#he is getting less rational and more reckless each day

[ssreeder]

Zuko: was in the same torture camp as the other. Was found fighting against the rough rhinos and saved both Sokka and Jet's life and then was in such a bad state he could barely wake or move for days.

Jet: But he's Fire Nation and their prince at that!

Without wondering why they'd put their prince in such a state...

Like. I get anger and hatred can destroy so much but Jet's not even trying to be rational.

Which is saying a lot 'cause Sokka's also not very rational but he generally manages to keep it to the actual ppl who directly hurt him.

Canon:

Jet meets Zuko and says “he didn’t get that scar form a water bender…”

Then decides he thinks Zuko is a fire bender and IMMEDIATELY doesn’t give a fuck that he has a huge scar across his face and is seeking refuge in BSS and makes it his mission to fuck up his life and expose him.

I don’t think Jet knows what rational is…

At least Sokka seems to know, he is just unable to be rational sometimes. He is slowly getting better though!

& Jet is getting worse…

:(

#I love Jet #but he is FLAWED #Sokka is struggling right now as well #but now that he is actively being hunted for sport he seems to be calming down #Zuko isn’t dying at the moment #so things are calming down for Sokka #while on the other side of camp #they are riling up for Jet #he is getting less rational and more reckless each day #haaaaa I’m sure it’ll be fine :D #:D #liab #ria #ask

[msfbgraves]

Terry is the hardest one for me to pinpoint in a Hogwarts House. I keep going back and forth between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but I tend to lean Ravenclaw. Then again, I see Slytherin and Ravenclaw as complimentary of each other, just as I see Gryffindor and Hufflepuff being complimentary of each other. So who knows?

I don't like Daniel in Slytherin, he's a Gryffindor soul to me; he's hot-headed, acts firsts and thinks later, brave to the point of recklessness (though it has toned down from his younger days), and he's not hardworking enough to be a Hufflepuff. Though he's very kind and sincere and affectionate.

Kreese as a bad!Gryffindor is brilliant and I love it; he's not a Slytherin, he just comes off as one. I also love Chozen as a good!Slytherin.

Johnny is 100% a Gryffindor, he is too highly reckless and brazen for a Hufflepuff. Also red-blooded--act first, think later, face the consequences following almost always. Robby reminds me of Chozen, so another good!Slytherin. Miguel I have no idea, but definitely not Ravenclaw. Amanda is another good!Slytherin for sure, cunning, clever, ambitious, and cut-throat. If she wasn't, I'd also put her in Ravenclaw for her usual clearheadness and rationality. (Then again, I also see her as being the female, softer version of Terry so...)

Even in the books they acknowledge that the Sorting is far from absolute nor should it be. It's less about somebody's absolute traits than where someone's head is at the moment of Sorting. Harry, in the first year, almost being sorted into Slytherin, and going to Gryffindor at his own request is a prime example. It's completely possible then that people indeed fit into more houses than the one that they're placed at. So is Terry a Ravenclaw if he wants to be? Maybe! He seemed to have left that ambition pretty much behind when he was with Cheyenne, instead spending most of his time on intellectual and artistic pursuits. And sure, sure, we can sort Johnny in Gryffindor I don't think he's half as reckless, naturally, as Daniel is. There are other Gryffindor traits he does not show, and are supposedly part of what Gryffindors are known for: standing up to authority, which he doesn't do even when his life hangs in the balance. He lets Kreese take Cobra Kai without so much as a fight! When Kreese is choking him he tries to, as is customary in sports, submit to him, while he has every reason to know that Kreese will not listen to that. His first instinct still stays to follow the rules of a fight, not break them. He doensn't stand up to his sensei, not without help, we see this time and time again. And chivalry? No. Johnny isn't chivalrous. He does not try to help Miguel when he meets him, he has no problem taking on Anoush, who he knows is weaker than him and in no position to fight back, at work! Now Kreese also does not have a chivalrous bone in his body, but I feel that this might be an overreaction to what he thought, in Vietnam, chivalry would get him. He has saved Terry many a time, we've known this since the third film. To me it really reads as if all Johnny's recklessness was a learned behaviour in Kreese's image. Learned very well, I grant, but it's not consistent. It feels to me like this is something he has learnt he has to do to deal with problems, but not something he does if he gets to call the shots completely. Like no Gryffindor would let Daniel take on a whole hockey team by himself. That's not what they do.

Maybe I'm wrong and the whole chivalry angle is simply propaganda, but Johnny does not jump into action when the going gets hot outside of his control. Yeah, him going to Terry without any second thought on what he's dealing with, very Gryffindor. But that he has sought and thinks he can control. But when things get really, primally dangerous, he always bails. Can't care for Robby? Exits. Can't be there for Miguel? Exits. Sensei wants him to hurt Daniel? "Yes, sensei." Kreese steals his dojo? He runs. Daniel needs his help beating someone up? "Cool off, man."

So, I don't know, he might have fit in Gryffindor, too, but at his core I see a boy who is extremely loyal, kind of risk averse, (definitely emotionally) a hard worker, who likes his comforts - he's never happier than having a drink and some pizza together - and who needs someone to follow.

Now they say Hufflepuffs and Slytherins get on very well, which you can see in Johnny being Amanda's bestie! When Amanda says, "Johnny, let the grownups do the talking", he sits back without a single moment's protest. And he gets on very well with Chozen too! It's far easier for him being friends with them than with Daniel.

But who knows, maybe being around Gryffindors would have made him a little more chivalrous, and then he would have fit that house. Still, he stays back quite easily, while Daniel can't stop himself Getting Into Situations. The second he can, still beat from two days before, he needles all the Cobras. Johnny didn't start that. Instead of just leaving him be, he exposes Chozen's trickery. He almost kills himself trying out a new karate move. Terry reappears and he's like a pissed off chihuahua, the first time he sees Mike Barnes after about 40 years he's like "Hey! And another thing!" as if they'd been fighting seconds ago.

I just love my Hufflepuff!Johnny trying to mimic a Gryffindor too much to let him go, Nonnie 😍

#johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #terry silver #john kreese #cobra kai

[creaturefeaster]

how do zack and taylor meet? and how does their relationship evolve throughout the story?

They went to the same highschool, met there, and remained nothing more than acquaintances who hung out once in a blue moon until the events of the story took place. They sorta just happened to be hanging out at the time of the Fault.

Taylor is a lone wolf and Zack is a people person, so in the beginning Taylor tried to find many reasons to brace the apocalypse alone, while Zack did his best to stick by Taylor's side to avoid being on his own.

It worked out though, because while Taylor is strong and athletic, it just wasn't realistic that he'd survive all on his own against monsters many times his size and strength. Zack was always there to help in fight or flight. In turn, Taylor kept Zack from becoming reckless and going overboard, something he is prone to doing when left by himself.

Their friendship grew relatively quickly at the start as they worked to help eachother, although they both fought against it from time to time. Even then, when they felt more secure together than alone, there were a lot of factors that made it difficult for them.

The Persuasions of fate and other types never work for them like they do for the main cast. They are not 'needed' in the grand scheme that is fixing the world from chaos. They simply live in it, and reap no benefits from that temporal aid. So, they struggle against their fair share of poor luck, hard times, and supply scarcity. This causes occasional tension between them.

Their friendship strengthens later on, though, when they meet up with Hannah & her friends. With no means of safe transportation at the time, little food, and nothing better to do, they helped Hannah out with some RV issues she was having, and in turn she let them hang around for a little bit. (Hannah is a little too nice that way. She's all for helping strangers in need, even without knowing their true intentions.)

This relief allowed Taylor and Zack's pressures to ease up for a while, which meant less friction and tension. Taylor prefers hanging around people he knows rather than large groups of people he doesn't, so he and Zack's bond only grew stronger during this time as he stuck by Zack's side.

Zack also rubbed off on Taylor a bit through the several weeks they'd stuck together. Taylor is rational and keeps to himself, but Zack likes to take risks and go for broke quite often. When they feel at their most secure, Zack eventually convinces Taylor to help steal Hannah's RV in the night and drive off with it.

It's right around this time that I'd say they're probably something just a touuuuuch more than friends. Taylor would deny this outright, however.

During most of their time with Hannah & the gang, Zack felt secure enough to come on to Taylor-- rather strongly at times-- and so there was a lot of..... like, sexual tension between them for a bit. Even if Taylor persistently denied attraction.

But! When they were alone together again, and felt like they had much more of a chance on their own (now with an RV stocked with much needed supplies!), I'd say that Taylor started to give into Zack's flirts just a tiny bit. Or maybe a better way of putting it, he tolerated it all a bit more.

It's a long ass process from there. Taylor is stubborn and resists changes in relationship. It took them a couple of months at least of being by eachother's sides 24 hours a day for him to accept the fact that they were probably friends. It takes even longer for him to accept any different.

They eventually lose the RV, get caught up in Bristly's reign like everyone else, and again struggle through life. But with being so close at this point, their struggles are instead softened from time to time when they know that, in the end, they have each other.

#*they have each other....... and the ability to aggressively make out when tensions are high #<3 tehee #that tag is probably funnier if you read it before opening the read more #theres more to their story ofc but this is how their relationship progresses #brambleramble

[astaroth1357]

How Often They Worry about MC…

For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.

Lucifer 

Near constantly. 

If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.

Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).

But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…

They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...

If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.

He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.

Mammon

He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…

Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.

Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!

The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…

Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 

If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.

If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 

If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.

It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…

Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.

Leviathan

Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…

He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…

"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"

"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"

"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"

Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.

If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.

Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…

Satan

He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…

For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.

Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.

He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.

The cycle usually goes: 

1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.

2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.

3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.

4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…

5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…

It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)

Asmodeus 

Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…

Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.

Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.

The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.

Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!

If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?

Beelzebub

It comes in waves, mostly at night.

When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.

In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…

Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…

After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.

He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…

When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…

Belphegor 

More scared about it than anyone else in the House.

Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.

Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?

Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.

Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).

When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons

[bakubub]

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!! #haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

If you leave - bodyguard/royal au part 2

^ that counts as a request right? Angst below, I don’t know what fluff is anymore but I think there’s a sprinkle of it somewhere... I think.

Prev | Next

————————————————————————————————————————

“Baby let’s dance.”

If you closed your eyes you could almost imagine it was Jimin’s voice, but you don’t want to think about him now, that’s not why you’re here in blinding lights and deafening music, you want to forget, you need to forget.

“Not with you,” you say to the man that approached you, walking away to the bar for another drink. Stupid fool didnt realise he unlocked another memory of them, you’d need something more in your system to get it out.

But when you closed your eyes you could see him, reaching out his hands to you, eyes disappearing with how much he was smiling. “Dance with me princess.”

Memories that made you feel warmth now bought you so much pain, since that day you both felt hollow and as if there was a heavy weight on your chest, you didn’t know how to explain it. It just hurt, and you thought it would get better with time but it didn’t. It got worse.

So you didn’t mind the hands on your body when you danced into the night, you didn’t mind the hangovers in the morning, the pain in your head dulling the ache in your heart just a little.

You feel arms wrap around you from behind as you take another swing of your drink. Whoever he was he felt muscular, tall, but you don’t care. It isn’t until he rests his chin on the top of your head you realise he feels like Jungkook and your heart beats back to life again. You close your eyes and let them hold you, pretending for a second that it was your Kookie, that he’d move to rest his head on your shoulder when you ignored him like he always did, squeezing you harder, pouting until he got your attention. You let yourself dream for a second, even though you knew when the illusion shattered the black hole in your chest would expand tenfold. Like it always did when you let yourself pretend.

You could feel tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t do this, the man behind you must’ve felt your discomfort because he suddenly backed away. You hear a ruckus behind you but you don’t give a shit, he’s not Kookie, he’s not any one of the men that can make this go away.

You’re about to take another sip of your drink until you feel the weight of a hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You know that hand, your eyes are fixed on it, your breathing becomes shallow and rapid as your gaze follows the hand to the body it’s connected to.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” What’s he doing here, he’s the one that decided to leave you, why does he care what happens to you?

You don’t know if you’re refusing to speak or if you can’t with how much his presence has put you in a daze, you can see the way his jaw is clenched the way it always did when you tested his patience. Good, let him be angry, let him feel a little of what you were.

He pulls you to stand and follow him, grip unrelenting and pace unforgiving. You try to get out of his hold but Joon pissed was a different force of nature, you wonder what he was doing in a place like this.

It isn’t until you’re outside you see Yoongi standing with his back to the car, they’re both in uniform, they must’ve been on their new job when they found you. You pretend that doesn’t sting, you don’t care it’s their job how dare they replace you when you felt their absence each and every day.

“You’re not my bodyguard anymore Namjoon, let me go,” you’re quiet but you’re seething.

He slams you back against the car, the only feeling coursing through his system was rage and it mixed with every other emotion he was feeling at this moment; worry, guilt, his heart breaking.

“Where the hell are your bodyguards Y/n?” When he finds them he’s going to put a fist in their faces repeatedly for letting you get into this state.

“Don’t have any,” you’re smiling now but it’s unnerving, it’s fake and it’s nothing he has ever seen before on your face.

“What do you mean you don’t have any?” Yoongi sounds calm, but that’s how you know he’s as angry as Namjoon.

“Why the hell do you both care? You left me,” it shouldnt sting the way it does when the words are out of your mouth, but it somehow manages to hit all three of you.

“Princess, answer the question.” Why does your heart hurt more when Yoongi calls you that? Why does it feel like he’s taking your breath away and suffocating you with his calm demeanour, like he really doesn’t care even though his words should prove otherwise.

“I’m not your burden anymore, so leave me alone,” you glare at them both with all the strength you had left, feeling your body shake from the cold and the anger seeping under your skin. “I dismissed my bodyguards but that’s none of your concern.”

“You did what?” Namjoon is trying to control his rage but your words are causing it to grow. “How could you be so stupid? Do you have any idea the amount of danger you’re putting yourself in? Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep you safe and you’re throwing all our effort in our faces by being so fucking reckless!”

You always hated it when he told you off, you could feel the tears start to form again and Namjoon watched as your doe eyes looked up at him with the anger fading and the hurt revealing it’s way through. Shit, he was too harsh, but you were being an absolute idiot. All of them have been worried sick since they left you, unable to perform the best at their job, they all agreed after you no more long standing positions, so they only did small security gigs or transferring a client for a day. They missed you so much and here you were throwing yourself into every danger like a big ‘fuck you’.

“Why did you leave me?” Your voice is so small and the sheer hurt in it caused his anger to drop out of his body. Yoongi had to look away, he hated it when you cried, they all did.

They didn’t feel like they could hold you the way they used to, so much had changed, and yet all the feelings were the same.

“Princess we had to go,” he tries to explain. “We couldn’t keep you safe because of how much we lo- w-we cared about y-”

“No Joonie if you cared about me, you wouldn’t have left!” You were so angry and upset you were crying but you still yelled your words, you needed them to hear you and you’d make sure they did. “I thought I meant more to you than just a charge but you proved me wrong the day you walked out, because if you cared about me you’d fight to keep me safe, but you didn’t.”

You don’t care if you’re a sobbing mess in front of them now, you don’t care if you look weak, they had to feel what they did to you, see the consequences of their desicion.

Namjoon can’t say a word, how does he explains to you the guilt he felt that day, the only rational choice was to leave you in the hands of someone who could protect you the way he had failed. You came above all else, he couldn’t trust himself to keep you safe anymore.

“Do you know how hard it was for us to go,” it’s Yoongi that finds his voice. “We didn’t want to leave you Princess, we didn’t feel like we had a choice.”

“Bullshit!” You contended. “There’s always a choice and you made yours.”

You hug yourself to keep yourself together because in front of them both you can feel yourself begin to shatter.

“You left me when I needed you the most, and I won’t forgive you for it.”

If you tore into their chests and ripped out their hearts it would’ve hurt less. Yoongi sighs in defeat.

“Okay Y/n,” Namjoon could feel his eyes go red with the way he’s holding back his own tears, he and Yoongi were not ones to cry but he can’t miss the telltale glistening in the older man’s eyes, and how they mirrored his own with regret. “Let’s just get you home.”

“No I haven’t had enough to drink,” you move off the car and try to make your way back but there’s a strong hand holding you back by your arm.

“I think you’ve had plenty to drink,” Yoongi says while opening the backseat door.

How do you tell them you needed more so you’d black out tonight, otherwise your dreams would be filled with them.

——————————————————————————

The ride was quiet, no one wanted to say a word. The only break from silence was when Namjoon called Jin to ask him to meet you all at your place with a medical kit and you insisting it was not necessary.

They didn’t listen, but what was new?

It’s not Jin that meets the car running, but the youngest of your ex bodyguards with Jimin very close behind.

“Princess?” Jimin couldn’t believe your state, you looked like a mess. He helped you out of the car swallowing his own emotions.

Jungkook stared at you with his big eyes in shock, and you wanted the ground to swallow you up. You couldn’t meet his eyes, you could see a his own concoction of emotions swirl in them like a cocktail from the glimpse you got. Disbelief, anger, sadness, his Princess looked so broken.

When the decision was made to leave Jungkook was the one to fight it, he was the one that tried to convince the others it wasn’t a good idea, that you needed them and they needed you. He looked at Namjoon with so much anger but that could wait, he needed to make sure your were okay first.

He strides his way to you, picking you up like the Princess you were when you struggled to stand and carried you to the house.

“Kookie I can walk,” you mumble, but you felt so warm in his arms, you didn’t want him to let you go. You missed him so much, you missed them all.

“What the hell happened?” Jimin’s voice when he was angry was nothing like his usual tone, his voice became deeper and lost its musical ring.

Yoongi waved him off, starting to get a headache from the whole thing, “later.”

They take you to your bedroom where your life was turned upside down, Jin, Tae and Hobi were waiting for you there. They must’ve tidied up, you left the place in a tip.

Jungkook doesn’t place you on the bed, he sits on there instead not letting you out of his arms. The glare he sends the others is very clear, try to take her off me.

You’re starting to feel drained, the earlier screaming match completely wore you out, and you were feeling the effects of sleep deprivation. You don’t even realise how you’re leaning into Jungkook, but the position is familiar, like a key in a lock, and you can feel yourself drifting.

“Princess we need you to stay awake just a little longer okay?” Tae crouches down to meet your eyes, you can see the sadness in them even though he’s keeping a straight face. He can’t help but reach his palm out to feel your flushed cheeks, he wants to tell you he’s missed you, that they were all lost without you, but he knows it would hurt you more than they already had.

“Tae I’m tired,” you whine a little, the defences dropping now your body felt safe, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that you were still angry with them, you could almost pretend the last few months didn’t happen.

“Let her sleep, we’ve put her through enough,” Hobi sounded so serious from where he was watching you, back leaning against the wall, arms crossed like a teacher waiting for the class to settle. When Hobi was angry it scared you the most. Tae nodded at his hyungs words, offering you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes before moving away.

“First take these Princess,” Jin holds two pills in his palm and a glass of water, he brings them both to your lips, gently coaxing you to swallow. He wipes away the little spill you made down the side of your mouth, letting his fingers linger there for a second. He hasn’t been this close to you for so long, he doesn’t want to move away, but he does.

You nuzzle closer to the body holding you, clutching onto his shirt as you finally succumb to sleep. You can feel a cheek pressed against the top of your head, a promise written in the way he holds you tighter against him, but you were too far gone to decipher the words in the warmth of his arms, so you let your dreams take you instead.

#bts au #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #taehyung fanfic #bts scenarios #bts royal au #BTS bodyguard au #bts poly!au #bts polyamory #poly bts #bts poly #namjoon au #yoongi au #taehyung x reader #jimin au #seokjin x reader #jungkook angst #hobi au

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Page of Swords

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | three

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You attempt a new skill. Mando attempts to teach you.

Word count: 4.7k~

Rating: Mature

Warnings/tags: gun usage/mentioning throughout, mature language, pining, more dirty thots-ish, angst because why not, does this count as fluff? sure, gun kink if you squint w/o your glasses

Notes: As the reader (you/us) begins to become more familiar with Mando, his perspective starts bleeding in to the narrative, without a blocked off POV. Also, the reader’s past will start weaving (incoherently?) into the story as well. The large italicized chunks denote past tense interactions (which is probably obvious but who knows any more). Cheers x (gif credit: @djarinsgf)

A shot rings out.

Birds explode from the canopy with offended squawks, squalling in a winged flurry to scatter every which way until they recede again into the green, disappearing back into their hiding places. You groan. You thought you’d be better at this.

It’s not that you thought you were some sort of savant, you just didn’t expect to be this bad. Honestly, it’s embarrassing—you’re embarrassingly terrible— like statistically, you should have hit something by now, but you just keep missing—a crowded tree line in front of you, and not a scratch in sight—nary a singed branch nor a bullet holed trunk. It’s almost impressive how poor of a shot you are—and you would be, if you weren’t so damn exasperated with the whole affair. With a frustrated grunt, you throw your hands up, brandishing the weapon haphazardly.

“Careful,” Mando warns slyly, “you could hurt someone with that thing.”

“Yeah, well at least I’d hit something,” you grumble.

The kid had been fussy - almost unbearably so - in the weeks that followed your short stint on Bajic, and your party was itching for some time off the Razor Crest. After his third tantrum in a day, Mando decided to land on some unknown planet you couldn’t even spell to stretch your legs and take a breather.

You had almost sobbed when you saw him drag his menagerie of weaponry over. You knew what this meant, you knew what came next—his weekly, routine buff.

You think he’s doing it on purpose.

Ever since the first time, when you damn near had a conniption ogling him, you swear it’s like he’s doing it just to mess with you. He isn’t—of course he isn’t, rationally you knew that, in fact there was plenty of evidence to the contrary. He’s a Mandalorian—weapons are apart of his religion for kriff’s sake—but Maker does it seem intentional. Premeditated. It’s like you can feel the blistering ray of his gaze on you as he takes his time, roving a leathered hand over the bulge of the shaft—greasing it, stripping it, part by metal part…

It’s all in your head, you told yourself. It’s all in your fucking head and you need to get a grip.

Immediately you sprang into action, busying yourself with anything you could get your stupid, little hands on—in this case, being one of his many blasters.

“I wanna give it a go,” you said.

He let you, surprisingly. He hesitated, at first, his helmet tipping at a disbelieving angle. But he gave in—it took less effort on your part than you’d figured—and Mando conceded. He obliged.

How hard could it be? You thought.

Famous last words.

He’s parked there, settled on a throne of crates pushed flush to the Crest, slouched against the outer hull of the ship as he cleans, from the looks of it, every item in his arsenal—a front row seat to your pathetic endeavor and you’re failing—epically, ridiculously—shot after errant shot.

You line yourself up, scrunching your face in concentration as you bare the blaster in your hands. Maybe this time…

You fire off a round and an animal scampers scared in the thicket. Nothing. Another sublime miss.

You hear a noise come from Mando’s direction, something subtle like a blip of static through his helmet - Maker, he’s laughing at you - and you pivot around to him.

“What,” you ask, although it's less of a question and more of a griping pout. He replies with silence, that fickle language he's mastered to perfection all on his own, his focus pitched down to the bristled rod he’s driving in and out of his rifle, scouring out the residue from the inner barrel. “Ugh, what Mando?” you say, just shy of a whine, one hand slotted on your hip, the other dangling by your side, the pistol foreign and cumbersome in your grasp.

“Didn’t say anything,” he replies with a half shrug, his pauldrons shifting so imperceptibly you almost miss it. You pause, hurling him a look that misses him completely before you heave a frustrated sound.

“Fine, you show me how it’s done then.”

The T of his visor finds you. Its cold and unknowable as he rolls his helmet, tilting it up to you, hands slowing their ministrations to a rest. He’s wears a glare, carved into the steel hollow of the plates—unamused and smoldering—and with it, you feel small; microscopic and withering under his pointed gaze— suddenly too exposed in the open patch of jungled wilderness they’ve landed in and your mouth tweaks, teeth grazing the plush there. You assume he won’t do it. There’s no way he’ll rise to such obvious of a challenge, but he’s sighing—you can see it in the slant of his armor—and marching towards you before you can take it back, drawing closer and closer until Mando’s slated in front of you, expectant and postured and you forget— like the skip of a record, you forget why he’s even there— not a foot before you— and your eyes dance across his helm, flickering back and forth.

“May I?” he nods down to the pistol in your hand and you start - oh, shit - and offer it to him clumsily.

Mando squares off against the untamed green. The air lays hot and sticky around them. There is no trace of wind, no glimmer of breeze, and his cape hangs mute down his back. You’d never seen him fire his weapon. He surrounded himself with them, sure, always had at least two strapped to him at all times— probably even slept with one, you reckon— but you’ve never seen him use one.

With one solid movement, he cranes his arm, taking aim.

Now, you aren’t one to condone violence, but he just looks right doing it; an extension of himself with how natural it is, how innate— an added appendage, born unto him. The pistol looks good in his fist, like it couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else, the orange tips of his glove curling around the hilt, looping over that sensitive release.

He has practiced hands. Methodical. Sturdy. It’s sensual, to watch him like this. Pornographic even— sacrilege in a way. A part of you wants to look away and turn your gaze, grant him privacy as he handles the blaster— delicately, confidently. It’s intimate.

The pistol croons in his palm. She bends, supple and lilting. He knows just where to touch, where to stroke— she does anything he tells her. She melts for him.

Warmth pools in your mouth. Mando pulls the trigger.

He lands an impressive shot onto an impossibly narrow tree trunk nestled further in, and your features contort with amazement. Maybe you want to see it again—like a nosy neighbor peeping in through drawn curtains. Maybe you’re being reckless and smarmy, and maybe you know it. A Mandalorian’s got a gun in his hand and you’re prodding him - brilliant strategy, top marks - but your adrenaline is pumping something fierce and you feel yourself grow bold with each seize of your heart.

“Lucky shot,” you huff.

He pans to you, lolling his head, visor locked onto your face. Without flinching, without gracing you with a remark, he raises his arm and fires— doesn’t even have to kriffing look. The scorch mark sizzles - haughtily, jeering - no more than a few inches away from the first. You nearly choke on the arrogance of it— the lazy, smug performance— like he can’t be bothered with any of it, as if your taunts are all so beneath him.

You have to bite down on your lip to stop it from snaking into a wicked grin.

Mando offers the pistol back to you, flipping it grip-side up in a fancy flourish before striding - strutting - back to his post. You shake your head, a determined set to your jaw and you retake your aim, squinting in the hazy afternoon light, pulling the trigger— and nothing happens.

Again, click. Nothing, click after fruitless click. You make a face, pinching—

“Safety’s on.”

You flush, thanking the Maker that your back is towards him, and switch it down with your thumb. “Right,” you mumble sheepishly, wetting your lip. You align your sights, bracing yourself for the impact—

“It’s your stance.”

Three words.

Three words, the only solace Mando provides before devoutly returning to his work.

You wait for him to elaborate, to edify you— for any manner of sage advice— but the explanation never comes; he leaves you like this, marooned with three fucking words and you have to screw your eyes shut. This man is baffling— maddeningly unhelpful— infuriatingly sparse. It makes you want to howl and rip your hair out— and you whip around violently.

“What about my st-”

Your question comes scampering to a halt, tail between your legs, throat gone dry. Mando has planted himself directly behind you— standing so close you can see your reflection in his beskar, see the blush blurring your cheek under the alien sun.

“What uh, what about my stance?” you ask, mousier now, swallowed up by the sheer size of him so near to you.

“It’s not wide enough.”

You glance down at your feet before looking back up to him. “What do you mean?”

“Turn around,” he says.

You quirk your brow at him before he repeats himself. “Turn around and spread your legs. Hips distance apart.”

Fuck, he has no business sounding like that— like bourbon and smoke and iron tang—but you do as he says. You’re shakier than you want to be— you wish you could be cool and collected but you’re not. You’re anything but, and you’re nervous. Maker, Mando makes you nervous— it’s not just the weapon in your hand, it’s him— setting you off and giving you butterflies like you’re some sort of forlorn schoolgirl. You’re a grown woman, and this is what he’s rendered you to— jittery, molten mush. It’s embarrassing. Fucking mortifying.

You guess it’s the day for it.

He doesn’t touch you, but it hardly matters; you can sense him there all the same, a shadow in your peripheral. He leaves a thick breath of space between your bodies and with your back towards him, you can feel the waves of heat radiate off the bounty hunter, pulsing out out out from him and it’s almost intolerable— as if you’ve flown too close to the sun, waxed wings melting in pearled streaks down your spine.

You scuttle your feet open, parting just outside your hips.

“Arms up,” he says, and you hoist them into position. You’re sure you look as awkward as you feel, if not more, all the angles of your body feeling perfectly wrong and misplaced. “Relax your elbows,” he adds, and you do— you try to, at least.

“Too much. Somewhere in between.”

You try again, strengthening through your triceps and down your forearms.

“Better,” Mando gives. You think you feel him nodding approvingly behind you. “The important-”

Kriff, you panic.

You spin towards him, dropping your form and cutting him off with a humbled, worried look, throwing up barricades and hurdles— landmines for him to dodge. Or step on.

“Wait hey Mando, you don’t- I don’t want to take up your time,” you begin.

“You aren’t.”

“I’m serious, I don’t want to bother you with this.”

“You’re not.”

You blink.

“If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right.”

He speaks so plainly, unvarnished and matte— unflinchingly earnest in a way that gives you pause. It leaves no wiggle room for interpretation and you sigh, defeated, shoulders slumping as you haul yourself back around.

“Arms up,” he reiterates, but there’s no malice there; he sounds kind— untroubled. It always surprises you how mild he can be— Mando should be anything but, he’d have every reason to, but he’s calm. Patient. You wonder if he even realizes it, if he even recognizes the tenor of his own voice— how gentle it can be— under the helmet. Despite it.

“Think of your posture as firm, without tensing,” Mando explains. “Soften your knees, don’t lock them— same goes for your arms— don’t stiffen against the recoil, let your body absorb it.”

You mirror what he coaches, shooting him a curious, hopeful look over your shoulder.

“There. Good,” he says. “Now, which is your dominant eye?”

Your arms fall down to your sides. “My what?”

“Dominant eye.”

You give him a baffled look like he’s speaking another language - in all fairness, he is - and Mando emits another puff of air through his modulator, chortling.

“Eye dominance. We’re all either right handed or left handed. Eyes work the same— right eyed or left eyed. We favor one or the other— you’ll focus that one to aim.”

Oh, huh.

You still appreciatively, basking in the novelty of the information. “Really? I didn’t know that. That’s- that’s actually pretty interesting,” you muse. “Brains and brawn, huh?” You flash a cheeky grin back at him.

Mando grunts, nondescript and unaffected and robotic but he swears he can feel pink creep over his clavicle, tainting the tan of his skin concealed there.

He fits his gloved hand over yours, if only for a second, and you do your best to ignore the rough patch of his leather grazing against the thin flesh there. You try to ignore the chill that sweeps across the curve of your waist, how the peach fuzz prickles up, electrified and magnetized, as he unfurls your fingers from the gun, letting it slip from your grasp. He tucks it under his arm, keeping it pinned there with his bicep.

“Hold your hands out like this.” Mando shows you, creating an oval with his fingers— like a view finder or a scope. You mimic him, feeling like every bit of an idiot, but you don’t contradict him— you do as he does. “Now, set your focus out on a fixed point through your hands,” he instructs and you do, setting your sights on a gnarled tree branch.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it,” you respond.

“Now alternate closing each eye. The image should stay in the frame with one, and then shift out of it with the other.”

You frown, concentrating, and close the right before blinking over to the left— kriff, he’s right.

“Oh shit,” you mumble. “My left. It’s my left eye.”

“You sure?”

You check again, squinting through either eye, the tree bouncing in and out of the frame of your fingers. “Mhm. Yeah, my left eye keeps it centered.”

He makes a thoughtful sound. “Left eyed but right handed. Interesting,” Mando murmurs.

You glance up to him, dropping your hands. “Why is that interesting?”

“Not common. The brain’s typically wired the same way all the way down— one side of the body will be dominant. It’s not usually split.”

“You telling me my brain doesn’t work properly, Mando?” you quip dryly.

“You said it, not me.”

He holds the blaster out to you and you swipe it from him with a huffed snort, returning towards the tree line and stars your face hurts. Your face hurts and it’s burning with this asinine smile that’s digging mercilessly into your cheeks. It makes you want to massage your jaw, get the damn thing to relax. Honestly, it makes you want to give yourself a slap.

“Make sure to cross your center with it. Line it up towards the left.”

“Maker, do you think about all this every time you shoot?” you ask, mystified, as you fix your aim.

“Muscle memory takes over eventually. You’ll get there with enough practice.” Mando replies gruffly and you guffaw, loud and wonderfully ugly. You seriously doubt it.

After a series of very near misses— you are getting closer, you’ll give yourself that— your arms grow tired; the joints and muscles protest as you extend them out from your body, taut and tense— the gun dead weight in your wobbly hands.

Your shoulder smarts where you injured the tendon in the explosion. You roll it out, earning snaps and pops as it notches over the bone there. They told you you were lucky. They congratulated you - it’s not a complete tear! - and it’s on the mend well enough, but it’s weak. It doesn’t matter the weight of the object.

The longer you hold anything, the heavier it feels.

You suppose you could throw in the towel at any point, but the fact of the matter— as terrible and true as it may be— is you want to impress him. That awful, nagging feeling— you want to impress the Mandalorian. You want him proud of you— you want to be nice and shiny for him to admire, like one of the guns he polishes until it’s sparkling, until he can mount it on display and show it off. It’s absolutely nauseating— but you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to, and you don’t. You don’t want to.

He isn’t blind to it. He sees the exertion, the tax— how beads of sweat congress around your temples, dampening the base of your scalp, butterfly kissing your skin with a sheen. A trail of wet salt, one lone pilgrim, ventures down the back of your neck, wandering lower and lower, past the hem of your shirt, disappearing into the soft valley of your spine where Mando can’t follow. His throat bobs rough against his cowl.

Transferring the pistol into one hand, you shake out the other, flexing through it and relaxing your grip.

“Wait,” he says and you cock your head back at him. Mando’s retreating to his pile of guns, rifling through the metal anthill before selecting something sleek and chrome. “Here,” you exchange pistols, giving him back the bulkier of the two. Immediately you feel the relief of this new one— it’s lighter and smaller, slighter in your grasp, too— and you turn it over in your hands, noting the way the nozzlelike barrel glitters in the sun.

You’d almost consider it pretty if it weren’t a literal killing machine.

“That’s a CDEF model. Lightweight, reliable, Dedlanite casing, standard issue for CorSec officers.”

You nod along, as if you have any clue what he’s talking about— you don’t. You really, truly don’t.

“Should be easier.”

“Mm,” you hum out in ignorant agreement, slotting your arms back up into position.

“Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” You rest it against the slide of the barrel, hovering nearby.

Mando shifts closer towards you, the grass grinding under his feet as he takes a half step in to your backside.

“Breathe. Don’t hold it in. Let me hear it.”

Fuck, this feels like a sin; this small gap of distance he’s erected between you as tense, as strained and feverish, as whispered confessions in the dark. Like sneaking back into your parent’s house late at night— the morning moon peering down at you with a heavy lidded gaze— knowing, knowing, keeping your secrets to herself, pressing them to her chest, winking sleepily.

It would be so much easier, so much simpler, if he just put his hands on you. Placed your body where he knows it should be, force you into the shapes and positions he’s so intimate with himself, but he doesn’t. He draws it out. He respects your space and autonomy and it makes it worse. Your imagination fills the void separating you two, and it’s running wild and rampant and depraved and—

“Focus,” he utters, his voice no louder than a purr. You’ve never heard something so mechanical make a sound so deliriously smooth, and you have to suppress a nervous scoff. Focus, he says, as if he isn’t suffocating you with how close he’s standing— as if you aren’t enjoying it— as if you aren’t vibrating down to your very bones at the proximity of the bounty hunter—so close, you bet he can hear them, rattling and slapping against each other deep beneath your skin.

“Remember what I said about your posture,” he suggests quiet-like and murmured, without a trace of condescension there—a harmless reminder. You make the adjustment, fixing your shoulders down your back, and release the stress in your arms.

“Firm without tensing,” you respond under your breath—more for your sake than his— striking it from your mental checklist.

“‘Atta girl.”

No.

No no no, Maker, you feel it. You can fucking feel it—how something low and resonant spasms beyond your belly, the clench of your empty cunt at the encouragement—the heady praise of it all.

Atta girl.

He said it softly - rudely husky - just above a whisper, something tailored specifically for you—almost like it slipped from his lips and he didn’t even notice its passing. It meandered out of him, so easy—too easy. It practically sauntered.

You’re trembling— stars, you hope Mando doesn’t see it. It’s humid and muggy and yet you’re shaking as if it’s freezing, as if you’ve got icicled snot dripping from your nose, and your nerves go haywire, fraying in every direction as you sip in a whistled breath.

You can do this. You can do this. Focus.

“Take the shot,” he orders.

Focus.

Pressing into the slope of the trigger, you fire.

You gasp excitedly— a surprised, whooping laugh tearing through you and you whip around, giddy and beaming - bright, beautiful - a lock of hair sticking to your lip. It’s the youngest, the freest, Mando’s ever seen you; maybe the happiest, too, and his stomach twists at the sight, a tourniquet cinching around him, winding and coiling until he’s convinced it’ll burst. His fingers twitch, every instinct begging him— demanding him— to reach out and return the stray strand behind your ear alongside the others but you beat him to it. Deftly, you flit it away yourself instead, and he’s relieved.

Devastated, too. Gutted.

“Did you see that?” you ask, gleeful as a child.

He pries himself off you, dragging his gaze over your shoulder to where you struck the trunk, a coaled mark charred there into the bark, before returning his attention back to you. You meet his eyes, despite the blackness of his helm— you hold them, for a breathless, ageless moment, you hold him there.

“Not bad.”

He can’t muffle the jolt of his heart as it rumbles through his chest, breaking his mouth wide open into an aching smirk. He doesn’t know if you hear it. He fears you might.

He prays you do.

///

“Cooling vents,”

Metal scrapes against the table as you place the delicate bits down, deconstructing the blaster. The Mandalorian nods, silent as a specter.

“Gas refill valve,”

Another clunk.

“Actuating blaster…” You turn over a particularly knobby bulb before peeking up at Mando through your lashes, a wry grin tugging rosy and coy at your lips. “… thing-”

“Module,” Din corrects.

“Module, right, that’s what I said.”

He sits across the galley from you, arms folded over his chest as he eases back against the hull of the ship, overseeing as you take apart the blaster, the slender little thing he gave to you - he rarely uses it anyways - as you name the pieces and parts just like he’s taught you.

“Keep it,” he told you.

You resisted. You fought it, laughed it off incredulously— stubborn to the end— argued you wouldn’t even have a need for it.

“What am I gonna do with a gun, Mando?” you balked, and Maker he’d hoped you’d never have to use it, would never have to see a firefight in your damn life let alone be in the middle of one, but he wants you to have it— have a part of him, strapped to your hip— the closest he’ll get.

He’s selfish. Din is a greedy, selfish man. He wants to see himself on you, wants you to carry him around like a souvenir from something unforgettable— something irreplaceable— a memory like warm bathwater you dip into long after it passes, and he’ll take whatever he can get— just like you, hungry for anything you’re gracious enough to feed him. And fuck, if he doesn’t hate it— doesn’t want to bury that feeling, cold and lifeless, six feet under the earth. No ceremony. No elegies. Dead and gone, returning to the dust from whence it came, crawling back into the ribcage it sprung from.

Din said your name. Firm— gentle, too.

“Keep it.”

They’ve been at this ever since you managed to hit the target that first time. Hours have passed, dawdling by on the fat little legs of a toddler, plodding and slow. The sun had set, and winged bugs the length of your palm had taken up residency in the dark rainforest, making themselves known with a haunting tune, screeching and singing into the lush wood. After the child had tried making a pass at one, no doubt in the mood for a quick snack - isn’t he always - you had agreed to retire back inside the Crest.

You were so excited, your whole face lit up— like fireworks he remembered once, through the eyes of a boy in the summered night— and you wanted more; like a sponge, sopping up all you could, sucking Din in and ringing him out for it and fuck, he couldn’t say no.

He can’t say no to you.

You start prattling out questions about everything and nothing - what blaster do you prefer, do you have a favorite rifle, what’s the difference between plasma and gas charges, you have a flamethrower on your wrist? - and before long you get him lecturing, going on about weapon safety and trigger discipline and slide bites and ammunition rounds and gun brands and serial numbers and Din knows this isn’t you. You’re a borderline pacifist for kriff’s sake— he’s almost certain that if push came to shove, you’d rather lay down your life than take one. You’re no gunslinger, and you don’t hold any aspirations to become one.

But here you are, fist tucked under your chin and leaning in to him, hanging off his every word.

You have no personal interest in weapons. Frankly you’d be pleased if you never held a gun again in your life. No, and whether Mando realizes it or not, you want to know because it’s him. You want to know him. And maybe it’s because its the most he’s given to you since you stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest— almost a month, and what you’ve gotten from him today alone has been more than he’s given in weeks— not a door so much as it is a window into his life, an allowance, a glimpse behind the beskar. Its more attention, more words and insights, more tiny gestures and maybe you’ve been a little starved for it— maybe you’ll eat up any scraps Mando tosses with a calloused glove, molded and rotting, from his plate.

Even if it’s this, even if its fucking firearms.

You want to know.

It’s who you are: it doesn’t matter what someone’s passionate about, you’re interested in their interests. You care what they care about. If they matter, then it matters. It’s who you are, webbed and weaved into the innermost fabric of your being, and you can’t pretend to be anything else; you don’t know how to unbecome.

You’re splayed before him— a bleating heart, kaleidoscoping and blooming and twisting in his hands. If only you could pry open your chest— turn yourself inside out at the seams, spill yourself to splatter, sanguined and slippery right there on the deck. You’d do it, if you could.

Am I loving enough  Am I giving enough  Have I paid my debts  Am I worth this now, finally— Worth that which I offer, have I earned it back

So effortless, this vignette, seated here in his galley, dismembering a blaster and labeling the parts, terminology klutzy on your tongue— tripping over yourself just to get it out— looking to him for hints and clues, fluttering your doe eyes with cartoonish bats.

He answers. You laugh. He smiles.

The kid is in his pram, entranced by all the shiny baubles and bobbins just out of his reach - thank the Maker -  and giggles at their little game— happy, for once, just to watch.

You and me both kid, Din thinks. You and me both.

#king of cups #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female oc #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x female oc #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #star wars #din djarin #din djarin smut #mando smut #star wars fanfic #slow burn #slow build #fic rec #writing #gun kink #angst #mutual pining #soft!din #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x female oc #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #no y/n

[ohheyitsokay]

found

pairing: Paz Vizsla x reader

wordcount: 3.3k

warnings: brief mentions of cannon typical violence, the general awkwardness of writing a new character, fluff

summary: you're someone surprisingly good st finding lost things, and you find a Mandalorian - who's looking for home

<<

Trying to get over my need to over explain things by leaving random plot holes. Don’t think about it too hard.

The charred remnants of the base were in tragic, disorganized, smoking piles all around you.

Feet still, you breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth, too tired to be in awe of what had taken place, too overwhelmed to realize that you were unscathed.

When a figure stepped out from behind one of the heaps, only your eyes moved, impressed in spite of yourself that they had managed to stay silent. It was a being barricaded in armor, solid like they were carved from the mountain around you, but blue, shockingly, wonderfully, beautifully blue.

You wondered if you had it in you to fight him.

It hadn’t been so long ago, that you’d met other Mandalorians – their helmets so full of pompous you wondered how they could fly. As he walked closer, you noticed that he did not look like them, did not hold his chin so high it begged to be knocked with the blunt end of a weapon. There was pride in his shoulders still, but no more than was in yours, and he approached you with empty hands.

“What happened here?” his voice had a rumble but he seemed curious, not disbelieving or angry.

“I tricked them,” you told him, and you were surprised to find yourself unafraid of telling him plainly. “I was looking for a missing flock of sant birds, and found them plumping the bellies of imperial troops.” You gestured loosely to a sparse gaggle of silly little beaked creatures tied a string toward the edge of the rubble. “I muddled the communication signals until they believed there was an incoming attack, and their would-be rescuers believed their own troops were the enemy.”

The Mandalorian's back straightened slightly and his helmet tilted.

“You did that for sant birds?”

“I have no love for imps or those who take what is not theirs,” it came out defensive, although he hadn’t belittled your choice. “It was more effective than I expected, but there were not many living who are not anymore, just droids.”

“You are one who finds what it lost?” there was a question there, but not one spoken aloud, and the subtext screamed.

“Can I help you find something, Mandalorian?”

His shoulders rose slightly - just a hair, really - and you couldn’t sworn his helmet dipped.

“Yes.”

-

Your fingers danced along the buttons and levers of the ship’s control panels, waiting for a command from your mind that would never come. They moved when you thought, searching for a memory – you couldn’t help it.

Next to you, Paz watched, amused as your sharp eyes were unfocused, mouth open just slightly with unspoken words.

“What are you thinking of, little one?” he asked, as quiet as he could manage, snapping you back to the present.

“When we first met,” you turned to him with a smile that made him fidget in his seat. It baffled him, how good you were, and how steady you’d been by his side.

Paz didn’t respond with words, just a thoughtful hum as he watched the stars race by in streaks. You didn’t know, but he was a little embarrassed by it – how enraptured he’d been by you, how quickly he trusted you.

After being separated from his clan, injured and angry, he had spent months stewing and brewing plans for finding his brethren again to no avail. Paz even hitched rides with strangers and picked up less than ideal work, hoping for something of his people to point him in the right direction.

Still healing, he settled on a little planet known for its rumors, known for spreading and sharing information so fresh it hadn’t had time to be twisted. It was there that he waited for words of Mandalorians, met the… other clans, and it was where he heard of you.

On the surface you weren’t remarkable, the whispers said, just a traveler with an uncanny ability to find lost things, and just smart enough to bend the world to your will and just slippery enough to stay one step ahead of genuine trouble. They said you were caring and cunning and clever and had a knack for judging a person’s character. From word alone he liked that, liked you.

The farmer who owned the barn he was sleeping in told Paz that he had asked you to find an old necklace of his mothers. A day later, both the necklace and a long lost sister were joining them for dinner, and you shrugged off both the thanks and the payment with a smile. Paz knew, because he had heard you distantly, through the weathered slats of the barn, and it stayed with him.

The dismissive words reminded him of home - the first reminder that wasn’t painful - evoking moments that were sweeter than the ache of loss. He would have said the same thing, when the Mandalorian’s who were not warriors requested his help. It wasn’t strict custom, but the way, to accept meals instead of money, stories instead of useless metal. Your actions, words, and far-away laughter reminded him of his home.

And when he found you, uninjured, a glint of satisfaction in your eyes and pride in your shoulders as you spoke casually about justice he couldn’t go back. You were almost glowing in the light of the still smoldering embers, gorgeous and determined and he knew he only had one choice – one shot take you with him.

Paz wasn’t in the habit of making promises he wasn’t absolutely sure he keep but he made himself one that day, buried it like a time capsule somewhere in his chest.

And then immediately put it to the test, by testing you.

He looked over at you, your hands now fiddling with your chair, and he fought the urge to mimic the movements. “I evaluated you,” he hoped you could hear that he was smiling.

You snorted, an impolite noise that made want to laugh.

Standing, you widened you stance comically lifting your limbs in an effort to be bigger, mocking him and saying “If I hire you, little one, I must know that I can trust you,” in an exaggerated tone. The exact words he’d told you after his test was over, something you teased him about often. Paz was laughing, but he wondered if you liked how deep his voice was – it was the key change to your mimicry. Looking satisfied with yourself, you settled down again, reminiscing.

The test had been to accompany him on a mission he’d picked up for extra cash – there were plenty of opportunities to be reckless but you gambled with neither his life nor your own. It was one of those circumstances where you were moving and guarding cargo for a rich young diplomat. He told you afterwards he wanted to see if you’d pocket anything beyond your payment, and of course you hadn’t.

“I passed with flying colors.”

The mission had veered left, when a misinformed bounty hunter pressed the tip of a blaster against your throat. At the time you were nearly strangers, but you didn’t give him up, even when you realized the bounty hunter was looking for a woman.

Paz was as in awe of you then as he was now. You agreed to help him the remnants of his clan, and to travel with him, and his promise to himself remained intact.

He nodded.

-

When he was young, Paz had a sweetheart, a kind Mandalorian girl with whom he enjoyed spending time with. It fizzled as apprenticeships and training were traded politics and responsibilities, and he had always had fond memories of that time.

It paled in comparison to how he felt about you.

You had been searching on your own for something you swore would help your search, and had been gone for days. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was certain now – what you were to him was infinitely more than anything else he had ever known. Still, he felt like a schoolboy, missing you, glancing at the door to the ship with eagerness every time he heard a creak.

He had thought for weeks it was because you felt like home, had been sure it was your ease with mando'a and his culture that made take to you like a duck to water. It made sense, he reasoned with himself. Of course he missed his family, those he was raised alongside, the very people who gave him purpose in life - of course he was looking for any scrap or taste of that wherever he could get it. Nevermind that your smile made him feel like he’d been stunned, it was just because your personal culture fit his like pieces of his armor.

Anyone would have been pleased, half smitten with someone who allowed then onto their ship, especially one as functional as yours. It was perfectly reasonable that he was comfortable with you, since you were always so thoughtful and honest and caring.

And you were talented, useful, that was all. The reason he valued you so highly was that you made his life easier, matched him step to step and balanced out his strength.

But that was all over now. It was special, how well you fit with him, and not to be taken lightly the vulnerability you gave as you shared your space and rations and time with him. All those other things were true, certainly, tenfold the longer you stayed in his company, but he could no longer explain away how much lighter his heart felt when you trotted into the ship, windblown hair and triumphant eyes.

He wanted you to be by his side, preferably if you wanted to be there.

Standing, he moved towards you, wishing he could hug you as you unceremoniously dumped your supplies on the floor. Instead, he picked them up, piling them or putting them back where they belong as you both filled each other in onto the days passed.

Eventually, the suspense overflowed, your excitement bubbling out of you.

“I got it!” your voice did something when you were excited that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it made him smile.

“Got what?” Paz swallowed a cyar'ika.

Eagerly, you produced a small drive and plugged it into the display, saying, “A map!” with pride.

“We already have a map,” That time, he nearly choked on the mesh'la his instincts insisted on, looking at you with genuine confusion.

When you grabbed his gloved hand, he thought he might never let it go.

“Not one like this, Paz.” You turned to the floating miniatures, and he only watched your face under their glow a moment longer before he tore himself away to look as well.

It was distracting, how close you stepped to him as you pointed, but your words were thick with value.

The map had details of Mandalorian sightings and rumors and stories. Even more than that, many of the planets had extra information tacked on, about resource numbers. Paz drank them in, your excitement finally making sense as he realized you were starting to highlight the ones where imported goods didn’t match the populations reported. Your voice was telling him you’d find them soon, that for him, you would do whatever it takes. His longing had become yours, in this little ship half buried in the dirt, under the expanse of the sky.

His hand found your shoulder, gently turning you and carefully, carefully, he hugged you.

-

The first three planets they chased were driven by pure, unadulterated excitement. He was eager for his brothers, eager to go back to protecting those who raised him and those who were being raised alike. Eager to be home, wherever that may be.

But as the weeks wore on, a realization settled in his mind. Finding home would mean your job was complete – his loss would be you, instead of his tribe.

And he did not like that thought at all.

It became a harsh contrast to his eagerness, as jarring as cool water cracking over heated metal, raising a stink that made his eyes threaten to fill. With each lead the two of you chased, there was a twist in his gut, anticipation suddenly less solid in his heart.

Your ship was nice, cozy and reliable, and he had filled his bunk with anything he found in the markets that reminded him of home. In between searches, you always managed to find the littlest work for the highest pay off – and really, work for a Mandalorian and his lovely, cunning companion was more than available. It was nice, filling your little kitchenette with foods you had introduced to him, and whatever he could get his hands on of the ingredients from his memories.

It wasn’t the same as his old home, with the people and culture who had shaped him, but it was something, and he… liked it, a lot.

He had gotten used to you, the way when his frustration built how you’d match it when he needed to, or lock him in a room with a pile of rations, or slip your hand between the gaps of his armor and rub circles with your thumb. Once he’d gotten in his head about the Mandalore, gone so far he wanted to fight everything that moved, maybe even stop some of them from breathing. You walked right up to him, wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your weight on him until he remembered to breathe. And he didn’t really think anyone else in the galaxy would’ve done that.

So how could he give that up?

-

There was an elderly woman, Kori, who had missed the battle. Paz told you excitedly that she was fierce and had fought the armorer for the right to travel, unaware of the trouble that followed his brother-in-arms and the child.

You had set up the meeting at a little cantina you knew, and watched as Paz paced around your ship in his newly polished armor.

The last few months with him had been like a dream – and you had never been more selfish. When you’d met this Mandalorian you had been in awe, despite the previous encounters with the beskar-clad race. More than his formidable size, he cared fiercely, almost seeming larger by the passion that filled his frame.

And the more time you spent listening to his stories, why it all mattered so much to him, and having him listen to you in turn, the more thankful you were that he found you, and continued to let you help him in his search. He didn’t need you, not really. The man was resourceful and intimidating and held himself with the confident grace of a predator - it would have been just as easy for him to take what he wanted and be on his way.

It was strange, how his blood was equal parts humble and proud, but you were drawn to it, intoxicated by him. No one had ever made you feel as protected as he did, as… valuable as he treated you, and you ached for him. You couldn’t bear not to help him as much as you could, but you already knew you would miss your long nights spent talking or the way his gloved hand would grab yours like it was his second nature.

When it was time for the meeting, you had put extra care into your appearance, as if it would matter, wanting to make a good impression. Your companion stopped, and looked you over, and your feet shifted on the bumpy ramp of your ship.

Paz rumbled, as he had the first time you’d met, saying, “What is this?”

It made you laugh, sometimes, that someone so powerful and in control could be so awkward at times.

“Is it bad?” you quipped, trying to sound as though you did not care what he thought. In truth, he was the only one you had ever wanted so badly to think you were attractive.

Paz made a small noise, one you thought you recognized as annoyed, and you turned in time to see his helmet shaking and his shoulders tense.

“Mesh'la,” his voice was lower than normal. Logically you should’ve expected it, but it was amazing, almost overwhelming how his hand enveloped your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. It was warm, and you felt selfish for wondering how much moreso it would be without his gloves.

And then a moment later the touch broke and he was hurrying to the cantina with you at his heels.

Kori was there, and they embraced. She greeted you kindly, but you kept your distance as they talked.

You settled at the bar, trying not to mourn a relationship that was hardly more than friendship, as you felt the eyes of someone on the back of your neck. It was a familiar feeling, and you turned, assuming it was Paz – but finding a man making his way over to you instead.

He was handsome, too tight clothes stretched over the muscles of his chest and a sweet, crooked smile. It made you think, maybe a distraction wouldn’t be so bad – and it wasn’t, at first. The guy was nice, attractive and charming and respectful enough that you let yourself actually enjoy his company. You almost didn’t feel the Mandalorians watching you – and you certainly didn’t see your Mandalorian's hands clench on the table.

-

Paz had hardly said a word to you since he dragged you back to the ship. He knew it was making you anxious, knew you were already waiting for him to start packing, knew you deserved some type of explanation as to what was happened but he just couldn’t.

For the very first time in his life he was petrified of getting the words wrong, desperate to say everything as right as be possibly could.

He wasn’t trained in this – they would say it was the way and move on, or have heated conversations driven by what they knew was right. Mandalorians weren’t … tactful, tentative, tender people, but Maker, did he want to be, for you.

You, in your nice clothes, settled in a crate, watching him and waiting, looking just touch guilty.

It’s not your fault, he wanted to say. It was his, for not being honest sooner. For letting you think he wasn’t head over heels in love with you, for letting you believe he would, could leave you. But he was angry, at himself and at the karking boy for thinking he had any right you make you smile like that.

Angry that it took Kori one look to know what he had spent weeks denying, to unearth the promise he'd made himself about keeping you close.

Angry it took her hand on his fists, and her quite, “Home is where the heart is, adi'ka,” for him to realize.

And when Paz was angry, words slipped past his tongue back down his throat like bitter medicine, and he couldn’t make it stop. He was a man who had spent years of his life in absolute control over every muscle in his body but he always failed with one, the one that seemed to matter most.

In the end, he remembered to do what he wished you would do – he pulled you into him, pressing he forehead of his helmet against yours.

In a moment, he could explain himself, tell you he loved you, ask you to let him stay. In a moment he would thank you for finding him.

But for now, he watched as the confusion cleared from your eyes before they closed and your mouth pulled into a smile, and didn’t run from the pride that filled him from head to toe.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #star wars #the mandalorian #maybe i don't know people

[unsettlingconclusions]

Piano Sonata n08

Pairing: Hana Lee x MC (Riley) Summary:  Riley was no expert in classical music but she easily sensed the tempo was increasing erratically, notes were missing and some of them sounded just downright wrong. It was unlike Hana to play carelessly, disregarding rhythm and accuracy. It could only mean one thing, Hana was furious. Set during TRH3. Genre: Hurt/comfort. Angst? Rating: T Word Count: 1600+ Notes: In honor of the CG of Hana crying </3  This was sitting around my filled with spider’s webs AO3 profile. Written while listening to  Mussorgsky's "A Night on Bald Mountain" if anyone is interested in feeling the pure rage. Fic title refers to Beethoven's Piano Sonata no 8, the 1st movement. The last piece mentioned is Hungarian Rhapsody no 02, by Liszt. Riley stands at the threshold of the music room. The heavy sounds of agitated music pierce the air, filling it with something... intense. Yes, intense would be an appropriate way to describe it. The stiffness in her stance, the way Hana's body moved, her tense expression... all of it screamed rage.

Although Riley was no expert in classical music, she easily sensed the tempo was increasing erratically, notes were missing and some of them sounded just downright wrong. It was unlike Hana to play carelessly, disregarding rhythm and accuracy. It could only mean one thing, Hana was furious.

She had to be. A few hours ago, Barthelemy had just walked out the door of their home carrying away their daughter and there was nothing they could do to stop it. It enraged Riley as well, made her blood boil with fury, her skin burn a thousand degrees. She wanted badly to just bolt and take her family with her, go wherever. But she knew this cluster would follow her anywhere. They needed to take Barthelemy down for good.

So she and Hana devised a plan alongside their friends to do so through Godfrey and everyone would leave for Auvernal in the morning. After that was settled, the heaviness of the day they just had started to take its toll and make way for exhaustion. Once Riley and Hana helped their friends settle in for the night, Hana excused herself claiming she was too agitated to go to sleep yet. She might not have said it with words but Riley was perceptive enough to notice Hana meant she needed a moment to herself.

That was something she could understand. Hana had an overall sweet and kind disposition, but that was not to say those were the only emotions she was familiar with. However, her upbringing did not allow her to properly know how to express anything else and she had a tendency to either shut down or deal with it all by herself, often involving quiet, solitary brooding, and an over rationalizing attitude.

Out of respect for her, Riley gave her space. And a few minutes soon turned hours, prompting Riley to go looking out after her wife; she was not about to let the woman she loved dive into misery land. She took a wild guess Hana would either be by the lake or the piano room, and soon enough the sound of a haunting melody pierced through her ears.

Usually, when Riley would find Hana playing, she'd inconspicuously move closer and quietly sit nearby, enjoying the feeling of being let in into something so intimately Hana's. But tonight she was not seeing beauty or contemplation, she wasn't feeling closer to Hana... She was seeing madness, and one that imposed high mountains surrounding her wife.

The hell they had to face ahead of them was brutal, vicious and cruel. This was no time for madness. Madness wouldn't solve the issue, if anything it would make them reckless, and that would mean playing the part Barthelemy expected them to play. No, there could be absolutely no madness!

"Hana", Riley calls out to her once, then twice, to no avail. "Hana!" She calls again, more forcefully this time, but her pleas were still met with no response. "Hana, snap out of it!" Riley nearly screams this time, smashing her own hands against the piano keys, her body trembling with indignation.

"WHAT?" Hana halts abruptly, shooting an angry glare at Riley. “What do you want, Riley? What could you possibly want that I could possibly do right now?” She goes back to playing a little less erratically this time, her eyes focusing on the piano keys, and Riley could feel her still reeling of anger. “I couldn’t protect our daughter, what’s left for me to do?”

“We get her back, Hana. I need you to work with me on this. Fight with me.” Riley replies, awkwardly leaning over the piano trying to block Hana away from the keys.

It’s Hana’s turn to smash her hands against the piano keys now, pushing the bench forcefully back while abruptly getting up. “I’m enraged, Riley, I want his head served to me with his blood. I want to tear it off myself!” She paces back and forth across the length of the piano room, every inch of her body trembling, her hands picking nervously at the sides of her head. “I want to feast on his flesh and throw him to lions!”

Riley steps up, blocking Hana’s path as she grabs both Hana’s wrists with her own hands, trying to calm her wife down at the same time as trying to tame her own anger. “What do you think I want?” She barks, narrowing her eyes and forcing Hana to look at her. “Do you think I’m not pissed off myself? I’m furious, Hana.”

Hana struggles to get out of Riley’s grasp, but Riley wouldn’t budge. “Let go of me, Riley.” Hana says as she continues struggling. “Please.”

“No.”

“Just let me go!”

“No! I won’t leave you, Hana.”

The anger in Hana’s eyes starts to slowly subside as it gives way to frustration and exasperation. After a few more failed attempts at releasing herself, Hana’s whole demeanor changes and what Riley sees instead is even worse. It’s... despondency. Riley lets go of Hana’s wrists and engulfs her in a crushing hug.

“I love you, Hana. We will get her back, ok? I promise you, I promise you we’ll get her back.” Riley says over and over again, instilling hope or whatever she could in her wife. Hana responds by holding onto Riley for dear life, her body shaking as she starts sobbing. The force with which Hana’s fingers is digging into her skin is verging on painful, but Riley endures it. It can’t be more painful than the ache Hana was feeling inside, then what she herself was feeling inside.

“I can’t imagine not raising her, not seeing her every day, not being there for all her milestones, to sooth her when she cries.” Hana rubs one of her hands in her eyes, fighting back her tears and not entirely releasing her hold on her wife. “What are we gonna do without her, Riley? How are we supposed to do this?”

“It’s not going to happen, Hana. We will get her back.”

“She must be so afraid, Riley, so scared. Just thinking about it is driving me insane.”

Riley couldn’t go there. The thought was unbearable. It was bad enough that someone took away their child, but adding in that he was a traitor and a murderer was too much to handle. She couldn’t allow herself to despair thinking of how scared Aurora was. No, she had to fight, and she needed Hana to fight as well. She grabs both Hana’s arms and search for her wife’s eyes. “Hey, look at me.” Hana doesn’t move. “Baby, look at me. Look at me, Hana,” Riley insists.

Hana raises her chin so as to stare into Riley’s eyes, her own moist with all the crying. Riley moves her hands to both Hana’s cheeks, brushing her thumbs just below Hana’s eyes, wiping away the tears and the pain. She holds Hana’s head in place, trying to convey everything she felt with her gaze.

“Do you remember Olivia’s training?” Hana nods affirmatively. “We use our anger in our favor. We let our love for her drive us.” Riley brushes a stray of hair out of Hana’s face and brings their foreheads together. “We are forged in fire! The higher the flames, the greater our strength. We’ll come out of it stronger. We will make Barthelemy regret the day he decided to mess with our family and we will make him pay! For Aurora and for Queen Eleanor, we will bring him to justice!” Riley said, pouring her heart out with every single word that comes out of her mouth.

Several minutes pass in which they stand in silence, taking comfort in each other’s embrace and drinking in each other’s presence. Eventually Hana sighs deeply, shaking her head as if coming out of a haze. “I’m sorry I got a little lost there. It just felt so overwhelming for a moment.”

“It’s ok, love. You’re allowed to be upset. Just let me in and I promise I’ll always be here for you if you need me dragging you back.” Riley said calmly, keeping to herself the relief she felt in seeing a resemblance of the Hana she knew. She can’t say she ever saw Hana so angry before.

“I love you and I love our daughter. I’m ready to fight for our family with you.” Hana tries a shy smile that ends up looking more a grimace than anything else, but at least the sentiment was there.

“There she is, there’s the woman I married.”

Riley reaches out for Hana again, planting a kiss on Hana’s forehead. She then rests her chin on top of Hana’s head while encircling her on a loose hug.

“You know, when all of this is over, I will have someone make me a life-sized piñata with Barthelemy’s face and we’ll have so much fun trashing it to pieces.” Riley offers, her voice the most relaxed it has been for the past minutes. “I’ll make an event out of it, a holiday even! The trashing scumbags festival. What do you think?”

Hana manages a real if weak smile this time. “It has a nice ring to it, although we can work on that name.”

“I’m thinking hiring an orchestra, go on full pomp and circumstance mode. And I know just the piece the orchestra could play, you know that one from the cat concert on Tom and Jerry.”

Hana makes a face, completely lost as to what Riley was talking about.

“You know, the one tada tadadada dada dada...” Riley goes on making weird noises, mimicking the melody of Hungarian Rhapsody n 2 by Liszt. She knows how Hana enjoys when she goes classical.

And true to form, Hana’s smile goes a bit truer now. “I can agree to that.”

“That would make it very solemn, it’ll be the event of the year.” Riley finishes the thought, grinning slightly.

“Thank you, darling. For making me feel better."

Riley places a quick but meaningful kiss on Hana's lips and grabs her hand, leading them towards the door.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep. We’re gonna need our strength tomorrow.”

#the royal romance #hana lee x mc #mc x hana lee #hana lee #I'm back to my angst self I guess #hooray #hana x mc

[zeldan7]

Forever (Solomon x GN! Reader)

So I, er, I decided to write a nice little piece of angst based on Solomon's new UR+ animation o.O

Pairing: Solomon x GN! Reader

Warnings: Death, Blood, Mental Anguish

Word Count: 1668

During your short time in the Devildom you’d managed to become really close with your fellow students. Especially Solomon. In fact, you spent most of your time with him, much to the demon brothers’ dismay. You’d actually developed a bit of a crush on the sorcerer, not that you’d ever tell him.

One Wednesday, after your classes, Solomon invited you to Purgatory Hall for a movie night with him, Simeon, and Luke. After sending a quick text to the demon brothers chat to let them know, you followed Solomon back. You couldn’t help but notice how his hand kept brushing against yours. You thought it was most likely an accident at first, but after the eighth time you grew suspicious. Making a split-second decision, you gently intertwined your fingers with his. Nothing changed in his calm demeanour, but he now had an adorable smile plastered on his face as he gripped your hand tighter.

You remained that way all the way back to Purgatory Hall, only separating to let Solomon open the door. As soon as it shut behind you, he took up your hand again, grinning at you. You gazed up into his agate eyes, feeling a fluttering in your chest. Judging by Solomon’s facial expression, he felt it, too.

“Y/N…”

“Oh, Solomon, you’re back!” Simeon cried, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “Hello, Y/N!”

Surprisingly, Solomon kept your hand in his as he turned to face the angel. “Hey, Simeon. Y/N’s here for a movie night with us.”

Simeon looked between the two of you, then down at your clasped hands. “Unfortunately, Luke and I are quite busy tonight, so we’ll be unable to attend.”

The corner of Solomon’s mouth twitched up in a smirk. “That’s a shame, we’ll have to have another some time.”

Simeon simply shot him a knowing smile before leaving the two of you alone once more.

“Shall we?” Solomon asked, leading the way to his room.

He’d obviously been expecting you to accept his invitation, since his room was already prepared for a movie night. A small string of fairy lights hung over the headboard, and his bed was entirely covered in pillows and cushions of varying shapes and sizes. For the first time since you’d met him, Solomon looked sheepish.

“I… I was hoping you’d say yes.”

In response, you launched yourself on to the bed, burying yourself in the cushions. Solomon chuckled, climbing in next to you.

You stayed up until the early hours of the morning watching movies and chatting until you felt your eyes growing heavy. Without thinking, you placed your head on Solomon’s shoulder. You just had time to feel his arm wrap around you and his lips press against your head before you fell asleep, and he wasn’t far behind you.

It had been a week since your night with Solomon, and by now everyone knew you were a couple. It was rare for you to return to the House of Lamentation without your lover, but you’d promised the brothers you’d spend some time with just them. After an evening filled with card games and fun, you retired to your room. Or that was your intention, at least. As you ascended the stairs you heard a voice calling out for help. Quickly, you sprinted upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

You were surprised to find a heavy-looking door sealing off an attic room.

“Please – you have to help me get out!” The black and white-haired man stared at you; eyes full of desperation.

“Of course!” You cried, placing your hands on the door, searching for a handle. Before you could even begin, there was a blinding light. When you opened your eyes, the door was gone, and you were inside the room with the man.

“Thank you so much – uh, I didn’t catch your name?” He was clearly excited to be free, and you wondered how long he’d been stuck there.

You gave him a friendly smile. “I’m Y/N, the human exchange student!”

His face crinkled up in disgust before he lunged at you, lifting you up by the throat and cutting off your air.

“Humans killed my sister.” He growled.

You tried to fight him off, but he was far too strong. The last thing you saw was his sick, twisted grin before everything went black.

“Solomon?”

“Yes?” It was strange for one of the demon brothers to phone him. Stranger still for it to be Lucifer, sounding panicked no less.

“There’s been… an incident.”

“Lucifer, it’s not like you to struggle with words, is everyone alright?”

“No, I-“ Lucifer sighed. “Solomon, I need you at the House of Lamentation. Now.”

“Of course, I was hoping to drop by to see Y/N, anyway.”

Lucifer made a strangled sound before the line went dead.

“Belphegor…” Solomon growled, throwing himself at the demon only to be stopped by Lucifer. The brothers were shocked; Solomon was always so calm, they’d never seen him lose it. Especially not like this. Suddenly, the sorcerer stills, and Lucifer sees fit to set him free. Fists balled at his sides, Solomon took a deep breath, glaring daggers at the Avatar of Sloth. The ground started shaking, and the brothers all shared a look of alarm. Pictures began to fly off the walls as Solomon closed his eyes, clenching his fists hard enough to draw blood. The whole house was groaning and shuddering, and yet it was taking no damage. That was, until Solomon’s eyes snapped open, focussing on the demon before him. Cracks appeared in the floor around his feet, and panicked flashed across his face.

“Solomon!” Asmo shouted, but he wasn’t listening. Rage flowed through him, enough even to rival Satan on one of his bad days. Just as the floor looked like it would swallow Belphegor whole, something solid slammed into Solomon, knocking him to the floor and breaking his concentration.

“Beelzebub, what do you think you’re doing?!” Solomon yelled, the house’s shaking coming to an abrupt halt.

“He’s my brother.” Beel said, solemnly.

“He killed Y/N!” Solomon’s anger was beginning to subside, replaced by a sorrow so intense his chest ached. He’d never experienced anything quite like this in all his years.

“Beel,” Lucifer finally spoke. “Get Belphie out of here.”

Solomon knelt next to you, bent over and crying. Hands sprawled out over you, he tried spell after spell hoping one might bring you back. Over and over, he repeated different incantations until he finally collapsed from exhaustion. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see a pair of blue eyes full of concern.

“They’re gone, ya know. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and it ain’t fair, but they wouldn’t want ya torturin’ yourself like this.”

Mammon’s words touched the sorcerer, and he forced a small smile in response, accepting his hug.

It was too much for Solomon to handle. He’d faced loss before, of course (you didn’t get to be thousands of years old without losing loved ones) but none had hurt like this. Everyone had finally left after the ceremony, and it was just you and him now. The smell of freshly dug soil assaulted his nostrils, and it took all his strength to not retch. Rain pelted his back, drenching his clothes, but he didn’t care. What he did care about was you. You couldn’t be gone, it didn’t make sense. What if you were still alive? What if you’d been buried while still breathing?! Vain hope won out over rationality. He started digging through the mud with nothing but his bare hands. The rain made it clumpy, but he was determined. He dug and dug until his fingers were bleeding, and yet he had barely made any progress. Shouting up at the Heavens, he collapsed into the small indent he had made. He knew it was too late. He knew you were gone.

One Year Later

“Hey, Y/N,” Solomon kneeled next to your grave, clutching on to a small bouquet of flowers. “I saw these today, and I thought of you. I know irises are – were… your favourite. I never got to bring you any when you were still here, so…”

He carefully arranged the flowers in the centre of your headstone as tears started to spill over his eyelids.

“I hope wherever you are is as charming as your smile.” He had no idea where you were; he’d spent the last year searching both the Devildom and the Celestial Realm with no luck.

“Belphegor claims he’s sorry, but… I’ve been unable to tolerate his presence for more than a few moments. I’m sorry, too, Y/N. I should have been there. Perhaps you’d – you’d still be here…” He trailed off as a sudden sob choked him. Solomon didn’t cry often, and yet he’d shed more tears in the last year than he had in his whole life. You’d left a huge hole, and you’d taken a part of him with you when you left.

“Y/N, I’d like to think I’ll see you again, but I have my doubts.”

He’d been increasingly reckless since you’d passed, attempting untested magic, wandering the Devildom alone at night, even heading into a Reaper’s Cave. He’d always been fond of his immortality, but he was finally seeing it for what it was: a curse.

“Maybe I’ll find you one day… my love. I regret that I never got the chance to tell you how I feel; it’s something I’ll regret for as long as I live.”

Solomon took a deep breath, beginning to tremble.

“I love you, Y/N. I always will – that won’t ever change, no matter how much time may pass. Each day without you feels unbearable. I’d give anything to see your smile just one more time. I miss you more and more with each day that goes by. I’m so sorry I couldn’t – I couldn’t save you…”

He turned his gaze skyward, just in time to feel raindrops mix with his salty tears.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Forever.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey-me #shall we date solomon #solomon x mc #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #gn!reader #solomon x gn!reader

[rhysatlas]

there’s a good man in you / one-shot || AO3.

SUMMARY: It’s a quiet night when Din gets back to the Razor Crest and when he finds you and the Child fast asleep in his bed, he realizes his feelings for you and the kid.

PAIRING: din djarin x gn!reader (no y/n)

WORD COUNT: 3016

WARNINGS: none, other than Din being a little sad and wanting to hold your hand (maybe?)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s quiet on the Razor Crest when he enters the ship after a long day of hunting for a quarry, only to give up and head back, regroup, and continue his search in the morning. It’s not unusual for this hour, considering it’s late and the kid is usually asleep now, but it’s… too quiet.

Usually, your still up and about— fixing something on the ship, cleaning his weapons, or curled up in your usual spot by storage crates— and you would have greeted him when you heard him enter the ship, most likely to offer him whatever you’ve prepared for dinner for you and the kid, or to ask how the bounty hunt had gone. But he doesn’t hear anything other than the hum of the ship’s mechanics and a few sounds of the metal creaking because of the wind from outside. Before he had gotten the kid, or hired you to keep track of his ship and watch The Child, Din had been used to this silence since he had dealt with it for so long; but now that he has you two traveling with him, it’s odd to be surrounded by the thick quiet that echoes throughout the ship.

Din checks the cockpit after checking your usual spot, thinking maybe you went up there to wait for him, that the kid was huddled up in his seat or in your lap… but when he gets there, neither of you are to be found. He grunts softly to himself before sighing and heading back down the latter to get to the ship below once more.

He decides he’ll find you later, maybe you’re hiding on the ship to work on one of your many projects he’s caught you working on before, and goes to see if the kid is in his hammock above his bed.

When he hits the button to his bunk, he sees something he didn’t expect.

You.

You’re sound asleep, curled up on the sad excuse he has for a bed, wearing your ripped up sweater you refuse to throw away, barefooted, blanket pushed down to the end of the cot, with the kid curled up in your arms. The Child is curled up under your chin, his little face pressed against your collarbone, sound asleep as well. Something in this scene he’s stumbled upon makes his heart ache with something he’s still refusing. You both look so peaceful, despite the bags under your eyes; the kid must have tired you out after he left, as he usually did when Din was gone on a hunt, something you’ve told him time and time again.

“The little guy gets so reckless when you leave,” you told him once before, giving him a pleading look as he started packing up his weapons for a quarry. You hadn’t seen the look he’d given you due to his helmet, or the way his eyes went down to the kid in your arms, watching with saddened eyes as he reached out for Din, almost as if he was begging for the Mandalorian to stay. He found himself wanting to stay, but he’d never admit that.

“I’ll be back,” was all he had said to you before he reached out, brushing a leather covered finger tip over one of the kid’s ears, and letting his touch linger for a brief second on your hand when your hands accidentally brushed against each other, and then he turned on his heels and walked off the ship, leaving you and the kid staring after him.

After that afternoon, you never said anything else about it, but he knew you’d stare at him with a sad and worried gaze when he announced he’d be going hunting. You never fought or argued, he knew you had accepted this when you took the job he offered. The kid though, the kid started to react to him leaving more than before; the Child would cry when he started walking down the ramp to exit the ship, and Din had to force himself not to turn on his heels and go back to the ship to sooth him. He’d hear you whispering softly to the kid, telling him that everything would be fine; Mando will be back sooner than you know it, little guy, don’t worry about him, he’d hear you say as the kid’s cries fell quiet. Then the ramp would start closing, separating you two from seeing Din, and missing the way he’d turn to glance back at the ship.

Just as it had happened that morning.

He felt guilty, in all honesty. This wasn’t a life for a kid; he’s said it before, that the kid doesn’t deserve to be cooped up on the ship all day, but he’s got no other option. Traveling with a bounty hunter wasn’t what a child should be doing, but Din couldn’t do anything. He needed money to travel the galaxy to find the kid’s kind so he could have a decent life, but that meant doing what he was doing now; hunting so he could get where they needed to go. He still doesn’t know where he was going, not really having any knowledge of where the kid was originally from, or what the kid even is— he’ll never admit it out loud, but he’s lost on where to go next. Which is why he settled for looking for other Mandalorians after he got the money to do so.

You shift on his bed, and he freezes for a long moment because he doesn’t want to get caught staring at you while you slept, watching you for any signs of waking, and is relieved when he finds that you’re still asleep. The kid doesn’t seem affected by your small movements, meaning you had worn him out while Din was gone all day. He knows he should wake you so he can get the kid in his hammock and get you to your bunk, but he doesn’t have the heart to make you move. Not yet at least.

He settles for letting you rest as he goes to find something to sate his hunger, stomach aching with the need to food, and he closes the door to his bunk, turning to head towards the small storage space where food was stored. He finds some of the ration bars you had picked out last time you three went on a supply run, grumbling in annoyance because these weren’t his favorite, but it was something quick and easy for him to devour before getting some sleep to prepare for his hunt tomorrow.

As he eats, he thinks back to you sleeping in his bunk, the feeling he keeps choosing to ignore coming back to the surface. He doesn’t say what he thinks this feeling is, he probably never will, but he knows that he cares for you. He cares for you in ways that are similar to how he feels about the kid— he wants to protect you, he wants you to stay safe, despite knowing you were fully capable of taking care of yourself, but he finds that you being here has made the Razor Crest feel less… empty. He doesn’t feel alone with you or the kid here, as he had when it was just him collecting bounties day in and day out. He feels like he has a purpose with you and the kid, that maybe he was allowed to have good things too, that he didn’t have to be miserable until the end of his days. His heart feels full when he sees you playing with the kid, when you crack a joke that makes him roll his eyes, the way you talk to yourself when you work on the ship or fixing something the kid accidentally broke, or the sound of your laughter filling the void of the ship when the kid does something adorable.

This feeling is new to him, a feeling he might have had before he became a Mandalorian, and it scares him because he doesn’t know how to explain any of this. He’d never been one with words, being someone of few words in general, and he’s unsure how to even act on these feelings. If he tried, would you laugh at him? Tell him that you don’t return these unnamed emotions he’s experiencing? Or, would you accept these feelings? Would you allow him to try and be better?

He shakes his head at the thought. No, he can’t think like that. He had one goal currently, and that was to get the kid to his kind. He couldn’t be thinking of things he didn’t deserve. He finishes his meal quickly, ignoring the racing thoughts trying to prevent him from focusing on the task at hand. Which involved figuring out where he’d sleep since you were occupying his bed, or deciding to wake you and the kid so you could all sleep in your own beds.

Din goes back to his bunk, pressing the button to open it once again. You’re still sleeping, still curled up around the kid. He lets out a soft sigh; he’d be sleeping in the cockpit then, not wanting to wake you or the Child. He looks over you for a few more moments, taking in your mused hair and the way your hand is resting on the kid’s back in a protective way, before he raises his hand to press the button once more. Only to freeze when you stir, your eyes moving beneath your lids, a soft grunt passing your lips, before your eyes flutter open. You don’t seem to focus right away, but he can’t move as he stares at you, his breath caught in his throat as he watches you gather your bearings.

“Kriff,” you curse softly to yourself more to him, seeing as you still haven’t noticed him standing there staring at you, and you sigh deeply. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you mutter as your eyes close once more. The kid still doesn’t stir, even as you are awake now.

You shift as if you’re about to sit up before he takes in the way you tense as your eyes land on him. You look startled, eyes wide as you stare at his visor, lips parting in surprise.

“Maker, Mando, you scared the crap out of me,” you hiss, the hand not holding the kid against you going to your chest, holding onto your shirt, over your heart. Your eyes then go to the kid, who buries his face into your shirt, and then stills. You let out a soft sigh of relief when you realize the kid is still asleep.

He doesn’t say anything, still tense from getting caught, his breath still being held in his chest to the point that it stings.

“When did you get back?” you whisper to him, being quiet to not disturb the tiny child sleeping against you.

“Not that long ago,” he finally responds, his voice sounding rougher than he intended, but you don’t seem phased as you nod your head.

“How’d you get on then? Catch the bad guy?”

He shakes his head, “No. Decided on trying again tomorrow.”

You purse your lip at his response, “Oh. Okay… sorry you didn’t get them today.”

He shrugs.

“Did you eat?” you ask him, as if it was nothing.

“Yeah, I did.”

Another nod and you look down at the kid. Din follows your line of sight, seeing him still curled up against you, soft little snores leaving him.

“He kept me on my toes all day,” you murmur with a smile, resting your cheek against the kid’s head gently. “Wouldn’t let me get anything done since he was being so clingy.”

Din sighs, “He’s a stubborn one.”

Your smile grows more fond as you look down at the kid again, “Yeah, he sure is. He’s not the only one.”

Your gaze shifts back to Din and he feels that pang in his chest again, seeing you gazing at him with the same fond smile on your lips. You’re still half asleep, he has to remind himself, you’re not aware of how you’re looking at him or how that smile is aimed at him. You look like you’re going to fall back asleep at any moment. He should leave and let you. But he doesn’t move.

“Guess not,” he replies. A smirk crosses his lips beneath his helmet nonetheless. “He gets it from you.”

“Ha, good one, Mando,” you snort quietly, shaking your head. Your eyes narrow then, staring up at him with a sly look. “Wait… did you just— did you make a joke? I must still be asleep then.”

He huffs, “Yeah, maybe. Don’t know why you’d be dreaming of me then.”

He doesn’t miss the way you flush at that, nor the way your breath hitches in your throat, before he watches that fond smile crossing your lips again.

“Maybe because I missed you.”

Din tenses. He’s confused. You… missed him?

“What?”

“The kid missed you too,” you continue as if he hadn’t reacted at all. “We both miss you when you’re gone, you know. Doesn’t feel like home when you aren’t here.”

You have to be half asleep to say all of this, he tries to convince himself because there’s no way you felt this way… right?

“It doesn’t feel the same when you’re out there and we’re here— I know it’s to get money and all that but… still don’t like it.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

You blink up at him, staring into his soul as your eyes don’t waver from his visor, expression softening as you smile again, “I know. Not at the moment at least. Was just letting you know. To let you know people actually care about you.”

This is unexpected to say the least, and he doesn’t quite know how to react or what to say about that.

“I— thank you, I guess.”

“Wish other people would see that you aren’t some droid under there, that you’re a decent man under there,” you murmur, so quietly he almost missed it.

“I prefer it that way,” he says before he can stop himself, hands dropping to his sides as your eyes flicker down to watch them.

“It’s okay to— you’re not like that,” you struggle to get out, and he can see your brain trying to push past the fog of sleep to get your point across, huffing when it doesn’t seem to be working. “I know there’s a good man under there, Mando,” you settle for, nodding to yourself and beam up at him, as if you hadn’t just slapped him in the face with your small confession.

He doesn’t deserve this, not from you at the very least. He’s not a good man and he knows it. He’s done some terrible shit in the past, and he knows that you’re aware of it. You’ve seen him kill once or twice before, you know what his hands are capable of; there’s no possible way you saw a good man in him. But the look in your eyes as you look up at him from his bed, the innocence he sees in your statement… that tells him a different story. You saw good in him, despite what he’s done, and that makes his chest ache with a lot more emotion than he thought it would.

This feeling may be new but he knows how he feels about you, he knows that you make him want to do better; not just for you and the kid, but for himself. It’s a scary revelation to become aware of when he just figured out how he felt about you. And he knows it will be a while before he can figure out how to even admit it to himself out loud.

“You have good in you,” you add with a yawn, and he can see that you’re starting to fall asleep again, your eyes drooping as you try to continue. “I’ve seen it…”

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, as he grabs the blanket still wrinkled up at the end of the bed, throwing it over you as your eyes close. You smile sleepily, snuggling up against the kid again, pulling the blanket over the both of you as you do so.

“See? Good,” you mumble, eyes remaining closed this time. He waits for your breath to even out before he moves out of his bunk, pressing the button to close the door to allow you and the kid to sleep, his heart still pounding, mind still reeling over your statement.

He makes his way back up to the cockpit then, settling in his chair with the intention of sleeping, but he finds that he can’t because he keeps repeating your words back to himself.

You have good in you.

He doesn’t know where you see it, how you see past the blood on his hands, or if you just turn a blind eyes and pretend you’re unaware of how many deaths have been caused by his hands— hands that are trembling slightly due to the siege of emotions he’s feeling, hands that want to hold you more than he can let himself do— but he wishes he knew. He knows come morning, you’ll forget about this (he hopes you forget it) or write it off as some vivid dream you had while he was gone, and he figures he’ll never find out what good you saw in the Mandalorian.

There’s no good in him. Even with how he saved the Child and prevented those men from experimenting on him, there’s no redemption for all the things he’s done in the past.

But… something in the way you said it, well, he wants to believe there is.

There’s a good man under there, Mando.

Your words echo in his mind as he settles, eyes closing as he wills himself to drift off, and he eventually falls asleep to the image of you and his kid curled up in his bed, waiting for him to come home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: I’ve had a rough couple of days and wanted to write something cute instead of what I usually write. I got this idea while I was cuddling with the Grogu that my roommate gave to me early for my birthday next week.

If you want any updates on future fics or want to chat with me or others who love Din Djarin and the Mandalorian, feel free to join my discord server; simpin’ for din djarin— just be advised that the server is 18+.

#fic: a good man #can i just hold din’s hand please? is that too much to ask? #din djarin #grogu #the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #kv’s writing

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Zuko x female reader series: Part Six

After leaving the firenation you and Zuko track the avatar down, break into a fire nation prison and you get into a fist fight with Sokka...but your fun summer aside, It all comes down the agni kai between Zuko and Azula. Although you’re only there for support you end up doing more harm than good for Zuko...

Part One here

Part Two here

Part Three here

Part Four here

Part Five here

Tagged: @taeeemin​ @creation-magician​ @kaylove12​

The first meeting

After leaving the fire nation you’d found the avatar pretty easily and now it was just the matter of convincing him not to attack you that was the problem. Zuko rehearsed his speech to an audience of you and a frog you’d befriended and you and said frog glanced at one another not convinced as Zuko finished his speech. Zuko saw you expression and groaned “this is stupid! I’ve dragged us out here for no reason, they’re not going to let us stay”. You shook your head “no they will it just depends on what you say! Come on we can get this right! Try again but this time maybe don’t seem so...teriffied?”. Zuko sighed but tried again.

Zuko wouldn’t let you come with him the first time he approached them incase they reacted badly and you agreed only because one fire bender was less intimidating and punchable then two fire benders. Despite all your rehearsal the inital meeting didn’t go well but Zuko eventually managed to get the gang to agree to your presence. He only had to risk getting attacked by them and then save their lives from an assasin, almost dying in the process, but he came back beaming to tell you the gang was expecting you. Zuko led you to their camp and the gang came into view, each and every one of them staring at you. You stared back, putting names to faces and Zuko stopped infront of Aang. “Aang, erm everyone this is y/n, she’s a firebender so she can help teach you aswell”. Aang smiled at you hesitantly but the two water siblings huffed and the earthbender just frowned. “Nice to meet you, cool airbison” you said in greeting and Aang couldn’t resist a smile “thanks his name’s Appa!”. “He’s glorious” you grinned “can i stroke him?”. In reply Appa licked you and you made a noise of disgust and suprise. Aang laughed “that means he likes you! He must smell Zuko on you”. You exchanged a raised eyebrow with Zuko but smiled back at Aang “great I made a friend already!”. The water tribe girl, Katara according to Zuko, made a noise and rolled her eyes walking away. Her brother and the earth bender stared at you but seemed equally curious as they were angry at you, which for a first day you took as a win.

The gang’s reaction to you and Zuko

Straight away you could tell the gang was confused how you and Zuko worked. You knew Zuko had mentioned you were dating but still the gang all seemed shocked at the concept. The Zuko they knew was so different to the one you knew and even though Zuko was never one for PDA even watching him be casually sweet and attentive to you was like seeing a completely different person from the angry man they first met. The day after you arrived Aang started his firebending training and Zuko asked you to help. You were more than happy to but soon realised something was wrong with Zuko. He trired showing Aang the forms but he didn’t have any fire. You basically ended up demonstrating everything to Aang while Zuko got more and more stressed that he couldn’t do it. Aware Zuko didn’t perform well under pressure you told Zuko you should break away from the training session to give him and Aang time to bond. You’d barely been back at camp 10 minutes when Zuko and Aang came into view on their way back to camp, training apparently abandonned. Aang reached you first and explained Zuko still couldn’t fire bend. You looked up the hill to where Zuko was slowly sulking his way back to camp and frowned, he looked sad, his body language defeated, head slumped. You weren’t having this and without a word to the gang marched over to Zuko.

The gang’s POV

The gang watched super confused, and partially fearing for your safety due to the look on Zuko’s face, as you marched over to Zuko. You reached him and they all held their breath. They couldn’t hear what you said but whatever it was made Zuko more upset, he exploded, gesturing wildly to where him and Aang had been training and they all recognised that temper. What they hadn’t seen though was someone control it. You touched Zuko’s hand and his whole body seemed to deflate. You gripped his hand and stared speaking to him calmly with a small smile on your face. Zuko sighed but smiled too and you hugged him tightly. They were all shocked when Zuko sunk into you and wrapped his arms around you burying his head in your neck. You seperated and said something making Zuko smile and took his hand leading him back to the camp. Sokka raised an eyebrow but Katara rolled her eyes “so he’s kind to his girlfriend, big deal he still tried to kill us”.

Zuko and Aang’s went on a fieldtrip to re-learn firebending and when they returned the gang all watched amazed as Zuko animatedly told you details of what had happened. None of them had ever seen the boy smile let alone talk so happily, it was odd. You smiled at Zuko brightly and after he’d told you everything he seated hismelf beside you an arm around you. You leant into him, tracing his hand around you, and Zuko grinned at whatever you were saying. "Is anyone actually buying this?" Katara asked watching and Sokka frowned "what the fire duo?". Katara nodded and Aang shrugged "they seem pretty happy maybe Zuko was always tring to kill us because y/n wasn’t with him". Katara scoffed as Sokka nodded like that was a plausible excuse for trying to kill them.

The first fight

Your first argument with the gang was with Sokka and unsuprisingly it was about food. The daily rations had just been split 6 ways and there wasn’t much of it, something the ever perceptive Toph noticed. "That’s it for food?" she asked when Sokka passed her a bowl and he sighed "yes there’s not much to go around now there’s 6 of us". You were sat nearby and thought the tone Sokka used was very pointed but didn’t comment.  Aang frowned "so we'll get more food, no big deal". "I mean it kind of is a big deal" Sokka sighed "it was hard enough the four of us and now there’s six of us...”. “I needed a firebending teacher Sokka you know that” Aaang shrugged and Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yes and I get letting Zuko in to teach you but do we really need to be responsible for every run away from the firenation?" Sokka asked talking about you. "First it’s his girlfriend but what next? His whole extended family? His gardener? This is hard enough as it is without Zuko’s girl tagging along". "Zuko’s girl? Tagging along?" you asked loudly and Sokka jumped seeing you’d heard. “You think that’s what I did?” you smirked "I was no use to Zuko during the escape, I didn’t help him get here or anything?”. “I didn’t say that” Sokka started but you cut him off “and we brought food too so i’m not the reason food’s short, you’re the one who eats like a horse. I’m just as much an asset as Zuko". Sokka raised an eyebrow "really because he’s a fire bending prince". "And i’m a fire bending navy expert, what can you do?". Sokka blushed "well i....". "Water tribe right?” you said not giving him the chance to repeat himself “but you can’t water bend can you?" you asked smirking as the boy glared "i can still fight" Sokka cried. "Really prove it, fight me" you grinned. Sokka frowned "i’m not going to do that". "Why because i’ll beat you?". "I’m a warrior of the souther water tribe" Sokka argued and you rolled your eyes "big deal i’ve been sparring with Azula Mai and Ty lee since I was 7, have you ever played fire knives with Azula? I don’t think so, you’ll be easy". Sokka glared and you knew you’d triggered him. "Okay no bending" Sokka said and you nodded "sure and no weapons, that includes boomerangs". "Guys are you sure..." Katara started but Toph shushed her “shut up Katara I want to feel Sokka get his ass kicked”. You and Sokka stood feet away from each other and Sokka smirked looking past you to Zuko "don’t worry i won’t hurt her too much" he said cockily and your anger peaked. You were going to teach this water tribesmann who was useless.

_ _ _

The fight over, you and Sokka sat beside one another on the floor. Sokka held an icepack to his head for the swelling, it was the only injury you’d given him Katara couldn’t heal, while you inspected the red mark from where Sokka bit you when you had him in a headlock. "I’m sorry about that" Sokka blushed "i don’t usually bite, it’s not noble for a warrior to do". "Any victory is a victory no matter the means...even if you lost" you replied. Sokka frowned but you smirked at him to let him know you were joking and Sokka laughed. "I let you win". You raised an eyebrow and Sokka sighed "okay maybe i didn’t but there’s no shame in losing to a better opponent". You grinned "friends?" And Sokka nodded "friends".

Zuko and Katara’s POV

Zuko and katara watched you two confused. You’d gone from arguing, to physically attacking one another to now laughing like old friends. "Is she...does y/n always fight people?" Katara asked hesitantly. Zuko shrugged "usually not physically but yeah she does that, does your brother usually bite people?". Katara shook her head "nope just your girlfriend". "I don’t know if i should be offended or pleased?" Zuko frowned.

The prison break

True to your promise, after you fight you and Sokka became fast friends mainly because you had the same reckless energy and it was utter chaos when you two were brainstorming ideas. Zuko was kind of jealous at first but you reassured him he’d always be your best friend even if he was your boyfriend and Zuko didn’t mind as much. Sokka didn’t object to you coming with him to rescue his dad and considering you actually knew where the prison was considered you a pretty important asset.

You were meant to stay on the ship during the prison break but that idea went to pot as soon as the steam made the ship useless. So you entered the prison with Zuko and Sokka and soon enough Zuko got caught. You managed to get the job guarding his cell though so could keep an eye on him when there was an announcement important guests had arrived. Your plan to escape was soon so you ditched your guard uniform and headed to your meeting point when you came across one said important visitor who spotted you straight away.

Mai.

You swore inwardly but tried to offer a friendly smile incase she was in a forgiving mood "hey Mai...". A knife was embedded in the wall next to you and you nodded "okay okay, before we start trying to kill each other any chance you'll accept my apology, realise me and Zuko didn’t mean to hurt you and let me go?". Mai sent a knife for you and you used your bending to only just knock it off course. "Fine i guess violence is the answer" and launched into an attack. You didn’t want to hurt Mai so mainly avoided her attacks in an effort to tire her so you could then take her out carefully. The best way to do that was to make her lose focus. You’d been told your best weapon in a fight was your mouth, you could make people angry and lose concentration easily and so tried to use some of that now on Mai. "Also just to clarify i’m not fighting you because of Zuko, i mean two girls fighting over a guy is so gross and demeaning i’m fighting you because you’re trying to stab me! Alright? Okay good, just wanted to make that clarification". "Stop talking!" Mai cried and you smirked, it was working. You carried on talking nonesense, apologising for that time at school you’d accidentally fell on her in gym, that time at the dinner party you’d knocked her drink over, that time when you were eight and called her knives dumb etc, until finally Mai’s anger peaked but it didn’t make her an easier opponent, the anger seemed to fuel her. Mai threw a knife and before you could move it landed in your arm. The pain was red hot and more intense that any burn or hit you’d been inflicted before. Angry and barely thinking you retaliated. You yanked the knife out of your arm and sent it right back at her. Mai hadn’t been expecting that and neither had you. It cut her hand and you stared "Mai i’m sorry...". "Stop apologising" she cried trying to attack you again “fight!”. “I don’t want to fight you” you cried and Mai glared “well i’m not letting you go, this doesn’t end until me or you can’t get back up”. You winced “I hate to disagree with you but no”. You shot a wave of fire at her knocking her back against the door of a cell. “Sorry” you winced and kicked her in the chest. She tumbled into the room and you slammed the door shut. Mai beat her fists against the door in rage and you grimanced opening the eye hole. "Mai i’m sorry but I’m not fighting you so this way I don’t have to, i hope you can understand that and some day we can maybe be friends again" and then rushed away. Your escape was still in motion and you had serious time to make up for. You ran down a tunnel and shot out into the sunlight of the main yard. You spotted Zuko and Sokka and worked your way through the crowd to them. You reached Zuko and the others and were panting hard "Mai’s here...very angry...we need to go". Zuko nodded gripping your hand "yep that seems wise, let’s go!". “The barge is this way” Suki cried and you all took off running again.  

You’d finally reached the barge with minimal trouble when the pain in your arm flared and you held it awkwardly trying to ease the pain. Zuko spotted the blood on your arm and frowned “Y/n!”. "It’s fine" you smiled seeing his worry and he shook his head ripping a piece of fabric off his shirt “No it’s not, here”. He wrapped it around your arm tightly "i’m sorry we'll get you back to Katara soon" and squeezed your hand. You smiled and Zuko looked at you for a few more seconds before he had to turn away to help Sokka. Mai wasn’t the only one in the prison, Azula and Ty lee were here too of course. You watched the fight from the barge, furious you couldn’t join in but your arm was making you feel faint so you knew fighting was not an option for you. Azula and Ty lee appeared to be winning but thanks to Mai you got away. You cheered for Mai as she attacked the guards, taking out multiple men at once and Zuko looked at you confused “y/n she just stabbed you”. “But she saved us Zuko” you smiled “my apology worked...that or she just wants to kill us herself...no it’s hopefully the first one!” and then you prompty fainted from blood loss.

_ _ _

When you came round you were back at camp, arm healed courtsey of Katara, Zuko asleep at the foot of your sleeping bag. You sat up carefully not wanting to wake him but Sokka didn’t get the memo. “Y/n” he yelled seeing you and rushed over. Zuko jolted awake and stopped Sokka from touching you “don’t she could still be sore!”. “I’m fine Zuko” you smirked but still he pushed Sokka away from you so he could hug you first. “You worried me when you fainted...I had no idea your arm was that bad...i’m so sorry”. “Don’t be” you smiled “i’m fine aren’t i? and we got Sokka’s dad! and Mai might have forgiven us! All in all it was a good trip”. “Only you could think you almost dying was a success”. “Almost” you said pointedly “almost dying Zuko”. Zuko rolled his eyes and kissed you making Sokka groan “ugh I think I’ll take my hug later...” and left you and Zuko alone.  

The campsite

Azula soon found your hiding place in the western air temple forcing you to move to a camping ground and there was a limited number of tents. Katara was trying to sort out the sleeping arrangements but she miscalculated.  "And y/n you can share my tent" Katara announced, her long and careful explanation finished and you and Zuko exchanged a look. "That’s sweet Katara but i’m fine bunking with Zuko". You’d barely finished your sentance when Sokka spluttered in suprise. "But you can’t do that" Sokka cried and you raised an eyebrow "why not?". "Because you’re dating" he cried but you and Zuko shrugged "and?". “And? well it’s...it’s against the rules! I’m not allowed to share with Suki, tell them Katara!" he cried pushing his sister forwards who frowned awkwardly. "Well we’re older than you" you shrugged and Zuko nodded "and smarter". "Plus we’re engaged" you pointed out and everyone’s eyes widenned "what?". "Is she lying?" Aang asked Zuko shook his head "i mean no...just i didn’t actually ask her my father did it for me but yes, technically speaking we are engaged". You nodded to Sokka "are you and Suki engaged?". "Well no..." he blushed. "Then that’s why you can’t share a tent" you retorted and pulled Zuko’s arm as you went into the tent "night guys". Zuko followed you as Sokka called out protests and Katara just sighed "leave them alone Sokka". Sokka stared mouth wide-open before an idea formed in his head and he started towards Suki’s tent. "Go to your own tent Sokka!" Katara called and Sokka cursed "ow come on!".

You moved around campsites pretty regularly after that incase Azula found you again and ended up in an old villa Zuko’s family owned. Everything was going fine, you had a beach day, Zuko and Aang got better at firebending, you even managed to drag Zuko to the theatre and then Aang went missing. With Aang gone Zuko figured the only person who could take on his father was his uncle and so you set out to find him. Zuko recruited an old friend to help and you soon found King Bumi and the white lotus who took you to Iroh’s camp site. Bumi told Zuko the tent Iroh was in and you saw Zuko tense and fear covered his face. “Don’t worry” you said patting his arm “your uncle will forgive you, just tell him what you told me and it’ll all be okay”. Zuko nodded but seemed unable to do much else, he looked paralysed. “Can you...can you come with me?” Zuko asked softly and your heart exploded in sympathy. “Of course I will” you nodded hugging him tightly. The others all dispersed and you and Zuko walked arm and arm to the tent. Zuko took a breath before entering and you looked at him “ready?”. He nodded looking at you before fixing his eyes on the tent opening and he stepped inside. You followed a few steps behind and saw Zuko look around before his posture slumped. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust but Zuko filled you in on what was happening “we should go he’s asleep”. You frowned knowing Zuko wouldn’t get any rest until this was done. “Why don’t we wait for him to wake up?”. Zuko looked at you before nodding “yeah okay”. You sat crosslegged on the floor beside one another waiting for Iroh to wake up. The hours stretched on and on and you felt sleep trying to take you but you resisted. You kept ahold of Zuko’s hand letting him know you were there with him. You were sure the time felt far worse for him and weren’t going to leave him, even if it was just to sleep. When Iroh did move Zuko jumped and you swallowed. “It’s okay” you assured him and he nodded standing up. Zuko moved forwards and you didn’t follow. This should be between him and his uncle, but when Zuko started to cry your heart did crumple slightly. Just as you were begging Iroh to forgive him already he wrapped Zuko into a tight hug and, also crying, forgave him. Tears fell down your cheeks too as you smiled at the sight of Zuko and his uncle. Iroh noticed you when he opened his eyes and he smiled warmly.  "Y/n get in here" Iroh grinned holding out a hand to you. You blushed “ow are you sure? I mean this is your family moment...I don’t want to intrude”. Iroh scoffed "any girl who visited me in prison and snook me snacks is family in my eyes". You grinned and Zuko frowned "wait you visited my uncle in prison?". You shrugged "not too often about once a week". "How did i not know this?" Zuko asked and you paled "i purposefully didn’t tell you, i wanted you to work out your feelings on your own, i hope you’re not mad". Zuko shook his head "of course i’m not mad now come here". You smiled and stepped forward to join the hug between Zuko and Iroh.

Afterwards you caught Iroh up on everything he’d missed and Zuko explained his idea to have Iroh overthrow Ozai. Even as Zuko said it you got the feeling it wouldn’t happen, you could tell by Iroh’s reaction he had something different in mind. When Iroh said it wasn’t him who should be the new firelord you knew where he was going, you’d already been suspecting Zuko should have more say in how the fire nation was run and Iroh apparently agreed. "Me? Firelord?" Zuko asked "but i can’t...". Sokka, Toph, Katara and Suki just looked to you, now very used to you giving Zuko pep talks and you were on it. "You can" you smiled taking Zuko’s hand "i figured you’d have to do it for a while now and you’ve proven yourself Zuko, you can do this". Zuko stared at you blankly as his uncle joined in, listing the reasons why Zuko would make a good ruler. Zuko gripped your hand tighter as what you were both saying set in. "Okay" he barely whispered "i’ll go see Azula and become..." he swallowed and you smiled "you won’t be facing her alone" you told him and Zuko beamed at you.  

The Agni Kai

Judgement day here you and Zuko returned to the fire nation so he could fight his sister. Katara accompanied you as you figured you’d need a healer no matter who won. You landed in the courtyard and told Appa to fly away in case Azula tried to hurt him. You stood behind Zuko, beside Katara, waiting for the fight of his life. If he won he became firelord, if he didn’t...lets just say there’s no way Azula would let any of you live. The fight began and you stayed out of the way of Azula and Zuko’s duel as much as you could. With the comet fueling their bending it was one of the most intense fights you’d ever witnessed but Zuko was performing well. As Azula started to lose you could see her eyeing her surroundings for a way out and she fixed on you. You were ready for this, back at camp Iroh had warned you about this and given you a crash course in deflecting lightning, you pushed Katara back and readied yourself to deflect your first lightning bolt ever as it hurtled towards you. Zuko yelled out chasing it but was too slow, not that it mattered. You caught it and using the technique Iroh had taught you shot it right back at Azula. It worked and you were thrilled until you realised Zuko had been running towards you and was now right in the path of the deflected bolt. The bolt struck both Zuko and Azula within seconds of one another and sent them both flying back at the force. The smoke cleared and you went cold as you saw Zuko smouldering on the ground. "Zuko" you yelled rushing to him, it had hit him on the shoulder and the wound was badly burnt. "Katara" you called and she rushed over. "Heal him! Please! please!" You pleaded "i didn’t mean to hit him, i didn’t know he was so close". Katara worked and you stared at Zuko’s burn, the burn you’d given him until his breathing evened out and you gasped in relief. "I’m going to go make sure Azula’s okay and bind her" Katara told you and you nodded barely even listening as you cradled Zuko "Zuko are you okay?" you asked "Zuko i’m so sorry!". "Don’t be" he smiled weakly "i should’ve learnt long ago you don’t need me to save you, when did you learn to do that? More secret visits with my uncle". "Maybe" you smiled before frowning at Zuko’s burn that would surely form a scar despite Katara’s help "i can’t believe i did that to you". "Don't' Zuko said moving your gaze to his face "you did it, we did, we won". You nodded smiling and hugged him, carefully, but none the less passionately.

When Zuko was well enough you helped him to stand and walked him to the balcony overlooking all of the firenation. Zuko looked over the city below and you followed his gaze. It was still barely light but dusk was approaching and small lights were lighting up around the city. They news would be spreading as you stood here that Zuko was the new firelord and the war was finally over. You smiled standing beside him "surveying your new kingdom? Looking for a place to build a statue of yourself?". Zuko tutted but smiled. "This doesn’t feel normal" he sighed "this...that i’m...". "Firelord" you smiled "Firelord Zuko". Zuko nodded "it even sounds weird you saying it". You smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist. Zuko didn’t hesitate to wrap his around your shoulder. "It sounds weird now but you’re going to be an amazing Firelord Zuko, you’re kind and smart and actually want to help people! We haven’t had a firelord with that mentality in...well forever! I have total faith in you". Zuko sighed "i’m glad someone does". "Hey" you said tilting his face to yours "remember what i said to you on that ship all that time ago, i never lie about important things. You will be an amazing Firelord Zuko, just you wait and see". Zuko smiled and kissed you softly. You smiled stroking his cheek as you kissed him back. Zuko broke away but pulled you to his chest wrapping his arms around you. You smiled looking out at the city. "With you with me i can’t mess this up too badly right?". You smiled "that’s right, together we can handle this".

2 years later

"Y/n" Zuko groaned as you messed with his hair but he didn’t push you away. You’d been on your longest voyage since you’d been dating and honestly Zuko wouldn’t push you away from him even if you were stabbing him he’d missed you so much. You’d returned this morning after a 6 month naval trip to the water tribe and Zuko had left your side once. He had to leave for a small disaster in one of the colonies and that had killed him but now he was back in his rightful place beside you and that was all that mattered. You were messing with his hair, trying to get his hair free of the crown he’d had to put on to attend his crisis meeting. You were never of a fan of anything restricting Zuko’s hair and finally yanked the clip from his hair and smiled as it fell down in all it’s glory. "There" you said patting his shoulders and Zuko shook his head blowing a piece of hair out of his face. "Y/n you know i can’t have my hair down all the time". "But why not? You’re the Firelord and now is the time for important changes!". Zuko rolled his eyes but smiled "and this is the big change you think i should make?". You nodded "ow yes, you need to look respectable as Firelord and with your hair down you look really really good" you sighed and Zuko smirked. "Well i’m glad you like it but it’s not practical, how would i even wear my crown?" Zuko asked and you frowned before pushing him down so you could reach his head. "Hmmm maybe we could fashion a little stand, or pin some pieces to hold it in place...". "That sounds like a lot of effort" Zuko commented when you gasped "or you could plait it!". "Plait it?" Zuko asked and you nodded. "I saw lots of men with plaits in their hair in the water tribe on my visit, Sokka’s dad has one and it looks very good on a man". Zuko raised an eyebrow "you think Sokka’s dad looks good?". "No...well yes Hakoda is hot but you’re missing the point, let’s do your hair like that!". "No i think we should go back to the Hakoda’s hot part..." Zuko commented but you hushed him and pushed him to sit on the floor as you fiddled with his hair. Zuko sighed but liked the feeling of you playing with his hair so smiled and closed his eyes. You were gentle and your touch soft so Zuko relaxed into you until you abruptly stood up "done!". You showed Zuko himself in the mirror and he smiled "wow it does look good". "I told you" you grinned when the door opened and Sokka walked in. You’d brought him back from your trip as a suprise for Zuko and he’d wasted no time settling into the palace and letting himself into rooms without knocking apparently. "Zuko where do you...." Sokka started before he stopped dead in his tracks seeing Zuko’s hair. He started laughing with glee while crying "water tribe!" multiple times as he pointed at Zuko "you’ve got a water tribe hairstyle!". "Yeah y/n apparently thinks they look good on the men in your tribe" Zuko said raising an eyebrow, still not over your comment about Sokka’s dad, but you weren’t listening. As soon as Sokka heard you could plait hair he’d grabbed you "do mine! do mine!" and shook his hair loose. Zuko watched as you pulled Sokka’s hair into a plait delicately until it looked like his. "Finished" you smiked and Sokka rushed to the mirror before laughing at himself in glee too. You smiled as Sokka grabbed Zuko "we look like twins!". Zuko raised an eyebrow but you saved him the effort of replying "now do mine Sokka!". Sokka complied and you made Zuko watch so he could do it for you when Sokka wasn’t here.

Plaits all finished it was quiet a sight, the three of you sat together with matching hairstyles. You had a games night and then relaxed and chatted. You soon fell asleep against Zuko, your journey and reunion with him tiring you out too much to wait for Sokka to leave, and unbothered Zuko and Sokka carried on chatting.The conversation went quiet and Sokka looked at you "is she asleep?" he whispered and Zuko frowned "y/n?" he called but you didn’t stir "i think so". Sokka smiled "so wanna see the necklace?". Zuko nodded and Sokka went into his pocket pulling out the betrothal necklace Zuko wanted. "I had Piandao help me make it like you wanted" Sokka told him and opened the box. Zuko didn’t want a design exactly like the water tribe one, the fire nation was different and so a different necklace was needed. The one he asked Sokka to make was thinner, with a black cord crisscrossing several times before dipping down where a red stone sat, glimmering in the light. Zuko grinned, it was exactly like he’d imagined it. "Do you think she'll like it?" Sokka asked and Zuko nodded looking down at you "yes". "Well she better or she’s never going to say yes to marrying you". Zuko gulped, that was true but Sokka hit his arm "i was joking, of course she'll say yes, she loves you more than anything, anyone can see that just watching you two together". Zuko smiled down at you asleep against his chest and thought about the proposal he’d prepared. He was going to take you to your favourite restuarant, a tradition you’d still kept up even after he turned into the firelord, and treat you to your favourite foods. Then you’d walk back to the palace through all your favourite spots in the gardens and end up by the turtle duck pond. He’d have your turtleduck come over with the necklace securely attached to his back and Zuko would ask you then and there. "I hope so" he sighed when you moved in your sleep suddenly. "Zuko can we go to bed" you yawned "i’m tired and the light is very bright". Zuko and Sokka froze as you sat up and you frowned "what? Did i drool or something when i was napping?". They both sighed in relief, you hadn’t heard. "Yeah we can go to bed" Zuko nodded and Sokka stood up "i’ll see you guys tomorrow" and sneakily left the box on a table for Zuko. You were oblivious already pulling the covers back to get into bed. Sokka grinned at Zuko and made his way to the door "night y/n" he called and you said a sleepy reply before face diving into the bed. Zuko smirked closing the door and turning the light off before joining you. You sighed sleepily as Zuko snook closer to you and pulled you against him. You shuffled your head getting comfy against him and eventually stopped "goodnight Firelord" you said sleepily and Zuko smirked, he still hadn’t gotten used to it but he liked how it sounded when you said it. "Goodnight y/n" he smiled kissing your head but you were already asleep. "I really hope you say yes" he whispered before resting his head beside yours and going to sleep.

You said yes of course.

______

So that’s it! I had to get in a comment about Zuko’s hair progression one last time because honestly that was one of the greatest things about the whole series. This was kinda hard to write cus so much happened once Zuko joined the gaang but i tried to split it into parts so hopefully it wasn’t too disjointed 😐

Thank you for all the likes and support it means a lot :)

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #atla #atla zuko #atla zuko imagine #atla imagine #avatar #avatar zuko #avatar imagine #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #prince zuko #fire nation #iroh #general iroh #mai #atla mai #avatar mai #atla tylee #ty lee #avatar ty lee #avatar azula #azula #atla azula #fire nation royalty #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #aang #sokka

[slashersins]

What would Thomas Hewitt (and maybe Bubba too if you're up for it!) and his s.o argue about the most? How would he react to conflicts? What are the absolute NOT to do when arguing with him? What would making up to each other look like? 😳 Sorry for a long request! You can cut them short if you want to!

Love your writings!❤

oooooh . this is gonna be fun and maybe a little painful 

What would Thomas Hewitt (and maybe Bubba too if you're up for it!) and his s.o argue about the most? How would he react to conflicts? What are the absolute NOT to do when arguing with him? What would making up to each other look like? 😳 Sorry for a long request! You can cut them short if you want to!

Love your writings!❤

thomas 

conflict : your attempts in helping catch or handle the meat . and getting hurt . 

you want to be useful . you want to help . typically you do mundane tasks . laundry , dishes , house cleaning , helping luda cook . the family , thomas especially , doesn’t want you interacting with or having anything to do with the meat . 

but that doesn’t stop you from trying to make the meat feel comfortable before they’re brought to the basement . trying to lure them into the house if thomas is down in the basement , luda is at the store , and hoyt is out on the roads . maybe they came from the opposite direction , not yet on hoyt’s radar . they stop for some help , or just a break . and you let them in . should you do it ? no . did you do it ? yes . you saw your chance and you took it .

it didn’t end well . thomas came upstairs as you were pouring the meat some tea and idly chatting . he was startled , caught of guard , scared for you , and then furious . the sight of thomas in grime and sweat and filth from being in the basement working on the previous catch didn’t exactly sit well with the guests . panic ensued and now it was only you and thomas against three boys and two girls who were freaking out . then . . . then hoyt showed up . and he was none too pleased . 

the resulting situation ended in blood and gore and injuries for most . hoyt was steaming , furious and yelling at both you and tommy . and tommy . . . that gentle giant of a man was shaking in his fury . 

he glares at you , the harshest he’s ever looked , anger radiating off him in waves . what where you thinking ? why couldn’t you have just left them alone ? why didn’t you get him as soon as you heard their car ? why did you do something so reckless ? 

thomas might try to ignore you . might shove past you , hands balled into white knuckled fists . he wants to shake you , to show you how worried you made him , but he can’t . he’s at his limit . hurt in more ways than one . 

the do nots : don’t try to grab at him and argue when he’s in this mood . 

you want to talk to him . but you’re frustrated . tugging harshly on his arm and demanding him to look at you , getting in his face while he’s in this state is no good . he’s already on edge , already seeing red , don’t give him a reason to push you away harshly and possibly hurt you , even if accidental . he’s too worked up . 

don’t try say that you wanted to help . don’t try to talk sense into him . he won’t listen . he needs time to cool off . let tommy have some peace . give tommy time . you both need it . 

the make up : thomas will come to see you when he’s ready .

it’ll be hard . hoyt will be pissed off for a while . luda worried about you and tommy . monty is monty . but thomas . . . he’s spent a day or two alone , not even coming up for dinner as he works and let’s off steam in the basement . but once he calms down , once the fear of losing you , the anger at your well guided but misjudged decision finally eases from a boil to a simmer to nothing at all , he is coming to check on you . 

he stands in the door way , half bent to not hit his head . and he’s watching you . looking over you with worry and concern . he’s scared to come in more than he already is . scared you’ll push him away . he knows how he looks and acts when he’s angry . he knows he can be terrifying . 

but when you look up and see him there , see the ache in his eyes and the longing . the heartbreak and worry . you’re rushing him , hugging him and holding him impossibly tight as you apologize . you’d just wanted to help . you wanted to be useful . you didn’t mean for this kind of thing to happen . for anyone to get hurt . you’re sorry you made thomas so angry . you missed him . you missed him so much . 

thomas holds you back . his hugs and shaking hands as he looks and checks over you is enough to tell you that it’s forgiven . the way he looks at you begs you not to do something like that again . please , y/n . rely on him . rely on hoyt . don’t put yourself in danger . he can’t lose you . 

now that tommy is calm it’s easier to talk and explain yourself . it’s more of a conversation and less of an argument now . and despite knowing where you’re coming from , thomas isn’t going to agree to let you help with the meat . he’s much happier when you do your part by keeping out of the way . 

bubba 

conflict : going on long walks without really telling anyone . 

stuck in a house with bubba , nubbins , chop top , and drayton can be fine and dandy when everyone is in a good mood . but it’s a lot of energy . it takes so much to put up with such wild personalities . it can get too much . and you need a break . you can’t keep having your personal space invaded and you just need some fresh air . to get out for just a little bit . just to be alone with your thoughts . 

so you go out . you’ve spent time walking outside with bubba or running around with nubbins and chop top , so you know your way around . and the hot texas sun and somewhat cool breeze is calming . the smell of nature and rich colors that surround you gives you exactly what you need . but you lose track of time .

maybe you decide to sit under a tree and take a nap . maybe you walk a little too far and now it takes a while to come back . either way , it’s dark when you get back . and you’re greeted by panic in the sawyer house hold . bubba is beside himself . angry and sobbing and scared . the rest of the brother’s aren’t fairing well either . with bubba like this nothing can get done . 

you’ve never seen bubba like this . you’ve seen him sad plenty of times . but when he sees you there’s a slight anger . no relief or joy that usually lights up those pretty dark eyes . no . he thought you left him . you did leave him . why ? why did you leave him ? he thought you were gone forever . 

the do nots : don’t fight him , shove him off , or tell him to leave you alone . 

you were gone for the entire day . he searched and raced to find you , only to not find a trace . he spent all day worrying and sobbing . so upset when he found you were missing . he needs to cling to you , to hold you a little too tight . he might drag you to your shared room , or even your basement . he might even take out the rope and try to tie you to the bed or whatever surface he can . you can’t leave him again . he doesn’t want to do this like he used to , but he can’t risk you leaving again .

it’s frustrating , you’re bound to get angry at this , at bubba’s lack of trust . but please try to calm down , try to rationalize . bubba is a simple man with simple needs and many many insecurities . his fear is ruling him right now . so let him do what he needs . let him work through his panic and smother you with attention for the moment . 

the make up : talk to him . hold him . reassure him .

bubba does feel bad for tying you back up . he really does . he knows you hate it , and he hates seeing you like it . it’s this reason that when he’s calm and not crying that you can talk to him . he’ll hesitantly take off whatever cuff he put on you . whining over the reddened skin as he tied it too tightly . just pet his hair . tell him your sorry . tell him you forgiven him for his rash actions . 

explain to him why you left . that you just needed space . bubba will understand . a little bit . he needs to know you weren’t trying to leave him . he needs to know that you still love him . show this man that you’re sorry for scaring him like this .

bubba might keep a closer eye on you , shuffling nervously as he sees you put on shoes to go outside . just give bubba a kiss on his cheek , tell him you need some time alone , tell him where you’re gonna be walking . he’ll feel better knowing you won’t be gone forever . 

#thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt x reader #bubba saywer x reader #thomas hewitt imagine #bubba sawyer imagine #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #slasher #slashers #slashers x reader

[slashersins-abandoned]

anonymous asked : 

What would Thomas Hewitt (and maybe Bubba too if you're up for it!) and his s.o argue about the most? How would he react to conflicts? What are the absolute NOT to do when arguing with him? What would making up to each other look like? 😳 Sorry for a long request! You can cut them short if you want to!

Love your writings! ❤

thomas

conflict : your attempts in helping catch or handle the meat . and getting hurt .

you want to be useful . you want to help . typically you do mundane tasks . laundry , dishes , house cleaning , helping luda cook . the family , thomas especially , doesn’t want you interacting with or having anything to do with the meat .

but that doesn’t stop you from trying to make the meat feel comfortable before they’re brought to the basement . trying to lure them into the house if thomas is down in the basement , luda is at the store , and hoyt is out on the roads . maybe they came from the opposite direction , not yet on hoyt’s radar . they stop for some help , or just a break . and you let them in . should you do it ? no . did you do it ? yes . you saw your chance and you took it .

it didn’t end well . thomas came upstairs as you were pouring the meat some tea and idly chatting . he was startled , caught of guard , scared for you , and then furious . the sight of thomas in grime and sweat and filth from being in the basement working on the previous catch didn’t exactly sit well with the guests . panic ensued and now it was only you and thomas against three boys and two girls who were freaking out . then … then hoyt showed up . and he was none too pleased .

the resulting situation ended in blood and gore and injuries for most . hoyt was steaming , furious and yelling at both you and tommy . and tommy … that gentle giant of a man was shaking in his fury .

he glares at you , the harshest he’s ever looked , anger radiating off him in waves . what where you thinking ? why couldn’t you have just left them alone ? why didn’t you get him as soon as you heard their car ? why did you do something so reckless ?

thomas might try to ignore you . might shove past you , hands balled into white knuckled fists . he wants to shake you , to show you how worried you made him , but he can’t . he’s at his limit . hurt in more ways than one .

the do nots : don’t try to grab at him and argue when he’s in this mood .

you want to talk to him . but you’re frustrated . tugging harshly on his arm and demanding him to look at you , getting in his face while he’s in this state is no good . he’s already on edge , already seeing red , don’t give him a reason to push you away harshly and possibly hurt you , even if accidental . he’s too worked up .

don’t try say that you wanted to help . don’t try to talk sense into him . he won’t listen . he needs time to cool off . let tommy have some peace . give tommy time . you both need it .

the make up : thomas will come to see you when he’s ready .

it’ll be hard . hoyt will be pissed off for a while . luda worried about you and tommy . monty is monty . but thomas … he’s spent a day or two alone , not even coming up for dinner as he works and let’s off steam in the basement . but once he calms down , once the fear of losing you , the anger at your well guided but misjudged decision finally eases from a boil to a simmer to nothing at all , he is coming to check on you .

he stands in the door way , half bent to not hit his head . and he’s watching you . looking over you with worry and concern . he’s scared to come in more than he already is . scared you’ll push him away . he knows how he looks and acts when he’s angry . he knows he can be terrifying .

but when you look up and see him there , see the ache in his eyes and the longing . the heartbreak and worry . you’re rushing him , hugging him and holding him impossibly tight as you apologize . you’d just wanted to help . you wanted to be useful . you didn’t mean for this kind of thing to happen . for anyone to get hurt . you’re sorry you made thomas so angry . you missed him . you missed him so much .

thomas holds you back . his hugs and shaking hands as he looks and checks over you is enough to tell you that it’s forgiven . the way he looks at you begs you not to do something like that again . please , y/n . rely on him . rely on hoyt . don’t put yourself in danger . he can’t lose you .

now that tommy is calm it’s easier to talk and explain yourself . it’s more of a conversation and less of an argument now . and despite knowing where you’re coming from , thomas isn’t going to agree to let you help with the meat . he’s much happier when you do your part by keeping out of the way .

bubba

conflict : going on long walks without really telling anyone .

stuck in a house with bubba , nubbins , chop top , and drayton can be fine and dandy when everyone is in a good mood . but it’s a lot of energy . it takes so much to put up with such wild personalities . it can get too much . and you need a break . you can’t keep having your personal space invaded and you just need some fresh air . to get out for just a little bit . just to be alone with your thoughts .

so you go out . you’ve spent time walking outside with bubba or running around with nubbins and chop top , so you know your way around . and the hot texas sun and somewhat cool breeze is calming . the smell of nature and rich colors that surround you gives you exactly what you need . but you lose track of time .

maybe you decide to sit under a tree and take a nap . maybe you walk a little too far and now it takes a while to come back . either way , it’s dark when you get back . and you’re greeted by panic in the sawyer house hold . bubba is beside himself . angry and sobbing and scared . the rest of the brother’s aren’t fairing well either . with bubba like this nothing can get done .

you’ve never seen bubba like this . you’ve seen him sad plenty of times . but when he sees you there’s a slight anger . no relief or joy that usually lights up those pretty dark eyes . no . he thought you left him . you did leave him . why ? why did you leave him ? he thought you were gone forever .

the do nots : don’t fight him , shove him off , or tell him to leave you alone .

you were gone for the entire day . he searched and raced to find you , only to not find a trace . he spent all day worrying and sobbing . so upset when he found you were missing . he needs to cling to you , to hold you a little too tight . he might drag you to your shared room , or even your basement . he might even take out the rope and try to tie you to the bed or whatever surface he can . you can’t leave him again . he doesn’t want to do this like he used to , but he can’t risk you leaving again .

it’s frustrating , you’re bound to get angry at this , at bubba’s lack of trust . but please try to calm down , try to rationalize . bubba is a simple man with simple needs and many many insecurities . his fear is ruling him right now . so let him do what he needs . let him work through his panic and smother you with attention for the moment .

the make up : talk to him . hold him . reassure him .

bubba does feel bad for tying you back up . he really does . he knows you hate it , and he hates seeing you like it . it’s this reason that when he’s calm and not crying that you can talk to him . he’ll hesitantly take off whatever cuff he put on you . whining over the reddened skin as he tied it too tightly . just pet his hair . tell him your sorry . tell him you forgiven him for his rash actions .

explain to him why you left . that you just needed space . bubba will understand . a little bit . he needs to know you weren’t trying to leave him . he needs to know that you still love him . show this man that you’re sorry for scaring him like this .

bubba might keep a closer eye on you , shuffling nervously as he sees you put on shoes to go outside . just give bubba a kiss on his cheek , tell him you need some time alone , tell him where you’re gonna be walking . he’ll feel better knowing you won’t be gone forever .

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt imagine #thomas hewitt x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer imagine #bubba saywer x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher imagine #slashers imagine #slasher x reader #slashers x reader

[moonwaif]

So I've been thinking about some CQL crossover ships for Xie Wang, and one of them is XieWang/Lan Xichen. Long post with headcanons under the cut.

Also, like. I guess all of these take place within a xianxia/cultivation universe? More high fantasy than the universe of SHL. And none of this is based on novel universe for either fandom--both are strictly SHL and CQL universes.

Xie Wang/Lan Xichen (aka Zewu-jun can have a murder boyfriend, as a treat.)

The Dynamic.

First off . . . there’s no age gap. Both of them are adults. I’m not sure how old either of them are exactly in their respective canons, but. I just want to make that clear.

Both have been deceived/manipulated by people they care about. Interpret it how you want to interpret it, but they gravely misunderstood one of the most important people in their lives and paid the price for it.

The, "No matter what you've done, I can't kill you" one is dating the "But I can!" one.

Also, like? Pipa and xiao jam sessions? Matching outfits? Sign me tf up.

The early stages.

I’m not sure how they would meet. Perhaps Xie Wang is on an undercover mission in Gusu. Meanwhile, Lan Xichen has finally left seclusion so that his brother can go on a honeymoon with the Yiling Laozu.

When Lan Xichen and Xie Wang meet, I think it would be nice for there to be instant attraction. This can be on a physical level, but also on an intellectual level. They both have silver tongues, are intuitive, and are excellent communicators. I think these two kings would recognize that in one another just after one interaction.

However, they don’t trust each other. Xie Wang is probably operating under some kind of alias. Lan Xichen is more guarded now. I’m sure he still wants to believe the best of people, but life has scarred him. He feels like Xie Wang may be hiding something. Xie Wang, meanwhile, thinks Lan Xichen is just “too good to be true.” Someone with such a peerless reputation must be corrupt on the inside. I mean, just look at the Venerated Triad and how they ended up. Could the only surviving sworn brother really be THAT good?

But as time goes on, they see more sides of each other. It gets harder and harder to believe the worst about the other person. Xie Wang probably falls first, and falls hard. He likes Lan Xichen’s balanced outlook on life, his willingness to overlook rumor and reputation and make his own judgments on a person’s character. In an unguarded moment, Lan Xichen might imply that this has been one of his flaws or weaknesses in the past. Xie Wang just smiles at him and says it’s a strength. (Lan Xichen’s heart flutters, but so what? He doesn’t feel like he can trust his heart yet.)

Anyway, back to Xie Wang. He is impressed by Lan Xichen’s acceptance of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian--particularly considering Wei Wuxian’s less than pristine background. I think there is a lot of good material here for some intimate conversations in which Xie Wang asks Lan Xichen about his opinion of Wei Wuxian, but he’s not actually talking abou Wei Wuxian--he’s really asking about himself.

The ordeal of being Known.

Nevertheless, Xie Wang doesn’t completely trust Lan Xichen yet, and he’s terrified of what will happen when Lan Xichen finds out who he is, but . . . Xie Wang still cares about him. He enjoys Lan Xichen’s company. He craves Lan Xichen’s praise and attention, and resents anyone who tries to steal it away. He wants their time together to last as long as possible. And inevitably, he wants to do whatever he can to help Lan Xichen succeed in his goals. Which, to Xie Wang’s surprise, have less to do with personal gain and more to do with making a positive impact on the cultivation world. As more time passes, it gets harder and harder for Xie Wang to play it cool and hold his cards to his chest.

Lan Xichen is touched by Xie Wang’s earnesty, enthusiasm and loyalty. It softens his heart. He finds himself growing fond of Xie Wang’s company, looking forward to his visits, indulging in conversations about music and art and calligraphy and politics. At the same time, he witnesses instances of violence and cruelty from Xie Wang that disturb him. It reminds him of Jin Guanyao--the red flags that in the past Lan Xichen either rationalized or ignored. It puts Lan Xichen in this awkward position of growing closer to Xie Wang, opening up to him, only to pull back suddenly. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Xie Wang, of course, doesn’t really know what’s going on in Lan Xichen’s head. Fortunately, he’s perceptive. As he does more digging into Lan Xichen’s past, he probably puts two and two together and realizes that Lan Xichen is trying to protect his own heart. However, he’ll also wonder if Lan Xichen knows more than he’s letting on--if he is perhaps aware of Xie Wang’s true identity, and that’s why he won’t open up to him. Or perhaps it’s just Xie Wang’s personal flaws. He’s always been too impulsive, too selfish, too distracting. Someone of Lan Xichen’s calibre may find these characteristics distasteful.

I actually think Lan Xichen may put the pieces together and begin to suspect Xie Wang’s true identity. If Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are around, they would probably do the same and accelerate this realization. However, I am not sure that Lan Xichen would act immediately on it. He may instead try to give Xie Wang opportunities to come forward with the truth on his own.

Xie Wang will dodge all of these opportunities like “lol nope.”

Cat’s out of the bag.

Anyway, after lots of like. Cute moments, and moments of camaraderie, and moments of yearning and angst, things finally come to a head. Perhaps Lan Xichen finds himself caught up in a scheme that involves the Scorpion and a rival group. Xie Wang ends up having to take Lan Xichen captive in order to protect him. In this moment, Lan Xichen is able to see another side of Xie Wang--one that he’s only caught glimpses of before. Xie Wang is cold, domineering, calculating, and cruel. It’s sexy but also terrifying. Lan Xichen hardens his own expression and is quite distant to Xie Wang, which of course just breaks Xie Wang’s heart. But Xie Wang can’t show it just yet, not while they are still surrounded by onlookers. It wouldn’t be wise to reveal any weaknesses to those who are constantly at the ready to take advantage of any vulnerable bits.

As soon as Xie Wang can find a moment to be alone with Lan Xichen (truly alone, with no spies or eavesdroppers), he would sit down and speak honestly with him. He tells Lan Xichen that he harbors no ill intentions towards him or the Lan sect (or perhaps he does, at least with concern to the latter--it’s up to how complicated you imagine this kind of AU). And against his better judgment, the more Lan Xichen hears . . . the more he finds himself believing Xie Wang. In fact, he’s relieved that they can finally reach this point of honesty with each other.

Lan Xichen is terrified he’s making a mistake, but . . . he wants to believe Xie Wang. He wants to believe him so, so badly. After some difficult conversations and lots of promises exchanged between them, Lan Xichen relents.

Xie Wang is just absolutely delighted to the point of tears. All of his softness and sweetness comes back.

From this point on, I think we can see a power couple at work. Both of them are intuitive, intelligent and nuanced. They can work together to solve whatever scheme is happening. Collaborating brings them closer, honestly.

Xie Wang is reluctant to let Lan Xichen go, but does so. (He’s mostly worried about Lan Xichen’s safety.)

(If you want to make things really painful, you could have Lan Xichen temporarily reject Xie Wang. This would probably be motivated by Lan Xichen’s past experiences, when he continued to support and defend Jin Guangyao despite all evidence to the contrary. Terrified of making the same mistake--of letting people he cares about become hurt because of a temporary lack of judgment--might actually lead him to betray Xie Wang and reveal his true identity to the Lan clan. This would lead to a temporary and very angsty “break up” arc. The irony could be that Lan Xichen actually regrets NOT trusting Xie Wang or supporting him down the road. I would like to see something like this culminate in Xie Wang being injured/narrowly escaping a dangerous confrontation with an enemy, and Lan Xichen rescuing him, holding him close, and whispering, “I’m sorry.” GOD Xie Wang would just fall apart. The hurt/comfort potential. My word.)

Hurt/comfort potential.

At some point, Xie Wang might be injured or suffer some kind of loss. Perhaps he went after someone who was a threat to Lan Xichen in some way, and got himself in a pickle. He makes it out, but is the worse for wear. Lan Xichen, who is normally so polite and intentional with his words, finds himself losing his temper. How could Xie Wang make such a rash decision? Isn’t he supposed to be the Scorpion King for a reason?

These words push Xie Wang over the edge. He snaps back that yes, he knows he’s reckless--that he’s too impulsive--too demanding--that he’s always letting his emotions get the best of him, again and again. But he was scared for Lan Xichen. What was he supposed to do, just sit back and bear it?

Lan Xichen’s anger dissipates. He consoles Xie Wang, tells him that he’s not any of those things. Xie Wang is shocked speechless. He’s even more shocked when Lan Xichen admits he was wrong for speaking harshly and asks for Xie Wang’s forgiveness. “It was only that seeing you in this state unnerved me. I would not want any harm to come to you on my account. I’m sorry.”

Xie Wang melts.

Xie Wang drinks vinegar.

Being together means that Xie Wang and Lan Xichen are more intimate. They are moving physically closer, becoming more familiar with one another’s spaces. Xie Wang is very greedy for this closeness, and probably starts to become a little possessive about the things in Lan Xichen’s room. Keeping things tidy, adding decorations, sorting through things, etc.

Anyway, one day he comes across Jin Guangya’s hat by accident.

“Gege :+) who’s hat is this? :+)”

He begins to engage in a recurring fantasy where he slices the hat to pieces.

It’s just that, well. Xie Wang is intensely jealous of Jin Guangyao’s hat. He is intensely jealous of Jin Guangyao’s memory. Just hearing his name is enough to make Xie Wang lose it a little on the inside, like, “Not this b**** again.” But on the outside he is very calm.

Most of the time.

Look. It’s already hard enough knowing that someone like Xie Wang, the leader of a shady group of assassins, will probably never be accepted as a suitable partner for Lan Xichen. And this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. He’s been used before by Zhao Jing, the person who was supposed to be his yifu, the person who kept Xie Wang in the dark and only brought him into the light when it was useful. So Xie Wang can’t help but feel nervous that Lan Xichen will just want to keep him in the dark, too. Like logically, he knows Lan Xichen wouldn’t do that. Lan Xichen is a better person than that, he wouldn’t take advantage of anyone in that way, especially not Xie Wang! Lan Xichen cares about Xie Wang! But Xie Wang also knows he’s miscalculated in the past. He can’t help the nugget of uncertainty that weasels its way in.

You can play this up as angsty if you want, or you can play it for comedy. Maybe Lan Xichen receives a gift from a potential suitor. Xie Wang sees it and asks who it’s from. On his best day, he smiles calmly and says something like, “How elegant and thoughtful. I know just the place to put this.” (That place is the trash.) On his worst day, he wines and says, “How tacky! Gege, why do you continue to even meet with that old cow?”

Lan Xichen is exceptionally understanding and patient, although he does need to set some firm boundaries from time to time.

Jin Guangyao causes drama from beyond the grave.

Eventually Xie Wang is going to have a very off-day. And on this off-day, he talks about a topic that he should definitely have avoided, which is Jin Guangyao.

Basically, Xie Wang is not going to understand why Lan Xichen feels guilty for what happened to Jin Guangyao. Or rather, he does not believe that Lan Xichen SHOULD feel guilty. And he tells Lan Xichen this, very insistently. Lan Xichen, who has been coping through the good ole Lan technique of Repress And Don’t Express, becomes frustrated. His frustration builds when Xie Wang basically says that no matter what Jin Guangyao may have suffered, he shouldn’t have betrayed Lan Xichen--that Jin Guangyao even deserves what happened to him (and perhaps Xie Wang believes this last part, or perhaps he’s just being petty--it’s up to you). Lan Xichen almost loses his temper--almost. But then he just. Shuts down, completely. Like very coldly and calmly says something to the effect of, “I expected you of all people to understand me. I see I was mistaken. Excuse me.” And just. Leaves.

Xie Wang is a MESS. Honestly he would have preferred being yelled at. This calm reaction is disconcerting and makes him worry that he’s lost Lan Xichen for good. He’s also shocked at himself for being so purposefully wilful and obstinate. He was trying to be good!!

Making up.

Instead of pulling away, Xie Wang waits an appropriate amount of time for things to settle (lmao like 12 hours), then shows right back up acting like nothing ever happened. He’s very talkative and sweet, chatting peacefully about unrelated topics. He probably flits about the room, straightening this and that, then perches beside Lan Xichen. His heart sinks when he sees Lan Xichen’s expression.

Xie Wangs cautiously begins speaking. “About yesterday . . . I shouldn’t have contradicted you. I was being difficult and impetuous. Gege, please forgive me.”

And like, what is Lan Xichen supposed to do with that? Say “no”? Lmao.

Fortunately, Lan Xichen has taken some time to self-reflect. He’s a bit dismayed that he continues to act out of character with Xie Wang. Normally, he is so good at maintaining his composure. With Xie Wang, however, he continues to get caught up in his own feelings until he fumbles.

Anyway, Lan Xichen actually takes this opportunity to reflect and open up to Xie Wang about his friendship with Jin Guangyao. He tells him about what happened between him and his sworn brothers, where he believes he made mistakes, how he wishes things would have worked out differently. He also says that he sees it as a weakness of his own that even now, he isn’t able to completely blame Jin Guangyao. It’s not like this is Xie Wang’s first time hearing about any of this, but it IS his first time hearing the information directly from Lan Xichen.

Xie Wang takes his hand and says that kind of loyalty and kindness is what makes Lan Xichen dear to him, and is its own type of wisdom. Lan Xichen doesn’t completely agree with this assessment, but he doesn’t argue against it, either. He merely asks Xie Wang if there is anything else he’d like to know.

Xie Wang is a bit hesitant. Without meeting Lan Xichen’s gaze, he observes that Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen were very close. He wants to know what place Jin Guangyao still occupies in Lan Xichen’s heart.

To be continued . . .

(Lol I ran out of steam for a minute)

#xie wang #lan xichen #the untamed #word of honor #shl #woh #cql #shan he ling #chen qing ling #xie'er #implied past xiyao #sort of?

[lizacstuff]

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🤯🤯😭😭😱😤😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🤬🤬🤬🤬😭 What did you think of the episode? I always look forward to reading your thoughts.

Yep. Your emojis pretty much sum it up, don't they? LOL. I think the episode is decent in terms of quality, it was well-paced, very dramatic, the acting from Hande and Kerem was astounding, but watching it was just like constantly toggling between pain and fury, and that is not that fun.  

Part of me wants to say it was a well written episode, because it definitely made me feel and I thought it flowed well, but part of me wants to say it was terribly written because the number of contrivances and character assassinations (spoiler alert, I don’t list Serkan in that number) that had to occur to set it up is way too much. So maybe I'll settle on that the episode was well written, but the nonsense they needed to make it work was hackneyed. 

This was the first time I cursed the 2+ hour format. On shows I'm used to, if an episode is hard to take, you just have to suck it up for 42 minutes, 2+ hours was a lot of sucking it up.  My apologies in advance if I curse a LOT. I think I'm going to approach this by giving my take on each character in turn.  I'll start with the characters on the shit list and it will go from shittiest to slightly less shity.  Characters not on the shit list are down below. (spoiler alert: Serkan and Eda are safely on the NOT shit list) 

(Keep reading below the cut)

CHARACTERS ON SHIT LIST

Selin - WTF? I've thought she was a huge, pathetic turd since episode 18, and I thought she left in a disgraceful way, siccing psycho Balca on him, and it was frustrating that she never had to answer for any of her psycho moves, but this is a new level of crazy, bitter, fucked up that I could not have imagined for her. The writers really said: how can we make her the worst person ever?  Plot wise, at least they made it make sense why he would call her. The last time period he remembers, she was his girlfriend. I get it, and I think I get why they did it. As I've said before, if amnesia Serkan wakes up and finds this amazingly beautiful woman standing over him, and finds out she's his fiancé, even if he doesn't remember her it's not the worst thing in the world. They decided, I suppose, to make their journey back together that much harder and earned. They wanted him in the least receptive frame of mind when he met the amazingly beautiful woman. Enter Selin to manipulate and poison his mind. And lose any last shred of dignity she might have retained from the first time around. 

Is there anyone who didn't want to slap the shit out of her every single second she appeared on screen? I have no idea where she got the confidence this episode. The only saving grace is the bitch is going down hard.  Piril and Ferit both tried to warn her, as did Eda, but it's not going to be pretty for her. And the only thing I hope is that she actually pays some sort of price other than the utter emotional devastation and humiliation she's going to get. Frankly, I think she should be charged with kidnapping since she was hiding someone with diminished capacity that was the subject of a missing persons case. (Aydan can go down with her for not reporting it) Outside of soap operas, that is criminal. However, I doubt any of that will happen, she'll just slink off once she's found out and Serkan turns on her. 

Aydan - WTF? I don't think any of us predicted she'd be a villain this episode, and this is the first of the character assassinations that was required to make the plot work. First, her son was in a plane crash, and is recovering from severe injuries, she gets a call from Selin and she doesn't grab Eda and catch the first plane to where he is? He has amnesia and she thinks he's able to make rational, proper decisions? So she just respects his wishes not to be disturbed and leaves him with his obsessed ex-girlfriend? Who is this woman? Not Aydan. For the first 16 episodes she didn't give a damn about what Serkan wanted, she imposed her will on him and even though he resisted, she never lost him. She thinks she's going to lose him by flying to his bedside and bringing the love of his life? This makes no sense. Second, she allows devastated Eda to continue being in the AGONY of not knowing what happened to Serkan??? FUCK OFF, AYDAN. But again character assassination required to see it work. 

The one thing that's sort of in character, I think, is her hedging her bets with Selin and Eda. I've always said her acceptance of Eda was born out of self-interest. True, she saw how devastated Serkan was when they broke up and she wanted him to be happy, but mostly because she found out he was moving away from her and she thought she was losing him. She's a shrewd woman and she saw that the path to keeping him was Eda, so she got on the Eda train. I do think she genuinely cares for Eda, but if the Selin engagement lasts more than a couple days I could see her not fighting it like she should. Because where was she this episode in trying to get through to him? I get that everything happened over two short days, but she could have tried harder to talk sense into him and to probe for what Selin was feeding him. And she could have questioned Selin a whole helluva lot more. 

Piril - WTF? What is with Serkan's best friends just accepting Selin back into the fold under these circumstances? How is Piril not furious that Selin knew her good friend and business partner was alive and didn't tell her??? Selin let Piril and Engin continue to mourn him and think he was dead when he was alive, and Piril is calling her her good friend? WHAT THE FUCK? I'm not sure if this is character assassination because Piril is a bit of an odd ball, but this is assassination on just basic human reactions. Who wouldn't be furious? Who wouldn't be repulsed and incensed that she tried to move in on a brain-damaged man who had been about to marry someone else? 

Piril doesn't even need to be his best friend or to have participated in all his wedding festivities to know that's fucked up. How was Piril not screaming "BITCH YOU BE CRAZY" at her?  Like it takes Olympic level handwaving to accept Piril's conversation with Selin. Especially since she knows Selin wanted to ruin his happiness at all costs! Yes, she at least brought up the subject and very weakly said "You know we all know they are very much in love" and warned her that things might end badly, but it should have been a helluva lot stronger than that, and she should have been furious.  

Ayfer - She actually didn't do much this episode, which is the problem, because she also did very little to support Eda. TBH, I can't stand her to begin with so she makes it to this spot on the list, above people who should have been better. 

Engin - He gets a few points for telling Serkan the story and trying to bring it up again, however, he just always stopped shy from actually defending Eda or really probing for what Selin told Serkan. Again, there's a short timeline, and maybe he's planning to do it and not overwhelm Serkan, which isn't a bad thing. I just don't feel like he relayed how happy Serkan became after he met Eda. Though, to be fair, I sort of get why we didn't get really heartfelt testimonials for Eda, we want Serkan to start to fall for her again without being told to. I think they're going for a situation where Selin is the only voice in his ear, poisoning him against Eda, but even under those odds, he'll fall for her again. 

But his interactions with Serkan are not why he's on the shit list. He makes this list for just seemingly accepting Selin back and not voicing any concerns over her UTTERLY, PSYCHO, BIZARRE, eFFED UP behavior. Everything I said about Piril applies here. How is he okay that she kept the news of Serkan's survival from his best friend and business partner? Engin was the person Serkan confided in, he knows how he felt about both of those women. How is he not calling Selin out to her face?? So I don't need his friends to be in his ear telling him how much he loves Eda, but I do need them in his ear poking holes in the nonsense Selin is telling him and setting him straight on the state of their relationship when the plane went down. And I need them to be calling Selin out to her face. 

Erdem - He remains on the shitlist for gargantuan dumbassery not committed this episode.  Ferit - Ferit is low down on the shit list, but he still makes it for once again not coming down HARD on Selin. As her ex-fiancé he's in a unique position to call her out, and while he did issue her a warning, trying to soften it in terms of him not wanting her to get hurt was weak and ineffective and it feels like maybe he is still harboring feelings for her. UGH. Man, stop it! What is attractive about this bitter, manipulative psycho? Get in there and battle her on her own terms. Threaten her with the truth, push her, make her feel pushed into the corner so she gets reckless. Threaten to tell Serkan in front of her about the conversation you overheard that made you decide to leave her at the wedding table. Do something, and make it not for her own good. 

NOT SHIT LIST  Leyla - Little she could have done, in light of her relationship with one year ago Serkan, but it would be nice if at some point she gets some sort of dig in at him, "You were a better person after you met Eda."   Seyfi - It seemed like he was in the dark about Serkan being alive, Aydan must have kept it from even him, so he can be on this list. (Again Aydan would never keep it from Seyfi, so more OOC from her)

Deniz - So far he seems like a genuine, not psycho guy. He might be harboring feelings for Eda, but he didn't do anything creepy and was genuinely there for her more than almost anyone else. Did anyone catch the vibe between him and Ceren when she was leaving his shop? Ceren wasn't even mad at Ferit at that point, but there was a definite... charged moment. However this show does that from time to time, remember when Fifi seemed to have a weird tension-y moment with what's his name, Babaanne's bodyguard in one of his first episodes? That never surfaced again. 

Ceren - She was trying her best to be there for Eda. 

Melo - She was trying her best to be there for Eda. 

Sirius - Good boy! You know who your mama is. 

Serkan - Look, Serkan was a grade A asshole (you were right, Kerem) this episode. However, I have so much sympathy for him. He is a VICTIM. The man was in a plane that went down, had injuries including a traumatic brain injury, and lost the last year of his life. He appeared to be having some sort of PTSD with the nightmares. (Also thank you jebus he's sleeping on the cabin couch and that witch was going to her own home at night in Istanbul).  It's natural he called the person who he thought was his girlfriend. He was not to know that she's an evil psycho who was going to brainwash him. She is manipulating him, and I'll say it again, he is her victim. Also, I know lots of people think he was out of character and more harsh than he was in the pilot. He definitely was harsher than the pilot, but I don't think he was out of character.  In this episode, think of him as episode 3 Robot Bolat, but throw in having amnesia, experiencing trauma, being brainwashed by someone he trusts, and suffering from PTSD. 

It's a lot. He was so overwhelmed. I say episode 3 Serkan, because that's when Serkan realized he was starting to fall in love with Eda and it caused him to freak the fuck out and he was so cruel to her. He was a grade A asshole then too and we had that again, but heightened, in this episode. Sounds like he had these inklings of feelings before he even came back (he told Engin) that he didn't know what they were, but clearly they confused and frightened him, just like in episode 3. This is a man who doesn't believe in love. So to find out that he not only fell in love, but he fell so hard he became someone he doesn't recognize, I think made him recoil even faster and further, especially after Selin had brainwashed him into thinking he was manipulated into it by a bad person. So every time that Eda came near him and it affected him, whether it was physically like his heart, or that ineffable pull he felt, it made him retreat to a robotic defensive position. He didn't understand the feelings, they confused him and Selin made him fear them. Plus you add in how emotional Eda was, including the slap, and it was more than he could handle. 

It was enjoyable to watch the moments where Eda affected him, (kudos Kerem because you could see it on his face). However, those moments just pushed him into a corner, so he retreated to the place he thought was safe, which is Selin. He said it to Engin, in his retrograde amnesia mind, everything had changed but her (little does he know). It's interesting that the few flashes of Eda he had were from very early episodes. So he's not flashing to when he was fully in love with Eda, and was sure of his own heart and mind. He's flashing back to when he first started falling in love and was also scared, confused and felt out of control. And remember he's a control freak. So I'm sure that a taste of those wild, exciting, out-of-control, confusing first feelings are also fueling his current crazed state of mind. 

And that's how the events unfolded, with that state of mind. When Eda kissed him, he felt it, and it scared the crap out of him. And he said it right there in the moment, he wasn't going to let her "confuse" him, and he was going to put an end to it.  And that's what he did, try to put an end to those very confusing feelings for a person he's been told is trying to manipulate him and take advantage of him. So to make the out-of-control feelings stop, the robot malfunctioned and did the one thing he thought would get Eda to stop pushing him and shut all of it down. He proposed to the person who currently represents safety and for whom there are no confusing, wild, uncontrolled feelings. He doesn't love Selin, so there are no scary emotions attached. But did you see him when he made that speech? He was confused, and stuttering, and stumbling and looked dazed af. That's someone in acute crisis. And that shot of his face when he's hugging Selin? He looks like someone just shat on his head. Could he be more miserable?  Poor baby. 

Eda - THE REAL POOR BABY!  And the other victim in all this. Hande knocked it out of the park! She was so good. How many times did she break me this episode? A bunch. I loved that Eda was unwavering in her belief that Serkan was alive, even though everyone else had given up (except Aydan the lying sack of shit). I'm glad we know that Eda was so upset she wasn't leaving her room or eating, but I'm also glad we didn't see that. It's enough to know she started out devastated without the viewer having to wallow in it in an already upsetting episode, it was a smart move to immediately time jump 2 months. However, she wouldn't be Eda if she wasn't able to pick herself up and do what needed to be done. Which in this case was take care of Sirius, take over the firm, and keep track of the manhunt for Serkan. That's a lot on her plate, and of course she thrived. 

It was nice the whole company was behind her when she brought home the award, too bad they couldn't have backed her up like that when it came to Selin!  (pick a side, Piril!) They all need to stop acting like it's normal what Selin did! It's not normal!!!! Stop normalizing it and her! It felt like Eda was being gaslit at times, like none of the people Serkan remembered cared that Selin had obviously been preying on someone sick and injured and with diminished mental capacity. Why were they all like that!?!?!  I know, because if they’d reacted like a normal person would, Selin couldn’t have continued the charade. 

I was wondering how their first meeting would go down and Eda fainting seems entirely appropriate. And of course, he caught her without even knowing it's his job, “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”  *sob*  Eda pulling out the old classics to get him to remember was the best. Even through the pain and fury, I thoroughly enjoyed many of those moments. I, along with everyone, was thrilled to see the handcuffs back. Good move, Eda! And they fell right back into bickering and bantering. Though I think they should have taken his car, because all their memories are driving together in that car.

Bless her heart, she was doing everything to jog his memory, and I applaud that. But on one hand I think maybe she made a critical error in being so emotional (not that she could help it) because he was really freaked out by her, and I know she had been put through the wringer and Serkan not remembering her was the blow to end all blows, but she sort of lost it during that first meeting. And he was so overwhelmed that of course he shut all the way down. The truth is it's not his fault he had amnesia, he's a victim. She's totally entitled to those feelings, and the anger at him and the situation and the universe, but in trying to get through to him the heightened emotion might have been a critical error, because he just wasn't receptive to listening to her after that. On the other hand, that's how their relationship has been from the start. She's emotional and spontaneous and fiery and he navigates it. So one might hope it would spark something that he would remember. 

Same thing goes for the confrontation at his house.  He was such a dick, and she broke my heart, but she was so overwrought that I don't think Serkan of a year ago, who has now been traumatized and manipulated, could handle it and it caused him to become the worst version of himself. Again I don't fault Eda, most of us would have collapsed due to the sheer weight of what she'd been through, but her approach, coming in hot, did fuel the situation and I can see how Serkan got to that emotional place. 

At least they gave me one thing I asked for! The password. Serkan, maybe stop saying it's something you would never do, when you demonstrably did it. You bought her a star and then the coordinates were your password.  At some point your brain needs to put two and two together here. But actually I want him to check and see that he really did name a star after her. Her stealthily leaving so she didn't have to give it to him, and thus not be able to change the password, was great.

As for the last scene, girlfriend was looking FIIIIINE when she walked in that restaurant and boyfriend was having to command himself to stop looking at her. The kiss was a big swing, but she had to try and I'm sure we all wanted to hug her when he malfunctioned and did a crazy thing out of sheer panic. 

We, along with Eda, were put through the wringer this episode, but we survived and it can't get worse... okay nevermind, I'm not going to say that. Instead I'll just say, it WILL GET BETTER. There will be a reward for this pain. It's coming. We will see his awakening feelings in the next episode, I know it! Just hang on! 

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen cal kapimi #edser #serkan bolat #eda yildiz #sckask #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #sck 1x29 #asklizac #anonymous #Anonymous