#and another side who sees me purposefully be vague about some of the things I discuss like trauma and regret | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miraculouscontent · 3 years

Note

After reading that, I think it's safe to say that Miraculous Ladybug is more of a horror/psychological thriller than romance/comedy. And now I want an AU where Marinette takes the earrings off and realizes that they're messing with head

Marinette felt strange, and after getting used to the feeling of being on the Startrain, she knew it wasn't the cause. She felt lighter - less restricted - somehow, and while a part of her had expected that due to handing off the ladybug miraculous, it wasn't in the way she'd expected.

Once she was done sending Alya all the Ladybug tips, Marinette had figured they'd start talking about Adrien or what their next scheme would be once she got back, but she ended up finding the idea tiring. It was odd in the way that finding something in her room just slightly out of place would be (at least before the kwami began living there).

Everything she'd thought she might feel - anxiety over what could go wrong while she was gone, concern over how the kwami were doing in her absence, and longing for who she'd pictured as the love of her life - wasn't there. It felt completely unlike her, just as it felt unlike Alya to not reply to her messages considering how much she liked to be on her phone.

Abandoning the idea of texting Alya for now, she closed their conversation and idly started browsing her phone. Even still, the weird feeling didn't cease and her hero senses were going off.

Something was wrong, or... maybe right? It wasn't as if she was feeling anything bad, but she felt entirely different than when she was in Paris. It was hard to get a gauge on exactly how she should take it.

Marinette glanced at her parents, catching herself frowning before they could glance back. She looked at her phone, acting like nothing was wrong and idly scrolling through her various apps so as to look busy. In the process, she stumbled upon her gallery, finding her mass of Adrien images inside. It took up a majority of her pictures, and she found herself blushing in embarrassment rather than fondness.

Did she really have this many normally? How much time had she taken getting them?

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thrown off by just how different she felt. The reaction to seeing Adrien that she'd normally have where she'd lose all focus had virtually disappeared, and the only reason she'd missed it at all was because it gave her an absurd amount of mental clarity concerning how she'd be acting otherwise.

Clarity...

The word brought a particular face to her mind: pink lips, blue eyes, and black hair highlighted blue at the tips. Marinette ran her fingers through her own hair, ruffling it as she tried to piece out how she was feeling. All she knew was that - whatever it was - it was significant and she didn't have Tikki to vent to.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t had much to provide anyway.

A mix of trepidation and curiosity filling her. Switching away from her gallery, she went back to her conversations and pulled up her texts with Luka. Despite her confusion over whatever was happening to her at the moment, she managed a smile at Luka's contact image staring fondly at her.

After a moment of consideration, she typed out:

Hey. Sorry if you're busy. Thought we could talk?

That done, she navigated back to her gallery to look at all her Adrien pictures. She shifted in her seat again, as if it would change things or help her mind adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't like looking at Adrien didn't make her feel anything at all, but that feeling could only be described as "normal," like the way she saw him before he'd given her that umbrella.

Before she officially became a ladybug holder who agreed to protect the people of Paris...

Her lips twitched in hesitant thought, her thumb brushing against her screen as she skimmed through the assortment of Adrien pictures. Her brain registered a feeling - or rather, lack thereof - and the foreign emotions encouraged her to act.

She tapped the garbage can icon experimentally, a notification popping up accordingly and asking her if she'd like to delete the picture. She brought the phone closer to her chest, like she felt she was doing something wrong, yet there was only a second of pause before she confirmed the decision.

She watched as Adrien disappeared, a message indicating that the picture had been trashed.

Marinette blinked at the message until it had timed out, bringing her back to the gallery. She was frozen in place, her fingers twitching against the side of the phone as she processed what she'd just done.

Then, she did it again. She tapped on another picture of Adrien, a weird mix of eagerness and interest urging her thumb along as she pressed the garbage can icon again, confirming the decision just as quickly.

Just before the image disappeared, a stray thought said aloud in her mind: black hair and blue eyes would've worked better for an outfit like that.

This time, her body finally moved, a shudder going up her spine as she took in a breath. Her eyes darted over to her parents, knowing how strange this must look to them, but they weren't watching her anyway, meaning the moment was kept firmly in her own personal bubble. It was so odd; normally, someone would've seen her acting off, or laughed and made muttering comments about it.

But nothing was happening, and she didn't know whether to question it or not.

Marinette glanced back at her phone, almost challenging herself as she started to run through the assorted Adrien pictures. She could've thrown them in the metaphorical bin all at once, but instead, she went one-by-one. She waited for something to break, either a sense of regret to settle in over the deletion or for her heart to start fawning over the face on screen, but neither happened.

She was in control, and it felt good. Really, really good.

Part of her felt like she was being ridiculous. The idea of getting some kind of emotional high out of deleting a few pictures sounded stupid, and yet she felt powerful. It was like a veil had been lifted and suddenly she had choices.

If her parents saw her visibly vibrating in her seat, she didn't hear them make mention of it.

The only thing that made her snap out of her rapid thumb movements was a text notification at the top of her screen, and only due to the flash of black, blue, and white. Her lips curved into a smile, originally being pressed together in focus, and she clicked to open her text messages with Luka.

Hey, Marinette. I'm not busy at all. What's up?

She felt warm, knowing that the guy who always made her feel comfortable and happy was on the other line. it was such a shame that they hadn't been able to work it out because of Adrien.

Marinette paused just as she went to reply, those thoughts catching up to her as she remembered that day with Luka underneath the bridge. She'd been so sure that she'd had to break up with him because of Adrien, but as she purposefully tried to recall the memory, something registered like a mental fog clearing in her mind.

Hadn't it actually been her responsibilities as Ladybug that had done it? In fact, that added up alongside all of the other memories of his akumatization; she hadn't been ditching him during their dates out of discomfort or her crush on Adrien, but because of akuma and sentimonsters.

How could she have forgotten? Or rather, how could she have remembered otherwise?

Marinette just barely managed to snap herself out of her trance, her phone having dimmed from inactivity and the sight of her furrowed brows and worried frown staring back at her from the blackened screen. She blinked rapidly, then shook her head to clear herself of the unnerving thoughts.

Lighting her phone back up, she hurriedly typed back as she realized she'd left Luka on read, trying to ignore the way her thumbs shook.

Nothing much.

She hesitated, already seeing him typing back. Guilt burrowed around in her stomach, knowing very well that it was not "nothing" but being unable to properly convey what was going on to him when she didn't even understand it herself.

She typed again, his own typing ceasing to let her add to her comment.

Actually, I've been thinking a bit lately. I'm going to be in London for a while and I'm on the train ride there right now. It's given me some time to myself and it's... weird.

I'm sorry, I know that doesn't make sense.

Even though he hadn't replied, she knew he was taking her seriously as he was typing back.

It makes sense. Background music doesn't work for everyone.

Marinette realized that her shoulders had been tense when they relaxed at his message. She pressed her lips together, feeling vaguely like she didn't deserve him and pushing down the thoughts just as quickly. He'd never approve of that kind of talk.

My head's just been a bit of a mess. Or... not a mess? Things were really foggy but I didn't realize that they were? It's like I'm thinking clearer but I don't know if I like everything that came with that.

What was the phrase? Ignorance is bliss? She had no idea where these changes were coming from, but something had indeed changed and she didn't know the significance of it. She was indeed happy that she felt so in control now over her thoughts on Adrien, but why now? What caused it, and what about her memories?

Would it go away?

Marinette shuddered at the idea, but tried to focus on her conversation with Luka. Having a crisis wasn't going to do her any good, and he was there with her, even if only through text.

I can't know what you're going through, but I think I get it.

You do?

Yeah. Do you remember my birthday, when everyone heard about my dad being Jagged Stone?

He already continued typing, so she just nodded even if he couldn't see it. She'd only been with Juleka when the reveal had happened, but she imagined it'd been just as much of a shock for her as it'd been for them. She couldn't even imagine when Luka could've learned about it.

Wait--no, she'd already known, actually, hadn't she? He'd been akumatized and had gone after Jagged, and she'd been there when he forced Jagged to tell him the truth about being his father.

Marinette winced at the filling of a gap in her memory that she hadn't realized had been there. Once again, she'd remembered something that she couldn't fathom having forgotten or misremembered, even with how spotty her memory could be under normal circumstances.

She turned towards the back of her seat and the window, trying to isolate herself so it felt like just her, her phone, and Luka. She desperately needed his texts as a distraction.

I'd wanted to know who my dad was for so long, but learning that it was my favorite musician all this time was a lot. I had to redo all the notes I’ve ever written about him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it for a while.

He kept typing after that, and she merely stroked the side of the phone with her thumb as some form of support, even knowing that he couldn't know about it.

But I'm glad I knew in the end. He's doing his best to make up for all the lost time, and I don't have to go on never knowing what that song would've sounded like.

Their situations weren't exactly the same, but it was enough to reach her deep down. Whatever her situation was, if it really did mean something, she'd rather know it was there than go on never knowing. She hated the idea of being left in the dark, just as she hated being lied to.

As she took a calming breath, she found it in herself to type back.

I'm glad you know too. You deserve people who make you happy, Luka.

Thank you, Marinette. You do too, and I hope that whatever you're going through goes at least as well as it did for me.

Thanks.

She bit her lower lip at her reply, which felt clipped in tone even though she hadn't meant it that way. She just had too much on her mind and it was hard to think about what emotion was coming across when she was typing to him.

She tapped away at the on-screen keyboard, hopefully before he could think anything in particular about it.

Sorry.

Though she wanted to explain further, she wavered, her legs bending as she curled further in on herself. The conversation had already been so deep and she didn't want to make it worse.

But just as she debated on dismissing her feelings and insisting that he not worry about her, the memories that had been cleared up from before came back to her, reminding her of a warm hug on top of a bridge.

"When you're ready, I'll be here, Marinette."

She inhaled shakily, but steadied herself immediately afterwards, letting the warmth of the words calm her. Luka was there for her and she trusted him.

She was ready.

...I'm scared, Luka. I thought I had my clarity, but I don't. Something's wrong.

Then, almost on cue, the train screeched to a halt, jostling her out of her seat as the lights went off. The simultaneous sound of phones ringing followed soon after.

—————

Marinette held her breath, crouched down in the restroom while she listened closely for the sound of her parents' footsteps. Her throat let out a whine, but she managed to keep it silent enough to where she was sure that no one on the other side of the door would hear it. She'd have to leave eventually or risk being cornered, courtesy of the power being off and the restroom's lock being electronic, but she felt safe enough to pull out her phone.

She also set it on vibrate just in case.

There was a reasonable concern at first that Luka's texts would indicate that he'd fallen victim to the akuma, but what she found when she checked their conversation reassured her.

Marinette!

Is everything okay?

Did the akuma's power reach you? Did they call you too?

Marinette?

The panic in simple letters on a screen made her feel noticed and loved. Keeping enough of her focus on potential footsteps approaching outside the door, she typed out a reply:

Sorry. I had to run from my parents.

I'm okay. What about you?

You're alright. I'm so glad.

I'm okay too. I hid somewhere and I doubt anyone can find me.

That's good. Be careful.

You too.

She took another breath, certain she'd be captured soon if the akuma wasn't taken care of. The train was limited and there weren't many places to go, so unless she could find a blunt object to smash her parents' phones, she was at a loss.

Regardless, Luka was there, her phone vibrating as he added onto his previous text:

I know this isn't the time, and I hate that the akuma cut into the song we were writing, but I'm here for you, Marinette. Whatever's going on, I'll help you figure it out as long as you want me with you.

Her heart fluttered pleasantly, a pink blush even tinting her cheeks. She welcomed it, unlike the fear that'd come with the changed memories. Feeling the way she did for Luka was too natural to be afraid in any way.

Thank you, so much. You're the only one I could trust with something like this.

She meant it. She'd trusted Alya with her identity in a moment of weakness, and even passed the ladybug earrings to her, yet that somehow paled in comparison to the emotions she was choosing to share. Luka would take her seriously, she was sure, even if she came up with the craziest theory in the world for why her feelings and memories were the way they were. He wouldn't doubt her, or laugh, or dismiss her as "Marinette being Marinette."

And as she sat there, completely without a miraculous or any way to get back to Paris without help, she reached up with her free hand and tugged at her earlobe, processing what she could with the information she had as one such theory started to form in her head. The fear from before never quite went away, but the idea of figuring things out with Luka brought her a sense of comfort.

Though perhaps, when she got back to Paris, she would take back her miraculous with a sense of hesitance that she hadn't had before, and there would be some testing that followed after the fact, because there were two things she refused to give up from her experience on the train.

Her sense of freedom and choice, and the feelings for Luka that she can't believe she ever questioned.

Or, if her working theory was correct, that her miraculous had her question.

#MC's Writing #writing: story #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #category: salt #episode: Hack San #other: ask and answer #((tbh depending on how much Marinette explains it to him))#((poor boi's gonna have one hell of a revelation in ''Wishmaker''))#((suddenly the Adrien crush influence she explained is gonna make sense))#((and he feels bad for ever supporting it even if he had no way of knowing.))

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Some Things Have To Be Said (Part Three)

When S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Y/N L/N is called to the S.W.O.R.D. encampment outside Westview because of her history working alongside Wanda Maximoff, she’ll have to face her past with Wanda and even a confrontation with the woman she loved.

previous / masterlist

You can only stare at her. Your blood feels like it’s freezing in your veins, slowing to a stop. The world crashes to a halt around you. After a long moment, you’re able to claw up the strength to form a single word. “What?” Wanda’s gaze doesn’t break. “Who are you?” She repeats, and the question still burns just as deep the second time.

“You don’t- you don’t know me?” Wanda shakes her head, the movement slow and unflinching. “Should I?” You blink, trying to regain any sense of clarity. “Yes. No. You did, once.” Wanda’s emotionless mask flinches once, and she tilts her head slightly to the side to consider you. “I did, didn’t I?” She looks deeply into your eyes, and you have that same sense of overwhelming scrutiny that you had felt before. Wanda must be reading your mind, but there seems to be something blocking her from looking too deeply, because she looks away after barely a moment has gone by.

“L/N. Agent L/N. If you’re with the government, why don’t I feel afraid of you? Something is telling me to trust you, but I don’t know why.” You feel a bitter smile creep onto your cheeks, lips tugged up at the sides. “It’s because I loved you.” Wanda nods once. “And me? Did I feel the same way about you?” You force yourself to keep a calm face, to not break down. “I don’t know. That’s why I came, to find out.”

Wanda furrows her brow. “Y/N. Your name was Y/N.” You incline your head. “We met a while back. I don’t know why you can’t remember me.” Wanda seems about to answer you, but then you hear the sound of shouting from across the town. It sounds like the cries of two young boys, and you realize it must be Wanda’s children.

Wanda appears to have come to the same conclusion and seems drawn towards the sound, but she forces herself to turn back to you, as if held in place by some anchor tying her to you. “I have to go.” You nod once. “I know. It’s alright.” Wanda’s eyes flicker up to you, and she places her palm lightly against your cheek. It barely touches you, but the sensation of her so close to you is spellbinding. “You need to be careful. There’s a woman here, Agatha. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You let your hand come to rest against hers, contact for just a second. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Wanda nods, takes in one quiet breath. “I’ll come back, Y/N. I promise.” You try for a smile. “I know you will.” Wanda hesitates one last second, as if drinking in the sight of you, then she finally pulls her hand away and hurries off down the sidewalk to help her children.

You’re left standing there, your own hand unconsciously rising to where hers had just left you. Your fingers feel cool against your cheek. Out of nowhere, a woman appears in the middle of the street, and walks until she’s shoulder to shoulder with you, both of you watching the place where Wanda had just been. You speak first. “You must be Agatha.” The woman leers at you, and you realize she was the strange neighbour from before, the one who had known your name.

Agatha’s voice is colder now that she’s dispensed with the ‘happy neighbour’ attitude. “And you’re Agent Y/N L/N of S.H.I.E.L.D. Don’t take Wanda’s lack of memory too personally, I’m afraid that was my fault. I needed her to completely fall apart so I could take her powers, and I knew she wouldn’t crumble as easily if she knew she had someone else waiting for her who wouldn’t vanish when her little suburban dream disappeared.”

You cut a glance over to Agatha. “So you took her memories of me?” She nods, shoulders lifting in triumph. “Had to be done. I’d tell you not to worry because the memories might come back, but I’m not even sure that will happen.” Agatha claps her hands together, suddenly purposeful. “Well, I’m off to rain destruction on your little friend. Stay out of my way, sweetie, or you’ll find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.” The words, spoken so carelessly, carry a far deeper threat than the seemingly innocent words would otherwise show.

In a heartbeat, Agatha vanishes, and you’re alone on the street once more. You glance around you at the houses nearby, and realize with a dull panic that Monica was supposed to be checking out Agatha’s house to find Wanda. Surely she would have heard the voices and come out, right? When you check around, you can’t find Monica anywhere, so you decide to enter Agatha’s house and try to find your friend. If you can’t help Wanda right now, you can at least try to get Monica out of Agatha’s control.

The door to Agatha’s house is unlocked, and you can hear a vague commotion going on upstairs. When you make your way up a flight of stairs and down a hall, you pause by a door leading to a bedroom. You can hear Monica’s voice coming from inside, so you try the doorknob but find it locked. From inside the room comes the sound of someone panicking, and they seem to be begging for their life. That does it- you back up a little, then run at the door and kick it down. Monica looks up at the sound of the door splintering open, and you find that she’s not alone- there’s another boy there, who looks like the new Pietro casting on Wanda’s show.

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, I was ready to join in the fight but it doesn’t look like you’ll be needing my help. Who’s he?” Monica gives one last look to the boy on the ground. “Ralph, apparently. I think Agatha put him under mind control to make him act like he was Wanda’s twin brother. Easier to recast than bring someone back from the dead.” You shrug. “I can’t argue with that logic. You want to come to the town center? I think some big fight is going on between Wanda and Agatha.”

Monica nods, and the two of you leave Agatha’s house, heading quickly towards the center of town. Sure enough, you see Wanda and Agatha hovering in the sky, exchanging blasts of magical energy. You also see Hayward and his S.W.O.R.D. reinforcements arriving to the scene, and tap Monica on the shoulder to point them out. “You see that? He’s still gunning for Wanda even though it’s obvious she’s not the villain anymore.” Monica frowns in determination. “He’s got a bigger hand in this than he’s letting on. Are you ready to help defend Wanda and her kids?” You grin, reaching for the gun at your belt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

At last, after days of research and planning and mind control, you’re finally back in your element. As Hayward’s reinforcements pour out of their armored vehicles, you take them down one by one, moving with the methodical grace of someone who was practically born for combat. It feels so freeing to be able to finally push everything out of your mind and just take down everyone in your path. A large part of your S.H.I.E.L.D. training was combat, so it’s nice to use that familiar skill set again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hayward training a gun at Billy and Tommy, Wanda’s kids. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s prepared to shoot, and even as you race towards him, desperate to stop this, you already know you’re arriving too late. Luckily, Monica is there just in time, and stands in front of the boys to protect them from the bullets. To your shock, Hayward still fires, but the bullets pass harmlessly through Monica and fall to the ground.

Hayward seems just as surprised as you are, and races into an armored vehicle in an attempt to ram the twins and Monica. Just as he’s flooring the gas, though, a food truck of all things hurtles into the vehicle, crashing into it in a flurry of sparks and twisting metal. You realize with a grin that it was driven by Darcy, and sigh in relief to realize that your friend is alright.

You hurry over to Monica. “Okay, I knew about the glowing eyes, but the bullet trick was new. Very cool and very dangerous.” Monica purses her lips in thought, but she looks exhilarated by her new powers. “I know about the dangerous, but I’m not so sure about the other part.” You toss her a grin. “I’ve worked with the Avengers for a while, and I’ve seen a lot of powers. Trust me, that was very cool.” Monica laughs at that. “It is, isn’t it?”

You look up to see Wanda floating out of the sky towards her children, and turn away hurriedly, distracting yourself by running checks on your weapon so that Wanda won’t see you. Monica frowns at you. “Y/N, when I got my powers I could see into Wanda’s head for a little bit. I know she loves you, and I know how you feel about her. Why are you trying to hide from her?”

You look back at the retreating figures of Wanda, Vision, and the twins. “She only has so much time left with this family, I don’t want to mar any of it with thoughts of others.” Monica follows your gaze, watching them leave. “Does it hurt to see her with them?” You sigh quietly. “Yes and no. It hurt more before, but I know that I’ll be able to be with her again once she lets them go. I want her to have as much time with them as possible.” Monica nods, and puts a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “If you need anyone, you know you’ve got me, right?” You smile back at her. “I do. Thank you, Monica.”

A woman in a black suit comes up to Monica, asking for a word in private. Monica nods, then turns back to you. Both of you know that this is goodbye, that you won’t be meeting up again today, or even for a while. Your eyes warm as you take in the sight of your friend. “I’ll see you again soon. I have no doubt of that.” Monica smiles at you. “Good luck, Y/N. I hope you can make things work with her.” You nod goodbye, then she turns and walks away, following the woman into a movie theatre. You slip away from the crowd of agents, walking briskly into the fading light.

Wanda Maximoff is striding purposefully down the streets of Westview. She’s almost on the outskirts of town when she notices the parked car waiting at the far edge. A woman is leaning up against the car, staring up at the sky, although she straightens once she notices Wanda approach. “Need a lift?” Wanda’s eyes widen as she recognizes the woman. “Y/N?” She hurries over, wraps her arms around the other woman. Although Y/N has had years of training on managing her emotions, she still freezes slightly, surprised at the sudden contact.

Then a smile appears on her face. “You remember me?” Wanda nods. “I remember everything. Agatha’s spell fell apart once I took care of her.” Y/N nods, a warm happiness glowing in her eyes. “I knew you would.” Wanda looks over at her, face falling. “Y/N, about everything, I-” Y/N holds up a hand, cutting her off. “You don’t have to explain. I know. I’m just glad that you came back.” Wanda reaches out, takes Y/N’s hand. She stares at it for a second before finding the strength to continue speaking. “I knew I would, eventually. I don’t think I could ever really leave you.” Her voice falters for a second. “I love you, Y/N. I wish I told you that before.”

Y/N’s face lights up at that, even as she struggles to keep her emotions under control. “I love you too. Always have and always will.” Wanda runs her finger over Y/N’s knuckles absentmindedly, fingers trailing over the faded scars that line her palm. “Thank you for waiting.” Y/N inclines her head at that, then gestures towards the car. “Are you ready to leave?” Wanda takes one last look at the town of Westview, then opens the door and slides into the passenger seat. Y/N crosses around the front of the car, and Wanda watches as she swings her legs over into the driver’s side chair. They lock eyes for a second, both closer than they ever have been, and then Y/N speaks at last. “So, where to?” Wanda looks back over the road before them, eyes trained not on the town behind them but the journey ahead. “Home.”

Wanda is sitting on the porch of a cabin in the woods, dressed in a simple gray. The piercing whistle of a kettle echoes through the open door, and she stands to pour herself a cup. Wanda glances at a dusty clock resting on the mantle, then gestures lazily with a free hand. A portal appears in the space next to her, scarlet sparks flying off into nothingness. A woman in a black suit walks through the portal, trading the tall buildings behind her for the quiet of the cabin. A label is stitched in white over her coat pocket: S.W.O.R.D. Director L/N. A promotion after the success of a recent job.

Wanda smiles at Y/N, handing her a cup of tea. “How was work?” Y/N takes a sip of the beverage, savoring the warmth. “Pretty good. Only a couple of new crises, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” She gestures with her chin towards the corner of the room, where a strange energy seems to hover in the air despite nothing being there to conduct it. “Have you learned anything new?” Wanda grins, a faint aura of power tugging at her lips. “You have no idea.”

tag list: @username23345

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doopy-n-loopy · 3 years

Note

Ima just say if you ever start taking in commission you best believe Ima be your first customer! Alrigjt hear me out what if S/o like a different merc. A example would be like Yandere sniper likes s/o but s/o likes scout.

Awwww thank chu ❤️ but Oooooo that's gonna cause some HUGE issues with the yanderes 😳

Yan!TF2 Mercs × Reader

// obsessive tendancies, blood, violence

Defense

Demo

Demo sees you flirting with another merc

His jaw is wide open in utter shock

He takes a moment to process it

He realizes that you like him and he's not happy

He grumbles and goes to get drunk to try and forget about it but he can't

The thing is, if they weren't a merc he'd get rid of them easily

However, he works with them, which makes it harder

So instead he finds out what you like and tries to impress you

He also tries to lure you away from him

Heavy

Heavy is not impressed

I mean, how could you like that guy?

Heavy scoffs to himself knowing damn well he's much better than them

Heavy is like Demo, they don't really show it and decide to read to take their mind off of it (but can't)

So heavy figures out what impresses you and gets you those things

Also he tries to block your view from that person using his body so he can have you to himself

Engi

Angry texan mumbling.mp3

He'll go to his shop to build things to forget about it (to no avail)

He then gets the idea to build you things to impress you

He also offers to take you out to dinner

Whenever you're paying attention to the other merc, he'll have his robot make a loud noise just to divert your attention to him

Offense

Scout

Unlike the previous mercs, he lets you know he has a problem

"What's so special about that (insert specific insult used towards them in-game)?"

He then pulls you away and continues to talk shit about him

He then brings you to KFC or something to get a bucket of chicken

Starts flexing his non existent muscles at you

"Why chase after that loser when you have a hunk like me at your side, baby?"

Pyro

Angry pyro mumbling

They'll pull you away like Scout

Pyro will smother you in hugs

You can't fight back because Pyro is too damn strong

Pyro will decorate you in bones and guts, thinking you look pretty in it

If Pyro ever sees the merc, they'll flash their flamethrower at them to scare them

(honestly I think Pyro is aware of how scared they make everyone else)

Soldier

Is THE LOUDEST ONE

"Hah! I bet this maggot can't even bench press 400lbs with two eagles on each weight!" Like shut up you can't either

He will also drag you away, except he threw you over his shoulder

He will be screaming about how bad the other merc is and how amazing he is

On the battlefield, if you're near the merc you like, he'll grab you and rocket jump away with you

Support

Sniper

He turns away immediately after seeing you flirt

He goes to polish his gun, read, nap, anything to make him feel better

But he's tired of it

He first threatens the merc who you were flirting with

"Back off of y/n you lil bugger, if ya know what's good for ya"

If they don't or hell even worse, choose to try and make him jealous, sniper has no qualms against getting rid of them

They'll make it look like they were killed by the enemy sniper or they'll just disappear, with their body found hacked to death in a ditch days later

Either way he'll take your grief over their death to his advantage to get closer to you

"oh I'm sorry y/n, he was a good lad. Why don't you come to my camper so I can cheer ya up, eh?"

Spy

Spy knows he's the shit so he isn't too afraid of you keeping that ceush for long

At first he'll get you gifts and other things of the sorts to impress you

Then he'll threaten the merc you flirted with

"back off, or else"

His threats are vague but they get the point across

He understands how important each team member is but if he needs to get rid of them, he won't hesistate

They will never find the body

He'll manipulate you and use your grief to his advantage like sniper

Medic

He's probably the most deadly one

When medic saw you flirting with another merc, he used all of his energy to conceal his rage

Instead, he pulled you into his clinic, saying that you needed to have a check up

His grip on your arm was painfully tight

He uses the fact that he's a doctor to his advantage, he'll usually pull you away from them to give you check ups and on the battlefield he'll call your name for assistance

The merc better pray that medic emds them quickly, otherwise their death will be slow and painful

Medic doesn't care if he has to kill the entire team for you because this deranged man WILL do it

He'll make it look like an accident or get rid of them entirely, making it to where nobody can find his body... Not in one peice, anyways

By that I mean he'll purposefully botch a surgery to kill them or murder them and store their body parts somewhere

He's just scary as fuck

And a bonus cause I wanted to: Pauling

She doesn't see you a lot but qhen she does, she's always nice to you

However, she got a bit of an attitude after hearing you flirt with another merc

"you do realize that it's against company policy to have a relationship with a co-worker, right?"

She'll dispose of them carefully, either putting them on a mission that will for sure kill them or finding an excuse to kill them herself

She'll be a little more careful if they're someone that's hard to replace like spy or medic but she'll make sure that everything goes smoothly.

When you're greiving, she'll actually feel some guilt for her actions

However she believes what she did was necessary and won't hesitate to do it again

"I'm sorry for what happened y/n... At least you still have me"

She says in a sweet voice with a sinister undertone

Anyways I'm sorry for taking so long and sorry that these are so short, my inspiration was running low lol. I hope you liked these! Feel free to request anything again!❤️

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

Note

I just got into the fandom and I love it so much. However, there are parts where I just cringe. I’m going to be completely honest when I say I can’t see SS being a thing, a healthy one at that. A rumor said that Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him. I just... find it utterly bullshit. Hell, even I do ship narusasu, I tried to be open minded and not fall too far off canon or the characters. I don’t understand how Sasuke had those feelings for her when all he did was shown the opposite and it felt genuine. He seem always annoyed and pushes her away. She kept forcing her feelings on him when he makes it clear that he’s not interested. I don’t hate the ship because it’s not my ship but because it’s extremely toxic. It feels one-sided (Sakura’s side) more than anything and it’s makes it hard to believe he had those feelings for her. I mean, on the second episode of season five, she confessed and poured out her heart and he blew it off. I cringed hard and was beyond disappointed because she’s making it about herself. That’s literally how I feel about their damn “relationship”. She made it about her and her only. When he’s hurting, it’s about her. It’s so annoying and it makes me see how self-centered Sakura. When she said she understood Sasuke, I wanted to scream (I nearly did but my family is sleeping and I don’t need a lecture.) She doesn’t know Jackshit about Sasuke besides he’s the only survivor of his decease clan, he’s a loner who cares only about himself, and he’s attractive. She’s just like every other fangirl expect she’s on his team. I’m trying my best not to hate her but Damn she’s really pushing it. Anything that annoyed me was that she made it seem like they were dating, again making it about herself and her feelings. She sent Naruto to get Sasuke for her benefits, so she can keep him. Again, disregarding Sasuke’s feelings and what he wanted. Naruto should’ve said “I’ll bring him back because HE wants too, to keep HIM safe, not for you.” I just can’t with this ship. I’m still wondering why the hell is it even a thing? Also find it beyond pitiful how she stayed with Sasuke in Boruto when he left for 12-13 years?! No note. No checking up. Nothing. Hell, Sarada doesn’t know how her own father looks like or the truth of her mother. Both of them were miserable and I find it absolutely ridiculous when SS shippers still say “they’re in love” or they’re OTP. If that’s what true love looks like (good thing it’s not), then I’d die single. I can’t be the only one who thinks this ship is just as bad as Harley Quinn x Joker.

First off, Thanks for this lovely ask @larrycherry04 ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I've always wanted to write about this and your ask is the perfect timing.

Disclaimer: SS shippers, Sakura fans!!! Don’t read this post!!

Me being an SNS shipper, I am just going to write this from a non-SNS perspective. Meaning, I am going to consider Naruto and Sasuke are just friends or rivals.

Bear with my lengthy answer.

Where do I even begin?

A rumor said that Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him.

I think this rumor is from a light novel called Akatsuki Hiden or whatever shit. But for me, it looks like a pathetic attempt to convince those horny women shippers who would pay any money to read a romance which mirrors their own love life where they desire an ‘unreachable & handsome’ man who has this ‘cool & overbearing’ aura and carries this ‘bad boy badass’ vibe. They would do anything to get the attention from this boy. Until this point is where the reality ends.

What they really wants to happen and fantasize is somehow that handsome man, one day, will look only them and recognize their love and becomes a ‘soft’ guy who would bring the heavens for them and treats her like a princess. That fantasy led them to buy these novels and believe everything while completely disregarding the canon material. And those novels are aimed at these type of women.

You must have been wondering now, ‘I have seen these type of shit somewhere’!!!!!

That’s right.

50 Shades of Grey, Twilight, Beauty and the Beast, 100′s of K-Drama, C-Drama follow this shit romance trope and it’s regrettably fucking popular.

In other words, Don’t believe anything apart from the canonic resources.

Let’s dissect the canon materials about SS.

TEAM 7

This is how it all started

Does anyone see anything positive here????

Well, I am not.

Sakura wanted to impress Sasuke. Since, Naruto always picks fight with Sasuke, she badmouthed Naruto in the hopes that Sasuke will recognize some common ground with her which may develop into a friendship. But she shot her own foot.

[Regardless, I hated her here and she never redeemed herself, for her being completely insensitive & oblivious towards Sasuke’s life, the boy she loves]

Technically, Sasuke should have said ‘You’re Annoying’ towards Naruto for kissing him before the class and tying him up later. Here, Sakura is simply badmouthing another guy. He, somehow, find this very annoying than anything Naruto did earlier.

Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him.

Am definitely not seeing any feelings here.

ZABUZA ARC

Alright, much later, somehow Sasuke started to integrate into team 7 and started to see them as a Family. No denial here. He started to care about everyone in his team at some point. Which was evident from the way he thought to himself, ‘That was Sakura’s voice... What is Kakashi doing?’

But does it means he hopelessly fell in love with her??? Nope.

It’s just a team camaraderie where he was worried about his teammate. If he has special feelings towards her, he should have said ‘I must go save Sakura’ or something along the line.

But, later in that episode, he went on to die for Naruto and even at his dying moments he didn’t think about Sakura or Team 7. It was all about someone else.

Even seconds before falling into Naruto’s arms, Sasuke was smiling with no regrets.

It was funny very later that after he got up from his temporary death, rather than consoling her like ‘Sakura, Don’t cry. Am alright’ or anything, he was asking ‘Where’s Naruto?’. LOL.

Even much later, when Sakura was asking him about a date, he bluntly said ‘I refuse’.

So, you’re telling me, throughout this arc, a boy blinded with hatred can able to pout, play childish games, train and die for a boy but when it comes to Sakura he can’t show his feelings???

Sorry, I don’t see romance here. Not in this arc.

Whether you agree or not, every parent has their favorite child, every child has their favorite parent. Even within your family, you always have a special person.

For Sasuke, Itachi was that person in his real family. Sakura was not that person in his Team 7 family. It was Naruto.

CHUNIN EXAMS ARC

This arc is where those SS shippers celebrates a lot and I know why. Remember earlier I talked about that shitty 50 Shades of Grey romantic trope??? The following scene vaguely falls under that pattern.

A guy loses his control because of a cursed seal and beats up the guys who hurt one of his teammates which happens to be a girl and calms down after seeing the girl.

That Infamous back hug.

I understand why SS people lose their mind with that scene. And I don’t blame them. I am going to throw their own proof at them.

So, this First databook, tells us that he finally sees both Naruto and Sakura as comrades and his heart softens from the path of revenge, a little bit.

Definitely, Sakura’s tears or love towards him stopped his rampage. But nothing says about whether Sasuke loves her back.

Much later, Sasuke also stops his cursed seal on his own after thinking about worried Sakura and a screaming Naruto (Who don’t know about this seal thingy at that time).

Well, whatever. That databook has another funny fact, that too in the same page.

LOL. Weird!!!! This accidental kiss unravels Sasuke’s heart ❤️❤️???? 🤣🤣🤣

So, influencing Sasuke’s heart can be attributed to both his teammates,according to this databook. Atleast upto this arc. There are no special feelings for Sakura alone, guys.

Proof?

If Sasuke really considers her in a romantic light (this is after that back hug), he doesn’t have to do this at all. Believe me, Love is all about subconsciously or purposefully enjoying or feeling little touches. Those touches can be through eyes, memories or physical. Sakura is delighted with his touch because she loves him but Sasuke just see her as a comrade and keeping his distance but this time very politely.

If Kishi really likes these couple, he doesn’t have to make this scene at all. It’s not just this one instance, he rejected her twice very bluntly before this saying ‘Don’t cling to me!!!’, ‘Sakura, you’re heavy!!!’.

If you say her back hug is a token of romance, then I can say ‘this’ kiss is also a token of romance. You can’t ignore one while keeping the other.

Anyways, at the end of the arc, Orochimaru is the best judge to identify who can change Sasuke’s heart. And that person is not Sakura.

DEPARTURE

she confessed and poured out her heart and he blew it off. I cringed hard and was beyond disappointed because she’s making it about herself. That’s literally how I feel about their damn “relationship”. She made it about her and her only. When he’s hurting, it’s about her. It’s so annoying and it makes me see how self-centered Sakura. When she said she understood Sasuke, I wanted to scream (I nearly did but my family is sleeping and I don’t need a lecture.) She doesn’t know Jackshit about Sasuke besides he’s the only survivor of his decease clan, he’s a loner who cares only about himself, and he’s attractive.

You know what, Larry??? You are 1000% right.

But, atleast, I thought she was genuine in the first part of the proposal, like saying ‘Revenge is not good’.....bla bla.. Because, Revenge will never satisfy a person completely and I agree. Then she took a 180 degree by saying ‘Take me with you, Sasuke-Kun. I’ll make you happy’. This is where I lost it entirely. ‘Alright Bitch, So you really don’t care about his revenge or health. As long as you have the chance to get inside his pants, you are okay with it. So you are okay with Sasuke going to Orochimaru as long as you are with him..... Fucking Shit!!!!’ This is not okay at all.

How did Sasuke respond?

“Why should I have to tell you anything”

“I’m telling you to keep your nose out of my business”

“Stop bothering me over everything I do”

Ummm..... where I come from, this screams ‘Irritation’ to me. Added to it, throughout the whole conversation he never saw her face. There was evidently no pain or anything from his face. On top the cake, here comes the cherry

“You really are...annoying”

This is where he saw her face throughout that painful confession before knocking her out. Umm... When you love someone or atleast feel for someone, you will look in their eyes and speak some farewell words before you leave. Or atleast show some pain??? There’s visibly nothing from Sasuke’s face.

Alright, I know what SS wankers will pull out here. That Databook 2 with some vague words. I am going to throw this at them.

Again, like I acknowledged before, he considers her as a comrade and part of a family. So, her existence also eased his loneliness. But you have to look at the word choice here. “The one that filled his lonely existence was Sakura”. It’s not the ‘Only’ person. Before he left he said ‘Thanks’. Meaning, Thanks for all these days. That’s all between us.

This piece was about the Team 7 picture. So he acknowledges, he was not alone during his genin days because of his companions and Kakashi (so it’s not just Sakura to ease his loneliness). Whatever he said to Sakura was real.

So can we safely confirm “You’re annoying” is real????

But what’s really interesting is the way Sasuke projects himself before Naruto. I am going to refrain myself from attaching all those rollercoaster of emotions flowed throughout the fight in VoTE 1. Otherwise, it will become an SNS post.

However, this particular scene caught my attention.

Ummm.... Initially Sasuke walks without looking at Naruto. Then he looks back and answers him.

Naruto was pretty much asking the same question as Sakura. “Why does it come to this?”

But Sasuke pauses and surprised for a moment and asks him pretty much “Why do you care about me?”

Why couldn’t Sasuke do the same with Sakura???? Kishi can pretty much make a panel or two rather than making some insulting panels.

Anyways, If they throw the databook, then I can also throw the same.

Alright, can someone explain the highlighted sentence for me???? Because I want to confirm whether I have a blurry vision.

Here, Sasuke is trying to punctuate Naruto as a different person from the rest of his companions. ‘his companions as well as that with Naruto’, I mean, Come on!!!! Naruto is also one of your companions along with Sakura. Why differentiate????

‘The village, companions, Naruto,....’ . Again....He is differentiating his home (village), companions (his friends), and Naruto. So who is Naruto for him? What is the need to make exception for Naruto? It’s very clear he is placing Naruto at a high pedestal for some unknown reasons.

Before this Databook dissection, remember I said something about saying Goodbye, ‘ When you love someone or at least feel for someone, you will look into that person’s eyes and speak some farewell words before you leave‘

Sasuke is doing exactly that here in this scene without saying anything.

Am sorry SS shippers, you can scream all you want about Sasuke knocked her out and left her on the bench. But there was no emotional distraught when he left her. Sasuke seemingly spent a longer time staring at Naruto than looking at Sakura when she confessed.

OROCHIMARU HIDEOUT

Well, there is nothing I can say about here for SS. He pretty much saw her and said, “Sakura, huh?”.. And that’s all. He didn’t give two shits about her.

His attention was completely on someone else.

UNDER THE BRIDGE

She sent Naruto to get Sasuke for her benefits, so she can keep him. Again, disregarding Sasuke’s feelings and what he wanted. Naruto should’ve said “I’ll bring him back because HE wants too, to keep HIM safe, not for you.”

Naruto pretty much said the same thing in this arc, Larry. Naruto, in part 1, was happy for Sakura feeling the same about Sasuke as him, that is ‘To bring him back’. And also sad that his crush really loves someone else. But after Sakura gave up on Sasuke and faking her confession, Naruto decided, ‘Alright, I want to save him personally. I don’t care about our promise anymore”.

This is where, SS ship goes into a crazy ride and it’s not a positive one.

Sasuke was on a rampage. He lost the ability to differentiate between his friends and foes. He stabbed Karin. And when he find her alive, he was about to Chidori her.

And then comes the pink princess, full of lies and deceit. And Sasuke being impatient and disgusted with her lies, he does this

Well, in part 1, she had a degree of power to change his heart. But not here. He, instead, got riled up more and even tried to kill her without a warning and that too by not looking at her face. Pathetic!!!!

This scene screams ‘Trust issues’ from both sides.

Did it stop here???

Fucking Shit!!!!!! Is there any people who still ship this nonsense?. If you are a Sakura fan, you should hate her for the lack of trust and backstabbing the person she loves,

If you are a Sasuke fan, errrrmmm.....I have nothing to say. You know what to do.

There is nothing positive here, that can make me ship them. He is killing her like a Mosquito.

If you truly loved someone in the past, even in your darkest moments, you will be honest and you cannot fake before that person.

Proof??

Here, Sasuke had a clear resolve to kill his brother, Itachi. He lived for this moment for about 8 years and immersed himself in Darkness for 3 years with Orochimaru. He could have run away, dodge or look away from Itachi. But Sasuke simply couldn’t!!! You know why?? Sasuke loved Itachi once more than anything in this world. At this moment, he is letting all those defense loose and embracing the moment and see what Itachi was about to do. Because somewhere in his heart he trusts Itachi.

But killing Sakura doesn’t make Sasuke feel anything. She is just another victim like Danzo or Karin or all those Samurais or a fucking mosquito!!!!

So you are telling me that Sasuke had feelings for her but kept it hidden all along and still tried to kill her like a pest???

Give me a fucking break!!!!

And you all know, who changed Sasuke’s heart here in this scene. It was not Sakura. There’s absolutely no reason for Sasuke to listen to that person and what’s more, Sasuke even made a promise (despite being in darkness, he had it in his heart to listen to that person) to destroy Konoha only after killing that person ..

WAR ARC

Well, this is the arc where Sakura behaves like a rabid dog on heat waiting for Sasuke and shamelessly trying to wag her tails. But Sasuke didn’t give two shits about her, not once or twice but multiple times.

MOMENT 1

An explosion was about to kill the whole shinobi alliance and this dude wants to save Jugo, his companion and Naruto, the person who will challenge his Revolution, his rival and the one whom he wants to kill. Why only Naruto??? Why not Naruto and Sakura???

Pink cherry Queen doesn’t even crossed Sasuke’s mind. Because he already threw her away in part 1.

MOMENT 2

Alright Bitch!!! The entire shinobi alliance was dying on the other side of the battlefield. And this asshole is doing a clownshow before Madara just to get inside Sasuke’s pants????

I mean, Come On!!!!

Well, if Sasuke truly likes her, he should be the one to have catched her or atleast should have asked her, ‘are you alright??’

I am sorry, where are the romantic feelings???

MOMENT 3

ROFLLLL🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

For the first time, Kishimoto is trolling those Sakutards through Sasuke’s words, what we, readers were right about all along. He is calling her useless here. And still these fake feminazis trying to ship her with him???

Don’t you guys have any self respect??? If so, this should be the moment to jump out of this trash ship.

MOMENT 4

Geez!!! You are still on this ship?????

He clearly doesn’t want to save her at all. The hawk can clearly lift 3 people. Sasuke is not even making an effort here.

And you are still yapping that he is blinded by darkness???

MOMENT 5

This is the moment SS calls it as ‘eyesmex’... While in reality, he was just looking at her and silently thanking her for helping him out. Do you know what is a real ‘eyesmex’??? I will attach it at the end.

If you guys pull this as true love, then he should have stayed in the same love till the end. But Sasuke has other ideas.

This is the one of the funniest thing in this arc. LOLLLLL

Instead of being relieved that Sakura was saved, Sasuke was wondering about Kakashi’s Susanoo.....and Sharingan.

Do people still think he cares about her????

MOMENT 6

Am cackling here, while dissecting the sorry state of this ship guys 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣!!!! If something good happens to me because of SS , it’s just the way you guys are making me laugh by making a clown out of yourself!!!!

Do you guys know something? There was a man named Itachi. Before massacring his clan, the very first person he killed was his ‘supposed’ Girlfriend, named Izumi. I wouldn’t say Itachi loved her like a lover boy. It was just one sided on her part. He just talks to her when he finds a spare time and considers her a good friend.

Do you know how he killed her?

By putting her in a ‘Tsukuyomi’. And what kind of Tsukuyomi, you ask?

Can you see how he fulfilled her dreams gracefully before he was going to kill her???

Why didn’t Sasuke do this???? Why particularly select a murdering genjutsu????

MOMENT 7

He said it, finally.

He don’t love her at all. There was no hidden feelings. He admitted from his own mouth.

One day later, after the final VoTE battle ends.... After exchanging some intense feelings and even crying tears of happiness with Naruto....

Sasuke tells Sakura, ‘Sorry’....

Ummm.... That’s all???

All those negative shits happened before cannot be solved by just simply saying ‘Sorry’ and ‘Thank you’. If someone has an ounce of self-respect, they should know this is not OKAY at all...🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️

Am Sorry, but Sasuke was just being politely blunt, kind of insincere towards Sakura and turned his attention somewhere else in a matter of minutes. He was not even bothered by Sakura’s tears here. Instead staring at someone on his left. Remember I talked about touching the person physically and visually?

Sasuke is subconsciously or purposefully touching someone on his left through his eyes. Definitely it’s not Sakura. You know who it is. Remember SStards’ infamous ‘eyesmex’... I seriously believe this is a perfect example of ‘eyesmex’.

All these intense looks and feeling pain still doesn’t serve Sakura, even after pulled out of darkness. If there is a moment, where SS wants to shine, then this is where it should be. He should have told her, how he missed her all along, how he felt about hurting her, should have wiped her tears and some corny shit. But instead, Sasuke went for a long ass monologue for his friend and talking about sharing his pain.

What about your kween’s pain????

You don’t have to ship SNS. But you should know where Sasuke’s priorities are.

It’s not Sakura.

Sasuke said ‘Sorry’ to Karin too. ‘Thank you’ to Kakashi as well.

And what’s even more pathetic is, still Sakura wants to get inside Sasuke’s pants by accompanying him. Bitch, you can help your village, console your best friend Ino who lost her father, try to surpass Tsunade, improve your skills or whatever... Why bother him???

So, if you really think ‘Thank you’ as a token of love, then I can’t help it but term Sakura as a rabid dog who waits for her master to come home and throw some bones whenever he finds time. Your standards for a romantic love is piss poor and you will suffer just like Sakura in Boruto with just emptiness. All Sasuke did was poke her forehead just like Itachi which symbolizes keeping someone at a distance. He also said the same words to her just like Itachi said to him many times ‘Mata kondo da’ meaning ‘Maybe next time’. And we all knew that next time never came for Sasuke.

Now all we see is a Sasuke as an absentee father in Boruto for which I don’t blame him. He was never a marriage material in the first place. Sakura and the Manga Editors forced him and she is paying for it.

Hell, Sarada doesn’t know how her own father looks like or the truth of her mother. Both of them were miserable and I find it absolutely ridiculous when SS shippers still say “they’re in love” or they’re OTP.

All I want to say to SS shippers is, Your Ship Has Sailed Already. You cannot expect Sasuke to go lovey dovey towards Sakura with a 12 year old daughter around and for fuck’s sake, this is not a romance manga, it’s a battle manga. So stop dreaming about this kind of non-existential romance and pull yourself altogether.

#naruto analysis #ask #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #anti sakura #anti sasusaku

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comedicreliefonlyworkswhenfunny · 3 years

Text

I am against the "Americanization" of fandoms.

What this applies to

Holding non American characters (and sometimes even fans) to an American moral standard. This includes

Refusing to take into account that, first things first, America is NOT the target audience, so certain tropes that would or would not pass in the west are different in Japan.

Like seriously, quite a few of the jokes are just not going to pass or hit, because they require background information that is not universal.

Assuming all American experience is standard. (This could mean watering down just how much pressure is placed on Japanese youth irl by saying that sort of thing is universal (while it is, to a degree, Japanese suicide rates are pretty fucking high because of how fast paced and work heavy some of their loads tend to be), and it's really annoying and rude when someone is trying to speak out about how heavy and harsh the standards are placed on them to succeed just for some American whose mom occasionally yells at them to do their homework dropping by to say "it's like that everywhere")

Demonizing (or wubbifying) a character using American morals, including and up to harassing fans over their interpretations or gatekeeping whether or not a character "should" get development (while you shouldn't do that fucking period, it's rude and annoying- this is specifically for the people who use American standards without acknowledging the cultural gap between them and, you know, the fucking target audience) ((Like seriously, saying "It's different in Japan" is not the end all be all excusing someone's actions, but sometimes the author didn't immediately think that maybe (insert vaguely universal thing) was that bad or that heavy of a topic before they put it into their media. If you don't want to see things like that? Pick a different series and stop harassing the fans))

Getting mad at or making fun of Japan's attempts to satirize their own culture. (A good example is Ace Attorney! To most of us, it's just a funny laugh can you imagine if courts were actually like that- guess what? Japan's are! (Not that America's are actually that much better, they just look good on paper))

Making America/American issues the center of your fan spaces

(Usually without sharing or bringing light to the issues that other countries are going through)

Your

Experiences

Are

Not

Univseral!

Seriously, very few things across America, even, are universal. Texas things the hundreds are nothing while Minnesota's like "oh it's only thirty degrees below zero"- so for fucks sake, stop assuming that all other countries work in ways similar to America.

It's good and important to share Ameican issues with your American followers, but guess what? America isn't the only country out there, and it's certainly not the only one going through bullshit. Don't pull shit like "why's no one reblogging this?" or "why should I care about what's happening in (X country)?"

Don't assume everyone lives in America.

Stop assuming everyone lives in America.

America is not and has never been the target audience for anime, and it's certainly not the only country outside of Japan that enjoys it.

Like I said above, sometimes Japan attempts to satirize its own culture. We can't tell what is and isn't meant as satire, because it's not our culture.

Social media activism can be tiring and maybe you don't have the energy to focus on things that are out of your control, but, if someone tells you about the shit they're going through, don't bring American politics up.

For the neurodivergent crowd out there thinking, "But why?" it's because a lot of social media, especially, is very heavily Americanized- sometimes to the point where people assume that everyone is American. Not to mention, it's disheartening. I'm sorry to say, but you're not actually relating to the conversation, you're often diverting the focus away from the topic at hand. Even if you mean well, America is heavily pedestaled and talked about frequently, and people from other countries are tired of America taking precedent over their own issues.

Don't divert non-American issues into American ones. Seriously. It's not your place. Please just support the original issue or move on.

Racist Bullshit

This especially goes for islanders and South Asian characters, as well as poc characters (because, yes, Japan DOES have black people)

Making "funny" racist headcanons. Not fucking cool.

Changing the canon interpretation of an explicit character of color in order to fit racist stereotypes.

Whitewashing or color draining characters. Different artistic skill sets can be hard, yes, but are you seriously going to look at someone and say "I don't feel like accurately portraying you or people that look like you, because it's difficult for me." If someone tries to correct you on your cultural depiction of a character and/or their life style, don't be an ass. (If possible, it would be nice for those that do the corrections to be polite as well, but it does get really frustrating).

Seriously, no offense guys, but, if you want to persue art, you're going to need to learn to depict different body types, skin colors, and/or ethnic features.

On that note, purposefully, willingly, or consistently inaccurately portraying people or characters of color (especially if someone in the fandom has "called you out" or specifically told you that what you're doing comes across as racist and you continue to do it). If you need help or suck at looking things up, there are references for you! Ask your followers if they have tutorials on poc (issue that you're having), whether it be bodily portrayal, facial proportions, or coloring and shading. Art is so much more fun when you can depict a wider variety, and guess what? Before you drew the same skinny, basic, white character over and over, you couldn't even draw that!

Attempting or claiming to DEPECT CULTURAL ACCURACY within a work or meta, while being completely fucking wrong. ESPECIALLY and specifically if someone calls you out, and you refuse to fix, correct, or change anything.

*little side note that the discussion revolving art is a very multilayered conversation, and it has quite a few technical potholes, which I'll bring up again farther into this post.

Fucking history

Stop demonizing or for absolute fucks sake wubbifying Japanese history because UwU Japan ♡0♡ or bringing up shit like "you know they sided with Nazis, right?" It's good to recognize poor past decisions, but literally it's not your country keep your nose out of it. And? A lot of decisions made by countries were not made by their general peoples. Even those that were, often involved heavy propaganda that made them think what they were doing was right.

Seriously, it's not your country, not your history. Unless you have some sort of higher education (but honestly even then a lot of those contain heavy bias), just don't butt in.

^^^ this also goes to all countries that are NOT Japan (specifically when people from non American countries talk about their history while in fandoms and someone wants to Amerisplain to them why "well, actually-"). When we said, "question your sources," we didn't mean "question the people who know better than you, while blindly accepting the (more than likely biased) education you were given in the past."

What this does NOT include:

Fanfiction

FANfiction

FanFICTION

FANFICTION.

Seriously, fanfiction is literally UNPAID WORK from RANDOM FANS- a lot of which who are or have started as kids. ((No, I'm not trying to excuse racist depictions of people just because they're free, please see above where I talk about learning to grow a skill and how it's possible tone bad and get good, on top of the fact that some inaccuracies are not just willful ignorance))

"Looking it up" doesn't work

"Looking it up" almost never works

Please, for fucks sake, you know that most all online search engines are heavily biased, right? Not to mention, not everything is universal across the entirety of Japan. You want to look up how the school system works in Hokkaido? Well it's different from the ones in Osaka!

Most fanfiction is meant to be an idealized version of the world. Homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, ableism, and racism are very prevalent and heavy topics that some fan authors would prefer to avoid. (Keep in mind, this is also used by some people in those minorities often because thinking about how relevant those kinds of things are is to them every day).

A lot of shit that happens in writing is purely because it's an ideal setting. I've seen a few arguments recently about how fan authors portray Japanese schools wrong- listen, I can't tell you how many random school systems I have pulled from my ass purely because (I need them to interact at these points, in these ways). Sometimes the only compliment I can think of is 'I like your shirt' or sometimes I need character A to realize that character B likes the same thing as they do, so I might ignore the fact that most all Japanese schools require uniforms, so that I can put my character in a shirt that will get someone else's attention.

Sometimes it's difficult to find information on different types of systems, and sometimes when you DO know those things, they directly rule out a plot point that needs to happen (like back on the topic of schools (from what I've seen/heard/read- which guess what? Despite being from multiple sources, might still be inaccurate!) Japanese schools don't have mandatory elective classes (outside of like gym and most of them usually learn English or another language- I've seen stuff about art classes? But the information across the board varies.), but, if I need my character to walk in and see someone completely in their element, I'm probably not going to try and gun for accuracy or make up a million and two reasons as to why this (non elective) person would possibly need something from (elective teacher) after school of all things.)

Some experiences ARE universal- or at least overlap American and Japanese norms! Like friends going to fast food places after school doesn't /sound Japanese/ or whatever, but it's not like a horrible inaccuracy to say that your characters ate at McDonald's because they were hungry. Especially when you consider that the Japanese idolization of American "culture" is also a thing.

Also I saw someone complaining about how, in December, a lot of (usually westerners) write Christmas fics! Well, not only are quite a few of those often gift fics, with it being the season if giving and all, but Japanese people do celebrate Christmas! Not as "the birth of Christ," but rather as a popularized holiday about gift giving (also pst: America isn't the only place that celebrates Christmas)

But, on that note, sometimes things like Holidays are "willfully ignorant" of what actually happens (I've made this point several times, but (also this does by no means excuse actual racism)), because, again: plot convenience! Hey what IF they celebrated Halloween by Trick or Treating? What if Easter was a thing and they got to watch their kids or younger siblings crawl around on the ground looking for tiny plastic eggs?

Fanfiction authors can put in hours of work for one or two thousand words- let alone ten thousand words, fifty thousand words, a hundred thousand words. And all of these are free. There is absolutely no (legal) way to make money off of their fanworks, but they spent hours, days, weeks, months- sometimes even years- writing. It is so unnecessary to EXPECT or REQUIRE them to spend even more hours looking up shit that, no offense, almost no one is going to notice. No one is going go care that all of my combini prices are accurate or that I wrote a fic with a Japanese map of a train station that I had to backwards search three times to find an English version that I could read.

Not everyone has the attention span or ability to spend hours of research before writing a single word. Neurodivergent people are literally a thing yall. Instead of producing the perfectly pretty accurate version of Japan that people want to happen, what ACTUALLY happens is that the writer reads and reads and reads and either never finds the information they need or they lose the motivation to write.

^^^ (This does NOT apply to indigenous or native peoples, like Pacific Islanders or tribes that exist in real life. Please make sure that you portray tribal minorities accurately. If you can't find the information you need (assuming that the content of the series is not specifically about a tribe), please just make one up (and for fucks sake, recognize that a lot of what you've been taught about tribal practices, such as shit like human sacrifices or godly worship, is actually just propaganda.)

Not to mention, it often puts a wall in front of readers who would then need to pull up their OWN information (that may or may not be biased) just in order to interact with the fic ((okay, this one has a little bit of arguability when it comes to things like measurements and currency, because Americans don't know what a meter is and no one else knows what a foot is- either way, one of yall is going to have to look up measurements if they want to get a better understanding of the fic)). However, a lot of Americans who do write using 'feet, Fahrenheit, dollars,' also write for their American followers or friends (which really could go both ways).

On a less easily arguable side, most fic readers aren't going to open up a new tab just to search everything that the author has written (re the whole deep topics, not everyone wants to read about those sorts of things, either). Not only are you making it more difficult on the writer, but you're also making it more difficult for the reader who's now wondering why you decided to add in Grandma's Katsudon recipe, and whether or not the details you have added are accurate.

Some series, themselves, ignore Japanese norms! Piercings, hair dye, and incorrectly wearing ones uniform are frowns upon in Japanese schools- sometimes up to inflicting punishment on those students because of it. However, some anime characters still have naturally or dyed blond hair some of them still have piercings or wear their uniforms wrong. Some series aren't set specifically in Japan, but rather in a vague based-off-real-life Japan that's just slightly different (like Haikyuu and all of its different prefectures). Sometimes they're based on real places, but real places that have gone through major changes (like the Hero Academia series with its quirks and shit).

Fandom is not a full time job. Please stop treating it like it is one. Most people in fandoms have to engage in other things like school or work that most definitely take precident over frantically Googling the cultural implications of dying your hair pink in Japan.

Art is also meant to be a creative freedom and is almost always a hobby, so there are a few cracks that tend to spark debate. Like I said, it is still a hobby, something that's meant to be fun (on this note!)

If trying new things and expanding your portfolio is genuinely making you upset, it's okay to take a break from it. You're not going to get it right on the first try and please, please to everyone out there critiquing artists' works, please take this into account before you post things.

I'm sorry to say, but, while it gets frustrating to see the same things done wrong over and over again, some people are genuinely trying. If it matters enough for you to point out, please offer solutions or resources that would possibly help the artist do better (honestly this could be said about a lot of online activism). I get that they should "want" to do better (and maybe they don't and your annoyance towards them is completely justified- again, as I said, if this becomes a repeated offense and they don't listen to or care about the people trying to help them, yeah you can be a bitch if it helps you feel better- just please don't assume that everyone is willfully ignorant of how hurtful/upsetting/annoying a certain way of portraying things is), but also WANTING to do better and ACTUALLY doing better are two different things.

Maybe they didn't realize what they were doing was inaccurate. Maybe they didn't have the right tutorials. Maybe they tried to look it up, but that failed them. Either way, to some- especially neurodivergent artists- just being told that their work is bad or racist or awful isn't going to make them want to search for better resources in order to be more accurate, it's just going to make them give up.

Also! In fic and in writing, no one is going to get it right on the first try. Especially at the stage where we creators ARE merely in fan spaces is a great time to "fuck around and find out", before we bring our willfully or accidentally racist shit into monetized media. Absolutely hold your fan creators to higher standards, but literally fan work has so little actual impact on popular media (and this goes for just about every debate about fan spaces), and constructive criticism as well as routine practice can mean worlds for representation in future media. NOT allowing for mistakes in micro spaces like fandoms is how you get genuinely harmful or just... bad... portrayals of minorities in popularized media that DOES have an impact on the greater public. OR you get a bunch of creators who are too afraid to walk out of their own little bubbles, because what if they get it wrong and everyone turns against them. It's better to just "stick with what they know" (hobbies are something that you are meant to get better at, even if that is a slow road- for all of my writers and artists out there, it does take time, but you will get it. To everyone else, please do speak up about things that are wrong, but don't make it all about what's wrong and please don't be rude. It's frustrating on both ends, so, if you can, please try not to escalate the situation more.)

Anyways, I'm tired of everyone holding fictional characters to American Puritanical standards, but I'm also tired of seeing every "stop Americanizing fandom" somehow loop into fanfiction and how all authors who don't make their fics as accurate as possible are actually just racist and perpetuating or enabling America's take over of the world or some shit.

Fan interpretation of published media is different than fan creation of mon monetized media. Americans dominating or monopolizing spaces meant for all fans (especially in a fandom that was never meant for them to begin with) is annoying and can be harmful sometimes. Americans writing out their own personal experience using random fictional characters (more often than not) isn't.

#just google it #better represent real life #if you tell a fic reader to ngl you're being pretty ableist and don't really have a good idea of how search engines work #also when people DO try to make culturally accurate fics often times at least one or two people will pop in and say 'actually that's wrong'#not to mention sometimes they might not even be right to begin with...#and okay once or twice it is what it is #but seriously if this keeps happening over and over most people are just going to stop writing or caring #fanfiction #fanfiction is literally free #fanfiction is free labor #adding layers upon layers of research and knowledge needed- on top of how difficult it can be to portray human emotion #it's not going to it's just going to make once starry eyed writers loss their ability to enjoy their work #and guess what #some ACTUALLY racist (or homophobic or transphobic or misogynistic) writer is going to swoop in not giving two fucks #and they're going to go on and get their work published because they don't care about accuracy

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sarahwroteathing · 3 years

Text

Take a Chance (2)

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Word Count: 1062

Summary: Sam draws you out of your comfort zone to spend an evening with the team.

Warnings: Vague social anxiety

A/N: Look at me posting twice in a week! Wack. Chapter 1 if you missed it

@star-spangled-bingo 2021 Square Fill: Cuddling

That weekend, after much coaxing (whining), arguing (complaining), and outright bribery (outright bribery), Sam convinced you to spend an evening with him and his fellow Avengers. A hard won victory considering you generally spent any time off as far away from the compound and all associated individuals as possible.

“You are going to owe me at least ten favors for this,” you sighed when Sam met you at the elevator, tugging self consciously at the hem of your skirt.

“And here I was about to tell you how nice you look. I’m gonna owe you favors for hanging out with me?” Sam offered you his arm with a curious smile, and you took it without hesitation, eyes still flashing around the room, cataloguing the showroom- esque furnishings and the impressive people they supported. Bucky and Steve lounging on a couch, beers in hand. Clint sprawled on the floor, apparently already asleep while Wanda tossed pretzels at him. The relative relaxation in the room didn’t ease your tension in the slightest.

“You’re gonna owe me favors for making me come back here and spend my day off with people who probably consider themselves my bosses,” you corrected in a low voice, flashing a smile and wave at the few calls of greeting your entrance had prompted.

“Oh trust me, nobody here is stupid enough to try bossing you around,” a new voice cut in, making both you and Sam jolt in surprise. Natasha materialized at your side, linking her arm with yours in a familiar way Sam wasn't sure your relationship warranted. “Steve might even be scared of you.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “He is in no way afraid of me. What am I gonna do? Write a strongly worded email?”

“He’s impressed by you. Which I think is the closest he gets to being scared of someone,” Sam said, not missing the pleased little smirk that flickered across your lips for a moment.

“You been bragging on me, Sam?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder and fluttering your eyelashes in a way that made his stomach flip despite your teasing smile.

“Constantly,” Natasha answered as she started to steer you towards the low couches on the right side of the room.

“Interesting.” You dragged Sam along with you, keeping a firm grip on his arm to avoid separation. “And here I thought all he did was complain about how much time I spend at work.”

“He does that too,” Bucky mumbled from his place on the couch, leveling a baleful look at Sam. “It’s annoying.”

“It is annoying,” you agreed, earning a begrudging nod of approval from Barnes before Steve hopped up from his seat with a polite smile.

“It’s nice to see you out from behind the desk though. Thanks for joining us.” He offered you his hand, but Sam slapped it down.

“Man, you’re not interviewing her. This is a movie night.”

Steve held up his hands in surrender, an annoyingly knowing smile on his lips.

“Fine. Plenty of food and drinks on the table. Help yourself since manners are off limits.”

Sam rolled his eyes and followed you to the table as Natasha shook a dozing Clint awake.

“What movie are we watching?” you asked quietly, nudging Sam gently as he poured your drinks.

Natasha is the one who answered.

“We’ve been doing a tour of the genre classics. Tonight is the original Friday the 13th.”

“Brace yourself for Kevin Bacon in tiny red shorts,” Clint said with a yawn. “It's a lot to handle sober, so I suggest drinking. Heavily.”

“Can’t be any smaller than the blue ones Steve used to wear,” Bucky commented mildly. “But maybe the tights helped.”

“Wait - ”

“What?”

“You have no proof,” Steve responded smugly.

“I’m sure some of those posters survived.”

“None that made the shorts obvious.”

“There will obviously be some in-depth internet searching after this is over, but let’s focus up. We’ve got a movie to heckle,” Sam cut in as you tugged him onto an empty couch with you.

There was a chorus of sighs and vague shuffling as everyone claimed their spaces and settled in.

Under different circumstances, Sam might have considered this a successful movie night. Clint and Natasha offered well-timed commentary, and Steve and Wanda’s purposefully stupid questions made even Bucky laugh. But while you smiled along and responded cheerfully to any comments directed your way, you never seemed fully engaged. Your posture just a bit too stiff, laughter coming a beat too late, like you weren’t sure it was welcome. Like you didn’t know it was Sam’s favorite sound.

You were out of your element here, far past the bounds of your comfort zone, and it showed. But it was a sacrifice you were making for him, because he wanted you here, because he’d asked.

Most days, Sam couldn’t tell whether you liked him the way that he liked you. He still couldn’t. But maybe you being here meant something. So he decided to try again.

Sam carefully slid his hand into yours, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen as another camp counselor met a grizzly fate. He caught your glance in his peripheral vision but didn’t turn, keeping his demeanor casual and calm as your fingers laced together and you scooted closer on the couch.

“All the things you’ve seen, and scary movies can still getcha, huh?” you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze.

And no that wasn’t at all why he wanted to hold your hand, but it was hard to correct you when you were looking at him like that. Your eyes were sympathetic, smile comforting, as you reached to press his hand between both of yours.

“Guess so,” Sam answered evenly, thoroughly enjoying the way your thumb stroked gently over his wrist.

A conspiratorial spark flickered into your eyes and you leaned a bit closer.

“As long as you don’t sleep with Kevin Bacon I think you should be fine.”

“Damn. There go my evening plans.”

There was a laugh, a genuine one, sudden enough to make you snort as you dropped your head against his shoulder to muffle the sound. Sam grinned as you made an effort to calm yourself. You turned to face the movie again but stayed nestled against his shoulder, giving his hand another squeeze when he tilted his head to rest it against yours.

------------------

We’ve got these two crazy kids cuddling, and that’s what I call PROGRESS. What’s the mood? How are we feeling about their prospects? What would you like to see from them?

Reblogs, comments, and asks make the world go round!

Chapter 3

-------------------

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @kennadance14 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @jacks-on-krack @a-book-pressed-rose @fvckjamesbarnes @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @breezy1415 @orangespocks

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson series #ssb2021

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blazingparker · 3 years

Text

What’s Up, Danger? (Chapter 3)

Here it is! the final chapter of What’s Up, Danger? As I’ve said before, I was totally blown away by the response to this fic. Thank you to all of you who commented, left kudos, reblogged, and everything else!!

read it on ao3!

---

“JARVIS, what time is it?” Tony called out as he fiddled with repairing one of the gauntlets on one of his older suits. It had gotten damaged during the battle of Sokovia, and he’d just built a new one rather than ever repairing it. Now, with his refusal to go after Spider-Man and the lack of other missions, he’d had plenty of time to catch up on lab projects and even fix up his old suit.

“It is currently 2:37 in the morning on Friday, January 25th, sir. Might I suggest you retire and get some rest?” Tony frowned, setting down his tools. Peter still hadn’t called him, and he never stayed out patrolling this late when he had a class the next day.

Peter. The last few weeks with Peter had been some of the best of Tony’s life, hands down. While they still hadn’t defined their relationship, they were more than friends and there were definitely too many feelings involved for them to just be fuck buddies.

For once, Tony didn’t dread the early hours of the morning when JARVIS would hound him to head to bed. He’d talk on the phone with Peter, listen to how his day went and maybe tell him about his latest project before they would hang up with whispered words of affection and head to bed. On particularly good nights, he’d meet Peter in his apartment with takeout (Tony wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking he could cook, come on) and they’d cuddle up on the couch with a movie. Sometimes, he’d need to stitch Peter up or help him out of his suit to tend to his injuries, which he was always more than happy to do. Things were perfect. They were perfect.

In fact, the only reason why Tony hadn’t asked Peter to be his boyfriend yet was because he knew the young man had enough on his plate without adding the media frenzy that came with dating a billionaire. Not to mention the Avengers would find out, and that would make it even harder for Peter to keep his identity a secret.

Tony wasn’t really known for being a patient man, but for Peter? For Peter, he’d wait.

Well, not tonight. Tonight, he was done waiting. It was close to three in the morning and Peter still hadn’t called, which was highly unusual.

“JARVIS, pull up the local news.” Tony turned and leaned back against the lab table and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. Maybe Peter had gotten held up with a bigger issue, like another burning building or a larger threat that required more time to take care of. If that was the case, the local news would definitely be covering it.

What they were actually covering made him drop his coffee mug, the ceramic dish shattering when it made impact with the floor.

A blonde newscaster was speaking, but Tony tuned her out in favor of reading the tagline and watching the footage.

Spider-Man Abducted by the Avengers. There was a shaky video, likely recorded by an unassuming passerby, of Peter standing on a roof with his chest heaving. Then, out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason, he tensed. A second later, a dart could be seen sticking out of his neck. Tony’s chest filled with dread as he watched Peter pluck it out and stare at it, swaying in place. When Peter collapsed, Tony actually made a move as if he could catch the young man, and felt fury bubble up when he saw what happened next.

Steve fucking Rogers caught Peter, quickly restraining him with a pair of vibranium cuffs before slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him off.

“--people of Queens are furious. There are talks of a march on Avengers tower. They have protected us from larger threats, yes. But Spider-Man was the one looking out for the people of Queens and New York at large every day. Where were the Avengers when Lacy Collins was almost assaulted last week, when Spider-Man rescued her? Where were the Avengers--”

Tony wasn’t listening anymore. The newscaster was right, of course, Peter was better than all of them. Peter deserved nothing but the Avengers’ respect and instead he’d gotten a dart to the neck and vibranium cuffs. He stormed out of the lab, grabbing his cell phone.

“JARVIS, dial Patriotic Fucker,” he all but growled as he got into the elevator. “And take me to the suit lab on level forty. The one with the landing platform.” There was no way they’d bring Peter back to the tower, which meant Tony needed a suit. Now.

“Tony, we caught him!” Steve cried out after picking up on the first ring.

“How fucking dare you,” Tony said lowly. “The mission was to learn his identity, Rogers. Not drug him and arrest him!” By the end, he was yelling into the phone. “Where the fuck did you take him?”

“Tony-I thought this was the best course of action. He was avoiding us even more.”

“Because Clint took a fucking shot at him! If an Avenger tried to take you out, would you really be peachy-keen and excited to chat?!” Tony screamed. “You star-spangled shit, you’ve compromised everything! As if he’s ever going to work with us now, after this little stunt! Not to mention they’re talking about protests against us on the news!” Taking a deep breath, he exited the elevator and made a beeline for the nanotech suit he’d just finished up. Grabbing the little housing unit, he placed it against his chest and double-tapped it, allowing the suit to encase his body.

“Clint and I are with him at the compound. We’re upstate.” Steve’s reply came after a beat of silence, and he actually sounded remorseful. Fucking finally, Tony had a location. He blasted out of the lab and away from the tower, JARVIS automatically plugging in directions for the fastest route to the compound.

“Did Natasha know about this? What about Banner, or Thor?” Tony barked out, determined to get as much information as possible before he got there. He wanted to be able to put his full focus on Peter, not these idiots.

“No. Clint and I made the call. They’re not to blame for this, Tony.”

“Oh, and that makes things better? You kidnapped my-” Tony hesitated. Peter wasn’t technically his anything. “My Spider-Man,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a chat about that, Tony. About the Stark Tech he’s wearing, and how your number is saved in his phone under the name ‘Snarky Bitch’. You’ve known. You knew this kid and didn’t tell the team.” Tony found his blood running cold for the second time that night.

You knew this kid.

“Steve Rogers, did you take off his mask?” He yelled, and the silence on the other end was enough of an answer. Feeling fury take over, Tony let go of any semblance of restraint he still had. That was the final straw. Peter had taken his secret identity incredibly seriously, and he deserved to reveal it to whomever he chose. Not have that choice taken from him.

“Yes, I know him. I know his name, and I’ve been helping him out,” Tony seethed. “Unlike you, you frozen fuck, I got him to trust me. He trusted me, and I helped him in return. He deserved that much. He’s sweet and kind and everything the world seems to think you are. But they were wrong. The great Captain America that the world knows would never drug and kidnap a college kid just because they didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Tony.” The voice on the other end cracked, and Tony smirked. Steve knew he was right.

“I expect you to be gone by the time I get there, which will be in about twenty minutes. You’d better stay away from him until I say otherwise, or I swear on my mother’s grave that your face will be meeting my gauntlet. Capische?”

“Understood. And-for what it’s worth, Tony, I’m sorry. I really thought this was the right call.” Tony huffed out a sigh.

“For future reference, if the plan involves drugs and kidnapping, it’s not the right call.” With that, he hung up on Steve and focused on getting to the compound as fast as he could. After a painstakingly long flight he arrived, storming through the doors and down to the detention level where he knew Peter would be. Tony exited the suit and put it on sentry mode, striding purposefully down the hall of cells, looking, searching--

Tony came to a dead stop in front of the last cell on the right and felt his heart fall right out of his body. It was Peter: restrained to a chair, in his suit but without his mask. His head lolled to the side and if Tony couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, he might have thought the young man was dead. Each of his legs was tied down to the chair and his hands were behind his back, likely in the vibranium cuffs still.

“JARVIS, unlock,” Tony whispered weakly, and rushed in as soon as the glass door slid open. Gently brushing Peter’s curls out of his face, he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I’m so sorry, Peter. So, so sorry,” he whispered before making his way around to the cuffs so he could get Peter’s hands free.

---

Peter woke slowly, blinking against harsh light and instinctively letting out a groan of pain when his headache made itself known. Instinctively, he tried to rub his temple and couldn’t keep from whining softly when his hands were held down.

“Sit still, Pete. Please. I’m trying, okay? I promise, I’m trying.” Tony’s voice? That didn’t make any sense, Peter had been on patrol.

Patrol.

It all came flooding back to him - the dart, his dizziness, and the vague feeling of being restrained and carried off. After that, nothing. Now, he was awake and clearly restrained and Tony was there.

Tony had sold him out? Peter didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only thing that made sense. Tony was doing something with his cuffs and he was tied down tightly, unable to move. Tony knew his routines and when he liked to head home, and could have told the Avengers when it would be best to strike. When he’d be the most exhausted.

You idiot, he thought to himself. Peter dropped his head to his chest and tried desperately to fight back tears, not wanting Tony to know he was awake. As Spider-Man, he’d been shot, stabbed, punched and kicked. But this? This hurt the worst of anything he’d ever experienced.

All of a sudden, there was a loud bang and the pressure on his hands was gone. Peter pitched forward with a squeak of surprise, not expecting to be freed. Strong hands caught him and gently eased him back into the chair.

“Peter? You back with me?” Tony was in front of him now, face etched with concern as he brushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes and moved his hands down to his wrists. The older man gently massaged them, trying to ease any soreness as Peter slowly looked up at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. Tony just stared at him, confused.

“Because Steve and Clint are idiots, and this never should have happened. Bambi, I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner, I thought you were patrolling.” Tony started to ramble, and Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t...do this?” He asked, and winced at the horror that instantly took over Tony’s face.

“I’d never. I’d never, ever do something like this to you. You’re my Danger, my sweet-hearted vigilante who puts everyone ahead of himself and who I adore. I’m so sorry. If I’d known-” Tony was cut off by the swift press of Peter’s lips against his. Peter didn’t know why he’d doubted Tony for a second. Of course he would never sell him out - why would he help him and why would they be...whatever they were...if Tony’s whole endgame was to unmask him? He would have bailed after Peter pulled the mask off that one night all those weeks ago if that had been the case.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, hiccuping as he tried to keep the tears at bay. “I just-I woke up and felt you doing something with my hands and I thought-I thought-”

“You thought I was putting you in the cuffs instead of taking you out of them,” Tony murmured in understanding. Peter just nodded as the other man focused on releasing his legs.

“I’m sorry-” he tried to repeat but was stopped by a finger against his lips. As soon as the finger was removed, it was replaced with a set of soft lips.

“No apologies, Bambi,” Tony whispered, and Peter just nodded again. He still felt exhausted and sluggish, likely because of the drugs making their way through his system. Luckily, Tony seemed to read his mind. “How about we head up to my private rooms, get something to eat, and watch a movie? Hm? Just like we always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Peter murmured back, pecking Tony’s lips one more time. He then grasped the man’s hand, slowly standing up and yelping in shock when his knees immediately gave out and he went crashing towards the floor.

That never happened, though. He was caught in a pair of strong arms and lifted up in a princess carry as Tony prevented the cold concrete from greeting his face. Peter’s arms instinctively wrapped around Tony’s neck.

“I’m sure I can walk if I could just try again,” Peter tried to protest, and Tony leaned their foreheads together.

“Let me do it. You’ve probably still got some stuff in your system, and I’ve been worried sick ever since I saw the news. Just let me take care of you. Let me take care of my-” Tony cut himself off, hesitating.

“Boyfriend,” Peter blurted out before staring at Tony with wide eyes. You don’t know that he wants that, Parker. His friends literally just drugged and kidnapped you, he’s probably just feeling protective--

“Boyfriend,” Tony repeated. A huge, real smile was plastered on his face as he held Peter even closer. “Let me take care of my boyfriend.” Blushing, Peter responded by simply pressing his face into Tony’s neck as though it would allow him to hide. After a split second, he pressed a soft kiss to the skin there. Tony nuzzled his face into Peter’s hair for a moment before turning and walking out of the cell.

“You know, I never got to hear about your night. Before all this, I mean,” Tony remarked as he carried Peter towards the elevator.

“I guess not,” Peter mused, pulling back just enough to look up at his boyfriend. Boyfriend, he could say that now.

“So...what’s up, Danger?”

“Oh my god.”

#blazingparker writes #starker #starker fic #starker community #peter parker x tony stark

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isthisanything · 3 years

Text

WC/DC Week - Accidental Engagement

WC/DC Week Day 3

Prompts: “Look who’s coming to dinner.” - Family/Romantic Partner Meets the White Collar Unit - Parent & Child - Reunion

Rating: Teen

Title: Accidental Engagement

Summary: Tim!Neal gets engaged in the middle of the White Collar offices.

@whitecollar-dc-week (sorry it’s a few days late, on here)

“Hey, Babybird.”

Tim nearly spilled his coffee at the words. He was sitting at his desk in full view of the rest of the White Collar unit, and apparently his dumbass wanted to visit him at work. Tim mentally cursed Jason for tempting fate to blow his cover.

“What are you doing here, Jaybird?” Tim replied.

Jason casually walked around the side of Tim’s desk and sat on the corner. Leaning into Tim’s personal space, he whispered, “I’m here to see you, Timmy.”

Both of them had been able to feel the eyes of almost the entire rest of the White Collar unit looking at them. Jason would jokingly say it’s because of his good looks, but Tim would tell you that it’s just a fact. Especially, in the White Collar offices. They would be wondering who this handsome stranger with blue eyes and black hair is, and why he was talking to Neal.

Tim pushed him away at those words. “It is too early for your,” Tim waved one of his hands vaguely as he tried to summon up the word he wanted. “…shenanigans.” Tim took another sip of his coffee.

“Neal, you feel like introducing me to your, friend here?” Peter prompted as he walked up to Neal’s desk, and the pair sat at it.

“Oh, Prettybird, I’m offended! We’re planning the wedding, and you haven’t even mentioned me to your coworkers?” Jason said with mock offense. Turning to Peter, he said, “You can call me Jason.”

Tim let his head hit his desk at Jason’s words. So, that was why he was here. He had found out that Tim was planning to propose. “How’d you find out, Jay?”

“Well, putting the ring you’re going to use to propose anywhere in our apartment was a dumb move, love. I know you’re smarter than that.” Jason said.

“Well, I couldn’t leave it with our siblings. They would’ve just told you.” Tim said.

Peter didn’t let the confusion at Neal’s wording cross his face. Our siblings?

“Cass wouldn’t have said anything. Dami would probably just throw a few knives at me and then not tell me why.” Jason responded.

Peter had to put in an even greater amount of effort into hiding his confusion at Jason’s words. Who’s sibling threw knives at them? And who talked about it so casually?

Tim just waved Jason’s response away vaguely. “Yeah, but if Cass slips to Steph, or Dami to Dick, they will end up telling you. Steph and Dick have no filter, remember?”

“Fair enough.” Jason said. A mischievous grin curled onto Jason’s lips, “Are you even going to ask me what my answer would be?”

“Considering the fact that you decided to come into my place of work to have this conversation, and you made a remark about us planning the wedding, I assumed that was your roundabout way of saying yes. Or am I incorrect in that assumption?” Tim’s voice didn’t bely his nervousness at what Jason might say, but his eyes did.

Jason could see, the worry in Tim’s features as he waited for Jason to tell him whether he was correct or not. It almost that there was even a small part of Tim that thought Jason might turn him down. They had been dating for almost 5 years now. Jason had been considering proposing for a while but wasn’t sure how to ask Tim if that was a thing he wanted.

“Of course, I want to marry you, Prettybird!” Jason smiled brightly and pecked Tim on the lips, just a quick kiss due to their angle.

The smile on Tim’s face was blindingly happy. On impulse, he stood from his chair and kissed Jason. Both of Tim’s hands cradling his face gently, as they kissed way more passionately than was probably strictly appropriate for a place of work.

They both separated at the sound of Peter clearing his throat. Tim attempted to look a little sheepish, but his wide smile ripped that look to shreds. “Sorry, Peter.”

Peter waves Tim’s apology away. “Congrats on the engagement, I guess.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Tim said, starting to reign in his features.

“Just because I’m congratulating you doesn’t mean I’m letting you leave early, Neal.” Peter told him. Both Peter and Neal still had more than a few case files to finish before they could go home.

Tim laughed, “I should’ve guessed, not even getting engaged, would get me out of work for a day.”

“Jason, you can have a few more minutes, but then Neal here has to get back to work.” Peter said.

“Fair enough.” Jason replied to Peter, and nodded his acceptance of Peter’s terms.

After he heard Jason’s agreement, Peter patted Neal on the shoulder in congratulations before he turned and headed back to his office. He would ask Neal about his siblings comment later.

As soon as Peter was out of earshot, Jason leaned into Tim ear and said, “We can celebrate later, Tim. I promise.” His voice low and purposefully seductive.

Tim hesitated at Jason’s voice before pushing him away playfully, “We better be celebrating later. I had everything planned out, and you decided to do this at my place of work.”

Jason promised Tim that he would make it up to him after work before he kissed him and left the White Collar offices. And Jason would keep that promise. Not long after their engagement, Tim told Peter the truth about who he was. Mainly, so he could ask Peter to be his best man at their wedding. Peter accepted.

The wedding was beautiful. Jason quoted some obscure piece of literature in his vows, and Tim reminded him of how they got engaged in his. It was the happiest day of both of their lives. It would take some nudging for Tim to admit it, but he wouldn’t have had Jason and him get engaged any other way. He loved Jason, and he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone else.

#white collar dc week #wcdcweek21 #wcdcweek3 #Tim!Neal #tim drake as neal caffrey #jason todd #Tim Drake #jaytim

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allthingsmustfall · 3 years

Text

For @rockscanfly ‘s prompt of “charles gets to watch arthur do embarrassing shit all the time. whats one time that arthur saw charles do something embarrassing?” which ate my brain and made me cackle incoherently to myself.

This is the ‘like thieves in the night’ verse, after they get to Serendipity and before John’s in the know:

Arthur’s been loitering near the stables, avoiding Hosea’s endless dickering to make nice with some a new foal and its weary momma, so it’s only seeing Charles’ back go rigid that makes him glance up.

It’s a bright spring morning, just barely out of the grip of winter, and they’d ridden down to the Smit’s ranch to pick up a few head of cattle for the farm, something that Arthur figures should’ve taken ten minutes, but with Hosea there’s always twenty minutes of small talk and an hour of haggling over prices, so he’d settled in for the long haul while Charles inspected the herd.

Arthur leans out of the barn to get a better look at Charles, who’d been leaning against the fence, smiling vaguely as he looked out over the rolling hills. He’s not doing that now - his hackles are up and he jumps back from the fence like he’s touched a live wire, furtively casting around like he’s looking for cover in a firefight.

Doesn’t seem to Arthur that anything’s changed, really, Hosea’s still up on the porch with the owner, and it seems his eldest daughter has stepped out to join them. She’s a nice enough girl, just turned twenty with no ring on her finger, and she’s plush and soft in the way Mary was, like she’d break should Arthur so much as look at her wrong. Matilda, Arthur remembers suddenly, her name’s Matilda.

Glancing back to Charles, he finds the man has jumped the fence, making for the side door of the stable, creeping along like he’s hunting game.

“Charles!” Matilda calls from the porch, her voice bubbling with the kind of excitement that only comes with youth. She dashes down the steps, her skirts in hand. “Daddy didn’t mention you’d be coming down too!”

From where he’s leaning, Arthur can see Charles’ face through the side window as he’s caught, and his eyes go rabbit-wide, and he mutters a curse that Arthur has only ever heard him use when he’s talking about the Army or Dutch.

“Heey there, Matilda,” he says, voice strained as he turns on his heel, still backing away slowly.

Matilda is fussing with her hair, straightening her dress as she comes up on the fence. “I told you,” she teases, “My friends call me Maddie.”

Charles makes a strained noise and backs into one of the struts holding up the stable’s overhang. “I - yes. Sorry, Maddie. I was just - just going to take a closer look at the herd -”

“You know,” Matilda says, like she’s being subtle or shy, “I never did get a chance to thank you proper for seeing me home after Glenda threw a shoe.”

Charles throws up his hands, “No need for thanking,” he says quickly. “Just - being neighborly.”

“Lending me your coat,” Matilda goes on, oblivious, “Letting me squeeze up behind you on the saddle - “

Purposefully, Arthur bites down on his knuckles to stifle a laugh .Somehow, Charles has neglected to relate this particular little story of neighborly good-deeding. Funny, that.

“I just - the weather was real bad,” Charles says, still backing away. Arthur has seen him less wary around rattlers. “Just - best for all that you got home safe -”

“It was just so - heroic,” she says, wistfully. “Daddy says you’re an American? You used to be a cowboy out on the frontier?”

“Oh no I - I just - I - just ranching, mostly,” Charles lies, because if the girl wants heroic stories, then Arthur’s got a few dozen to fill her head up with. “Nothing interesting -”

Matilda sighs gustilly, fanning her chest as she positions herself in a way she must think looks enticing, but mostly seems uncomfortable. “It sounds so romantic.”

“It’s not,” Charles says, almost plaintively. “It’s really -”

“Oh no,” she says, purposefully letting an old handkerchief flutter into the muddy paddock. “I dropped my handkerchief.” She leans over the fence, making as if to grab it, but even from this angle Arthur can tell she’s just shoving her breasts together as she leans over, deepening her cleavage with a lot of creative positioning and hope. “Would you be a dear and grab that for me?”

Charles stills, looking from the girl to the pile of manure it’s landed in and says, deliberately, “I’d just as soon leave it, miss, I think it’s ruined.”

Arthur just about has to shove his fist into his mouth to silent a peel of laughter at that, almost doubling over.

The girl pouts, but goes on unperturbed. “You know, I’m a really good baker,” she says hopefully, perking up. “I’d love to come by Serendipity sometime, just to show my appreciation. Momma says no one makes pie like me, you know. Would you like a slice of my pie, Charles?”

Charles just about yelps, probably because he backed his way onto a loose, rusty nail in the side of the barn, cowering back like he’s never done for lawmen or O’Driscolls or the god damn US Army, but it’s just as well, because that sends Arthur to the ground, wracked with silent laughter, and the shout covers the noise of him sinking to the ground.

“I don’t - like pie,” Charles says shortly, which as far as metaphors goes, ain’t even a little bit wrong. “I. My. I been stepping out with Tilly Jackson for a long while now, and she makes, uh, some real nice biscuits, though -”

“You mentioned her,” Matilda says, her voice going a bit suspicious. “I saw her ‘round the market last weekend and she seems real surprised you told me about the two of you -”

I bet she was, Arthur thinks hysterically, another peel of laughter trying to claw its way out of his throat.

“Oh no,” Charles whispers to himself, quietly. Arthur claws his way back to his feet just to see how wide his eyes have gotten, and he’s not disappointed. There’s small rodents living out in the desert with less fear of hawks than Charles has for Matilda Smit in this moment.

“-and she told me you two called things quits? She said you’re a real gentleman but you broke her heart.”

“Did she,” Charles says darkly, in a tone of voice that promised later retribution.

“I think any woman would be lucky to have you, Charles Smith,” she says, earnest and sweet, blinking big brown eyes at him like a fawn in spring.

“That’s - uh, that’s real kind, but really, it was Miss Tilly who broke, uh, my heart,” he says quickly, “I’m just. A broken man about it.”

Tactical mistake, Arthur thinks. In his misspent youth, Arthur has used that line to the exact opposite effect that Charles is hoping for.

On cue, Matilda makes an anguished noise. “Oh you poor thing,” she says, hitching her skirts up to climb over the fence. “Oh, women can be so, so cruel, you deserve yourself a good wife, and lots of babies running around -”

“No, no, no, miss, please!” Charles says, pure panic in his voice, “You’ll muddy your skirts. You just. Stay over there.”

“You’re such an gentleman,” she says, almost as if it pains her, but she at least stops trying to go over the fence. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to come around some evening,” she says, and her voice goes sly for a moment, “You know, my daddy is driving the herd down to Montreal the end of the month -”

If he was a good man, Arthur would stop this, but thank god he’s a bastard because the anguished noise that Charles makes at that invitation is one that will bring Arthur joy for years and years to come.

“I wouldn’t want to - to presume, Miss Smit -”

“Maddie!” the girl says sharply.

“Maddie! I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t want to bring you any trouble-”

“I like a bit of trouble-”

“And I just - the farm needs me -”

“You’re so responsible -”

“And I, I, uh, uh -”

“No need to get flustered, Charles,” the girl says, all sweet and understanding, “We both want the same thing-”

“Arthur!” Hosea calls jovially, striding into the barn and drawing up short when he finds Arthur doubled over, barely holding back tears of laughter. “What on earth are you-?”

“...Arthur?” Charles growls from the other side of the wall, suddenly glaring in through the window at the pair of them. “You been there the -”

“Mister Matthews,” Matilda says, sounding put out and sour, “Charles and I were just - “

“I’m real sorry, Miss Smit,” Charles says quickly, “We best be on our way. Gotta drive the cattle home -”

“Think Hosea and I could manage it the two of us,” Arthur says helpfully, palming away tears. “If you wanted to -”

“No!” Charles says, then more calmly, “No, no, I think it’s best we all three of us go, just to be sure. Sides,” he says, glaring at Arthur, “We got things to discuss when we make it home.”

Arthur flashes him a sharp, innocent smile, shrugging. “Don’t wanna get in the way of young lo-”

“I’ll go see to the horses,” Charles snaps, heaving himself over the fence and stalking away to where they’d reined up the horses, but not so fast that Matilda doesn’t have the opportunity to lean over, whisper too loudly, “End of the month!”

“What on earth was that about?” Hosea asks, frowning faintly after him.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll tell you the whole thing,” Arthur says, laughing despite himself. Charles was gonna skin him alive, but there wasn’t a force on earth that could stop him telling everyone back home.

~A few hours later~

Lenny is laughing so hard he can’t breathe, doubled over on the ground, looking near to passing out, and Sean and Karen ain’t much better off, both leaning against each other to stay upright.

“I think it’s entirely fair I said what I said,” Tilly says, unrepentant. “What on earth were you thinking? You know I’m thinking about letting Beau Montreau step out with me, and he’s skittish as a cat -”

“I’m just telling her I’m an invert,” Charles says wearily, headown on the table and, taking pity on him, Arthur quietly refills his glass. “It was a nice life here, but it’s time we moved on.”

“And break her heart?” Lenny manages, weeping with laughter. “You scoundrel.”

“Now I ain’t a jealous man,” Arthur says, enjoying this far, far too much, “But if you’re leaving me for her, best you just come out with it, do it quick like setting a bone.” Arthur makes a show of marshalling himself. “Do it now, quick, while I’m ready.”

Charles’ lashes out, but Arthur ducks the smack deftly, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his unresisting knuckles, only dropping it when the door creaks open behind them. John struts in looking pleased with himself, fresh back from town with the groceries. “Ya’ll will never guess what I heard down in town - seems Charles’s finally got himself a woman - hey, hey! What’s so goddamned funny!”

#prompts #my fic #charthur #like thieves in the night #completely self indulgent #and i have no regrets #rdr2

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Eleven)

Summary: (Y/N), Mando and the child arrive on Nevarro and meet with the town’s magistrate and marshal, and (Y/N)’s time on the planet brings back difficult memories of the Rebellion.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief description of a panic attack

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Eleven The Siege (Previous Chapter)

“Okay, now ease down on the lever…”

While Mando piloted the Razor Crest through the clouds of Nevarro, he glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N) and heaved one of his trademark sighs of exasperation. “I thought I hired a partner, not a piloting instructor.”

“I’m sorry but out of the two of us, which one crashed a ship onto an inhospitable ice planet and then straight into a harbor?” (Y/N) asked, sarcasm lacing her words; the Mandalorian didn’t say anything as he turned back around and her smile only widened. “You know, it’s funny how I can’t see your eyes and yet I always know when you’re rolling them at me.” She looked down at the child in her lap, who was busy playing with his silver orb. “Mando’s pretty silly, isn’t he, little guy?”

The child squealed in delight when she wriggled her fingers at his sides and she laughed; she’d never been very good with children but the longer she’d been near the small green child, the more comfortable she’d become with him. To her surprise, the feeling seemed to be mutual; although he still preferred to be held by Mando, there were times when he’d practically demand her attention no matter what she was already doing. It was a little odd at first, to have another being want her around so much, but she’d grown used to it.

Despite her earlier teasing, Mando managed to land the ship as smoothly as he could at the outskirts of the small town; he took the child from her and waited for her to finish strapping her blaster to her waist before lowering the back ramp. It succeeded in lowering itself halfway before seizing up and after exchanging identical sighs of defeat, they both walked out onto the ramp and jumped the short way down to the ground.

A man and a woman, who (Y/N) immediately recognized as Greef Karga and Cara Dune, stood by and watched as they approached them. Karga was the first to speak, exclaiming, “Looks like someone could use some repairs!”

Mando firmly shook his hand. “How’s my credit around here?”

“I think something can be arranged. Isn’t that right, Marshal?”

Cara smiled beside him, reaching forward to affectionately stroke the child’s large ear. “I’m sure we can work something out.” When she straightened, (Y/N) caught sight of the tattooed stripes on her right bicep and instantly recognized them as the marks of a Rebel drop soldier; before she could say or do anything, though, she met Cara’s gaze and finally noticed the small Rebel Alliance tear tattooed at the corner of her eye. (Y/N)’s blood turned to ice at the sight; she’s from Alderran, she thought with dread, hoping with all her might that the marshal couldn’t detect her hint of a Mid-Rim accent and realize she was Naboo. Within the Rebel Alliance, those from Naboo were treated with resentment by the survivors of Alderran, as they blamed the planet for the rise of the Empire, and (Y/N) quickly learned to hide her planet of origin from other Rebellion smugglers. Thankfully, though, Cara only looked at her with a curious gleam in her eye. “I see you brought a friend, Mando. Aren’t you gonna introduce us?”

“This is (Y/N), my newest crew member; I brought her on to help with my quest. (Y/N), this is Cara Dune.”

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cara.” With a nervous smile, (Y/N) shook the marshal’s outstretched hand. “Mando’s told me a little about you.”

“All good things?”

“Oh, I’m sure; Mando’s our pal, after all!” Karga clasped her hand between his and grinned. “Greef Karga. It’s an honor to welcome any friend of Mando’s to Nevarro, but especially one as charming as you.”

While (Y/N) raised a brow at his compliment, Mando rested his free hand on his hip and tilted his helmet. “The ship, Karga?”

“I’ll get my best people on it.” Karga turned to a couple of mechanics working nearby. “Hey, fellas, let’s fix this man’s ship! I want it good as new!” In the crook of Mando’s arm, the child cooed and Karga’s grin widened. “And you. Come here, little one!” Karga lifted the child up and laughed. “Have Mando and (Y/N) been taking good care of you, huh?” The magistrate looked up from the child and shot them both a stern look. “Have you two been taking good care of him?” Hearing the child coo again, Karga chuckled. “Yeah? Yeah, he said ‘yeah!’”

Still talking to the child nestled in his arms, Karga turned and began walking back to the town; the three of them followed, (Y/N) with carefully concealed reluctance. Just as she was about to tell Mando she’d rather stay with the ship and oversee its repairs, Cara glanced over at them with narrowed eyes. “So, how long have you two been working together?”

“A couple of months. We met when she hired me to help her with a job and once I saw her piloting abilities, I asked her to join my crew.” Mando didn’t elaborate further and (Y/N)’s shoulders nearly sagged in relief; she suspected that her partner had picked up on her discomfort but she wasn’t positive until he rested a comforting hand on her lower back as they made their way through a bustling market. “Looks like you two’ve been busy.”

“I myself have been steeped in clerical work,” Karga called out over his shoulder. “Marshal Dune here is to be thanked for cleaning up the town.”

Cara merely shrugged, turning her attention back to Mando. “Your ship’s not lookin’ too good.”

“We had a run-in with the New Republic.”

(Y/N) bit back a smile at her partner’s purposefully vague explanation and listened as Karga muttered, “They should leave the Outer Rim alone. If the Empire couldn’t settle it, what makes them think they can?” They stopped in front of a large building and he reached for the door’s control panel. “Here we are.”

While Karga was busy pressing buttons, Mando tilted his helmet and let out a contemplative hum. “I’m surprised to see this place still standing.”

“Just wait ‘til you see inside.” The marshal smiled before turning and following Karga into the building.

(Y/N) and Mando trailed behind, standing beside the two and taking in the scene before them; they were inside of a school room, and she’d visited enough cantinas in her lifetime to realize what the building had formerly housed. Rows of children seated at desks were listening with rapt attention as a protocol droid pointed to a star chart and lectured about the galaxy, and (Y/N)’s heart warmed at the sight.

“A school?” Mando asked, and judging by the tone of his voice, he was also endeared by the peaceful sight.

Cara grinned and nodded as they looked on. “Things have changed a lot around here.”

“We’ll leave the little one here so we can talk business.”

Her brow furrowing in concern, (Y/N) held up a hand to stop the magistrate from leaving. “Wait…”

“Wherever we go, he goes.” Mando added, worry lacing his words as he glanced down at the wide-eyed child in Karga’s arm.

“Mando, (Y/N), please. Where we’re going, you don’t wanna take a child. Trust me.”

Karga glanced between them before turning and moving to place the child at one of the empty desks near the front, and (Y/N) nervously bit her lip as Cara quietly reassured them both; the magistrate walked back to where all three of them stood and gestured for them to follow him back out to the street. Mando hesitated, still looking over at the child, and (Y/N) grabbed his gloved hand to urge him along with her; he eventually relented, walking by her side out of the school room as she reluctantly released his hand.

They followed Karga and Cara through the busy streets to an administrative building; before (Y/N) could enter behind the two men, Cara’s hand shot out and grabbed her elbow to halt her. “I haven’t done anythin’ to offend you, (Y/N), have I? I only ask ‘cause you seem a little skittish here.”

Quickly shaking her head, (Y/N) met the marshal’s concerned gaze with an apologetic smile. “No, no, of course not! It’s just that…well, I saw your stripes and…I’m a veteran, too, I was a Captain in the Alliance Fleet,” She blurted out, instantly regretting her words as she hurriedly continued. “I’m just not used to seeing other veterans, that’s all.” Realization dawned on Cara’s face and she nodded in understanding, walking alongside (Y/N) as they entered the administrative building together.

“…Mythrol here’s taken care of my books since he was a pollywog. But then he disappeared one day after a bit of ‘creative accounting.’”

(Y/N) looked on as a nervous Mythrol seated at a desk tried and failed to smile. “Magistrate Karga was generous enough to let me work off my debt. Thank you, by the way.”

“Three hundred and fifty years but who’s counting?” Karga muttered darkly, shooting the Mythrol a hard look.

“Well, if he runs off on you again, let me know.” The Mandalorian beside her remarked, and she arched a curious brow; the Mythrol must’ve been one of his last bounties before retiring from the Guild, she thought to herself, no wonder the guy looks so nervous. Not that (Y/N) could blame him, of course. From the stories Mando told about his old bounty hunting days, she thanked the Maker that no one had ever hired him to bring her in; she knew she’d never stand a chance against such a formidable hunter.

The Mythrol chuckled nervously. “Let me assure you, I do not wanna spend any more time in carbonite! Still can’t see outta my left eye…”

“Can we talk business?” Cara interrupted as she made her way over to another desk, a grim expression on her face.

Mando glanced over at (Y/N) before curtly replying, “We’re only here for repairs.”

“Which will take a while, which means you two’ll have free time on your hands, right?” Karga exchanged a look with Cara before letting out a small sigh. “And we could really use some help.”

“Help how?” (Y/N) asked, already on-edge by the magistrate’s cryptic words.

Cara leaned forward and switched on a hologram projector resting on the desk. “This is Nevarro.” She pointed to a green-hued section of the map. “We’re here. This entire area’s a green zone, completely safe. But over on this side is the problem.” After tapping the map, they watched as she zoomed in on a red-hued area not far from where they were located.

“It’s an old Imperial base.”

“It’s where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon,” Cara elaborated and Mando tensed up at the mention of Gideon’s name; (Y/N) knew a little of Mando’s adventures on Nevarro, and she also knew why her partner was so wary of the dead Imperial officer. “This base has been here since the Imperial expansion. It’s got a skeleton crew but for some reason, it hasn’t been abandoned.”

Karga nodded. “There’s a lot of heavy weaponry in that place the black market would love to dismantle and get their hands on.”

“And you wanna mop up the last of the Imperial forces before they do.”

“Mando, I just want them off my planet,” The magistrate heaved a sigh and looked over at the hologram. “If we could take out that one last base, Nevarro would be completely safe. We could be a trade anchor for the entire sector.”

“And the planet would finally be free.”

The marshal’s compelling words stirred something within (Y/N), and she immediately thought of the school room that they’d just visited. Those children have a chance to grow up on a planet free of any Imperial influence, she thought to herself, and they could be the first generation to have the childhood that none of us got but had always dreamed of. She looked over at Mando and into the visor of his helmet, giving him a barely-discernable nod.

After a moment, Mando turned back to Karga and Cara. “What are we looking at?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The journey across the lava flats of Nevarro was quick, much to (Y/N)’s relief; the Mythrol’s land speeder was small, so she sat sandwiched in between Mando and Karga in the backseat. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve been nervously excited to be seated so close to the Mandalorian, but all she could really think of was how uncomfortable it was to be squished into the backseat of a speeder beside a towering man wearing full beskar armor. Definitely not as comfortable as when you sat in his lap on Trask, she thought to herself, biting her lip as she remembered how his strong arms had wrapped so protectively around her body and how touchingly concerned his voice had been when he spoke. Giving her head a small shake, she returned her attention to her companions’ planning.

“…The whole base is powered by a reactor.”

Cara nodded from her spot in the passenger seat. “We sneak in, overload the reactor and get the hell out of there.”

“Let’s be fast, and keep the speeder running.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, silently agreeing with her partner as they turned a corner and approached the Imperial base. Once they parked the speeder, she clambered out and drew her blaster the moment her feet touched the hardened lava; she followed the others to an elevator door nestled into the rocky wall, her blaster raised as Mando examined its control panel.

After a moment, he stepped back with a frustrated sigh. “These controls are useless; they’re melted.”

The others began complaining about the poor Imperial craftsmanship, but (Y/N) was only half-listening. Her eyes were drawn up to the landing pad that was jutting out at the top of the cliff, and it might’ve been her imagination but she could’ve sworn she saw movement. Sensing that Mando had moved to stand beside her, she mumbled, “I’m getting the feeling that there’s more than a skeleton crew up there.”

“Yeah, me too; let’s check it out.” Tearing her eyes away from the landing pad, (Y/N) glanced over at Mando in time to see him holster his blaster and awkwardly raise his arm. “Um, may I?”

Her brow rose in surprise and she couldn’t help but smile. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve asked permission. Who says you can’t teach an ex-bounty hunter some manners?”

Mando tilted his helmet as he looked down at her. “Watch it, alor’ad, I could always drop you.” But as he spoke, his arm wound securely around her waist and he held her against his side while looking over at the others. “Hold tight.” Activating his jetpack, they shot up into the air and landed on the top of the cliff.

“Blast ‘em!”

(Y/N) pulled herself away from Mando and ducked down in time to avoid a blaster bolt, quickly drawing her own weapon and shooting the Stormtrooper that had missed her; another Stormtrooper jumped out from behind a pile of machinery and she shot him before he could aim his blaster. She glanced over in time to see Mando shoot one before kicking another off the landing pad and turning to look at her, and she could tell by his body language that he was just as surprised as she was. “I knew something was wrong about all this. Why would an empty base have armed Imps stationed at it?”

“I don’t know.” The doors of the elevator opened to reveal the others, their weapons drawn as they glanced down at the dead Stormtroopers. “Empty base, huh?”

Cara moved to peer over the edge of the landing pad while Karga stood beside the two of them. “The reactor should be set in the heat shaft. If we drain the cooling lines, this whole base will go up in a matter of minutes.”

Frowning, (Y/N) opened her mouth to voice her concern but was interrupted by the Mythrol, who excitedly called out, “Look, it’s a mint Trexler Marauder! You know how much we can get a lot for this on the black market?”

“And it’s gonna get vaporized like the rest of this base.” Mando snapped before gesturing towards the base’s entrance. “Now, let’s go.”

(Y/N) crouched behind the edge of the entrance beside Mando, clutching the handle of her blaster as the Mythrol opened the door. Parked inside were a handful of speeder bikes but no Stormtroopers, so they quietly began making their way through the hall to the base’s control room, holding their blasters at the ready while the grumbling Mythrol knocked out the security feed. Once they reached the control room, Cara hurried forward to take out the officer seated at a row of monitors while Mando and (Y/N) holstered their blasters and examined the controls.

“This should buy us some time,” (Y/N) mumbled, switching off all the different security feeds for the base. “Mando?”

The Mandalorian looked up from the monitor he’d been scrolling through. “I’ve found the heat shaft.” They drew their blasters as the others moved away from the dead Imperial officer. “Let’s go.”

Hastening through the hallways of the Imperial base, the five of them were on high alert for any Stormtroopers or Imperial officers. (Y/N) was on-edge as she fell into step beside Mando; she would’ve preferred a full-on assault to sneaking around, but she had faith in her partner’s plan. “The access corridor should be right past this junction.” Right as they came to the junction, Mando’s arm suddenly shot out and stopped her in her tracks just as a pair of chatting Stormtroopers walked by; she looked up into his helmet’s visor and nodded in silent thanks before following Cara down the now-empty hallway. They soon came upon a closed door and Mando gestured to the control panel beside it. “There, Mythrol, slice that door.”

(Y/N) anxiously kept watch while Karga quietly ordered, “Use the code cylinder.”

Moments later, the door slid open and (Y/N) turned away from the empty hallway, following the others through a second doorway and into the heat shaft. The first thing she registered was the strong smell of sulfur emanating from the shaft and when she moved to stand beside Mando, she looked down and saw the glowing orange lava bubbling down below.

White-hot flames. A village in smoldering ruins as people ran away screaming and crying. Stormtroopers raising their flamethrowers and blasters, leveling them at the retreating villagers and firing without hesitation…

“(Y/N)!” Two familiar strong arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her backwards, away from the edge of the heat shaft that she’d nearly toppled over; her knees gave out and she felt herself being dragged to sit against the wall as she realized that her body was shaking. In a flash, Mando was kneeling in front of her, his gloved hands resting on her shoulders. “(Y/N), what’s wrong, are you hurt?” Her voice wouldn’t work, so all she could do was shake her head and squeeze her eyes shut to block out the glow of the lava. “Osik!” He swore and she heard him hurriedly ask, “What do I do?”

“Captain. C’mon, Captain, I need you to look at me.” Cara’s voice was clear and strong in front of her, and (Y/N) forced herself to open her eyes; the marshal smiled and nodded in encouragement. “That’s it, Captain. You’re safe here, okay?” She glanced over at Mando beside her. “Stay here and try calming her down, I’ll cover Karga and Mythrol.”

Once Cara stood and made her way back to where the others stood, Mando scooted closer and held one of (Y/N)’s trembling hands between his own. “I’m here, alor’ad, but you’ve gotta snap out of it. C’mon, cyar’ika…” While she continued struggling for air, Mando took the hand he’d been holding and, without any hesitation, brought it up underneath the bottom of his helmet to rest against the skin of his face; (Y/N) blinked in surprise, unable to move her hand or look away from the visor of his helmet as he continued. “You feel that, ner cyar’ika alor’ad? I’m right here with you, no matter what, but I need you to pull yourself together so we can get the hell out of here, okay?”

Her partner’s words, spoken with such earnest conviction, combined with the grounding feel of his stubbled cheek gave (Y/N) the strength she needed to take a deep breath and nod. “I’m good, I’m good…” With Mando’s help, she eased herself up off the ground and held her blaster in her hand. “How’re we looking?”

A blaring alarm rang out and mixed with the sound of the lava churning more violently below, but Mando was quick to usher her out of the heat shaft before she could see anything else; from somewhere behind the two of them, the Mythrol called out, “All right, she’s gonna blow, let’s go! Let’s get out of here!”

The five of them ran down the hallways, their blasters still drawn and escape being the only thing on their mind. Beside (Y/N), Cara asked, “How long do we have?”

“Ten minutes at most!”

They ran faster, only stopping to flatten themselves against a wall when they heard a group of Stormtroopers running to their battle stations; at Mando’s command, they turned down a different hallway to avoid the soldiers. Soon, they rounded another corner and found themselves in a large room, where two Imperial officers stood before a computer monitor.

One officer drew his blaster. “Destroy it!” He shouted to the second officer before firing on them; (Y/N) fired back along with the others and allowed Mando to usher her off to the side for better cover. Moments later, both men were dead and the room was silent once again.

(Y/N) was about to turn towards Mando when a light-blue glow caught her eye and caused her to freeze in her tracks. They were standing in front of a wall of oval-shaped tanks, and floating within each of them were vaguely-humanoid creatures. This isn’t an Imperial military base, she thought to herself, her blood running cold at the gruesome sight.

“I thought you said this was a forward operating base.” Cara’s horrified whisper broke the silence.

“I thought it was.”

“No, this isn’t a military operation,” (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat and tore her eyes away from the tanks to look at her companions. “…This is a lab.”

Cara nodded. “We need to get into the system and figure out what’s going on.”

The Mythrol whimpered in fear. “What about the reactor?”

“Do it!”

Scrambling to comply with the marshal’s orders, the Mythrol hurried over to the computer monitors and began pressing buttons while they returned their gazes to the tanks. Mando stood beside (Y/N), his free hand clenching and un-clenching as he stared. “I don’t like this.”

“…replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure.”

They turned to see a hologram of a be-speckled man playing, and they slowly approached it as their words continued on.

“There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we’ll find a donor with a higher M-count, though. I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him.”

(Y/N)’s mouth fell open in horror and she brought her free hand up to cover it. Based on everything that Mando had told her about his past adventures, she knew that the man speaking was Dr. Pershing, the man who’d briefly experimented on the child before Mando rescued him.

“If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon.”

Her head snapped up just as Mando looked down at her, and she didn’t have to see his face to know what he was thinking. “This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead.”

Shaking his head, the Mythrol nervously replied, “No. This recording’s three days old.”

(Y/N) stared up into Mando’s visor, her eyes widening in fear. “If Gideon’s alive, then-”

Blaster fire forced them all to duck and take aim at the small group of Stormtroopers entering the room; (Y/N) shot one directly in the chest as her partner shoved her towards the wall of tanks for better cover, using his beskar-clad body to shield her as they continued exchanging blaster fire. Once all the Stormtroopers lay dead on the floor, (Y/N) pushed herself off the wall and moved to stand beside Mando, her fear for the child’s safety being the only thing on her mind.

“We need to get the kid.”

“Jet back, you’re faster that way,” Cara ordered, her blaster still raised as she nodded. “We’ll head back to the speeder and meet you in town.”

(Y/N) and Mando turned and ran out of the room, sprinting down the maze of hallways and blasting any Stormtroopers that got in their way. She realized that her partner was leading them back to the heat shaft but she set aside her discomfort for the sake of the child she’d grown to care for.

“Hold tight and don’t look down!” Mando called out to her over the loud churning of the lava as they skidded into the heat shaft. (Y/N) did as he asked, throwing her free arm around him and looking straight up at the shaft’s exposed opening high above; he held her tight and was about to activate his jetpack when a Stormtrooper appeared on the ledge across from them and fired his blaster, the bolt ricocheting off of Mando’s chest plate. (Y/N) quickly aimed her blaster and shot the Stormtrooper just as Mando spun her out of the way and shot at the two other Stormtroopers in the hallway behind them.

“Just go, I’ll cover us!” Tightening her hold on the Mandalorian, (Y/N) felt his body tense as they flew up the shaft; she quickly spotted two Stormtroopers standing at the top of the shaft and fired her blaster, killing them both with two shots. They landed harshly on the top of the cliff, and Mando let out a grunt of pain when another blaster shot rang out; she was quick to shoot the Stormtrooper and turn her attention back to Mando, who was clutching his side. “Mando! Are you hit?!”

“It’s just a graze, let’s go!” Before she could get a look at his wound her partner swept her into his arms, one arm holding her around the back and the other wrapping underneath the crook of her knees, just as he activated his jetpack again and flew them into the air.

They sped through the skies of Nevarro at breakneck speed, and all (Y/N) could do was worry about the child. Neither of them spoke, but she knew that Mando was just as anxious as she was; he kept urging his jetpack to go faster and she could feel his gloved fingers digging into her side. In no time, the town came into view and they were landing on the ground near the entrance gate.

Mando set her down and began backing away while he spoke. “Get the ship prepped for take-off, I’ll go get the kid!”

With a nod, (Y/N) turned and sprinted to the Razor Crest while he ran towards the town, her shoulders sagging in relief when she realized that the ship looked as good as new. Two mechanics tried calling out to her but she ignored them, dashing up the extended ramp and climbing the ladder into the cockpit. She threw herself down into the pilot’s seat, buckling herself in and preparing the newly-repaired ship for take-off; her experienced hands flew across the buttons and switches and in no time at all, the engines were rumbling to life.

“That’s it, baby,” (Y/N) muttered proudly, patting the side of one of the control panel’s and glancing over her shoulder in time to see Mando climbing into the cockpit, the child resting securely in the crook of his arm. “Thank the Maker!”

Mando set the child, who was preoccupied with the package of cookies in his hand, down onto one of the passenger seats and stood beside her as she slowly guided the ship upwards. “You booted everything up that quickly?”

Raising a brow at his impressed tone, she cockily replied, “I told you ex-smugglers were the better pilots. Now, strap yourselves in and let me show you how it’s done.”

The Mandalorian hurriedly secured his and the child’s restraints and once she was sure they were strapped in, (Y/N) engaged the thrusters and piloted the ship through the clear blue skies of Nevarro back towards the Imperial base. It didn’t take her long to spot their companions down below; they were in the Trexler Marauder instead of the Mythrol’s speeder and were being chased out of the rocky ravine by three TIE Fighters. The Imperial ships fired on them and began breaking away for another pass, but (Y/N) clutched the joysticks tightly in her hands and fired, shooting one ship down in one blast. The two remaining TIE Fighters broke off into opposite directions, so she pushed a lever up and followed the one on the right, climbing higher and higher into the atmosphere.

“You’d better hang on, little guy!” (Y/N) called out over her shoulder, smiling to herself when the child let out an excited squeal. As they reached the white clouds of the planet, she fired on the ship, managing to hit its wing and hastily swerve to avoid the exploding wreckage. The child giggled in delight as she switched off the engines, letting the ship fall backwards and stall in the air while the thrusters finished charging.

“Alor’ad…”

Grinning widely, (Y/N) slammed a lever up and steered the speeding ship into a corkscrew spin towards the third TIE Fighter; the small ship fired at them without landing a hit and with a simple squeeze of her finger, she fired their guns and watched with a satisfied smile as the Imperial ship blew up. After dodging the wreckage, she smoothly pulled out of their nosedive and leveled out the ship, switching the controls onto autopilot as she turned around to look at her passengers. “Not too bad, huh, guys?”

Mando merely stared back at her in stunned silence and while she flushed in embarrassment, the child blinked and threw up blue-tinted vomit onto his robe; quickly turning his attention to the guilty-looking child, her partner heaved a sigh. “Oh boy.”

“That was some impressive flying, Mando! What do I owe you?”

While the two of them used the edge of his cape to hurriedly clean up the child, Mando called out through the ship’s communication radio, “That wasn’t me flying, Karga, I told you I’d hired a hell of a pilot.” (Y/N) ducked her head to hide her bashful smile and he continued. “With the repairs, let’s call it even.”

“Can I at least buy you two a drink? I need to find out why an impressive woman like (Y/N)’s hanging around with a bum like you!”

“Sorry, we have some…onboard maintenance we’ve gotta take care of.” Seeing that the child was looking better, (Y/N) turned her attention back to the ship’s controls and switched back to manual piloting.

“Then we’ve gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.”

Karga sighed. “Well, good luck flying, my friends.”

“And Captain? May the Force be with you.”

(Y/N)’s hands stilled on the controls and the corner of her mouth curled into a small smile at Cara’s farewell. “And also with you, Soldier.”

The ship flew through the upper atmosphere of Nevarro and in no time, they were traveling through hyperspace towards their next big adventure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain Osik-Shit Cyar’ika-Darling, Sweetheart Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain

Chapter Twelve

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95 @welcometothepedroverse @sarahjkl82-blog @zukoyonce @itsnottilly

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din x reader #mando x reader #grogu #the child #baby yoda #greef karga #cara dune

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meltingheartsandcores · 3 years

Text

I’m tired, I should be studying, instead I wrote this little ficlet that should probably be the prologue to an actual fic that I might get around to writing (fingers crossed).

We have Immortals, modern sects, and porn. Not entirely sure how else to explain it except none of those are explicit, lol.

Hope you enjoy the product of my mildly sleep deprieved brain!

Being invited to have tea with Zewu-Jun was a high honor, despite the immortal seemingly trying to downplay it as much as he possibly could. However, Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure what he’s done to earn the honor. It’s been a long time since either Twin Jade was the Sect Leader, Nie Mingjue has spoken with the current Sect Leader Lan Tengfei infrequently over the years when their sect business intermingled or there was a conference, but he wasn’t particularly close to the Lan Sect. And the Twin Jades enjoy their privacy. Enough so that there’s not a single photograph of either of them out there.

So it was very startingly to get the invitation.

Zewu-Jun treating him like an equal and friend is equally startling.

Somehow, not the most startling thing to happen on the trip. No, that would be the portrait of Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang’s husband. He thinks. Nie Mingjue isn’t actually sure if they’re married or just act like it. Although, knowing them, that’s how they want everyone to think.

Still, the clearly very old portrait of Wei Wuxian was a little disturbing. Especially with the name below being Wei Wuxian’s, correct characters and all. Even more so after Zewu-Jun noticed him staring at it and decides to give him some utterly terrible information.

“My brother’s husband, from his first life.” Oh. It was that Wei Wuxian. Yiling Lazou Wei Wuxian.

How is this getting worse?

“Oh?” Because screaming was undignified and not something to be done in front of immortals. Later. In his car. And then he’s calling Nie Huaisang to yell at him because of course his brother just had to shake up with the immortals husband. Maybe. Maybe it’s just a massive coincidence. (Nie Mingjue’s luck is never good enough for coincidences.)

“Yes, after the resurrection his core was never strong enough to cultivate immortality. When Wangji realized it, he tried to stop his own cultivation, but it was too late. Wuxian lasted nearly two hundred years, and not a day goes by that Wangji doesn’t miss him.” Oh, Zewu-Jun was sad. Nothing Nie Mingjue can say will make him not sad. In fact, he’s pretty sure anything close to the truth of what Wei Wuxian is doing now will just upset him. “The juniors find it, romantic, that he’s decided to wait for Wuxian to be reincarnated.”

Well. It does sound romantic.

But Zewu-Jun’s face, he’s irritated and upset, so clearly he doesn’t agree with the juniors. It sounds romantic, but the reality, “He must be very lonely.” Nie Mingjue guesses.

Zewu-Jun nods, “We have each other, but we were the only ones from our generation to cultivate immortality. There are many people we miss, and as time seperates us further from the present, it’s harder to connect with the new disciples.” Zewu-Jun admits. Nie Mingjue nods, he’s never considered that. How isolating it must be to have lived so long. The Nie clan, doesn’t really get immortals. Honestly, they’re lucky if they hit a hundred. Most top out at eighty due to their cultivation style.

“How would he know, that he’s been reincarnated? I mean, I think Huaisang’s said some things about faces getting reused due to limited genetics and the growing population.” Actually Wei Wuxian said that. Something to that effect at least. Nie Huaisang was better with people and manipulating situations. He does really well running the business side of the Nie Sect. Even if he refuses to accept any credit.

Zewu-Jun smiles a little sadly, “Well, I suppose we’ll know when we see him. Pictures work well enough, as we’re learning. We’ve found a few people who we knew in our first lives reincarnated.”

Nie Mingjue nods, he should tell Zewu-Jun. He really should. Maybe it’s just a look alike. Unlikely. Nie Mingjue’s never that lucky. Nie Mingjue’s started to pull his phone out of his pocket before remembering his manners and asking while holding it in front of himself, “Uh, do you mind if I?” Zewu-Jun furrows his brow but gestures for him to continue. Nie Mingjue nods and opens his phone, scrolling through the pictures Nie Huaisang had sent him. Not for the first time, he really wished Nie Huaisang wouldn’t send so many half-naked or fully-naked pictures of Wei Wuxian to him. Thankfully, it was not all Nie Huaisang sent to him, so he did come across a picture of a fully dressed Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang was also there, but they weren’t doing anything. Nie Huaisang had snapped it while they were out walking and Nie Mingjue had wanted to know where the fuck Nie Huaisang had gone at one am. “Just, uh, he seemed familiar.” Nie Mingjue explains, turning the phone around to show Zewu-Jun.

Zewu-Jun blinks then reaches out, hesitating a moment before taking Nie Mingjue’s phone. “That. Is definitely Wei Wuxian.” Zewu-Jun states, and then he starts touching the screen, which makes Nie Mingjue very nervous and uncomfortable. Because Nie Huaisang sends him very questionable pictures. Nie Mingjue is happy his brother is comfortable with his body, he just wishes he wouldn’t text him explicit pictures of his maybe-boyfriend that sometimes also have him naked in them. Nie Huaisang has always like pushing Nie Mingjue’s boundaries, and honestly, Nie Mingjue would rather he be pushing this one than certain other ones. Still. It makes him nervous when Zewu-Jun taps his phone and his eyes blow wide.

Yeah. That’s not good.

Zewu-Jun blinks and regains his composure, handing the phone back, “May I ask how you know him?”

“...How honest do you want me to be?” Nie Mingjue asks, shutting off his phone and pocketing it without looking at whatever Zewu-Jun saw. He’d like to be able to keep looking Zewu-Jun in the eye for this conversation.

Zewu-Jun raises an eyebrow, almost admonishingly, “As honest as possible. You don’t seem to type to beat around the bush.”

He wasn’t. He just really didn’t want to tell Zewu-Jun what Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian get up to.

“He works with my brother.” Nie Mingjue states vaguely, earning another raised eyebrow from Zewu-Jun.

“Is he a cultivator?”

“Used to be. He had a big falling out with the Jiang a few years back and kind of stopped.” Nie Mingjue shrugs, “He doesn’t talk about it.” All he knew about it was rumour. And the Lans don’t do rumours.

“Ah. So what work does he do with Huaisang?”

...Did he tell Zewu-Jun his brothers name? Nie Huaisang is almost as unknown to the world as the Twin Jades. Purposefully so. The Nie have always been rather private with their members, but when Nie Huaisang was old enough to have an opinion on a public presence and vehemently deny having one, nothing about him was released to the public. Not even other cultivation sects as Nie Huaisang wasn’t a practicing cultivator. He trained. As he was supposed to. But he didn’t do any night hunts. He had no connection to Nie Mingjue on the business end of the Sect either.

So, what?

“How do you know his name?” Nie Mingjue asks, making Zewu-Jun blink in plain confusion. “Huaisang’s name isn’t known to anyone outside the Nie sect. Not in connection to me.” Nie Mingjue states, now a little angry. Did someone tell Zewu-Jun? Who? How? Why would he even care about Huaisang?

“He’s in your phone.” Zewu-Jun states simply.

And that’d be a fine answer.

If Nie Huaisang was ‘Huaisang’ in his phone.

But he wasn’t.

He was Reuben. Courtesy of Wei Wuxian. (Wei Wuxian was ‘Stitch’, no Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the names and he didn’t really want to. He’s mostly worried it’s a weird sex thing and he prefers to be as ignorant as possible in that aspect.)

“I thought Lan’s don’t lie.” Although, Zewu-Jun wasn’t, technically, lying.

But he doesn’t deny it. “Could we sit?” Zewu-Jun suggests, gesturing to the table that had been set up for them. Nie Mingjue nods and sits opposite to Zewu-Jun, pouring them some tea. “I apologize for the deception, however I’ve never actually done this before.” He better not be suggesting what Nie Mingjue thinks he’s suggesting. “In the recent past, when we’ve discovered our reincarnated friends, we’ve more or less left them alone.” Oh. Good. He’s not being propositioned.

Wait.

What?

Nie Mingjue blinks, now thoroughly caught off guard, “Um. What.”

Zewu-Jun smiles gently, understandingly, “Due to certain aspects of your previous life, I felt the need to check in on you, make sure you were doing well. I, well, I assumed your family was the same. Hence, why I know Huaisang’s name despite you keeping him rather off the grid.”

“He’s not off the grid. He just has no public connection to me.” Nie Huaisang was almost constantly online. Especially with his ‘job’.

“Ah. So, what work does he and Wei Wuxian do?” Zewu-Jun asks before taking a drink of his tea.

Nie Mingjue considers what he knows about the Lan, and then realizes he really doesn’t want to have this conversation. Luckily for him (or unluckily most of the time), he can just show Zewu-Jun on his phone. “Um, you might want to put that down.” Nie Mingjue suggests, pulling out his phone and turning it on, quickly going to the app Nie Huaisang downloaded on his phone that he never goes on, and opens it up to Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian’s account. Sliding it across the table as Zewu-Jun dubiously puts down his teacup.

Zewu-Jun blinks, then sighs, “I can’t say, I’m particularly surprised with Wei Wuxian’s career choice.”

“...Seriously.”

“You did not hear them. I’m aware of the publics perception of us, particularly Wangji, but trust me. He’s not nearly as prudish as people seem to think.” Zewu-Jun states, sliding the phone back with a rueful smile and a familiar look.

Nie Mingjue exits out of the app before shutting off and pocketing his phone. He knew that look. The look of an elder brother who really didn’t need to know so much about their younger brother’s sex life. He knew that look well. “Right. Speaking of Hanguang-Jun, how would he react?”

Zewu-Jun purses his lips. “I can’t say he’ll be particularly favourable. Wangji’s always been quite, possessive.”

“Wei Wuxian is persuasive. I’m kind of curious as to who would falter first.” Nie Mingjue snorts, picking up his own cup of tea. It was good tea.

Zewu-Jun’s eyebrows were furrowed, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Wuxian’s not going give up his livelyhood. He enjoys it. Even if he falls back in love with Hanguang-Jun, I’m not sure he’ll quit it.” Nie Mingjue states, shaking his head. It was an understatement. Wei Wuxian loves his job. As he so often gushes. Nie Mingjue’s honestly just happy Wei Wuxian doesn’t give him details.

Zewu-Jun slowly nods, understanding dawning, “You think Wei-gongzi will convince Wangji to do porn.” Zewu-Jun winces, “I, hate that I cannot say it’s out of the realm of possibilities.”

Nie Mingjue snorts and then smirks, “Ah, Zewu-Jun, how about a friendly bet?”

Zewu-Jun’s brows pinch slightly, eye narrowing, before he smirks, “Only if you call me Lan Xichen.”

Ohhhkay. Zewu-Jun had said to at the beginning of their meeting, but Nie Mingjue had honestly kind of ignored it. Immortals are a big deal. But then again. He was about to gamble with one. “Ok, Lan Xichen, why don’t we make a bet in favour of our, brothers.” Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure what else to refer to them as. If Nie Huaisang was married, then technically Wei Wuxian would be his brother. If they’re not, he might as well be at this point either way.

“Are Huaisang and Wuxian married?” Lan Xichen cuts in, confused.

“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe. Not important.” Nie Mingjue shakes his head, “If Hanguang-Jun manages to convince Wei Wuxian to quit his work, you win, and if Wei Wuxian manages to convince Hanguang-Jun to do porn, I win.”

Lan Xichen nods, smiling with interest, “And what are we betting?”

Nie Mingjue smirks, this was going to be fun.

#Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue #implied sangxian #implied previous wangxian #lxc #nmj #cql #The names in Mingjue’s phone are not a sex thing #It’s just the characters from Lilo and Stitch #They’re not that mean to nmj #My writing

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

dolce ♪

could I request minghao x gn reader museum date? ty!

The8 (Minghao) x (gender neutral) Reader fluff | 1.2k words

synopsis: a museum date with minghao — the place where you are at peace of mind. the place where you share fond memories and can love each other sweetly and softly.

a/n: here you go lovely anon!! i hope that this is what you're going for, it's actually (very vaguely) referencing this minghao fic that i've been working on so maybe there will be a prequel !?!?! 🤔 but either way i hope you enjoy and sorry for the wait !!!!

=====

When Minghao said the location for your next date was a surprise, you didn't hold many expectations, preferring to keep it a complete mystery until the day arrived. But as you stared out the car window and recognized the route to the museum a city over, you realized you probably should've anticipated this from the way your boyfriend was so excited for the date last night.

You quirked an eyebrow his way, which he caught in the corner of his eye, smiling sheepishly in response.

"Weren't we just here a few months ago?"

"Yes — but! One, there's a new exhibit that I'm sure you're going to love and two, they added a section of paintings and I wanted to see them with you." He replied eagerly, guilt seeping into his voice.

"Okay, okay," You conceded, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I wasn't complaining, I can't wait to see what you have in store."

"I promise it will be amazing."

=====

You knew Minghao had a plan in mind, but you couldn't help getting distracted along the way, especially when you're always finding something new that you haven't notice before.

He never uttered a word of complaint, and simply followed you with a small smile on his face.

Walking in a room full of statues that were much taller than you were, you craned your neck as you examined the small details put into their beauty.

"Hey, this guy looks kind of funny," You pointed out, gesturing at a statue that pictured the final battle cry of a famous warrior. Moving into a similar pose, you put on your angriest face and tried to recreate the statue. You paid no mind to the other museum-goers passing by.

Minghao stifled a laugh. "Wait, stay like that, I want to take a picture of you." He said, pulling out his phone and swiping to the camera.

"Okay," You said through gritted teeth, trying to keep as still as possible.

"But move over a little to the left."

You did just that, shuffling to the side stiffly.

"And make your face even angrier." He called out a few seconds later.

Though your cheeks were getting sore and it already felt like you're being the angriest you could possibly be, you did your best to furrow your eyebrows even further. The corner of your lips tugged downwards.

"No, even angrier!"

"Minghaooo!" You pouted, stomping your foot in frustration. "I'm doing my best!"

In the midst of your small outburst, you heard the faint click of the camera shutter and your boyfriend tucked his phone away with a smile. "I know you were, just wanted to tease you."

You stared at him, mouth agape as you tried to comprehend what just happened. "Are you saying I did all of that for nothing?"

"Don't worry, I got the actual picture too, so your efforts didn't go to waste I promise." To make up for it, Minghao came over and planted a kiss on your forehead. "You're really cute, you know?"

You squinted your eyes at him, still suspicious. "If you say so..."

He smiled and gave you another kiss, trying to prove his good intentions. "I would never lie about that. Let's continue, shall we?"

=====

There were many reasons why you loved the museum.

It was the first place Minghao took you to after he (finally) mustered the courage to ask you out. Things were awkward and shy and blushy, but memories were made and you left with a kiss on the cheek that you wouldn't forget.

Now, everything was familiar, it was like a second home to you, with how often Minghao loved to visit for inspiration. There were so many little things that simply made your mind at ease.

It was the way your footsteps echoed in the large room. The sense of peace and comfort. The smell of old paper and faint traces of flowers. The intricate patterns etched into the white walls and marble flooring.

But most of all, it was Minghao's hands gently laced into yours.

He walked ahead of you, tugging you along as he steered from one artwork to the next. Although you had happily followed him along on this museum date, you knew he was the one who was enjoying it the most. He's been here many times now while you have only visited on a few occasions — enough to be familiar with the building. But you didn't mind turning the same corner multiple times or reading the same passage over and over again. Because no matter how mundane the activity may seem to other people, a sparkle of excitement was constant in Minghao's eyes.

And seeing him happy made you just as happy.

=====

"It's extra quiet in here." You whispered, feeling the need to match the atmosphere of the room you just entered in.

The walls were covered in paintings, surrounding a statue in the middle. The multitude of artworks screamed talent as they made their presence obvious, and yet there was an eerie sense of loneliness. Aside from the two of you, the only other people here was an old woman, silently reading the description of the statue and one of the staff in the corner.

"It is," Minghao agreed, taking in the sight. "I think that's why this is gonna be my favourite section to visit. Come."

He pulled you to one of the nooks where a small canvas hung. It was covered in hues of pink, bleeding into the charcoal sketches that were left unkept. Then there were streaks of yellows that contrasted the pice and yet blended perfectly into the medley of colours.

It was, to put it simply, beautiful.

"I did some reading about this artist before," Minghao said. "They said that they painted this with a heart full of love."

"Is that so..." You hummed, rocking back and forth on your heels as you examined the painting. You paused when it suddenly felt all too familiar.

"Wait a minute. Weren't you painting something similar to this when we first met?"

As with any other story, there was a time where the two of you were mere strangers, randomly passing by each other on a busy day.

You had a feeling Minghao was purposefully guiding you to this conclusion, but he still blushed after being called out. "Yes it was, I was trying to recreate their style. But to be honest, I didn't know what to paint until I saw you across the street one day. Better yet, you were always there when I went to the park to paint, so it felt like the perfect piece to make. You showed me what love meant."

"That's so cheesy, but I love it." You giggled.

The grip on your hand got tighter. "You really saved me on that day, you know? I don't know where I would be if I hadn't met you."

"But we're here now, aren't we?" You replied gently, pressing yourself closer to his side. "That's all that matters, we don't need to care about the could haves."

"You're right." His gaze on the painting softened as the two of you stared at it in awe for a while longer, simply taking in its beauty and the memories it carried along with it.

When you finally left the room, hands still glued to each other, you poked his arm and sent him a teasing grin. "Next time we visit, I'll be seeing one of your paintings on here, right?"

"Maybe," he nodded thoughtfully. For once, Minghao did not deny that possibility — a small change that warmed your heart greatly.

"Only if you could be the inspiration."

#newskynet #kdiner #caratwritersclub #seventeen #the8 #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #seventeen the8 #seventeen minghao #seventeen fluff #minghao fluff #the8 fluff #nose-bandaid

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jessie-writes-things · 3 years

Text

From the Darkness | Part 1

This is a commission from the lovely @grogusmum! I'm so so so sorry for how late this is love! Life got in the way a bit. Originally I was gonna do this as one giant piece, but you've been waiting too long and so I just needed to get something out. This ended up being a bit more soft-angst rather than fluff but I tried my best to balance it out. The next part will be full-on found family fluff though! 🥰

This whole thing stemmed from that throwaway line 'I've spent much time on Tatooine' from The Marshall. Basically, I just liked the idea of Din having a somewhat secret life hidden away there. It gets explained a bit more in the second part, but that's really all the context you need right now. 😅🥰

Pairing: Din Djarin x Neutral Reader

Words: 2.5k

Genre: Found family, fluff, soft angst

Warnings: Star Wars level violence, vague mentions of PTSD/Trauma, nightmares

Summary: Din comes home to Tattooine and you spend the night on the Razor Crest.

You always heard the Razor Crest before you saw it. The loud hum of the clunky engine made you jump every single time and you had always wondered how long it would be until the ship just dropped out the sky.

Your answer came quicker than you thought. It was around midnight when the first signs came, snippets of voices fluttered by like quiet, sleep-laced whispers on the wind.

See you we do! Coming home we are!

Then came the ship barrelling onto the landing pad, and you weren’t dramatic in saying you thought the planet was about to explode; walls rumbling, ground vibrating. Peli had been prompted to spew out a few choice words, stepping outside just as you did to watch the slivers of silver moonlight spring off the ship as it finally settled down.

The landing had been…less than graceful to say the least. The engine sounded worse than you’ve ever heard. One of her feet had been ripped clear off, making her tilt to the side at an unnerving angle and you didn’t even want to think about the number of outer plates there were to replace.

What worried you more was the look of annoyance on your boss’s face, pinched and red, and you just had enough time to convince her to head back to bed, promising to deal with The Mandalorian until morning. And thank every planet in the galaxy she listened because if the Crest hadn’t woken up the neighbourhood, you knew she sure as hell would of.

There was an etiquette, you learned through years of working on the hanger; you should never enter a person’s ship first. To regulars, it was like walking into someone’s home without being invited. But so early in the morning you weren’t for niceties.

You walked up that ramp like pray on a hunt, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and you may have stumbled a bit, but it was a hunt.

The Mandalorian was clearly waiting for you, sitting in the cockpit, the baby asleep in his pod although you had no doubt he was listening to every word.

Very out of character, he was the first to speak, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘It’s okay.’ It wasn’t…well, it was. You were just grumpy and tired and wanted to go back to bed, ‘She looks a mess.’

‘Can you fix her?’

You had assumed her mess from the work of another bounty gone wrong, maybe Mar again but you weren’t in the right mind to ask. ‘Depends.’

‘On?’

‘What you’re about to ask me to do next.’

There was a silence, a comfortable one but silence, nevertheless. Eyes heavy, you were fading fast, head resting against the passenger seat you had claimed as your own. You weren’t too sure if you had fallen asleep or not. You closed your eyes for what felt like a moment too long and when they opened again, Din had shifted his seat to look at you.

‘We need to stay for a few days.’ His head tilted like a little puppy dog. Helmet still on, you were left trying to imagine how he looked in that moment; eyes squinted, crinkled around the sides in admiration.

Not the exact words you wanted to hear, but not surprising in the slightest.

You decided to push again, ‘Anything else?’

He was smiling, at least you were sure he was, his voice sounding a little lighter despite the artificial muffle of the modulator, ‘Come to bed?’

---

I caught a frog today. Very big frog. I wanted to show you. But ManDad was not very happy with the frog in the big ship. So I ate it, I did. Miss you lots, I did. And so did ManDad. Smiles when he thinks about you, he does. I feel the happiness. Thank you for making him happy.

---

Turns out it hadn’t been Mar that took a hit at his ship.

There had been an incident, Din told you in the quiet of darkness, arms wrapped around you, his head buried safely. Long tufts of hair tickled your jaw and chin whenever he moved or talked, about due for a haircut but that was a battle for another day.

‘Moff Gideon is dead.’ But so was Kuill, the kind Ugnaught who had helped at the start of all this mess. Whatever was left of the Empire was still after the kid and Din still needed to find the Jedi. ‘Karga’s still alive.’

‘I thought he double-crossed you?’ At some point his head had moved onto your chest, letting your fingers card through his hair. You could just about see his face in the small cracks of light, not that he needed to hide anymore, sometimes you think the dark was comforting for him.

The smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips and you really hoped it was because of your touch and not the thought of the Guild agent. Small wins and all that, you guessed. Better to have Greef around than no one at all.

‘I can’t stay long.’ His voice wavered, ever so slightly. You had become accustomed to the bittersweetness of it all, stroking the back of his neck as your heavy eyes began to droop again.

‘That’s okay.’ While it felt like a brick being thrown at your chest, you understood. Truly. The entire Empire was after the kid and, subsequently, him. Not to mention the constant battle against other hunters who had it out for his head.

Because while you knew time was finite with him, at least you had something.

---

Happy to be home we are. ManDad gets lonely sometimes. Feel it I do. I try my best to make him smile but sometimes it does not work. Make him happy, you do. A man should not be lonely for too long, he must not, for loneliness can be deadly. When I am gone, look after him you must. Promise?

---

Quiet moments in the dark were always the loudest for Grogu. Like father like son, you guessed. Neither of them liked the stillness much, both of their minds racing faster than the speed of light. It was always easier to read them in these moments. Flashes of images blended into a mosaic behind your eyes as you tried to hold down a specific part of a memory or a dream.

Some nights it was easier than others. There were times Grogu would sense you in his mind and would purposefully push an image forward, always something he thought was silly like a particularly funny looking frog or a memory of Din singing to some cheesy eighties song you had left behind on a CD during their last visit.

The colourful rhythm and syncopated beats making the walls of the Razor Crest dance along with them and you did everything not to burst out laughing in the still night, biting your lip only for a small snort to escape. Din caught on, barely opening his eyes a crack to mumble out some half-arsed are you okay before rolling over and heading back to sleep again.

It was easier to read Din when he was asleep. Not that you did it much or even intended to in the first place. But sleep tore down the walls he had spent years building up, subconsciously pushing the dreams into your mind. If Grogu’s thoughts were a lulled whisper, Din’s were white noise. Fuzzy static took up most of the space, at times slipping to let through blips of voices or a grainy picture of long past memories. They were too quick to get a full idea of what he was dreaming about.

A boy.

The pop of blasters.

A woman screaming.

One deep breath and the image faded. Din would wake for a moment, eyes closed and he’d turn back to face you. His chest shook, barely and nothing noticeable normally, but you caught it, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, and mumbling a soft it’s okay as he settled back into you.

---

Today was not so bad, it was not. But sometimes I still think about the dark place. Scary and lonely was I. For a long, long time. Then there’s light and I see ManDad for the first time. And then everything is better, it is! No longer do I need to fear the dark.

---

Like always, Grogu climbed out of his pod early morning and forced the doors of the sleeping pad open, giving him room to wiggle his way between Din and you. These were the times you’d feel the tug of his mind at the doors of yours, asking permission to be allowed in.

If your consciousness was awake enough, you’d let him, letting the Green Bean explore the distorted images of Earth and your past life. You would find him standing next to you, present you, in the middle of the dirtied street, dark and damp as rain pounded on the concrete around you, drowning out the screams of the people as they rushed by.

He’d hold his arms up, a quiet hold me please passing by and you’d take him in your arms, holding him close. Sparks of fear rolled through you, weighed down by dread and it was hard to tell if it was coming from Grogu or your past self.

Clouds filled the sky like grey shadows. It had taken you a long time to realise they weren’t normal, that the clouds were too big, were floating by too quick to be anything natural.

That had been the first time you saw them. Aliens. Or what people on Earth would think of as aliens. Tall, grey, slimy, the stuff you had only ever seen on TV and they were now shooting from the skies in streaks of red light. Streets pathed in dust that smelt like ash and day-old water.

The two of you walked through the mess like ghosts, people running left and right and through you, some in slow motion while some were ungodly in their speed. They all died in the end. Zapped out of existence by a singular lazar.

Someone yelled about children. Save the children. Spare the children. Collect the children. Round them up near the hanger, discard the ones we don’t need, you know the ones I mean, don’t talk back to me. Their voice washed over you in cold chills, sounding so far underwater that they might as well not be there at all.

A man stopped in front of you. Tall dressed in all black. A human man staring right at you. He didn’t look panicked like the rest, was calm and collected as he pulled out his gun and aimed so perfectly right at your head. You didn’t move, didn’t duck for cover as he pulled the trigger.

You should know better than to look.

There’s a woman behind you. Was a woman behind you. She’s dead when you turn around, a pile of smoking ash on the cobbled path, already being washed away by the rain.

Then there was the child, arms still stretched out to hold their mother’s hand, eyes wide in fear but they don’t cry. No matter how much their heart is racing. No matter how much they want to scream as the man grabs their arm and drags them away, throwing them in line with the rest of them, waiting for their turn to be scanned and thrown in the hanger.

They don’t scream, even when the doors slam shut and darkness is all that’s left.

---

Awake, are you? Sleep I cannot. Wonder if ManDad knows how much I love him, I do. ManDad is amazing he is. He saved me from the dark and keeps me safe, he does. Let’s me eat cookies, he does. Such lovely cookies. Try some, you must. But ManDad hurts, I feel. Feel his heavy heart, I do. So much pain and loss cause a man to be sad. Want him to be sad I do not. When I am gone, please tell him all the time that he is special, he is. Always be my buir, he will.

---

‘Buir.’ Grogu sat on your stomach, watching with wide, curious eyes as he followed your finger to where Din moved back and forth getting ready to head out. It was just some low-level bounty, armature work really, but that didn’t stop the anxiety from budding in the pit of your stomach. Distractions curved the nausea, curled up with the pod door open, blanket tucked under your chin with the residual warmth of his body still hugging you, ‘He’s your buir.’

Din hadn’t put his helmet back on yet, the roll of his eyes contrasted with the small half-smile on his lips. In the light, it was easier to see the damage he had taken during his last fight. There was only so much an ex-bounty-turned-nursing droid and some bacta spray could do. The large gash across his forehead looked painful and you made a mental note to check it over when he returned.

‘Don’t teach him that.’

‘Why not?’

There was a pause. You caught the way the small smile faltered, wavering with doubt and uncertainty and maybe a hint of sadness although that last part was hard to tell. And while the wall Din had built around himself was thick, sadness was strong enough to creep through the cracks. Even Grogu noticed, large ears pricking, head tilting in ManDad’s direction with a small coo.

‘Aliit ori'shya tal'din.’

‘You’ve been practicing.’ The words were light, a brow quirked in your direction and you knew what it meant; you’re adorable. Thank you for trying. At least he was smiling, finishing up the last buckle on his holster ‘Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.’

Maybe you should have been more surprised by the slip of his tongue. The way he carried on getting dressed, not even pausing once at his mistake.

You had heard him say those words before a hundrad times or more. But you wondered how long he had meant those words. Months? Years? Was it a new development? Was it something he had always known?

But there was no surprise. Instead, a warmth planted itself in your chest, and it grew, branches stretching to fill every ounce of your being until it was all you could feel.

‘Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.’ His eyes widened at your mimicked words. The pronunciation was still a bit off and sometimes the emphasis was stressed on the wrong bits, but it was nice to know you were close enough that he understood you, ‘I know what it means now. You can’t trick me anymore.’

Din picked up the helmet and put it on before you had the chance to see the full smile that bloomed, but you heard it, the hints of pure happiness shining through the modulated, ‘I was never trying to trick you.’

You fought back your own smile. The heat spreading across your cheeks told a different story though, serving as a reminder of years old built-up emotions neither of you had time to unpack at that moment.

So, you did what you both did best. You quickly changed the topic, shifting your attention back to the Green Bean plopped on your stomach, happily teething on the small silver ball he sneakily snatched from the controls. A few seconds later and his attention found yours, giving you a gleeful smile as he held out the ball as a peace offering.

‘Ba'buir.’ You pointed back at Din and Grogu laughed, ‘He’s your Ba'buir.’

But Din was already out of sight, halfway to the door when he called back, ‘He’s older than me!’

Older, I surely am. And wiser. Yet know, you do not. Be careful ManDad For space can be dark and dangerous.

The lock hissed as it opened, seemingly louder in the suddenly quiet Razor Crest, ‘Be careful.’

‘Always.’

---

buir = parent

Aliit ori'shya tal'din = "Family is more than blood."

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum ="I love you."; literally: "I will know you forever."

Ba'buir = grandparent

#jessie writes #grogusmum #commission #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian soft angst #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst #din djarin fanfic #grogu #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fluff

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