d jump from with the crew! And the- you sniff the air- heavy scent of roasting meat still lingers, hovering in the air. The reverberations of booming laughter and mirth twist, meld together in the air. The echoes rise, just barely kissing the ceiling, before slipping out through the open windows and into the sunlight above.

You can’t help but smile softly.

But reminiscing is not the goal for today.

You’re leaving. Getting the kriff off this planet.

And Pablo has to stay and warn Din for you… if you could just blasted find him! Pablo- stars- the man is impossible! You take him on a field trip, and what does he do? Disappears.

Arg! Where the hell is he? Your eyes sweep the lines of entertainers, the tables of special guests- but no Pablo. Hell, did he elope with a Jawa and leave? This is the perfect chance for him to talk with Din! You swear, if he left you-

You gasp- Cara! And… You clench your teeth, biting back an audible growl. Karkin’ Aric Thall- the lying sack of Hutt excrement. There they are- sitting up on his favorite platform, the best view in the house.

You- you have a good mind to march right up there and- and-

“Where’s the Mandalorian?” Thall rises from his chair, standing at the edge of the platform. “Is he in medical? Surely he’s not snubbing my hospitality!”

The crowd murmurs.

-slam-

You spin around- Din! He’s just… standing in the doorway, both hands pressed against the frame.

A cheeky grin begins to stretch, beam across your face, until… you remember what he was doing the last time you saw him…

“There he is!” Thall chuckles, sitting back in his seat. “Come.”

Din remains motionless, silent- and the air thins, as if one wrong move could shatter it into a thousand gleaming shards.

“Uh oh,” you groan, wrapping both arms tightly around your body. You know the Mandalorian- he’s pissed.

In the flick of an eye- he’s moving, sweeping forward through the room- paving a direct path for Thall.

“Stars!” you hiss, moving forward on his mark.

You can’t hear a word of their conversation- but Din is none too happy. If you had to wager a guess… um, well, Din’s probably not amused by the Rancor addition to the fight.

Something tells you that wasn’t part of their original agreement…

Standing as close to them as you can without raising suspicion, you turn up the dials on your mask, amplifying the sound.

“Come on-” Thall’s voice cuts through your mask- “a true Mandalorian can handle any little surprise thrown at them.”

“A Rancor is a little surprise?” Cara butts in.

“Yes!” Thall laughs, swinging his arm to the side. “Surprise, it’s a Rancor! It’s good for business.”

Din tilts his head to the side. “No more surprises.” His voice is low- so low you almost can’t hear him even with the dial turned up.

“Understood?”

Thall just laughs. “Come on! My reputation is built around surprises!” Lacing his fingers together, he throws a leg up and over the arm of his chair. “You handled it like a Mandalorian ought to have. So, what’s the problem?”

“We had conditions,” the Mandalorian growls, taking a step forward. “See that you stick to them.”

Thall’s eyes widen in mock concern. “I have, haven’t I?” He glances at his guards before turning back to the Mandalorian. “You had a fight. You won the fight. So, you win the next fight, and you learn how to locate our... friend.”

Our friend?

Hell no. I think not.

It takes all of your resolve to keep from marching forward, ripping your mask off, and revealing what a blasted liar Thall is.

“You never explained, Mando,” asks Thall. “I hope you don’t seek her for a bounty. As many headaches as both she and Valen caused me, I do still have fondness for her.”

Ha.

Liar.

More like fondness for the cash you drew in.

The Mandalorian is silent, still, then steps forward-

“My reasons are my own.”

“Well,” Thall sighs. “It must be important to go to all this trouble.” He slaps his hands on the arms of his chair, leaning forward. “Who hired you? What did she do? Tell me- I am dying to know.”

Silence.

“Ah! So unnecessarily dramatic,” Thall grumbles, flopping back in his seat. “Fine! We’ll change topics!” The tips of his fingers bounce rapidly against his leg. “Sooo.... we’re excited to have a Mandalorian visiting here again! It’s been a while, am I right?”  Thall’s voice booms at the last few words, seizing the crowd’s attention. In a mixture between slurred cheers and boos, the crowd erupts, encouraging Thall to continue.

“I know!” Thall springs from his seat, staring down at the Mandalorian. “Why don’t we switch things up here, and you entertain us!”

Cara’s laugh is a bark. “Killing a rancor wasn’t entertainment enough?”

“Oh!” Thall chuckles, shooting his guards a knowing look. “I know! How about blade throwing? Or sharpshooting? Mandalorians are supposed to be good at that, right?”

The Mandalorian keeps his voice even, but his irritation is not veiled.

“I’m not interested in your games, Thall.”

Of course, Thall pretends he didn’t hear that. The man always was-

“Oh! Yes! Yes, yes!” Thall’s words burst through your thoughts. “I have an even better idea!”

Kark, what now?

You watch, anger only rising in your chest. Thall sweeps his eyes across the room, across the sea of faces-

-stops.

…

You.

Oh… Force.

He’s staring at you.

No.

Oh no.

"Put the dancer against the wall.”

…

Oh, FORCE.

A hand clasps your arm, and you instinctively resist- yanking against the hold. “What?” you hiss. “Wait!”

The guard lugs you forward, pulling a squeak from your lips. Oh stars! What do you do? What’s happening what’s do you do oh stars, stars, stars!

“Move. Now.”

You hiss. His claws dig, cut through your sleeve, into your flesh.

You… you have to stay calm.

You… can’t blow your cover. Stay calm.

…Oh stars.

With one final thrust, you are heaved forward, and you hit the wall with an audible oof through your mask’s vocoder. Sucking in air through your teeth, you fling around, pressing your body flush against the wall, the roughness scraping your exposed back and legs.

You blink.

Din.

He’s just… staring at you.

Unreadable as always.

Blast! Panic nips at your heart. Does he recognize you? Seven Corellian hells! Do you reveal yourself- risk a fight breaking out? Oh kark, your plan was to sneak out. Arg! What do you do?

You clench your hands into fists, resisting the urge to groan.

Hell. The things you get mixed up in…

Wrapping your anxiety up with a bandage of confidence, you lift your chin, awaiting Thall’s next move.

The Mandalorian breaks from his trance.

“What are you doing?” He dips his head back to Thall.

He flashes the Mandalorian that old familiar, no-good grin…

Oh dear.

“You’re going to show us your blade throwing precision skills-” Thall motions a guard, carrying a set of blades, forward- “with a live target.”

....

Live-

OH FORCE.

“If Mandalorians are as good as the legends say, she’ll be just fine.” Thall has the audacity to wink at you. “Or if you inadvertently kill her, well-” he waves a hand- “I have plenty more.”

…

The Mandalorian does not move- does not speak. His blank, lifeless visor is focused only on you.

And you only on him.

“Well?”

…

He shifts- glares at Thall.

“No.”

“Fine…” Thall purrs. He glances over at his guards- raises a hand at them.

…

“Then kill her.”

…

Kill? …Wait-

DANK FERRIK.

“OOF!” You are flung against the wall, a hand pressing, locking you in place. “No, no, stop-”

You freeze- eyes blasting open-

A man-

Blade extended-

Stepping forward-

-BLAST-

-BLAST-

Burnt flesh pierces your nostrils.

“Bloody seven hells!” you warble through the modulator, gawking down at the lifeless body mere inches from your feet- the second body also much too close for comfort. Your head shoots up, your eyes widening.

The Mandalorian is facing you- smoking blaster in hand.

“Yay!” Thall’s voice pierces the tension, his claps echoing throughout the silent room. “Excitement already!”

This is the flick that switches the crowd- their shouts and cries swirling together to birth utter chaos.

The guard steps up to the Mandalorian, offering him the blades. He stares down at them- to you- to Thall.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Thall purrs.

You groan. Holy Maker, you knew you should have sent 4PO in your place…

Squeezing both eyes shut, you swallow back your dread. Dank Ferrik, how the hell do things always go so blasted wrong? Should you reveal yourself? Ah, no, no, then a firefight would break out- he- Din- could be killed- or you- or-

“Don’t move.”

Your eyes blast open.

The Mandalorian- he’s… leaning over you- so close you can feel his warm, protective aura wrap around you like a cloak.

“Understood?” He shifts closer, his voice all but a rasp. “Don’t move.”

Well, damn it if you won’t obey him, but all you can muster is a pitiful nod in response.

He returns the nod, turns to leave-

“I trust you.”

He freezes at your words- turns to stare at you. His dark visor bores into your mask, as if he could sear straight through to metal- past all the wiring- and see only you.

But then he’s storming away again, palming a blade in his gloved hand.

You press your head back. Uh, wait- is this really happening? Kark! Well, you suppose you were going to get yourself killed eventually… Might as well be at the hands of a friend, right?

Right…

He stands at a distance- angles his head to the side, the blade firm in his grip.

Silence.

He pulls back-

Your eyes widen. Holy k-

-Slam-

You turn your face ever so slightly to the right, the ice-cold metal of the blade jutting from the wall a chill against your skin.

Your mouth drops.

Did… did he mean to get that close?

His voice hisses in your mind.

“Don’t move.”

-Slam-

Two.

-Slam-

Three.

-Slam-

Four.

You flinch with every landing, eyes squeezed as tightly closed as physically possible. Stars! How many more-

-Slam-

You hiss, and crack an eye open, glancing down at the blood pooling, dripping from your right hand. You moan, and tuck the hand behind your back, hoping no one noticed the graze.

The crowd bursts into cheers, the tension and silence eradicated by the Mandalorian’s final blade toss.

“She lives!” Thall’s voice cuts through the ruckus. “I get to keep my dancer!”

Flopping your head back against the wall, all you can do is groan. “Dank Ferrik,” you warble, pressing your left hand against your chest.

Hell, first he stabs your heart, then he slices your hand. If you weren’t about to run away again, you’d stay and kill Din Djarin.

A flick of movement draws your eyes forward. There- the Mandalorian- Din- he’s making a path straight for you, seemingly blind to the room, the chaos surrounding him.

You blink and watch him approach. You know it’s tempting fate, but… you can’t resist.

“Not bad,” your modulated voice mumbles. “Could use a little improvement.”

Din pauses just before you and leans his head forward.

“You’re not dead, are you?”

Your smirk is hidden behind the mask. “No-” your hand grips the handle of a blade, and with a tug, you yank it from the wall- “I’m alive for now.” You stretch your hand forward, offering him the weapon.

Silence.

You think he’s grabbing for the weapon, but he grabs your right hand. He stares down at his glove, your blood black against the leather.

“L-like I said,” you stutter, biting your lip- “uh, you could use a little improvement.”

 His visor is glued to your hand, to your blood. Then, his head trails up… to your masked face- along your sleeved arms- down your torso-

Oh kark.

You rip your hand away, stumbling off to the side.

You don’t say a word- you just run.

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

Step- step- swing to the left.

Twist- twist- spin.

Left- left- shake your body.

Thrust- thrust- pose.

Stars, thank the Maker Thall’s dancers are performing to standard Nar Shaddaa choreography. The last thing you need is to stand out even kriffing more than you already do… You know this dance, this song like the back of your hand.

You follow along with the line of dancers, your muscle memory taking over as the lights dim further- dipping the room into a neon glow. The bass throbs in your head, preventing you from doing any coherent thinking. So, you flip into autopilot- taking this opportunity to glance out at the crowds for a sign of blasted Pablo.

You gaze out- (spin, spin, to the left)- eyes sweeping across the neon faces- (thrust, thrust, kick your leg)- but it’s no use- (swing, swing, release the pole)- there’s just too many karkin’ faces!

As much as you enjoy dancing, this is a waste of time- (kick, kick, spin around).

You scowl out at the crowd, and your breathing stops.

Din.

Leaning up against the wall, both arms crossed, his visor is trained- unmistakably trained- on you.

Stars!

How long has he been watching you? Or rather… why is he watching you?

You twist your head back and forth with the music- catching Din out the corner of your eye a second time.

-Still staring.

Maker!

You rip your eyes away, your heart fluttering in your chest. Oh hells, now you wish you had never noticed his attention- you can barely remember the choreography much less focus on trying to find Pablo in the crowd.

You hiss, fumbling with your rhythm.

Blast him- the Mandalorian’s ruining your performance.

You grit your teeth, seething. Doesn’t he have his own entertainment to get back to in his quarters? You might would be flattered by the attention… if he knew it was you. But he can’t possibly know it’s you. He… he thinks you’re… someone else.

You can’t help but growl.

Kark him!

Not that you’re jealous…

Right…?

…

Kark him.

…

Ah! There!

Your eyes catch a flash of white light- a door opening and closing just to the side of the room. This is your best opportunity. You slip from the performance, fleeing through the door and down the side corridor.

Thankfully, the crowds are thinning out now, which should make the building easier to navigate- easier to locate your sequined companion. You continue running down the corridor, keeping an eye open for any good hiding spot.

“Pablo!” you hiss, ducking your head into an open storage room door. “You there?” You swear, if he’s been hiding this entire time- you’re going to kick his- YIKES!

A steely grip pulls, yanks you away from the door and straight down the hall.

“W-wait!” you squeak, stumbling over your own feet.

Your eyes shoot up-

Din.

…

Oh…. shit.

His glove is locked around your left wrist, dragging you behind him as he stalks down the hall. Stumbling against his pull, you squeak again, but he does not slow his pace.

“Wh-what are- urg!”

You nearly crash into his back at his sudden stop. The door to his quarters flies open, and he pushes you forward. You stumble into the edge of the bed- collapsing onto it with an oof.

Then the door slams shut behind you.

…

Footsteps.

…

Oh kriff.

You spin around to face him. “I- I can-”

The mask rips from your face-

…

…

His chest heaves.

His visor- frozen- on your eyes.

Oh…

…

Oh stars.

You stand- hands raised.

“D-Din… I- I ju-”

He grabs your wrist-

-yanks you forward-

-his arms crashing you against his chest.

…

Safe.

…

You’re safe.

…

“Dank Ferrik,” you groan, burying your face in the fabric just beside his pauldron.

His arms tighten at your voice, squeezing you even closer into him.

“You left.”

His voice is rough, strained.

You shove on his arm. “Technically,” you mumble, face buried in fabric, “you left me first.” Peeling away from his armor, you glance up at him.

His helmet dips down, visor trained on your eyes- your face. His arms relax, dropping to the curve of your lower back.

“But at least I had a good reason-” you pout your lips in playful contempt and jab a hand into his side- “unlike you… uh-”

You tense.

The cool of leather brushes down the side of your cheek- curves around your jaw. It stops- pausing just beneath your chin-

-and lifts.

“I-It’s good, um-” you force a grin- “to… see you, Din.”

Leather dusts your ear.

“Ka’r’ika…”

…

Damn, damn it.

That’s it-

You’re done for.

“I- uh- I…” you fumble, flicking your eyes to the floor.

Oh, Dank Ferrik.

You reach up, gripping his wrist. “Come now, Din.” Pushing his arm away, you take a step back- space to think. “Don’t get all… uh, sentimental on me.” Your forced smile tightens. “We- we can talk about things later, once we’re out of here.”

He, too, steps back, and dips his head at you.

“Talk.”

Crossing your arms, you can’t help but snort at his brevity. “Well, I came to save your rusted ass, Mando… Thall is a creep. He lied about knowing how to find me so he could con you into fighting.” Rubbing your temple, you can only sigh.

“Trust me, all he wants your Beskar.” You throw out a hand- smacking it against Din’s armor. “You flashy show off.”

Oh-

He’s caught your hand, holding it against his armored chest. His hand is warm, firm above your own.

And he isn’t letting go.

“We… need to leave,” you whisper, tugging against his grip.

He frees your hand- angles his head to the side.

…

“Come.”

His voice is soft, gentle.

…

“I’m taking you home.”

…

Oh.

“S-sure-” you clear your throat, eyes flicking away from him- “I just need that mask… wherever it flew, aha...”

Swooping to the side, you reach down, scooping the abandoned vocoder up off the floor.

“Hells,” you grumble, snapping it into place. “Um, hey, we’re twinning, Mando!”

Hooking his fingers in his belt, he just flops his head to the side.

Grinning ear to ear, you pull the mask away to shoot him a pointed look. “Tell me,” you ask, “how’d you know it was me?”

“Who else but you-” he takes a lumbering step forward- “would say she trusts me to throw a blade at her head?”

He has the audacity to reach up and tap your nose.

“Din Djarin!” Crinkling your nose, you take a swat at his hand. “I didn’t exactly-” you stick your tongue out- “have a choice.”

…

-a stab in your chest…a thought.

It’s petty, but…

“Oh, but I bet one of your companions-” you lower your brows at him, resentment resurfacing on your tongue- “from earlier would have also trusted you.”

…

“…You saw that?”

He stills- fingers flexing by his side.

“They… were in a bad situation,” he mumbles, barely audible through his vocoder. “…From which I helped them escape.”

…

“Oh.”

…

“So… you weren’t-”

“No.”

“…Oh.”

You blink.

“Not that I kriffing care what you kriffing do, Din Djarin.”

He just… stares.

Maker.

You want to die.

You just… awkwardly glance around.

 …

“I… recognized the scar on your hand.” His voice is quiet, hesitant. “Kept an eye on you since.”

“Oh. Kark, of course.” Stretching your fingers, you glance down at your hand. “Mmf, got this my first week on Nar Shaddaa- a homecoming gift, I suppose.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you grimace at the scar.

“When we first arrived on-world, the lower level was the only place we could find work.” You flop your head back, groaning at the memory.

“And, just my luck, my first employer was raided my fifth night there. Out of nowhere.” Rubbing your temple, you release a heavy sigh. “Those were… hard days. But- stars- I… I schemed, I plotted, I learned the game as fast as I could.”

…At a price.

The bed dips down beside you, ripping you from your thoughts. You turn, meeting the Mandalorian’s neutral stare.

“…And I made it-” a smirk twitches at the corner of your lips- “I clawed my way into the city skylines, upper-level opulence.”

He chuckles.

“Well now…”

Leather brushes against your neck.

“That’s my girl.”

…

Oh Maker.

…You hate he saw how you grinned at that.

“Here-” his glove drops, motioning for your right hand- “that cut needs to be cleaned.”

“Making fun of my doctoring?”

He grunts, focused only on inspecting the wound.

You roll your eyes. “I just went and-”

Oh.

He’s… tugged his glove off- tossed it aside.

“Here.”

His hand- his human hand- his tan, big, warm human hand- oh stars, oh stars- reaches for yours-

Blast it- stop.

It’s a damn hand, for Maker’s sake!

“Are you hurt elsewhere?” he snaps, oblivious to the turmoil his kriffing hand is inflicting at the moment. He dabs a wipe across the wound. “Have you been eating?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you chirp. “Fried up a womprat leg in the desert for lunch.”

 …

“I’m kidding, Din.”

He blows a puff of air through the vocoder, and you can only grin.

Stars, he’s just too much fun to mess with…

“Blast! I told you- nhg- that you needed a little- ah- improvement-” you cringe, forcing your eyes away from the wound.

He makes a noise- continues his task.

“I might be the better blade thrower,” you snort, continuing to ramble. “But, damn, you killed a whole ass Rancor!”

“Well-” he shoots a quick glance up- “I couldn’t kill just half its ass.”

…

He has a point.

“I know! You should teach me Rancor fighting!”

“No.”

“Please? I want to try taming one- ride it through town.”

You hiss- he’s pressed a bactapatch against your flesh.

“That’s beyond my paygrade, Ka’r’ika. I’ve only ever killed one. Taming-” he looks up at you, tilts his head to the side- “…taming is substantially more difficult.”

“Are you talking about me now?” you tease, crinkling your nose at him.

“Your words-” he quips, his tone deepening- “not mine.”

You chuckle, your lop-sided grin only growing.

Blast it.

You’ve… missed this… missed him.

“Well, anyway” you huff, shoving against his shoulder with your free hand. “I still think you’re a banthabrain for even considering Thall’s deal.”

Silence.

One, two, three short tugs, and he’s finished wrapping your injured hand.

“…I’d fight a second Rancor-”

His visor lifts.

“…If it meant finding you.”

…

You blink.

Oh.

Watching as naked skin disappears within the sanctuary of his glove, a… thought occurs.

“Well,” you mumble and stand, flicking your eyes north to his helm.

Oh, hell.

Just do it.

You whirl around, positioning between his legs. He jolts back- startled- as you slap both hands atop his pauldrons.

“…You found me.”

You lean forward- plant a sharp kiss against his visor.

A catch, a hitch in his breath-

-and he leaps to his feet, spinning you aside.

“We… we need to go,” he rumbles, stalking straight for the door. He stops beside it, fumbling with his belt.

“Fine,” you sigh, snapping your vocoder mask back into place. You saunter to stand beside Din, who’s still fiddling with something on his belt.

Throwing both hands on your waist, you jut out a hip.

“Well, you ready, Mando?”

The door snaps open.

And then he’s gone- ducks right out the door, cape swooping around at his heels.

You can’t help but chuckle under your breath.

Okay, so maybe you’ll never tame a Rancor in your lifetime…

…but you think you just tamed your very first Mandalorian.

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

“Just keep an eye out for lime green sequins.”

At your words, Din angles his head back at you, his silence speaking a thousand words.

“No, we shouldn’t leave Pablo.” You shake your head, glancing down each hallway you pass. “I think he has abandonment issues.”

Din just sighs, resting a hand behind your back to push you forward.

“I’ll tell Cara where to meet us.” The Mandalorian’s voice is all business. “And Pablo- we’ll… find him.”

“Don’t sound so depressed.” You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “He’s starting to grow on me.”

Din makes a noise- then pulls you close.

“Stay with me,” he rumbles. “Don’t say a word.”

“Lips? Zipped.”

He glares at you- and you can only smirk.

Ah, ahead!

The entrance to the entertainment hall…

Upon re-entering, it’s pretty much exactly how you left it- loud and chaotic. As you blink up at the flashing lights, you feel a tug on your arm.

“Keep up.”

The Mandalorian’s voice is hard, a warning.

“I told you that you can’t use that voice on me,” you hiss under your breath. “I’m not afraid of you.” You shove a hand into his back as if to prove your point.

“Aye!” you growl. “Din!”

“Quiet.”

“Don’t pinch me.”

“Quit being a brat.”

Thank the Maker you wear a mask- you’d hate to give Din the satisfaction of your stupid grin.

“Din,” you whisper, tugging on his arm. “Maybe we coul- OH!”

-an eruption, a burst of curses and shouts and chaos.

Your eyes blast open-

“Pablo!”

There he is- arms pinned behind his back as a group of performers trail behind him. There’s… blood dripping off the side of his face-

-and he looks pissed.

“Sir!” one of the guards shouts.

Thall just sighs. “Oh, what is going on? Interrupting my party…”

“An intruder. This man was pretending to be a performer, and he refuses to explain himself.”

“This man is lyin- oh OUCH.” Pablo’s head jerks to the side. “Was that necessary?”

“Ack,” Thall huffs, waving his hand aside. “I don’t care. I don’t care who he is. It isn’t important.”

“Thank you-”

“Just kill him.”

“Wa-wait WHAT?”

You slap a hand across your mouth, but before you can react- Din is blazing past you- straight for the crowd.

“Din!” you hiss, panic welling up in your throat.

Oh stars-

“Stop.”

The Mandalorian’s voice commands the room.

“Yes, stop!” Pablo laughs at Din’s appearance. “Maker, man, I’ve never been so-”

“He’s with me.”

Thall just… leans forward.

“Is there-” his voice is hard, cool- “a reason you have a spy in my midst, Mandalorian?”

Oh… kriff.

You begin pushing forward.

“He’s a friend,” Cara’s voice interjects. “Not a spy.”

“Were we-” Thall chuckles- “plotting something behind my back?”

The room freezes- stills-

-ready to shatter.

Thall- kark!

He’s been waiting for a reason to do this!

…

He’s- he’s going to kill Din for his Beskar.

Thall just… smiles.

…

“Kill them.”

The room erupts-

Bodies racing- blasters flying- shrieks-

Everyone is either fleeing-

-or joining in on a fight.

You scream, ducking behind a table to avoid a flying chair. “Kark!” You reach down, lugging your heels at a passing guard.

“You bunch of creeps!”

But your voice drowns in the ocean of pandemonium.

“Blast it, oof!” you growl, racing past several men wrestling each other. “You’re all idiots!”

Shit, shit!

You- you can’t see any of them!

“DIN?- get back, you- MOVE!”

You shove past a stampede of screaming dancers, spying-

-Aric Thall.

You bare your teeth.

You look to Thall- look to the wall.

An idea.

“Oh, just kill them,” Thall yells, stepping back behind his wall of guards. “Just blas-”

-SLAM-

A collective gasp-

The room crumples into silence.

…

You stand firm atop a table, pointing a second blade at Thall.

“ARIC THALL!”

You reach up- rip the mask from your face- smash it to the floor.

“Fuck you!”

Not the best choice of words, perhaps…

Thall just stares at you.

“Uh…” He casually glances at the blade jutting from the wall… mere inches from his head. “Do I know you?”

Karkin’ hells, you’ve got to be kidding…

You shout your name, rage bleeding through your words.

“Oh, Maker help us! It’s you!” Thall gasps, clutching his temples. “I should have known I had a headache for a reason-”

“I’m going to give you more than just a headache-” you jab the blade forward- “you greasy furball!”

“Ack!” Thall flops dramatically back in his chair. “If you were anyone else, I’d have you blasted for that.”

“You liar!” you shout. “You lied about finding me-”

You pause.

-a voice.

-your name.

Your eyes trail downwards.

Din’s pressed up against your table, inches from your feet, his hands held out for you.

“Ka’r’ika, come down-”

…

You turn- reject him.

You… you know what you’re doing.

…

Din has to trust you now.

“You know, I’m truly sorry our reunion had to be this way,” Thall laughs, flopping back in his seat. “Look at you, all big and grown and bossy. And violent. Valen must be proud.”

Your resolve wavers at his name.

“How is Gramps?”

“None of your concern.”

“Oh, so he’s dead.”

“I’m not here about him,” you growl, throwing your hand to the side. “You lied to the Mandalorian about the conditions of your agreement.” You clench your teeth, forcing an authoritative persona. “You had no information on me. Therefore, the agreement is void, and we will be going now. Thank you, and goodbye.”

“Ack, now, I didn’t lie,” Thall replies. “I just… mistook another for you! My eyes are really getting bad.”

“You need glasses, sir.”

“I know!”

“Uhg,” you groan. “Thall, you’ve not blasted changed a bit.”

“You neither!” he chirps. “And you aren’t going anywhere, isn’t that great?”

Furor threatening to boil over, you rush forward, stopping just at the edge of the table.

“You OWE me!” Your voice strains. “You were nothing but a flea-bitten scrap pile to the Hutts until I-” you jab a thumb at your chest- “came around- until I convinced my friends to give you the time of day- race under your banner.”  

“You over-estimate your influence, I think.”

Then he- he laughs at you.

Red flashes, pulses in your eyes.

You- you want- you’re going to-

“Mandalorian.”

Thall crosses his legs, smiles at Din- now standing just behind you on the table.

“You can try and leave, but you-” he throws his hands up; makes a face- “will not make it out alive. Sorry!”

Oh-

That’s karking it-

You start forward. “Thall, I’m going to break-”

“Don’t hurt her.”

The Mandalorian yanks you back- pushes you behind him.

“…Our deal is still on.”

…

“I will fight.”

“Din!” you growl, grasping onto his cloak. “No- you stupid metal-”

“Hurt her-” he steps forward, pushing you back- “…and you’ll beg for me to kill you.”

Thall huffs.

“I don’t kindly to threats, Mando…”

Your eyes catch movement- Din’s hand… hovering above his blaster-

Kriff… No!

You lunge forward-

“A RACE!”

…

Thall tilts his head at you.

“Uh…Care to explain?”

You… you have to do this.

Din…

You can’t let him fight.

“Credits- you’ll have all the credits you can imagine, Thall.” You force your voice to steady, neutralize your waver. “You can advertise it as a big comeback of a… a legend that disappeared. Think- think of the gambling, the ticket sales…”

“Ka’r’ika-”

“I’ll race again, you slimy piece of filth.” You leap down from the table- the clomp of Din’s boots stomping just behind you. You pause beneath Thall’s platform. “And then we’ll go free… unharmed.”

…

“I used to make you a lot of money, Thall.”

“You certainly did…” Thall purrs. “And… an event such as this… would be worth much more to me than… a simple fight…”

“We had a deal.”

Din storms forward- the guards shoving him back.

“Din!” you hiss, shaking your head at him.

“This is more desirable to me, I’m afraid, Mandalorian.” Thall grins. “But on one condition-”

“Here we go,” Cara growls, stepping up beside Din.

“If you win, you all go free. But if you lose-”

Thall throws a leg up and over the arm of his chair.

“You’ll stay and race under my banner… for an entire year.”

…

Oh, hell…

“Ka’r’ika-” a hand wraps around your arm- “let me figh-”

“Deal.”

You lift your chin.

“We have a deal.”

“Ah, excellent! Just like old times!” Thall cheers, claps his hands. “She really cut you a good arrangement, Mando. We were just going to throw you in the Sarlacc for your next fight!”

“Thall,” you snarl. “You blob of-”

“-But you spared him!”

A harsh grip spins you around.

“What are you doing?”

Din’s voice is low- measured.

“Saving your ass.”

His hands just… drop to his side.

“Don’t worry so much, Din. Besides-” you force a grin- “If I lose, the hunters will be on me within a week… so there’s absolutely no risk of me having to stay a year!”

…

“Damn it…”

The curse slips beneath his helm.

“Hey-” you reach out- jab his arm- “you’ve not seen me at full capacity yet.”

The Mandalorian shifts… touches your face.

“I’m the damn best-” you lean into his touch- “remember?”

-a puff of air through his vocoder.

…

“Trust in me, Din. For once, trust in me.”

…

The cool of Beskar kisses your brow.

“...I always have.”

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

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

taglist: (in the reblog)

a/n: Thank you SO MUCH for your patience.

My dudes, I’ve spent an EMBARRASSING amount of time on this chapter. I wrote and rewrote chapter 9 more than any other previous chapter. I just wanted it to be perfect- and between health and personal issues- I’m very proud that I was able to pull this chapter together in a way that exceeded my expectations!

Your beautiful comments kept me going! And, trust me, I savor every last one! I recognize regulars, and I think about the things you’ve commented while writing. They even inform how I write at times! (To the commenter who said they looove when Din hooks his fingers in his belt, I hope I checked that checkbox for you in chapter 9 lollll.)

Chapter 10 will pick up right where we left off here- but the second half of chapter 10 will be much different than the first half- and that’s all I’m saying…. Actually, I will go ahead and say we will be getting a LOT of angst and straightforward answers to Ka’r’ika’s/Reader’s past in chapter 10…

Also, I thought I would share a link to the FANTASTIC fanart a reader of In Fields of White @styxxus​ drew! It’s AMAZING! (Click here- Note that the images my look a bit squished on desktop. Just ‘right click’ the image and select ‘open in new tab’ to see the full artwork.) If you happen to create anything based off this fic, I’d LOVE to see it! Just head on over to my personal tumblr page! :)

Next, I am shamelessly plugging my new series, Auriga Hills, a Narcos fanfiction. The summary is as follows:

Javier Peña- brash, arrogant, a real jerk.

And now he’s your damn husband.

Allured by the prospect of mischief and money, you consent to marry Javier Peña to assist him in his undercover mission for justice. You’re only in it for the fun, nothing more, nothing less. But traveling together in close quarters on a train bound for the West Coast comes with some unexpected ramifications- you’re actually beginning to like the damn idiot.

(A 1930’s Enemies to Lovers AU)

[justasimptm]

The Bride C8

“Y/N!” My mother hollars, the door behind me barely shut before her voice rings out through the castle, announcing her presence just before I see her head crest the railing. “Come to the study,” She beckons, turning and vanishing from sight. A heavy weight creeps into my stomach, anxiety pitching up monumentally. Knowing better than to hesitate, I’m quick to hurry up the stairs, being careful not to catch my feet on the hem of my dress as I go. When I get to the office, she’s standing by the window, gazing out at the gardens where the maids take their breaks. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge me, even as I close the heavy oak door. I go to speak, but she ends up breaking the silence. “What did Mother Miranda want with you?”

Her voice is cool, strong, hiding any real traces of emotions, as if she knows and is expecting me to lie, but still she keeps her eyes fixed on something outside. I fiddle anxiously with the ties on my shawl as I reply, trying desperately to keep my voice stable and light.

“She requested me to accompany Lord Heisenberg in escorting the newest group of townsfolk to the church. She wanted to know if I had a connection with any of them.” I explain, pausing to see what she will say, or do in reaction to that information. She hums deeply as if she’s thinking, motioning me over to her side with a sharp wave of her hand. As soon as I fall in line next to her, her head snaps towards mine, so suddenly I jump. She stares so firmly that I’m essentially pinned by the force of it.

“And?” She jabs, leaving me floundering for what more I could tell her. That’s all she wanted, right? I can’t think of anything else she said. I must gape a moment longer than she would like because she whirls back to the window, slamming a hand on the glass. “If that was truly everything, why is that disgusting man still at my home?” She hisses, nails scraping on the window sharply making me wince. I peek around her form, surprised to see him pacing along the gates, very obviously looking up at the house, scanning it. “Go out there, this instant and tell him I want him gone. Keep in mind, daughter, I will be watching you. Both of you.”

The ice in her voice sets itself deep in my gut. I’ve heard her speak like that, to my father before he died, to the butler she fired. These interactions have put me on the other side of the firing range, and every gun is fixed directly at me. One wrong move, and boom. She will explode. I square my shoulders, nodding at her wordlessly and sweeping back out the room, forcing the tremors starting in my hands to go still as I make my way to the door leading outside. I all but storm up to the gate, tugging one of my knives out from the slip of my dress. I grip the handle tight, willing it to give me strength to pass her test as I come to a halt in front of the harbinger of my looming doom. One of his hands reaches up to grip at the bars separating us, I hear them starting to screech in protest as he begins warping them so I quickly slash upwards, letting the tip of my blade slip along his knuckles. Not hard enough to cause damage but enough to make him let go with a surprised yelp.

“You need to leave, right now. My mother is not happy you are here and you are putting me in a bad position.” I hiss, pointing my knife in his direction, drenching my words in urgency, hoping he’ll understand and finally listen. His lips dip down into a frown as he stares up at the many windows adorning my home, as if he’s trying to pinpoint exactly which one she’s watching from.

“Listen, Mother Miranda told me to make sure you were safe-” He starts but I cut him off loudly, knowing my mother will be able to hear.

“I do not need your pitiful protection, Lord Heisenberg. Trust me when I say this, the day I need protection from a man is the day I would sooner die.” I pray the air was still enough to carry my ringing voice. The look on his face stings me, part of me regretting it. I point my knife at him once more, lowering my voice ever so slightly. “Please. I need you to go.” I allow hints of my fear to trickle into my tone, enough to hint at what’s happening and enough to hopefully highlight the urgency of his departure, before slipping the knife back into its sheath and stepping back from the gate. “You’re only welcome here when directly invited. Until then, make yourself scarce. Or there will be consequences.”

He huffs slightly, nodding at me and tipping his hat down to cover his eyes. He doesn’t say anything back, choosing instead to step away from the gate and pace backwards a few feet. A flame of relief roars through me as he turns and starts back down the hill, whistling some stupid tune as he goes, seemingly unaffected by my threats. Without pausing I, myself, turn around and quickly rush back inside. I make it a few paces through the doorway when I hear my sisters giggling from down the hall. Out of the corner of my eye I can see them staring at me, waiting to see if I’ll fully look at them. When they realize I don’t plan to, Bela calls out to me. I huff impatiently when I stop, tapping the toe of my shoe as I wait for them to approach me.

“Looks like you have an admirer,” Cassandra laughs, twirling a lock of her brown hair through her fingers.

“It’s pathetic really,” Bela continues, crossing her arms and sizing me up, as if she’s trying to figure out why he’s paying me any attention. Daniela starts circling me, flipping up the back of my shawl and tugs slightly on my long hair. I stifle the yelp that started up my throat at the sudden sharp pricks.

“Who helped you finish getting ready this morning, big sister?” She drawls, pausing in front of me with a dangerous smirk on her face. “If I remember correctly, your corset hadn’t been fully fastened and you were struggling to get that pretty little pin to stay in place. I wonder who helped you fix it.” I bite the inside of my cheeks, praying that she’ll stop her insinuations before our mother hears. “You were gone an awfully long time, you know. Mother was worried. I had to assure her you were alright. Fairly the walk shouldn’t have taken that much time, even with the pack of humans, but I’m sure you had other things on your mind.”

Every fiber of my being wants to scream, wants to pull her tongue out of her fucking throat, but I don’t. I can’t. I have to stand there, I have to let her talk, let them talk as much as they want, because although I hate to admit it, they have the power in this situation. If even a whisper of this was heard by my mother she would be furious. Especially at the way Daniela insinuates it. She has always had a talent for fictionalizing things, for making leaps that, to most, would seem foolish. But to us? To my mother, who hates the idea of us even being seen by men? Stories are good fuel for that fire, and Daniela is holding the match.

Clearly seeing the defeat weighing on my shoulders they draw back, laughing some more before swarming and going off to some unknown corner of the castle, likely to torment another servant. At this point I want nothing more than to slump down against the wall, but instead I tighten my shoulders, before gliding up the staircase back down the hall. I pause in front of the study, looking in and nodding at my mother before continuing down towards my bedroom. Once inside I quickly throw the lock over the door and standing stock still.

For a few moments I hardly breathe, half expecting one of them to barge down the hall and burst my door open. I barely get a glimpse of myself in the mirror of my vanity but it sends a harsh shock through my system sending my gears flying. Within moment’s I’m tearing the pin from my hair, ripping the corset off my body and nearly shredding my dress in the process. My daggers clatter to the floor noisily but even that doesn’t slow my motions. I storm over to my wardrobe, slamming the door open with such force the entire thing wobbles dangerously. I snatch all my dresses down from the hangers, dropping them into a pile on the floor. I drop down next to the pile, leaning over and yanking one of the daggers from its sheath and sitting back on my heels. With no plan whatsoever I tug one of the corsets into my lap, turning it inside out and use the tip of the knife to tear at the seam, ripping it open section by section and forcing the metal out from its bindings.

I have no idea how long I do this for, but by the time I finish I have a pile of scraps and a heap of fabric, my fingertips are red and faintly bloody, small pricks from when the knife caught my skin when I got careless. My breathing is heavy and my face is hot as I collapse backwards, leaning my weight against the wall. A small part of my brain worries mother will be upset when she sees what I did to my dresses, but another part rejoices at the rebellion. In the end it’s a relatively easy fix, we have many girls in the castle who are proficient in sewing and could easily repair any damages I caused. Odds are I’ll call one of them up before she sees, ask them to be discreet and find some other boning, probably make up a story about the metal causing too much discomfort.

Finally I find myself being able to breathe easier, less constricted, and I allow my eyes to close for a few moments, enjoying the stillness of my room, the calm chaos I caused surrounding me but drowning me in peace.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 5

a/n: ong this is going to be a bit of a crack episode w a tiny dash of flirty manager

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

-Watch the boys be all dramatic when yn misses a few days of school and suddenly show up with a broken arm😭✊🏻😔

- Dunno if this is a dream or not but i think you mentioned that yn is clumsy. Just imagine her carrying those cute band aids around for when she gets hurt. But what if she uses them on the boys when they get hurt

tumblr moot:

- She is looking down at the boy who is checking her scrap on her knee, when she smiles all cutely and shit "I fell for you" And cue the boy having a heart attack because she is way to cute

im totally not running out of seijoh gifs or anything

anyways!!

lets start!!

okay as mentioned before and as read above,,

you are quite clumsy

like there is a normal level of clumsy

but you are just on another level

like in manager part 2, your mom ltr was not shocked when you said you fell up the stairs like ‘oh okay. the weathers nice today’

lmao what

and youre also the type to not even know you got hurt like youd just be scratching your arm and youd find a bruise 

‘how did that get there?’

so it was common to find you with band-aids on you and bruises all over

like you entered the gym for practice and you were just doing your normal manager tingz when our meme bois saw you and zoomed towards you

‘y/n-chan!!! we missed you!!!!

makki screeched which scared you so you dropped the crate of bottles onto your feet

‘owie’

you mumbled, the pain settling in at an overwhelmingly quick pace so there were tiny tears in your eyes

the duo gasped and quickly kicked the crate to the side like they were angry at it for hurting you

uwu omg thats so cute

or the one time you were wiping the sweat from kyo’s forehead

he had a small soft smile that could only be seen by you as you got rid of the sweat 

but that smile turned into a frown when he got a glimpse at the discoloration on certain parts of your arms

‘y/n’

he whispered

you blinked up and he gently grabbed your arm, fingertips ghosting over the bruises

‘how could you do this to your beautiful skin’

he mumbles and you shrugged

‘hmm,,, i didnt even know they were there’

kyo shook his head with an amused chuckle and iwa, who was drinking water at the side, noticed you two

then he noticed more at your other arm and baby boi hurriedly ran over to you

next thing you know, you got best bois fussing over you always hurting yourself and kyo gently headbutts you to tell you off while iwa flicks your nose

‘honestly, we cant trust you by yourself’

you just giggled at them which caused them to stumble and fluster

THESE BOYS ARE SO SOFT LIKE PLEASE

its quite normal for you to look like you just fell down the stairs and be so surprised whenever the boys point it out

like youd have this confused pout  and tilt your head ‘hm? hello. how did you get here’

its kinda cute

and ofc you would naturally have your ointments for bruises or a first aid kit at all times bc you never really know when it happens and you need to treat it quickly

the boys always count on you for medical tape when their fingers bleed or whenever watari gets bruises all over his legs bc of too many flying dives

the bench was a common place for you to treat the others and our libero babie was sitting there at one practice

you were kneeled on the floor and gently applying ointment on the growing colors on his skin 

‘hmm,,, wata-san, be careful next time, okay? your skin is really soft and pretty. its a shame to ruin it’

he wanted to scoff at the irony and the hypocritical comment but your worried and concerned eyes made him softly smile and nod

‘mhm. i will’

even though it was uneeded on reddened places, you would dig in your bag and fish out a gudetama bandaid on it

it was like a doctor’s signature for you and it makes the boys ltr fall in love with you all over again

ororororor that one time where kindaichi accidentally got a papercut during your study sessions and he was tearing up slightly at the pain

LMAO YALL REALLY OUT HERE TOUGHING OUT PAPERCUTS LIKE ITS NOTHING BUT I ACT LIKE I GOT STABBED 10 TIMES 

you grinned at him to show that it was going to be okay and he let you sit on his lap so you could treat it

he still had a pout and you were giving him forehead kisses to calm him down

‘see? its going to be okay. nurse y/n-chan is the best out there and she’ll take care of you!’

he laughed slightly and you victoriously smiled

once it was all wrapped up, you placed a kiss on it

‘ya gotta kiss it to make it better’

not saying im doing a kindaichi route or anything but he may or may not tackled you with kisses with that comment

but sometimes, they would have to be the one to put that bandaid on you

like one day, you were walking down the stairs to go to the changing rooms for practice and humming softly when you caught sight of the tall volleyball player mattsun at the bottom of the stairs

he was just passing by and you noticed him, waving your hand and shouting his name

‘mattsun-san!’

you greeted and he turned and he smiled brightly at you

you excitedly increased your pace going down the stairs, not noticing that you stepped on the edge of the step and caused your foot to slip

unfortunately, mattsun was too far away for him to catch you so you tripped and scraped your knee

he flashnyoomed over to you and kneeled in front of you to examine it

ofc it hurt like hell but you put up a brave front

‘its okay, mattsun-san’

his adorable eyebrows scrunched in concern and he quickly shook his head and gently picked you up to sit 2 steps up

you watched silently as he grabbed ahold of the familiar blue first aid kit from your bag and he opened it to take out alcohol and other treatment things

his fingers worked to open the bottle and pour a little bit of alcohol before he gently reached out to grab your leg

but before that, our babie mattsun is a gentleman and looked up for a permission to help you

‘its okay, mattsun-san’

you giggled and you booped his nose

he was slowly cleaning the wound and you could still tell he was worried with how his brows were still furrowed

‘mattsun-san’

you called out and he looked up

you smiled cutely and looked down, flustered, then met his eyes again

‘i fell for you’

mattsun.exe stopped working

like deadass he blanked for a second then his brain processed what you said and when he did, he dropped the cotton ball and his face blew up red

this babie grimaced, eyes shutting tightly and head leaning on your thigh

you giggled at him and ran your hands through his hair

‘i swear, y/n, i swear’

he kept mumbling and his heartbeat quickened to the point he felt faint and he felt light-headed

you were just too cute

too damn cute for his heart

too damn cute for this world

just too cute

and thats not good

mattsun quickly regained his senses and hurriedly placed the ointment and the bandaid on to finish the job

you reached out with your hands for a hug and mattsun gladly leaned in and you clung to him like a koala which made him hold you tightly against his chest

‘hmm~~~~ thank you, mattsun-san’

you appreciated and gave him a kiss on his cheek in gratitude which made him hide his face in your neck

‘im going to get a heart attack, y/n. take responsibility’

he mumbled, nipping your neck 

you chuckled and played with the hair on his neck

‘hm~ okay~ i take responsibility~’

I SWEAR MY MATTSUN SIMP IS NOW PEAKING THROUGH

that was only one of the accidents the seijoh boys went through with you and i swear those boys have superior intelligence in medical care just because you get hurt so much

until that one faithful day

you werent there

you werent at school or at practice

ofc you texted the coaches and the team that you werent going to be at school for a while and they spammed you asking what happened or if you were okay

but you didnt want to worry them so you just said that you were okay and it was just something that happened

ONG OIKAWA ACTUALLY CAME TO YOUR HOUSE BUT YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS AND NATSU TO TELL HIM TO GO AWAY BC IF HE FINDS OUT WHAT HAPPENED, THE CHILE WILL STORM INTO YOUR ROOM AND LECTURE YOU 

HE ONLY WENT AWAY WHEN YOUR DAD CAME OUT WITH A BROOM AND THREATENED TO HIT HIM IF HE CONTINUES TO BOTHER YOU

UKAI VIBES HONESTLY

IS UKAI YOUR FATHER?

CONSPIRACY THEORY?

BUZZFEED UNSOLVED COME SOLVE THIS

then you finally appeared

dear god 

kunimi saw you enter the classroom and he almost shot up to saturn when he saw your cast

‘y/n!’

he shouted and kindaichi heard it from his classroom beside yours and he also usain bolted towards your classroom to your desk

the boi texted the team you were here and they all raced to your classroom 

EVERYONE WAS HAVING A FIELD DAY WITH THE APPEARANCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL VOLLEYBALL TEAM LIKE THE BOYS + YOU?! GODSEND

oikawa screeched at the sight of your arm and everyone was firing questions at you but you couldnt focus on one so you just sat there sheepishly smiling

‘Y/N! WHAT DID-’

‘I SWEAR ITS LIKE WE HAVE TO-’

‘MY HEART ALMOST DIED!! I THOUGHT YOU DIED-’

thank god your professor entered the shooed them out with a large textbook but your teacher smiled at you

‘l/n, good to have you back’

at lunch, dear god there was a riot

kunimi strong man kunimi hoisted you in his arms and walked over to the hidden team stairwell where everyone was waiting

they all had narrowed eyes and crossed arms, with iwakyo tapping their foot

you did the 🥺👉👈 and their eyes softened at that sight alone

‘you see,,,, i had a,,, concert,,, in the shower,,, and slipped’

they blinked, confusion swirling over everyone’s head

‘excuse me? you said you slipped in the bath?’

‘for a concert?’

‘you sing?’

the team facepalmed at the reason you came in with a broken arm and you pouted at them

‘sorry, captain, everyone. i didnt mean to’

you mumbled but the others couldnt blame you so they pulled you to a group hug

‘i swear, y/n-chan, you will get yourself killed one day’

‘sorry’

you apologized again but oikawa flicked your nose

‘no dont apologize. we’ll just have to be there for you constantly to look out for you’

and he stuck to that word

like oikawa came over to your house early in the morning to pick you up from school and your dad thought it was just him bothering again

so he sighed, placed his newspaper down, took a sip of tea, then stood up to go to the closet for his broom

this mans took a deep breath before opening his door and shouting and waving his broom around maniacally

‘SHUT UP!!! YOURE DISTURBING THE NEIGHBORS!! I WILL BEAT YOUR LOUD CRUSTY DUSTY-’

that woke up everyone in the house and you bolted down the stairs, terrified yet chuckling at the sight

then something happened for everyone in the neighborhood-or Japan- to wake up

yanno the drill ladies and gents

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry i disappeared for a HOT SEC but im back!! and we finally going back to the groove!!! and uwu thanks for sticking by and waiting for another update and the next one might be my first not-seijoh work in a LONG WHILE so look forward to that!!! 

[winterscaptain]

absence.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the next installment is here! this is the second-to-last piece in the berry hill section of a joyful future. as it has been lately, this one requires little ajf context, but i would recommend reading berry hill and waldosia, if you haven’t already. (thanks to aimz @ssaic-jareau, kira @good-heavens-chris-evans, and sabina @writefasttalkevenfaster) edit: this has been heavily revised as of april 29th, 2021. the changes and additions address continuity errors and ongoing subplots. 

words: 7k (prev. 3.8k) warnings: language, vomit mention, really accurate satellite phone protocol (eat your heart out, cm writers), beard!hotch, jack hotchner content, one last slow burn

summary: “absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great” - roger de bussy-rabutin. au!march-september 2011

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? updated: april 29th, 2021

There’s a moment where he stops at your desk on the way out of the bullpen, but you just stare at him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it. After a moment, he finally says, “Jack is with Jessica tonight.” 

You have no idea what your face looks like, but it’s enough to drop his shoulders and send him on his way, defeated.

+++

You let yourself into his apartment, slamming the door behind you. He’s been waiting for you, leaning against the windowsill across from the door. 

“How dare you.”

He sighs and presses a hand to his forehead. “You have to understand that I -”

“Bullshit, Aaron. I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. What are you thinking? We need you.” 

His head tips up, and he looks through you. The haunted look in his eyes almost makes you falter - it so acutely reminds you of the days following Haley’s death - but you keep your resolve. He doesn’t say anything, just lets you yell at him until it's out of your system. You could never actually hate him and he knows that, which makes some of it easier, but not all of it. 

The tears start and pick up speed as you continue, nearly at a shout. “You've known for seven months that you were going to leave for Pakistan. I read the brief. Seven. Fucking. Months, Aaron. Since September, you’ve known and you didn’t tell us about the task force assignment in fucking Pakistan!” 

You pause, but the final nail in his proverbial coffin leaves your mouth without permission. “Emily died, and you’re still leaving?” He flinches. “You’re leaving me and Jack. You’re leaving our team. I never thought you could do something like that to us. Maybe them, but not me. Never to me. I mean, after everything we’ve -” You cut yourself off and raise the back of your hand to your mouth, unable to finish the unbearably painful thought.

He’s not sure which part is the most painful - the fact that you list yourself with Jack instead of with the BAU, the fact that you say ‘our team,’ or the tone that drips with hurt. The sob that rips through your chest breaks his heart. He leans heavily against the arm of his couch, knocked down by the weight of your tears. 

No. The hardest part is knowing he deserves it, that you aren’t saying anything that isn't unfair or untrue. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He can only watch you as you walk back out, leaving the door open behind you. 

About twenty minutes later, he receives a text.

9:34pm I’ll be there tomorrow at 12:30 to take you to base. Be ready when I get there. 

He crawls into bed about half an hour later, and receives another text.

10:05pm Goodnight. 

Fuck. 

+++

The ride to base ride is mostly silent, and you know something’s wrong. It’s nothing you can articulate or even really put your finger on, but it’s something bigger than just his imminent absence.

He’s boarding a C-130 supply transport with a few Marines and various agency task force members to an outpost in Pakistan. It will no doubt be a long and deeply uncomfortable flight. His go bag, packed with desert fatigues and a couple of creature comforts, looks smaller than usual at his feet. 

“How long?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Task force operations are need-to-know.” There’s so much he can’t tell you, and it eats at him. Because it’s you, and he’s been an ass, he concedes a little. “Probably a couple of months.”

“We’ll be okay, Aaron.” 

A little laugh leaves him, and it pulls a smile from you. 

“What?”

“Remember when you chased me down last night to tell me the team couldn’t do this without me?” 

You roll your eyes. “It’s still true, but we’ll manage. We always do.” There’s a moment of silence, and you continue. “And you’re going where you’re needed. That helps.” 

It’s true. Your anger had cooled (just a little) overnight, and you decided you didn’t want to be upset with him when he leaves. 

You already miss him. 

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

He looks out the window, and you can hear the wheels turning in his head. Jack is on his mind, and so are you. There’s nothing more nauseating than the thought of leaving you while you’re still hurting from Emily’s loss. “I know.” 

Why are you going through with this, Hotchner?

Oh, right. You’re a coward. 

“I just don’t want our last conversation before you leave to be a fight.” You sniff, but don’t look at him as you continue driving down the highway. 

I am perhaps the most undeserving man on the planet. 

He says, “Thank you. I don’t want that either,” but he hopes you can hear what else he can’t say. 

I love you. I’m sorry. 

+++

“Alright, you’ve got everything you need?” You stand next to him on the tarmac, shading your eyes from the sun. 

Aaron hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. “Think so. You gonna be alright?”

You nod and reach for him. He embraces you, tucking his head into your shoulder. “You be safe, Aaron Hotchner. If you die out there I’ll kill you myself.” 

He chuckles, and you hope the sound is enough to keep your heart from breaking too much over the next couple of months. Your eyes close as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll check in when I can.”

Shoving against his chest, you turn him around and push him toward the plane. “Get outta here.” 

He takes one last look over his shoulder when he reaches the loading ramp and offers you a wave. You return it. 

+++

You manage to get to the highway before the tears start. The only person you want to talk to is Emily. She’d know exactly what to say, and she’d make sure your days off were full of fun and good company. You pull off on the side of the road, your head falling into your hands, sobs wracking through you.

When you’re able to keep driving, your chest hurts beyond belief. 

Without her, these months seem to stretch before you forever. 

+++ april 2011 +++

It’s not the first time you’ve ended up in his office alone, but it’s the first time you’ve really noticed the evidence of his absence. 

The picture frames on his desk started gathering dust, so you brought a little duster to the office. His desktop computer has stopped making noise, so you turned it on and off once out of pity. His phone hardly rings, unless it's the NSA trying to get a hold of one of you for a sat phone call, so you and Morgan take turns taking forwarded calls. 

The silence is overwhelming and seems to pull something intangible from you. It’s exhausting. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” 

You turn, finding Penelope in the doorway. You’re not sure how long she’s been there, watching your acquiescence to the bees that seem to have invaded your brain in the last couple of weeks. 

“I slept last night,” you tell her. It’s not technically a lie. 

She doesn’t look impressed. “Did you sleep through the night, or are you just trying to play one of your Jedi mind tricks on me?” 

With a sigh, you cop to it. “No, I didn’t sleep through the night.” You look out the window to the bullpen, and you know she sees something on your face. 

“I don’t like it either.” She looks over her shoulder, finding Spencer and Ashley playing a game of Go on the desk. Unsurprisingly, Spencer’s winning. Rossi and Derek speak quietly by the little kitchen, looking just about as tired as you feel. 

The short-handedness is getting to you. “There’s just…” You search for something to say. “There’s just so much to do.” 

Penelope looks back. Her mouth twists. “And we’re down a couple’a hands.” 

That’s an understatement. 

+++

“I would understand if you needed some time to think about it.” Erin leans forward in her chair, elbows on her desk. “With your team cut in half, even I wouldn’t feel comfortable sending you to another unit without some time to train a replacement or two.” 

“Or three,” you add.

She looks at you and nods. “Exactly.” 

You pick up the letter from the Special Agent in Charge in Los Angeles. You’d be his right hand - essentially the liaison between operational support divisions and units operating in the field. It’s a hell of an opportunity, a huge promotion, and a significant bump in pay. 

“Can I take you up on the offer to think about it?” You slide the letter across the desk again. 

Her eyes are soft, and you almost feel close to her in that moment. “Of course. Take your time. It’s a position created just for you, so there’s nobody else in line for it.” 

“Thanks.” 

+++ may 2011 +++

“Ready or not, here I come!” You call across the apartment, sneaking through the familiar rooms with practiced ease. 

Aaron’s been away for close to a month, and you’ve settled into a routine. Cases, of course, keep you busy. Derek’s rather good at playing unit chief - decisive and collaborative - but you miss Aaron’s steady, even hand. 

Really, you miss everything about him. You try not to think about him too much. 

You fail, often. 

Avoiding thoughts of Aaron gets even harder as you creep into the master bedroom. The smell of him hasn’t left. Past the doorway, the air is spicy, masculine, and warm. You squint at the bed. One of the pillows moves, just a little, and you pounce, pulling the covers back and grabbing the wiggling pillow. 

Jack screeches and throws himself at you. You catch him and fall back on the bed, laughing. “I found you!”

Jess is off running errands for the afternoon, taking some well-earned time off. You’ll more than likely spend the night over here tonight to give her more of her weekend. It’s never any trouble to stay with Jack. You adore each other. 

Usually, Jack leaps right to his feet for another round, but he stays put after his fit of mirth passes, sprawling across your chest. 

“What are you thinking about over there?”

He sighs, and brings his little hands under his chin, propping his head up so he can look at you. He’s six (and then some), now - still very much a boy - but the pensive look on his face starkly reminds you of his father. “When’s Dad going to be home?”

You push some hair off his forehead. “I’m not sure, my love. I’m hoping it’s only a couple more weeks, but it could be a little longer than that.” 

He sighs, and it breaks your heart a little. You turn on your side, and he curls into you, resting his head on your arm and tucking under your chin. “Are you and my dad best friends? I have a best friend named Connor and he says best friends are really important and I was just wondering.”

You laugh a little. “Yeah, I think so. Your dad and I have known each other for a long time.” His little hands play with the collar of your shirt. There’s more to his question. Jack’s just like his dad and takes a bit of ferreting out. Luckily, you’ve had plenty of practice. “What are you curious about, little bug?”

“Do you miss Dad?”

A track of Aaron’s laugh, his smile, the way his arms feel around you flies through your head. “Yeah, I miss him a lot.” 

“I’m happy you’re here so we can miss him together.” You can almost hear Aaron’s voice in Jack’s. It sounds just like something he would say, and probably has said, talking to his son about Haley.

“Me too, buddy.” You kiss the top of his head. “Me too.” 

Jess returns about an hour later, groceries in-hand, to find you and Jack curled together in Aaron’s bed, snoozing the afternoon away. She snaps a picture with her phone, saving it in an album she keeps for Aaron. After she puts the groceries away, she escapes, leaving a note. 

You’re on your own tonight and tomorrow. Have a good time with breakfast - he’s been picky lately. 

XO, Jess

+++

“You know,” Jess says, a little out of the blue one afternoon. “Haley told me something once.” 

You snort. “I’d imagine she told you a great number of things.” 

“Well, sure. But I mean about you and Aaron.” 

It’s pretty stupid that your body decides to panic over absolutely nothing. If this was a polygraph, you’d fail outright. And yet, nothing’s happened between you and Aaron. You’re just friends. 

Yeah but you love him. 

And he probably loves you, too. 

But we're all to chickenshit for that.

What a-fucking-bout it?

You take a little breath and a sip of your tea. “Oh?” You hope the query sounds casual enough and doesn’t give away the cool sweat blossoming over your palms. 

Luckily, Jess isn’t a profiler. 

“Haley told me - and this was the summer before she died, so it’s not like she told me under duress or anything - that she thought there may have been something between you and Aaron after the divorce.” 

She says that like it’s the simplest thing. You’re not sure what to say, so you keep your eyes on the grain of the coffee table, tracing the lines with your eyes. Eventually, you decide to answer in the simplest, most honest way possible. 

“There’s never been anything between Aaron and me. He’s one of my best friends and I care about him.” That sounds evasive even to your own ears. “I care about him a lot.” 

Jess hums. “I know, but Haley always had a sense about these things. And she knows Aaron better than anyone.” 

Her slip into the present tense makes your chest pull. 

“I don’t say that to put you on the spot or anything.” She shrugs. “I just think you guys would be good together. You’re good for him and I think he’s good for you, too.” 

She’s more right than she knows, but you can’t think about it for too long. You miss him too much. 

Out of a need to respond, you offer a half-hearted, “Maybe.” 

Jess reaches out. “He’ll be home soon. When he gets back, I think you should at least think about it. Or talk about it.” She shakes her head. “Or something.” 

“I have -” You cut yourself off, not really meaning to share. 

She squeezes your knee. “I know you have. So has he.” 

+++ june 2011 +++

Back to back cases - five of them, to be exact, pull you through the next four weeks by the ear. Formal leadership wears on Derek more and more by the day, and you find yourself making just as many decisions as he does. You’re immensely proud of him, but the whole thing is exhausting. Spencer does his best to slip back into his normal role, but Emily’s loss continues to wear on him. You don’t blame him.

Most days feel held together by duct tape, with you and Rossi acting as the adhesive. All that and the offer in Los Angeles you’ve hardly had time to process. 

Thus, your evening with Jess is both well-earned and much needed. 

“Wanna crash here tonight?” She sets a mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of you and sits heavily back on the couch. “It’s pretty late.”

You check your watch and find it is indeed late. Before you can answer, your phone rings, and you answer it with an apologetic glance toward Jess. “Hey, Morgan. What’s up?”

“We have sat call notification from Hotch. Can you come in?” He sounds exhausted. 

“Yeah, I can be there in twenty. Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah, looks like a routine check-in.” 

Jess sighs, knowing the drill. She goes to the kitchen and pours your tea into a travel mug. 

“Are you calling anyone else in?”

“Nope. Just you. See you when you get here.” He hangs up. 

You stare at your phone as Jess sits next to you again. “We have a call from Aaron coming in, and I have to head to the office.” She hands you your travel mug, and you take it gratefully. 

“You’re welcome back here - I can set up Aaron’s room for you. We’re a lot closer to the office than your place, and I don’t want you to drive if you’re too tired.” She sets a hand on your knee, and you reach over to embrace her. 

“Thanks, Jess.”

+++

When you arrive, Derek’s already on the phone. “... So, no leads?... Right.” He looks up and catches your eye. “Here, Hotch.”

You take the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He sounds relieved. “Are you doing okay? How’s Jack?”

His questions make you smile. “We’re good. He’s good. I just left the apartment - Jess and I were having some grown-up movie time.”

You’re warmed by his laugh. “Good. Glad to hear it. I was just telling Derek that the leads out here have gone cold, but we’re still working.”

“Ah. Any chance you’ll be home soon?” You avoid Derek’s searching gaze. 

“It doesn’t look that way, no. We’re picking up on some chatter out there, but nothing firm. We’ll have to keep out for a couple more weeks at least.”

Your heart drops, but you hide it as best you can. “Alright. Anything you need from us back here?”

“Just keep doing good work.” You know he can’t say much more than that, with more than a couple of NSA guys in between you on the line, not to mention the archival recording of the call. Even then, you know he means looking for Doyle. “That’s all I need from you.” 

“We can do that.” You give him a quick rundown of some recent cases, all surface-level. You’re mostly stalling, using up incredibly expensive satellite time just to hear his voice. 

You hear him sigh. “Alright, I gotta get back. Tell Jack and Jess I love them.” 

“Of course.” You hand the phone back to Derek and wait while they finish up. Your eyes wander over the volumes of law books in Aaron’s bookshelf, the pictures of Jack and Haley and Jess behind his desk. Wandering over to his chair, you sit down and rest your head on your arms. 

Your eyes wander to a photo taken a year and a half ago at Haley’s service. You’re not sure who took it, but you’re crouched on the ground talking to Jack, while Aaron stands behind him with a hand on his head. Jack's little hands are in yours, and he’s smiling a little. 

Of all the photos to keep on his desk...

Derek hangs up the sat phone and puts it back in the lockbox. He crosses the office and leans against the desk beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

+++

When you get back to the apartment (indeed much closer than your home), Jess is asleep in the guest room, and Jack’s still out like a light. 

You change into your pajamas, stuffed into your go bag, and curl up under the covers on Aaron's side of the bed. His pillow smells faintly like him, and you burrow into it. 

The bed feels far too big and far too cold without him. 

+++

“JJ!” You stand to greet her. “What are you doing here?” 

She holds up her credentials. “I’ve been reinstated as a profiler on temporary assignment, so don’t get too excited. It’s a contingent favor for the FBI and I’m sure the State Department will call to collect sometime soon.” 

You clear your consults and subpoenas off the desk beside you. “Good to have you back.” Looking over at the intimidating stack of files you ask, “Need anything to do?”

+++ july 2011 +++

The next time a sat call comes in, you can’t go into the office. Jack has the flu and is absolutely miserable. You can’t, in good conscience, leave Jess to her own devices. Between the vomit and the sleeplessness and the tears, four hands are absolutely necessary. 

“Derek, I can’t leave. Jack is literally puking his guts out as we speak, and I don’t have any new intel for Hotch.” 

Morgan huffs into the phone. “Come on. You know you’re the only one he actually wants to talk to and the only one who has any actual updates about Jack.” 

“You just have to tell him that I’m up in the middle of the night with his son, who has the flu. Isn’t that enough of an update?” You don’t really mean to snap at him, but the lack of sleep has made you a little punchy. 

“Fine. If he -”

“Yeah, I know. If he gets upset, just blame me. He can deal with me when he’s not in Pakistan. As long as there are five time zones between us, I’ll take my fucking chances.”

“Fair enough.” 

He hangs up, and you return to the hall bathroom, where Jack’s cheek is pressed against the toilet seat, his forehead clammy and face pale. Jess is taking her turn to sleep - you’ll switch off in an hour. 

“Hey, bubba.”

He mumbles something that sounds like, “Hi.”

“Can I get you some crackers or maybe some Sprite?” 

Jack shakes his head and lifts himself up, holding his arms out. The risk of illness far from your mind, you gather him up and lean against the cabinets, rubbing his back.

“Can you try to close your eyes for me?”

“I don’t feel good.” There are a few tears in his voice, and it breaks your heart a little. You’ve so been there. 

“I know, baby. I know. Just close your eyes for a minute, okay?”

He does, and his breathing evens out eventually. He’s still feverish, but you’re happy he’s sweating, at least. It could break by morning at this rate. 

The makeshift towel-bed on the bathroom floor looks more than inviting. You gingerly shuffle over and lay down, keeping Jack flat against your chest. 

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

+++

“Strauss offered me that transfer to LA again.” 

Derek looks up at you from his report, his brows drawn low over his eyes. “You gonna take it?” 

You heave a sigh. Before you can say anything -

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He puts his pen down, giving you his full attention. “What’s stopping you?” 

So many things. 

There are only a couple of them you can say aloud. Luckily, they have the benefit of being true, albeit incomplete. “I love this work. I love this team. I don't know if I want to be a lackey for an almost-politician.” 

“And?” 

He’s got you. He knows there’s more because he knows you. Even then, you can’t bring yourself to say exactly what it is that’s holding you back. So, you hedge your answer, knowing he’ll understand. 

“I can’t -” leave Aaron and Jack. You clear your throat. “I can’t leave this team. Maybe that makes me a coward or suggests a lack of adventure or something, but I can’t do it.” 

“It doesn’t,” Derek says. “It makes you human.” 

You smile a little. 

“And for the record, I don’t want you to leave. And I don’t think Jack and Hotch do, either.” 

A little incredulous laugh leaves you. Derek simply smiles, but doesn’t say much else. It makes your point for you. 

Nobody else knows you like this team. 

+++

The hardest days are the ones where you end up by yourself. Derek’s picked up kickboxing with Penelope, Spencer has withdrawn almost entirely, JJ has her family, and Rossi retreats to the cabin by the lake with an alarming degree of regularity. 

Thank God he’s not as cranky as Gideon. 

That would be too spooky. 

Everyone is out of the office, scattered to their respective distractions. You sit on the floor of Aaron’s office, leaning against his desk. Your laptop sits open in front of you, but you’re only half paying attention to the movie playing. 

It was only this afternoon you realized his office smelled more like stale paper, your house, and Tiger Balm than Aaron, and it broke your heart a little. Your only solace was his apartment - the evidence of his existence was inescapable there. With Emily gone for good, you often needed the reminder. 

His office phone rings. You pause the movie, stand, and answer it. 

“Agent Hotchner’s office.” 

NSA is on the other side, dry and professional. “We have an incoming call from Agent Hotchner. Is Agent Morgan available?” 

You tell him he’s not, but that you’re the next in line to receive task force updates. In an equally dry and professional tone, you relay your credentials and your unique intel code. 

“Thank you. Please stand by.” Click. 

You roll your eyes. 

God, they’re boring. 

Sitting down at Aaron’s desk, you wait for the armed guard to arrive with the phone. As per protocol, you’ll sign for the call and remove it from the lockbox yourself. You’ll return it for pickup when the call is completed. 

The guard shows up and you step through the motions, finally getting the phone to your ear. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounds surprised, but not displeased. 

You laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s me. Morgan’s unavailable at the moment.” 

“I see. Is Jack feeling any better?”

“Yeah. He’s been alright for about a week now. It was a pretty nasty bug, but he’s a trooper. Any new chatter down your way?” You trace the wood grain of his desk with your finger, only a little absent-minded. 

“There’s a little bit of activity on the border. We’re monitoring the situation. Is everything going okay over there?”

“Yeah, for the most part. We’ve been feeling the heat a little since Seaver transferred to Andy’s unit, but we’re managing alright. Dave’s called JJ back in to lend a hand, and she’s doing really well.” 

He hums. “That was a smart idea.” 

“I’ll tell him you said so.” 

“Oh, please don’t. It’ll go straight to his head.” 

You smile. “Fair point. Any updates on the timetable?”

When are you coming home? Please make it soon. 

“Not at the moment. I think we’re getting closer. Few more weeks.” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite grasp, but you let it go. 

“Alright. Keep us posted.” 

“Will do. You know the drill.” 

“I sure do. I’ll relay the information to the team, tell your son you love him, and talk to you in a couple of weeks.” 

You can almost hear his smile. “Exactly. Talk soon.”

“Be safe, Aaron.” 

“Hey, before you go,” he says. “Can you, um -” 

You smile, tracing the wood grain on his desk. “I’ll tell Haley you said Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks.”

+++

Jess’s hand only shakes a little as she lights the candle and holds the cupcake between the three of you. While she takes care of the cake and begins to sing with Jack, you hold the camera, filming the impromptu party so Aaron can see it when he comes home.

“Okay, Jack you have to help Mom blow out the candle,” Jess says, holding the cupcake in front of him. With a great amount of glee, Jack extinguishes the candle with a big breath and a laugh. 

You turn the camera on Jess, who says, “We couldn't let Haley’s forty-first go unrecognized - she’s officially old and we had to let her know.” 

With a laugh of your own, you turn the camera around and wave before turning it off. 

“Can I eat the cake now?” Jack asks. 

Jess nods, pulling the candle and setting it aside on your picnic blanket. “Of course, but after we eat some fruit, okay? I don’t want the ants to get to the basket before you do.” 

The July sunshine beats down on the three of you, picnicking beside Haley’s resting place. It is, in fact, her forty-first birthday. You can only imagine the look on her face she would have adopt when you reminded her of her age. 

“Oh please,” she’d say. “When you get to be as old as me, you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Jack sits in the sun, munching on a little apple slice. You reach over, rubbing a little splotch of sunscreen into his skin. He already has a little sunburn from your adventure to the District earlier in the week and you’re not about to make your life even harder. 

Aaron’s absence, even in its fourth month, is glaring. Jack has mostly stopped waking in the middle of the night looking for him and having regular meltdowns, but he always looks up when the front door opens with an expectant look that breaks your heart. He’s an adaptable kid, but months without contact from his father have taken their toll. If you’re honest, it surprised you a little bit. 

With a little bit of perspective, months are different than days, or even a week or two. Jack relies on Aaron more than you realized and the difficulty of helping Jess where you can has only further illuminated your ignorance.

“Will Mom always have a birthday?” Jack asks. 

Jess looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

He thinks for a moment, a little pensive. “I mean, because she’s not here. Do people who aren’t here still have birthdays?” 

“They do,” she replies. “That’s why we have to celebrate for them. They aren’t here, but it’s still special.” 

He nods, a kind of understanding look on his face that makes you think he knows exactly what that means. 

+++

“Yeah?”

You smile. It’s been a minute since you heard his voice, over the phone or otherwise. “Hey, Dr. Reid. How’s Vegas?”

“Hot. But it’s nice to be home.”

“How’s your mom?” You trace aimless patterns over the mat on Aaron’s desk, watching the suede imprint and erase as you go.

He sighs. “She’s alright. I think she’s about ready to kick me out, though.”

“It’s only been three weeks,” you laugh. “Surely you can make yourself useful?”

“I sent in her most recent publication to the journal, so I’ve outgrown my use until I find her a new thesis.”

You can almost see it - the two geniuses, mother and son, bickering over a game of chess or fourteenth-century novel. “Better find her a new thesis, then.”

Spencer’s thin smile is audible through the phone. “Guess so. How are things over there?”

“It’s a little hectic. It’s just me, JJ, Morgan, and Rossi now. Penelope’s still working with us regularly, but counter-terrorism keeps pulling her for ‘special projects,’ whatever that means.”

You don’t mean to guilt him into coming back or anything - you know he needs the time to recharge. He’ll come back when he wants to or feels he needs to but at this point, there’s hardly a difference between four and five agents on the team. You need Aaron. And Emily.

“With the amount of summer task forces coalescing, that doesn’t surprise me.” He pauses. “I’ll probably spend a few more weeks here unless there are any developments between now and then.”

By developments, you know it means any confirmed sighting of your target. “That sounds like a plan. We’ll be glad to have you back but take your time. You’ve more than earned it.”

“Thanks.”

+++ august 2011 +++

“How’s Jack?” 

“He’s doing alright,” you tell him. “He misses you.” 

I miss you.

Aaron sighs. There isn’t time for everything he wants to say, even less for the things he could. “I’m probably going to miss his first day.” 

“That’s what I figured.” It's hard to think about and probably going to be harder than you can imagine, especially if there’s a case that takes you away from home. “Jess will take lots of pictures and I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you all about it when you get home.” 

It’s hard to keep the bitterness from your voice, but neither one of you could have anticipated this would go on for this long. ‘Over the summer’ seems a little abstract until the end of the summer arrives. 

This isn’t his fault. It isn’t. You know that. 

But it’s his fault for going in the first place. 

Conceptual anger isn’t useful. That’s another thing of which you’re keenly aware. 

And yet…

“Thank you for being there for them,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind. “I know this isn’t easy.” 

There’s nothing you can really say, but you hum anyway. 

The pair of you are just eating satellite time now, so you say goodbye and good luck before tipping your head back against his office chair. 

When the tears slip down your cheeks, you’re not sure if you miss him more than you’re mad at him or the other way around. 

+++

“Chief Strauss?” You knock lightly on her door and she beckons you in, just finishing up a phone call. She gestures to the little sitting area in the corner of her office, and you make yourself comfortable on one of the couches.

She hangs up and joins you. “Have you thought more about the offer?”

“I have. Thank you for your patience. I know it’s been a little while since we first spoke about it.”

Erin waves her hands, brushing off the implied apology. “The BAU’s work in the last few weeks has been exemplary. I’m impressed, especially considering the significant funding and personnel obstacles you’re facing at the moment.”

You laugh a little.  “I hope that doesn’t make anyone think working with this many people is acceptable, ma’am.”

“No,” she assures you. “I’ve made that very clear.”

There’s a small moment of silence before you speak again.

“I won’t be accepting the position in Los Angeles.”

Strauss sighs but doesn’t look surprised. “That’s as I expected. I will, however, add something that I did not share with you before to further inform your choice.”

You sit up a little straighter, a little more attentive.

“The push for a transfer is also in an effort to protect your reputation. I know the BAU has continued investigating Ian Doyle and while that is noble, it could go very wrong. And that much is above my head. DHS, ATF, NSA - they could all be upset by your unofficial involvement. This could go as high as Congress and could result in your permanent termination from the bureau, making you ineligible for work in federal law enforcement.”

“Yes, ma’am. High risk, high reward.” You shrug. “Or at least, that’s what Dr. Reid tells me.”

A wan smile pulls at her mouth. “Yes. As long as you’re comfortable with the consequences.”

“I am, ma’am.”

“Good.”

+++ september 2011 +++

“Alright, buddy! You ready to go?” 

Jack adjusts the straps on his little backpack while Jess finishes putting his lunch together. “I’m ready. Just need lunch.” 

“It’s right here!” Jess says, bringing his Captain America lunchbox to him and strapping it to the outside of his backpack. “You’ve got a ham and cheese sandwich, a juice box, some carrots, and a brownie. Does that sound okay?” 

He nods. 

“And if it’s not enough, we can always get some more food after school okay? It can be a special treat.” 

Jack grins and you all head off to the car together. 

+++

The little meltdown arrives when you and Jess move to leave him at the door of his classroom. Jack’s brown eyes get wide and rapidly fill with tears as soon as you take a step away from him. 

“Jack, baby, c’mere.” You drop to your knee and open your arms. He steps into them and you can feel his shaky, hiccuping breaths against your shoulder. 

While you hold him, you hear Jess debriefing his new teacher about their current situation, and the way things are in general. Dad in Pakistan, dead mom, goes by Jack rather than Jonathan, the whole nine. 

“You are so brave,” you whisper into his hair. “You are so smart. You are a good friend and you are safe.” 

He nods. 

“I’m so sorry your dad can’t be here, honey, but he’s going to be so excited to hear all about it as soon as he gets home. And I'll tell him how brave you are on our next secret superhero phone call.” 

‘Secret superhero phone call’ was the best way you could describe using the sat phone (and why Jack couldn't talk to Aaron himself) so you just went with it. 

Jack nods again, sniffling a little and pulling back. You reach for him, wiping his tears with your thumbs. 

“I love you so much, bud.” 

“I love you, too.” 

You kiss his forehead, reminding him, “I might have to get on a plane for work, but otherwise I’ll see you after you’re done with your first-ever day of school, okay? This is so exciting!”

He finally smiles, and your work is done. When he steps into the classroom, he doesn’t look back.

+++

Thankfully, you’re not pulled for another case until the end of the week, so you’re able to see Jack through his first-ever week of school. 

It hits you more than once that you’re the person next to Jess right now while he hits these milestones. Long gone is that toddler that would giggle in his mother’s arms as she danced around the living room to Hall and Oates. In his place is an insightful little boy with a rapidly burgeoning sense of humor and a wickedly kind smile. 

You love him.

+++ 

The entire team got an emergency call, so you're all gathered in the roundtable room when Aaron walks in, looking all the worse for wear and -

Is that a beard?

Wait. He’s back. 

You just spoke to him on Monday, with news of a “few more weeks,” even in the face of developments on the Doyle case.

Fucking bastard knew he was coming home, didn’t he?

All of your joy in seeing him evaporates, and you narrow your eyes at him. Just like the last time you were in this room together, there’s an apology in his gaze. 

“Welcome back.” Derek doesn’t sound surprised, and your head whips toward him. He doesn’t look at you. 

Unbelievable. 

“Thanks. Everyone, have a seat.” You follow Aaron’s instructions, and sit, crossing your arms. It’s childish, sure, but the balance of personal and professional life has flown out the window. 

This feels like a personal slight, rather than a professional one. You try to push it away, but it lingers in your sternum like a lit flare. It’s uncomfortable, and you hate it. 

“Why?” Derek sounds a little concerned. Your anger cools a little bit. Derek doesn't actually know anything. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You notice, brow furrowed, that JJ stands beside Hotch like an ally. They both have odd looks on their faces. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.”

No. 

“The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” 

No. 

“Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.” 

No. 

There’s silence, and you can’t tear your eyes from Aaron.  

“She’s alive?”

“We buried her...” 

Penelope and Spencer’s comments rush past you and you feel much like you did in the waiting room on that horrible, horrible night seven months ago. 

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.” 

His eyes finally meet yours, and you find your vision blurred. You blink away your tears. 

It was a necessary lie. 

You go into this business expecting to be lied to. 

Not by Aaron. 

That’s not the issue and you know it. He left. 

He missed Jack’s first day of school. He was gone for five months. 

He left us. 

“Any issues?” Derek’s disbelief is marred by hurt, but you can’t reassure him through your own shock. “Yeah, I got issues.”

He’s cut off by Penelope’s glance toward the doorway. 

The team, save for JJ and Hotch, rushes toward her. You’re stuck to your seat until she approaches you. At her touch, you come back to life, throwing yourself into her arms. Her name sounds strangled leaving your mouth. “Emily.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her grip on you is tight, but your arms, looped around her shoulders, don’t feel like they’re attached to your body. 

She lets you go and continues to speak. Derek’s frozen, and you can’t imagine for a minute what’s going on in his head. Emily wraps around him. He’s stock still, his eyes misty. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he brings his hand to her shoulder, his cheek falling onto the side of her head. 

It’s back to business faster than you can blink, and now you’re sure you’re not the only one ready to kill Aaron where he stands. Derek is livid. 

They stare at each other while Spencer starts asking questions. Eventually, they focus back. Aaron crosses to you, contributing where necessary. 

You don’t acknowledge him. It’s horrible. You hate being so angry with him, but there’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t be upset at him about Emily. There’s too much to understand, and yet the initial shock of it is like a never-ending bucket of cold water poured over your body. 

Selfishly, you realize you’re upset with him because he didn’t tell you he was coming home. It’s so small when there are other, much bigger, issues to address. 

Emily’s lie is professional. Just part of the job. This one feels personal.

You’re a child. Let it go. 

He knew and he left. 

He missed Haley's birthday.

He knew and he left. 

He shouldn't have gone. 

He didn’t tell you he was coming home.

[ghostofstudentspast]

OBLIGATORY part 4

Draco x Pureblood!Reader (Series) MASTERLIST

Back again with another part to the series!! Since I’ve been on hiatus for so long I’m taking this story in a completely new direction which I am SO excited about. I really hope you all enjoy it!  I know chapters have been a bit short but I’m building to some bigger events soon ;)

PART 5 Word count: 1400

A hangover after a five-day bender. That’s the only way you could describe the way your body was feeling. Your stomach cramped up and a whimper escaped your lips as you curled in on yourself, soft sheets beneath you. Soft sheets. Not the cold hard floor of a dungeon classroom. Cracking open your eyes and sitting up slowly you peeked around the room before you.

Not the hospital wing either. The room itself was spacious, with a big window on one side, golden light streaming in through light curtains. There was a small desk in the corner, a cushy arm chair next to a small bookshelf and a fireplace. The bed you found yourself on was impossibly soft, with the fluffiest duvet you’d ever felt in the world. But still you had no idea where you were.

The soft click of a door drew your attention to the other side of the room. A familiar face slipped through the door before spotting you sitting up, awake.

“Ah, so you’re not dead after all.” You watched Draco walk towards you carefully, almost as if he was approaching a feral cat.

“No-I….where are we?” Your throat felt dry and your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I know why you did it,” He ignored your question and stopped next to your bed, handing you a glass of water you hadn’t noticed. You gratefully accepted the drink but never took your eyes off Draco. “It’s this isn’t it?” he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves and turned his arm towards you to expose the harsh black lines of the skull snaking down his porcelain skin.

You shook your head silently, too tired to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. You tried to come up with the words. How could you tell him it terrified you to spend your whole life under the dark lord’s thumb when Draco was so loyal to him. You could feel your breath hitch and the panic bubble in your chest.

“Hey, look at me,” his tone was surprisingly soft, almost gentle. He perched on the edge of the bed, closer than you were prepared for. His hand carefully gripped your elbow and you couldn’t stop your body from flinching slightly under his touch. You looked up at him as a tear rolled down your cheek and your chin trembled. His eyes held no malice anymore, no anger and none of the disgust she was expecting.

“I’m just as scared as you are.” He spoke as if saying it out loud for the first time. Maybe it was.

Of course, you knew he’d taken the mark, but you’d been so caught up in your own anger and fear that you hadn’t considered the toll it would have taken on him. The bags under his eyes spoke of restless nights. He looked frazzled, nothing close to the usual perfectionist persona you grew up with. For the first time you looked at his dark mark voluntarily. It made your skin crawl but now you could see the raised skin under the tattoo. The edges were red and looked as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Why did you take it?” you whispered and looked back at his face.

“He would have killed my family Y/N,” he didn’t look back up at you, instead focussing on the tattoo, disgust clear in his eyes. He dropped his arms into his lap and picked at the material of his trousers. “My father angered him, and he offered me up like a scapegoat for his actions.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just thought…” you took a deep breath, “I’m sorry.” You grabbed his hand to stop him from fiddling and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Me too.” He finally met your eyes again and offered you a tiny smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Truce?” you wiped your face from tears and a small laugh cut through your sob. He squeezed your hand back this time and nodded. “So, how do we know if me almost dying actually worked?” you pushed your hair back and took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts.

Draco pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the little desk in the corner of the room. He picked up the contract and brought it back for you to take a look at. At first glance you could only see blood splattered across the page and it looked like a crime scene. But when you took a second, closer look at the paper, the words had started to fade. Certain sentences had already disappeared off the page and others were hidden behind dark spots of your blood.

“It’s disappearing?” You looked up at Draco questioningly.

“It’s been fading for as long as you’ve been out.” He nodded, “but it hasn’t changed since you’ve woken up.” You kept flipping through the contract.

“So, we’re still bound to this,” you muttered, “but there’s enough missing that there must be a loophole here somewhere.” A spark of hope flared up in your chest and a small smile graced your lips.

“I think so,” he agreed and allowed himself to drop into the chair next to the bookshelf, inspecting at you from a safe distance.

“I’ve cast a charm on the copy of the document so anyone who looks at it will be fooled into thinking it’s the real one, so we have time before our families find out about this,” your brain was in idea mode, words tumbling out of your mouth before you could completely process them.

“You’re an idiot,” Draco spoke up, but it didn’t hold any malice this time, “but you’re a clever idiot.”

“I can get us out of this.” You grinned at him.

___________________

“Y/N!, where the hell have you been!?” Daphne screeched as soon as soon as you set foot in your shared dorm room. You’d come out of the room on the third floor dazed and a bit baffled but hope still sat in the back of your mind. As soon as you’d turned to ask Draco a question, the room was gone and so was he.

“Literally to hell and back.” You flopped onto your bed, body still sore. You launched into a full explanation as you showed your best friend the bloodied contract.

“This is insane!” She gasped as she read through some of the clauses, “and Draco, he’s…he didn’t want…?” she whispered even though you were alone. You nodded silently, he was in the same boat as the two of you. A scared kid.

“Look,” you pointed to the top of the contract, ‘The two parties will enter into a magic bound partnership’, “Before, all of the clauses pointed towards marriage, but now,” You flipped to another page with some vague outlines of the magical bond, “it only has to be a partnership. If we stick to the remaining demands, we can live the rest of our lives separately as long as we don’t break any of the rules.”

You were already planning on how to avoid some of the written demands. If you just made a list of the things the two of you had to stick to, you wouldn’t even have to live near each other. You just had to interpret a new meaning of the word partnership.

“This is insane, you almost died,” Daphne was still in shock, “I would have murdered you for that you know,” she smacked your arm with very little force behind it.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to fend for yourself without me,” you teased her and pulled your friend into a hug, relief spreading through you. One problem was dealt with. Now you had room to imagine a way out of danger for you and your friends. If you could keep your head down, play pretend for a little longer, you might make it out of here alive.

“We’re out of here as soon as we turn seventeen,” you promised Daph quietly, still holding her tightly.

“We have to be,” she squeezed you gently.

If you were going to survive your families, the Dark Lord and the stirring trouble that was brewing among the entire wizarding community, you’d have to keep up the loyal daughter façade for one more summer. Seventeen was when you’d be ‘marrying’ Malfoy. Seventeen was when you were considered your own person in the wizarding world. Seventeen was when you would find your freedom.

Obligatory Tag list:

@xkonpinkx @detroitobsessed @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @pointlesscoconut @irlkell @thehumanistsdiary @mo-onstarrs @summer-writes-words @aplaintart @jjjmaybank @rainstorm22 @weird-pale-blonde-person 

[aitarose]

GOLD DIGGER | BOLIN

PAIRING: Bolin x Earthbender!Reader [fem]

PLOT: Probending is easy when it’s all about the money. There’s no time for friends, romance, or allies—but that all changes when Y/N’s in-game rival saves her life. loosely based on this request by @comicgeek​

WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, a little fluff, a little angst, stuck together

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

A/N: i rewrote/edited this entire piece, so that’s why i added a tag list. it used to be 1.4k words and that wasn’t cutting it for me so i made it longer and decided on it being one part only, also i hated the gif i originally used so here’s a new one lol

MY MASTERLIST

Here come the Fire Ferrets’ opponents! The three-time defending champions, the White Falls Wolf-Bats!

Y/N raised her right arm above her head, watching proudly as her winged sleeve unveiled itself to the fan-filled stadium. She stood in a triangular formation beside Tahno and Shaozu, who were howling as loud as they possibly could.

Her expression was nothing more than stoic as a low whistle blew from her lips, adding an unnoticeable pitch to the viewer’s screams and cheers for their reigning champions.

Flames erupted around their team, fireworks exploding in the air in bursts of red and yellow. Through the plastic of her wolf mask, Y/N could clearly see her opponents, the Fire Ferrets, groaning in disgust at the obnoxious display in front of them.

A large smirk rose from Y/N’s lips as she noticed the unmistakable frown of annoyance on her rival’s face. He stood with a slight slouch, visibly cringing at the antics of the Wolf Bats, determined eyes paired nicely with his loathsome look.

In all her time living in Republic City, Y/N had never met anyone quite like Bolin. He had this natural positivity and enlightenment ingrained into his personality that she’d never been able to fully understand.

Sure, she hadn’t exactly been trying to get to know the earthbender any better—but he also hadn’t ever been at the top of her priorities.

Probending was the main idea on Y/N’s brain ever since she’d learned of the sport. As a child, her parents had taken her to countless matches and championships that she’d found a passion for the game. There was nothing she loved more than a good match between challengers.

But after the death of her parents to the Triple Threats, Y/N’s love for probending subsided. The excitement quickly died and was replaced with ambition. A dry and one-dimensional ambition for nothing more than the profits of fame and autographs.

Y/N cracked her knuckles, shooing away any nerves or hesitations she harbored over the probability of their win. They’d already bribed the referees, there was no way their opponents could win—even if they did have the Avatar on their side.

The champs and the challengers face off at the center line. And here we go!

At the echoing ring of the bell, Y/N dashed forwards. The familiarity of the game infused with her muscle memory made her a dangerous player. She knew the ins and outs of the sport, giving her the advantage over any skilled opponent, no matter how powerful they were.

She turned to Tahno, giving him a curt nod of reassurance, before watching him begin to shoot waves of water at the Avatar. On her opposite side, Shaozu made his way towards Bolin. Bursts of fire shooting in every direction, including Y/N’s

Flames seared the air, narrowly missing her face as she easily dodged Mako’s first attempts at an attack. She studied his movements, picking up on his style of fighting before letting her senses connect with the weight of the stone beneath her feet.

She raised her hands quickly, sending the flying slabs in Mako’s direction in a cross formation. Y/N whipped her head to see all three of her attacks hit their target, forcing the firebender into the next zone.

“Perfect form, Y/N!” Shaozu shouted, encouraging his teammate in eliminating their opponents. He turned to speak again, before being knocked down by none other than Y/N’s least favorite person in the entire world, Bolin.

As the boy cheered himself on, his teammates chimed in with words of gratitude and proudness. “Nice shot, Bo!” Mako called, complimenting his younger brother with a large smile pinned across his face.

Y/N, however, was anything but excited for him. She instinctively sprinted in his direction, making a beeline plan of attack. The stones nearest to her raised up and around her body, focusing on the figure that was Bolin.

Revenge was the only thought on her mind. The idea of the physical winnings and profit that she could make off of this match alone. The idea of the billboards and interviews that she’d get paid for, egging her emotions of anger on.

Bolin screamed in surprise as the disks targeted him. He threw up his own hands, blocking her attacks with clumsy ease. “Is that the best you’ve got?” He taunted between breaths, barely managing to dodge her stream of deadly attacks.

Whilst Bolin was distracted, Y/N gestured to Tahno, who’d been dealing with Korra, for assistance. The snake-like boy gave a sly smile to what he assumed Y/N was hinting at, leveling an ongoing stream of water directly at Bolin.

Look at that! Y/N uses her quick thinking to undermine Bolin, whilst Tahno performs the perfect, borderline illegal, assist that should certainly elicit a foul—or apparently not!

“Are you kidding me?” Bolin’s mouth was agape in shock at the ref’s decision. He grunted as Y/N gave Tahno a high-five with a sneer gracing her lips. At the sight of Bolin’s helplessness, she let out a laugh—finding his exasperation amusing.

Bolin mimicked her movements in pettiness, making fun of the way she walked and talked. Y/N rolled her eyes at his childishness, choosing to respond with the same amount of maturity while sticking her tongue out in annoyance.

As the game went on, the two teams seemed to be quite evenly matched in terms of strategy and teamwork. Not even the hefty bribe Tahno had given the referee seemed to put the Wolf Bats in favor of winning.

After what felt like hours, the challengers had reached the point where a coin toss was deemed to be necessary to determine the winners of the probending championship. This event, having never happened before, caused an uproar in the stands, chaotic excitement raging through the arena.

Y/N stared in anticipation at the airborne coin, her heart pounding in unison with every flip and turn it made. She could feel the sweat dripping down the back of her neck as she waited to hear who had been determined to choose the final element.

“Yes!” Korra shouted, pumping her fist into the air before grabbing both Mako and Bolin by the shoulders and taking them aside to their section of the field. Y/N, Tahno, and Shaozu impatiently waited for them to finish—though Y/N already had a good idea of what was about to happen.

“I’m taking this one.” Bolin announced, pushing his brother and Korra aside. He nodded to the referee, confirming the Fire Ferret’s conclusion. “Earthbender versus earthbender, Y/N.”

Y/N reluctantly laughed as Bolin puffed out his chest in an attempt to appear more intimidating. She shook her head in disbelief that he actually thought that he had a chance of beating her. “Alright, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She stepped up on the pedestal, facing opposite to Bolin, before pulling her fists up to her chest. While settling their stances, Y/N sent a sly wink in his direction, confusing him further—causing him to completely miss the ring of the starting bell.

Bolin ducked, feeling the crisp wind from the flying rock slab touch his hair. He continued to dodge attack after attack, sending an equal amount of stone in Y/N’s direction as she was in his. His skill was impressive and undeniable, but also equal to his opponent’s.

“Fight back, you coward!” Y/N screeched amidst her attacks. She was beginning to feel as if she was losing valuable energy while being the only player on the attack. Bolin hadn’t made a single move that couldn’t be defined as defense, choosing only to avoid her marks.

In her frustration, Y/N’s advances had grown sloppy. She’d become less focused and precise, and more upset and angry. Her emotions were very obviously conveyed through her bending, Bolin taking note of her current emotional status.

He finally made his move, seeing his opportunity and thrusted one first in her direction. Unfortunately for him, Y/N made her move at the exact same time, causing both benders to be thrown from the platform.

The thin discs collided between them, becoming nothing but pebbles and dust in the thick air. Fog shrouded their surroundings, restraining them from seeing four feet in front of them—their only idea of what had happened being the moderator’s booming voice.

Well, what do we have here folks? Our very first and unbelievable championship tie, thanks to the outstanding performances today by the Wolf-Bats and the Fire Ferrets!

Gasped filled the stands as the fog dispersed, revealing a dumbstruck Bolin and a fuming Y/N. She huffed dramatically, her face the shade of a red tomato, and marched towards Bolin, pointing her finger at him accusingly.

“I can’t believe you!” She screamed, throwing her hands in the air. She lunged forwards, slightly pushing Bolin away before continuing her rant. “You only sent one attack! One—and somehow that makes me lose the entire game? No!”

“All you did was stand there! You don’t deserve this win, I do!”

Bolin gulped, feeling his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. As much as he liked to say that he couldn’t stand Y/N, that she gave him immense anger and frustration, that didn���t make him any less afraid of her.

“All I did was play the game.” He defended, genuinely frightened by her overwhelming negativity. Bolin stumbled back, taking one hand and scratching the back of his neck in awkwardness, before saying something that was better left unsaid. 

“At least I’m not just some gold digger who only wins when I bribe the ref.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped at his accusation, shocked that those words were able to come out of Bolin’s mouth. Bolin, who was supposedly the most kind and understanding person in the entire city. “What did you just say to me?”

Bolin pursed his lips, refusing to say more in fear of making the entire situation worse. Luckily for him the chittering and cheers of the crowd drowned out their argument, the only people listening being their teammates who were standing by in silence.

“I could beat you with or without a bribe,” Y/N challenged, trying to save the little dignity she had left. While she hated to hear Bolin’s accusation, there were parts of it that were true. Would she really be able to win without a little help from up above? Or was she just a washed out player with no real talent?

Pushing her hesitations aside, Y/N took another step closer to Bolin. She smirked as she saw him shake nervously at the absence of space between them. “Tomorrow night, just you and me, in the town square for our rematch.”

Before Bolin could accept or deny her offer, static filled the arena. Electricity fizzled throughout the stands, causing police offers to drop like flies. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as the barely made out the masked figures standing in the audience above unconscious guests.

Electric gloves coated their arms, forcing innocent bystanders to surrender to them and their unjust and self-righteous cause. The Equalists stood as one in a circle around the seats, confidence and selfishness rang off of their looks.

Y/N trembled in fear—fear of losing the thing that mattered most to her, her bending. “Is that?” She trailed off, afraid that if she spoke his name aloud, it would make the moment even more real.

“Amon!” Bolin’s voice boomed in her ear, along with the sound of explosions. The dome above the entire arena had been destroyed, fragments and shards of glass nailed down onto the guests and players. Y/N’s eyes widened, her body was frozen in place, not nearly bracing itself for the inevitable impact.

She could faintly make out a voice shouting, “Y/N! Get out of the way!”, before being grabbed like a rag doll. Y/N felt weightless in the air, falling from the playing field and into the still water below. Her head was forced underwater by a large hand whilst glass continued to rain from the sky.

Y/N hurriedly swam towards the surface of the deep pool, gasping for air and spitting the contaminated water from her mouth. She flailed her arms like a flying lemur with its head cut off in an attempt of adjusting to her new surroundings and environment.

“Watch where you throw those things!” An unexpectedly high pitched voice groaned from behind her back. The boy behind the noise grabbed her untamed hands and held her body close—Y/N assumed he must’ve been making sure there were no Equalists lurking at the bottom of the arena.

After a moment of silence, Y/N craned her neck to see who had saved her from the blast of the explosion. Her expression of gratitude quickly turned to one of annoyance as she saw that it was just Bolin, who she realized was still holding her to his chest.

“Bolin.” She struggled to escape from his grasp, wriggling and kicking his legs in the dark water. “Will you please get your hands off of me? I am capable of swimming, too.”

With her request, Bolin immediately let go of his hold on her, his strong arms ejecting themselves out of his tight embrace. He swam beside her, the earthbenders wading towards the platform connected to the finishing pool that led to the back exit doors of the arena.

“Do you think they’ll be alright up there?” Bolin asked, nervously twiddling his fingers together. His face was distraught, feelings of uselessness overcame his thoughts. “I know Korra and Mako are strong and can definitely handle themselves, but I feel like I should be helping at least a little—”

“Don’t think like that.” Y/N interrupted him, seeing the stress that had drowned out his natural optimism. She gave him a small smile, the corners of her lips rising slightly in an attempt to comfort his nerves. “Your only job right now is to stay alive.”

Bolin took a deep breath, seriousness taking over his features. “You make it sound so easy,” he shuddered, letting his clenched fists relax. “Staying alive is so much hard work. One of these days I’m going to end up as the main course in the Triple Threat barbecue.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his ridiculousness. It felt good to lighten the mood with a small joke, and Bolin always had humor to share—and much as she liked to despise him, he could be quite funny sometimes—maybe even a little cute.

She raised her right arm, touching his shoulder affectionately, and gave him a real hug. One where her arms wrapped entirely around his body, comfortably sitting above his waistline. It felt right to be in his arms. Perhaps she’d been wrong about Bolin in all their time knowing each other.

Bolin peered over he shoulder in the middle of their first mutual embrace, ensuring that they were safe in their current position. “I don’t see any signs of Equalists down this hall.” He whispered, motioning for Y/N to follow behind him.

The two earthbenders quietly snuck through and around the twists and turns of the underground passageways while the battle above them could still be heard. Chaos and cries for help echoed down the metal halls. Y/N shivered at the thought of what might’ve happened to her if Bolin hadn’t saved her in time.

Considering Y/N had never been one with the skill of hiding her emotions, Bolin took great notice of the fear that had overcome her. He internally fought a long hard battle with himself, before ultimately deciding to put his ego aside.

Bolin reached for Y/N’s hand, taking her’s in his own. He gave her a heartwarming smile, his grin toothy and pure. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier,” he shrugged, sighing quietly before taking in another breath. “I was really angry and I know that’s no excuse.”

“I have absolutely no idea what your life is like outside of the games, and it was totally uncool of me to even assume anything about you. Can we just move on?”

Y/N snorted in amusement at Bolin’s innocence and purity. She took her hands, while still in his, to her mouth. She pressed a light kiss to his knuckles before letting go. Bolin stared at her in awe, surprised but welcome to the new development that their relationship had taken.

As he struggled to say a single word in response to her kiss, the two rivals had already reached the service doors that lead into the outside, and hopefully safe, world. Y/N pushed the exit open, holding it so Bolin would be able to escape as well.

“I guess this is where we part ways,” she grimaced, realizing that after tonight, they’d go back to their old routine of cat and mouse. Y/N didn’t know what to think of Bolin, but she definitely had a different perspective than she did when she woke up in the morning.

Bolin was quiet for a moment before his face lit up in excitement. He raised his eyebrows at Y/N, wiggling them for a moment in an attempt to make her laugh, which he succeeded in. “What do you mean part ways?”

“We still have our rematch tomorrow night!”

TAGS: @practicallylivesonline @cherryskyies @shell-bells-ringding @xapham​ @mochminnie​ @bombardia​

[atsunflower]

Semi Eita x Reader

Rated: SFW — Angst, cursing, traffic accident, injury descriptions, slight mentions of anxiety and post traumatic stress. 

Word count: 2070

Author notes: and here is the second part of our F.L.Y collab. I want to thank all the girls from Knights of the coconut and in particular, both @mooshua and @neonghxst who were pretty patient with me and helped me a lot throughout this process. You guys are amazing and I can't thank you enough. I guess that's all. Please enjoy your reading!

F.L.Y Masterlist

If this can no longer resonate/ No longer make my heart vibrate/ Then like this may be how/ I die my first death

He felt suffocated as the breath hitched on his throat.

Staring at his hands, the male recalled how said limbs brought the best time of his life:

A setter position at Shiratorizawa Volleyball club.

A desk job at the public department.

A promise as a rising star along his band, under a label with a contract too good to be true.

Roaming through his memories, he remembers that every single one of his  achievements were accompanied by lights:

The reflectors on the court.

The white lamps from his office.

The blinding lights from the stage.

Once had he everything he wanted. Now it was all out of his grasp — And lights, very similar to the last ones, now plagued his thoughts.

After all, he remembers when they blinded him before the car came crashing onto his body. Chills ran down his spine every time he recalled how the headlights of the vehicle were the last thing he saw before blacking out.

All it took was one second and then, a month at the hospital that turned into a lifetime of pain — it took only an accident for his life never be the same again.

"Maybe this is what they call first death" He muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter in his mouth as he took on his surroundings.

The constant tapping the secretary made on the keyboard left his nerves on edge and, added to the sterile scent hanging on the air, it felt like a reminder of the folder that sat heavy on his lap. In addition, the curious, pitying, eyes trained to his figure did nothing to soothe his anxiety.

Well, it's not everyday you see a rockstar sitting in a clinic waiting room, after he almost died, the man mused in distaste.

"Semi Eita?" The voice called from the door across the lounge. There, a male stood eyeing him as he made his way to the office.

The room was spacious, with a desk, cabinets, a stretcher and some anatomic models. A typical physiotherapist office, he guessed — not like Semi had ever been into one before, though.

"Make yourself comfortable, Semi-san" The brunette said as he organized some papers on the desk surface "I see it's your first time here. I'm Ennoshita Chikara, the physiotherapist who will take care of your condition from now on" They both shook hands as Semi sat on the chair. He cursed internally as he felt no force on his right hand.

"So, what brings you here today, Semi-san?" Ennoshita asked, eyeing Semi's right hand.

The grey haired male gulped before handing the folder to the physiotherapist.

"Here, this is the medical report. Shirabu-sensei made sure to specify everything regarding my hand." The brunette hummed before taking it. Semi couldn't muster up the courage to talk about his condition.

"I know, Semi-san. But I need to hear it for the history taking and you may know acceptance can help you through the recovery process" The apologetic tone made him sick.

"I don't want to talk about it. Could you please just proceed with the therapy?"

"Look, I know it's a sensitive topic but—" The therapist was interrupted mid sentence when Semi stood. The chair screeched on the floor at the sudden movement before the male tried to snatch the folder from the other.

Tried. 

The paper sheets scattered on the floor, since he couldn't take a proper grip on them.

Tears of frustration welled up on his eyes, as he murmured a meek apology only to storm out of the place.

Semi Eita felt the pitying eyes following him all the way back to his house.

At home, he felt in peace.

No sympathetic gazes and no condescending words. Just him alone with his own demons.

I need a bath. And a beer, the gray haired man decided as the weak hand carded through his hair locks. He flinched at the touch, feeling how dull it was — tactless, even. Just a bundle of flesh and bones hanging from his wrist. Nothing like it used to be.

Ignoring the pang on his chest, the man walked through the corridor. By his left, he saw a shining glass door and immediately, a sensation of longing crawled up his spine and clawed at his heart. He opened the tinted surface, entering the room.

The music studio was the same way he left on the accident day: the gray hoodie thrown over the chair, the paper cups of coffee scattered over his desk and the Moleskine with the lyrics he wrote that night. They resembled three months of hard work and the whole place, a sanctuary built of his dreams.

Too bad the room now felt like his own private purgatory.

Running his index finger over the notebook's leathery spine, memories invaded his mind. Regret gnawed on him even though he wasn't at fault — well, who would have predicted that going to get cigarettes late at the night would end up in a near-death experience? Who would've guessed that, on the way back to his condo, a drunk fucker would hit him with his car and vanish from the scene, without calling an ambulance?

If the medical help came sooner, would things be different? He often wondered, even though he knew it couldn't be helped. His friend, doctor Shirabu, said the damage on his arm was too extensive with a chance of recovery little to nonexistent. His heart stopped beating when he heard those words.

Looking back at it, Semi Eita regretted getting out of his house for such a trivial thing. Before, the musician had his dreams to push him through. Now, all he had left was a medical report — written in a horrendous handwriting, if he may add — stating that patient Semi Eita suffered a minor brain damage and multiple broken bones that caused a lower motor neuron syndrome with wallerian degeneration on the median nerve of his right arm — he didn't understand a shit about the medical terms, but he knew it was bad. Well, it's not like paralysed fingers in the form of 'the hand of benediction' could be a good outcome of an accident.

Benediction? More like a curse, he scowled.

Snapping out of his internal turmoil, brown orbs wandered over the music studio, eyeing all his equipment, as the man drowned on the nostalgic feeling.

On the far corner of the room, white tiles smiled at him — Though, it wasn't a sign of sympathy: in the far corner of the room, the black piano was smiling in mockery, as if it laughed at him, knowing his condition.

You'll never play again, The piano said

"I know!" He retorted.

Your career is dead, the piano chanted.

"I know!"

So pitiful, it snickered — and that was the last straw before despair washed through his body.

Semi spotted the electric guitar by his left. Grabbing the instrument by its neck, he threw it at the other. The wooden body crashed onto the keyboard, the ivory keys agonized at the violence.

Not that he cared, though. He was hurting a lot more than the piano did.

And the tears running down his face were proof enough of it.

Absorbed in his self-conscious state, he didn't see you entering the room, eyes roaming over the mess he made.

"Oh my, Eita!" And his body crashed into yours, sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Eita, love" You said softly, testing the waters.

"Get out" He pleaded weakly, both of you still slumped over the carpet of his studio. Your boyfriend stopped crying long ago, but sorrow still covered his face.

The sight was heartbreaking.

"You know I won't" You said, holding him tighter.

"[Name], get the fuck out!" He said an octave louder, pushing you away "The last thing I want now is your pity. And I don't want you to see me like this, either" Ever the proud man he was, hatred laced his voice — and even though you knew it wasn't directed at you and that he didn't mean it, it still hurted.

"I won't leave you. And I don't pity you" You sincerely stated.

"So why the fuck you're looking at me like this?" Hazel irises squinted at you, the hands clutching your shoulder tightened their grip — the hold on your right felt a lot more stronger.

"I'm worried" And then, he laughed.

Hysterically.

Almost scaringly.

"Why waste your time, huh?" You tried to retort, he beated you to it.

"Why bother with a failure for a boyfriend, hm?"

"Eita"

"What's left to you, huh? I bet you're leaving me now that my fucking career went downhill and I won't be famous anymore" The venom of his words scorched your ears.

Throwing insults at you, Semi didn't measure his words and nor did you measure your actions. A second after, all the two of you felt was the stinging flesh.

Of your hand.

Of his cheek.

"So you'll just sit here and cry?" You grabbed him by the collar, eyes boring into his "Shirabu himself said there was a chance. Are you giving up this easily?"

"Shirabu said there was a slight chance" He corrected you, saliva was sprayed over your skin when he screamed at your face.

"And you'll just take it, giving up without a try?" You were so done. The Semi you knew wasn't a spineless man who gave up so easily.

"You don't know how it feels!" He cracked again, the cry went past his mouth, wavering on the air. Your features softened as your hands moved upwards, cradling his face.

"I don't" The words came ragged "But please, don't give up without pulling out a good fight. You're not acting like yourself"

"It's just so hard. You don't get how empty I feel" The man before you was nothing like your Eita.

"For fuck's sake, Eita. Try the surgery and if it doesn't work, wait for the physical therapy results. If it still doesn't work, learn to play with the other hand, goddammit" You leaned onto him, joining your foreheads "Just don't give up. Back to our Shiratorizawa years, you said you wanted to rely on your own strength to show you abilities, because you desire to do things were always too strong. You prided yourself for being free when showing off, then why are you letting this situation hold you down?"

"It's hard. It's like I'm dying, but feels much more worse than that" Words came in a whisper, still reluctant to consider the options.

"But did you die? Did your talent die?" You lightly shook his body, trying to infuse some energy into it "Did you, all of sudden, forget how to make music?" And he saw determination painted in the hue of your irises.

"But—" He tried to argue.

"No buts, even if you can't play in the band, you can still be a producer. Don't let life reap your art away from you" You pleaded, hoping your words could somehow touch him.

Peeking into his face, you observed its features softening as you felt his muscles relaxing under your palms and your boyfriend reciprocating your loving touches.

Your heart was finally at ease.

"How come you always know what to say in the right time, even if it's cliché as fuck?" Eyelids covered the orbs you loved so much as the words were spoken in a serene mode. 

Semi Eita felt peace.

You tucked the broader body inside of your arms, caressing the lean muscles of his shoulders.

"There's a reason why, other than my pretty face, I'm your muse" He playfully scoffed at you, tightening the hold on your waist.

"Who said you are?" You ignored his words, paying attention to the hair locks under your chin "[Name]?" He started uncertain.

"Hm?"

"You're right. Guess if I didn't die in the accident, it's only fair if I don't let my life as an artist go away either" His soft-spoken words meant everything to you.

Relief washed over you as your heartbeat increased in your chest. But the most important was how you could feel Semi's heart beating again.

I'm in my workroom, it's my studio/ The waves go darkly by in a throe/ But I'll never get dragged away again

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