#big strong protective men who are actually gentle as hell???? that's like crack to me

[hearts-hunger]

There’s just something about the way Danny is so big and strong and broad and could absolutely throw me around if he wanted but at the same time he’s such a sweet boy and his smile is so beautiful and his eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles like let me wake up next to you and then **** **** **** and make you breakfast afterwards

no vanna you're absolutely correct bc the thing that makes me so bonkers for danny is the contrast between how Big and Strong and Intimidating he is and how gentle and sweet and kind he is. the gentle giant thing he has going on makes me want to love him unconditionally and cherish him unceasingly and get down on my knees for him in the most respectful and loving way possible

[bloomara]

almost safe pt.1 | ha yoonbin

+ pairing: ha yoonbin x y/n (female)

+ word count: 1.7k

+ genre: zombieapocalypse!AU, fluff

+ warnings: violence, le killing of le zombies, some swearing

+ summary: after months of travel, you, yoonbin and your group finally arrive at a community. rumor has it, it is one of the safest in the country, but are those just rumors?

+ parts: pt.1 | pt.2 | —

+ notes: i’ve been wanting to writing a zombie!AU for the LONGEST time and i finally got around to doing it! also: i know for sure that there will be 2 parts, but after that im not sure,, it depends on how many people want more parts!

You tredge behind your group, worn leather boots silent despite the forest ground being covered in fallen branches and crunchy autumn leaves. Your calves are beginning to ache due to the steep incline.

“Y/N!” Jihoon calls back to you, “C’mon, catch up!” You cringe. His voice is startlingly loud in the cautious quiet you had fallen into since you got to the woods. The others whip towards him and shush him.

Yoonbin is behind the group as well, but still several paces ahead of you. He turns and gives you a meek smile. Despite the pulse of pain going down your leg, you return his smile. He falls behind until he’s walking next to you. His presence is familiar, calming.

“We’re almost there,” he says, taking your hands in his. “Hyunsuk says it should be just over this hill.”

You nod, relieved. Your group had been walking through this forest all day. You first left camp at the crack of dawn. The sun was just rising over the far horizon, it’s orange and gold rays threatening to spill over the edge of the world. Now, it was behind you, and you were afraid that it would set before you made it to the new community.

If there is a community at all, that is. It was, of course, only a rumor. A rumor that had been passed on from person to person for who knows how long. Realistically, it could have gone down months ago and no one would have really known it.

You were so preoccupied in your thoughts that you didn’t noticed you were on the top of the hill until you bump into Doyoung. He doesn’t care, his eyes fixed on the land below the hill.

“It’s real,” he says, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper. “It’s actually real.”

You look up and your breath leaves you. At the bottom of the hill, there was a community. From this angle, you could see dozens of buildings, with up to three storeys. You could see a large patch of green, which you could only assume was a garden. All of this was surrounded by two rows of barriers — concrete, then wire fencing. It was an impressive setup.

You were was close enough that you could see a few people walking around, so small they could have been ants.

Behind the wire fence, patrolling the entrance attached to a rough, narrow road, were armed guards. There were three from what you could see.

One of them— a man, you could tell— froze when he saw your group. Even from this distance you could see his rifle shift in his hand. Yoonbin, noticing this at the same time as you, quickly lifted his hand in the air, a signal of goodwill. A moment passed and you held your breath.

You didn’t know these people. You didn’t know what they were like. It was a stupid idea, you thought, to go into the community head-on, completely blind. You should have scouted the place first, before you made your presence known.

You curl your fingers around the bottom of Yoonbin’s black windbreaker and are just about to pull him away when the man lifts his hand in return.

The boys around you grin. They start heading down the hill towards the tall fences.

Yoonbin looks at you, amused at your hand still on him. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine” he says calmly, seeing your frown.

You chew your lip, anxiety creeping up your neck. “What if it’s not?”

He rubs your arm softly, trying to calm you down. “Then we get out of there. If anything happens, or we sense that something’s off, we leave.”

You stare up at him, eyebrows creasing. “You say that like its easy.”

His smile is gentle, but his voice is only mildly exasperated. “Y/N.” He kisses your forehead. You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “We don’t know what it’s like until we go there and find out. If we need to leave, we’ll find a way out. We always do.”

You nod into the curve of his neck, mumbling an “okay” into his jacket.

Together, you make your way down the hill.

When you get to the gate, the man from before meets you at the entrance. You’re shocked at how young he is. From up close, you can tell that he was only around your age, maybe a year or two older. You were expecting a man far older than you. For some unknown reason, the sight of someone in their youth patrolling an area with a weapon still shocked you, despite being nearly a year and a half into the apocalypse.

He approaches your group cautiously, rifle in hand. “Here for sanctuary?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Hyunsuk answered, stepping forward.

He frowns, looking your group over. You suddenly feel insecure.

You knew that your camo pants were splattered in mud and was stained in blood no matter how hard you scrubbed. Your face was probably covered in sweat and dirt and blood. You also knew that everyone else in your group looked like that, too. You probably looked like a group of frenzied children who had been living in the woods for years, away from modern civilization. In a way, you kind of were.

This boy, on the other hand, could have passed for a completely normal kid, if it weren’t for the bulletproof vest and gun in his hand. You could tell that his clothing was decently clean. The only scuffed up part of him was his combat boots, worn for months, probably, and covered in blood and mud. At least you had that in common.

But he seemed completely unfazed by your appearances, rather taking in your statures, the way you all stood with your shoulders barely touching, the way your hands rested on the handles of your weapons, ready to jump to action the second it called. The way you glanced at one another, reading one another’s expressions with ease.

You thought you saw him nod in approval. Maybe he’d been there, too— once a part of a group who had been through hell together, quite literally. Who supported and protected each other no matter what.

“Alright, then.” He gestured to the other guard. She was tall with short cropped blonde hair, a mean scar running down her throat. She eyed them suspiciously, but helped him pull the fence aside. “Come on in. I’m Junkyu, by the way. We have safety precautions we have to follow before you enter the community.”

“Like what?” Yoonbin asks.

Junkyu doesn’t answer. He leads you through the entrance. In the middle of the concrete wall is a single heavy metal door. As he approaches it, it buzzes, and he swings it open. He holds it, waiting for you to move.

Everyone is visibly hesitant. You chew your lip nervously, your hand gripping the knife strapped to your thigh. Hyunsuk strides forward, trying to look as confident as possible, and goes in first. The rest of your group follows.

As you walk through the door, you make eye contact with Junkyu. He smiles kindly.

On the other side of the wall, the sun seems to shine brighter. Maybe it was just you, but the colours looked more vibrant, and you could hear distant chatter and laughter.

A man approaches you, far older than Junkyu. “Weapons before entering.”

You look at him incredulously. “You’re taking our weapons?” You exclaim.

”Those are the rules.”

Junkyu is beside the man now. “In order to keep the citizens of our community safe, all weapons are prohibited. We’ve had too many incidents where fights break out between armed men, and you know how they always end. Nothing personal.”

“Hyunsuk?” Jihoon says. You will only follow those rules if Hyunsuk says to.

After a moment of thought, he sighs. He begins unstrapping his holster. “Their community, their rules.”

Mildly disappointed, you take off your weapons. All you had on you was your pistol and a combat knife. You handed that over. After they passed a metal detector over you, you were deemed “clean” and allowed to pass through the final gate. You waited for the others.

You felt naked and vulnerable without your weapons. You were now faced with the fear that if anything were to go wrong, you didn’t have anything on you to defend yourself. Except maybe your belt, and that was a big maybe.

And, of course, your group. You, Yoonbin, Hyunsuk, Jihoon and Doyoung. You could protect each other. It was times like this, you realized, that having strong bonds with the people around mattered the most. This eased your mind.

You watched in amusement as Yoonbin proceeded to basically empty his pockets of weapons. The semiautomatic strapped to his back came off first, then the machete on his chest. He pulled his holster off, containing his pistol, then fished his combat knife out of his boot. Finally, then came the derringer. He placed it all on the table, and stood beside you.

You hear the metal detector go off.

Jihoon smiles nervously at the young girl with the detector, who gives him an exasperated look.

“All of your weapons, please and thank you.”

“Would you believe me if I told you they put metal in my hip when I was a baby?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” She says. When Jihoon does make a move to remove whatever it is that set off the device, she stares him down. Despite being a head smaller than him, her eyes could pierce.

“Fine, it’s my belt!!” Jihoon exclaims. He lifts up his jacket to reveal a thick chain wrapped in his belt loop. “It’s literally just a belt.”

“Take it off!”

“If you want me to undress for you, you could just ask.” Jihoon flirts back.

She is clearly unimpressed. With one hard stamp of her metal-toed boots, Jihoon yelps and clutches his foot. Finally, he unwraps the chain. Turns out, the chain was very long, maybe three feet in length, and very much a weapon. He drops it in her hand.

He sheepishly shrugs at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay! I’ll give you the grand tour.” Junkyu suddenly appears at your side, gesturing outwards.

You swallow the hard lump in your throat and follow him. There was no turning back now.

[cowandcalf]

First of all, hello! I hope your Monday is tolerable with minimal fuckery and your coffee/tea is strong. I have to ask. What do you believe is the most cbs-friendly way McDanno COULD become canon? Like the actual moment the writers would make it blatantly clear to the audience that McDanno is no longer being disguised as platonic. Whether or not you believe it would/could ever happen, I am still interested in your response :}

First of all, hello back! And thank you so much for your ask. I almost keeled over reading who sent it. I only detected recently that you're DorisNancyGrey on AO3 who wrote the most wicked A/B/O stories for the guys in the fandom. You freaking rock, girl! And here you are, sending me this bomb of an ask!

I'm still kind of numb with nervous pride that you dropped this ask in my inbox. I wouldn't have minded an easier question. Such as: "Who do you like more, Steve McGarrett or Danny Williams?" You know? Life's already so damn complicated.

But I also feel seriously flattered that you're interested in my response. I kind of get the impression you handed me some holy fandom grail that everyone craves for and I may answer your question.

It's already Tuesday and the fuckery (what a freaking awesome word – ohmygod!) is tolerable. My coffee is strong, knuckles are cracked and my brain's ready to unload. I’m not really sure if my answer is the one you have hoped for. And I apologize for the length. I can’t do short :-)

Here you go.

I have flipped that switch in my imagination. CBS writers are totally willing to make McDanno canon. And I would like to add here that at the end of season nine I screamed my secret wishlist for season 10 into the void of the vast space that is Tumblr. There I said I dream about Alex o'Loughlin becoming a director with a hell of a say what's going to happen in the episodes.

And here we are at the beginning of season 10 with Alex directing the first episode, the one he wrote. (I say: Wishlist number 1, check! Wishlist number 2, check!)

Now, McDanno and how they become canon on screen:

It shows in subtle moments and the development from friends to an actual couple happens silently.

Before I dive into the scenes how it's going to be, I'd like to open up the scope of my answer a little more. I can't help it. I'll write an essay. I had to wrap my answer in an explanation that it makes sense. (But maybe it only will make sense to me...)

We all know Danny and his behavior when it gets serious date-wise, relationship-wise. I remember the time when he met Gaby for the first time. He dusted his hands together. He was visibly nervous. His attitude caught Steve's attention. He inflated his cheeks and blew air through pursed lips. He was having a hard time until he was even ready to ask Gaby out for a cup of coffee. Danny isn't relaxed and not super confident when it comes to the real deal. I dare to say he's a bit a nervous mess.

We also know Danny when he hit rock bottom with his worries about Steve. He flies to Korea, all the way to Afghanistan and he would fly to the shittiest place on earth to rescue Steve and to take him back home. In those moments Danny is mellow, soft and very understanding. His whole posture is giving off vibes of protectiveness and he supports Steve in every way. Danny wants to be close to Steve. He makes him feel safe and taken cared for. Danny never rants in those moments. Never. His love for the person (100% always Steve, it's always Steve) he came to take home is on display, vulnerable, honest and full-on.

We also know Steve. He can be a tease, cocky and a sexy bastard. He can flirt with women, get them to have a date with him. I remember Cath in the beginning. She only had to fulfill Steve's wishes. Other men would say "I miss you or I like you a lot". Steve always started his phone call with: "Hi, Cath, I need a favor…" and he always promised to take her out for dinner, lunch whatever and it really took him a long time, after taking one raincheck after the other before he finally made it happen.

We also know Steve as closed off. He doesn't show his feelings. He doesn't deal well with being attached to anyone because of his abandoned issues. A loud, mouthy and bulky Jersey cop proved him time and again how valuable Steve is and how worthy he is to be rescued and to stay by his side. Steve learns from Danny that Danny doesn't leave him.

So, furthermore, both men have to deal with health issues. They underwent a liver transplant. Steve's dealing with radiation poisoning and they get older. They are worn down from the job and from all the years serving as great cops of an elite task force

Okay, now from this perspective I see it happen in a subtle and unhurried way. And this is only scene one and without my background explanation on the feelings.

There will be moments where Steve grabs the Camaro keys from Danny's hand and lingers a few seconds more to pluck it from his fist. Or Steve grabs Danny's wrist and pries the keys from his hand, slower and more deliberate as he normally does.

There will be more peeks into each other's office with the question if the other is up for beer and steak and yeah, there's a game too. Wanna come over?

And at one point, Danny would lean back in his chair, tap his pencil against his crossed knee and stares and Steve. Really looks at him and his eyes are pensively on Steve, intense and earnest. And Steve just stares back, not tearing his gaze away and this moment lasts a few seconds. Danny heaves a sigh and nods. "Yeah, sure. I drive to my place and get changed and then I head over to you. Sure, let's have dinner and watch the game.

Steve's a bit nervous before Danny arrives. It shows in the way he pours too many chips into the bowl and half of it lands on the counter.

Danny walks into Steve's house without knocking. The TV is running and Steve grills steaks in the backyard. They watch the sea and sip at their beers in companionable silence. Both side-eye each other from time to time.

They eat in front of the TV and Danny wants to get up to fetch the Barbecue sauce. Steve jumps up and apologizes about the fact that he forgot about the sauce. Danny says he could go get it but Steve's already on his way back. He hands the bottle to Danny and gives him simultaneously the stink-eye. Danny grabbed the remote control and placed it next to him, out of reach from Steve.

Steve leans in and presses into Danny's space to take the remote control back and before he straightens up he presses a kiss to Danny's head and flops back into the cushions as if nothing had happened.

"What was that?" Danny asks tentatively with his Barbecue sauce bottle in his hand, frozen.

"What was what?" Steve asks, looking straight ahead, feet propped up. "Your team is losing, Danny."

And they would go quiet again and Danny would reach a few times into his hair to touch the spot where Steve's lips touched him so uncharacteristically gentle.

They end up doing the dishes and talking about the game and the shitty calls form the referee. Steve smiles and lets Danny rant, drying the dishes.

They grab the last beer and sit at the beach, night dark. They don't talk, they just sit. Danny gets up at one point and stretches. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares uneasy out to the dark incoming waves. He sucks his upper lip between his teeth and turns to Steve.

Steve doesn't look up. He rolls his beer bottle in his hands and furrows his brows. He clears his throat and without looking up he says: "Stay," before he goes silent again.

Danny makes a typical Danny face where he shakes his head in disbelieve and narrows his eyes as if he can't believe what he just heard.

Steve's still silent and still doesn't look up. He just darts a gaze over where Danny stands, and their eyes meet briefly. Steve leans back and takes a last gulp from the bottle. He presses his lips together and with a firm voice, he says it again. "Stay, Danny." Not looking up but with a face that shows clearly how much is at stake. Steve fakes nonchalance.

Danny crosses his arms over his chest and digs his toes into the sand. He cast his eyes over the where Steve watches the sea. "Don't make me wear a shirt with NAVY printed on it."

Steve wears that tiny, boyish sweet smile when he answers: "Okay."

He stands up and goes over where Danny waits. Danny glares at him, and Steve just smiles relaxed. They don't say a word and Steve turns to move back to the house. Danny catches up and some point Danny slips his hand into Steve's big one and Steve's fingers press down on Danny's hand.

Soft music plays and the last screenshot is two pair of shorts and two shirts carelessly tossed aside on the floor and up on the steps of the stairs.

And that’s just the beginning. That’s the turning point where Mcdanno goes from platonic to being a real couple.

Did you ask for this? I suddenly wasn’t sure anymore. Yeah, that’s my ass long answer to your ask.

I hope this gives you some idea? I could go on but I’d end up with a ton of words again. It’s already way too long. So, anyway, thank you so much again for your ask.

Mahalo *blows a kiss*

***

[viragoseries]

The One with All Three

Derek couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face watching the two women before him. He was lucky to have both of them in his life. And seeing them training, showing off the strength and grace was no doubt a huge turn on to any men but especially a wolf. To know they would do anything the could to protect him and the pack. He slowly started to notice that this was moving past training. The hits were getting more brutal and the punches were no longer being pulled. Before he got a chance to stop it he saw that darkness in Nora’s eyes and she delivered a brutal backwards elbow right to Liza’s cheek. He stood up as the blonde hit the ground hard, the other woman was still approaching though her face cold.

Derek rushed between them grabbing Nora by the shoulders forcing her to look him in the eyes, “Nor?” the sadness in his tone wasn’t enough so he shook her lightly before using his roar, “ELEANORA!”

The redhead was shaking when she finally blinked clearing her eyes, “Derek?”

Before he could say more Liza was on her feet ripping him away as much as she could, “what the hell is your problem Argent?” she seethed, the venom she felt for that name making its way into her voice.

The look of utter pain on her face as she looked at Derek broke his heart for the suddenly vulnerable woman. When he wasn’t quick enough to say anything she tore away from his remaining hand on her shoulder. Nora stormed out of the loft and down the steps.

Liza was immediately pissed off pacing the loft and cradling her cheek that was sporting a pretty nasty bruise. The emotions both currently being pumped out of Liza and the ones that trailed after Nora were making Derek’s instincts go crazy. He knew that Nora needed time to herself, he just hoped she didn’t do anything stupid. The two hunters were very different and this just highlighted it in stark details. Liza had no idea how big the chasm she opened with a simple name was.

“What was that?” she had stopped right in front of Derek he face tinged red with her rage, “I get taking it seriously but she didn’t need to do actual damage.”

Derek sighed deeply, “Are you okay?” he asked gentle fingers brushing her cheek and pulling pain out.

Liza smiled dopily up at Derek, hazel eyes meeting blue, “I guess so,” she pouted slightly.

Derek immediately turned his back to her a big sigh pushing his shoulders out as he walked towards the door. Grabbing his jacket and his keys.

“Where are you going?” Liza sounded angry again.

“I’m going to fix your fuck up,” Derek growled before looking back at her catching her self doubt written all over her face.

“I’m not the one who hit someone,” she threw her arms out with a huff of anger.

“No,” Derek agreed as he put his jacket on, “but you’re the one who went for the jugular.”

Liza immediately shrunk into herself, “is it really that bad?” and her voice suddenly made her sound like a little girl.

“We’ll be lucky if she hasn’t gotten herself thrown in the county jail for the night already,” Derek headed for the door again.

“I’ll go get her,” Liza rushed ahead of him.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Derek didn’t have time for this, “we’ll talk about it all together tomorrow.”

Liza nodded as Derek left the loft and she was alone with her thoughts. She spent most of the night worrying and a good part mad at the whole situation. At some point she fell asleep on the couch. Waking up the next morning to the loft still empty was killing her. Liza didn’t have to wait long before the loft door was thrown wide open and in walked Derek holding an unconscious Nora.

“Oh my god!” Liza rushed to his side to try to help.

“Get the door!” he barked at her and she quickly shut it behind him, “and get the shower on.”

Liza’s head was running a million miles a minute with questions but thankfully training kicked in and she moved with efficiency, “what did she take?”

“I don’t know. I found her in an alley like this,” Derek quickly got Nora under the spray not liking the blue of her lips.

Liza slowly upped the temperature of the water trying to get some heat in the freezing woman in front of her. Liza’s heart was breaking watching the slow drag of her chest rising and falling. What ever Nora had done had wreaked havoc on her body. It felt like forever before her eyelids started to flutter as she woke up. When the both seen her blue eyes trying to focus Derek and Liza both slumped to the bottom of the shower, neither caring that they were soaking at the moment.

After a moment to revel in a small victory Liza slid herself next to the other woman, “hello there beautiful,” she whispered gently brushing hair out of Nora’s face.

“Hi,” she croaked out before her hand mirrored Liza’s except she was gently pressing her fingers beside the bruise on the other woman’s cheek, “I’m sorry,” instantly tears were streaming down her face that she tried to hide in Derek’s chest.

But Liza grabbed her face in both hands forcing her to look at her, “we all know that you are strong beyond belief but, I knew what button to push and I pushed it big time,” She pressed a soft kiss to Nora’s forehead.

“I…,” Nora started but her voice cracked, she had to take a few deep breaths to steady herself, “I got lost.”

“After you left?” Liza asked quietly, making eye contact with Derek who was still silently holding Nora.

Nora shook her head more tears streaking down her face, “in your head?” Derek finally spoke.

Nora started to shiver before she could answer and then she started to rub her arms the little bit she could in Derek’s tight grip. Liza caught one of her wrists and looked down it, the inside of her arm was marked with fresh, red marks.

“I think it’s a hot chocolate kind of morning,” Liza smiled as bright as she could manage at the two people who held her heart.

“Sounds good to me,” Derek stood up slowly with the soaking wet woman in his arms, “I’ll get her bandaged up while you change.”

Liza nodded as she left, she quickly changed to dry clothes before starting the stove and getting to work. Derek walked by with Nora not long after the milk was heating. Finally she was balancing three cups of steaming hot chocolate, the smell of sugar and cinnamon making her mouth water. But it was nothing compared to what she found when she made it to the bedroom. Snuggled in the middle of the bed was a naked Derek wrapped around an equally naked Nora. Nora was snoring softly as Derek rubbed slowly up and down her spine.

Liza set the cups on the top of their dresser before sitting down on the side of the bed at Nora’s back, “we got her back?”

Derek smiled slightly, “yeah. She tried hard to resist but I can tell she was close to being gone. But we’ll just have to spoil her rotten for a bit.”

“I’m not gonna complain about that,” Liza smirked before joining them on the bed.

“Better let the pack know to stay away for the rest of the week,” Derek spoke over the redheads shoulder.

“Already on it sweetcheeks,” Derek rolled his eyes.

“She’s rubbing off on you,” he laughed.

“That’s kind of the idea,” Liza winked before snuggling in tighter.

It wasn’t long before the three were passed out, the last day more than anyone bargained for.

Meanwhile….

“Why do I have to get updates on my sister’s sex life?” Allison scrunched her nose up in disgust.

“Huh?” Scott asked from where he was looking at the book Stiles had slid across the library table.

“Oh Derizora is sexiling us all for the rest of the week,” Stiles provided.

“Who?” now Scott was even more confused.

“Derizora,” Stiles stated simply going back to his research.

“Stiles gave Derek, Nora and Liza a relationship name,” Lydia said from where she was looking at a magazine, “he thinks he’s funny.”

“I’ll have you know those ladies love that name,” Stiles was indignant.

“Yeah because it drives Derek mad,” Allison laughed.

“It is my mission in life,” Stiles muttered as the rest shook their heads.

It’s soooo long @susiesamurai #sorrynotsorry 

[castielscarma]

No Exit

The woods were never quiet but there was something in the air that made Dean's hackles rise. He pointed his ears towards the cause of his suspicion and at first, he didn't catch anything. His paws were silent on the grass as he slowly padded further into the woods. Then he caught a scent on the breeze and an involuntarily growl rose from deep within him. Humans.

Dean!

He caught the alarmed thought of Bobby, at this distance it was muted, the markings that declared it was the call of his first sentry barely noticeable. If they'd ventured this deep into his territory it meant that the sentries had been disabled.

A dull echo bloomed suddenly in his mind and he had to grind his jaws to stop the howl that was on his lips. He contemplated changing but dismissed it almost immediately. In the woods his wolf was better suited, he had claws that could dig into the soil and his eyes and ears were much sharper. He started running in a wide circle, following the scent until it became stronger but at a huge rock formation, he stopped and wrinkled his nose in confusion. The scent just vanished. As if it hadn't been there at all. Dean backtracked and sniffed the air. Nothing.

Instinct made him turn his head just as something whizzed past him. The echo of a shot and Dean was off, his heart hammering in his chest. Guns. Several echoes followed and Dean ran like his life depended on it. It probably did. His claws dug into the earth, his tail adjusting to the weight of his body. As he ran, he carefully avoided leading his pursuers to the second, hidden den where he hoped the pups were safe.

Several scents assaulted him at once and Dean glanced ahead. Shadows tried to merge with the greenery but he could smell them. More humans, more guns. Fuck them. Dean was panting, but he could run for longer. He had four legs. Pushing himself, he ran deeper into the woods, zigzagging until he couldn't hear them anymore. He sniffed the air but caught nothing.

He tried picking up on Sam, his brother but all he got was a tiny vibration. Bobby. Dean walled off his anger and fear. He had time for that later. Carefully, he made his way back again, the area was saturated with the stench of humans, aiming for a hidden entrance to the second den when he saw that the humans had found it. Not the actual den but they were too close for comfort. He knew Lisa, Pamela, Kaia, Benny, hell, all of them would give their lives to protect the cubs but in a close encounter with however the fuck was intruding, he feared they'd be on the losing end, no matter how many guns they had. He sent Benny, his lieutenant, an encouraging thought.

He would have to lure the men away from this place.

Slowly, he walked out from the dense vegetation and stopped abruptly, feigning surprise, his ears alert. He turned suddenly, growling and hoped some of them would forget what they actually knew about shifters. The soft thud of feet on the ground and excited voices told him it worked. A gun was fired but the aim had been way off. Dean saw muted lights, fuck, they had laser aims. These people meant business. Another shot and Dean disappeared.

Dean ran fast, but not too fast. He needed them to tag along. He slowly lured the men away, deeper and deeper into the woods, showing himself now and then to give them that little boost of hope that they would catch him. Soon their confident calls turned angry and frustrated. “Where'd the damn wolf go? Fucking freak.”

Another voice called out. “Man, Michael is not gonna be happy when he hears about this.” After over an hour of not seeing any traces of him, the men finally gave up.

A stranger.

A crack made his ears stand up in attention, a familiar scent, Emma, in the air but he'd already caught the scent of someone else, who wasn't pack. Another wolf. From a dense patch of bushes, a huge black wolf appeared, his blue eyes following him. The wind carried the intruder's essence to him, a metallic scent of iron hidden deep inside what was almost an overpowering note of honey. He shook his head at the odd combination.

The other scent, sharp now, made him curl his lips up in anger The scent of blood, from one of his own. Emma.

The black wolf made a gesture like it wanted Dean to follow along. Dean hesitated. He'd never seen this wolf before but the other scent made him anxious and when the strange wolf actually whined, Dean decided. He couldn't abandon his own.

When the black wolf was sure Dean followed, he picked up speed. Twigs pulled at Dean's fur but it was thick enough not to bother him. Fear clawed at him. He didn't know how Emma had been injured or why she was out of the den but he would bring her home.

The strange wolf was fast, and strong, jumping over rocks and fallen trees effortlessly. Dean was behind him, following his move jump by jump. He was agile and moved like he knew these woods, although Dean knew that was impossible.

Suddenly the black wolf jumped to the right, his hindlegs flexing as he took off from the ground. Dean didn't have time to think when he felt earth turn to air beneath him. Surprise flashed through him before he realized he was falling.

With a whine he landed on four legs, the impact reverberating through him. He blinked and looked up. He was in a huge hole. Pacing back and forth. he tried to find another way out, hoping this hole was a natural occurrence but had to give up when all he saw was dirt, thin roots, and worms.

Anger flashed through him and Dean shifted. The cold hit him at once, and although he was still winded from the run, the warmth was slowly dissipating. He was stark naked but the had something the wolf hadn't. Hands.

Dean dug his hands into the wall of earth, finding it not solid but hopefully strong enough to hold. Jumping up, he pushed his feet in, only to slide down slowly, dragging dirt with him. He tried another place but it yielded the same result. Glancing up, he saw that the black wolf was looking down at him. “Help me up!”

The wolf blurred, a light shimmering around him, and a naked man stood in front of Dean. Even in the dim light, he could see the man's blue eyes, the same as in wolf form, although the dark of his hair was richer as a human.

“I can.” The man's voice was dark and smooth. “But I won't.”

Dean frowned in surprise as the man bent down, picking something up and holding it to his ear.

“Castiel here. I got him. Sending the coordinates right now.” He put the earpiece away and calmly looked down at Dean.

Dean considered shifting back to wolf, the cold was getting to him even though his blood ran hotter than humans, but then he couldn't talk with the man above him.

“What the hell are you doing? You working with them?

Castiel just cocked his head, staring down at Dean. “I don't owe you any explanation.”

“Where's Emma?” Dean shouted. “I swear if you laid your hands on her – “

Castiel turned his back to Dean, apparently not considering him a threat at all. “I'd never hurt a child. I'm not a monster, you dog.”

Dean ignored the insult. “Fuck you are, turning on your own people. When I get out of here, I'll rip your throat out.”

Castiel faced Dean again, pointing two guns at him, one smaller than the other. “I do appreciate this talk but it's getting rather cold now, so I'll shift soon. Which do you prefer? The big kiss or gentle peck?”

Shifting in a whirl of light, Dean growled out his anger.

Castiel shrugged and aimed the bigger gun at Dean. “Big kiss it is.”

Knowing that Dean didn't really have anywhere to go, he jumped anyway. Maybe he could scare the asshole so he fell down with him. Mid-air he felt a sting in his neck.

A goddamn needle. His claws flexed as he pawed the dirt walls before tumbling back down to the bottom. The last thing he saw was the image of a naked Castiel, smiling grimly in satisfaction. Bastard. For @winchester-reload Day 23. =) https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927594/chapters/50340404 if you anna give kudos or comments, here you go!

[senseandaccountability]

The Stolen Throne in 15 minutes

I wrote this parody back in 2010 and it would be a shame if Livejournal dies with this mocking post, so have a re-post here on tumblr. I actually love Stolen Throne, but it’s not going to win a Nobel prize, that’s for damn sure.   REBEL QUEEN: *is slain *

MARIC, a Level 1 Prince: OH NOES! I can barely hold a sword and now I'm all alone on the run from the usurper! HELP! HELP!

LOGHAIN, a Level 56 Warrior, several miles away: I have a really bad feeling about this shit.

MARIC: HELP! HELP! *cracks the skull of random attacker * HELP! HELP!

LOGHAIN: Oh for fuck's sake. Come along, then.

LOGHAIN’S DAD: Like all good leaders of men in the DAO canon, I am somewhat reluctant to lead. Yet I do. I’m also quite classy if I may say so myself.

MARIC: Agreed! I dub thee, ser Loghain's Dad to a knight in my service. Now, go off and die protecting me!

LOGHAIN: What the hell?

LOGHAIN’S DAD: Son, in a very foreshadowing moment I will now ask you to put your emotions and personal desires aside and do as you must. Sure, it will seem really fucking grim but so will the rest of your life. Now off you go and protect the Prince with your life.

LOGHAIN’S DAD and EVERYONE IN CAMP: *dies protecting the Rebel Prince* --

MARIC: *suffers prettily*

LOGHAIN: I hate you so very much.

MARIC: Naaah. 　

ENEMIES: *Attack!*

MARIC: Oh noes! *falls off horse/gets stabbed/is unconscious*

LOGHAIN: Okay, I can’t really hate you. It’s like hating a puppy.

MARIC: Told ya!

WITCH OF THE WILDS: Come boys, come...give me your semen. I mean, let me babble inexplicably off-screen about secret visions of mine...

MARIC: Oh, sure!

PLOT: *thickens *

LOGHAIN and READERS: Whatever. 　 　

-- ROWAN: *dramatic entrance*

MARIC: Oh look, it’s my future Queen.

LOGHAIN: Oh look, she can actually hold her own in a fight! WELCOME! Don't ever leave!

ROWAN: I'm the Warrior Maiden of this story. But don't worry, fangirls, I won't stand in the way of slash, plot or have much of a personality. I rejoice in seeing you alive, Maric. It would be pointless to rebel without a prince after all. And you’re cute when you fall off horses.

MARIC: Did you say something? I can’t seem to focus on non-elven women. 

LOGHAIN: Oh, Maker, warrior women are so sexy. I like my women like I like my coffee,with a spoon in them hot and strong.

ROWAN: Sorry, did you say something? I can’t seem to focus on commoners.

ROMANTIC DRAMA: *is obvious * -- 　　

ORLESIANS: *are Evil and Depraved even in their own POV-chapters*

LOGHAIN: See, this is what I keep saying! --

MARIC: *is endlessly fascinated with Loghain*

LOGHAIN: *teaches Maric how to use a sword*

MARIC: You make me a man!

LOGHAIN: You make me speak in semi-long sentences and open up my glum heart!

MARIC: I fanboy you so hard, there is nothing you cannot do! Here, have a pair of too tight leather trousers, for eh, plot purposes.

LOGHAIN: Who the fuck am I again? Fandom Draco?

MARIC: What? I don't sexualize you! Perish the thought!

ROWAN: I think I'm going to go for a walk. You two... hang out.

DAO FANDOM: Oh, look I wrote this multi-chaptered fic about how Alistair falls in love with my PC R'heaigh-Leihy-inneh Cousland, who is incredibly pretty! And then this long-ass sequel about their lives after the game, isn't that just so clever and romantic? It even has some NSFW bits!

SLASHERS IN EVERY OTHER FANDOM, EVER: OH COME ON! 　

-- ROWAN & LOGHAIN: *builds a small mountain of unresolved and badly written sexual tension*

KATRIEL: Hello. I am the Plot Device of this little story.

MARIC: OH MY GOD, AN ELF! *fans self *

KATRIEL: Indeed.

MARIC: Look, guys, there was an elf in my tent! She’s very pretty!

ROWAN: Yes, yes. Sooo, Loghain, maybe we should... duel. Just a little? Get the blood pumping, the adrenaline rushing… Nothing sexual about it, just to determine who’s the best…fighter?

LOGHAIN: I thought you’d never ask.

ROWAN & LOGHAIN: *fights*

LOGHAIN: *wins* I’m so sorry I hurt you! *angsts* And so incredibly turned on by the fact that you almost beat me.

ROWAN: I know, right. Now, let’s forget about the part where we are clearly perfect for each other because I am Maric’s.

LOGHAIN: Yes, duty first.

MARIC: *shags the elf* 　　

-- MARIC: *shags the elf*

ROWAN: *angsts*

LOGHAIN: *angsts*

ROWAN: I am so stupid and ugly and not an elf.

LOGHAIN: *mutters* I think you are beautiful.

ROWAN: No! Our UST must remain heavy on the U-part! For plot purposes!

LOGHAIN: He’s too stupid to breathe and yet I am the lesser man. Oh, this will define my character in many interesting ways, I’m sure! *storms off *

MARIC: Hey, where are you going?

LOGHAIN: I’m done now. You made it through the woods and it’s been eh,years

MARIC: But how can I make it one day without you? I've been taking self-preservation lessons from Bella Swan! I need a big, strong, dominant man to heal me sexually save me!

ROWAN: For true. I can't bloody take care of his emotional neediness all alone, please stay!

LOGHAIN: *angsts*

ROWAN: *angsts*

MARIC: *emo puppy*

LOGHAIN: Fine, I'll stay.

MARIC: I love you. Here, have a fancy title.

LOGHAIN: *kneels awkwardly* I love you, too. I swear to serve you well.

MARIC, ROWAN, LILITH & DAVID GAIDER: OH ♥LOGHAIN♥! -- 　 　

BATTLES: *a plenty *

MARIC: *is dumb*

ORLESIANS: *are evil and well-informed*

ROWAN: Loghain, we must – surprise, surprise – save Maric from a certain death! Someone who I'm sure my future king doesn't sleep with has told the enemies of our plans and we are overwhelmed and Maric will die!

LOGHAIN: I am a bit busy here, being the Commander and all. If we leave them they will die.

ROWAN: Surely you have realised by now that you are the one who will make all the harsh decisions that others can't bear and end up in a turmoil of politics you don’t master and internal fighting you care nothing for? I sure as hell don't want to make this decision, it's awful and I'm one of the Pure and Good Characters. Now, please tell me you will sacrifice my dad!

LOGHAIN: Oh, this will define my character in many interesting ways, I’m sure. 

MARIC: *emo puppy* I don't deserve to be saved. If this was a fanfic I'd be crying myself to sleep, listening to music that isn't invented yet.

LOGHAIN: There, there. One of my hidden talents is that I comfort very well.

LILITH: Awww.

MARIC: I second that awww.

ROWAN: Oh, me too! Me too! Now do me! I mean, in a non-sexy friendly kind of way.

LOGHAIN: Of course. Duty first.

MARIC: *shags the elf * 　　 　 --

DEEP ROADS: *are cool*

KATRIEL: *knows a lot*

MARIC: *is not suspicious at all *

ROWAN & LOGHAIN: *headdesk*　

MARIC: Oh, and I love the not-at-all-suspicious elf, by the way.

ROWAN: Bastard.

LOGHAIN: What the hell? I've angsted over your future queen for well over hundred pages of Gaider-prose and you don't even love her. I will kill you in your sleep.

MARIC: *puppy eyes *

LOGHAIN: Fuck you. 　 --

ROWAN: *angsts*

LOGHAIN: Did I eh…mention that I comfort very well? Cause I do.

ROWAN: Comfort me! With hot, brooding sex! With gingerly sexings accompanied by our mutual tears, because we do cry an awful lot, all three of us.

LOGHAIN: I'm not the object of our mutual desire Maric.

ROWAN: Can you pretend? And glad I am to hear it!

LOGHAIN: Only if you do, too. Really?

ROWAN: Damn straight. Eh. Pun intended. Really, really.

DEEP ROADS: We bring the sexytimes like nothing else in the DAO canon! 　 -- 　

MARIC: Oh noes! Betrayal! It hurts! I love her so! She is so completely without a personality save being pretty and shady and into me! My dream girl!

LOGHAIN: Much like the PC can choose to do in the game version of our future, I am now picking the option to harden you. Everyone’s out for themselves. There you go. Harden up, bitch.

MARIC: But I’m such a gentle flower! Girls dig that.

LOGHAIN: Yes, indeed. I dig that, too, and this breaks my fucking heart. But life’s a bitch and then your mother gets raped and killed by Orlesians while you are forced to watch and you must give up the woman you love for duty and Ferelden and FOR FUCK’S SAKE, MAN, JUST GROW A SPINE SO WE CAN GET THIS SHIT DONE!

MARIC: *grows an insta-spine*

KATRIEL: Oh, crap.

MARIC: This moment defines me. *stabs her to death*

LOGHAIN: This moment defines me. *turns off emotions *

KATRIEL: I think I was informed of this plot because I wrote a really obvious good-bye letter, but whatever. I still die prettily and redeem myself in doing so while also making Loghain look extra cruel. A little something for everyone! 　

ROWAN: We are, as always, the harsh pragmatists of this story. Or well, you are a harsh pragmatist while I may or may not act out of jealousy which really doesn't put me in a better light. Regardless, my heartless yet loving soulmate, why must it hurt so?

LOGHAIN: Because life’s a bitch and then-

ROWAN: Shut up!

LOGHAIN: *dark, brooding emo puppy*

ROWAN: You are the only one who can be allowed to see me weak. Which is quite touching.

LOGHAIN: It is. I see you as my equal, which also is hot and something that ought to be more present in fanfiction. Alas, for now I shall break up with you!

ROWAN: Look, the hardening quest is fun for like, five minutes, but for the rest of my life? COME ON! Why do I get to be Maric's consolation prize?

LOGHAIN: Well, life’s a bitch and-

ROWAN: DAMN YOU.

LOGHAIN: I AM DAMNING MYSELF AS WE SPEAK! JUST BLOODY PLAY ORIGINS AND YOU WILL SEE!

DRAMATIC BREAK-UP: *is dramatic*

ROWAN: *cries*

LOGHAIN: *cries*

MARIC, in a different room: *cries*

ORLESIANS: And these people will overthrow our brutal occupation? I think not. --

MARIC: I NEED A HUG!

ROWAN: I will hug you. I will also assume the role of your loving, forgiving and much-stronger queen. Such is my duty.

MARIC: Sexy.

ROWAN: Not particularly. Sexy just broke up with me.

MARIC: I killed sexy. I NEED A HUG!

ROWAN: This will get old very quickly. --

MARIC: I am hardened. It sucks. I suddenly have a spine, and I do things to further our goal.

LOGAIN: I am as surprised as the readers. And a bit guiltily conflicted about it but that's just going to be my personality from now on. So roll with it.

ROWAN: I am stuck with the elf-fetishist for the rest of my life, but hey, why mind me? I never had much of a personality to begin with and won't get a fanbase anyway.

PLOT: *is wearing a bit thin* Come on, get this book over with! --

LOGHAIN: I am very sexy as I lead my rebels in battle.

ROWAN: He is. The bastard.

MARIC: He surely is. And – wait for it - I seem to have found a few survival skills!

LOGHAIN & ROWAN: Praise the Maker! --

WAR:* is won in the epilogue*

ROWAN: *is dead in the epilogue *

LOGHAIN: *is miserable in the epilogue *

MARIC: *is a miserable king in the epilogue*

READERS: Wow, what a fun ride that was.

[doppeldonger]

The Scarlet Letter

The first time he sees her, he’s just released from the doppelgänger program to be moonshot to Elpis, his clothes fresh and his face new and unused. He acts the “handsome asshole with bravado” part quite well, if he says so himself; the swagger looks just right on his fit figure, hands casually in his pockets like he owns the damn place.

But then he sees her.

The colorful lights of the bar caress her pale skin, bringing out her perfect curves; he can’t take his eyes off of the bar owner, her merciless chest, the tiny dress hugging her body, and that voluptuous smile gracing her gorgeous face.

He should be saying something, cracking a joke about how she’s Jack’s ex- or hell, complimenting her, even… But he’s simply speechless, so it’s no surprise that the only sound leaving him is a strangled gurgle. Nisha throws a glare in his way, tipping her hat low and approaching the bar; she rolls her eyes at Timothy’s dumbstruck expression and shares an amused look with Wilhelm before she dives in, peppering Moxxi’s ego with insults. Timothy shakes himself, shedding his reverie like one wakes up from sleep and he interrupts the kinky cowgirl, “Fuck off, Nish! If you’ll get nasty like that, go get yourself a drink and shut up.”

The way Nisha is looking at him speaks a thousand words, like “I’d snap your fucking head if I wasn’t so amused by your show of bravery.” or “You’re lucky you’re Jack’s doppelgänger or I would’ve torn your face off by now.”

The way Moxxi is looking at him, though… Her electric blue eyes shine with amusement and appreciation alike, the angry snarl directed towards Nisha now changed into a pleased little smile, reserved just for him. Looking at the bar owner, Timothy can feel his face burn up in crimson.

Gosh, he’s so embarrassed.

The second time he sees her, the mood is much darker although the scenery is the same. The so-called betrayal of Moxxi, Lilith and Roland left behind long ago, the Vault of the Sentinel has been raided dry; Jack has received the accursed visions, engraved every little detail in the ever-scheming brain of his and dethroned Tassiter just a week ago. Claptrap’s done for, Athena has quit, a very-bored Aurelia following her not much later. That leaves Nisha, Wilhelm and Timothy to deal with Jack’s crazed shenanigans. Juuuuust lovely.

Wilhelm makes his way to the R&D department to let them work on his future robotic enhancements and Jack departs with Nisha for Pandora to take over Lynchwood.

Not before he leaves a gift for Timothy, however.

Thinking back, Timothy is certain that “gift” is for Jack rather than for him; after all, the doppelgänger was the one left screaming in pain on the floor with Jack looming over him with a manic smile on his lips and a brand in his hands.

The moment Jack abandons Timothy to have fun (A.K.A. wreak havoc on Pandora) with his new girlfriend, the doppelgänger abandons Helios to wander around Elpis aimlessly until his feet drag him into Moxxi’s bar, his clothes crumpled, the scar on his face new and hurting like a bitch.

Pulling his hood lower onto his offensive face, he makes his way to the bar and the absence of his usual polite-and-cheerful attitude immediately alarms the bar owner. She can’t look past the shadows of his hood, and it takes a good deal of coaxing to get his head up just an inch.

And then she sees it.

They end up in the backroom Moxxi uses as her lodging whenever she’s running the bar on Elpis, the woman shaking with fury as opposed to Timothy’s cold nonchalance and resignation. She demands answers, just like he expected her to do, barely able to contain her frustrated screams at Jack’s boldness. He’s just silent, sitting on the edge of Moxxi’s bed sized just for a queen like her, eyes looking at a spot in the wall and unseeing.

She eventually sits down next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and tries to get him to do something, to talk, to scream, to cry… she just wants him to stop bottling up his emotions so.

But he feels so, so embarrassed.

“It’s not your fault.” she murmurs, carding her long thin fingers through his disheveled hair and thinking how easily he revels in the gesture Jack hated so much. He was supposed to be a face like Jack’s and nothing more, but he’s a completely different human being under all the plastic surgery and training; she falls for him a little just by watching him there, the deep bass of the club providing background noise, albeit muffled. “You’re a wonderful person, and you deserve none of this.”

His head snaps up and he looks at her disbelievingly, “I do! I asked for all this when I signed up for this shit!”

She can understand how he feels, “You couldn’t have known. Don’t be embarrassed.” She knows, she knows, and that makes him feel all the worse. He ends up sliding off the bed onto the floor nevertheless, his aching face buried in her lap in hopes for alleviation her gentle hands could provide.

He leaves her and her bar after a while, eyes puffed up and sniffing, his hood back on his head as he heads out. He’ll have to return to Helios eventually, he has a tight schedule since Jack will be back soon, but he still has some time to clear his head. She knows it too, so Moxxi sees him off with a sad smile and a friendly advice, “Hubris is the downfall of a person, but humility is no better.”

The third time is the charm, and they see each other in conditions that are much different when they meet all these years later. Timothy is working for the CEO of the biggest company around, but it’s not Hyperion anymore. The guy who goes by the humble name of Rhys is a much better boss than Jack could even dream of becoming; and he knows how much Timothy has suffered in the hands of the said man, having housed him in his head in the form of a distorted AI. So it’s no surprise when Rhys sends Timothy to Moxxi with an offer: Come open up shop in Serenity, the city we built over Opportunity as Atlas, for a better future. Flashy, just like the young CEO himself, if you ask Timothy, but both men know it’ll make Moxxi interested; they’re asking her for her bar and her mechanic excellency alike, after all.

So, here he stands, in the middle of Moxxi’s bar up on Sanctuary with Brick and Mordecai sent to accompany him by Lilith; they still don’t trust him after all these years, and he can’t really blame them. He doesn’t mind their presence either, it keeps the curious residents of the floating city away from him; no questions about his face or voice dared to be asked. When he sees her, he’s as stupefied as he was all those years ago on Elpis; his clothes worn off from age and violence just like his face, but Moxxi seems unchanged as opposed to him with her lovely purple dress worshipping her curves and with her electric blue eyes.

She seems surprised to see him, because of all the years they remained apart without communication or because he’s brave enough to set foot in Lilith’s city, he does not know. He bets on both as he settles in a bar chair, the other vault hunters sitting on either side of him like menacing bouncers (who’s protecting who, and from whom at this point? He just doesn’t know). He orders a drink he knows he won’t touch, he’s not really into alcohol (Jack called him “a pansy” along with many other insulting slurs in the past for it); plus, the sight in front of him and the mission he’s on are much more interesting to him.

“Hey.” he greets her, still feeling a little tongue-tied after all these years. He gives her a genuine smile and offers his hands to her across the counter. Her surprise morphs into joy and she leans to put her hands in his, his order long forgotten. Brick and Mordecai make gagging sounds (especially Mordecai, glaring at him all the while he makes sure how much he hates the scene he’s witnessing. Right, Moxxi’s exes.), but Timothy and Moxxi simply end up giggling at the reaction.

She smiles at him and he can feel his soul being cleansed of his sins with that gesture alone. “It’s been so long.” she whispers and he nods, “What brings you here, Tim?”

“An offer, actually.” Moxxi raises a curious eyebrow and lets out an interested hum. “I work for Atlas now, and the CEO himself has a proposal. Gosh, don’t look at me like that, Moxxi; unlike the last one, this one isn’t a narcissistic asshole with a high killstreak.” That gets a laugh out of the three of them and Timothy counts that as a win. “He wants you to set up a bar in Serenity, he thinks it’ll be a good way to draw people to the city. If you’re interested in an Atlas city, it can’t be bad, right?” He smiles at her, quirking an eyebrow. “He also wants you to open a shop that’s similar to uh…” he coughs, embarrassed, “To Scooter’s.” The hands in his grasp tense for a moment, a look passing Moxxi’s eyes. “Rhys knew Scooter, says he was one helluva guy, talented and fun and all that.” He gives Moxxi’s hands an encouraging squeeze and the bar owner graces him with a proud smile.

“That’s Scooter, alright, that’s my son.” she replies, head held high and not a tear shed. She’s a strong woman, and Timothy knows he’s fallen hard for her yet again. She relaxes, looking into Timothy’s eyes, “That’s what your CEO wants. What do you want?”

The ex-doppelgänger smiles at her with a loving expression, “I just want you to be happy.” (“Booooooooooriiiiiiiing!” Brick moans in the background.)

But Moxxi gives him a matching smile, and he’s over the moon, “How about… We talk about this over dinner?”

Timothy sputters, along with the other vault hunters, “D-dinner?” Ah, there he is, the shy, polite guy she met all those years ago. She chuckles, “A big offer like that can’t be discussed over alcohol, can it? Plus, I really, really missed you.”

That deep, sultry tone, that voluptuous smile he came to associate with her, those electric blue eyes darkening with promises not said aloud… That does it for him, and he ends up feeling embarrassed once again, crimson dusting his cheeks like it did the moment they met all those years ago. “I-“ he clears his throat, ‘cause wow, it’s getting hot in here and his throat is perched, “I’d love that, Moxxi.”

Two weeks later, Moxxi sets up two shops in Serenity, enrapturing the residents easily with her bar and mechanic shop alike. She works awfully close to apartment complex Timothy resides in, but nobody makes a mention of it.

And if she ends up unofficially moving in with him eventually, sharing his food, his shower, his bed and his love, none of them is complaining.

 This request is great and you’re great, @torrarina!

[hearts-hunger]

aay’han mar’eyce (bittersweet discovery): chapter two || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

chapter one

Series Summary: In search of the Jedi you’ve been tasked to find, you and Din wrestle with the bittersweet discovery of your little one’s past and destined future. || Part Three of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: A forest planet with no forests, a Magistrate with the city pinned under her thumb, and a commission to kill the Jedi you were looking for. Yep, sounds about right for you and Din.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst | Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence

A/N: In my humble opinion, this chapter is light years better than the first one. Basically Din being a big strong gentle protective husband, love that for him. I hope you like it! ♡

The walls of the city were every bit as bleak as the landscape they jutted up from. Dirty grey stone was topped by a bell tower and a pair of soldiers, their breather masks dark with a thin, horizontal visor. They turned to each other as you approached from the edge of the forest, and their conversation was clipped and modulated through their vocoders.

“What do you think, cyar’ika?” Din asked, his voice low. “Should I start wearing a mask like that?”

You looked up at him, confused by the question. “No. I like your mask the way it is.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “I know,” he said. “I was kidding.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a little sheepish. He’d been trying to ease your obvious tension with a little humor, and it had gone straight over your head.

He gently nudged his shoulder against yours. “Take a deep breath, cyare,” he said kindly. “We have nothing to hide.”

Nothing except a ship that was flagged by New Republic records, a stolen asset of the Imperial warlords, and the man who was wanted for both transgressions. You couldn’t help a wry smile and knew he was smiling back at you under the helm.

As you approached the gate, a third, maskless soldier appeared to stand in front of the wide, oddly-shaped bell that topped the tower. He peered down at you through the gloom and took in your small party as you came to a stop.

“State your business,” he called down.

Din kept his posture intentionally relaxed. “Been tracking for a few days,” he said. “Looking for a layover.”

The soldier raised a brow. “Nice armor.”

You husband didn’t offer a comment, though you weren’t sure what the soldier had been expecting in response. The soldier looked from Din to you, and then to the baby in your arms.

“You a hunter, then?” he asked. You heard the suspicion in his tone; bounty hunters, especially Mandalorians, were usually lone wolves. To travel in such vulnerable company was unheard of for someone who made their living in violence. 

Din wasn’t shaken; he didn’t owe anyone an explanation. “That’s right.”

“Guild?”

You schooled your expression and fought the temptation to cast a nervous glance at your husband. Though he wasn’t wanted by the Guild any more, thanks to Greef, Din still hadn’t been reinstated. Thankfully he was a much better liar than you were, by virtue of his helmet and extensive practice, and kept his tone neutral. 

“Last I checked,” he said. Hopefully this soldier wouldn’t feel the need to make sure.

One of the masked soldiers said something, and the soldier you’d been speaking to gave the order to open the gate. You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding - it had been a long time since you'd accompanied Din on a hunt, and you had never been as good as he was at keeping your nerves in check. He briefly took your hand in his own and gave it a quick, comforting squeeze.

The city was no more welcoming than the scorched forest, and you stayed close by your husband’s side as he led you through the thoroughfare. He stood tall and walked with intention, and you were better able to calm the unease that plagued you as you drew strength from his confidence and composure. Though he’d been nervous before, you knew he was in his element now; he’d honed his ability to bluff and intimidate for years, until it had become second nature. You caught curious and even hostile looks from citizens and soldiers alike, but no one approached you; a broad-shouldered Mandalorian clad head to toe in beskar was a strong deterrent to anyone looking for trouble.

If the state of the city was any indication, it seemed as though Calodan had trouble in spades. Masked soldiers marched through the city, boots tramping over broken cobblestones as they led people away from the main road. Anyone not accompanied by soldiers moved with caution and haste, looking over their shoulders and rushing indoors like something was after them. No one spoke - no friendly greetings were exchanged, no children played in the street. Broken-down droids wandered aimlessly with rusty joints and damaged vocabulators.

It seemed like an oppressive, desolate, dangerous place to live. If this is where Ahsoka Tano made her home, you would rather break your vow to the Armorer than leave your baby with her. You wouldn’t leave him here. You couldn’t.

Din went up the only vendor on the street, a silver-haired old woman who watched him with a wary gaze.

“Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone - ”

She turned and ducked inside without a word, and Din cut himself off with a sigh. Your baby gave a little babble and reached out after her.

“Shh, my darling,” you said gently, offering your finger for him to hold. He wrapped his claws around it and gave you a questioning look.

You bit your lip. He wasn’t being naughty; he wasn’t even being loud, really. But he always drew attention anyway, and his curious little coos would only attract more unwanted gazes. You pressed a soft kiss to his head and he was content to snuggle close to you again, but not before you realized he had attracted the attention of two younglings in an alley a few paces away. An older man knelt in front of them; they looked at your baby with wide eyes.

Din took a step towards the man. “You there,” he said easily. “I need some information. I’m looking for someone.”

The man ushered the children away and straightened. 

“Please, do not speak to them,” he said firmly. “Or to any of us.”

You couldn't think why - surely they wouldn’t get in trouble for merely talking to you, and Din had shown no indication that he was looking for a fight.

Din sighed. “Look, I just need to know - ”

“The Magistrate wants to see you.”

You jumped at the warped, metallic voice so close behind you; you grabbed Din’s arm in panic and pulled yourself closer to him, pressing the baby safely between you. Din turned slowly, glancing at you to make sure you were alright before he turned his gaze to the masked soldiers that flanked you. Your hand trembled where it gripped the fabric of his flight suit; he briefly put his hand over yours and didn’t attempt to pry your fingers loose.

“It’s alright, cyare,” he said, softly enough that his modulator caught a little. You slowly let him go even though you wanted nothing more than to hold on tighter.

The soldiers waited for you to comply but seemed unwilling to act with any force if unprovoked. You guessed their presence alone must be enough to prompt obedience on the part of the townspeople, and wondered if anyone dared to question the bidding of the Magistrate. Your husband didn’t seem of any mind to, and he guided you back into the center of the street with a light touch on your back. 

You tried to get your heart to stop beating so wildly in your chest. Din wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you knew. The soldiers accompanied you down the remainder of the street until it stopped at another gate; prisoners were strung up in shock cages on either side, groaning and pleading for help as currents of white-hot electricity jolted through them.

So that was what happened to anyone who questioned the bidding of the Magistrate. You shielded your little one from seeing the gruesome display and avoided looking at it yourself, fervently trying not to think about how your family might meet a similar fate after your meeting. Your baby burrowed closer against your chest as you followed Din through the gate.

The doors behind you closed and left you in a holding area of sorts, and you felt a brief thrill of claustrophobia before the second set of doors parted to reveal a beautiful courtyard. The difference between it and the rest of the city was jarring: lush trees framed twin pools on either side of the walkway, and a woman in long robes gazed into the water as it lapped up against the stone.

“Come forward.” Her voice was calm, commanding. You and Din complied, watching as she kept her attention on the water.

“You are a Mandalorian?” she asked. She sprinkled something from a little golden bowl into the water, and the surface shimmered with ripples as something moved below.

“Yes,” Din said. You were thankful, despite everything, at how quickly his voice soothed you even when he wasn’t speaking to you. You concentrated on the feel of him beside you - steady, calm, solid. Like he’d reminded you to at the front gate, you took a deep breath.

The Magistrate didn't turn from the water. “I have a proposition that may interest you.”

You felt a your tension ease, but not by much. You may not have been called to a private audience to be imprisoned in a shock cage or sent out of the city, but the thought of making a deal with her still made you wary.

Din considered her. “My price is high,” he warned.

She looked up at you then, moving to the center of the walkway; she circled like a tusk-cat for a moment, sizing you up.

“This target is priceless,” she said finally. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

Ahsoka Tano was battling with the Magistrate of the city? She was obviously powerful, if the soldiers had done so poor a job of dealing with her that the Magistrate was looking to enlist a bounty hunter’s help. But as skilled as Din was, he’d never fought a Jedi - you had been hoping he wouldn’t have to.

The magistrate looked at you, eyeing you and your baby with interest. You wanted to step behind Din and hide, but made yourself stay still.

“That’s a difficult task,” Din told her. 

She didn’t seem troubled. “One that you are well suited for,” she said. “The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

Another reminder of the seemingly endless list of reasons why this whole venture was a bad idea - Jedi seemed to make enemies wherever they went. Though you supposed standing up to this Magistrate who kept her citizens in poverty and oppression indicated a moral code in the Jedi you were seeking, it still didn’t seem any way of life for one as little as your son.

If the Magistrate had expected to get a rise out of your husband with that comment, she was disappointed. “As I said, my price is high.”

She beckoned to the droid behind her, a guard who wielded a silver spear. You stiffened, and Din moved himself in front of you ever so slightly as she took the spear and slowly approached you.

“What do you make of this?” she asked. She offered the spear to your husband, and he cautiously moved to take it from her. You stayed where you were, your pulse thrumming a wary beat.

Din studied the spear, looking up its length and turning it over in his hands. Unlike the rest of the metal in the city, it caught the weak sunlight easily and shone like your husband’s armor. It looked at home in his hands; you knew it would be an impressive weapon if he were to use it. He raised his arm and brought the side of the spear down on his vambrace; it gave a clear, ringing tone at the contact like that of a temple bell.

“Beskar,” Din said. A weapon of that strength would be valuable to anyone, but its significance ran deeper to a Mandalorian. You wondered how he felt at the Magistrate owning something that rightfully belonged to his people, about her using it as leverage to get him to kill for her.

The Magistrate was no stranger to its significance. “Pure beskar,” she agreed. “Like your armor. Kill the Jedi, and it’s yours.”

Din handed the spear back to her. “Where do I find this Jedi?”

The Magistrate gave a self-satisfied smile, clearly thinking she had won him over to do her bidding.

“Last my scouts reported, she was deep in the forest southwest of the city,” she said. She looked over his shoulder at you. “Are you planning to take the girl and the little one with you?”

Was she suggesting he leave you here? You knew better than anyone that would only happen over your husband’s dead body.

Din held the Magistrate’s gaze.“Wherever I go, they go.”

She raised a brow. “Strange, for a Mandalorian to be attached to something so... fragile.”

You wished you felt braver under the scrutiny of her gaze and the sharpness of her observation. It was a sentiment you’d heard countless times since you and Din had started courting, and though you’d learned not to let it bother you as much, you still couldn’t ignore the truth of it. Mandalorians ran with other Mandalorians, not younglings and nervous things like you who had to be reminded to breathe. Din had never intentionally done anything to make you feel weak or less than - in fact, he did everything he could to teach you your own strength and bravery - but you knew it was a rare thing to find someone as good and kind as he was. 

Meeting the Magistrate’s gaze, you raised your chin, trying to muster some defiance; she gave you a small, derisive smile in return.

“My chief officer will lead you out of the city and give you the Jedi’s last known coordinates” she said to Din. “Come back when you have killed her, and I shall uphold my end of the bargain.”

The doors behind you groaned open, and it was only then that Din came back to you. You knew he was aware of every potential threat and prepared to protect you from them, but you still felt uneasy with your back to the Magistrate. He steadied you with a gentle touch to your arm, and your baby cooed up at his father as you returned through the gate.

The soldier who’d questioned you earlier was waiting for you; Din spoke to him briefly, getting the coordinates as promised, and put himself between you and the gaunt officer as you walked back to the front gate. Fog threaded through the jagged treeline and curled over the charred ground, and the greenish sun was sinking lower.

You baby gave a little babble, drawing the officer’s dubious gaze. You gave the officer a challenging look, daring him to say something - it was easier to do with Din between you than it would have been otherwise.

“What is that thing?” the officer finally asked.

You glared at him. Who did he think he was? Thing, indeed. You’d like to give him a piece of your mind. But before you could retort with a healthy dose of mama-bear indignation, Din stepped in.

“We keep it around for luck,” he said, with what you were sure was a withering look under the helmet.

The officer sized him up. “You’re gonna need it where you’re headed.”

Din didn’t offer a response. He put his hand on the small of your back and led you away from the city, towards the southwest; the baby looked over your shoulder and gave the officer a parting coo, social as always. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help a small smile and nuzzled a kiss against your baby’s cheek. His soft giggle was comforting as the forest became denser, and you held onto the precious sound as you pressed closer to Din’s side.

“Your daddy says we only keep you around for luck,” you told your baby.

Din looked down at your little one and gently tapped his nose. “Maybe if your mama wouldn’t go picking a fight with the chief officer, I wouldn’t have to.”

You huffed. “I wasn’t the one picking a fight. He called our son a ‘thing’, Din. A thing.”

He gave an amused hum. “I know. But I didn’t want to have to explain to the Magistrate why her chief officer was beaten to death by your tiny fists.”

You gave a wry smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You held your hand up in front of you and made a fist.

“They’re not that tiny.”

He took your hand in his, gently turning it this way and that in mock-seriousness until you laughed.

“Alright, fine,” you said. “They are tiny. Especially compared to yours.”

He chuckled and raised your knuckles to the bottom of his visor in a light kiss; you gave him a bashful smile back.

You walked the next few minutes in companionable silence, Din helping you through the obstacles the broken trees presented when you needed it. The forest wasn’t nice, by any estimation, but it was a good deal less stressful than the city had been. The baby could babble as much as he liked, and you were free to peruse your thoughts on how your situation had changed.

You hadn’t really known what to expect, but nothing that had happened so far seemed an indication that leaving your baby with Ahsoka Tano was a good idea. A forest planet with no forests, a Magistrate with the city pinned under her thumb, a commission to kill the Jedi you were looking for. Maybe you’d naively thought the Jedi would be a peaceful sort, that you’d be comfortable leaving your little one with someone kind who lived on a nice planet where he would be happy while he trained.

He cooed back at the deep lowing of some huge animal, and you hugged him close. No - even if everything had gone exactly as you wanted it to, you wouldn’t be comfortable leaving him. Just the thought of it made your whole body ache with grief. He was your baby, even if he was technically older than both you and Din. What sort of mother gave up her child like that, to a perfect stranger?

You didn’t realize how tensely you’d curled in on yourself, how closely you held your baby like someone would snatch him away at any moment; he gave a little babble of protest, and you tried to relax. You kissed his head. 

“Sorry, ad’ika,” you said quietly.

Din looked over at you. “You alright?” You knew from his tone he meant more than just physically, and you worried your bottom lip.

“You’re not going to kill her, are you?”

He held a low-hanging branch out of your way. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Even if I wasn’t looking for her, it wouldn’t be a noble kill. I don’t work for tyrants.”

You looked up at him. He was focused on making sure you were headed in the right direction, but you knew he would listen if you had more to say.

“How do you think the Magistrate got that spear?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe she had it made out of imperial beskar, or it might be an old Mandalorian weapon that fell into her hands somehow.”

You frowned. He didn’t seem that concerned about it, but you’d seen your husband willing to shoot first and ask questions later when it came to stolen Mandalorian armor. He’d nearly had a shootout with Cobb over it, and you didn’t understand his apathy towards the beskar spear.

“You don’t want it?” you pressed. 

He looked over at you. “Do you? Even if we have to pay for it in blood?”

You flinched. He’d said “we”, but you both knew he’d be the one with blood on his hands, and he’d had enough of that already to know what it cost. Stolen armor meant a dead Mandalorian - or worse, dar’manda,  someone who had willingly given up the Way. To bring it back where it rightfully belonged was a matter of the Mandalorian soul. A beskar spear was, in the end, just a spear; he’d get more than he bargained for, working for someone like the Magistrate for a mere weapon, and you both knew it.

You turned your head and didn’t look at him. “Sorry.”

He sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know that’s not what you meant.”

Neither of you said anything for a moment, this silence more tense than the last; without having to be asked, he offered you his hand to help you over a fallen tree in your path. You held his hand tighter than you really needed to, feeling a wave of relief and a little embarrassment when he kept his hand in yours even when you were safely on the other side.

“I really am sorry, Din,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to question your decision. I know you wouldn’t do something like that. Of course the spear isn’t worth it.”

He shook his head. "You don't have to apologize. I knew that wasn’t what you were saying, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please forgive me.”

You took your hand from his, and his body language showed surprise only for a moment before you put your arm around his waist and pressed close to him. He relaxed and drew you close; he ran a soothing hand over your back, resting his helm against your head.

“I don’t like any of this,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. Both of you were wound pretty tightly, and you hoped it wouldn't cause any more spats. Your baby reached out for his dad and Din offered him a finger to hold onto. 

Din sighed. “I know. I don’t like it either. But we’re already here - we might as well find her and see what she has to say.”

He ran his thumb over the baby’s hand. “She might not even want to train him. He’s still so little.”

Your baby cooed and cocked his head, and the mannerism reminded you so much of Din that you felt a rush of tears you couldn’t prepare for. You leaned further into Din’s steadiness and took a wobbly breath.

“Promise me we won’t - ” Your voice hitched. You looked up at him. “Promise me we won’t leave him with her if it’s not safe. If she’s not - kind to him. I can’t leave him with someone who doesn’t - ”

You stopped yourself before you said what you meant, someone who doesn’t love him. To leave him with someone who loved him was too much to hope for, even in the best of circumstances. You’d have to let him go at some point, you knew, but you almost couldn’t bear it and certainly refused to if he wasn’t going to be safe and happy.

Your husband rested his helm against your forehead. “I promise, cyar'ika.” You knew how much he meant it, and felt some of the tension bleed out of you as you stayed safely in his arms.

 You walked for a long time before you neared the coordinates the officer had given you, winding through the remains of what must have been a beautiful forest before it was destroyed. The city must have gotten some material use out of stripping the landscape bare, but it wouldn’t have surprised you if the Magistrate had ordered it just for the sake of inflicting further destruction. It stretched on for miles, this barren wasteland, and the skeletal remains were so tangled together that it was often difficult to get through.

You ducked under a heavy, fallen trunk, minding your head carefully - though you hadn’t been hurt yet, your usually composed husband had endured a comical amount of aggravations during your hike. His cloak snagged on every little thing, he’d smacked his helmet stepping under a fallen tree, and he’d tripped so dramatically over a hidden root that you’d had to hold onto him for support as you doubled over in deep, hearty laughter. He’d grumbled good-naturedly as he let you lean on his arm, and eventually he'd started laughing too. It worked wonders to ease your tension and fatigue, and your baby had giggled with you, delighted to see his parents so amused.

Now, though, Din’s posture had straightened a little more as the tracker on his vambrace gave a chime. He pulled the strap of his Amban rife over his head and held the weapon in a relaxed but ready position.

“Well, these are the coordinates,” he told you, walking forward as he scanned the area. “Keep your eyes open. We must be close.”

He tapped the side of his helmet to activate his HUD; you looked around, unsure if you’d be able to spot anything that was trying to hide with the sun sinking low and the fog creeping in.

A far-off sound, like a tree being snapped in two, made you jump; an unfriendly animal screech followed, and you closed the small distance between you and your husband.

“You hear that?” he asked.

You nodded, grabbing his arm just below his pauldron. He gave your hand a distracted pat, trying to comfort you and stay aware of your surroundings at the same time.

“Don’t worry,” he said. He nodded to a boulder lodged in a mass of tree roots to your right. “Stay right here. Let me see what’s out there.”

You did as he said, cradling your baby close and worrying your bottom lip as Din took the sight off his rifle. He used it to scan the mass of scraggly trees ahead; you looked that way too, though you didn't hope to see anything he wouldn’t.

His gaze snagged on something, and he relaxed. “False alarm,” he said. “It’s just - ”

A bright, loud hiss came from behind you; for a second, all you could make out was a brilliant white light. Moving on instinct, you shielded your baby with your body, the unmistakable sound of weapons hitting beskar ringing in your ears.

Read chapter three!

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