imslightlycreative - Tumblr blog

imslightlycreative · 3 years ago

Text

Duraani, burc'ya?

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 4.0K

Summary: “Please come. Bring the Foundling and your companion. We expect your arrival posthaste.” Mando receives a holo message from the Armorer, and brings you with him to a new covert, putting a halt to your search for the Jedi. Although it begs the question; what happens when you bring an outsider to a Mandalorian covert?

Chapter 1 of the Shereshoy sister series | Series Masterlist | Ch. 2

Warnings: very poor Mando’a translations (mainly unconjugated verbs, incorrect word orders, idk guys it’s a fictitious language, work with me here), canon-level injury descriptions, it’s from a previous event though, Mando being too cute for his own good, Grogu is a precious bean

AN: “There will, in fact, be a romance at some point. We slow-burn like a rotisserie chicken.” This is a sister fic to Courting a friend of mine wrote based on this request, where our favorite party of three is at a covert and the reader gets courted by another Mando. I absolutely adore her fic, she’s put in so much work into all of these chapters, and I’m so excited to finally share it with you guys!! She’s not finished yet, but she’s got lots of ideas for chapters to come, and they’re very nice. Comment, reblog, shower this in love so she can see that I haven’t been lying to her about how good it is 😂 Enjoy! 💖

Translations:

Alor: leader. Beskar’game: armors. Buy’cese: helmets. Vode: brothers/sisters. Mando’ade: Mandalorians, the sons and daughters of Mandalore. Buire: parents. Aruetii/aruetiise: outsider(s), foreigner(s). Cinyc’bora: (approx.) “cleaning job”

Artwork from @totallyshiny

“Please come. Bring the Foundling and your companion. We expect your arrival posthaste.”

The holo fades out.

“Who was that?” you ask. Mando turns in his pilot’s chair to look at you, holding the Child against your hip, standing in the entryway of the cockpit.

“The Alor, the leader of the covert—the armorer you met, when we were escaping Nevarro,” he tells you.

A few weeks had passed since your departure from the planet, after taking down Moff Gideon and his battalion of soldiers. Mando had been quested by the Armorer to find the Child’s people, and return him to them. Who and what his people are is still a mystery to the two of you— there aren’t many places to look for Jedi, and even fewer who have information about them. You haven’t found any solid leads since leaving, and you’re getting desperate.

“The Armorer?” you ask, surprised. “Did she… finish her work on Nevarro?” You remember back to that meeting— a jumble of beskar’game and buy’cese, all shapes, sizes, and colors in a heap outside of her forge. You couldn’t tell how many individuals there were, but any amount was too many. The Mandalorians were too small of a people, their losses were felt by all. Witnessing Mando clutch a helmet in between his hands tore at your heart, you could feel his pain morphing into rage when he spoke to Karga, his tone bitter— Is this the work of your bounty hunters? Only for the Armorer to reveal herself, and opting to stay behind when Mando asked her to leave. I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains.

After escaping, it had dawned on you that your party had only seen the pile of armor— no bodies. The Armorer had to find the remnants of her vode, remove their armor, bury them, and work to reforge the beskar once more for a new generation of Mando’ade.

Alone.

“Yes. She’s found a safe planet to settle for now, with Mandalorians from another tribe. Sivoh. Outer Rim planet.” He turns his back to you, punching the coordinates into the console.

You were the Mandalorian’s sole crewmate before the Child arrived, working as a make-shift factotum. Having a generalist set of skills has always been helpful in this brutal galaxy, but some of the niche knowledge you possess proved useful for Mando. You were one of the few mechanics he had met with a more-than-casual interest in Pre-Imperial ships, knowing the Razor Crest and its quirks better than he did at times. Since he was constantly on the move to provide for his tribe as a bounty hunter, the Crest had already endured a great deal of wear and tear when the two of you met. After you were able to diagnose and repair his ship far faster and cheaper than any port technician available, he offered to employ you.

I could use a crewmember of your ability— I can pay handsomely. How could you say no?

Your friendship was forged when he stumbled back onto the Crest one night, unconscious man over his shoulder, and a nasty gash to his side. After placing the bounty in carbonite, you offered your help in cauterizing his wound, the pain and awkward angle preventing him from treating it himself effectively. With cauterizer in hand, you quickly discovered your disdain for the smell of burning flesh, and opted to stitch his wound instead. It wasn’t perfect, but it bought you both enough time to get bacta when you finally returned to Nevarro, preventing the wound from becoming infected, and allowing Mando to quickly return to his work.

After that incident, he started to talk to you more, going as far as joking with you on occasion. The first time he laughed felt like a dream— a man as reserved as him sharing his joy with you felt like a unique honor. Everyone else knew him as Mando, the one who made everyone’s heads turn as he walked past. The one with the quickest draw— the one who’s bad side you want to stay away from. But to you? He was Mando, not just your employer, but your friend. The one who drank a surprising amount of caf, and took frequent naps in the pilot's chair, arms crossed, and head tilted to the left. The one who has protected you on multiple occasions. The one who almost died to save a child. And once the little one arrived, both you and Mando practically became his parents— his buire.

From there, your friendship morphed to a sort of companionship. The three of you spent many hours in the cockpit together— most often in silence, just enjoying one another’s company, but a great deal of time was also spent playing with the Child together. You almost felt like a little family. It was routine for you to doze off in the copilot’s chair with the Child curled against you, and for Din to eventually wake you and send you to your sleeping mat for the night. Even with the bounty hunters keeping you on the move, the three of you had a strange sense of peace in each other’s presence.

Despite all of the time you had spent together, he had never taken you to his covert on Nevarro. He never even gave an inkling of where it could be, not that you would ever ask. You understood why— “Our secrecy is our survival. Our survival is our strength” he once told you. You knew nothing about his covert or tribe until that fateful day on Nevarro, running through the underground tunnels in the hopes of finding his people to escort you to safety. It was there you met the Armorer, now Alor, where she granted him his signet, deeming him and the Child as a Clan of Two— your exclusion from his clan bringing a weight to your chest you didn’t quite understand at the time.

Entering the cockpit, you make your way to Mando, extending the Child out towards him, which he gladly accepts. With the Child settled in Mando’s arms, you plant yourself in your spot, the copilot’s seat, before finally speaking once more. “Aren’t the locations of your coverts a secret?... Am I even allowed to be there?” you ask him, with a slight uncertainty in your voice.

Without looking at you, he coolly states, “Yes.”

Wonderful reassurance, Mando.

Unconvinced, you continue; “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude. I could stay at the ship while you and the Child are there, it wouldn’t be a problem,” you suggest, feigning confidence. It definitely would not be the first time you had to stay alone in the ship for an indeterminate duration. The days (and sometimes weeks) without Mando became easier when the Child arrived. While the little one wasn’t able to communicate with you verbally, you grew to understand his needs, and his presence brought a new sense of life to the Crest that made the durasteel walls feel a little less cold. If remaining behind once again was a necessity, you would understand— but being without either of them would be hard.

Before you’re able to delve too deep into that train of thought, Mando dismisses the idea. “That won’t be necessary.” He says, calmly. He turns around to look at you once more, hoping to get through to you. “The Alor requested I bring both you and the Child. Where I go, you both go.” Despite not being able to see his eyes, it’s hard to keep your gaze on his. His tone becomes flat— “This is the Way.”

That signature phrase, you had learned early on, was an easy way for Mando to cease a conversation he did not want to continue. Prodding further always results in a dramatic sigh, and an irritated Mando. After a moment, you let go of the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, and nod at him. He turns his seat towards the console again, the two of you enjoying the silence together as the stars whizz by.

—

Falling asleep in the copilot’s chair is always a poor decision— one that is guaranteed to result in a lot of neck pain. But instead of the ache awakening you, it’s Mando’s voice, softly saying your name. Once you open your eyes, he places the Child back into your lap, and you instinctively pull the little one closer to cuddle.

“We’re nearly there,” he says, kneeling in front of you. He pauses, hesitant to speak again, tilting his head to the side and looking back at you. “Mandalorians are very...close-knit.” This isn’t news to you. But why is he making a point to say that? He takes a deep breath, and continues. “We don’t take well to aruetiise—outsiders. Some of them... may not be kind to you. When we arrive, stay close to me.” This is a tone of voice you don’t quite recognize. You had traveled with him to dangerous places before, his usual command of “stay close” was one you grew to expect. Those times, you could hear hints of fear laced in each word. But now, he almost sounds guilty. What’s the worst that could happen, Mando?

Rather than questioning him, you groggily reply with “Okay,” and begin to stand up. “Is there anything I can do while we’re there? To help out? I don’t… want to impose—especially if I’m there under special circumstances.” His head darts towards you, and for a second, you’re afraid you’ve said something wrong.

He stares at you for a moment, before finally answering. “You ask that question around the wrong people and you’ll be stuck with the cinyc’bora the whole time.” It takes a moment before you recognize the lightness in his voice… you’re making jokes, now, Mando? His attempt to ease your nerves brings out a small laugh from you, before he continues. “I’m sure there’s plenty we will both do. Don’t worry for now. Pack your things.” He exits the cockpit, leaving you and the Child alone.

—

Sivoh is beautiful. Dense, coniferous forests, with streams and natural lakes as far as your eyes can see. It reminds you of many parts of your home planet— composed of an array of diverse ecosystems and climates, ranging from rolling hills of scorching, neverending sand, to cold tundras of snow and frozen soil.

Mando lands the Crest on the edge of a meadow, one overflowing with grasses and wildflowers unlike any other. You step out— the air is cool and crisp. You hear the songs of the many birds around you, and the croaks of the toads; closing your eyes allows you to feel the gentle breeze swaying the trees, the old wood creaking as it oscillates. You take a deep breath, and open your eyes to see the Child extending his arms upward towards you, his silent way of asking to be picked up.

You kneel down to meet him, placing a hand atop his wrinkled head, smiling when he gives a soft coo in response. You point behind him, gesturing to a small patch of white flowers, which he gladly toddles his way towards. As the Child often does, he picks one blossom, and tries to put it in his mouth. Hoping to prevent another stomach ache from his habit of eating everything he finds, you take him into your arms and rise up, distracting him from his task.

You turn back around to face the ship, seeing Mando step onto the ramp with your bag slung over his shoulder. You smile, walking towards him. The Child coos again, looking at his other buir, and holds the little flower out to him. You’re too sweet, little guy. Mando tilts his head as he looks at the Child, “What do you have, kid?” There’s a hint of concern in his voice, as Mando is used to the little one always getting a hold of all the things he shouldn’t.

The Child reaches his little arm out further. Mando gives a small chuckle, and takes the bud from his little fingers. You hear him give a contempt sigh, and envision a smile hiding underneath his helmet. He steps closer to the two of you to place his hand atop the little one’s head, running his thumb back and forth over it. He’s silent for a moment, simply watching the Child. “We have a long walk ahead, buddy—” Mando looks up to you, and slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face, brushing your hair away, and tucking the flower behind your ear. “I’m gonna have her hold onto this for now.”

You’re taken aback by his affectionate gesture— your eyes widening, you’re forced to look away from him, using your hand to cover your embarrassed smile. Behind his helmet is a smug grin, pleased with your reaction. He removes his hand from the Child’s head, and nods his head to the side, gesturing to you to start walking. You can’t help but to be flustered as you quickly follow behind him.

The trek from the ship to the covert isn’t long, despite what Mando told the Child. Sivoh seems to be small, with small villages that are few and far between, and the forest you’re trekking through does not have difficult terrain. You’re carrying the Child in your arms, and Mando is still carrying your packed items, leading the way. The three of you walk in relative silence, enjoying the nature around you— your nerves growing the closer you get to your destination. You have no idea what to expect— who you’ll encounter, how you’re supposed to act, or what they’d expect of you. Your only encounter with the Alor was at the worst of times— you didn’t know what kind of an impression you had made on her.

As you crest over a small hill, you see the entrance of the covert. The entrance seems to be an opening to a cave— jagged volcanic rock along its edges, almost creating a canopy over the large metal door— inset into the walls and ceiling of the lava tube. For a group of people that want to remain hidden, living in a cave seems like the best option.

In the front, stand two Mandalorians, seemingly on guard, awaiting your arrival.The first one is strikingly tall, somewhere around 6’6”. Other than their height, the most notable distinction is their helmet— the trim around the visor colored a rich, burnt orange— and their forest-green colored pauldrons with the image of a Nexu, presumably their signet. The second one is not quite as unique. They are about your Mando’s height, but possess a curved visor on their helmet that reminds you of the Alor.

You stand behind your Mando, holding the Child to your chest, listening to him speak to the guards in Mando’a.

While he had explained words and phrases occasionally, he never explained everything he said to you. Trying to understand anything in this conversation seems impossible. Mando already sounds frustrated, but continues to stand his ground. If the Alor requested us, why are they giving him grief?

I should have stayed on the ship. You try to keep your eyes locked on your Mando— but in your peripherals, you notice the tallest Mando staring at you. Or at least, regardless of who is speaking, his visor is locked onto you. You tense up, turning your body a little to subtly shield the Child. None of them would hurt him, Mando’s voice echoes in your mind— The Foundlings are the future— but you’re not going to let any of them take your child from you, whether or not they bar you from entry.

The conversation continues, but none of them are particularly expressive in their tone, which does nothing to ease your anxiety. The tallest one refuses to look away. The intense scrutiny of their glare is starting to fill you with adrenaline— your body preparing for a fight you most definitely would not win. You try to refocus on Mando’s words, hoping that it’ll distract you, maybe ease your worries— that you might be able to pick out any familiar phrases.

The Mando with a curved visor finishes their monologue, sounding none too pleased, uttering the word you dreaded the most.

Aruetii.

And in this moment, nothing else made you feel like more of an outsider.

After what feels like an eternity, Mando looks back to you. “Come on.” he says quietly, wrapping his arm around you, like a protective shield, the Child nestled between the two of you. He rests his hand at the small of your back— both pulling you towards him and gently pushing you forward. The tallest Mando continues to watch you as you enter, never looking away until the large doors slam behind you loudly. You flinch and gasp in surprise, your heart racing. It feels like you’ve spent the last half hour running for your life; your skin tingling with anxiety, your legs like gelatin.

You look to the ground, trying to even your breaths. Nothing happened, but being stared down at like prey shot your heart rate through the roof. Behind the safety of the doors, you can breathe again. Mando slowly reaches his other hand to you, grasping onto your face and pushing your chin up to look at him. “Everything’s fine,” is all he says, trying to calm you down. He waits for you to respond, giving him a nod, before continuing forward.

He leads the three of you down the corridor, never letting his hand leave your back. You pass beneath a large mythosaur skull on the lintel, and the gravity of where you are starts to sink in.

I should have stayed on the ship.

As you traverse deeper into the cavernous system, the louder it begins to grow. There’s metal clanking, Mandos yelling— it all feels like too much. Looking through different entryways reveals more dark passages to places unknown. Even further down you find a cookhouse, a training area, and a med center, but every place you pass is teeming with T-shaped visors following you as you walk with the Child and Din.

You know his name. He didn’t tell you. His name was revealed to you, and everyone else, during the attack on Nevarro. It doesn’t feel right to use it—he never told you that you can, and the last thing you want to do is jeopardize your professional and personal relationship with Din by assuming you’re allowed the privilege. But at the same time, him bringing you to such a secret and sacred place, full of other Mando’ade—his people, calling him “Mando” seems almost too impersonal now. As if he could be mistaken as anyone else here, which to you, couldn’t be further from the truth.

At the end of the corridor lies a single room, with a large forge at the center, and the sounds of metal slamming together filling the hall as you approach. As you enter, Din gestures for you to sit on the floor, and he joins you, silently. He rests his hands on his thighs, and looks forward; you mimic his actions, holding the child on your thighs. The three of you sit together, and watch the Alor craft a new set of beskar'gam—armor— perhaps for a recent foundling who has finally come of age.

It’s almost therapeutic— watching her as she crafts, her skill and artistry coming to life as she slams her hammer onto the beskar. This allows you to finally calm down, feel a sense of ease. When she finishes, she places the bender on her workbench, turns to face you, and slowly approaches. She kneels down, sitting across from the three of you, as Din places the credits from his most recent bounties onto the table between you. Always the provider, Din. This silent exchange almost seems like a ritual, these two performing on muscle memory— you wonder if this is what happens every time Din has returned from a hunt.

She takes the credits and sets them beside her, then places her hands on her legs. She observes you and Din for a moment before finally speaking. “The three of you will stay here for the time being.” She moves her hand to gesture to Din— “You will continue to gather information about the Foundling’s people, and will provide for the tribe.” She looks to you. “You are mechanically skilled?” What?

You did not expect her to speak to you, and quickly look to Din, hoping he will answer for you. When he remains silent, you look back to the Armorer, keeping your voice steady. “Yes. I’ve worked for Mando for quite some time. I am knowledgeable mainly in Pre-Imperial ships, but can work with most anything. I understand first aid and field aid, and have been a caretaker for his Foundling since he arrived.” You can’t help but to look down to the little one in your lap, seeking some kind of comfort in his presence.

“Very well. We have prepared private quarters for you to stay in. Please, settle in. It is good you are here.” Somehow, hearing that sentiment come from her, you almost believe it. She nods at Din, signaling the three of you to leave. He nods back— rises, bringing you with him, and leads you out.

—

The private quarters you are granted are small, but comfortable. Two large sleeping mats in two separate spaces, to allow for privacy; a common room, ‘fresher, and a small washing area for linens. You place your belongings on one of the mats, and turn to look back at Din, who is sitting with the Child on his sleeping mat. He’s holding onto one of Din’s fingers in his tiny little hand. That is unbelievably cute, little one.

Settling onto the floor, back against the wall, you sigh. Titling your head back until it meets the wall, you bring your hands to cover your face for a moment, slowly sliding them down until your fingertips meet your temples and eyes, making a point to rub the stress away. A nervous grin appears on your face, and a small bout of stress-induced laughter takes over.

“That was the most terrifying experience of my life, Mando,... Maker.” You take another deep breath, before the silence urges you to continue. “I thought— those first two did not seem pleased by my presence. Were they arguing with you? About me?”

Not moving from his position, he debates for a moment on how to respond. “It’s unusual for an outsider to be under our protection. The Alor didn’t tell them why you’re with me.” Not a complete answer, but I’ll take it. Before you can question him further, he swiftly changes the subject. “I’ll show you around the covert tomorrow. You can meet the mechs and the baar’ure—the medics.” He stands, walking towards you with the Child. “I’ll stay with you. You will be safe.” Din says, a sense of fatigue underlying his voice.

“I can’t imagine being in any true danger here. Your Alor basically said I was welcome.” You reply, smiling at him, hoping to ease his discomfort. And your own. “Is there anything I should know, before interacting with anyone tomorrow? I’d hate for… anyone else to be displeased with having me around.”

You hear a small chuckle from him as he kneels down to you, “Just be yourself, cyar’ika... You should rest. We may have a long day ahead of us.” He gently hands the Child to you, letting his hands linger on yours for a moment, before you both part your separate ways for the evening to prepare for bed.

You make your way to your sleeping mat, gently setting the Child down and changing into more comfortable clothing. Settling into bed, you curl yourself around the little one, pulling him close to cuddle for the night. Before finally committing to sleep, curled up under your blankets— you take a moment to watch Din, as he unfastens and removes his armor, stretching and flexing his seemingly sore muscles. He shuts off the lights, and you listen as a faint hiss and a light clank come from his space, followed by the quiet grunts he makes as he settles into his bed for the night.

—

Join the Taglist!

Taglist: @deceiverofgodss @janebby @lam-ila @dmward13 @weinersolider @detectivecarisi-1 @michalkal @hypnoash

Din Djarin: @spideysimpossiblegirl @cats-are-a-girls-bestfriend @gracesmusings @stardust-galaxies @torchbearerkyle @mandalorian-dindjarin

358 notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 3 years ago

Text

Masterlist

Pairing: Platonic!Avengers x Reader

Tags & Warnings: found family, humour, fluff, platonic relationships

Summary: Y/n, Ex-Hyrda Soldier/Undercover Shield Agent/Avenger, lives her days as the Avengers' housekeeper at the Compound. When she's not spending her entire day doing chores and picking up after the rowdy group of heroes, she lives her new life the best she can while finding herself in a whirlwind of shenanigans with her new family.

Total Word Count: 45.5k

A/n: All of these chapters stand alone and you don't have to read the story in chronological order to understand anything. Just read chapter 1, then whatever chapter you want to next.

Chapters

Chapter One: Who Did It?

Y/n spent the entire day picking up after the Avengers after they threw a party the night before. She was incredibly exhausted, and after making dinner, she was ready to just call it a day... Until someone decided not to follow the very simple rule of "Put used dishes in the sink after using them." Now Y/n was about to rain hell upon the Earth's greatest defenders.

Chapter Two: Sewing Circle

The Avengers walk in on Y/n teaching Peter how to embroider for his Home Economics project, and they decide to spend the day with each other embroidering. Because why not?

Chapter Three: Girls Night Out

The team has to leave for a last minute mission on the day of their monthly movie marathon, leaving Y/n alone. So, Y/n decides to have a girls night out with her favorite Avenger instead, but things take a turn and the night ends up bloodier than Y/n intended it to be.

Chapter Four: Sleepover

Y/n was ready to spend the night alone and get some well needed me-time at the compound when she's greeted by a few guests she forgot were supposed to be there.

Chapter Five: Happiest Place on Earth

Natasha was ready to have a day off after a long mission, but that plan is ruined when her family surprises her with a trip to Disneyland. She invites Y/n to tag along because it's the only way she'll get through it without alcohol.

Chapter Six: Blast To The Past

Bucky spends all his time inside watching the same movie over and over again, so Y/n takes him out and helps him feel like he's back home.

Chapter Seven: Once Upon A Time

Y/n is assigned to babysit all the kids, and they make her tell them the story of how she turned to the side of good when she was an undercover HYDRA agent.

Chapter Eight: The Bake Sale

Peter's Decathlon team doesn't have enough funding, so they do a bake sale for their school. Aunt May was supposed to make all the food for Peter's stall, but falls sick at the last second. Y/n comes in to save the day and even helps Peter with his Flash problem.

Chapter Nine: Star Spangled Woman

Y/n introduces Steve to RuPaul's Drag Race

1K notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter One: Who Did It?

Life As The Avengers' House Keeper

Pairings: Platonic! Avengers x Female Reader

Tags & Warnings: humour, fluff, found family

Chapter Summary: Ex-Hydra agent/Undercover Shield agent/Avenger turned house keeper, Y/n, spent the entire day picking up after the Avengers after they threw a party the night before. She was incredibly exhausted, and after making dinner, she was ready to just call it a day... Until someone decided not to follow the very simple rule of "Put used dishes in the sink after using them." Now Y/n was about to rain hell upon the Earth's greatest defenders.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/n: I don't usually write fics like this, but I'm a sucker for found family. Also, reader is really short cause I think it makes it funnier.

Tag List: @olsensnpm, @immathinkerg, @natasha-belova, @caroldanvers2

Chapters: I, II, III, IV, V, VI

Main Masterlist

—

The Avengers have gone through more than what any regular person could ever imagine. It felt as though everyday, they were putting their lives on the line to protect others, and they did it all with a brave face. Whether it be nazis, aliens, super soldiers; they defeated them all and saved the world more times than they could count.

They were heroes, the greatest hope of the Earth. There was nothing that could defeat them, and whenever they were brought down, they never hesitated to get back up. It was as if after everything they’ve seen, nothing could ever scare them anymore. In a way that was true. Very little scared the members of the Avengers. They almost feared nothing at all.

Except for one person.

“Who did it?”

The Avengers were lined up in the middle of the living room of the compound. Some had their arms crossed with a defensive look on their faces, some were avoiding eye contact and moving awkwardly. Either way, they were all forced to face the five foot two woman in front of them who was close to losing her shit.

She had spent the entire day cleaning up after Tony threw a party last night, then she had to carry all that damn laundry to the laundry room, which for some reason, was on the other side of the damn compound; then do grocery shopping because their fridge was completely cleaned out for the week, then she had to fold and distribute the clothes; then she spent three hours cooking dinner.

All she had to do was set the table and eat, then everything would be done. She could sleep, and everything would be fine. It was an incredibly stressful day, she just wanted to get it over with. But of course, something had to be wrong.

There was a missing glass from the cabinet and that completely ruined the table set up. She couldn’t find it anywhere and she has told this team of knuckleheads thousands of times over that after using a dish, they put it in the sink. Not even the dishwasher because she didn’t trust them to organize it properly. Of course, they stayed stubborn, and normally, Y/n would let it go.

But not today. She was looking to beat some ass.

So there she was, standing impatiently in front of the world’s strongest heroes, threatening them with a slipper. Behind her was a table set with perfectly good food that was getting colder by the second.

No one was allowed to eat until Y/n figured out which one of them was guilty for leaving a glass out.

“Peter?” The boy flinched and almost physically jumped at his name being called, hesitantly raising his head and meeting the woman’s eyes.

“I won’t get mad if it was you. Just be honest.” She said in a calming tone, though her still gripping a slipper in her hand didn’t do much to ease Peter’s nerves.

“It wasn’t me, I swear. I always wash the dishes after I use them like you told me to. I even dry them and put them back in the right cabinet right after intsead of using the dishwasher because that wastes money.” Peter whined, still very scared as he eyed the slipper in the woman’s hand.

“Alright, I believe you. You can eat.” Y/n said with a sigh, and Peter let out a breath of relief, a smile coming up to his face as he happily left the line and went to the dining table where food was prepared.

“Sam, Bucky.” Y/n called out and Sam let out an offended grunt.

“Why are you asking us?” He asked and Y/n raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why are you so defensive?” She countered and Sam looked away guiltily at the question.

“I can’t speak for Sam, but it wasn’t me. I have my own bottle I drink from. I never use the glasses.” Bucky said and Y/n stared at him down, trying to gauge whether or not the man was lying.

He stared back challengingly, though when Y/n tilted his head, he couldn’t help but clear his throat in awkwardness, his eyes going down to the floor. For such a stoic man who was known for his unwavering stare, it would be a shock to see him fall to the gaze of such a tiny woman. But it happened so often now that the rest of the team was used to seeing it.

“You can eat.” Y/n said and Bucky gave a grateful nod, walking over to the table with Sam trying his best to walk with him without drawing attention.

“Sam, you’re not off the hook yet.” Sam let out a groan, muttering about how it wasn’t fair as he went back in line.

“Rogers, you gonna diplomat your way out of this one?” Y/n asked, turning to the man who had his arms crossed with an amused look on his face.

“You saw me drinking earlier. You also saw me put the glass in the sink, so it wasn’t me.” Steve said, rather happy with his prepared alibi.

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t use a glass earlier. I see it all the time. Use one glass, put it in the sink, then take out a perfectly clean glass an hour later instead of using the one you already took. You’re not safe yet.” Y/n said, pointing the slipper at Steve who shook his head and raised his hands in defense.

“Natasha-”

“It was me.” Bruce spoke up with a shaky voice, but Y/n didn’t move her eyes from Natasha.

“No.” Y/n said in response to the scientist who opened his mouth to retort.

“But-”

“Bruce, sit your ass down.” Y/n interrupted, tilting her head over to the table.

Bruce glanced between Natasha and Y/n before letting out a sigh and reluctantly making his way over to the table so he could eat.

“What’s your excuse?” Y/n asked Natasha who had a stone cold look on her face, incredibly unreadable.

“I don’t drink a lot of water.” Natasha said and Y/n narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“I know, which is why we’re gonna have a talk later about your health. Now, get over there.” Y/n said and Natasha let out a sigh before she went over to the table, mumbling about how she was in perfectly good health.

“What do you have to say for yourself, old man?” Y/n asked, turning to Clint who let out a tired sigh. The one time he decides to stay over for the weekend, and he was already in the middle of another issue.

“Look, I live with three kids and a wife who likes to have the house in a very specific way. If someone’s gonna misplace a glass, it’s not me.” Clint explained and Y/n narrowed her eyes at him before relenting.

“Fine, but only because Laura always talks about how great you are at home.” The words made Clint smile and he happily went to eat dinner while texting his wife and teasing her about what Y/n said.

“Thing one and thing two.” Y/n said as she turned to face the twins. Pietro was sitting on the couch, staring at the food impatiently while Wanda had a confident look on her face.

“I’m the most organized person in this entire compound, and you know it, Y/n. I would never leave a glass out. I even took out all the dishes from the dishwasher and put them all back in the right place while you were out.” Wanda said and Y/n smiled happily at the girl.

“I know you did, and thanks so much for that. Go eat.” Y/n said in a kind tone. Wanda sent a cheeky grin to her twin brother and flipped him off with both fingers before going over to the table.

Pietro rolled his eyes, about to flip off his sister back when he caught the glare Y/n was sending his way.

“Y/n. Beautiful, kind, talented Y/n.” Pietro said with a sheepish grin.

“Did you leave a glass out?” Y/n asked, ignoring Pietro’s flattery.

“No.” The boy answered simply.

“I don’t believe you.” Y/n responded and Pietro let out a scoff, hands shooting up in disbelief.

“What do you want me to say? I didn’t do it.” Pietro said, but when Y/n showed no signs of believing him, he let out a huff and crossed his arms, pouting like a child.

“And then there were three.” Y/n said, looking at the remaining Avengers. Steve continued to look incredibly amused at the situation, Sam looked offended, while Pietro continued sulking.

“Time’s ticking, boys. They’re gonna finish all the food before I even think about letting you eat.” Y/n said, staring down the three.

“And what are you gonna eat, huh? You gonna starve like the rest of us?” Sam asked dramatically, pointing his finger at the woman who raised her eyebrow at it. Sam quickly put the finger down but continued his stance.

“I spent seven days locked in a cell with no food and water and still managed to survive. One night without dinner won’t kill me. Besides, I can cook whatever I want, whenever I want.” Y/n countered and Sam cursed under his breath.

“Damn, she’s good.” Sam said and Steve shook his head at the hilarity of the situation.

“Look, maybe depriving us of a meal isn’t the best way to sort this situation out. How about we discuss it formally over dinner like adults and get to the bottom of it there. You spent so much time making this dinner for us, Y/n. It’d be a waste if it wasn’t eaten by all of us.” Steve said, slowly approaching Y/n with his arms out.

“Kiss ass.” Sam muttered to Pietro who snickered. Y/n cleared her throat and glared at the two. Pietro slapped Sam’s shoulder to show that he was on Y/n’s side, but this only caused Sam to retaliate and the two began a back and forth fight of slapping each other, which Y/n rolled her eyes at.

“You make a very compelling case, Steve… But no, I’m standing my ground. Until you all learn how to follow the small amount of rules I ask of all of you, the next dinner you’re gonna be eating will be laced with poison.” Y/n said, pointing his finger and glaring at Steve.

“Hey, gang. What’s for dinner?” Everyone in the room turned to Tony who walked into the room. His hair was wet with a towel around his neck, and the man walked over to the water dispenser with an empty glass in his hand.

“What?” Tony asked, turning to the team with furrowed eyebrows when he realized everyone was staring at him in complete silence.

Y/n let out a deep breath from her nose, eyes closed as she tried to control her irritation. The Avengers watched with bated breath as Y/n went over to the fridge and pulled something out before going over to the pantry and pulling something else out.

She then walked back to Tony, snatching the glass in his hand while he was mid-drink, causing some of the water to splash on him.

“Hey!” He said in protest, but was cut off when Y/n shoved two things in his hand.

He looked down to see a tiny tub of microwaveable rice, along with a can of tuna in his hands.

“Enjoy your dinner, Tony.” Y/n said with a menacing smile before turning to Pietro, Steve, and Sam.

“Go on and eat, you three. You’re gonna run out.” Y/n said and there was a pause before everyone went back to their business.

Sam and Pietro quickly went over to the table and Steve went over to the dumbfounded Tony Stark who was looking in confusion at his “dinner” before glancing over to the whole meal prepared for the rest of them.

“You might want to go take a look at the rules list again, buddy.” Steve said, patting Tony on the shoulder before going over to the table.

“Anyone who feeds Tony is eating canned food for the next week.” Y/n called out from where she was before entering her room, the slamming of a door ringing through the air.

Y/n let out a sigh and went over to her bed, reaching into her side table and taking out a tupperware of mini donuts before grabbing a remote and turning on the tv.

It was a known rule in the compound that no one was allowed to eat on their beds, but Y/n was an exception to all the rules. Not just because she made them, either. Y/n was the one responsible for doing everything around the compound, the rules were simply to make things a bit easier on her.

If Y/n from a few years ago saw her now, she would think that she was some imposter and kill her on sight. But so much has changed during that time. From one of the best HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the field to the Avengers’ housekeeper.

She went from having a kill count of over two hundred people during her first year as an agent with a ninety-eight percent success rate on missions at the age of nine, to doing the Avengers’ dirty laundry every Sunday. She used to be a high level threat and if she lasted long enough, she would’ve been an Avengers level threat too. But now she helps out Spider-Man with his Home Economics homework every other weekend.

Sometimes Y/n finds herself thinking “What the hell am I doing?” Whenever she remembers that she could very much kill everyone in the compound without breaking a sweat. But just as fast as that thought came, it disappeared with a mere shrug.

That life was way behind Y/n. Old Y/n would think she was completely humiliating and a disgrace to everything she worked for if she saw her now, but present Y/n didn’t give a single shit. She liked her life now, and she meant that.

She never imagined herself picking up after the Avengers who, surprisingly, were the most reckless people when it came to self care. But here she was now, and she wasn’t complaining. Well, sometimes she did complain, but overall, it wasn’t a bad time.

Y/n had originally met the Avengers when they were formed, save for Clint and Natasha. She’s been there from the beginning; undercover HYDRA agent posing as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was then chosen for the Avengers initiative. It was supposed to be easy. Act like a hero and get all the information she could on them to help HYDRA take them down, along with anyone else who got in their way.

But she was compromised. Emotionally, at least. Even though Y/n had too much pride to admit it out loud, they all knew it. She had grown fond of them and didn’t particularly want to see any of them die. So, she indirectly helped Steve with the whole HYDRA situation at S.H.I.E.L.D.

When they realized Y/n was a member of HYDRA all along, they threw her in a cell and subjected her to a bunch of questioning. It took a really long time to get everyone to trust her again, but she found her way.

She ended up escaping her cell and went into hiding for an incredibly long time. Then the battle of Ultron came and she decided, eh, why not fight with them one last time against a bunch of murderous robots in a floating city? It was a good way to go.

But somehow, they all managed to get out of that alive. Realizing that Y/n really was a changed person, the Avengers decided they could keep her around. It was clear that she wasn’t the same person she was before and had no intentions of breaking their trust again.

They had offered Y/n her old job as an Avenger once more, and after thinking about it for a while, Y/n realized that she didn’t want to go back to fighting. The battle in Sokovia was more than Y/n ever bargained for, and she really was prepared to die then.

Y/n knew that if she stayed with the Avengers, things would be just like that, if not worse, and Y/n was tired. She had spent her whole life fighting; raised from the ground up to be nothing but a soldier meant to be ready to give up her life for a cause she never believed in.

But she didn’t want to leave them either. That time she spent laying low was one of the loneliest times in her life. The Avengers taught her what it meant to be a human instead of a weapon, and she owed them the world. She just wasn’t ready to pay that debt through more years of fighting.

During that time on the run though, Y/n learned one thing. She was damn good at housework. She had to keep herself occupied during that time alone, and Y/n spent most of it learning how to cook, clean, and everything else. It was relaxing to her because it kept her mind off of the bad things.

When the Avengers brought her to the new compound where there was always some new mess being made, Y/n felt like she was in a playground. So much to clean and Y/n was more than willing to do all of it.

Well, most of it. The compound was a huge place, Y/n wasn't about to clean all of that every single day. Even she had her limits. So they agreed to keep her services within the living area, and if Y/n was particularly bored, she could clean elsewhere if she so pleased.

Soon enough, it was decided. Y/n was going to be the Avengers’ housekeeper. They were a bit hesitant about it first. It didn’t really feel right to have an old member of the Avengers just clean up after them like a maid.

Though Y/n did threaten all of them that if they ever called her a maid, she’d kill them all in a heartbeat.

Years passed though, and Y/n continued being their housekeeper. Plus, the team grew and Y/n found herself a family. She was happier than ever, despite how annoying some of them could be. Being a worldly threat and deadly killer couldn’t compare to picking after these odd bunch of heroes.

Being the Avengers’ housekeeper changed her life for the better as she was introduced to things she never would have known had she stayed in HYDRA. It was no surprise that HYDRA didn’t care much for their agents. For a long time, she was living like a weapon and she never saw anything wrong with it, because she didn’t think there was any other way to live.

But then she became a part of the Avengers and they treated her like she was a real person. It took awhile, but the longer she stuck around with them, Y/n started believing that maybe she was human. She liked feeling human. She liked all the things the world had to offer, and she liked the feeling she got when she was around the Avengers.

So there she was, lying in her bed eating donuts while watching some children’s cartoons when just years ago, she was spilling blood without even a second thought.

Life was good.

1K notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 3 years ago

Text

🌹ACOTAR Cover ReDesign 🌹

For my photoshop final I need to redesign a popular book cover. I’m stuck between 2 options, and who better to help me decide than the ACOTAR fans?

(For my own egos sake I need everyone to know these are very basic sketches and I can indeed draw better than this)

Option 1:

Option 2:

Please vote in the comments!!!

(Thanks for the help!!!)

4 notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 5 years ago

Text

Miku ready for Coachella.

#miku #vocaloid hatsune #hatsune miku #coachella #weed #anime #green #art #digital art #miku hatsune #vocaloid #japanese #japanese idol #hatsune #singer #luka megurine #rin kagamine #len kagamine

108 notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 6 years ago

Text

My contribution to the Hazbin Hotel Fandom...

#hazbin hotel character #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie #charlie magne #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #ok boomer #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel art #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk

76 notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 6 years ago

Text

~Lilith~

The queen of hell.

Loving Hazbin Hotel so far! Gotta day the more I look into the more I fall in love, especially with new characters! Please leave a like and enjoy.

Character belongs not to be but to @vivziepop

#lilith #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel character #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel art

39 notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 6 years ago

Text

... Do you think if Toga drank someone’s period blood she’d turn into a dead baby...? I mean I know that’s not exactly what period blood is but what would happen?

#bnha imagines #bnah #bnha theory #bnha todoroki #mha todoroki #toga himiko #bnha toga #mha toga #anime #mha midoriya #mha present mic #mha season four #mha #blood #knifewife

15 notes · View notes

imslightlycreative · 6 years ago

Text

The Meaning of Midnight

A/N: First real fix so plz be (semi) nice! I will accept some advise tho. ;)

Summary: It’s Midnight’s 31st birthday, a day where she should feel happy for surviving another year of her dangerous life style. However instead she just gets hit with a bit of self-conscious.

____________________________________________________________________________

" Top story today happy birthday to the top hero known as Midnight!" The smiling young reporter said unaware that she was looking into the eyes of the top hero herself. Nemuri smiled at the TV and took a swig of her coffee. She sighed "Happy birthday to me!". She said unenthusiastically. Now at the age of 31 as of today, she wondered what the day would entail. She was alone with her family on the other side of Japan and he left alone to her own devices. She thought she could spoil herself for today and made herself her favorite breakfast. Some doughnuts from the mom and pop bakery down the street. She had already eaten one leaving the other one untouched. She took another swig of her coffee watching as the news girl babbled on about a small robbery happening down the street from her apartment. "Well," She started to get up and head towards her bedroom where her hero suit lay on the bed. "I never do get a rest do I?"

____________________________________________________________________________

"Aw damn ya beat me to it didn't ya?" Yamada said approaching her as she tied up the assailants, using her whip. "Maybe your just getting slow in your old age." She quipped back at him.

"Says the one whose actually growing a year older as we speak!".

"Mic, we're all constantly getting older. Like all the time." She said, walking towards him the criminals finally properly tied up for the authorities.

"Hey c'mon just let me have this one would ya? Happy birthday by the way!" She chuckled at his response. "Thank you." and she knew it was gonna be a long day.

____________________________________________________________________________

She was right it was a long day, and she hadn't even gotten through half of it. Everyone, every teacher, student, and other members of the faculty knew it was her birthday. With every congratulations, she only felt older and older. And so she felt more and more depressed. Even the internet was blowing it up in her face. As soon as she opened her computer she was hit with articles about her and her best moments throughout the years. What was wrong with the way she was now? She clicked on the article and looked back on her "golden years" as they called it. The article was just retellings of her most special moments, as she could recall each one of them within her memories. Nemuri found herself clicking on more and more articles staring to slump over in her seat. She started scrolling through articles describing how much hotter the newest hero girls were using her as a comparison for the older heroes. Article after article describing how she was starting to turn into old news. She leaned more and more into her computer screen, unaware of the approaching figure behind her.

"Nemuri,-AHHHH"

She jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Immediately grabbing the person's arm, and pinning them to the ground. Only to find her dear friend Aizawa.

"Shota! What the hell, you scared me to death!" She said getting up off the ground and helping him up. "Well, for one thing, its time for you to teach your class." Oh crap! I completely forgot about the class! "U-um yeah I'll get right to that!" Nemuri said nervously. Aizawa headed towards the door.

"Yeah whatever, just make sure you get to class on time okay?" Nemuri nodded.

"Oh, and happy birthday."

Damn it

____________________________________________________________________________

As soon as she entered the classroom she could see the writing written up on the board. "Happy-Birthday Ms. Midnight!" A sweet gesture, and she was sure it was in good spirits. However, she just couldn't help but let her smile falter for just a moment. "Oh my, what's this! You all shouldn't have."

You really shouldn't have.

"Such a shame however I do have to erase it and get on with today's lesson!" Nemuri erased the board and started the lesson of the day, her mind still running rapid with thoughts. She could hardly focus on the lesson and opted to let the class have a free period instead.

She sat in her desk and watched as her students interacted with each other. Some of them doing late homework, others talking, some reading or drawing. But she couldn't help but feel like some eyes were on her. She turned to see a student clearly eyeing her. A young girl student, a shy one too. Nemrui recalled her not talking a lot in class, but when she did she knew what she was talking about. Nemuri smiled at the girl. She only blushed, embarrassed that she had gotten caught staring, and looked back down to her desk. Nemuri wondered what could be happening in the young girl's life.

Look at her, her entire life ahead of her! She could be a great hero or a brilliant teacher. Anything she wants! So young and beautiful for her age. I remember back when I was her age. Stealing boy's hearts, going shopping with the gals, helping Yamada annoy Shota. Even at a young age, we knew we'd be friends for a long time.

Before she knew it the class had ended, she stayed in her desk and watched as her students filed out into the hallway. Her smile soon faltered as she went up and closed the door. She went back to one of the closets in her classroom and grabbed her secret flask of alcohol, and took a good swing of it. She new alcohol wasn't allowed on the premise but she couldn't help but sneak in a small amount. She hoped she would be able to sober up within the time lunch was over.

"Nemuri what the hell are you doing?"

"AH! God Aizawa you really need to start wearing a bell!"

Nemuri turned around to find Shota staring at her from the doorway. "And I'll ask again, just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Nemuri smiled and held her drink up "What does it look like I'm doing?"

" You know what I mean Nemuri."

Nemuri's smile faltered and she fell back against the closet door sliding down to the floor and curling into a fetus position. "I don't know anymore Shota." She felt him sit down next to her on the ground. "What's really going on her Nemuri. I saw you earlier this morning on those websites. And then Yamada said you looked upset even this morning. We're just worried for you."

Nemuri look over to her friend and sighed. "I don't know Shota it's just... I feel so old! I feel like I don't mean anything to anyone anymore! And to the people that still do like me, I feel like I'm not enough! They see me as this sexy confident goddess, but how can I do that while growing gray hairs? I know I'll grow old, that's inevitable, but can't I do it and still mean something to someone?" Shota looked at her and sighed. "Look Nemuri you'll never really stop meaning something. Look at me, you mean something to me! You mean something to Yamada! And to your fans, you say they may not support you but that's ok! If they really did like you and you really did inspire them then they will still care about you when your old and gray! Just remember Nemuri, you really do matter okay? Don't ever doubt that." Shota patted her back, and Nemuri looked at him. Her frown turned back into a smile, and she put her flask away. Aizawa opened the door for her and she walked out only to be greeted by someone else. The young girl from her class before.

"O-oh! Ms.Midnight m-my n-name is Sakura a-and I'm in o-one of y-yo-your classes and, well I w-was just w-wondering..." Nemuri tilted her head in confusion. "W-WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO SIGN THIS FOR ME?" Sakura yelled as she bowed to the teacher holding a small paper in her direction. Nemuri inspected the piece of paper seeing there was a drawing on it. A drawing of her. "I-i-it's just," the girl stuttered. "your such a big inspiration of mine." Nemuri only smiled "Why of course!" She took the paper and grabbed a pen from her desk. Looking in Aizawa's direction she saw him smiling at her. As she began to sign the paper she though. I'm glad I do mean something, at least to one person.

#bnha #bnha kayama #nemuri kayama #midnight #bnha midnight #shota aizawa #eraserhead #bnha fic #present mic #hisashi yamada #bnha imagines #fanfiction #fanfic #mha #mha aizawa #mha midnight #mha present mic #mha fanfiction

2 notes · View notes