#and i get so far and then stall and then grab the next shiny new thing

[ahungeringknife]

365: June 4

It was late. Shin was pretending to sleep so Wolf would sleep. It wasn't working. With a sigh he opened his eyes. "Can't sleep?"

"No," she said, curled up next to him.

Shin lit his hand up to bathe the room in warm Solar Light. "It's real late," he said.

"I know. Can't sleep," she apologized.

"Magpie, what time is it?" he called to his Ghost.

"Little after Hunter's Hour," he called back.

"So most everything is closed," Wolf said quietly with a frown. "It's daylight on the other side of the planet," she added helpfully.

"I know a place that's open," Shin said. "If you wanted to go out and do something?"

"Yes," she said. "It's... quiet in here. You know?"

"I get it," he assured her, turning his face to her. "It's why I prefer the night sounds of the wilderness." He lightly rubbed their noses together, making her smile. "Easier to shut your brain off with the sounds of night in it." She nodded in agreement.

"Can we go?"

"Yeah," and he sat up.

Ghost turned on the lights as they got out of bed and pulled on some clothes. No armor, no suites. He grabbed her hand as they left her apartment and headed out of the Wall. "Where are we going?" she asked him.

"A nice bar," he said. She made a face. "It's basically Hunters only and this late at night it's probably empty."

"If it's open."

He chuckled. "Joshua stays open until dawn so his clients have a place to come when it's late," he assured her.

They transmatted down from the Tower to the City and Shin led her through the empty streets of Wall Haven. All the buildings were dark and even the street lights were dim. The City really did sleep after hunter's hour except for the explicit night clubs and bars but they were few and far between. They walked past a single food vendor hidden under a golden light of his stall. There must have been a night club around that let out late.

"This better not be some seedy place, renegade," Wolf teased Shin as they walked down to the basement entrance of Light Bright.

"Please. I have some class," he scoffed.

"Debatable," both Wolf and Ghost said. Magpie made an amused noise. He shot Magpie an annoyed look but his Ghost ignored him.

The sign on the door said Light Bright in brass inlay and Shin pushed it open. Joshua had lowered the lights for the hour of night but it was as Shin always remembered. Three booth tables and a shiny bar top with a fully stocked shelf of alcohol behind. Pleasant music played softly over speakers. The bar itself was warm, welcoming. Shin had been coming here for, literally, centuries. He'd had his first drink he didn't hate here. There were two hoods at the bar. One looking into their glass, the other on their pockit. Neither of them bothered with the opening of the door.

"This is nice," Wolf said quietly as Shin pulled her over to one of the booths. The backs of the booths were high to give you privacy and the leather seats were comfortable. The tables had been replaced a few years ago because they were new. Usually they had to be replaced once a decade or so because Hunters couldn't help but test their knives on the wooden surfaces. Shin had too once, when he was young.

"I told you it was nice," Shin said. "The proprietor is Joshua-7, his face is... something. Just be aware," he advised.

"Like face mods? Savant has face mods I've seen them."

"Mmm, sort of?"

Joshua came over after a few minutes letting them get comfortable. Wolf did her best not to stare. Shin was used to Joshua's fucked up face. He was an EXO but had his face painted in a very good imitation of a human's face that was absolutely creepy in an uncanny valley way. Shin had heard some of the other patrons describe it like he'd stretched skin of a face across his own metal one. Shin thought those people were stupid. "Shin, what a pleasant surprise. At this rate you'll be a proper regular," Joshua said with a smile because he did also have facial mods to make his face more expressive. He set Shin's usual amber drink down on a coaster in front of him. "And who's your lovely friend?"

"My girlfriend, Kass," Shin said.

Joshua was good and heard all sorts of Hunter stories and tall tales but Shin was still smug when he looked absolutely shocked. "Oh my," he looked at Wolf in surprise. "Well welcome to Light Bright, Miss Kass. I am Joshua-7, what can I get for you?"

"Mmm, I don't really drink," she said. "So I don't know what's good. What did Shin get?" and she leaned over to him.

He pulled his glass away as he was about to take a sip. "You don't want this," he grunted.

"Is it bad?"

"It's real strong," he said and took a sip. It was warm and tasted like a shot to the back of the throat but the aftertaste in his mouth was all vanilla and cherry somehow. It burned all the way down as he swallowed it.

She pouted at him. "No worries," Joshua said. "I'll make you something."

"Hmmm-

"Trust me. It'll be good," Shin told her. "Joshua's a magician."

"Alright," she allowed.

"She's a light weight," he added to Joshua.

Joshua chuckled politely, "I figured. Just like that last one you brought, Shin," and he left them.

"Last one?" Wolf asked him.

"I brought Crow here when he was working too much," Shin said. "Kid drank himself stupid."

"Oh! Was that the night you were tipsy?"

"Mhm," he toyed with his glass.

Wolf leaned against him. "I didn't mind that. You're a cuddly drunk."

"Not hard when my girlfriend's so cute," he said, turning to her so their hoods cast them both in shadow. But he did feel Wolf's face heat up slightly.

"You come here often?"

"When I'm in the City yeah," and he pulled away so they were two people once more. He took another sip of his drink. He never asked Joshua what it actually was but he assumed it was some sort of whiskey. It was just what he always had. "It's quiet here and I can drink without someone asking for my autograph."

"Important," Wolf agreed and he moved his arm to be around her when she leaned against his side. "It's your vibe."

"Yeah."

"Now it is," Magpie said. "He had to grow into it."

"Ugh, so annoying," Shin batted at his Ghost in annoyance.

Wolf giggled. "Oh what? Were you a party animal back in the day?" she teased him.

He didn't answer as Joshua came back with a cocktail in a tall and elegant sling glass. "Here you are, Miss Kass," Joshua said setting the drink down on a coaster. The cocktail was almost the same blue color as her skin with several spherical ice cubes and Joshua had put some sort of edible glitter into it to make it shimmer.

"Oh wow," she leaned forward to take it. He waited politely while she took a sip and Shin smirked when she looked at the drink in surprise. "It's delicious," she said.

Joshua smiled. "Excellent. Please enjoy," and he left them to their drinks.

"What'd he give you?"

"Try it," she offered him the glass. He just let her hold it up to his lips. It tasted like... was that mango? It somehow tasted entirely like mango with a dark sugar bite of some dark rum and yet it was blue.

"That's pretty good," he said.

"It tastes like one of the first drinks I ever had with Cat years ago," she said, taking another sip. "I was just a few days old and they had me try a bunch of nectar juices."

"Joshua just knows this kinda stuff. He's never made someone a bad first drink," Shin said. "But it's got some heavy rum in it, don't drink it too fast," he advised when he saw her take a big gulp.

"Oh- right," she set the drink down. Shin took another sip of his own drink.

They didn't talk but it was fine. Comfortable. One of the Hunters at the bar left after an hour or so. By then Wolf was almost sitting in his lap, legs over his thighs, pressed against his side, with her pockit out watching Crucible highlights. Shin was watching what she was watching. It was some lower bracket stuff. Always funny to watch Guardians who weren't the best players since they always did insane and sub optimal plays. He had his arm around her waist and was comfortable with her like that.

Wolf finished her drink and a few minutes later Joshua appeared with another. It was different though. This one was orange and magenta at the bottom with some sort of muddled herbs or fruit on the bottom in a highball glass. He also had a new drink for Shin. More of his usual. He took the two empty glasses away just bidding them to enjoy their drinks.

"He's nice. Freaky. But nice," Wolf said.

"Mhm," Shin said, hand curled lightly around the old fashioned glass. Less to drink out of it and more to play with it. He was starting to get tired. "After we finish these lets go back home hmm?" His finger trailed around the rim of the glass.

"Getting tired?"

"Lil bit. How about you?"

"No," she frowned and he frowned back.

"Well I do know what would tire you out," he said, hand around her waist sliding down to her butt briefly. She just flushed and pushed him away. They still weren't having sex. Which was fine. It only worried Shin in the back of his mind when he had nothing to think about because before he'd left Wolf had been all over him. If not every day it had been a near thing. He let her take a drink of her cocktail before pulling her back against him. "Okay," was all he said quietly. "How's this one?" he asked after her drink.

"It's good. It..." she closed her eyes and took another sip, "tastes like how it sometimes feels to use Solar. Here," she let him try it. The drink was cinnamon and berries with some sort of flavorless alcohol. But she was right. In a strange way it did almost taste like Solar. Warm and bitter, the type of drink you'd want on a cool day. Or maybe one at the end of a hot summer day to have the heat of the cinnamon let the heat linger in your mouth.

He glanced over at Joshua at the bar where he was making a drink for the Hunter still on their stool. "Didn't realize Joshua was a romantic," he said looking back at Wolf and her pockit.

"Hmm?" she asked, purple eyes curious.

"Well I'm the most famous Solar Hunter in the City. And you're my girlfriend," he said as the only explanation he needed. He grinned when she blushed. When she looked away shyly he just reached over and touched her jaw making her turn back to him. "I wonder what he'd make me if he knew you were the Young Wolf, hmm?" he asked her and that made her blush even deeper. He kissed her lightly.

"You did it again," Ghost sighed at him.

Shin chuckled. "Yeah, I know," he said because Wolf was too flustered to keep talking and just bowed her head, holding her face in both hands.

"You're terrible," Ghost huffed.

"Yeap," Shin said easily and took a sip of his drink and leaned back in the booth. Wolf got herself in order after a minute and she took a big sip of her drink before leaning against his chest. "Magpie, what time is it now?"

"Almost five in the morning," he said quietly from somewhere above them.

"Okay," he gently ran his finger against Wolf's arm as he sat there. "Once we finish you want to get breakfast? That waffle place you like in the Tower?" she nodded against his light jacket.

"Should we tell Joshua?" Ghost asked.

"Nah. He doesn't make a drink until you finish the first."

Shin pulled out his own pockit to keep himself awake and Wolf slowly finished her drink. Eventually hers was empty. The other Hunter had left. The bar was finally going to close as dawn was quickly approaching. Shin knocked back the rest of his drink and started to get up. Magpie left enough purple glimmer on the table to be an ammo charge. Way overpaying but you did at a place like this. "Lets go get breakfast," he said as he helped Wolf out of the booth.

"Okay. I'm hungry."

"Wow, for once? Amazing," he teased her. She gave him a look and he just kissed her on the cheek.

"Have a nice rest of your day Shin, Miss Kass," Joshua called after them like he had the other two Hunters. Shin just raised a hand slightly to indicate they'd heard before they left the little bar.

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 13: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should just start crying whilst being robbed in the abandoned barn ...

~

(----- tw for mild violence (he gets into sort of a fight) until after the next orange text section in parentheses -----)

Not sure what else to even do, The Adventurer simply collapses into a ball on the floor and starts sobbing, screaming, and rolling about. The hooded figure pauses in confusion at first, but.. apparently is not very sympathetic to his plight.

They rush over, grappling with him as he cries, fighting to pry the backpack out of his hands. The Adventurer continues screeching frantically, and during some of his flailing accidentally swings his arm up, elbowing the hooded figure in the face. They let out an exasperated sigh, knocking him against the wall then firmly yanking him up by the hair, securing their arm around his throat to restrain him as they grab for the backpack. He kicks a few times, struggling, clawing at the hooded figure's arms, but just isn't strong enough to free himself.. There's a thwack and a sudden sharpness in the side of his head, the backpack pulling away from his shoulders, cold ground, and then… nothing at all..…

(------------------- mild violence tw over -----------------) ...............

The Adventurer slowly opens his eyes to a quiet foggy morning.. Tiny particles in the dusty barn air gently flutter to and fro, dancing around in the streams of early sunlight trickling through the slight crack of the front doors. With a groan, he rolls over, suddenly feeling every ache in his body. His head, his wrist, his leg injury from crashing the raft.. He spends a while just laying on his back, watching the dust and gazing hopelessly at the moldy boards of the roof, mustering the strength to sit upright… What can he even do next? He's failed.. His first EVER actual quest of his adventuring career, and he can't even keep a stupid egg safe for more than a few days! What type of adventurer is that?? Maybe he should just give up.. Go back home and do nothing with his life, just as he was meant to... He sighs, turning back onto his side and curling into a ball to sulk even more dramatically. The cat trots over to him to interrupt his swirling thoughts, pawing at his face, then directing him towards a small stack of hay in the corner where... there it is! His backpack!! He scrambles over, immediately digging through to check for his belongings.. To his surprise, everything it still in it's place. His food, his money, all of the cool shiny rocks he's collected so far.. And tucked away in the very bottom, the Mysterious Egg box remains, completely undamaged.. somehow with the egg still inside! And... a note? He shakily unfolds a crisp sheet of pale yellow paper dotted with a few scribbly letters: "I took care of her for you. Be more careful next time. Just get where you have to go."

Well...... He supposes that if there's apparently going to be weirdos following him around anyway, maybe he's lucky at least one of them seems nice. Better than trying to ROB him, at least.. Even if it is a bit creepy. He realizes now that his injuries have been bandaged as well, and that when he woke up, he was wrapped in a blanket, and.. where is the hooded figure? What does the stranger mean that they "took care" of her?? He turns to the cat for answers, as if they'd be able to clear up his confusions, but they simply make a "mrrp!" noise and stare blankly in response. Figuring that it's all far too much to think about first thing in the morning (especially with the headache that he has), he just decides to be thankful he at least still has the egg, and thus can continue on his grand adventure!! He will NOT let himself fail again! Sore and limping but full of renewed motivation, he leaps up (at least as best he can) and continues back onto the road. After walking only a few hours, he comes to a clearing at the top of a large hill, overlooking the next stop on his journey (then double checks the map just to make sure it actually IS the next stop). This is a much bigger area than the previous villages he's been to, possibly large enough to even count as a small city. With a wider variation of shops and attractions available to him than usual, he wonders if he should just take a break and relax the rest of the day.

He's too tired to walk much today anyway, soo.. maybe it'd be good for him to spend some time in a safe public space, doing something to help take his mind off of this morning's drama… But, what should he do?

-

-

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[coldflasher]

going from being excited by all my wips to having an existential crisis about how much i love all of them and how i’ll never have the time or motivation to do them all and spiralling and i have to WORK all the time when all i wanna do is write and then when it’s time to write i can’t write anyway and everything i write is bad and i don’t write as much as i want to and editing takes me 48 years and liwhfk;ehfe;fe;wk

in the words of mr barry allen i am NOT FAST ENOUGH

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

A Lesson In Traditions [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Traditions Summary: After the brief spark, you felt between you and Din, you are longing for it to be recreated. And, maybe a shiny trinket from Mandalorian tradition can help you with that. Warnings: None I don't think ? Request: N/A

A/N: Some of you wanted a part two to A Lesson In Mando'a so here's the follow up! I might make this a series if anyone is interested

A/N 2: I made up the idea of betrothal necklaces. I don't think these exist in Mandalorian culture, but I took inspiration from water benders in Avatar the Last Airbender, because I thought the idea was cute! So credit to that series!

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Traditions PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Traditions

It had been a while since Din had told you what cyar'ika had meant, and ever since then the two of you had been dancing around each other. Surely, he knew you liked him by now- you had tried to hint at him several times: lingering touches, longer conversations, closeness to him. And, yet the Mandalorian remained oblivious. You supposed that no matter the species or creed, men were all as dense as each other.

        You huffed as you held the child on your lap.

        "I don't know what I'm going to do, little one," you murmured, "I think I'm having more luck communicating with you, than I am with your dad. ...Maybe I should just give up. He has his creed to follow anyway..."

        The child looked at you, his head slightly tilted. His big eyes stared up at you. Despite not saying anything at all, you knew he was understanding you. He was a pretty great listener, even if he was only a youngling.

        "You know, you're right. Maybe I- maybe we just need a day out. Some fresh air. What do you think? Do you want to take a little trip? We need some more supplies anyway, I'm getting sick of rations, and I'd like some fresh food. What about you?"

        The child perked up at the mention of food, and you smiled.

        "I'll take that as a yes," you giggled, "Let me go speak to your daddy."

        You placed the child gently down in his bed, and made your way up to the cockpit, where Din was flying the ship. Your head peeked up from the ladder, and you clambered up and stood awkwardly for a second at the back of the room. Din heard you enter, and waited for you to speak. He turned his head ever so slightly, his beskar glinting from the faint light the stars around the ship were producing.

        "Hi," you murmured, wandering over to where Din was sitting, "How far away are we from the next stop?"

        "About an hour," Din replied, "Why do you ask?"

        You fold your hands neatly in front of you, you shift your weight slightly forward, and almost rock on the balls of your feet.

        "Well, I was thinking that I- well, us... You, me and the kid could take a trip to the local market on our next stop. It's just we need more food anyways, and I'm going a bit stir crazy. It'll do us some good to get some fresh air, especially the kid. He can't spend his whole life in this ship."

        Din contemplates for a second.

        "I know what you're going to say- It's dangerous, we're being hunted but-"

        "-I was actually going to say okay."

        "Really? I mean, great. Thank you!"

        Din smiles under his helmet, not that you can tell, and continues, "As you said, we need food anyway, and the next planet we're going to land on is remote enough. It's definitely not Imp friendly either."

        You nod, and flash Din a smile. The tension slowly builds in the room; you can feel his eyes on you. Despite not being able to see his eyes (hell, you didn't even know what colour they were), you could sense them: trained on you. You coughed awkwardly.

        "I'm going to go check on the kid. Uh- Give me a shout when we're about to land."

        "I will, cyar'ika."

        Your heart jumps at the nickname.

~~~

As soon as you landed, you grabbed your bag, your gun and a set of knives. Despite not technically being employed by any bounty hunting guilds right now, it never hurt to be prepared: especially when the small green creature you were travelling with had such a high price on his head. And, then you turned to Din. He was also carrying his fair share of weapons, and of course the child. He was situated in Din's bag, his cute little face peaking out over the top. You smiled at him, before beginning to walk down the ramp.

        The Mandalorian made his way into the town, with you by his side, and his small son literally at his side. He didn't feel uneasy about this place- it looked relatively safe, but he was still on high alert. And, he wanted you to be as well.

        Despite having only known you a couple of months, he didn't dare think about the possibility of something happening to you. He knew he had to protect the child, that was a given, but the growing affection he had for you was uncharted. As a boy, he had learned about Mandalorians caring for foundlings (just as they had done with him as a boy), but romantic relationships were something out of his reach. He knew they occurred; they had to. The Mandalorians, while being a creed of highly trained soldiers, still held family at their core. After all, how were they to make more warriors without romantic relationships. But, truthfully, they were something unfamiliar to him. It had never been possible in his life, not with the creed. With you, his thoughts had begun to wander more and more lately. About you being next to him, being his family. He knew Mandalorians were allowed to take their helmets off for family, for those in their Clan. The more time you spent with him, the more he considered you to be apart of his Clan... He shook himself slightly. 'Stop,' he thought, 'You shouldn't have this on your mind. Y/N doesn't think of you that way. They're here for the child. That's it.'

        If only Din knew how far from the truth that was.

        "I need you to take him," Din says to you, carefully taking the child from his bag and handing him to you, "I'm going to go into the cantina, and see if I can find me- us some work. I trust you can manage to get us some supplies?"

        "You insult me, my love," you laugh, holding the child in your arms, "I am more than capable. I hope you save me at least one good bounty. I can't let you have all the fun."

        "I'll keep an eye out. Meet me here in half an hour."

        "Will do, my love," you smile and walk away from him.

        Din was glad for the distance being put between the two of you, because he was sure if you were any closer to him, you would be able to hear his heart racing behind his beskar. 'My love,' he pondered. He quite liked the way that sounded rolling off your tongue, perhaps even more than he liked hearing you say his own name. He gave one last look over his shoulder, just to make sure you were okay, before heading into the cantina.

~~~

You'd successfully made it to the market, and had made your way around over half of the stalls, and you had basically bought all the food for you and your Mandalorian. As you continued walking through the market, most of the stalls you passed by were food, but some were trinkets, toys, and even weapons. You'd hesitated by one particular booth. They were selling crystals, luxury cloth, and jewellery. Usually, you weren't one for such fine things (in your life style, things like that would end up ruined, stolen or pawned), but you'd been drawn in by one particular necklace. The chain was made up of two types of metal from what you could tell: a shinning silver, and a deep, darker grey. Attached to the chain was an unfamiliar symbol. It curved into a symmetrical shape, one that looked like two halves of a whole.

        "That's real beskar, you know," the seller assured, "It would look beautiful sitting around your neck."

        The seller was an older woman. She wore blue and purple robes, dirtied only a little by the sand- no doubt from the extensive sand desert that lay just outside the town. She had a kind face, her eyes smiling up at you. You'd almost forgotten to reply.

        "What do you say? Can I interest you in such a fine, unique piece?"

        "Oh, I'm not sure-"

        "-I'm sure your husband would like it: it would match his own armour after all," the lady added, taking the necklace off of its stand and presenting it to you.

        "Oh, he's not- He's not my husband. We're just travel companions, that's all."

        "Someone should tell him that. The way he looks at you... Only few people are so lucky. Looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky."

        "How do you know that? His helmet-"

        "-There's some things you just know with age, dearie. Love is one of them."

        You were rendered speechless. Did he really look at you like that? Was is that obvious? Did his heart beat for yours the way yours beats for his? You hardly had time to process the thought of you and Din together that close, as spouses, before the seller spoke again.

        "So what do you say? Can I tempt you with this necklace? I can even throw in a free toy for the little one," she smiled, cooing to the child from across the table.

        You looked at the seller, and then down to him.

        "What do you say, little guy? Do you want a new toy?" you murmured to him; when you saw his eyes gleam with excitement, you knew it was all over.

        "I think he said yes," the merchant laughs.

        "I think you're right," you reply, reaching into your bag for your purse, "I usually wouldn't spend credits on a thing like this... But, it is quite beautiful. And, you do deserve a new toy."

        You handed the lady her credits, and took the necklace from her. She'd placed it into a small, black, velvet box. The box had small silver hinges and a clasp at the front. You felt a little giddy. It had been a while since you'd made such an unessential purchase, and there was a small part of you that hoped if you wore this you might get the attention of a certain masked warrior. You shook your head, granted it was a little desperate, but you figured worth a shot.

        The child also received his gift too. It was a small figurine of an animal. You weren't quite sure which one, but he seemed to like it, and that was good enough for you.

        You slipped the velvet box into your bag, and caught a glimpse of your watch. Fuck, you were late. You jostled the child closer to your chest and began to almost sprint back to the cantina: you did not want to have to deal with a grumpy Mandalorian, least of all if you were the cause of his grumpiness. The closer you got, the easier it was to make out his figure.

        "Look, before you say anything, I'm sorry I'm late. Time must have slipped my mind, and I ran into a strange lady at one of the stalls, and she sold me this- You know what, you probably don't need to know all that. Just know we've got enough food to last us at least a month, and the child had fun."

        "He has a new toy."

        "I- Yeah," you replied, "Not exactly an essential, I know, but don't worry I used my credits. Besides, it'll hopefully stop him wrecking your cockpit for a toy."

        Din nodded. You don't know why you expected him to say more. He wasn't a man of many words, and you were apparently no exception. You made your way back to the ship with the Mandalorian in silence. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, but also it felt like you both had lots to say: you just didn't know how to say it.

        "Did you buy anything for yourself?" Din asked, looking over to you as you reached the ship.

        How did he know?

        Din obviously sensed your confusion.

        "I- You said that a lady sold you something, that's all," Din clarified.

        "Oooh, oh that," you said, looking down at your bag, "Yeah, I did. A bit of an impulse buy if I'm honest, but the lady was too nice to deny. She sold me a necklace. Maybe you can help me put it on."

        Din nodded; that should be easy. It was just a necklace after all. He'd fought off enemies twice his size, survived when the odds were against him, and was one of the best bounty hunters there was... It should be easy. So why was his heart racing?

        You placed the child down on the floor of the Razor Crest, and reached inside your bag for the box. Your hands traced the inside of your bag blindly, before feelings the soft touch of velvet. Carefully, you took it out of the bag, and revealed the box. Din's eyes watched with intrigue. You unfastened the clasp and opened the box. It snapped back on its hinges, and revealed the chain.

        Din's eyes registered the metal before his brain could even process it: a betrothal necklace.

        "The lady said it was genuine beskar, but I'm not so sure. I think it's just silver, probably some iron too- but it's pretty either way. Do you mind helping me put it on still?"

        Din's mind was still racing. He'd heard about the tradition of giving a betrothal necklace from urban tales and word of mouth from other Mandalorians, but he'd never actually seen one this close. The tradition stated that the Mandalorian proposing would take part of their beskar and part of their riduur-to-be's beskar and melt them into a necklace, with the two swirling around each other before eventually combining into a symbol at the bottom. Usually it was a good luck symbol, or for fertility. Something along those lines. It felt almost surreal seeing one close up.

        "Are you alright, Din?" you ask, "Is something up?"

       He wasn't sure if he should mention the tradition, what the necklace meant to the Mandalorians... It was basically a dead tradition now, anyway. There was no harm in not telling you, right? After all, there were very few Mandalorians left, and even fewer that managed to have the privilege of finding a riduur: you didn't need to know..

        "No, no... I'm fine," he reassures, "I- Hand me the necklace."

        Din took the necklace from you and instructed you to hold your hair out of the way. You obliged, and felt him lace the necklace around your neck before fastening it in the back. There was a small pause, where the two of you just stayed there: in the moment. It took everything in you not to shiver as you felt a rush down your spine. The sensation of Din's hands on you, even just for a moment, was almost too much. You turned around to face him.

        "Do you like it?" you ask, holding the pendant of your new necklace between your thumb and your index finger.

        "It suits you," he affirmed, "Mesh'la."

       "Thank you," you blushed, making a mental note to ask what 'Mesh'la' meant at a later date, "I- I'm going to go put the food supplies away."

       Din decided against telling you about the origin of your neckalce; you looked far too radiant wearing it for him to say anything that may shift the tone. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just let you walk past him. Part of him felt guilty for not saying anything, but another part of him selfishly thought it looked beautiful sat around your neck. For a moment he could almost imagine that he had given you that..

       ...That you were his riduur.

[realcube]

class 1-A’s love languages headcanons 💕

tw// swearing, crying, she/her reader

Yuuga Aoyama

his love language is words of affirmation

like tell him that he looks fabulous but he is also a talented hero 

and. he. will. die. 

of happiness ofc 🥰

and whenever you are feelin’ insecure he’ll do a pretend fashion show with you to boost you spirits (o゜▽゜)o☆

Mina Ashido

her love language is physical touch

but not in a *holds your hand 🥺* *kithes🥰* sorta way

but rather in a

“YOU’RE SO FKN CUTE, (Y/N)!!!” *aggressively pinches your cheeks*

and whenever she kisses/hugs you, it’s always a surprise attack form behind

she is also 159cm in height (almost 5″3)

so if you are shorter than her, she’ll sprint up to you and before you have time to react, she’ll engulf you in her arms

if you are around the same height as her, she’ll sneak up to you and try to jump onto your back, peppering you in neck kisses

and if you are taller than her, she’ll grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it 

Tsuyu Asui

i think her love language is gift giving 

but not typically gifts from the store

it’s usually cute flowers or any sort of pretty flora that she finds on her walks 

and she’ll sometimes come to your room just before lights-out and hand you a shiny rock or a colourful flower like “hi, (y/n). i found this flower in the park a nd it reminded me of you. so here, i hope you like it.”

then you cry (❤´艸｀❤) it’s too precious

also when she visits your dorm, she notices that you have a jar filled with all the flowers she’s every gave you and shE BRAIDS THEM INTO YOUR HAIR

and if you don’t have hair, she makes you a flower crown out of them

Tenya Iida

the king of gifts periodt ✋

to him, gift giving is kinda like a sport and if it was, he’d definitely be winning

he’ll be out getting groceries or sumn then he’ll pass the candy aisle and just *flashback to 3 months ago when y’all were studying together and you randomly said you were craving sour patch kids*

then he buys two packs of sour patch kids (❤ ω ❤)

so obviously excels during holidays like christmas, valentines day or your birthday 

and if you make it explicitly clear that you need something (ex. water, medication, cutlery, soap etc.) and you will go get it in x amount of day(s)

expect it to be in your hands within 1-9 hours 

“Iida, you didn’t have to rush out to get me Ibuprofen - I was going to go get some in a few days anyway.”

“Yes, but as a hero in training, you must agree that seeing your partner potentially suffer to due a preventable cause would be inhumane.”

“I-..”

Ochaco Uraraka

her love language is probably quality time

OR words of affirmation BUT ONLY ONLINE

like irl she loves going on lil’ picnic dates with you or dates to go watch the sunset or star-gazing..or literally anything where she gets to spend as much time in your presence as possible

you could literally take her on a date inside the sewers and she’d be like 🥰

in the moment (during the date) she just looks at you and wants to tell you how beautiful you are but she is way too nervous

but as soon you leave she texts you sumn like ‘OMG >< YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS 😍 AND I WANTED TO TELL YOU SO BAD BUT I COULDN’T 😩’ 

also, hypothetically, if she had a phone which supported social media platforms like Instagram and Snapchat 

she would definitely be the sort of girl to post cute candid pics of you on any special occasion and i mean ANY

like she doesn’t want to just random post pics of you bc she thinks that’d be weird so she looks for any excuse she can

deadass she’d post a beach pic of you and her on her insta with a caption like, ‘happy pancake day to @y/n.l/n 🥰💖 on our first date we shared a stack of pancakes so this is a really special day for us 💓 i’m so blessed to have a stunning, smart, amazing gal like her by my side always 💕’

Mashirao Ojiro 

he’s a physical touch kinda guy

sometimes he’ll randomly drape his tail over your shoulder to pull you close

or he’ll pat your head with either his hand or tail when ever you do anything remotely impressive

“ooh, i’ve apparently taken 17k steps so far today, ojiro.” 

then he’d be like “that’s good” *pat pat* 

he also gets butterflies whenever you hug his arm or tail while he is talking to someone

AND HE WILL KISS YOUR WOUND BETTER IF YOU GET A PAPER CUT OR SUMN

Denki Kaminari 

bb is blushing profusely when you hand him a pikachu plushie , saying it reminded you of him

before that, he was probably a physical touch sorta guy but once he realised how awesome and special that simple action made him feel, he became a gift-giver 

however, 99.9% the gift is a plushie and the other 0.1% it’s a doll

(he literally bought a whole fkn barbie bc you owned a dress similar to the one the doll was wearing)

“it looks exactly like you!” 

“i don’t think so..” “it literally does!”

anyway, whether he is at the mall, in the town, in a gift shop or at the carnival, if he sees something that he knows you’d like or that reminds him of you, he’ll stop at nothing to get his hands on it

flashback to that one time at the carnival, there was a stall that had a huge fkn Kuromi plushie up for grabs 

so he asked the lady running the stall if he could have it and she said it was all his, if he could get a ball into the basket 3 times in a row

-- my man was sTANDING THERE DESPERATELY TRYING FOR 30 MINUTES STRAIGHT 😭

and once he figured he couldn’t do it on his own, he got the bakusquad to help him out 

(bakugo was all like ‘i’m not helping you, dumbass’ but kirishima convinces him to give it a shot and as soon as he misses on the third shot, he is livid.)

(”YOUR STUPID PARTY GAME MUST BE BROKEN, LADY!”)

anyway, after an hour of holding up the line, the lady just gave the plush to kaminari for ¥1000 

but it was all worth it after he saw how thrilled you were 🥺

he came round to your dorm one day and noticed every plushie he had ever given you, sitting on your bed 

you told him that they help you sleep and he just..died..

IT MADE HIM SO FKN HAPPY TO THINK THAT YOU TREASURE HIS GIFTS SO MUCH (≧▽≦*)

Eijirou Kirishima

his love language is words of affirmation imo but with a sprinkle of physical touch 

like whenever he sees you looking nice or sumn..he’ll just tell you

he has no shame and why should he? he’s just telling the truth

if you walk into the room looking ✨immaculate✨ he will tell you 

he’s just like ‘if nobody else is going to say it then I will.’

when your face lights up after he has just told you that you’re beautiful or that you’re one of the most likeable people he’s ever met; it makes his day every. single. time.

the sprinkle of physical touch is because he tells  you what he is thinking all the time

and he thinks you’re stunning even when you are lounging around the dorm complex in casual wear and no makeup

so he’s aware that he might’ve watered down his compliments a bit by saying them too often 

(even though he’s telling the truth every time)

so he likes to give you hugs and kisses to express his affection without  seeming like he’s buttering you up

Kouji Kouda

honestly, idek which category he falls under bc he does so many different things to show his love

like, he’ll use his quirk to get a butterfly to land on your head so you can take the perfect photo for instagram

he always holds your hand in crowded areas so y’all don’t lose each other

(he would end up crying in the corner of a Hot Topic or sumn if he couldn’t find you tbh)

he writes mini-love notes v. late at night and uses his quirk to get an insect or bird to carry it up to your room

religiously takes you out on dates to the park

or library/study dates (p≧w≦q)

Rikidou Satou

acts of service but mostly to do with baking

if his s/o doesn’t like sweet treats then..it just..can’t work

he’s very good at noticing when you are down and what he bakes depends on the severity of the situation

like, if you’re just a bit bummed because you got a bad mark on a test, he’ll bake cupcakes and leave a few outside your dorm

obvs accompanied by a cute lil note abt how proud you make him and how you’re the most diligent person he’s met so he knows that you’ll succeed if you just persevere

and as soon as you come to him with your improved mark, he’ll bake you a cake with ‘congratulations, (Y/N).’ written on it

Mezou Shouji

acts of service. but like..service service

he treats you like royalty-

he is the kind of bf to give you his jacket if you’re cold

he can and will use his quirk to form more arms just so he can hold your bags along with his own

if you enter is dorm and he doesn’t offer to take your jacket immediately then i’m sorry to inform you but that is not shouji..that is toga in disguise 

you’ll never have to open a door if you are walking next to him and don’t you dare even try to 

just an overall gentleman tbh 

sometimes you try to get him to stop being so kind bc you’re afraid ppl will think you treat him like a butler 

so he’ll be like “sure ..

i’ll hold just your gym bag rather than your gym bag and school bag.”

“don’t hold any bags, shouji..”

Kyouka Jirou

her love language is definitely quality time

there is nothing she loves more than vibing with you in her room - whether y’all are studying, cuddling, playing videos games or something else - while chill music plays in the background, either from a playlist or from her playing it herself on one of her instruments 

and sometimes when she’s feeling especially comfortable, she might hum a tune or sing some lyrics to match the mood

she asks you for suggestions for music to put on bc she loves introducing herself to new music

but when you’re concentrated,  she doesn’t want to disturb you so she just puts on a playlist she made prior 

she doesn’t create a new playlist each time you hang out but there is at least 10 new songs added to it every day 

the playlist is called ‘lazy days w/ (y/n) 💕’

anyway, she just loves hanging out with you bc you’re one of the very few people who don’t annoy tf out of her 

also - she’d never say it aloud but - she thinks you’ve got a very comforting presence and you make her feel so exhilarated whenever you laugh (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Hanta Sero

Sero loves spending as much time with you as possible - hence, he’s a quality time sorta person

but i also think he’s barely a quality time guy bc he expresses his affection in so many different ways

he’s like a mix of 4

( not gift-giving, whenever it comes time to get you gift for whatever occasion, he’s always stumped and ends up asking someone for help)

he preforms acts of service in a sense that if you are both cuddling on the couch and you are cold - even if he seriously can’t be assed to move - he’ll force himself to get up and bring you a blanket

he is really good at compliments bc he barely has a filter so if he sees you looking good, he’ll straight up tell you

plus, he loves seeing your reaction - especially when you get all flustered

and physical touch bc..cuddles :)

to him, there is just something reassuring about having you in his arms

Fumikage Tokoyami 

a quality time man mwah

he doesn’t play music on speakers when y’all hang out though, he just likes to sit with you and either mindlessly chatter or chill in comfortable silence 

he also doesn’t put in earbuds bc he thinks it’s rude 

(you assure him that you don’t mind if he puts his earbuds in but he is always like..no..)

he just loves your company bc he seriously can’t think of somebody he’d rather spend his time with 

also he is convinced that he does things 10 times better with you around

when he’s not with you though, he misses you- like- seriously

sometimes he’s just out with his friends or watching a movie with his family and he is just like ‘this’d be more fun if (Y/N) was here-’

and you said that you missed him too when y’all weren’t together 

so he did the reasonable thing and made you a playlist for you to listen to whenever you missed him ( •̀ ω •́ )

he sent you the link and your heart stopped bc it was literally called ‘i love you 🖤’ AND THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME HE’S EVER TOLD YOU THAT AAAAA

‘you’re so sweet, tokoyami 🥺 i love you tooooo’

and good thing that was over text bc otherwise you would’ve seen him blushing profusely (= ╯▽╰ = )

as for the contents of the playlist; it’s probably quite diverse

some alt pop, some indie, a bit of R&B, pop rock and a lot of Metal/Rock 

Shouto Todoroki

his love language is acts of service

most of them are school related though

he can easily tell if you’re struggling with the coursework and asks you if you want go on a lil study date at the library or in his dorm 

he also helps you with homework or explains the material to you if you don’t understand it

and he’s the best teacher since he’s extremely patient and well-spoken

if you’re feeling under the weather, he’ll head to your dorm to fetch your notebook so he can write the class notes for you 

and he’ll put in the effort to make them as similar to your other notes as he can

so he flicks through the pages and (for example) if you have a highlighting code, he’ll look for the legend and highlight the notes he took accordingly 

once school is over for the day, he goes to your dorm to drop off the notebook, putting it back in the respective part of your bag

and the next day when you open your notebook to check the notes, you notice that he wrote a little note for you;

‘get well soon 💛’ 

it was a simple, kind gesture but the small details like how he coloured in the heart with a glittery yellow highlighter he must’ve took from your bag had you blushing (^///^)

also, whenever you’ve scheduled a study date at his dorm, there is no way in hell you’ll walk into his room and there isn’t 2 bowls of fresh soba sitting on the desk

no way. impossible.

(or if you don’t like noodles, then two bowls of rice.) 

Tooru Hagakure

physical touch bb

she just likes you to know that she is there 

also she loves how soft your skin is ^^

she really likes surprise hugging you from behind and you’d think that she’d be very good at that considering that she is.. invisible.. but she’s really not

she has very unique and recognisable voice 

and whenever she creeps up behind you, she’s always snickering quite loudly 

but you like seeing her happy when she thinks she surprised you so you just think to yourself ‘get ready to pretend to be shocked’ 

so as soon as she wraps her arms around you and goes ‘boo!’, you jump and always say the same stupid line you wish you would   stop using but it just comes out naturally

“ope, didn’t see you there, tooru.”

but it makes her laugh every time so maybe it’s not such a bad habit

Katsuki Bakugo

he’s definitely a physical touch kinda guy but tries to be an acts of service man..y’know?

he doesn’t want you thinking that he likes hugging, cuddling, kisses or any of that none-sense bc..he is a big macho king explosion murder 

and he knows that if he gets to comfortable with showing affection through physical touch, it’d become a habit then he might do it in public and the last thing he wanted was a rumour coming out that ‘king explosion murder is actually a huge cuddle-bug dork!’

so he hides it the best he can and expresses his love by like letting you wear his hoodie and not cussing you out when you do something stupid

but the fact is, nothing makes him feel better than holding you in his arms - under a blanket or not -  with your face buried into his chest and your arm lazing draped over his shoulder

he usually does a good job at resisting his urge to randomly kiss you or take your hand in public

but there was that one time

luckily, it was on a date rather than on a school outing so it was only you who knows about it 

it was probably around 6 months after y’all first started dating and he took you on a date to the carnival

there was a gang of boys who looked around a few years older than y’all and they were chatting amongst themselves until they approached the line you and Bakugo were waiting in (to get onto a ride at the carnival) and the group of boys stood behind you in line

at first everything was alright; they were just chatting while you were raving on about the ride to bakugo but he kinda tuned you out after he heard one of the guys say something along the lines of

“she’s kinda hot- a bit young but so fit. i think she’s from the UA too.”

that comment was enough to make his blood boil but a separate comment from one of the other guys tipped him over the edge,

“yeah and look at the guy she’s with. he’s the feral guy that needed to be put in chains at the sports festival - how embarassing.” he snickered, which was genuinely one of the most annoying noises bakugo has ever heard

his voice was low, in a whisper so they probably didn’t expect bakugo to hear it over the background noise of the carnival along with the girl yapping in his ear

but he did

and when i tell you this man was livid 

in that moment he seriously considered just turning around and burning each and every one of those guys into a crisp

but the law-abiding citizen and hero inside him said no 

instead, he fiercely snaked his arms around your hips to pull you into his chest and looked over his shoulders to shoot literal daggers at the guys

he led you out of the line for the ride in silence and you followed him without question - having heard the things those guys said but choosing to pretend as if you didn’t 

“What was that about?” You finally asked as he brought you over to a bench, pulling you onto his lap

“Nothing.” He said, oddly calm as he stared into the void

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes, deciding not to pry as you obviously already knew what provoked him to do that. “I’m gonna go get some cotton candy then. Do you want some?”

“No.” He replied monotonously, allowing you to hop off his knee but immediately grabbing your hand, preventing you from going any farther than arms length from him.

“you needy cow.” you giggled, playfully kicking his shin, “I’m so hungry - let me go!” 

“No.” He replied in the same monotone voice. “I can’t be assed to move.”

You leaned back, pulling your whole weight backwards to try get Bakugo to release his grip on your hand and eventually he gave in and got up, sluggishly following you to go get cotton candy 

you gleefully popped some of the delectable fluff into your mouth before sneaking some into bakugo’s mouth too.

 “are you gonna let go of my hand any time soon?” you asked, wanting to hold the bag of cotton candy for yourself but instead having one hand interlocked with his and the other being used to rip small pieces off as Bakugo held the bag in his spare hand 

“No.”

[(a/n): not the over-used jealousy trope 🙊]

Izuku Midoriya 

definitely a words of affirmation kinda guy

bc he knows what it’s like to have to go through life with barely anyone besides your mother telling you that your great and that you’re worthy. it’s depressing and traumatic and he wouldn’t wish that misery on his worst enemy 

so he’s like your personal hypeman :)

making sure that you always feel appreciated, confident and loved 

during the sports festival or anything similar, he’s always louder than the cheerleaders when it comes to your turn to shine

“GO, (Y/N)! YOU’RE SO POWERFUL, YOU CAN DO THIS! I BELIEVE IN YOU! REMEMBER TO BREATHE!”

slightly embarrassing for him but when he sees you smile confidently back at him, every ounce of embarrassment melts away and he is just filled with joy

he gets really emotional sometimes as well 

but not like ‘you just faced an opponent and won bc one all your hard work and training - i am so proud of you’ sorta emotional

but like ‘omg you walked into his dorm wearing a new dress and you look really beautiful and you smiled at him so emotions wash over him and he just cries bc he realises how lucky he is to have you.’

he loves to receive words of admiration from you too though

one time you wrote him a birthday card and signed it off as ‘the future wife of the #1 pro-hero’

and as badly as you wanted to just sign it as ‘from the future pro-hero 😘’

you didn’t bc you knew how happy the other option would make him

Minoru Mineta

idk perversion ig?

wait no his love language is titties and/or ass

Momo Yaoyorozu

gift. giving. 

like you have no idea how much serotonin she gets when she sees you overjoyed at gift she gives you

bc in her mind she knows that it was her that made you that happy and no amount of trophies will ever compare to how accomplished she feels for being the reason behind your smile 

she’s a QUEEN 👑 UGH 😩💓

[iphoenixrising]

More on the Robinpile Soulmate au

You know, babes, people and their wonderful, encouraging comments on that work in progress are fucking beautiful, so.

I’m going to put a little snippet down that’s probably going to rip at your heart strings and spoil the story a bit for you if you decide to read this small bit. So, just FYI Spoiler. 

But, if you’d like a little more on how that story is going to go, welp. here you are *bows*

Note: not formatted or beta read. 

After so much careful planning and preparation, Plan C is a go. 

Robin is running over rooftops, scanning every shadow for a hint of Red Robin in Gotham. Nightwing and the Red Hood, Black Bat, Batgirl, and Signal are all in crucial parts of the city, on the lookout as well.

He, Jason, and Dick have spent weeks preparing for this, hoping their last-ditch effort would be enough to convince Tim his time as Robin hadn’t been in vain, that he was still, would always be a Bat. 

That is the goal tonight, not to try convincing him to give them a chance as soulmates because that is likely impossible, but they could start a much more important mission, to try in their own ways to give him back something they’d all taken. To try to show they knew what they’d done to him, and perhaps could start them on the road to make it right.

(He hopes there’s still a chance.)

Fabrication didn’t take long, but the coupe de gras certainly did. 

Word Red Robin would be in Gotham on the down-low gave them a chance to finally act, and Oracle promised them she would do her best to stall their soulmate until Robin could get to him.

And it’s a pang of pain, a lightning strike, when he catches up with Red on the roof of the Wallstone Apartments. The memory of the cut grapple line in the foreground of Robin’s thoughts.

“Please help,” Robin makes himself fall off his grapple to his knees, bent over, panting. “Red Robin, please.” 

(Not all of it is an act, not with how hard he was running to get to Red before he vanished into the city.)

The older vigilante kneels by him, out of immediate reach. 

“Where?” Is Tim’s Red Robin voice, a hand almost reaches out, clenches tight at the last second to draw back, and Robin sees the aborted move, has a flare of hope.

“Cannery Row–” and Robin rocks to the side, looks up at that closed expression, dares to let the fluttering in his chest give him strength.

Hands and arms around him, steady him, pull him up on his knees. He thinks about the grip Red Robin has on his shoulders to hold him up, how tightly Tim is able to hold on. A finger taps his mask so the whiteouts slide up, taking away some of his nightvision. He’s not concussed, is perfectly fine, but through his research, an injured (seemingly) teammate in need is one of Tim’s weaknesses. 

“Robin–”

“We need you, there is too much happening in the city tonight. We are all stretched too thin,” and there is nothing but the truth in his eyes, his demeanor, the way his gloved hand tightens in the cape over Red’s shoulder. 

“All right, stay here, call Hood or N to pick you up–”

But Robin staggers to his feet, “I can’t. I must get you to the safehouse. Everything we need is there.”

He keeps himself from a triumphant bellow when Red Robin paces him to the edge of the roof, grapple already in hand. 

Luckily, Cannery Row is close enough they don’t have to go far, just their past hanging between them, the connection that’s agonizingly cold and silent even when they’re side-by-side. 

Robin lands it this time on the roof of the familiar warehouse. He taps the comm unit on as he touches down, hopes Red won’t notice. 

They climb through a service elevator shaft, the two of them prying open the doors once they hit the underground floor. 

“Give me the details,” Red’s whole body tense as they lower themselves down into the darkness.

“Black Bat is in the Central Business District, Hood is by the Iceburg Lounge, Nightwing is in the Diamond District. Father is tracking down leads for a case, Batgirl is on her way to the Steel Mill. We still have no coverage for the situation in the City Hall District, but you cannot go alone.”

When they get the doors pried open, when Red Robin was close enough for his cape to brush against his, the underground is revealed in shadows, just as he, Jason, and Richard left it a few hours earlier.

(This is a newer Batman Incorporated holding. Robin is banking on the fact Tim might not know this, his heart starting to beat harder, faster when they get closer to the first stage of Plan C.)

The lights kick on as planned, and in the large expansive floor, a drop-cloth-covered something waits.

That’s all.

Red Robin is looking around for anything, searching for traps, evidence, something to give him an idea of what he’s walking into, back pressed against the elevator before he starts to step out. 

His vigilante instincts aren’t going crazy, but he stays close to the shadows as he sneaks out, leaving Robin behind in the elevator shaft to stay or follow.

(Where Damian has the next step in the plan waiting, a duffle bag he’d hidden in the panel of the elevator shaft. He’s fast and silent, throwing off his gloves, gauntlets, cape, and utility belt–)

His instincts still aren’t blaring dangerdangerdanger and his wrist computer isn’t picking up any foreign tech when Red Robin finally gets to the drop-cloth with a frown, wondering if they’ve come across a piece of shady tech or something. 

Which is really the only explanation for why Robin would come to him at all, everyone else busy in Gotham notwithstanding. 

He grips the cloth and pulls hard, muscles tense for whatever fuckey waits for him underneath. 

When he gets an eyeful, his knees go terribly weak for a long painful moment as he stares at–

The Red Bird.

“Oh...fuck,” because his eyes are instantly hot and full, making him blink rapidly behind the whiteouts.

And it gleams in the overhead lights, red and black and shiny, looks like it did the day Bruce showed it to him in the Cave, ready to tear into the night. 

His chest hitches and the possibility this could be a cruel joke hits him hard enough to choke.

(It’s because he rejected them. This sick shit is because he refused to let bygones be bygones.)

“Open the door, Tim. Everything you will need tonight is ready for you.” 

It’s Dami’s voice echoing behind him, not Robin’s, and Red can’t bring himself to look away, too many things churning in his brain pan around the shock and anger and regret and grief. It might be stupid for him to reach out, to make his wobbly knees work, to open the door with a bigger hand than the last time he did this. 

The inside is immaculate, even after years of disuse that Red Robin has to wonder how and why and what the absolute fuck is happening here?

But on the seat, folded neatly with all the bells and whistles, the shuriken R on the red tunic gleams bright in the halogen glow. His throat gets tight when he realizes it’s his original red, gold, and green–the colors of joy. 

The colors from the best years, before it all started to go horribly wrong.

A noise comes out of him, something low and pained before he can rein it in, before he can remind himself he’s already moved past the point this should still mean something. 

(But it does, it always has, it’s always meant so much, especially back when he was just a kid in a silent, empty house. It meant he had a place, a purpose, a presence at his back when things got to be too much, too overwhelming.)

And it’s stupid how helpless he is, how some part of him –small and weak as it is– can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch, to grab, to try to hold the fuck on.

(Not because of the name itself, never that, but everything he’d lost the second it had all been taken away. A final nail in the coffin, back to being that boy in an empty house.)

When he reaches for the suit, he holds it in both hands like he’s seeing things, chest stuttering on a breath when the scent of new leather and Kevlar proves he hasn’t been drugged or the sleep dep severely fucking with him. 

Stepping from the shadows, no longer in Robin but a black suit of some nameless ninja, Damian Wayne is holding the hood and face covering he’s going to wear for the night, waits until he sees how his soulmate will react to this possibly disastrous plan. 

He takes careful, tentative steps closer, taking in the hunched shoulders, bowed head, reaching into the Bond when it is ice cold in his chest.

“Wh-what the fuck is this?” Hoarse and painful from his, their Tim. And Dami’s hands automatically reach out in desperation to comfort before he remembers himself and hesitates. 

Even if the Bond on his side is closed, cold, silent, Damian breathes in and attempts to send calming, soothing feelings, tries to let his own emotions, his hope, his affection, his protectiveness, his respect, his reverence for this man be available should the Bond at any moment open even slightly. 

His soulmate’s rigid control to close himself off from them comes from years of training, of trying to protect himself is such a point of pain that some part of him thinks the three of them together could crash through if they tried, could break down those walls by force. 

But he’s here tonight, had worked so hard with N and Hood and Father and Batgirl and Black Bat and Oracle to plan it all, set it all up, because he’s different now, has learned what his actions had cost him, has realized he can’t go back to the old ways. 

Instead, he hopes they will have this last chance, will give Tim enough reasons to open up without fear, without pain.

(“It started with taking the cape,” Dick thinks aloud once the three of them are together after a long night, finding comfort, “he thinks he was kicked out of the family, so...this shouldn’t have been about soulmates in the first place.”

“I do not understand, Beloved,” Dami yawns, buried himself deeper against Jason’s chest.

“It’s not about gettin’ him like that, Sweets,” Jay replies, stroken a hand through his hair. “Might never happen…” 

“But, we could give him back some of what we took. He could finally come home again–”

Dami’s eyes open, “we...could give him back his place in the family. Or at least try to do so. Is that what you are saying?”

“Hm,” Jay grunts out, arms stealthy when he wraps them both up, rolls to put himself in the middle, “sounds like we godda last resort, now don’t it?”

“We’ll call it Plan C since it’s our last chance.”)

Plan C, indeed.

“Tim,” and he gives them only a few feet of space, no domino, no hood, no face coverings, no masks, holds up both hands in what he hopes is a peaceful gesture. 

Red Robin spins with a growl, muscles tense in fight or flight, ready to throw the fuck down because why fix up the Red Bird and bring it here of all places? What game is this? Haven’t they broken him enough?

But Damian isn’t in the tunic he was wearing less than ten minutes ago, and Red Robin stops cold at the obviously planned costume change.  He takes a careful step away from the very familiar suit Damian is wearing now, one that looks crazily like B’s when he was Tengu, trying to get himself back enough to take the cowl from Jean-Paul back when shit was crazy but even then he still had Nightwing at his back and–and…

What is wrong with him? He hasn’t thought about any of this in years. 

But still. But still, his eyes go to the gleaming Red Bird, and those better times well up from within, a place so deep, he’d convinced himself he’d left all of it behind. 

(Nightwing and Spoiler, school and the Cave, new baddies in Gotham to throw more crazy into the Rogue Gallery mix, teenage angst and sidekick wins, people at his back and front even in the worst of times. Being Red for the Titans was good, so good, but not ever the same. Not like it was when he was that Robin.)

He’s still holding the tunic in both hands, fists clenching it tight like something would have to pry his hands open to take it away (again) when what he really needs to do is throw it back in the Bird and get the absolute fuck out of here. Because this isn’t his anymore, apparently never should have been if the last few years were any kind of indication on the Tim Drake policy. 

“This is cruel, even for you,” is snarly and low, is simmering anger trying to cover up old pain, pissing him off even more because he’d finally gotten to the place where he could forget for a while. 

(And he’ll get there again. Even after all this.)

He makes his fingers unclench, throws the tunic back on the driver’s seat, but none of that covers up how hoarse his voice is, how tight his chest feels.

Dami just moves one hand, slowly pulls out his phone, thumbs the pass code to unlock the screen, and turns the device around to show Red what’s doing on the main screen.

His brain doesn’t process the image that’s him, one of the few existing pictures from years ago when he was still with Young Justice, the one of the core four making stupid faces, torn up from whatever space battle they’d just come back from, half-insane with sleep deprivation and injuries, only back to the planet for moments to celebrate not dying with pizza and Zestis, arms thrown around each other with rips and bruises and blood still staining the uniforms.

Why the fuck it meant something to Damian is the real question. 

“I was wrong, when I came to the Tower,” Damian takes a tentative step toward him, still holding the phone out like a distraction that was really a message. “I told you I wanted to know this man you are now. The man that is one of my soulmates. However...however, I was wrong, Tim. You were my soulmate even back then. You were mine, and even if you weren’t, you were already part of the family when I came to Father, and I did not even give you a chance. I did not see how important you were, what lengths you went to make that symbol your own.  I was terrified, young, foolish, but that is no excuse. What I should have been doing all this time is learning who you were back then before I attempted to approach you. Only by knowing that boy could I hope to understand this man.”

Wait, what now? How is this happening right now? All the awful things he’d secretly wanted to hear from the blood son, another chosen one. Another crux of his tangled emotions.

“I already told you I don’t need fucking soulmates. I rejected you.” He bites out, trying to breathe, trying to shove those emotions back down where they belong, trying to pretend the sight of the car, the tunic, the things he used to call his own, can’t touch him anymore. 

(But it still has power, so much fucking power to break him down to this, that scared kid in an empty house.)

After all these years, he’s moved on...right?

“I know, Beloved,” Dami puts his phone away, green eyes never leaving Red Robin’s tense form. “But this? Tonight? This has nothing to do with soulmates.”

Which is absolutely not what he expects to hear.

“Tonight is about my predecessor, Beloved, not my soulmate. This is for the Robin that stood in Gotham before me,” and it’s gentle in ways Red Robin never imagined Damian could be, not with him. “This,” and Damian sweeps a hand over the car, the suit, “is for the brother we never should have driven away. The one who gave this name his own brand of honor and power, the one who carved a place for himself in the family. Not as the third Robin in line, but as the first Tim Drake.”

Red Robin’s hands fall enough to be less of a threat. Other than that, he isn’t moving, is listening even if it’s grudgingly, even if it’s with disbelief, even if it’s with skepticism, and Damian smiles softly, so softly, at this beautiful, broken man before him.

“My place?” Is hoarse, a warmer edge that isn’t blank coldness, isn’t so much control. “In case you missed it, my place hasn’t mattered in the last few fucking years–”

“Hasn’t it?” And Dami’s eyes are so green, dark jade that catches in the light, easy to pick out. “Hasn’t it mattered?”

The obvious drawback is an opening, a misstep in the detective’s assumptions that Dami takes the opportunity for what it is.

“I know how it must seem,” and he makes himself stop stepping forward when every instinct in his body screams to approach, to reach out, to take this man in his arms, to whisper endearments, to apologize until the tears dry, until Tim’s arms can unlock, until he can start with the smallest measure of belief with splashes of powerful violet.  

“I know the years we’ve let you draw further away. I know there’s been disdain and cruelty until that’s all there was between us. And I did not choose to acknowledge it, my wrongdoings. It was easier to hide, Tim, just as it was for Jason and Richard and Father. We were cowards, but not once in all these years have you ever been simply forgotten.”

And here is where preparation for their detective is perfectly done when Damian whips out his utility belt computer and quietly holds it out, his hand trembling ever so slightly.

The evidence is there in clips of Todd sneaking into a familiar penthouse apartment with a bag of coffee in hand or taking a First Aid kit from under the kitchen counter to restock it, it’s there when video shows Richard in the Batsuit, in Nightwing, in Officer Grayson, in workout clothes, in jeans and t-shirt with both hands always pressed to the glass case with Tim’s first Robin suit, it’s there when Father sits on the bed in Tim’s old room over the years with a familiar shining, shuriken R flipping over the fingers of one hand. It’s there in the attempted hacks of Titan’s Tower when the Batcomputer pings with alerts of a bad fight for the Titans. It’s there in all the protocols when Ra’s starts movement against Red Robin, when their worst enemies are cataloged to the nines and contingencies from each member of the Batfamily are so obviously ready.

(With some pride in himself, Dami is the one that came up with the plan to take down Brother Blood, while Jason’s shoot-now-ask-questions-later is crucial to dealing with The Light. Grayson’s  experience with the Fearsome Five, Father’s methodical touch to deal with The Insiders.)

It’s there in the smallest details they’d silently done over the years (these things happening without the need to point out how necessary and does Damian ache with the knowledge how easy it could have been to reach out so many, many times), could be enough at a glance to start the seedlings of doubt in Red Robin’s firm belief his place has simply been forgotten.

And Damian hears it in the catch of breath, a soft inward draw. He can’t see behind the whiteouts of Red Robin’s mask, but he hopes, hopes there might be a spark of indecision.

“You were never forgotten.” Gently, Damian reaches out slowly, just enough to close gloved fingers over the screen. “But, you don’t need to hear it from me, Beloved, you need real proof and that we shall provide tonight. Get changed. You’re needed.”

Conflicted as fuck, Red Robin processes as much as he can in that few minutes, muscles in his shoulders unbearably tight. “I’m not going to just patrol with the Bats, especially under your name.”

“It is not as simple as patrol, I’m afraid. We have several Arkham escapees, a possible gang war, and several other take downs lined up,” which is the absolute truth. “I did not lie when I said we needed your help with the overwhelming criminal activity in the last twelve hours.”

Carefully planned twelve hours for one night they’ve been putting into motion for months. 

With the computer in hand, feeling more vulnerable than he’s felt behind the mask in years, Red Robin grits his teeth because only the Bats can do this to him. “I can still help the hell out without the bullshit emotional manipulation. Let me guess, this is Dick’s idea.”

“All of us had a hand in it, actually. The Red Bird itself was my idea. Jason and Father helped to restore it to its former glory. Dick, however, had the idea to make it authentic with the suit.”

“Do you even know how messed up this is for me?” Tumbles right out when he wants cold fury, when he wants to snarl at the obvious manipulation at play–

(while being stupidly impressed they actually seemed to know him to put all the pieces in place, make him play right into their hands with a well thought-out plan. Fuck.)

“The point of all of this, Tim, is to give you one last Robin Ride.”

Cue being at a total loss here because what multiverse did he fall into? Seriously, this can’t be his world, not when those words popped out of Damian’s mouth, and along with it, so many possibilities looming right in front of him.

At the same time, dread crawls up his throat, spills bitter into his mouth.

“Even if you never want us, we will, as you said, learn to live with it.” Damian fights to keep it neutral as just the thought of continuing on in this way as they have for weeks, always aware of the empty spot where their fourth should be, makes him cold all over. Still, this cannot be for them, not if they are serious about setting things right in the only way they can. “Even if that is the case, Tim, I...we. We still want to give you this,” his hand sweeps over the Red Bird again.

Because it’s all so much in one go, things he never thought he’d hear, never could have thought would be offered. Unconsciously, his eyes go to the gleaming fender behind the whiteouts. “None of this is– I brought the Bird back years ago so B could remake it for you.”

And Dami chances one more step closer, “but it is yours, Tim. Father made it for you, to keep you safe, and it will always be yours, Robin or not. It should have been given back to you long before tonight, and for that, I apologize.” He tries smiling just a little, “but, better late than never as they say.”

Red’s got nothing for that, for any of this, stares helplessly while Damian pulls on the hood and face covering, only his green eyes visible. 

Red’s jaw is tight, clenching down because he finally gets it. He isn’t going to wake up in the Tower, asleep at his workstation, thinking this is a terribly embarrassing message from his subconscious.

“You will need this,” and Damian holds out a hand again. This time, a Batcomm rests in his palm. “The others are waiting for you, Robin.”

“I-I can’t–” because this is fucking real, this is really happening. As much as he’s sure Damian is bullshitting him about this not being a soulmate thing, his eyes are still getting hot, his chest aching, his throat tight. “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” Damian counters gently. “We...I owe you this. Dick will argue he does also. Jason as well. We cannot give you the things we have taken, not completely. As much as I wish we could change things, overcome our own insecurities to remind you that you will always have a place…” Dami sighs, “we cannot go back, either. Not really, but in order to go forward, we can give you the proof you need to see you have always had a place. So, just for tonight, Tim, be our Robin again.”

Damian doesn’t give him time to formulate a reply while he feels like he just got fucking stabbed hearing that out of the current Robin’s mouth. 

“This is wrong, this isn’t–”

Damian lays the Batcomm on the top of the car and slowly backs away, melting into the shadows.

“On the contrary,” echoes around him and the lights go out in the underground, only a section of them lighting up the Red Bird. “This may be the one thing we’ve gotten right.” 

The flutter of paper he hadn’t noticed is on the ground from where he’d tossed the old/new suit. 

The chime on his wrist computer is a surprising upload of locations in Gotham pinging his algorithm, indicating a little vigilante action wouldn’t be amiss. Damian apparently wasn’t lying about too many fires and too few Bats. But, there’s too much happening in hot spots, and he won’t make the most crucial if he’s swinging. He needs a Ducati or–

His eyes go back to it, another symbol of his best days. Back when he could call himself a Bat, and it wouldn’t have been a lie.

Under the mask, Tim Drake breathes out, shuttering through the old pain that lights up his brain pan. 

He could turn right the fuck around and walk out of this warehouse with his heart still in check, with his emotions back under control. He could reject this attempt as sure as he’s been rejected for years. 

But the tiny part of him that’s always mourned the loss of his tunic is a stronger voice this time, and his hands twitch in his gloves before moving to pick up the discarded suit again, to look at those short sleeves, the green gloves, the shuriken R that was his design – not Damian’s or Jay’s or Dick’s but his. 

The suit blurs and Red Robin realizes it’s because his eyes are spilling over behind the whiteouts.

[kisskeiji]

6. Love me right.

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of self doubt and spiraling 

The closer the Volleyball Association awards ceremony was, the busier your schedule was, with the end of the season and the team winning their final match your phone wouldn’t stop ringing with reporters from sports magazines and channels trying to get a word from the athletes, the team went on for at least three weeks without a break; everyone was way too exhausted to bear with another interview. You had to travel around the country for away games every other week and the moment you came back home after the season finale you had to jump back into ‘babysitter duty’ supervising the press conferences, television appearances and exclusive interviews. You tried to relieve the soreness of your neck by rubbing it as you walked to the meeting room where everyone including the team waited for you. 

“Please no more interviews, Y/N, we are begging.” Inunaki said as soon as you entered the room. Everyone looked at you with pleading eyes — everyone except Bokuto who was busy stuffing himself with cookies—, you sighed and took your seat next to Imai.

“We are done with your schedule, don’t worry about that.” You said and turned to greet your team, taking the coffee one of your assistants got you and taking a big sip almost forgetting the drink was hot, your face contorted in pain but you tried your best to hide it, you were wide awake now, not from the coffee but from your burnt tongue. 

“Let’s make this quick guys, I think we all want to go home.” Hideko got up from her seat and buttoned her coat. “Season’s over, congratulations on your win, the sponsors and everyone’s pockets are extremely happy.” Everyone laughed at her comment as she kept talking. “I think the promotion period was even more exhausting than the matches for you guys, and we are thankful to all of you because surprisingly no one messed things up, so our headlines are clear.” You nodded along her speech while you reviewed your notes. Hideko thanked the staff and also talked about what was about to come with the new year approaching. “We are holding to our usual holiday agenda, the training grounds and the gym are open if you want to train by yourself but I don’t think coach Foster wants to see your faces for at least a month.” 

“She’s right, please stay away from me.” Coach Foster said massaging the bridge of his nose and the team smiled, they all knew the man cared deeply for them and their well being. Bokuto, who was sitting beside him, gave him a side hug that made him grasp for whatever surface was in front of him. 

“Bokuto, stop tormenting the poor man.” Hideko glared at him. “As you might know, the big night it’s on New Year's eve. Some of the staff is required such as Y/N and her team, me, of course.” She rolled her eyes with her hand on her chest, stating his presence as a given. “And our athletic trainers, so don’t make plans this year. The rest of the staff is invited too but have the option not to go and spend the holiday with their families like normal people.” She sighed, not precisely delighted with the idea of spending new year technically working. 

“I can take care of things if any of you want to go home.” You said to your three assistants and they nodded. 

“Players are allowed to bring a plus one, blah blah blah, you know the drill. Please, you are grown adults and it’s the time of the year you can drink, don’t do something stupid that can end in more work for us.” She took her coffee cup from the table. “Any questions?” She asked before drinking from it, having the same reaction you had earlier to the hot beverage. “That’s really hot, shit.” She cussed.

“Do we have to wear a suit and tie?” Bokuto asked. 

“Yes, Bokuto, it’s a gala.”

“But I don’t know how to tie a tie.” He said, looking at Hideko with sad eyes. 

“Wear a bow one.” She answered without enthusiasm. “Y/N take the lead, I have another meeting with scary people with money.” She really meant the sponsors and the team owners, for someone as fierce and imposing to be intimidated by them meant they were business and one she had to tiptoe around to keep them happy, after meeting them at the team party you understood why she avoided them like the plague. 

“I just have some things to run with you guys and then we can go home, I’m not taking too long.”  You stood up when Hideko left. “No more interviews, your schedule is closed for the rest of the month and I will start booking once we announce the team tryouts on mid January. Like always, I'm not responsible for paparazzi’s but if you get spotted you already know what to do.” Taking a deep breath you continued as you reviewed your notebook. “Regarding the awards, if you win something the interviews are not in my hands, so expect casual interviews the day after. We will be monitoring during the holidays too, so you can call me if something happens.” You looked up to everyone listening to you attentively. 

It felt good, being respected felt good. You were more than thankful for the opportunities you had and for taking the position, specially with the Black Jackals, it was a family in every aspect and you felt welcomed since day one and being recognized for all your work the past six months was enough for you to walk with your head up high again proud of your work and your team. “And lastly, I would like to thank all of you for working so well this season and putting up with the hell sent schedule we had the past month. I think we all did a great job.” You offered a bright smile to everyone in the room. 

“Are you kidding? You saved our asses this season, Y/N! We should be thanking you.” Inunaki said and everyone agreed. 

“That’s true, you did an amazing job since day one.” You looked at Meian who smiled at you fondly. 

“Well, it was a team effort, my girls worked really hard too.” You pointed at your three assistants who looked at you with pink cheeks and shiny eyes. “Well, unless any of you have any questions I think that’s it for today.”  Everyone gathered their belongings and left the meeting room, you went straight to your office to get your purse and lock the place before heading home. 

“Wanna have some lunch with ‘Samu?” You heard Atsumu say. 

“That depends, can I pay for my food?” 

“Not a chance.” He shook his head. “He invited Kita-san and Suna apparently likes you better than me and asked me to invite you.” He explained and you raised a brow. 

“You don’t want me there?” You laid on your desk, hands resting on your sides and legs crosses in front of you, he rolled his eyes and walked closer to you. 

“Of course I do, what are you talking about?” His warm hand caressed your cheek and you held to his wrist moving his hand to rest on your shoulder. “So? You coming or not. If you don’t ‘Samu will be mad at me.” 

“He’s a big boy, he’ll live.” You joked and he poked your side. “Let me lock the place and we can go.” You grabbed your keys from your desk and locked your office, hoping to not have to come back in a few weeks. Sighing, you turned back to see Atsumu holding his car keys and a smug grin, you walked out the training grounds and to the parking lot where some members of the team had a conversation outside their cars, you waved goodbye and Atsumu opened the front seat door for you. 

“Driving her again, Miya?” Barnes asked boarding his own car. 

“Such a gentleman, I’m so proud.” Inunaki followed. 

“Very funny, Inu-san. But no, we are having lunch with my brother.” You couldn’t really hear what they were saying right after he closed the door, but figured that they were still messing with him by Atsumu’s expression. “God, they are so annoying.” He grumbled when he got in the car. 

“Everything okay?” You looked at him in the eye, his brows were furrowed and a few creases showed his frustration and annoyance at his teammates. You ran your thumb across his forehead and smiled. “You are going to get wrinkles before you turn thirty, ‘Tsumu.” His ears turned red at your sudden touch and he tried to hide it by frowning even more. 

“Let’s just go.” He could almost swear his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He started the car engine and maneuvered in reverse turning his head back and his hand intentionally placed on the head rest of your seat. “You have plans for the holidays?” 

“My family is coming for Christmas and we are visiting some relatives not too far from here; and of course the awards, I might travel to Miyagi to see some friends but I’m not sure yet.” You played with the seatbelt as you recounted your plans. “What about you?”

“‘Samu and I are going to Hyogo to see our parents, we usually visit Kita and his grandma with the rest of the team the day after christmas and then Suna and I are driving to Tokyo for the party.” With his body slightly forward making sure there were no other cars, he took the turn to the avenue where Onigiri Miya was located, his finger drummed on the gear shift to the music from the radio. 

“Osamu is not going to the party?” You questioned. 

“He gave vacations to all of his employees and has to take care of the shop.” He explained and stopped the car in front of the shop. “I'm starving.” You took your seatbelt off and opened the door at the same time as him, not giving him time to open the door for you like he always did, but he was faster than you and opened the entrance door. It was almost noon so the shop was quite busy, people in the stalls and booths enjoying their food and talking about their days, the constant sound of silverware jingling and the smell of fresh rice welcomed you into the shop as you walked to the counter where Suna’s slouched figure waited. Atsumu greeted him with a pat on his back, making Suna turn around to shake hands and ‘bro hug’ him. “Where 's ‘Samu? 

“The kitchen, he should be done by now. Hi, Y/N.” Suna pushed Atsumu to the side and grinned at you lazily. 

“Hey Suna, I haven’t seen you since the match in Sendai.”  Like Hana, Suna got along with you pretty fast, you caught up with his sarcastic humor and easy going personality, he showed you a lot of photos from his high school memories, he was a great story teller, never missing embarrassing details and adding snarky comments here and there. On said match at Sendai, you finally figured out why he looked so familiar the first time you met him. It turns out he went to the same university as you and you interviewed the middle blocker once for an article when you were a journalist for your school’s newspaper. When you told him he laughed at you saying he already knew but wanted to see how long it would take you to figure it out.

“Well, you’ve been busy.” He looked to the side, his tone was bitter, the taste of defeat lingering on his tongue after losing the finals to the Black Jackals. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Suna.” You said taking the seat by his side, almost missing his jaw clenching. “Losing is normal, you don’t have to feel bad about it.” You teased. 

“You are not going to let me live that one down, aren’t you?”  

“Absolutely not.” You looked at Atsumu this time, he was looking at his phone screen clearly bored, he was extremely moody when hungry, that’s something you learnt during the season when he would go quiet for hours and back to his usual self once he had something to eat. “You okay?” You asked and he laid his head on your shoulder. 

“I’m hungry.” He groaned. You gave him a few pats on the side of his face and felt his body relax to your touch as you continued your chat with Suna. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Osamu chimed in coming out of the kitchen, making his brother get up instantly. “Food is almost ready, before you ask.” 

“Perfect timing.” You heard a stern voice behind you and all three tensed, you looked behind you to see Kita removing his cap. “I need some help with the rice bags, mind helping me?”  Atsumu and Osamu made their way to the door and to Kita’s truck in no time, Kita trailing behind. 

“Why do you guys look so scared?” You asked Suna. 

“Are you kidding? Kita popped out of nowhere!” Suna whispered, as if Kita could hear him from outside the shop. “He’s really scary sometimes.” You rolled your eyes. Kita was intimidating and really severe, but not enough to make you shiver.

“You only say that because you guys always do something to upset him.” 

“That’s not true.” He exclaimed. 

“Nothing to hide, nothing to fear, dear.” The restaurant doors opened, showing Atsumu and Osamu fighting to get in first, pushing each other, Suna and you watched unamused, knowing one of them would get hurt sooner or later, you were now used to their sometimes not so playful fighting. Just as you were placing your bet with Suna, they stopped on their tracks and Osamu stepped back to let Atsumu walk in. “What just happened?” You asked yourself rather than Suna, Kita stood behind the twins , Atsumu walked past you and lifted the countertop door, leaving the rice bag on the cold table. You heard Osamu mumble ‘I’m sorry, Kita-san.’ from the door and went straight to the kitchen. You couldn’t believe how easily he made the twins calm down. 

“Sorry about that.” Kita apologized to you. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m already used to it.” You said calmly. Kita and Atsumu sat down and Osamu came out of the kitchen with another server, one plate of onigiri on each hand. You thanked him and the server who gave you a water bottle. Atsumu, as impatient as he was, scarfed down the extremely hot onigiri and immediately opened his mouth, steam came out from it and he whined in pain, placing his hand under his chin to prevent food from spilling. Everyone watched him jump on his seat chanting ‘hot, hot, hot’  as he tried to chew the rice ball, you giggled and opened his water bottle for him, when he finally swallowed his food he exhaled in relief and gulped down half of the contents from the plastic bottle. 

“Where are your manners, Atsumu? You can’t do that kind of thing in front of the girl you are courting.”  Kita reprimanded him and Atsumu choked on his water, little droplets spilling on the counter. Suna and Osamu couldn’t stop laughing at the setter — you were laughing too, but you felt bad for Atsumu— you made sure he wasn’t choking anymore and excused yourself to the bathroom, ears burning from Kita’s comment. “What was that?” Atsumu’s eyes almost popped out of his face. 

“What?” Kita asked, unbothered. 

“The girl you are courting? Really?” Atsumu stressed running his hands through his hair. 

“Well, aren’t you?” Kita inquired. 

“Yes! But it sounds weird when you say it like that.” Embarrassed, Atsumu rested his head on the counter looking at  Suna’s direction, Osamu wiped the wet surface and yanked Atsumu’s hair lightly to make him sit correctly as you joined them again, asking him if he felt better, he nodded and moved closer to you. As always, Osamu’s food was amazing and you had fun messing with Suna and Osamu, so much that you didn’t noticed the moment they all started planning the next reunion at your place, claiming that it was your initiation as the newest addition to the group, but you knew they just were nosy, even Kita was curious to know where you lived, so you couldn’t say no. 

You waited outside the restaurant with Kita who insisted on keeping you company while Atsumu and Suna helped Osamu with something in the back. “How are things going between you two?” He asked, completely aware of how vague the question was, just wanting to test the waters. You gulped and met his eyes.

“Atsumu and I? Uh, fine, I guess.” You answered uncertainly, tilting your head.

“He’s taking too long.” He asserted with his arms crossed.

“I guess you are right, but I don’t want to rush anything or make him feel like he has to do something when I could easily take the first step, but I’m afraid he’s not sure yet.” You rambled in your place, Kita grinned and looked away. “You meant inside the shop, right?” His grin widened at your question and you huffed in frustration. “That was not funny.” 

“I didn’t do anything, but now that you got that out of your system, I think that’s a conversation you should have with Atsumu. It’s almost painful seeing you two being limited by a simple title when you can fix that rather easily, I don’t know what’s stopping you.” He pondered. 

‘A lot of things.’ You thought. You fixed your eyes on the glass door, you could see Atsumu coming out of the kitchen along with his brother, he looked upset, dragging his feet with every step like a kicked puppy. “Think about it.” That was Kita’s final remark before Atsumu walked out the door, you waved goodbye to Osamu and Kita and walked to Atsumu’s car, feeling a familiar numbness on your limbs and the stinging sensation on your head increased with every passing minute. 

Kita’s words were crude, but you were sure he meant no harm, but even so, the last thing you wanted to do was thinking about the stage of your pseudo-relationship with Atsumu, the reality check tied to it was terrifying. You didn’t want to ruin everything, afraid of not being what he wanted but what he settled for, —or even worse, a distraction— you tried to shrug it all away, but it was hard to believe after all you went through. The thought of not being enough was enough to make you shiver, muscle memory taking you back to the time where you lost yourself to the viciousness of your own brain and it’s deprecating self speech of unworthiness and pity. 

You were stronger now, yes, but at what cost? You now lacked trust and silently craved reassurance or a sign that you were doing things right for yourself this time. 

Staring at the road lost in your thought you couldn’t hear Atsumu calling your name, you felt a big hand on your knee, moving it slightly to get your attention. “Are you okay?” He was clearly worried, luckily the traffic light turned red, you turned your head and stared at him confused. “You are a bit out of it since we left the restaurant.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking. You said something?” 

“I was saying that my building’s management called and said the complex is out of power and that it would take a few hours to fix the problem, and I asked you if I could stay with you for a few hours.” He repeated himself. 

“Sure, it’s still really early, we can watch a movie if you want to.” You offered trying to ease the tension. “Anything but Fast and Furious.” 

“Come on! They are amazing.” He protested. The light turned green and he moved the car.

“We watch them every time you are at my place.” You complained. “Let’s watch something else, it’s getting old.” Atsumu gasped, offended by your comment. 

“Terminator then.” He laughed at your annoyed expression and kept driving ‘til you reached your building’s parking lot. You changed your clothes while Atsumu picked the movie. He was really worried about you, what happened at the restaurant? He texted Kita asking if you said something or looked uncomfortable while he was being lectured by Osamu and Suna. ‘You need to talk.’ was Kita’s reply, sighing he left his phone on the coffee table and waited for you to come out of your room. 

‘I don’t know what game you are playing here, but don’t waste that girl’s time.’

Osamu’s words replayed in his head. Was he really taking too long? He knew the answer to that question, but uncertainty always fogged his thinking, and a thousand other questions creeped inside, making it harder for him to tell you how much he needed you. How much would things change if the unspoken pact you two created turned into a real talk, would you stay? 

He was not afraid of commitment, he was afraid that he never committed to anything that wasn’t volleyball, he didn’t know how to be a boyfriend but he knew he wanted to be yours. You never treated him differently and cared enough to see past the bad reputation he had, you cared about him. He got used to your nature but oftentimes forgot about how important stability can be, you weren’t teenagers anymore and sooner or later you would get tired. He had all the intentions, but just like you, the fear of not being enough held him back. 

You were scared of being replaced and he was scared to hurt you. 

“What are we watching?” You sat by his side and crossed your legs. You were now wearing a hoodie with the team logo and signature claw scratches, sweatpants and your hair was tied in a high ponytail. 

“I couldn’t pick one, so you choose.” He passed you the remote and laid back on the couch. You ended up watching Bride Wars, the two of you had terrible taste in movies so you alway went for the safe options, and you always ended up chatting halfway through and not paying attention to the film. 

“She deserves better than Fletcher anyway.” Atsumu played with your hair as the movie credits appeared on the screen, your back was on his chest raising slightly with his steady breathing. 

“She really did, she settled because she felt pressured.” You held his hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. 

“What do you mean?” He looked down at your hands now connected and smiled to himself. 

“When you spend that many years with someone you think the only reasonable thing is to stay forever with them, and sometimes that’s not what you want, but that realization comes really late, look at her, she was about to get married when she came to her senses, she was getting married because it was what everyone expected her to do, she had to convince herself she wanted it, that she wanted him.” You explained. “He made things hard for her, and still she tried to make it work for both of them, it wasn’t fair for her.” Atsumu hummed in agreement and noticed how your tone decreased with every word. You went silent for a while lost in your thoughts again. 

“You’ve been acting weird since we left the restaurant. What 's going on?” He asked, shifting in his place trying to get a better look of your face, your eyes were glossy and your brows slightly furrowed. 

“I don’t know.” You sighed heavily. “I’m scared.”  You played with the strings of your hoodie. “I don’t want to feel like someone just settled for me again.” You continued, fighting the memories from last year when you felt his arms tightening around you. “I don’t want to go through that again, I got so used to giving more than I could, to trying to do my best and beyond and still that wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough.” You weren’t crying, there was nothing to cry about in the first place, you were just tired of battling your inner thoughts, you wanted a break.

“Don’t say that, your ex was an idiot for letting you go. Y/N, you are the most caring and dedicated person I’ve ever met, if anything, you were the one who settled for someone who couldn’t give his everything for you.” He felt the vibrations of your body as you chuckled. 

“Yeah, my friends always tell me that.”  He kissed your temple gently.

“See? He was just a scrub.”  ‘And I would treat you so much better.’

“Sorry I got too emotional.” You looked up and he placed another kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t apologize for having feelings, it’s normal.” You raised an eyebrow and tried to break free from his embrace to rest your chin on his chest. “What?” He asked. 

“I never expected you to say something like that, you are very wary of showing your feelings.” You pointed out, running a hand through his blonde hair and he poked your side making you laugh, it was your turn to peck his chin. You enjoyed the comfortable silence that set between you two, propping your head on his chest close enough to hear his heart beating, eyes closed in bliss. You were safe. 

“I’m sorry for being too slow.” He said. “I think it’s obvious I like you, and while I enjoy what we have now, you deserve clarity and I need to get this out of my chest.” He made you sit correctly,  you lightly stretched your limbs as you got up. Atsumu took your hand and played with your fingers trying to word his thoughts. “I’m scared too. I’ve never been in a relationship and I didn’t know how to talk to you about this, I thought maybe you weren’t looking for something serious, especially with me, you know? But I like to think we are on the same page now.” You nodded and he continued. “Give me a few days, let me make it special for you to see I’m serious about this, and that I want to treat you better, please.” His eyes finally met yours. 

“Take all the time you need, ‘Tsumu, I think I need some time too and  I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything.”  

“You are not, stop saying that. I want this.” He grumbled frustrated.

“Me too.” You kissed the back of his hand and he hugged you again. You watched another silly rom-com and talked about the party a little more before Atsumu received a call from his building’s management to notify him that the power was restored, it was around 7 p.m. so he got ready to leave, with his keys in one hand and his phone in his pocket he walked to the door with you following behind. “I’ll see you at the party then.” 

“That’s a lot of time.” He complained.

“Stop whining, it’s just two weeks.”  You scrunched your nose when he bent down to kiss it.

“I’ll call you everyday if I can’t see you.” He smirked. 

“Please do.” You rolled your eyes. He puckered his lips, waiting for his mandatory goodbye kiss but you took the chance to pinch his lips with your fingers making him instantly step back. “Good night, ‘Tsumu.” You said before he could say anything and closed your door. A muffled ‘That’s not fair.’ could be heard from the other side, Atsumu stared at your door, he tensed his jaw and shook his head for a second. He couldn’t hide the lovesick grin adorning his face as he walked to his car. 

He had two very long weeks ahead.   

(a/n: uh hELLO, this chapter ruined all my planning but i think those two are really cute, now QUICK QUESTION, would you like to see what iwaizumi aka mr. cheater is up to??? maybe?? no??? you guys tell me! i have the wip but idk if y’all would like to see it, i’ll be reading y’all. anyways, remember the fic has a playlist and y’all can check it out, also if you have song recs to add i would love to hear them!! i hope everyone is healthy and doing great at school or work :)) please stay safe and wear your masks!!) 

masterlist

TAGLIST (closed): @aonenthusiast @wiseeggspickleslime​ @koushisun​ @airheadpillar​ @sunflwrsandprettyskies​ @bbkiyoomi​ @daphnxy​ @shephard17895​ @avatarkyoshithewarrior​ @for-rebloggery​ @vv-bee999-vv vv @fi16ns @asdfghjkl7things @glassykaashi @strawhatshepard @hawkssnugget @msby-kei @toobsessedsstuff @a-moon-fairy @cuteissei @ramblingsofagoofyperson @pinoyrella @kiyoomisimp

[boliv-jenta]

A little fluff about the times Mando and the reader touch.

Worth the Risk.

"First rule of going on the run, don't run, walk." This advice had worked pretty well over the years. It did not take into account that one day your running companion would be a large man covered in a ridiculous shiny material. Luckily for you, your pursuers didn't actually know what either of you look like. Only that something that belonged to them had gone missing. Unluckily for you, in big crowds like this, Mandalorians drew attention. In smaller crowds people's instincts were to turn away, to not catch his attention. Hidden amongst a bigger crowd, people became bold, they stared and whispered.

"We need to get out of this crowd." Mando's voice was tense.

"The crowd will be the only thing slowing them down and hiding us from suspicion. We stay in it then make a break for the Crest when we see an opening." you replied calmly.

You had been able to move at a steady pace through the crowd, you in the lead, Mando behind. The people around you walked slowly, browsing the market stalls. Up ahead the movement of the crowd change. Drums, bells and whistles sounded in an upbeat rhythm. As soon as you passed the last stall you were swept to the side in the dancing crowd. Caught up in the movement you lost your bearings for a moment. Struggling to turn as the dancing bodies pressed into you from every direction, you managed to looked over your left shoulder. No sign of the familiar glint of Baskar in the sun. Colour swamped your vision as people dance with scarves and flags. Colourful powder burst into the air, sending out vivid rainbow clouds than misted everything they touched. The effect was beautiful but disorienting. You started to push back towards where you thought Mando had been. You ducked under flags and weaved through the crowd. Still no sign. Suddenly you were aware of someone at your side. It was strange since you were literally walled in by bodies but this felt different. As you turned, relived to see Mando, you felt him grip your hand. His grip was strong and firm. Warmth seemed to radiate through his gloves. Your hand slotted into his perfectly. Before you could think about if for too much longer he pulled you through the crowd. Making a steady progression, you periodically checked behind you. Only when you finally reached the Crest you realized that not only were you still holding hands but your fingers were now intertwined. Letting go, he went off to prepare the ship, leaving you to look down at you hand. The symbolism of space where his hand had once was being highlighted by absent of the coloured powder that had settled on your skin, wasn't lost on you.

Damn it, you cursed your own stupidity. As you lay there, shaking with fever, you listed all the things that were as beautiful as they were deadly. All the pretty flowers of various shaped blooms, their rich colours and wonderful scents. Animals that had incredibly beautiful patterns and cute features that could kill you where you stood. Mando, who's walked alone had you completely enthralled when you first saw him, could kill you in a number of ways. He might actually, if this fever was affecting you so badly that you could no longer distinguish between your internal monologue and your actual voice. He was still turned away from you mixing up a remedy so you figured you were safe. He returned to your side with a small bowl. "Here." he said placing his hand under your head, gently lifting it so you could drink. "That will counteract any poison. You're still in for a rough 24 hours but you'll live. Stay on the path and away from the tree blossoms in the future." As he lowered your head his hand grazed your cheek. It was cool compared to your heated skin. Instinctively you grabbed it, holding it still, leaning in, enjoying the relief it provided. You were too wrapped up in your own bliss to notice the sigh that came from the Mandalorian. He removed his hand and went off to fetch a cool wash cloth. He laid it over you forehead before going to sit on crate across the cargo hold from you. "Get some rest, I'll watch over you." he informed you folding his arms across his chest and relaxing back slightly.

"Can you...can you watch over me from over here?" your voice was little more that a whisper. You weren't sure if was pity or kindness that motivated him to move. He dragged the crate over next to you, getting comfortable once more. "Sleep." He uttered. Feeling safer to do so you closed your eyes.

In the morning, as your eyes blinked open, you took inventory of all the discomfort in your body. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, your back ached, your stomach churned, you hand felt strangely heavy. It took you a second to realise why. Mando's ungloved hand was in yours. Fingers interlaced just next to where his head lay on the end of your cot. Soft, steady breathing indicated he was still asleep. Shifting slightly for a better look you gave his hand a once over. His skin was tanned, less damaged than you would have thought. You thought you could see a faint scar by his thumb. To confirm you suspicions you ran your thumb across his skin. The skin itself was soft and smooth, there was a slight raise where the scar was. Even in his sleeping state there was still strength in the way his fingers held yours. The smile that had spread across your face suddenly dropped when his helmet moved and his visor met your gaze. "How are feeling?" he asked voice rough with sleep before clearing his throat.

"Better." you nodded wearily.

"Good. I'll go check on the kid." There wasn't much in his tone to read but you felt how slowly he slide his hand from yours before climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

Dust and debries rained down on you as the blaster shots hit the top of the wall you were hiding behind. "Mando!" you yelled through your comm.

"Here." he appeared over the wall blaster shots pinging off his Baskar. "Come on." he grunted dragging you to your feet.

"Where?!" you shouted taking cover in front of his armoured frame as shots ricocheted off of him.

He answered by wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you to him "Hold on."

Panic flared in you as you realised his plan. "Oh no. Mando! No. Wait!"

His hands held your face. "Trust me. Hold on."

Hell, you did trust him. Throwing your arms around his neck, you held on for dear life, literally. His jetpack roared to life and as your feet left the ground you hooked them on his calves. Once you had risen a few feet to clear the roof Mando had to tilt you back so he could control the direction you were flying in. In fear you wrapped your legs fully around him, clinging to him even tighter. He had to adjust to your new position by placing one had on your lower back on one hand behind your knee. Moments later you shrieked as something wrapped around your head. It was only when you were out from under it you realised Mando had flown you through a flag. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." he rushed out before adding loudly "There's the Crest." Coming to land inside the ship Mando gently released your leg allowing you to stand. His hand remained on your lower back until you unwrapped your arms from his neck. "Thank you." you panted. Before he could respond you added "But if you ever do that again I will steal that thing and push you out the ship mid flight."

"Shit!" you curse as the panel in front of you sparked. Thanks to a massive storm you had crashed landed on a frozen wasteland. The nearest town was too far to get to without the Crest. Mando wouldn't have been safe flying there in this weather. Hoping to patch things up so you could limp over there, you had both set to work. Hours later there was still no joy and things were only getting worse. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping. Your hands were too cold to work any more. Mando returned from outside. His visor was frosted, even with his armour he was shivering. "That's it! It's freezing. We have no power, no heat. Am sleeping until morning." you finally snapped, picking up your glow rod before stomping around the ship to gather anything that could be used as a blanket. Over the heavy sound of your feet you could hear the sounds of the ships manual locks being engaged. "The ship is secure." Mando informed you.

"Good, so you can take your armour off." you told him as you shoved all the material you had found into the small compartment where he slept.

"Why?" he asked coming to a stop next to you.

"We have to conserve body heat. The helmet can stay on. Your bunk is the best place for us to sleep." you stated

He stood for a moment, head cocked to the side in thought before beginning to remove his armour. Once he was ready you allowed Mando to climb into the small space first before crawling in beside him.

Carefully you pressed yourself into him as close as you could without letting your position become too 'intimate'. He angled his hips away from you as you slotted into his side. You folded your arms underneath you to provide another barrier. Mando lifted up a little to carefully covered you both with the blankets. He lay back down his arms fell awkwardly, one behind your back, one at his side. He shuffled slightly then seemed satisfied with his position. You were about as comfortable as you were going to get. The only problem was the cold, hard metal pressed against your face. Mando picked up on your discomfort. "Are you ok? Do you need me to move?"

"It's just..your helmet is cold. Could you maybe lift it a little? Just off your neck? I won't look." you asked wondering if you'd ask too much of him. After what felt like forever, he slowly moved the helmet up. Just enough to give you room to settle your head into his neck. The rim of his helmet rested on your head. It wasn't ideal but it was an improvement.

"Thank you." you sighed enjoying the comfort and warm he was providing you.

"You're welcome." he said quietly. Reached up above his head he pressed a button to shut the compartment door. Before he lay back down he removed the flashlight from the side of his helmet and attached it to the wall. As he settled back down he spoke "If you wake up first or need to use the fresher wake me before you touch the light or open the door. My helmet's not fully on it may slip off."

He was so matter of fact about it you almost didn't register the level of responsibility that put on you. If you awoke and forgot, his Creed could be broken. You both trusted each other to have each others backs in a fight. It was a necessity between you. This level of trust was something else. It was a little emotionally overwhelming, so you did what you always did in situations like that...joked. "Wow. I gotta say I could get pretty tempted to peek. I mean there's a flashlight right there."

"And there's a blaster right there." Mando retorted.

As you laughed into his neck, you felt his own chuckle rumble in his chest. As you drifted off to sleep you realise that his arm was now around your back, pulling you in just a little.

Surprisingly, you slept pretty well. It took you a second to become fully conscious of your surroundings and make sense of them. Thankfully, the first thing you remembered was why it was pitch black. The second thing you became aware off was that, at some point in the night, you and Mando had almost switched positions. Now you were laying on your back with him on top of you. The difference was, in your unconscious state, their was no compulsion to be polite or reserved in your touching.

Mando was almost fully on top of you. His left leg was in between your legs with you right leg over it. His arms were around your waist, holding you close and his helmet was buried in you neck. No, not his helmet, his face. At least the lower half of it was. His warm breath skimmed your skin. His cheek and the barest edge of his lips rested on you. His words from the night before ran through your head. Racking your brains, you thought of everything he had ever said about his Creed. He can't be SEEN by another living thing without his helmet, he didn't seem bothered by the possibility that his helmet could come off, just with you SEEING him with it off. So you were ok, you should just wake him, have him put it back on? Despite your own reassurances, you felt guilty. If you could slip it back on, without waking him, then there was no problem. You would take the knowledge, of the brief moment you were aware of his face against your neck, to your grave. Gently lifting your hand that had been wrapped around his back, you reached up to steady the back of his helmet. Misjudging where it was your finger tips were met with thick, soft hair. Resisting the urge to sink your fingers into it, you tried for his helmet again. This time you poured all you attention into finding and gently grasping the edge of the helmet. You concentrated, keeping your movement small, as not to wake him. You even focused on keeping your breathing steady and quiet. All your effort was going into being as silent and as stealthy as possible, which is why you almost died when Mando spoke. "Do I have to get that blaster?"

"Fuck! Don't do that!" you weren't exactly sure what you were telling him off for. For suddenly speaking and scaring you? For letting you hear his unfiltered voice and the feelings it roused in you?

His head rose for a moment as he slipped the helmet on before lowering it back to you shoulder. "Do you need to get up?"

"No." Good job you were a good liar. You could do with peeing but there was no way you were willing extract yourself from under him.

"Then sleep. The storm is still raging. We might as well rest while we can." He made no move to adjust his position or move from you before relaxing back down. Since he seemed comfortable with how your were positioned you returned your arm to his back. Sleep was now eluding you so you listened to the storm. Unconsciously, you began to rub your hand your and down Mando's lower back. The gentle movement eventually caused his tunic to ride up, exposing his skin. Only when he let out a deep sigh at your hand meeting his bare skin did you realise what you were doing and that he was awake.

"Mando..." you began, the cover of darkness suddenly making you feel bold "...when was the last time you held someone like this?"

"Like this...?" he paused "Never."

"Never?" you echoed.

"It's not a good idea for a Mandalorian to be this vulnerable. It's risky." he informed you.

"So why now?" you asked resuming your movements. "Easier to dispose of my body in the frozen wasteland if you have to use that blaster?"

"No." he sighed as his own hand dipped under the clothing at your lower back and spread out across the bare skin there. "You're worth the risk."

[richiettozier]

mal amour

Richie counted to one hundred before pushing against the fancy intercom. Passerby didn't mind his stalling, they just threw a curious glance at him, probably asking themselves why he stood immobile like that for almost two minutes straight before doing anything – he didn't even notice those looks. His eyes are too busy in reading over and over the Kaspbrak tag written elegantly besides the intercom's button.

“Yes?” answered the robotic voice of a woman, and something from his chest fell into the bottom of his stomach. Romantically, his heart. Truthfully, he'd say just bile.

Richie cleared his throat, “Pizza man!” he half–joked. He hoped that she would let him enter with that blatant excuse, but he didn't feel so lucky so he didn't expect anything more of a click and the deaf sound of the silent intercom.

“We never order pizza.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I was kidding, obviously.” Richie sighed and tapped once against the wall of the apartment building, also leaning to get closer to the device. He was tired from the trip from Los Angeles to here in New York, so he didn't want to raise his voice. He was lacking of sleep, but it wasn't because of the flight he took in the middle of the night. “I am a... friend of Eddie? I believe he lives here. You know, it's his name on the intercom.”

“A friend of my Eddie?” she seemed to gasp. Richie didn't like the sound she was making, the incredulity he was hearing from the metallic noises coming out the device.

“That's what I said.”

“And what you are called?”

The fuck. “Eddie's mom–” he bristled, stopping himself. He glanced down at his bags abandoned by his feet, and grudgingly he decided that he shouldn't make mom's jokes right now, if he didn't wish to go sleep under a bridge tonight – not that he would sleep in any other place, but it was surely more uncomfortable than a couch. “I mean, Eddie calls me Richie, sometimes Rich, and when he's particularly mad at me he even calls me Richard. But actually, everyone calls me Richie, because that's my name. It's a...” he gulped, “A pleasure. Or it would be, if we weren't talking through an intercom.”

The intercom clicked, in the end, and the silence Richie was expecting finally arrived. He leaned his forehead against the cold marble of the building door's edge and closed his stinging eyes, shunning them from the midday New York sun. Shit. He grabbed his two bags and threw them over his shoulders – half himself wanted to go, just go away, because evidently he wasn't welcomed between the lovebirds; but the other half wanted to ring the intercom again and again, until Eddie himself, obviously annoyed, jumped down the stairs to kick him away from there.

The latter seemed to be the best of the two options. At least Richie would see him, angry and alive, before going fuck himself. His finger stopped mid hair, though, when a long bip came from the building's door, signaling that someone – Richie guessed Eddie, at this point – finally fucking let him enter.

Richie didn't know which floor Eddie's apartment was, so he chose to walk up the stairs instead of use the elevator – a grave mistake, but necessary. He started with a quick step regardless of the tiredness he was feeling in his very bones, but just after a single flight of stairs he already was wheezing. “Thank the fucking God,” he huffed, when he reached the third floor and there was Eddie waiting for him in front of the door of his apartment.

Eddie was clearly looking at the elevator, expecting him to come out of it, that was why he almost jumped when he heard his heavy steps stumbling on the stairs. “Why the fuck you didn't use the elevator, Rich?” It was Eddie's greeting, and Richie almost cried hearing it. “I think I never used the stairs in three years, maybe more.”

“I didn't know where your apartment was, dickwad.” Richie inhaled deeply when he arrived in front of Eddie, and he felt his fingers twitch around the straps of his bags. He tightened his grip, “Hey, Eds.”

Eddie's expression melted, and dimples appeared at the sides of his mouth as he smiled and walked towards him, with warm eyes and open arms. “You fucker.” Eddie hugged him, patting his shoulders. Richie's arms almost circled his waist in the hug, but then he decided to just pat his back the same way. He felt eyes looking through him, but Richie tried not to look up and see who the stare belonged to. He had some ideas, though. “What are you doing here? Are you on tour? You didn't tell you were about to start one so soon.”

Eddie ended the hug, and Richie finally felt enough himself to take a good look at him without feeling jelly legs. He was in a suit, so he must have come back from whatever office he was working in to have lunch – with his wife – and he was so good looking that Richie thought it to be very unfair. He tried not to think much about his own state, worse than he was even before getting up the plane, and he wasn't decent then either. “Well, uh,” Richie sniffed, “No, I'm not on tour. I am still in that sabbatical time, or whatever Steve called my doing absolutely nothing.”

Eddie ushered him inside, and only then Richie forced himself not to look at his ass and stare straight ahead. There is no one, no woman watching at him with a frown, no plus–sized wife sending daggers with her eyes. Only Eddie, and the terrible smell of disinfectant lingering in the too white and aseptic apartment.

“Want a drink?” asked Eddie, gesturing at him to go sit on the couch.

“The strongest you have.” Richie knew that he probably just had, like, lame wine, but he was not going to complain, as he sat on the strangely comfortable cushions of the couch, throwing his bags on the floor without much care.

Eddie put a plain glass of water on the coffee table in front of him. Richie didn't even felt surprised. He should have expected it. Had he really married his fucking mother? “I just have water,” Eddie said, defensively.

“I can see that. It's fine,” Richie waved a hand, “So.”

“So.” Eddie sat next to him, closer than expected, but still too far. “Not that I'm not happy to see you, don't get me wrong here, man. But...” Eddie's warm eyes fell on his bags on the floor, “You should have, you know, gone to the hotel before coming here. So you didn't have to bring your things around the city.”

Richie shrugged, “Haven't booked a room.”

Eddie blinked, then sighed. His eyebrows were scrunched in an adorable frown, “I don't know why, but I'm not surprised.”

“I just, got on a plan and came here, you know? Without much thought. I–” Richie lowered his voice and leaned towards him, fidgeting slightly with his own fingers. He didn't want to look around and see if his wife was eavesdropping their conversation, so he just... let it all out. Who fucking cared. “I wanted to see you.”

Make sure you're still breathing, make sure your chest isn't pierced through, make sure that you're not bleeding on the sewers' dirty floor.

Eddie looked contrite, “Rich–”

“Just for a couple of days? I just need to, to stay with you for a couple of days, not much more. Is it too much to ask? You know, this couch is the most confortable couch my ass has ever put his glorious form on, I'm serious!” Eddie laughed, and Richie took it as a victory, “I wouldn't invite myself if I really didn't need it. I really, really need you. Er, I mean, it. Oh, fuck, alright, you! I need you!”

Eddie lowered his eyes, pointing them on the floor. Richie felt the silence stretching for almost thirty seconds before feeling a bubble of idiotic chatter raising from his throat, but he didn't have the time to splutter out a joke – he just wanted Eddie to laugh, after all – because a snort came out of Eddie's nose, “Rich, you idiot, you can stay as long as you want. No one will kick you out of here.” Eddie's mouth clicked shut, as if he said something he shouldn't, something unforgiving. But at the same time, the determination into his big eyes was saying that he wouldn't change his mind no matter what. “But you really have to sleep on the couch, I have no spare room.”

“Damn, Spaghetti boy, such a luxurious apartment and you didn't even have a spare room? You are the worst rich man I've ever met.”

“Shut up and fuck you.” Eddie shoved him, cackling with a tense laugh that Richie didn't really like, but it was better than nothing, he guessed. “Well, I think introductions are in order, considering that you have to stay here for a while.” he sighed, passing a nervous hand through his neatly hair, ruffling it. Richie's fingers twitched. He felt a pang of guilt for causing Eddie's discomfort, and for thinking of how he longed to do the same with his own hand. When he got up, Richie followed him, “I will take some time off from work, so we can... talk, yeah?”

“You don't need to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. You need me, you said.” Eddie threw him a glance through his long lashes, “And you look like shit, Richie. You look like you went to hell and back.”

I did, Richie thought. He desperately tried to come up with a joke, but all the things roaming into his mind in that moment weren't really funny. So he shrugged, “Yeah, the flight killed me.”

“Later we can go eat something,” Eddie was saying, as he walked into a room that Richie thought to be the kitchen, but it was so clean and neat that maybe he put his feet into an exhibition of furniture without noticing it. “We can talk... freely with a slice of pizza in front of us, how about that?”

“That sounds very good, if you add some ice cream right after.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am now?” Eddie snorted. One that doesn't order pizza anymore, Richie almost said, but the words got stuck in his throat at the sight of the woman he found sitting by an island, cleaning the already shiny marble of the furniture.

That woman was... was Eddie's mother. “I'm having a dé–jà vu.” choked out Richie, leaning against the doorframe, passing a hand on his forehead. “Mrs. K?!”

Eddie hissed, cursed and elbowed him in the ribs.

The woman was huge. Usually there wouldn't be anything wrong about this, but the fucked up similarities to Eddie's mother were making the impact way too traumatizing – Richie would say that only the straight, blonde mid long hair falling over her broad shoulders is the real difference that convinced him that she was not really the late Mrs. Kaspbrak.

“Richie, she's my wife, Myra.” Eddie was saying, ignoring the tumultuous whirlwind fucking Richie's mind. Well, Richie knew, from Eddie's words and confessions back in Derry, that he didn't get over the shadow of his mother, that he completely forgot fighting against her abuses when they were teenagers, but – Richie didn't think it was that bad. Jesus. “Myra, this is Richie, one of my childhood friends. I told you about them, you remember?”

“Yes, you did.” she snarled, “They caused you that scar! And you still have contact with them? You bring them here, in our house? They are dangerous! They will cause you harm, dear!” she said, her light eyebrows knitted together in a worried expression that twisted in rage when her eyes fell on Richie.

Richie, as Eddie just ignored her words as if he'd heard them so many times that they have no meaning anymore to him, grimaced slightly though at her outburst. He felt bad, the lingering uneasiness he had in his bones and insides since they all left Derry spiked up suddenly like an old burn sliding against a hot surface again. He eyed at the silver scar on Eddie's cheek, almost invisible but definitely still there. That scar wasn't Richie's fault, even if guilt squeezed his insides nonetheless, even if he always claimed to love him and then he left him alone right when that scar was made; still it could have been so much worse not much later, and at in that occasion it would have been all his fault.

“I'm wounded,” Richie said, pressing a hand against his chest, “Eddie talked so well about you, Mrs. K, I can't believe he didn't do the same to you!”

She narrowed her eyes even more, and Eddie tugged at his shirtsleeve. “Rich, drop it.”

Richie did. He didn't like the tight lines around his eyes, making him older – still hot, but older. More tired. It was the same expression he wore at sixteen every night Richie had found him in front of his front door, with a backpack and a beg on his lips. God, Eddie didn't deserve this shit again.

Later that day, after a hurried lunch with a slice of pizza – Eddie couldn't take immediately time off, so their talk had been delayed – and a more tense too early dinner with Eddie's wife, Eddie went to talk with his boss on the phone, demanding a vacancy for family matters. He made him rest on the couch, gave him a blanket even if there was a fucking terrible heat outside, while he disappeared in what it should have been his and his wife's bedroom.

His wife was with him, and Richie immediately heard when Eddie stopped talking to his boss and started arguing with her. He didn't catch all of their words, but then she shouted something like, “Is it his fault that you are treating me like this for weeks, Eddie?”, and really, call him a son of a bitch, but he really didn't care that they are at loggerheads because of him. He would gladly take the blame – the merit – of Eddie's blown up marriage. And actually, hearing Eddie's voice coming angry and skittish, screaming that “Richie needs me, I am his best friend!” and groaning when she cried and said to him with a teared up voice “and I am your wife!” from the other side of the apartment was easing his nerves, lulling him into a sleep that for weeks wasn't coming to him at all.

❀  read the rest on ao3!

[kyoonqs]

iluso amor ; third part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 9.2 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21​ @mangobaek​ @suhotly​ @pororodks​ @bbhbae​ @blahblahblah-boo @leewalberg​ @byunsbobobu​ @endzii23​ @taeilpathic​

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

When Cora left the trailer in that afternoon, she bumped into a young woman with shiny golden skin, dark hair, and a very pretty, contagious rectangular smile. She recognized her as Talia, she was a member of the group that performed acrobatic skills using various elements from ribbons to hoops and balls. From the moment she saw her, Cora could read how transparent she was and dared to say that she was surely the sweetest young woman in the whole circus.

The girl introduced herself and without losing her smile she brushed her hair behind her shoulders. Cora returned the greeting with a cordial smile of her own, as she caught sight of  another woman approaching. The woman, dressed in black baggy pants and an oversized shirt came up and introduced herself as Ramona. Cora instantly recognized her as one of the women who had entered the arena on the back of one of the horses. Her casual clothes made Cora feel overdressed. She'd wanted to look good on her first day at the box office; for this she had put on an ivory silk blouse with black leggings instead of the jeans and the outlet shirt that Baekhyun had insisted on buying her in a shop window they had passed before settling in Fraga.

“Cora is Baekhyun's girlfriend, she joined us in Monzón.” Said Talia, who seemed increasingly happy with the news.

“I already heard the news. How lucky you are. Man doesn’t have a single particle of waste in his body.” Ramona replied.

Cora opened her mouth to tell them that she was just showing up for work, that she was definitely not his girlfriend but she snapped it shut when Ramona interrupted her with: “Algeria is going to have a fit when she gets back.”

“Actually... I applied for this job because of the vacancy, I didn't know Baekhyun before and I don't think he's interested in me either.” Cora felt embarrassed. She didn't want these girls to get a bad impression of either her or Baekhyun in the first conversation.

“Vacancy? The positions were filled by the time flyers were posted and besides we only needed male performers. Are you sure he has no interest in you?” Talia looked in bewilderment to Ramona, who only shrugged her shoulders with an apology that she had to leave.

Cora was going to investigate a little more, considering the girl's words had given her a lot to think about but she was in a hurry to get to the box office in time.

“I guess I’d better go. It was nice meeting you.” She waved goodbye and headed toward the locker trailer, mentally correcting herself that the place was to be called “The Red Wagon” shortly before. Baekhyun had told her the circus lockers were always called that, no matter the color.

Despite its name, the locker was pale in color. Dotted with a handful of colored stars, it showcased a hanging blackboard with prices according to age and number of family members.

In contrast to the cheerful exterior, the interior was dull and cluttered. A battered steel desk sat in front of a small sofa piled high with stacks of newspapers. There were mismatched chairs, an old filing cabinet, and a radio. Baekhyun was sitting behind the desk, with a calculator in one hand and a clipboard in the other. A single glance at his stormy face told Cora that Baekhyun hadn't had a good day so far.

Baekhyun stood up and gestured for her to follow him, leading her to the window at the side of the trailer to explain the procedure in a soft voice. It was very simple and Cora learned it immediately.

“I'll check every penny and make sure you don't lose sight of the fundraiser for a minute. The circus is on the brink of ruin, we cannot afford to lose money.”

“Of course I won't. I’m not stupid.” She held her breath, feeling that he would deny it, but Baekhyun concentrated on unlocking the hinge on the window. He accompanied her while she dispatched the first clients to make sure she was doing it right, and when he saw that she had no problems, he announced he was leaving.

“Are you going to the caravan?” she asked.

“I'll go when I have to get dressed. Why?”

“I left it somewhat scrambled.” She had to get back to the trailer before he saw the mess. When she started cleaning, she should have saved the cabinets for last, but wanting to scrub thoroughly, she had emptied the shelves to clean them first. The cabinets were clean now, but she hadn't had the time to put everything back and as a result, there wasn't a single surface in the trailer that wasn't occupied by something: clothing, tools, or an alarming pile of whips.

“I swear I’ll pick up everything as soon as I finish here, don’t worry if things are out of place.” Cora said hastily. 

Baekhyun simply nodded, leaving her alone. 

The next few hours passed without incident. Cora liked chatting with people looking to buy tickets and many of the circus employees made excuses to stop by and satisfy their curiosity about her –she guessed they were curious after the information Talia had given her, that they had all assumed she was there for other reasons, very dissociated from work–. 

She recognized some of the men tending the stalls: clowns and several members of a group that performed equestrian numbers. She couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the girls were hiding their jealousy over the rumor floating around that she had managed to “catch” Byun Baekhyun. She appreciated the covert gesture. It gave her a glimmer of hope. Maybe things would work out after all.

Only after the second performance had begun was Cora able to leave the box office to watch Baekhyun perform. She hoped that watching the show again would dilute the shock she'd experienced the night before but she found his performance even more impressive. Where had he learned to do these things?

It wasn’t until the performance ended that Cora recalled the re-ordering she had yet to take care of back at the caravan. She rushed back to the living accommodations and was preparing to open the door when Talia called out to her.

“Come on Cora, I want to show you something.” She closed the trailer door quickly, before Talia could see the mess inside. The young woman took her arm and led her through the line of caravans. To the left she could see the emcee talking to Baekhyun as the workers stacked bleachers.

They rounded the last caravan, and Cora gasped in surprise to see many of the performers, still in performance clothing, around a folding table with a rectangular cake on top. Laia, the girl she had met before, was near the cake, along with Ramona, Fionn –if she remembered her name correctly– and her group of aerialists, various clowns and many other employees she had encountered.

Grinning widely, the emcee pushed Baekhyun forward and Talia raised her hands like a conductor. “Attention everyone, let’s all welcome Cora!” She was speechless.  These people hardly knew her but here they were, extending a friendly hand to her. After spending months away from her family –not to complain of the wonderful travels– she took pleasure in the intimacy of this moment. At this impromptu gathering of future friends, she felt as if her family were welcoming her at the airport, with bright smiles and cheeks numb with happiness. Cora weighed the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

“Thank you. The cake looks delicious. I bet everyone wants a slice.” Cora glanced at Baekhyun, who had a lopsided smile on his face, surely trying to hide it. Even if they had only spent the last 24 hours together, she was beginning to grow familiar with his expressions. 

Cheeks burning –somewhat embarrassed– Cora walked up to the folding table, grabbed a knife, and began to slice the cake into neat squares. Someone ordered one of the men to turn the radio dial to a happy station. After all, what was a celebration without dance? 

When Cora had distributed the last of her cake, she watched as a tall boy with dark hair and round, shiny eyes like coins approached Talia. He looked hesitant but still held out his hand and she took it kindly. Guiding her to the center of an improvised dance floor, he then took her by the hips. Both of them mirrored a smile that could only have one explanation and Cora imagined how nice it would be nice to have company like that. In that moment, she thought of how Baekhyun had stroked her cheek the night before and turned to look for him, feeling disappointed when she found no sign of him.

For the next several hours, while the circus was being dismantled for the next town, Cora set about putting everything back into the cabinets. She was filled with a sense of despair that left her hardly able to stand upright but she kept working nonetheless.

The leggings she was wearing were completely dirty and the blouse was sticking to her skin but she didn't care. The little impromptu party and cake had been a small blessing to her but the fact that Baekhyun left the place sooner than she would have thought possible gave her the impression that all the hope she was gathering would only bring her a headache in the future. And she hoped it was just like that.

When Baekhyun entered the caravan shortly after midnight it still looked as messy as when Cora had first arrived. In the morning he’d found out that the circus was supposed to pay more taxes than expected. Afterwards he’d found out his boss would be back soon and with it the idea of receiving more tasks than he already had didn’t sit well and finally... he hadn't been able to get Cora out of his head. And it frightened him to such an extent that he had transformed the unfamiliar feeling into anger.

Although Cora had cleaned and organized the cupboards, she hadn't had the time or energy to do anything else. He rested his hands on his hips and examined the dirty furniture, the dusty tabletop, and the remnants of the cake the artists had insisted she take.

“I thought you were going to clean this up but I see that it’s still just as dirty.”

“The closets are clean. And I washed everything in the sink.” She said through clenched teeth, indifferently.

“Who cares about closets? Don't you know how to do anything right? You don't know anything about real life, do you, Cora? You're here for work, not to get thrown from one place to another for free. From now on, try to think of others, not just yourself.”

Cora's eyes stung as she tried not to cry. Without thinking, she picked up the cake with one hand and tossed it at him. He spread his hands automatically to stop her from throwing it at him, but it wasn't fast enough. The cake hit him on the shoulder and fell apart into a thousand pieces. She watched as the mess, bits of cake and icing flew everywhere. A sticky white substance splattered on Baekhyun's hair, eyebrows, and even eyelashes. Chunks of chocolate that had stuck to his jaw fell onto the shoulder of his shirt. Cora's nonchalance disappeared when she saw him turn red. He was going to kill her. He tried to wipe his eyes as he moved toward her. Cora got out of his way and, taking advantage of Baekhyun's temporary blindness, ran out the door.

She looked around frantically, searching for a safe place to hide. The circus had been dismantled. The smaller tents were closed and most of the trucks had left. She tripped over a bush and ended up taking refuge in a narrow space between two vans. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. What had she done? Had she completely lost her sanity? What if the emcee's introduction wasn't just about a lack of rationality and psychological logic? Could it be that the man's attractiveness had robbed her of her sanity so much that her heart already belonged to him? Was she going to go crazy because of love?

She hated arguing, irrespective of the person and the reason they might have, Cora had never been one to lose her temper so easily. She knew how to listen carefully. She thought before giving an answer and only if it suited her did she open her mouth. But at that moment she had acted with her heart. 

Cora hugged herself, repeating that she was a fool for having too white a heart, for allowing herself to give so many opportunities to people who had rejected her in the first instance, and above all for believing that she had the ability to make a difference in their lives.

She winced at the sound of a man's voice and slid deeper into the shadows, crashing into something solid and human. An alarm went off in her head. She turned around, unable to bear it any longer. Turning, she found a warm fortress behind her and knew she had found a sanctuary. Then she felt something rough under her cheek. The events, the fear, the exhaustion and all the –distressing– changes in her life over the past two days overwhelmed her and she burst into tears.

Baekhyun's hand was surprisingly soft as he took her chin, forcing her to face him. Cora looked up at him. Still stained with cake and icing sugar, he looked fierce and magnificent. She realized that she feared Baekhyun in another way, one that she did not fully understand, she only knew that it was something that went beyond physical threat. It was more than that. Somehow she felt that he could damage her soul.

Cora had reached the limits of her endurance. There had been too many changes, too many conflicts, and she didn't feel like fighting anymore. 

“I suppose now you want to threaten me with something horrible.”

“Don't you think you deserve it? Only children throw things, not adults.”

“You’re right, of course.” She brushed her hair away from her face with a shaking hand.

“What is this about? Humiliation? I've had enough for tonight. Limits? I've had enough too. Pressure? No, that won’t work, I'm too numb to feel it” she paused, hesitating. “I'm afraid you'll have to resort to something else.”

As he looked at her, she seemed so unhappy that something went soft inside Baekhyun. He brought his lips to hers, brushing against them but then he remembered that he shouldn't, so he turned away again. The sugar that hadn’t been cleaned with his sleeve had mixed with the salty liquid of her tears.

He knew that Cora was afraid of him –he had made sure of it– and yet he still couldn't believe that she had had the courage to throw the cake at him. He felt her tremble under his hands. Cora had shown her claws tonight but her eyes showed only despair. Did she know that her face reflected every one of her feelings? He wondered how many things had happened. Who was responsible for making her want to flee each time. 

As he watched her, he had to restrain the sudden urge to pick her up and carry her back to the trailer, where he would lay her on the bed and find the answers to all the questions he was beginning to ask. What would her hair look like down and spread out on the pillow? He wanted to see her naked on the wrinkled sheets, to see the paleness of her skin against his, he wanted to soak up her essence and feel her touch.

The day before, he had told himself that she wasn’t the type of woman he would sleep with, much less be in a relationship with, but he also knew it was a matter of time. He couldn't touch her until he was sure she understood how things would be between them. And by then, there was a good chance that Cora would grab her suitcase and run away.

He took her by the arm and led her to the trailer. For a moment, she resisted and then she followed resignedly. 

“I'm really starting to hate you,” she said weakly, her words almost inaudible. Baekhyun was surprised to find those very words hurt him, especially when that was what he wanted from her. Cora wasn’t cut out for such a hard life and he had no desire to prolong this indefinitely. It was the best he could do.

“Maybe it's for the best.”

“I've never met anyone so cold and cynical.”  “Cold, Baekhyun. You're so cold.” He'd heard a lot of women say that before her. Kindhearted women. Competent and intelligent women who had deserved more than a man whose feelings were long gone before meeting them. When he was young, he had thought that a family could heal that wounded and lonely part of him. But while seeking a lasting relationship, he had hurt those kind-hearted women and proved to himself that he had no feelings to love any of them, even if he had intended to.

They reached the caravan. He passed Cora at the door and stepped inside.

“I'm going to take a shower. I'll help you clean up when I get out.” She stopped him before he reached the bathroom.

“Couldn't you have been a little more pleasant… Or at least try to enjoy my welcome party for one more hour?”

“I am what I am. I’m not pretending. I never do that. Don't get romantic ideas about me. It would just be a waste of time. I have learned to live by my rules. I try to be as honest and as fair as possible. For this reason I overlooked the fact that you threw cake at me but don’t confuse justice with feelings.”

Baekhyun entered the bathroom and closed the door. Squeezing his eyelids shut, he tried to put the play of emotions he had seen crossing Cora's face out of his mind. He had seen it all: caution, innocence, hope, and love, the last one terrifying, the prospect that he might not be as bad as he seemed.

↬ author’s note: next chapters will start to get spicier, as always, hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡ and again: thank you and i love you a lots, Oliv.

[adventuresindolls]

Meet Lexie Chapter 3: What Flying Feels Like

(Aside: I know in the story Sophie gets chocolate ice cream and this is clearly a popsicle, but it's the closest I had)

Sophie's friend did come over the next day after Sunday school, but Lexie hardly saw them. She hardly noticed anything that day. Over breakfast, Papa had announced that as a treat to make up for moving, and to forget new school anxiety, they would be going to the County Fair every day this week. Lexie hadn't heard anything said to her since then.

Fairs were thrilling. They meant rare treats and delicious smells and rows of bright booths to hop between. Sophie and Lexie had an ongoing system where they would run around as buddies between the game booths and the ones selling pretty necklaces and giving away paper fans. But when Lexie started to get overwhelmed, they would go together to the 4-H building to look at pretty dresses and pictures of flowers. It was air conditioned in there and much quieter than the rest of the fair. Sometimes Lexie would find a cool corner to sit and read the book she always carried while Sophie found a play area or other kids to talk to.

But best of all were the rides.

They usually went for one day a year. But this year was special—5 whole days of excitement! It was hard for Lexie to think about anything else all day. She read the same page 6 times, lost a Mario game badly to Sophie, and finally went for a long walk around the new neighborhood. She saw a bunch of kids outside playing in sprinklers or shooting Nerf guns at each other, all younger than her. She only got 3 blocks away before deciding it was too hot and turning around. The rest of the day was spent curled up on the couch watching her favorite magic girl anime, which the conversation at shul the day before had reminded her she liked.

She woke up way too early on Monday. By the time Papa called her for breakfast, she had finished her favorite book again and rearranged her stuffed animals. After her usual bowl of dry cereal, she put on her favorite space-themed dress and her comfiest velcro shoes and was pulling on the car door handle before Daddy even had the picnic basket closed.

Lexie had never been to these particular fairgrounds before, but they were as bright and full as she expected. The day wasn't hot yet, which was perfect for running around. They each got $5 for a snack so they didn't have to regroup until lunch.

"What about buying fair stuff?" Lexie asked.

"You can have souvenir money on Friday," Papa told her. "Otherwise you'll buy one thing today and find something better tomorrow."

They ran through the rows of stalls, stuffing Sophie's overall pockets and Lexie's narwhal purse with free pencils in every color of the rainbow and candy they definitely weren't supposed to eat yet. Lexie only had a couple chocolate kisses, but before they reached the end of the lane Sophie had eaten six.

They spent the morning looking at every single booth and spinning prize wheels until they got bored. Having pushed the absolute limit of their patience, they made it as far as 11 o'clock before heading for the games.

Lexie went straight for the ducky fishing game. They had a giant octopus as the big prize. The smiling man handed her a fishing pole and told her to go for it.

She did not immediately go for it. She thought the duck she was aiming for—the little gold one—was about three and half feet away. How hard would she have to swing to hit it without overreaching?

"Hey, are you gonna go?" The man looked a little less smiley now.

Lexie blamed him startling her for why the first time the line went flying past the entire tank. It was much closer the second time, but still plopped into the water an inch away from its goal.

"That's alright!" The man encouraged her. "Try one more time!"

"No, thanks," Lexie politely told him and dashed away before he could try to convince her. She had just remembered that she wanted to save her remaining 8 tickets for rides.

The next thing she remembered was that she hadn't heard Sophie's chatter in a long time. She would be in so much trouble if dads found her alone.

Even worse, something might happen to Sophie, who was "not the most responsible or cautious" kid.

The crowds around her seemed to double suddenly. They were mostly adults or teenagers much taller than her and she couldn't see more than three feet in any direction.

"Sophie?" She meant to call out, but it came out as barely a whisper. That happened sometimes.

Lexie ran up and down the aisles of games and all around the rides next to them. Surely her sister wouldn't be bored enough among the flashing lights and interactive booths to wander back to the ones she had no money for. She tried and failed twice more to call for Sophie, but she doubted even at her loudest she could be heard over the thousand conversations that buzzed around her.

She was about to give up and go find her fathers—who were probably listening to one of the free concerts—and enlist their help whatever the consequences (she was pretty sure by now that Sophie was being murdered or had fallen down a magically appearing manhole) when she spotted her long dark hair by a food booth in a far corner.

"Where have you been?" Lexie wanted to be angry, but instead she felt like crying.

"Right here," Sophie's voice was muffled by a bite of chocolate ice cream, "Where have YOU been?"

"You ran off! You can't do that! We have to stay together."

"I didn't run off. I stopped 'cause I wanted to play something different."

"You have to tell me that!" Lexie really wasn't about to admit that she was mostly embarrassed she hadn't made sure Sophie, who had ADHD and was known to get distracted, was with her.

"Don't yell at me!" Sophie was getting mad.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Lexie finally relented. She gave Sophie a quick hug, which was so rare for her—too much touch made her brain go staticky—that Sophie stopped arguing. "Let's go ride the rides. What's wrong?"

"I don't have any tickets left." Sophie's eyes were wide with surprise and disappointment. "I played a bunch of games, and I didn't even win anything. Can I have one of your tickets?"

Lexie looked down at her sister's tear-filled eyes and felt a sudden sense of protectiveness. She planned so Sophie didn't have to. "You can have two. But only if you tell me where you're going."

"Ok!" Sophie's face instantly brightened.

The rides were all bright colors and flashing lights and quick movements. Lexie didn't even know where to focus and let Sophie lead the way, finishing her ice cream and chattering away about how cool every ride was.

And then she saw the swings.

It had always been her dream to ride that one. It was always more pastel than neon and it looked like fun. Just like spinning on the playground swings but MORE. She had wanted to last year but got too scared at the last minute, even though Papa promised to go with her.

"Sit here and hold my purse. I'll be back." She barely glanced to make sure Sophie obeyed before skipping to wait in line. It seemed very soon that a teenager with a green mohawk took her ticket and motioned her up the metal step. Up close, the ride seemed much bigger, but no one else was hesitating to strap themselves in. Swallowing, she grabbed the chains on the closest chair and pulled herself up into it.

She was still pretty sure it was a good idea, right up until a different teenager came by and pulled the metal bar down on her lap. All of a sudden, she kind of wanted to go back to fishing for ducks. She glanced through the crowd to find Sophie, who was still on the bench and completely ignoring her, her favorite otter in one hand and the other covered in melted ice cream.

Lexie gasped and grabbed the chains with both hands at the first jerk of movement. Several people around her giggled, and she heard at least one "Oh!" of surprise. Very slowly, the ride began to spin and rise into the air. She was torn between stomach-dropping anxiety at being so high and absolute delight at all she could see. The rows of booths looked like brightly colored handkerchief squares. The people swarmed like ants—at least, she thought, there were no crowds up here. She soon lost track of Sophie. And then she could see beyond the fair, to the tiny houses of the city itself. The taller buildings downtown looked like shiny metal twigs. She forgot to be worried.

They were spinning faster. And faster. It wasn't scary up here, really, it was wonderful. It was like everything she'd always wanted to feel when she spun herself until she fell down or kicked her legs to swing as high as possible. It was impossible to describe. Like everything that was always too loud and too bright just stopped. Like there was no such thing as feeling trapped and panicked in a crowd. Like nothing existed but her and the seat and spinning. Like she could stay up here forever. She kicked her legs, making her chair wiggle.

It couldn't actually last forever, of course, and almost before she knew it they were slowing. Her stomach dropped again, this time with disappointment, and her legs nearly collapsed beneath her when she first stumbled out of the chair and through the metal gate.

She found Sophie on the same bench where she'd left her, the remainder of her ice cream staining her hands, face, and overalls, but miraculously not Elliot the Otter. Lexie briefly considered telling her to go wash up, then decided it wasn't worth it.

"Hi! I'm gonna go ride the rollercoaster!"

"Ok."

Sophie hopped up and stuffed Elliot back into her pocket. "What are you gonna ride next?"

"The swings."

"Again?" Sophie looked at her like riding the same ride twice was the weirdest thing she'd heard that day.

But Lexie couldn't help grinning at the thought of freedom and flight. "Yeah."

[xwing-baby]

Decorating The Tree (Din Djarin x Reader)

Secret Santa for @perropascal​ - Happy Christmas darling!

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: You wanted fluffy Christmas with Din and the Child, you got it babyyy! This might be the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written, I really hope you enjoy it Meg. Happy Christmas!! 

Din had never celebrated Life Day before. It was not something the Covert ever had time for, and it wasn’t celebrated as widely when he was a child. Even when it became a galaxy wide celebration, he never really participated. He was alone, why would he? 

But things had changed quite dramatically for Din since the last Life Day. He had the Child for one thing, that little womp rat kept him busier than ever. And he had you. 

You had come into the clan of two’s life quite unexpectedly, you were a family friend to Greef Karga and he insisted Din take you from one place to another, because it was ‘on the way’. You weren’t to stay for the duration of the journey but extended it a little while once you met the Child and saw how much Din would need your help. That was six months ago, now you were fully a member of the clan. Din had fallen in love with you quickly, it scared him at first but eventually he spilled his guts after a rather close shave and luckily you felt the same way. 

Din often wondered how he had got so far without you, you made everything so much easier. Like now, the two of you were cleaning kit and getting ready for a new bounty.

“When do you put your decorations up?” You asked, filling up the silence as you usually did. 

“Decorations for what?” 

“Life Day,” You said like it was the most obvious thing in the world,  “It’s next week! Did you forget?” 

“I guess I must have,” Din shrugged. It hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“How could you forget!” You exclaimed, dropping the gun you were meant to be cleaning, “Where’s your decorations? I’ll pull them up for you while you deal with the Bounty,” 

“I don’t have any,” Din said, barely looking up.

“You don’t have any? What? Not even a little tree or something?” 

Din shrugged and carried on with his task. You stopped and watched him. To be fair to Din he had a lot more pressing things to worry about than Life Day, it would be easy to forget. But the fact that he didn't even have the tiniest little tree to mark to the occasion broke your heart. 

“I guess I’ve found my task for the day then,” You announced. Din tilted his head in a question, “There’s bound to be a shop in town that sells Life Day decorations! We can decorate the ship,  I promise it’ll be tasteful. I’ll take the Kid with me too,”

“Ok,” He finally gave in, “Be careful,”

“Always,” You replied. 

You picked up the Kid, putting a satchel for everything you were going to buy on your back and the Kid in another on your side. Din was a little nervous, hovering around you whilst you got ready to go. It wasn’t very often that you left the ship alone, usually you stayed put to watch the Crest and the Kid. He couldn’t discern whether he was more worried about leaving the Crest alone or the fact that you would be out in a place he didn’t know without him. You had the Kid, who was just as protective of you as him, and you could hold your own in a fight no problem. 

You chuckled at his actions, kissed his helmet goodbye and left for the town. It was only a short walk across a green field to the quaint little town. It was hard to imagine that anyone would need to hire a bounty hunter in such a beautiful place, it hardly seemed like anything bad could ever happen here at all. 

You wandered through the town until you came to the marketplace. Just your luck, there was stalls covering the open space selling everything you could possibly need from fresh bread, long preserved meals ideal for travelling the way you and Din did. There were toys and clothes and the place was filled with smiling people. A large tree stood in the centre of the place, covered in decorations and lights and a banner hung over the gate to the rest of the town which read ‘happy life day’. The Child seemed to be enjoying himself, enjoying all the colour and sound and occasionally trying to steal treats off stalls when you stopped to look at something. 

Eventually you found a stall full of decorations. Your heart soared at the sight. The stall was covered in decorations from large reusable trees to small earrings. There were some covered in glitter, some scented ones, there was every colour under the sun. Some had little scenes inside, some sang songs when you pressed them. There were ones made of cloth, metal or wood. It was almost overwhelming. 

On the walk over you had thought about a theme. You felt it was important to show Din just what Life Day was about. You decided on a classic red and gold, but you couldn’t stop yourself from buying a few more sentimental items too. There was one that reminded you of your home planet, 

“What do you think, Kid? Want to pick some out too?” You asked the Child on your side. He nodded and grabbed up to be taken out of the sack. You obliged and pulled him out, then followed his babbled directions to the ones he wanted to pick out to. 

By the end of the day, you had a satchel full to the brim with decorations and ornaments for the Crest. You had no idea how you were going to store them on the Crest, you had been totally swept up by the excitement to worry about it. The pack was quite heavy, with the Child on your hip as well you felt like a Bantha as you trudged back home.

You returned back to the Crest just as Din was shutting the bounty in carbonite. You let him get one with his usual rituals, settling yourself down to unload the decorations you brought. Din joined you after finishing his business, settling down next to you on the hull floor.

“What’s this?” Din asked, picking up a bag that contained the small piece together with the tree you bought. You may have gone a little overboard with that particular purchase but what was life day without a proper tree.

“Seriously? Din, darling, if I didn’t know any better I would say you’ve never celebrated Life Day before,” You laughed, Din was silent and picked at the loose thread on his gloves. You were shocked, “Never?” He shrugged, your concerned face turned into a big grin. “Well I am honoured to be here for your first ever Life Day!” 

Din looked through the items, picking each object up carefully and almost child-like. You smiled at the sight. It was almost comical, such a large and foreboding man acting with such a care and wonder. 

Din was enraptured by the decorations, he wondered how such trivial items could make him so happy. They were so much more intricate than he had realised, he’d never bothered to look at them before but they were beautiful. They shone even in the lowlight of the Crest, glitter sat in the air with the dust as it fell off the decoration in his hand. He caught you staring and suddenly became a little embarrassed, putting the orbs down back into the bag and handing them back to you. 

“Are they acceptable?” You asked, teasing him a little.

“They’re okay,” Din shrugged, trying to act unbothered despite the pure joy these objects brought him. You chuckled and placed a kiss to the side of his helmet. You saw right through the act without the need to see his face at all. 

“We should get going,” Din pushed himself back up to standing. You smiled and nodded. There was always work to do.

--

As the week progressed and Life Day came closer, you were less excited and more nervous for the day to arrive. This would be the first Life Day you had spent away from your family at home, you had planned to be back by now, but time with Din was unpredictable and you had stayed a lot longer than you had planned. With everything going on with the Child and being chased by the Empire you hadn’t had much time to stop and think about it all, but now, curled up in the cockpit everything seemed to hit you. 

The mission with the Child was important, you couldn’t leave now. You couldn’t help but get homesick thinking of all the holiday traditions you had created with your family at home. Decorating the tree with your siblings, eating treats and celebrating life. You missed your mom’s baking and your dad drunken-ly telling anyone with ears about the time he met a Wookie. You even missed the inevitable arguments over who could place the star at the top of the tree. You had sent a hologram, received a few too, but nothing could replace being there in person to celebrate together.

“You alright?” Din asked, making you jump. You hadn’t heard him come in at all.

“Just a little homesick,” You sighed, wiping the tear from your cheek. Din sighed, and ran his hand over your hair soothingly. You leant into the action, closing your eyes for just a second. He let go and stepped in front of you to look at you better, you gave a weak smile and kissed his gloved hand. “Think I’m just going to take a nap,” 

“Ok,” 

It broke Din’s heart to see you upset. He watched you go, and heard the door of the tiny bedroom slide shut behind you. 

Din looked down at the box of decorations you had brought and paused. He had never celebrated Life Day, but he had seen other people do it. He could work out how this stuff went together, the attempt at least might cheer you up a little. He felt a little guilty dragging you so far from your family to help him. This was the least he could do. 

He sat down on the floor of the hull and pulled the items from the box. There was a lot more than he had expected. A little overwhelmed by the task, Din just stared at them, trying to work out what to do first. He could fix engines, had nearly rebuilt the Crest himself a few times, but decorating was not his strong suit. Din decided to start with the tree, the most important part of any life day celebration. 

The Child waddled over, instantly focusing on the shiny objects on the floor. He cooed and reached to pick one up, but it rolled away. Din couldn’t help the smile on his face as he watched the kid chase after it. Satisfied that the Child was happy and in no danger, Din returned his focus to the parts of the tree he had to construct. He had only turned away for a few minutes before the sound of shattering glass was heard and a whimper from the Child. Din shot up immediately.

“Are you hurt?” Din asked, on the Child in an instant picking him up out of the way of the broken material. Din checked the child over, he was fine, then picked up the glass and put it away. Once the hazard was gone, he put the Child back down and sat back to his original task. “Give me a hand with this, kid,” 

The tree came in pieces, four pieces of ‘trunk’ and then the branches peeled down from those. The Child tried to help, but ended up mainly just watching while Din wrestled with the thing. Eventually it was up, Din made space for it in the corner of the hull and stuck it to the floor so it wouldn’t shift during landing. Then came the decorating. You had a clear vision with the decorations, which made Din’s life a little easier. 

“Ok kid. Careful this time,” Din passed one ball to the Child carefully. The ball was massive in his little hands. Din watched with apprehension as the child waddled up to the tree, and reached out to put the decoration on the first branch he could reach. 

Din saw it coming, but from his spot he couldn’t move fast enough. The ball fell out of the child’s hands and smashed on the floor. Colour shards scattered across the hull floor once again. Din cringed. The child dropped his ears and frowned. 

“It’s alright, how about we do the next one together? She didn’t get that many we can’t break anymore, okay?” Din cleared up the large shards, dumping them in a corner before pulling out another ball. “Maybe this one can go a bit higher,” The Child picked up the next decoration, and Din picked him up to place it higher, “Careful,” 

With his free hand, Din guided the Child’s hand keeping it under the ball to catch it if it fell. The Child placed the decoration on the tree perfectly. 

“Good job buddy!” Din praised the child, who cooed in response and reached for the next item to put on the tree. At least one of us knows what to do, Din thought.

Together, Din and the Child decorated the tree. There were a few near misses with items that were a little too big for the Child’s tiny hands but eventually the tree was covered. Even in the limited light of the ship the tree looked beautiful, the decorations glowed warmth into the cold space. While he didn’t know if he had done it correctly, Din was quite proud of his creation. The Child seemed pleased too, his big eyes sparkling in the light of the tree.

Din sensed someone watching behind them, and turned to see you standing watching with glassy eyes and the biggest smile on your face that he had seen in a long time. Din smiled and put the Child done. 

“You did this all by yourself?” You gasped.

“The kid helped,” 

“I don’t know what to say!” You choked up, giving Din a tight hug. He smiled, proud he had done such a good job. “Oh my,” 

“What?” 

Din let you go and turned to see what you were looking at. The child had lifted the final decoration on to the top of the tree. He was concentrating so hard, you and Din stood very still and let him do it. Eventually the child lifted the object high enough to the top branch and it fell into the branch perfectly. The child fell down in a heap but smiled when you and Din cheered and laughed in excitement. 

“That was amazing! I’ve never seen him do that before!” You exclaimed.

“Good job buddy!” Din scooped the kid off the floor and into the crook of his arm. The child smiled up at you and Din, joy filled the hull as you huddled around the Child. All your worries slipped away in that moment, you missed your family dearly but this new one, your little clan of three, would be just as good. 

Din joined you once again when the Child was asleep. He sat and watched you put up the last of the decorations from your haul. You looked so incandescently happy, he never wanted to see you without that smile again. Once the last decoration was hung you sat down with Din and admired your work. You leant into his side, and sighed happily. Din could have sworn he had melted right then and there. 

Din had never celebrated Life Day but if it meant he got to see you so happy he would celebrate it every day of the year.

[vercopaanir]

I Trust You

The Lovely Moons, Chapter 4

Pairing: The Mandalorian x blind!Reader

Summary: On a trip for supplies, the Mandalorian accidentally hurts the feelings of his child's caretaker.

Words: 3.2k

Rating: T

Warnings: Honestly, I don’t think I have any warnings. Mild angst. Illusions to menstruation, but it’s pretty vague.

Notes: Thank you so much for everyone who reads, comments, reblogs, and likes this series! You’ve all been incredibly kind, and I appreciate your feedback. Let me know if this slow-burn has been too slow, by the way. Things are progressing (and will even more-so in the next chapter), but this is just how it’s naturally going. :X AO3

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3  + Don’t Go Far

The first time you land the Razor Crest, your hands are trembling like dead leaves shaking in the wind. The Mandalorian has showed you how to enter coordinates, which he gave to you based on a digital schematic of the planet Quanera. The landscape is fairly open, which you’re thankful for, as you don’t have to worry about landing on a sandbar or a cliff’s edge. You hold the controls steady as the ship thunders to a rumbling halt.

You hold your breath until the Mandalorian, who stands steady beside you, holding onto a latch above your head, hums, “Not bad.”

The pride you feel flushes in your cheeks, and you duck your head down, busying yourself with fussing over the small child’s robe. He’s perched in your lap, happily suckling on a necklace of an indiscernible shape. You wonder how he got it, now that you’re able to focus on something that isn’t the ship’s controls.

“Where did you get this?” you coo, brushing your thumb over the child’s cheek as he continues to nibble on the sterling silver pendant. His large, dark eyes blink owlishly at you, and it never fails to make you smile.

“Temperature’s on the cooler side. Looks overcast, too,” the Mandalorian mutters, and you feel his eyes on you even behind his helmet. “Come with me.”

Shouldering the child up in your arms, you rise from the pilot’s chair and carefully follow him out of the cockpit. He’s since turned on more lights, and though it’s still too dim to see as clearly as you’d prefer, you’re not in complete darkness. He turns down the narrow passageway to another room, and you hesitate at the threshold.

You hear the wrenched metallic sound of a locker being opened, a lot of shuffling, and then he returns and drapes a heavy cloak over your shoulders that nearly buckles your knees. The hem pools a bit on the ground, and you know that it’s his by that. And the scent.

Wobbling for a moment, his gloved hands cup your shoulders, and you reach one hand out to the beskar chest plate, grateful for the stability. Your eyes flicker along the gleam of the armor, your stomach fluttering when his hands seem to form to the top of your arms before quickly retracting.

“Should do for now,” he mutters, then turns on his heel and descends the ladder.

Blinking, you follow wordlessly, feeling lighter in spirit and physically more cumbersome at the same time. You draw the cloak around the child in your arms, protecting his ears as a cool wind blows into the hull of the ship while the hatch opens. The ramp lowers, and you bite your lip with excitement at finally being able to stretch and languish in the outdoors.

“Stay close,” the Mandalorian says sternly, and a small furrow bends your brow.

“Where else would I be?” you mutter as a reflex. Your eyes widen at the insolent edge to your voice, and the Mandalorian stares at you for a moment, seemingly just as surprised as you by your words. Where did that come from? “S-Sorry, I-”

And then, an unmistakable noise comes from his helmet: he snorts .

Your face turns completely red, and you press your face to the top of the child’s head, sinking your neck back into the cowl of the cloak. His voice is quiet and low when he speaks again. “Come on, then.”

Quanera isn’t freezing, nothing close to somewhere like the planet Hoth you’d heard was iced over, but it is cooler than all the other planets you’ve been to. You can feel it kissing your cheeks and the tips of your ears, but it doesn’t calm the drum beat of your pulse as your eyes drink up the landscape around you.

It’s so green. Green and grey, with splashes of purple and blue. You pause in your walking, kneeling down to touch one of the oily swirls of color in your vision. You feel the plump leaves, then the silky petals of a flower. It’s nothing but a watery, violet smear to you in the cloudiness of your sight, but you prick it up between two fingers, and the child in your arm coos in wonder as you pass it to him.

“What are you doing?”

The Mandalorian has stopped on the narrow dirt road, looking back at you with a curious tilt of his helmet. You grin when the child burbles in delight as you pluck another flower, this one blue.

“He likes flowers!” you say with excitement, fully sitting on your knees to shift the baby in your lap. This wasn’t just an exciting excursion for you, but it was for the baby as well. You planned on getting him something from town to help keep away his boredom, as the Mandalorian spoke of a market that sold all kinds of wares.

The child wrinkles his nose up after sniffing at the flowers, then sneezes adorably, sending a few purple petals flying up into the air.

Suddenly, the Mandalorian is hovering over both of you, and his voice is near a panic. “What’s wrong? Did he eat it? How do you know that’s not poisonous?”

You tilt your head up at his voice, raising your eyebrows. You have a small smirk on your face, unable to hide it. “No, he only sniffed it.”

The Mandalorian lifts the child from your arms, and the flowers slip from his small three fingered grip to land in the dirt. The warrior checks over the child with a fierce tenacity, and a small pinch of annoyance irks you.

“Do you think I’d really poison him?” you ask tersely, pushing yourself to stand up and dusting off your clothes. Your hands rest on your hips, feeling brave surrounded by wildflowers and overgrowth.

“Not on purpose,” huffs your employer, nearly an afterthought. He seems satisfied that once he’s checked over the child personally, finally looking towards you.

You draw in a breath, slow and steady, then let it out. You don’t recall having to tame your temper before, but for some reason, this tests your patience. Tapping your fingers at your hip, you straighten your back. “Poisonous flowers don’t have single leaflets,” you say slowly to prevent snapping. “They have three.”

The Mandalorian pauses, looking up at you in silence while the baby coos and reaches out a grabbing hand towards the ground where his flowers lay. You lean down and pluck two new ones, pressing them into the child’s fingers and pat his head.

“How do you know that?” he asks, guarded and wary.

“I read about it.”

“You can-?” He stops suddenly, his voice choking on the question.

“Yes,” you mutter, letting your arms fall. “I can read.” After a pause. “Can you?”

A heavy, strained silence hangs between you.

You step around him and continue down the dirt path, planting your feet with a little more force than necessary. The absolute chagrin in the form of a Mandalorian following behind you is akin to the clouds that hang in the sky overhead. You have no interest in appeasing him, either. You have one job, and that’s to keep the little one safe. He really thinks you would do something that would let harm come to the child?

It’s nearly an hour before your annoyance dissipates, and you let out a small sigh. The Mandalorian has matched you in stride, now walking beside you and still holding the baby in his arms like he’s afraid to let him go.

Perhaps...perhaps you were too hard on him, you think, touching the back of your neck. He was only worried about his child, after all. Could you blame him for putting his safety first? You think of your own father, so long ago, laughing as you played in dirt and ran barefoot and climbed trees. He had never seemed worried about you getting hurt, simply laughing at your foolhardy smile when you’d proudly present him with a mud pie or a shiny new river rock.

Would he still be alive if he had?

Would you be able to sleep through the night and not wear a scar on your neck if he had?

Tears clog your throat, and it’s all you can do to swallow them down.

The town you landed the Razor Crest near is a bustling, thriving community on the edge of a mineral deposit. Quanera is wealthy in its earth and soil, and it has made a name for itself as a trading post for being such a small planet. You follow silently behind the Mandalorian as he walks like a shadow through the marketplace, deeply inhaling the different scents of food, spices, and perfumes.

Weeks of being isolated on the Razor Crest gives you a hunger for the lively atmosphere. It’s different than the cantina. It’s not contained, like a pressure that builds into a headache. Instead, you find yourself listening to peoples’ conversations, peering into the different vendor stalls, and smiling at the sound of children laughing. With the renowned warrior walking ahead, you assume he’d either been here before, or it was something he saw all the time. He didn’t seem affected by anything around him, until he stepped up to a shop and turned to the side.

You blink, skidding to a stop, and he bows his head slightly at the open doors.

Oh. Oh.

You step in first, and only then the shadow of beskar follows you inside.

The shop smells antiseptic and seems chillier than the outdoor air. You shuffle next to him and listen as he speaks with the vendor about bacta kits, splints, and waterproof bandages. Your eyebrows raise with surprise, leaning closer to hear. It hadn’t occurred to you he’d need such extensive medical supplies, but now that you consider it, bounty hunting isn’t exactly for the faint of heart or the weak of body.

When your arm brushes his elbow, the child peeks around the gleaming pauldron to blink coquettishly at you. With a small hand, he offers his blue flower towards you that has lost most of its petals from how he insists on waving it about with triumph.

Smiling, you take the little bloom and tuck it in the soft fold of your dress’s neckline by your collar, and the baby coos in delight. The sound gives you the warmest feeling in your chest, and you’re suddenly struck with an intense realization that makes your face fall.

The Mandalorian has just put away his purchases in a pack slung over his shoulder when he seems to notice your disquiet. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice holding a worried edge.

“N-Nothing,” you say slowly. Your mouth suddenly feels dry, a violent red blush flaming your face. “I...I just…” The emotional peaks and valleys suddenly make sense, you think, and being around the medical supplies has only confirmed your suspicions. “I’d like to buy something here.”

“Oh.” His tone is nothing but surprise, and when you don’t elaborate, he tilts his head to the side.

“Could I have some privacy?” you whisper, ducking your gaze down. You’re grateful the vendor has moved down the counter to rearrange his stock that the Mandalorian has just emptied.

It only takes a moment for your employer to seemingly understand. “Of course,” he says with such a level politeness in his voice, you wonder at it. You expected awkwardness-as many men project on the subject-but he bows his helmet towards you with deference. “I’ll wait outside.”

You don’t move until you hear the door close, and you take a deep breath, moving down the counter to speak to the shopkeeper. Having never needed to discuss such a topic with someone before, especially a man and a stranger, you feel a little clumsy about it. Thankfully, the older, wizened voice puts you at ease. You tell yourself that this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation, being a vendor of medical supplies. It once again makes you think of Kuiil.

“I have several options,” he says, tapping his fingers in thought on the counter. “But, if you’re traveling, you might find a cycle suppression more convenient.”

Chasing after a small child and living on a rather confined ship with limited privacy has given you an appreciation for convenience. You happily pay the credits for the small implant to be injected into your bicep, which he does with no trouble and a minimal discomfort. You find it ironic how grateful you are for the slight sting when you were so nervous about the transmitter being removed from your neck before.

When you exit the shop, feeling calmer and more collected, the Mandalorian is lounging against the wall, listening intently to the child babble up at him while he waves his flower with vigor. That familiar warmth in your belly returns, and you wonder if this emotion is your body’s fleeting hormonal responses, after all.

The Mandalorian straightens up as you approach. You fold your hands in front of you like you were taught as a handmaiden, a habit hard to break. He’s looking at you, and you give him a small smile of appreciation.

“I owe you an apology,” you say after a moment of silence, looking down at your hands. “I shouldn’t have-that is, before, on the road-”

“No. I-” He stops, tweaking the child’s ear fondly, busying his fingers. “I do- you know , trust you.”

The words meant more than anything, and you take a deep breath, feeling your lip tremble. You bite it. “Don’t stop worrying after him,” you murmur, stepping closer. You lay a hand over his glove where it holds the child’s tinier one. “He’ll never doubt you care for him, even if he fusses about it.”

The helmet tilts down to look at the little green baby waving the flower up at you, or, perhaps he’s looking at your hands. Either way, you step closer. “May I hold him now?” you ask softly.

“You-” his voice is thick, but you think he may be smiling. “You don’t have to ask.”

The child offers you his flower, just as before, and you take it with a little grin, gathering him in your arms. Thinking better of it than to pair it with the one you already wear, you step even closer-and you certainly hear the way the fearsome bounty hunter sucks in a breath through his modulator-and gently tuck the flower inside the bandolier across his chest.

The baby gurgles happily at this, and you giggle, shouldering him within the confines of your cloak so he’s kept warm. “Come on, let’s try to find you a toy,” you murmur with the most conspiratorial voice, walking off into the traffic of the market. It only takes a few moments for the Mandalorian to follow dutifully behind you, just as silent as ever. That’s where he remains as you purchase a few things from various vendors.

He is ever present yet not overbearing, and you can feel his gaze as you choose clothing items to replace your threadbare dress and robe. He silently pays for the stuffed bantha with crossed eyes and lopsided horns that you pluck up for the child, and he doesn’t question you when you buy leafs of paper and pencils. When you near the food stalls, he quietly picks out various items that you comment on that smell so good your mouth waters, and he only nods when you remind him to get extra of something because the child has a tendency towards things with bones.

“We should try to leave soon. It’ll be dark before we reach the Crest if we’re not careful,” he says, his voice low as he steps close enough that his chest plate brushes your shoulder.

You were in the middle of running your hand over a spine of a book, the raised curvatures and nodules telling you it was a book on sentientology. It was unique to find a braille bound book, and you were impressed the vendor still had it. Most were collector’s items, since they could not be transferred to datapads or digitalized formats. You already knew it was too expensive for you to afford, even if you envied its future owner, and you withdrew your hand.

“Will we leave immediately?” you ask, turning your face to look up at the sound of his voice. The child was beginning to fuss in your arms, and you lean down to press your lips to his forehead. It soothes him sufficiently for the time, and he nuzzles into your warmth.

“No.” The answer is roughened, and you hear the strain of leather when he flexes his fingers at his sides.

You nod, and you leave the stall with a polite thank you to the vendor. With two full packs, you and the Mandalorian navigate your way from the marketplace, and you only become aware of the presence of his hand on your lower back to guide you when you leave the town’s bustle behind you.

Your cheeks warm, even as the air grows cooler from the sun sinking in the sky, but you just bury your face between the child’s ears and walk quietly beside the bounty hunter.

When a light mist begins to coat the air with sweet rain, that hand on your back draws the hood of the cloak up over the crown of your head, and that’s when you stop, pausing to turn your face toward him.

Immediately, his hand jerks away like he’s been burned by your very gaze.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can, he does.

“I do trust you,” the Mandalorian says, echoing his words from before, and you feel your heart stumble in its pace to quicken. The child sleeps against your chest, but he doesn't seem to notice the sudden change in rhythm. The Mandalorian shifts, his boots scuffing in the dirt against tiny stones. “With him. I’m-from before, I didn’t mean-

When your hand slips in the crook of his elbow, you’re very aware of the soft curves of muscle tensing beneath your fingers under the dark fabric of his clothing. “I know that,” you murmur, ducking your head a little, both to hide your blush and to keep the mist from the child’s sleeping face.

The Mandalorian stands in the middle of the road, dumbfounded by this gentle confession. When he doesn’t move, you glance up out of the corner of your pale eyes. “Shouldn’t we go?” you ask, squeezing his arm gently and leaning into him. You wonder what he’s thinking when he does this, loses himself in hesitancy and roots himself to the ground like an irontree.

Finally, you feel him jerk his head in a nod. “Y-Yes.”

Your footsteps sound as one as you lean into his side, keeping your eyes closed and letting him guide you back to the Razor Crest. You can’t make out much of the landscape in the watery sunset, but you listen to the sounds of evening insects singing songs and taste the petrichor rising from the surrounding fields. You don’t need to see the way back to feel surefooted, and you wonder if he knows your hand on his arm mirrors his own confession.

I trust you, too.

Tags: @lavenderl3mons​ @itzagoodthing​ @letaliabane @rzrcrst​, @yodaswrinkles​

[juliandev0rak]

More Like Sisters

Beatrice, Leila, and Ella pick out their dresses for the yule ball and spend the day together. 

a side fic to the main Hallmark Yule Series written by @leila-of-ravens

characters: Beatrice Viano, Leila Lonan, Lysander Lonan, Lachlan Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens), and Ella Sagen (of @leechobsessed)

oh and Julian Devorak (he’s here too)

words: ~3300 warnings: friends being cute notes: 2/3 of beaellaleila are unlucky in love, the remaining 1/3 wants to put clay on everyone’s faces

Life in the Lonan household is never silent. There’s always someone up making noise, or even just the creak of the walls as the house settles in the night. Though she’s had trouble sleeping with all of the noise and excitement, Beatrice finds that having so many people around has become comforting after a few days. She doesn’t know how she’s going to return to her empty, quiet apartment in Vesuvia when she has to go home.

She sits at the breakfast table across from Leila, stirring a large spoonful of sugar into her tea. Bramble sits on her lap, fast asleep despite the lively chatter of the group. Since Lysander has already left for the University, Beatrice finds herself less apt to socialize. She stares sleepily into her teacup and is thinking of grabbing another of the pastries on the platter in front of her when she notices that Leila has turned to look at her.

“Earl grey again, Beatrice?” Leila gestures to Beatrice’s tea. Beatrice blushes behind her teacup and takes a sip to stall as she thinks of a response. Since she’d met Lysander she’d taken to drinking it, even though she hadn’t loved the taste at first, but now it’s become her favorite simply because it’s his favorite.

Beatrice settles with a polite but vague response, “Yes, I quite like earl grey.” 

Leila simply gives her a knowing look and turns back to her own breakfast. Julian sits to her right, drinking a cup of coffee and leaning back in his chair, looking fully at ease. He raises an eyebrow as he watches Beatrice add yet another spoonful of sugar to her cup.

“You sure put a lot of sugar in your tea,” He laughs, and Leila playfully nudges him with her shoulder.

“Don’t be rude to our guests.”

“It was simply an observation, and I’m a guest too!” Julian protests.

“Not anymore you’re not, we live here.” Leila’s tone is light and affectionate as she leans in to kiss his cheek and Beatrice looks away to give them privacy. 

Her eyes drift to Ella and Lachlan who sit across from each other at the other end of the table, pointedly looking anywhere but at each other, just as they had the morning before. Beatrice has been worried about Ella, she’s seemed withdrawn as of late, and Beatrice has a hunch that the youngest Lonan brother is to blame. 

Ella is in dire need of some cheering up, and luckily today’s the perfect day for that. Since they’ve arrived in Umbra there’s been a packed agenda, but the only thing on the schedule today is an appointment with the tailor. It promises to be a fun experience, and then they’ll have the afternoon to themselves to just spend time with each other, something they haven't had much time for yet.

The tailor arrives shortly after breakfast and as Leila leads Beatrice and Ella down the hall to the room where the tailor has set up, she finds herself feeling a bit nervous. When Lysander had asked her to the ball she’d been overjoyed, but once she’d learned she would have to dance in front of everyone she was less than enthused. Her choice of dress seems important, given how many people will be looking at her. As if sensing her apprehension, Leila reaches out to link her arm with Beatrice’s and the three make their way into the room together. 

Leila goes first. She already has an idea in mind, and the tailor picks out a lacey white material to compliment the design. The color is beautiful, and when she shows them the fabric swatch up close Beatrice notices the lace pattern is made up of tiny white snowflakes. It’s perfect, both for the theme of the yule ball and for a tempestaria like Leila. 

“You’ll look stunning, Leila,” Beatrice says, noting how the color of the dress accentuates Leila’s dark hair and brings out her light eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” Ella smiles at Leila as she twirls in the sample dress in the mirror, testing the swishiness of the skirt. It’s the first genuine smile Beatrice has seen from Ella all day, and she’s determined to see more by the end of it. It’s Ella’s turn to go next, but as she steps up towards the mirror her smile fades.

“Do you have anything in mind?” The tailor asks as she takes Ella’s measurements. 

“No, I hadn’t thought about it.” Ella does her best to keep her tone light and polite but Beatrice can detect a hint of sadness. Though Lachlan and Ella are going to the ball together, clearly they haven’t reconciled.

“Ella, you look very pretty in blue, perhaps we should look at blue fabrics?” Beatrice suggests.

“I agree!” Leila smiles, getting up from her chair to inspect a sample of sparkly blue fabric, “What about something like this?” she holds it up for Ella to look.

“Ooh.” Ella’s smile perks up as she reaches a hand out to feel the fabric, “That’s pretty.” 

“It most certainly is,” The tailor smiles, heading across the room to their inventory of sample dresses. “I would suggest a cut like this.” She holds up a dress with a full skirt and delicate, sheer sleeves.

“You should try it on,” Leila encourages her. “That would be gorgeous on you.” 

She agrees and steps behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Leila and Beatrice turn to discuss the ball preparations, and despite her fear of public dancing Beatrice finds herself quite excited. If nothing else, she loves to plan, and though there’s not much left to do with the event only a week away, she’s eager to decorate the house tomorrow. 

They’d left the door to the room open a crack, and Beatrice startles as the door squeaks open more widely. She’s puzzled when she sees nobody at the door, but then her gaze is brought to movement at the ground to see it was just Bramble coming in. “Oh, hello Bramble, have you come to get a dress too?” Beatrice picks up her rabbit familiar, carefully placing her on her lap.

The girls are too deep in conversation to notice the youngest Lonan brother who happens to peek inside the door at the exact moment Ella steps out from behind the changing screen. Lachlan takes a surprised step back into the hallway, his eyes stuck on the exposed skin of Ella’s back, the way the dress cinches perfectly around her waist. He pulls his gaze away and hurries down the hall, fleeing the scene before anyone has the chance to notice his presence.

“I couldn’t get the zipper up all the way,” Ella says, oblivious to the drama occurring outside the door. She turns around so the tailor can help her and stands before the mirror with an excited smile. “I love this.” 

“It’ll be even prettier in blue!” Beatrice is glad to see her friend happy. Ella swishes around in the dress like Leila had, looking excited and pleased, and very pretty indeed.

Next is Beatrice’s turn, and she has no idea where to begin. The tailor takes her measurements and she wonders whether she should go for something familiar or something new, something that would take people by surprise, something to take Lysander by surprise. She tries to stop thinking of him as she discusses dress design with the tailor, her mind can’t help but wonder what he might think of her choices. 

When it’s clear Beatrice isn’t going to make a choice any time soon, Leila jumps in, “The colors of the yule ball are white, blue, and gold. If you wear something gold, we can match!” 

It’s a great idea, Beatrice loves to be on theme after all. The tailor holds up a variety of samples but none of the golds are quite right, they’re too bold, too shiny, too yellow. Finally the tailor pulls out a swatch of champagne gold, lighter and almost pink in tone compared to the other fabrics she’s looked at so far.

“Oh, Beatrice, that’s lovely on you,” Ella comments as the tailor holds the fabric up to see how it looks next to Beatrice’s face. 

It brings out the rosiness of her cheeks and the golden undertones in her hair, and she has to agree that it’s a pretty color on her. The fabric decided, they move on to the style of the dress. She wants something with a flowy skirt, but nothing so voluminous she could trip over it. Beatrice is a good dancer, but she’ll take no chances with a train or a full ball gown. 

Once the girls have finalized the details with the tailor and scheduled their fittings for a few days later, they’re left with the rest of the day to themselves. The afternoon passes quickly, spent in front of the fire, playing cards and chatting. The topics are light, mostly focused on the upcoming ball and their plans. Beatrice finds the drawing room warm and the couch comfortable and just when she thinks she might doze off on Leila’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder it’s time for dinner.  

It’s just the three of them, and though Beatrice is glad for more time spent with her friends, she misses Lysander. After dinner Leilla announces that she has a surprise for them and they follow her eagerly up the stairs. But when she leads them into a bathroom, Ella and Beatrice exchange a look of confusion. 

“Why have you brought us to the bathroom?” Ella asks as Leila reaches into her dress pocket and pulls out a vial of what looks to be green dirt.

“I thought we could use a little more pampering.” Leila reaches for a bowl stored in one of the storage cabinets.

“Do you usually carry dirt in your pocket?” Beatrice asks, watching in confusion as Leila tips the vial into the bowl and fills it with a bit of water.

“It’s clay, ” Leila laughs, dipping her finger into the bowl to stir it around. Beatrice peers over her shoulder, not quite sure what she’s expecting to happen. “Beatrice could you put your hair up?” 

“My hair?” She questions, wondering what on earth Leila’s up to. When Leila nods, Beatrice reaches into her pocket for a pencil, quickly winding her hair into a bun around it.

“It’s a clay mask, you put it on your face and wait for it to dry before you wash it off. It’s good for your skin.” Leila continues to stir the mixture until it becomes homogeneous, then she lifts her finger up and reaches towards Beatrice's face.

“How… inventive.” Beatrice struggles to find the proper word, it just looks like green mud to her. But Leila hasn’t steered her wrong yet, so she lets her friend spread the mixture on her face. It’s cold, but in a refreshing way, and she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror and stifles a laugh at the image of her face turned green. Leila finishes applying the mask and turns to Ella who is busy wrangling her hair into a manageable pile on the top of her head.

“What do we do while it sets?” Ella asks.

“We sit, and drink wine.” Leila starts to apply the mask to Ella, who winces from the cold just as Beatrice had.

“I remember where the wine is, would you like me to go get it?” Beatrice offers, already stepping out into the hall. 

“Sure!” Leila turns to look at her, half of her face green and the other her natural color. 

“Maybe bring more than one bottle,” Ella suggests, peering her head around the doorway to watch Beatrice walk down the stairs. 

Beatrice can feel the clay hardening on her face as she walks, and she thinks if she were to smile it might crack. The image reminds her of the scars she’d seen on Lysander’s hands, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. She’s never dared to ask him about the scars before, they’re peculiar but beautiful in a way, cracked like broken ceramic. She rounds the corner into the kitchen and suddenly comes face to face with the man she’d just been thinking about, busy making a cup of tea.

“Oh, good evening, Beatrice.” Lysander greets her cordially, his lips turning into a confused frown at the sight of her. “What do you have all over your face?” 

“Clay.” She responds, grateful the green mud at least hides her embarrassed blush at being caught looking this way. “It’s supposed to be good for your skin.” 

“It looks strange, but I have heard of the health benefits of clay. You’ll have to apprise me of the results.” He turns back to stirring milk into his tea with absolute focus.

“I’ll be sure to let you know how it worked.” She tries to keep her back turned to him as she grabs two bottles of wine and some glasses from the kitchen. In the few short days of her stay here she’d gotten well acquainted with the layout of the house, she already feels at home here. When she turns to leave she notices Lysander looking at her again and she quickly ducks her head.

“Will you be assisting with the yule ball preparations tomorrow?” Lysander asks, still looking at her curiously.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” Beatrice gives him a nod in goodbye and turns to leave. As soon as she’s out of sight she rushes down the hall, trying not to drop any of the glasses or bottles in her arms. She finds Leila and Ella in the drawing room and tries her best not to slam the door shut behind her.

“Beatrice? What’s wrong?” Leila must notice the slightly crazed look in her eyes. Beatrice sets the wine and glasses down on the side table and takes a deep breath to settle herself. Leila and Ella are both turned to look at her and she realizes she should probably respond. 

“I saw Lysander in the kitchen.” Beatrice sighs, plopping down between them in the middle of the couch.

“Oh no.” Leila reaches a comforting hand to Beatrice’s shoulder, “I’m sure he wouldn’t judge you for your… green-ness.” 

“It was just embarrassing.” Beatrice resists the urge to put her face into her hands, not wanting to get clay all over her long sleeves. “I’m always embarrassing around him.” 

“That’s not true! You’re brilliant around him. I’ve seen the two of you carrying on your academic discussions, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. He likes you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Ella smiles at her, reaching to grab her hand. Leila reaches over to the side table and opens a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them. 

“Are you sure?” Beatrice accepts the glass from Leila and takes a sip. “I think he sees me as a friend, perhaps, but surely nothing more.” 

“Beatrice, I know my brother better than anyone and I can tell you that for all of his intelligence, he can be a bit dense. He’s observant, but he doesn’t always see what’s in front of him. Give him time, encourage him.” Leila pats her shoulder again and takes a sip of her own wine.

“So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?” Beatrice asks, once again blushing under her clay mask.

“Dancing,” Ella says almost wistfully. The look on her face fades from happiness to sadness in an instant when she realizes what she’s said.

“Things still aren't going well with Lachlan?” Leila reaches across Beatrice to grab Ella’s other hand, the three girls now linked. 

“I-,” Ella looks as if she might cry for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and collects herself. “No, they aren’t.”

“He owes you an apology,” Beatrice says, trying to keep her voice from conveying the anger she feels at anyone who could harm her friend. While she’s angry at Lachlan, he is Leila’s brother and she feels the need to remain civil.

“He does,” Leila sighs, “He owes you more than that, he needs to make it up to you.”

“Lachlan can’t even stand to look at me,” Ella’s head droops as she stares down at her shoes. Beatrice squeezes her hand in a show of support. 

“He knows he treated you poorly, he probably feels guilty,” Beatrice frowns, “and rightfully so. You’re not the one at fault here.” 

“Ella, how do you feel about him now? Is he worth it?” Leila asks, giving her friend an encouraging smile.

“I thought I hated him for what he did, but I don't.” Ella sighs, “I could never hate him.” It’s not quite an answer, but the message comes across loud and clear- he’s worth it. 

“And Beatrice? How do you feel about Lysander?” Leila turns to look at her.

“I’m- I think I’m in love with him.” Beatrice’s voice is barely a whisper as she finishes the words, she’s admitted it to herself but not to anyone else, not directly.

“That’s wonderful, Beatrice!” Ella squeezes her hand, just as Beatrice had done.

“It doesn’t feel wonderful,” Beatrice murmurs, thinking of all the empty moments spent waiting for him to notice her, to give her some sort of sign that he might like her.

“No, it doesn’t.” Ella agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Leila puts her glass down and reaches around to give both of them a hug. Ella and Beatrice join in until they’re in an awkward sort of hug huddle. Beatrice’s cheek is pressed against Leila’s and the clay mask feels a bit unpleasant, but she doesn’t pull away. “The Lonans are a difficult bunch at times.” 

“But we love you,” Beatrice smiles, trying to ignore the cracking feel of the clay.

“And we all love you, or at least, we all will,” Leila returns the smile, finally pulling back from the hug. “It’ll all be alright soon, I can feel it.” 

“And I can feel my face peeling off.” Beatrice reaches up to touch her cheek and a patch of dry clay comes off in a flake. 

“Mine too, can we wash these masks off yet?” Ella asks, trying to avoid getting any clay in the stray piece of hair that’s escaped from her updo.

“What, you don’t want to keep the green for a while? Lachlan would definitely look at you then.” Leila laughs.

“I think I’ll pass on that,” Ella replies, and Beatrice is pleased to hear her laughing instead of wincing at the mention of him like she had earlier.

“Me too, I’ve had enough embarrassment for the day. But perhaps tomorrow I’ll turn my hair green too.” Beatrice jokes.

“I’m going to miss both of you when you go back to Vesuvia,” Leila sighs.

“Even when we’re gone, it'll still be the three of us.” Ella’s words, and her familiar smile, comfort the pang of sadness Beatrice feels at the thought of returning to Vesuvia.

“The three of us,” Beatrice echoes, “Though an ocean might separate us, we’re friends, always.” 

“Best friends,” Ella corrects her. 

“More like sisters.” Leila grins, and Beatrice agrees.

[cosmic-has-moved]

The Vamp N Wolf - Chapter 5

Link to the Ao3 version: HERE

It had only been a few minutes since the Mistress read and put away Hayden’s documents in a safe place, now all she needed to do was look for the maid mentioned in the files.

The rooms where the servants stay were at the other side of the castle in the basement, the room was reasonably big, with single beds against the wall starting from the room entrance to the bathroom. Bending down to enter the room, Alcina began examining the beds, most of her findings were only letters, snacks, books and personal toys.

Nearly giving up on the short investigation, she noticed a loose brick next to the bed on the right of the entrance. Removing said brick had confirmed her suspicions, a secret hole that had contained a syringe and a medium sized jar half-filled with what could definitely be her blood.

Grabbing the items and placing them on the bed, she examined the end of the bed. When a maid is hired, a small board with their name written is place at the end bed frame. There was a board there, but it was from the previous maid before she was used for food.

This could only mean that the maid in question was placed here during the draining process, quite sneaky of Mother Miranda.

Now the only thing the Mistress needed to do was find this maid, luckily for her it was easy. A scent of vanilla mixed with blood coming from the bathroom had been filling her nose, a scent she had made for the uniforms to help keep track of them for wolves and herself. Making her way to the bathroom and bending down, she peeked her head in before going in.

Glancing over at the shower stalls, she noticed a few strands of tied up hair in one of the stalls, bingo. Walking over to the stall and gripping the door, she tore the door open and stared down at the maiden.

The woman sat on the floor covering her mouth and trembling, it was clear that she as hiding from her. With a swift hand movement, Alcina held the maid up up the collar. The Mistress knew what all her maids looked like, this one not one of them.

“So I take it you’re the one Mother Miranda sent?” The tall Mistress asked, watching the terrified girl tremble in her grip.

Stammering out her words, the maid answered. “Ye-Yes, Madam.” She gasped in terror as her grasp she was held at got tight. “I-I was only doing what she told me to do, I swear!” She cried out loud before whimpering in silence.

Giving a slight knowing nod, Alcina dropped her. “Thought as much, but did she plan on picking you up or leave you here to stay?”

Looking down at the ground, not daring to look at the Mistress in the eyes. “She had promised to bring me back home when she next arrives here.”

A smirk formed on the pale lady’s face, “Well she was just here before, she must’ve forgotten about you.” She extended her claw and lifted the young girl’s chin, her face now filled with shock. “Or she lied to you. If that’s the case, I guess I’ll have to show you what I do to unwanted guest.”

Lifting her clawed hand up, she watched as the poor maid sat there too scared to move. “No hard feelings, sweetie.”

___

Nibbling on her thumb making sure to clean it of remaining blood, Alcina stood back as the servants took care of the body. Cassandra standing next to her, eyeing her shiny new necklace.

“Looks like Hayden finally finished it.”

Her ears perked up upon hearing that and she looked down at her daughter. “You knew about this?” She gently held the jewelry under her index finger.

Cassandra smiled and nodded. “I helped him with the flower design, he’s been stuck on it for a while because you liked a lot of flowers.” She turned her head away. “I only mentioned that it was that specific one you really loved.”

Huffing out a smile, she patted her child’s head. “I love it.”

“MOTHER!”

The two looked at the source of the distasteful screech. It was Daniela, holding up a torn up and slobber covered brown skirt. It was rather ugly.

“Look at what the mutt did to my skirt!” She shouted angrily.

…

“Let’s take that as a blessing, Daniela.” Alcina responded while holding back a giggle.

Too bad Cassandra could hold it back, she burst into laughter whilst pointing at her younger sister.

Even more angered by their reactions she growled. “This is serious!”

Calming down from her fit, the youngest replied back. “You’re right, it is. A wolf have better fashion sense than you.”

That’s when their Mother decided to let her fits of laughter out, to Daniela’s great dismay as she continued to whine.

___

It had been a few hours after the maid incident, it was easily and quickly dealt with thankfully enough.

After the clean up the daughters were called to the family room, Alcina sat on her chair and waited for them. They were quick to arrive, their expressions of worry visible.

Waiting for them to sit down on the couch, she spoke up. “I think it’s about time I tell you three what’s going on, this involves Mother Miranda and Hayden.” Getting out her cigarette holder that already had a stick in and lit it up.

The three were confused at first but still responded. Bela being the first one to. “Does it involves that conversation you had with her, about Hayden being given your blood?”

The Mistress took a puff of her smoke and exhaled. “Mother Miranda has been using Hayden for an experiment, he’s a full wolf but has my blood running through him.” Glancing at their shocked looks, she continued. “I don’t know how he’s surviving, but the thing is that she’s using him to make a vampire and wolf breed.”

Daniela butted in “But wasn’t the first experiment related to that a complete failure? Why is she doing it again?”

Alcina sighed “She wants to make an army that only obeys her, the mixed race part is most likely because she knows they’ll be more powerful. I’m against the idea for reasons, but I can’t stop it.” Taking another drag of her cigarette and blowing out the smoke. “But the main point here is that no matter what, Hayden shouldn’t be treated more than just a lab rat, he’s your brother and my son. Treat him with the same respect we give each other, understand?”

The three looked at each other, Cassandra and Bela nodding before Daniela hesitantly did so as well. “We understand, Mother.”

Putting her cigarette away and standing up off her chair, she walked over to her daughters and knelt down to hug them tight, kissing them on their foreheads. Them loudly protesting from the embarrassing motherly embrace. It would take some good scrubbing to get the lipstick off her foreheads.

___

A day had now passed and Mother Miranda had kept her words. Hayden had returned home, granted he did look drained but overall he was in one piece and that was all that mattered.

Hayden upon walking into the Dimitrescu castle was to rest in his room, Alcina had made sure he was comfy after what she assumed to be a rough night. She helped him to bed and let him fall asleep, Hayden immediately passed out upon his head hitting the pillow.

The Mistress left the room and closed the door, quietly wishing him to rest well. After that she made her way to her room, the castle needed a new servant.

It was around dinner time was when Hayden surfaced, the smell must’ve woken him up judging by the bed hair. Sadly enough for him Alcina told him to wash up before eating, which he hesitantly did.

___

The next day, it was also the day Alcina decided to let Hayden be the one to interview newcomers for work. She of course watched from afar making sure nothing went wrong, he had been doing a great job so far to the Mistress’s relief.

After the interview was done and Hayden sent them off, Alcina waited for him to come with the results. Watching him come inside and to the balcony she was on.

“So.” Alcina poured her son a glass of wine and gestured him to sit next to her. “Anyone of interest?”

Complying with her and sitting down, Hayden gave her the resumes he had picked out. “A lot of boring ones that don’t have experience, but I did find three of interest.” Picking up his drink he continued. “Claire Velvetine, Sarah Jinkins and Velma Dalph.”

Looking over at the files and pondered on who to choose, they only needed one maiden, but it was tempting to hire these. “Oh I hate these decision making moments.” Cupping her chin and huffing in slight frustration. “I suppose I’ll go with Claire Velvetine, she seems to know what she’s doing.”

Hayden agreed while sipping his drink before placing the cup down. “Figured you will, you always go for the young lookin’ ones.” He said before chuckling. Well he wasn’t wrong.

“As long as they’re legal, everything will be fine.” Alcina said before taking a sip of her drink. “That does remind me. Before moving here, do you remember your previous area of living?” Putting her glass down, the Mistress stared at him and noticed a slight change to his expression.

Hayden blinked a few times and furrowed his brows before averting his eyes away from hers, nibbling on his bottom in thought. “It’s a bit fuzzy, but I do remember being in a stone room, different from yours.” He looked up at her and tilted his head “And after that I woke up in front of you. That’s all I can remember.”

Tilting her head and cupping her chin, the Mistress began thinking “If that’s all you remember, than I won’t have to worry about questioning you.” Getting up off her chair and grabbing her cup, she continued “I may have to ask her myself.” and with that, she walked inside.

Hayden sat there visibly confused, “Question me on what?”

___

A few days have passed by now and life has been normal so far. The new maiden that had been hired has been a wonderful job and been handling the daughters without breaking a sweat, she’s definitely a keeper.

Nothing of interest has happened, besides Hayden growing more and more interested in the new Maiden. He should know by now that the Mistress is always the first one to taste the servants, but werewolves are always kinda possessive. Alcina might have competition.

___

24th of March 2019, a whole year had passed now. Alcina sat at her desk going through book on animal anatomy, she was invested in it until she heard a knock at the door.

Closing the door she called to the person to come in, it was Hayden. “What is it, Hayden?”

Walking over to her and sitting on her bed, he got out a piece of folded paper. “I did some more patrolling and noticed a few more empty underground huts, so I copied the map of the castle and drew where each hut was located.” He unfolded the paper and gave it to her.

Looking at the sketchy mess of the map, Alcina examined where he drew the huts. They were surrounding the village and castle. Letting out a huff she gave the map back to him and crossed her arms. “Sneaky bastards, I’ll have to send someone down to investigate.” Standing up off her bed, Hayden replied “I’ll investigate them, I have a good sense of the area.” He gave her a smirk “And I found them myself, so I at least gotta search them.”

Mirroring his smirk, the Mistress tilted her head. “Alright, but take one of your sisters, it’s always a good idea to have a back up.”

Nodding in understanding, he left the room. Getting up off her chair and standing at the window, Alcina sighed. “If they managed to get six huts around my castle without getting caught, I’m gonna have to prepare the kids for a break in.”

___

Now was finally the time for Alcina to do something she’s been putting off for way too long. Paperwork.

She sat there signing the paperwork, bored out of her brain. Drinking her wine and rubbing the bridge of her nose, “Why must I do this to myself?” She asked herself before finishing her red liquid goodness. The good news is that she only had sixty pieces of paper to sign, that was her only light of hope.

Gulping down her wine, she went back to work. Until there was a knock at the door, sighing at the sudden interruption. She called the person in and was happy to see that it was Claire Velvetine, her wonderful work had given the tall Mistress a bit of relief and respect towards her.

Bowing to her and going to work cleaning the office, the brunette began humming. The Maiden would hum around the Mistress after knowing that it kept her calm, Alcina enjoyed it. Calmly she continued working.

After she was done writing and putting her quill away, Alcina looked over at Claire who was cleaning bookshelf behind her. Sitting back and closing her eyes, she let the hum invade her ears.

Suddenly the humming stopped and Alcina opened her eyes to see why she stopped, the maiden had finished cleaning and was putting the last book she had dusted back in. “I am done, my lady.” Claire bowed “I’ll now be going to clean the family room.”

Seeing a chance knowing that Hayden wasn’t around and her daughters being busy, The Mistress shoot her shot. “Thank you, but may I ask where you managed to hum like that?” Resting her chin on her palm and crossing her legs in her chair, she smirked. “A lot of the servants here hum as well, but yours seem to catch my interest.”

The maiden smiled in response, “Why thank you, my lady. I started practicing when I was quite young, my little brother would often have night terrors and being in the same room with him, I would sing to him.”

Arching her brow in interest, Alcina asked. “Such responsibility for a child.” She stood up off her chair and walked closer to her, kneeling down to the young woman’s eye level and grasping her chin. The maiden blinked at her but still remained calm. “Why not come to my bed chambers tonight and give me a show?” Her ears perked upon the woman’s brown eyes glancing at her crimson lips.

Claire looked back up at her slightly wide eyed and became flustered, but she still responded. “Why I would like to, Mistress.” She gently removed Alcina’s hand from her face and smirked. “I am afraid that I prefer being taken to dinner first.” Turning around and opening the door, the maiden left.

The Mistress bit her bottom lip and covered her mouth, she had struck something she hadn’t struck before in a long time. “Oh I am definitely keeping you, Claire,” She playfully purred to herself, she would’ve been mad at the reject, but she can’t blame a lady for wanting dinner first.

Standing up straight and clearing her throat, Alcina walked out of her office and towards her room. “While I’m free I better go check that book.” She went to grab her door handle

and stopped getting a sudden wave of worry, a feeling that she couldn’t shake.

___

Instinctively she walked inside her room and looked out her window, in the far distance there was a trail of smoke coming from the tress. Right where one of the secret huts were.

Grabbing her coat and getting the other girls, Alcina ran to the location of the smoke. Praying that her children weren’t harmed. Bela and Cassandra followed behind her, both just as worried.

Running close to the location Alcina saw Hayden in his werewolf form on top of Daniela, he was covering her body from the sunlight while dragging himself up to the shade, collapsing upon getting his top half away from the sun. As the three got close and pulled them into the shade, Alcina saw pieces of shrapnel and debris into Hayden’s back as he slowly transformed back to normal, his torn clothes failing to cover his nude body.

Getting him off of Daniela and laying him down on his chest, she got a good of the damage. From the distance was an explosion hole, there must’ve been a bomb in there. Daniela was knocked out with a bloody broken nose and her left leg burnt from not being covered quick enough, overall she was still in one piece. Bela wrapped her sisters leg with a cloth and got Cassandra’s help to carry her.

Hayden’s back area was horribly burnt, Alcina gently pulled the broken pieces out of his back before picking him up with her coat but made sure not to touch his back. The Mistress looked at her injured kids and bit her bottom lip in guilt, they were fine but they’re still hurt.

After checking for more wounds, Alcina, Bela and Cassandra carried the two back to the castle. The servants were quick to get the tools needed to help them and ready their beds.

___

Daniela laid in her bed still unconscious, her leg bandaged up and resting on top of a cushion. Her mother sitting next to her bed holding a small cup of blood, sprinkling a few herbs in it before stirring it with her finger.

Her and Hayden have been asleep for about a day now, Alcina hadn’t been able to sleep yet and has been doing nothing but look over the two. Tapping her finger on the edge of the glass to get the liquid off, she perked up seeing Daniela stir awake.

“Dani?”

Cracking her eyes open and looking at her mother, Daniela sat up whilst groaning in discomfort. “Mother?” She mumbled before resting her head against the bed frame.

Smiling in relief at her daughter finally being conscious, she swiftly placed the cup on her bedside table and hugged her tight. “I am so glad you’re alright, Dani.” She said to her child as she planted kisses on her cheek.

Not having enough energy to fight back, Daniela accepted the hug before grabbing the cup of blood. “Ohhh blood drink.” She took a sip and immediately yelped in disgust. “Oh god it’s medicine blood!”

Chuckling as Alcina let go and she patted her shoulder, she thought Daniela would’ve gotten use to the blood medicine by now, but she guessed she thought wrong. She gave Daniela sometime to fully awake before asking what happened.

After finishing the drink and grimacing from the taste, Daniela suddenly darted her head to her mother, a look of concern on her face. “Wh-Where’s Hayden?” She went to get off the bed but flinched to a stop upon her leg throbbing in pain. “Ah fuck!”

Quickly putting her daughter back in the resting position, she did wonder why Daniela had grown concerned for him knowing that the two don’t get along, She smirked at the thought that her feral like daughter had finally started to like Hayden. “He’s in his room recovering.” A serious look now formed on the tall Mistress’s face. “Daniela, what happened?”

___

Dragging her feet on the snow covered ground, the redhead groaned in annoyance. “Why did I agree to this again?” She stared at Hayden who was just looking around cautiously. “What are we even doing again?”

The young man sighed, “I told you just five minutes ago that we’re going to investigate one of the underground areas.” He stopped near a weirdly shaped pile of snow and kneeled down. “You don’t have to help, just sit back while I do the work. I’m only bringing you because Mother said so.” Digging his hand through the pile and tugging on something, opening a steel door leading to an underground room.

This suddenly peaked the woman’s interest as she was the first one to enter it, to Hayden’s protest of course. “Heck yeah! A secret room!” Examining the room eagerly, she huffed disappointingly upon realizing that it was practically a modern office with a fridge, bathroom and a bed. “Oh come one!” She exclaimed loudly. “At least have a naughty magazine damn it!”

Closing the entrance after walking in and going over to her, Hayden began looking around. “I did warn you that it’ll be boring.” Walking up to the old fashioned computer and pressing a few buttons, he gestured to the bulky device. “Here, I put a game on for you. Play while I look.”

Already on the chair in front of the computer, she eagerly played whatever game he had put on for her. “Heck yeah! Prepare to die, zombies.” She cackled loudly as her baby brother looked around the small bunker. The quietness being broken by the electronic sound effects from the computer.

Hayden chuckled “Never took you for a video game person.” He asked before tearing the bed.

“When I get the chance I play, Mother isn’t a fan of modern technology and doesn’t allow things like game consoles in our home.” Daniela groaned in annoyance after getting killed in game. “Some of our victims have such devices and we play with them a bit before Mother destroys them. She can be very lame sometimes.”

Opening the fridge door and riffling through it, secretly nibbling on the edible snacks in there. “Wow that’s sad, maybe we should try to convince her.” Hayden closed the door and walked over the desk, going through the drawers. “And if that fails, I’m good at finding hidden places.”

Daniela giggled “Oh I would love to see you try to do that, she has a thing for knowing all of her castle’s room.”

“Still worth a shot.” Hayden went back to the bed and lifted it up.

Rolling her eyes, the woman replied. “Okay than.” She smiled.

It only took about an hour for Daniela to get bored of the game and groaned loudly, “Uuuuuuugh! This is boring.” Leaning her head back to stare at the ceiling, she noticed the vents and began thinking. “You think they’ll hide stuff in vents?”

Putting down the bed and dusting himself, Hayden walked over to her. “I mean I guess so.” He looked up at where she was staring and crossed his arms, the vent door was too small for him to fit in and he knew that. “You need a lift?”

Sliding off the chair and standing up, she gestured him to come closer. “Yeah, give me a lift.” She let Hayden come close to her and hop onto his shoulders, gently lifting the crate up she looked inside.

The first thing Daniela saw upon peaking her head was a small device with a beeping red light on it, “Hay-” Before she could finish herself, she got tugged down close to Hayden’s chest before hearing an ear piercing explosion.

When she opened her eyes all she could see was fur, ashy blonde fur. Her body felt tight from being squeezed closed and her left leg stinging like hell just like her nose, she could only smell her own blood.

She felt herself getting dragged, hearing a croaky distorted voice quietly calling her name. She could’ve sworn it sounded like Hayden, she couldn’t be fully sure as she lost consciousness again.

___

Daniela finished retelling what she could remember to her mother and sisters. “And I guess that’s it.” She said before eating a small piece of meat, her face frowning a bit. It wasn’t fully clear, but Alcina felt as if Daniela could’ve felt guilty about Hayden being harmed from protecting her. She didn’t need to express this as her other daughters teased her about it.

“So Hayden’s finally growing on you.” Cassandra asked with a grin before getting a pillow thrown in the face as a response.

“Well now she has too because he nearly got his whole back destroyed.” Bela added before getting a soft punch in the chest by Daniela.

“Calm down, girls.” Alcina added before speaking more. “So from what we know now, these huts have emergency bombs in them. I just hope they don’t send signals out, that’ll just be icing to the annoying cake.”

Laying down on her bed and stretching, Daniela scratched her stomach. “Eh, if they come we’ll just eat them.”

Alcina got up off the seat and sighed “Well the main thing right now is that you’re okay.” She walked over to the door. “Now rest up, I’ll go check up on Hayden.” She said before walking out of the room and closing the door, leaving the three alone.

___

Standing at the doorway of Hayden’s bedroom, Alcina watched as two of the maidens tended to Hayden’s wounds. Removing old bandages and applying the needed medicine before wrapping him back up, she was thankful that the maidens were gentle.

After they were done and packed up, one maiden left while the other, Claire, stayed. The brunette moved the young man’s head up to remove the pillow and fluffed it up before putting it back under his head. She even made sure he was in a breathable position giving that he was resting on his front, the Mistress appreciated it deeply.

Turning to the Mistress and bowing, Claire went to walk out of the room but stopped to say something. “His breathing is at a normal pace and I’ve noticed his eyelids moving a bit, He’ll most likely wake up later today.”

Alcina smiled at Claire as she left, it was now only her and Hayden. Closing the door and grabbing a chair, she sat next to the sleeping man and watched his back move from his steady breathing.

“You’ve saved one of my daughters and are left unconscious in bed again, Hayden.” She let out a soft chuckle. “It better not be a pattern, patterns like this never end good.” Stroking his hair, the Mistress began humming softly.

She continued humming for a while before slowly coming to a stop, leaning in close to his face moving his fringe out of the way, she planted her lips on his forehead. “Rest well, sweetie.” The Mistress stood up off the chair and left the room, making sure to close the door for his privacy.