#my take on a season 2 extended cold open

[rosyblooom]

blooming season 🌷 (2) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans.

part 1 | part 2 <- | part 3

You're not sure how much time has passed since you entered the car, but it doesn't matter. It feels like an eternity. Everything feels overwhelming today—you're the mouse in a world full of elephants, and you don't know how to cope. You want to scream, but your voice feels strained; you want to cry, but there are no tears left. All you can do is sit idly in what feels like a tiny lifeboat in an ocean rippled by giant waves crashing straight at you.

"Feeling any better now?" Lando's voice interrupts the silence, pulling you out of your daze.

You snap your head sideways to face the brunette boy, your brows furrowing as you simply stare at him.

"Hey," he sneaks a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. "You've been quiet the whole ride. Are you feeling any better now?"

Narrowing your eyes, you fix him with a wary glare before rolling your eyes and bringing your feet to the edge of your seat, hugging your knees tightly. "What's it to you?" you finally respond, gazing through the window.

"Look, I'm trying to make things less… tense here. You could, you know, meet me halfway or something."

"How about you stop trying," you snap, glaring at the side of his face. "Just be quiet. Let's get your hand wrapped up, and then you can just leave."

Lando swallows, his eyes darting between you and the street ahead. "I don't think—"

You cut him off sharply, "Obviously, you just missed the freaking turn."

"What? No, I didn't, look," he points at the GPS that's currently rerouting. "Oh."

"Yeah…"

"No need to worry, it's already figuring out a new way. See?"

"Another inconvenience?" you ask, annoyance laced in each word. "Yeah, actually I do."

Lando purses his lips and drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "I'm guessing I'm the first inconvenience?"

"Wow, you can connect dots," you deadpan, sinking into your seat and resting your forehead against the vibrating window.

*********

The elevator door dings open, and you release a relieved breath upon finding its carriage empty. Lando enters first, settling into one side, while you press your back into the opposite wall.

"Let me guess," Lando begins, trailing his fingers up and down the row of twenty buttons, "your floor is the—"

"Sixth," you interject, your patience wearing thin as you take a step towards him and push the number six, causing it to light up.

Lando sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, nodding. "That was going to be my guess, you know?" He glances down at you, his gaze meeting yours briefly before drifting elsewhere.

Feeling hyperaware of his closeness, particularly the warmth emanating from him, you shift back into the opposite corner of the elevator, but he follows.

Your brow furrows as you grunt, "Personal space, remember?"

"Hold on a second." You feel the gentle touch of his hand atop your head, and moments later, he plucks something green from your hair, fixing you with a pointed look as he extends his palm to you. "A four-leaf clover," he exclaims, excitement glinting in his eyes. "Make a wish on it."

You swat his hand away from your face. "No thanks."

"What, there's nothing you want to have? Nothing you want to wish for?"

Sure, you have a wish—only one. You want your dad back, you want your old life back. The one that felt like summer every year, when there were no cold days.

Feeling the tightness in your throat as your vision blurs, you quickly blink away the incoming tears—you don't remember the last time you cried—and remark sharply, "No, I don't—nothing that's possible anyway. Keep it... or don't, I really don't care."

Just in time, the elevator door dings open, and you rush out of the tight space, desperate for more room.

*********

Fumbling with your key, it takes a few attempts before you finally manage to slot it into the keyhole, agitation coursing through your veins. With a satisfying click, you push the door open, only to find the apartment strangely empty.

Lando squeezes in behind you, causing you to stumble slightly before regaining your footing, shooting him a glare.

He strides down the hallway, with you trailing close behind, and into the brightly lit living room. The space is perfectly tidy, almost unnaturally so—there's not a single thing out of place.

"You sure you live here?" Lando glances back at you, eyebrows raised.

"No, I don't," you reply flatly, "this is actually where I bring idiot boys with no sense of self-preservation to kill."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening slowly. "So, you do have jokes then?"

You shrug and head down another hallway, making a beeline for your bedroom. As you push the door open, memories come flooding back—pictures of your dad adorn the walls, nestled in frames atop the dressers. It's like stepping into a time capsule; everything remains as it was four years ago, yet now it feels tainted.

Without wasting a moment's breath, you flip each picture frame on its head. The images taunt you with their stillness, incapable of conjuring the scent of Dad's favourite cologne or the resonance of his soothing voice. Pictures can't replicate the warmth of his hugs.

Once done, you kneel by your bedside table and retrieve a pair of scissors and bandages from the drawer.

"Now this looks more like it," a voice remarks behind you, causing you to startle and slam the drawer shut, rising to your feet. "This actually looks like someone lives here.”

Balling your empty hand into a fist, nails digging into your palm, you grit out, "I didn't tell you to follow me in here."

Lando raises his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, I was just worried. You were gone for a while, but uhm," he swallows, eyes flicking to the scissors you're clutching.

"Seriously?" you brandish the scissors, "I'm not going to stab you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Sure..."

With a sigh, you take a step forward, but he instinctively retreats, prompting you to shake your head and let out a chuckle—it's been awhile since you've done that.

"It's for the bandage," you remark, crossing your arms. "Also, you do realise you're the intruder here. If anyone should be scared, it's me. But I'm not a scaredy-cat, am I?"

"Neither am I," he insists, dropping his arms.

"Good. Let's head back to the kitchen, then."

*********

Lando leaps onto the counter, eliciting a groan from you as you cut the gauze into a shape that fits the wound on his palm.

Swiftly retrieving a clean tea towel from the cupboard, you situate yourself in front of him, arm extended. "Hand?"

He complies immediately, dropping his hand into your palm, and you begin to dab the skin around the cut dry. Once sure nothing is wet anymore, you reach for the gauze and carefully place it over the wound.

Lando hisses, causing you to tilt your head up, only for a sharp pain to suddenly spread atop your head. You both release loud groans, your hands instinctively moving to massage the throbbing spot on your head, while you watch Lando rubbing his chin.

"What the hell is your problem?" you finally manage after a while.

His eyes widen. "What the hell is my problem? You're the one who suddenly moved," he gestures to you, "you could've given me a heads up or something."

"How was I supposed to know you'd be hovering over me like some weirdo?" you retort.

Lando offers no response; instead, his lips gradually curve into a full-blown grin as he begins to chuckle.

You don’t react, simply staring at him blankly.

“C’mon, don’t lie now,” he says, tilting his head with a smile, “That was kinda funny, you have to admit.”

Despite theatrically rolling your eyes, a small smile betrays your true feelings. Still, you simply shrug and say, "Whatever."

"Alright, cool," Lando nods with a grin. "I'll take that. I'll take a 'whatever' anytime over all the other stuff you've been saying."

Taking the bandage from the counter, you close the gap between you, freeing his hand and delicately wrapping the bandage around the injury.

"You make me sound like a bitch," you mutter, flipping his hand over to inspect the wound. "I'm not—or at least I don't mean to be."

Lando props his free hand onto the counter behind him and leans back, raising his eyebrows. "To be honest, I thought that was the whole vibe you were going for."

You pause, setting the bandage roll on the counter and narrowing your gaze at him. Before you can respond, he quickly adds, "Hey, no judgment from me! I can handle difficult."

"Very funny," you say, shaking your head with a smile as you toss the tea towel into his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lando chuckles, retrieving the towel from his face and sliding it out of reach. When his gaze returns to you, his smile fades, and he simply stares, causing your expression to falter and your eyebrows to furrow.

"What do you think you’re looking at?" you snap, feeling as if you're suddenly trapped in a glass cage.

Leaning forward, a slow smile dances along Lando's lips. "You’re very pretty when you smile," he nods, "you should do that more often, it suits you."

Your expression falters, and you feel your heart sink with guilt. Today marks the fourth anniversary of your dad's passing—the first time you’ve felt strong enough to acknowledge it, to face the hurricane head-on—and here you are, spending it laughing, as if it's not a day plagued with immeasurable sadness and pain.

Isn’t that selfish?

It sure as hell feels like it.

Just like that, the walls rise once more as you fix Lando with a blank expression, swiftly grabbing the bandage roll off the counter. "Let’s just get this done, okay?" Your voice is strained—it scratches at your throat.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, confusion swimming in his bright eyes.

You swallow hard and grasp his hand, continuing to wrap up the wound wordlessly.

"I’m sorry," Lando tries again, "If I said something wrong, I’m sorry."

Sighing, you shake your head, and though you feel his gaze piercing your skull, you refuse to tilt your head up to meet his eyes head-on. "Nothing to apologise for," you state quietly, focusing on the task at hand.

This is exactly why you keep to yourself—your pain is yours alone to bear; it's unfair to burden others with it. You're not the same carefree, easily agreeable Y/N you once were back then. That part of you left the world today, four years ago, with your dad.

"Done," you declare, cutting the excess bandage and patting it down. Then, you create some much-needed distance between yourselves, heading towards the sofa and collapsing onto it.

"You know the way out," you yell, squeezing your eyes shut as you focus on your breathing.

The calm doesn’t linger for long, though, when you fail to hear footsteps or the door clicking open. You shoot upright, only to find Lando at the tap, an empty glass in his hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you ask, propping your elbows on the couch’s backrest.

"Getting some water," he gestures toward the faucet and flicks it on. "I’m thirsty."

"You can do that at your own place."

"What, go home for water and then come back?" he shoots you a perplexed look before taking a swig from his glass. "Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?"

Rising to your feet slowly, you make your way to the opposite end of the counter and lean against it, resting your hands on the cool surface. "And why would you even come back here?"

"For you to check up on me," he explains, waving his bandaged hand in the air, "make sure I don’t develop an infection. I’ve had one before, it was awful."

As if momentarily blinded by sunlight, you blink more than necessary as you process his words. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The cut, it could get infected after being exposed for so long. So, I think we should wait out the day," he shrugs, "just to make sure it doesn’t get worse."

"And why can't you just go to the hospital?" you press, confusion evident in your voice.

His lips curl into a sly smile as he scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know, you seem to know what you're doing. I trust you."

His admission knots your stomach—you can't recall the last time someone willingly stuck by you after all your attempts at self-sabotage.

You're a pusher. You push and push until people fall off the edge of the cliff, leaving you in the comfort of yourself. So, this catches you off-guard. But strangely enough, the proposal doesn’t make you squirm with disgust, but rather... want? You're not quite sure; it's an old feeling, one you struggle to understand.

"Fine, okay," you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief at your own acquiescence. "I think you're being dramatic, but fine."

Lando nods, a grin spreading slowly across his face. "Great."

The weight of today bears down on you, a stark reminder of your initial plans—ones you can't simply reschedule. No, these you can’t ignore; they're a boulder in your road. Today is the day you will visit your dad; today is the day you will see his tombstone for the very first time.

"I've got somewhere to be tonight," you say, twisting your fingers into painful yet somehow soothing shapes. "So you'll have to leave then. And I’ve got to run some errands throughout the day, so you can, I guess, join me... or you can just stay here—stay out of my fucking bedroom—and yeah, watch TV or whatever it is you do."

"Got any food?" Lando inquires, swinging open your refrigerator doors to reveal painfully empty shelves, save for a lone box of leftover takeout from last night.

"That's a negative," he answers his own question, closing the doors with a sigh before turning to face you. "Can we grab some food while we're out running errands?"

Your stomach grumbles in agreement before you can respond, so you simply nod, snatching up your keys. "We should go now, then."

Lando falls into step beside you in the hallway, and you shoot him a sideways glance, adding, "We'll handle my errand first, then we can grab food."

He holds the door open for you, gesturing for you to pass through. "No complaints from me."

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

TAGS: @leclercdream @evitarubio @landossainz @lottef1 @averymjn

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 fiction #lando x reader #lando x y/n #lando x you #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #lando norris drabble #ln4 one shot #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic

[leoascendente]

PAC/ Intuitive messages III

Hi my loves! Welcome to this new pac, again with intuitive messages for you to lift up your energies and see what Universe has in store for you 💕

As always, take a deep breath before choosing your pile, take what resonates with you and leave the rest.

All pics are from pinterest

For private readings click here

I love you all 🥰

Pile 1:

✨️ A soulmate connection is on it's way, there's a lot of romance here for you so be open to love

✨️ You are connecting with your soul tribe, you are attracting caring and honest new people into your life

✨️ If you are already in a relationship your person is going to take things to the next level. If you are in a no contact situation with your person they will communicate soon with you giving you some king of explanation

✨️ Your psychic gifts are growing, you can suffer from headaches or cold hands and feet, it's all because of energies

✨️ If you got online bussiness they will grow massively in the next 3 months

✨️ Cleanse your energies once a week and invest 5 minutes everyday to meditate

✨️ Keep your dreams and goals to yourself at least for the moment, someone around you has the potential to block your roads with evil eye

✨️ If someone annoys you just walk away, don't argue with anybody, keep your energies to yourself

Pile 2:

👑 Marriage or serious commitment is about to happen, depending on your case

👑 For singles, you are going to meet your FS between Libra and Sagittarius seasons, for a little amount of you the time extends until Taurus season

👑 Wheel of furtune is moving at your favor, you enter in a lucky time of prosperity and abundance

👑 You are aligning with your soul purpose so you'll be receiving a lot of signs and synchronicities, try to rest to don't get overwhelmed

👑 A physical glow up will be happening in the next 2 months

👑 Someone feels a lot of passion for you, they are fantasizing about you in very intimate terms

👑 You'll be feeling more emotional, let those feelings flow and don't try to repress them, you cam learn a lot because of them

👑 A better and healthier relationship with your physical body and appearance, even with food for some of you

Pile 3:

☀️ Money on your way!!! And more than what you expect😏 you'll have the chance to get something nice you couldn't afford before

☀️ The prosperous fulfilling of a project you have in hands

☀️ There's a call or message you were expecting/wishing for that's going to happen very soon, it will feel like a miracle

☀️ Your goals in life start to take a more grounded and stablished point of view, dream big honey because you are leading to success

☀️ Someone has a surprise for you, probably a gift you will love

☀️ You'll be gaining energy and power to achieve your dreams, everything is moving into a positive direction, follow your inspiration

☀️ Your guides will have a more intense precense in your life, thank them for the work they are doing behind the scenes to help you

☀️ Keep being perseverant with whatever you are doing to attract abundance, it will really pay off in a big scale

#witchblr #leoascendente #divination witch #tarot #tarotblr #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #tarotonline #intuitive readings #intuitive messages

[gay-dorito-dust]

⚠️A little drabble with slight Season 2 spoilers for AIB. ⚠️ this was shit.

“You had every opportunity to be rid of me and yet here I still breath, has my usefulness to you not ran out yet after all this time? Had there not been a time where you could’ve easily disposed of me?” You asked Chishiya as you dragged your bleeding form -curtesy of the king of spades- to mark your final resting place beside him, back pressed up against the car; too tired to accompany Arisu and Usagi to the final game but your faith in them was unwavering. They’ve came this far so it stood to reason that they could put an end to all this. You’ve all lost too much to meet your end here; despite how tragic that sounded, it was a befitting end. To die at the end of the game.

Freedom is almost within reach now and all you could do was reminisce on your time in the Borderlands as time etched away slower then usual. For you the more notable moments took place at The Beach; the once warm safe haven that turned into a nightmarish hellscape right to the very end as it burned down in a blaze of fierce flames. You met Chishiya and Kuina there during a period of your life where you’ve seen one too many of your friends die during the games; Even gotten betrayed by one or two during the more morally tolling ones, which forced your hand into killing them so that you may survive in their stead.

So your willingness to befriend or ally yourself with someone else were slim to none. At the time you didn’t care if you lived when participating in the games, so much so that it made you more reckless and daring during them. Which in retrospect was the dumbest shit you’ve ever done; thinking that the consequences don’t extend to you after your dead because they do and the games like to remind every participant of that. So when you did meet Chishiya and Kuina, you knew what they’re game was almost immediately.

They weren’t here to make friends and neither were you, which was why when one day they did approach you that you were immediately on high alert, hand reaching for the knife that you kept after removing it from the cold hand of a dead man you came across before reaching the massive mansion of party goers. They extended their hand in ‘friendship’ but you shut it down as you stared at them dead in the eyes and told them, “don’t think I don’t know what game your playing at because I ain’t willing in becoming an meat shield for either of you to hide behind when things get too rough. Find some other gullible bastard and quit bothering me.” Before leaving the pair in the hallway as you went to prepare for another game.

Another memory you remember so fondly was when after you had gotten hurt from a game, instead of going back to the cars that would lead you back to The Beach, you slunk your way into an alleyway to die, your position was very much the same as the one you were in currently, back pressed against the brick wall and waiting death to take you far away from this desolate hellhole. Just when you had closed your eyes in acceptance, a voice called out to you and it wasn’t belonging to an angel; It was Chishiya. “What’re you doing?” He asked, however you knew that he could care less for the reason, he just wanted to get a reaction out of you for his own entertainment.

“Waiting to die so I can be as far away from you as possible.” You replied, not bothering to opening your eyes to him.

“That’s a little dramatic don’t you think?” He responds, leaning against the wall as his eyes examine the wounds you received as his brows furrowed but not out of worry.

“Doesn’t matter, all that does is the fact that soon I’ll be free from all this pain and will never have to participate in another game as I cross over into the afterlife.” You stood to your reasoning with steadfast loyalty.

“Dramatic and selfish,” Chishiya said as he ventured forth into the alleyway and knelt so that he was in front of you, getting a better look at your injuries. He didn’t have the best view from where he was standing previously and decided that closer examination was needed. So he kept the conversation going without easing any suspicion within you as you ‘awaited death’ as you so kindly put it. “Your wounds aren’t that severe, they’re deep but the only everlasting thing they’ve leave is a scar at most.” He deduced as you opened your eyes to glare at him. “Now get up before the cars leave us behind and we’re presumed dead.” Chishiya then stood up, offered out his hand for you to take.

You begrudgingly took his hand as he then hauled you off of the floor and began to help you hobble back to the cars that took you back to The Beach, where Kuina was waiting in the lobby for him and subsequently you as she took you off of his hands and aided in getting you to Ann for medical attention. Luckily the additional days added to your visa allowed you to make a full recovery for the next game.

The rest were blurred chaos of varying degrees and the only face that you could clearly make out of that mess was Chishiya’s and his voice, cool under pressure, guiding you to clearing your hectic mind and silence the unnecessary noise that would’ve inevitably have you killed. Even when you weren’t accompanying him in certain games, his presence was with always with you that soon before you allowed yourself to be swept away with everyone else and their growing anxieties, you would clear away their screeching voices and allow yourself to let the answer come to you rather then hopelessly chase it.

“You’re right, I did have opportune moments where I could be rid of you in order to save myself but for some reason, I just let them keep slipping through my fingers. Every time. At first I was wondering if I had let this place force me into a moment of weakness. I was left perplexed and questioning everything when all but soon enough I found my answer.” Chishiya said calmly for a guy who had just gotten shot. Twice. “What was it?” You asked him, awaiting him to finish the sentence on baited breath. “I got attached.” He finally answered glancing over to gauge your reaction like he always did. Which was a habit of his that you’ve only began to take notice as of just recently. He never did once glance at anyone else other then you when he wanted to know how his words affected someone.

Chishiya knew how he made people feel but for some reason he put more effort into knowing how you felt about his words, his actions, everything. It was weird, he even did this back at the beach but when you asked Kuina about this, her answer didn’t make any sense to you. “He’s grown attached to you.” She said but you could only scoff at such ridiculousness, “he only cares about what I came give him. Face it Kuina, Chishiya would rather throw me under the bus then ever admit it to my face that he’s attached.”

You stared at him as though he had grown a second head all the while he rested his head on your shoulder, “what’re your plans after we get out of here?” He changed the subjected, already knowing how you felt about him, he always knew and deep down he believed that you did too and that’s why you didn’t say anything in response. “I don’t know, I’ve worn myself down by just trying to survive and outlive others that I haven’t given it all that much thought.” You admitted to him in a moment of vulnerability, “but I wouldn’t mind it if we went through the unknown together.” You added, resting your head on top of Chishiya’s.

“Is that so?” He asks with a slight air to his tone as though he found all this funny but his hand reached for your own, you tensed at how cold you’ve both become in such a short amount of time that you were starting to actually face your own mortality. It was scary but for Chishiya; you’d brave anything. “Only if you want to of course, wouldn’t want to deter the great Chishiya Shuntaro from better things.” You added as to make light of your situation but faulted when you felt him starting to weigh heavily against your side. “Chishiya?” You said softly. “That sounds nice,” he finally spoke after a moment of silence but his voice was a lot quieter then before, “see you on the other side.” He added as the blimp belonging to the Queen of Hearts finally came down in the form of fiery rain before everything became black.

You awoke in a hospital with no memory of how you got here. Lost and afraid you almost called out in a state of panic when is voice, cool and collected, reached out to you. Silencing the unnecessary noise within. “Your finally awake.”

#alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x you #alice in borderland fic #alice in borderland fanfic #aib fic #aib fanfic #aib imagine #aib x you #aib imagines #aib x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya shuntaro imagines #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya shuntaro imagine #chishiya shuntaro fic #chishiya shuntaro fanfic #chishiya x reader #chishiya x you #chishiya imagines #chishiya imagine #chishiya fic #chishiya fanfic

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 10.

I know I’m not the only one who is desperate to see an “Aziraphale saves Crowley” moment in season 3. Seasons 1 and 2 showed Crowley coming to Aziraphale’s rescue on multiple occasions, so a grand reversal of this for season 3 is one of my very hot desires. I put forth my imagined scenario below:

The ultimate battle between heaven and hell has begun. Aziraphale and Crowley have chosen their side. The side of “Us”. They fight together, completely in sync with one another. Powerful angelic and demonic miracles blast from their hands. They fight in the heavens, their wings outspread, both glittering in the blazing sunlight. Aziraphale once again holds his flaming sword. Crowley turns to him during a rare pause in the battle and admires his angel. “Look at you!” Aziraphale looks over at Crowley, who moves back slightly hovering in the air to admire him further in all his glowing glory. “You’re gorgeous”. Both their smiles are radiant. They know exactly what they are fighting for.

Suddenly Crowley gasps, his body tenses. Aziraphale looks down at first in confusion at the sight of a sharp bloodied point protruding from Crowley’s chest. Icy cold realisation hits him just as the evil grinning face of Michael comes into view from behind Crowley’s shoulder. She pulls the spear from his back, her face triumphant. Crowley’s beautiful golden eyes holds Aziraphale’s gaze for a moment, then roll to the back of his head as his wings go limp, and he plummets from the air.

“CROWLEY!” Aziraphale screams, as he hurls his flaming sword directly at Michael. The sword rotates end over end hitting its mark square in Michael’s chest catching her completely off guard.

Aziraphale not waiting around to witness the result of his throw dives down after Crowley. He gains on the plummeting figure of his love but the demon is falling too fast. Aziraphale chokes back the panic rising in his throat along with the unbidden thoughts that he might be too late. He stretches out his hands, beating his wings faster and harder, willing himself to close the distance and grasp Crowley before it’s too late. To his horror he can see the ocean below fast rising to meet them. Down, down Crowley falls. Aziraphale grits his teeth and stretches out that little bit further. “Almost there, almost there” he thinks to himself.

Too late. Crowley plunges into the water. The impact retracts his wings back into the ethereal plane where they usually reside. As he sinks into the depths Aziraphale enters the water like a torpedo. Thankfully the surface tension of the water has slowed Crowley’s decent measurably and Aziraphale is finally able to catch up to him. But not before he notices the terrifying cluster of air bubbles releasing from Crowley’s mouth. They don’t need to breathe, obviously, but in his weakened state Crowley’s corporation seems to have forgotten this. At last reaching his strong arms firmly around Crowley, Aziraphale miracles them back to the only place of sanctuary and safety he can think of; the bookshop.

Collapsing onto the floor in a shower of spray, Aziraphale gasps Crowley’s name, his hands shooting to cradle his head, then immediately begins to give him mouth to mouth, before realising that isn’t necessary. Chiding himself for his panicked stupidity he instead extends his hands over Crowley’s chest and calling upon his powers as supreme arch angel heels the wound made by the spear, at the same time as drawing the sea water from his lungs. Crowley finally gasps then, with back arching off the ground screams in pain from the angelic healing. As quick as it started however the pain dissipates, and taking deep shuddering breaths Crowley opens his eyes and stares into the concerned face of his rescuer. His angel.

“Hey Angel” he whispers, still breathing heavy. “Um…watch out?”

Aziraphale, with relief flooding through him, pulls Crowley up off the floor into a tight embrace. His wings still out, wraps them protectively around the soaked demon. Choking back tears and a small laugh he playfully replies, “Don’t pretend you did something noble. Neither of us saw Michael coming and you know it”. Crowley hugging Aziraphale back just as tightly mumbles into his shoulder, “Thanks. I guess I owe you one”.

As he breaks their embrace, Aziraphale gently places his hands either side of Crowley’s face, tenderly stroking his cheeks. “You don’t owe me anything dearest, except to promise to stay eternally by my side.”

Crowley, overcome with emotion pulls his angel into a long, spine tingling kiss, bringing out his own wings once more to mingle with Aziraphale’s.

After what feels like an eternity, yet nearly not long enough, Crowley breaks their kiss and presses his forehead to Aziraphale’s sighing, “We should probably get back to the fray”.

“Oh please, five minutes? Can we please just have five minutes?” The deep and desperate longing in Aziraphale’s voice matches the tired ache in Crowley’s own chest, an ache that was there long before a spear ever pierced it.

“Oh course Angel” he whispers back. “Anything you want”.

#good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x arizaphale #i can dream can’t i? #Aziraphale rescues Crowley #good omens season 3 #water rescue #Aziraphale and Crowley kissing

[littlemissmanga]

Song of the Caged Bird (1/3)

Summary: Crosshair has failed. Still imprisoned on Tantis, he sees Omega and knows that his brothers didn't heed his warning. Unable to face his failure, he starts losing what little hope remained as he and his sister are offered as tribute to Hemlock's ambition. But every night, a voice echoing off the mountains soothes his battered and broken soul. But can Crosshair recover himself before that voice is silenced, forever?

Pairing: Crosshair x f!OC

Rating: PG-13 (there will be violence and a lot of dark thoughts and eventually a very vengeful Crosshair)

Tone: Hurt/comfort overall with a happy ending, but this first chapter will be 90% hurt with only 10% comfort.

Warnings: Some depressive/suicidal thoughts, imprisonment, threats of torture, characters dealing with grief and guilt spoiler if you haven't seen season 2 - Tech is dead in this fic, despite my beliefs to the contrary

Chapter w/c: 2,000

It was the constant tinkering near his head that dragged him back to consciousness.

Tap, tap, tap.

Nails against the light metal underneath him, pricking at his ears and sending sharp vibrations along the slab.

Damn Imps were even worse than the Kaminoans. At least the long necks would let him sleep after an experiment.

Arms and legs extended out from his body, cuffed and locked at the wrists and ankles for maximum exposure, Crosshair could feel the cold from the table seeping through his thin prison uniform. He didn’t remember passing out this time, but he already wished he could again.

The exhaustion was starting to wear on him. Though, if he were really being honest, the physical ache he felt in his bones was nothing he couldn’t handle.

It was the rest that was harder to ignore.

Crosshair was tired to the core of his being. Giving up was something wholly unfamiliar to him. The thought used to earn a sneer and a snide comment. But he was slowly coming to understand the allure. How easy it would be to just not wake up.

“Crosshair?”

What was he even waking up for? If he succeeded, his brothers would be far away with the kid. If he didn’t … well, he didn’t want to find that out, anyway.

“Crosshair!?”

The voice was louder that time, more insistent, and the sniper was aware enough to catch a quiver in his name. Emerie Karr had never so much as flinched in his presence. The discrepancy scratched at his brain, irritating until he opened his eyes.

And his heart sank.

Neatly combed blonde hair and large, sad brown eyes filled his vision.

“Crosshair! You’re awake! I was so worried; it was taking so long.” The kid threw herself on top of him, and if he had any air in his lungs, it would have been pushed out by the weight of her solid form pressing down on his.

The moment she pulled back, his eyes narrowed at her, ignoring the tear stains marking her cheeks and the spark of hope now hiding in the corner of her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Her face fell, and somewhere deep in his heart, Crosshair cared. But that didn’t matter. More important was the fact that she was here. His karking wanna-be hero brothers ignored the warning he risked his neck to send and the kid was still kidnapped.

It was only then that the cold shock of reality bit, clawing deep.

Hunter would never have let her go without a fight … or alone.

“The others?”

The kid sighed and fell back into a seat next to his table. “Safe, I think."

“You think?” he spit.

“Yeah. I think,” she snapped, though it lacked much bite. “I … I was able to distract the troopers long enough for Hunter and Wrecker to get free, and Echo was never captured. But I got grabbed. And I saw Maia in the transport with me.”

The name wasn’t familiar, but Crosshair knew who Omega was talking about. Her. That woman who had been with them on Kamino. The one they replaced him with in the squad mere rotations after they left him.

Of course she got caught, too. A kid and a civvie had no place in this.

“Figures. I risk my neck and you still get caught.” Crosshair strained against his bindings, his muscles aching from disuse. “I assume Tech at least got a tracker on your transport?”

It took a beat longer that it should have for Crosshair to realize the optimistic response he expected from the kid never came.

Omega’s silence said more than her incessant chattering ever did. Never in his life had Crosshair wanted her irritating, chipper voice to grate his ears as he did right then, and every moment he waited for it pulled at his heart until it felt stretched like the silence, far too thin to survive yet it was the heaviest weight he ever carried.

“Tech … he …”

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“Shut up.”

How many times had he told his brother that? Told him to stop annoying him with his endless rants and useless information briefs?

But Crosshair didn’t dwell on the fact that he’d never tell Tech to shut up again. That the last thing he did say to him was cruel and spiteful. No, he didn’t focus at all on how he could feel the loss as acutely as he did the armor-penetrating cold on Barton IV.

Instead, he retreated to what he knew: turning pain to anger. He let it sit just as heavy as Omega’s silence, his accusations unsaid but understood. If they just karking listened to him, for once, Tech would still be alive.

It wasn’t long before Emerie Karr’s voice actually rang out, calling for Omega. And though he could feel the kid’s stare as she paused before leaving, he kept his face turned away.

He wanted to be left alone with his failure. And finally, he was getting his wish.

It was hours later when the Imps finally returned him to his cell. Just one of countless holding clones prisoner for experimentation and decommissioning.

The densely populated prison was surprisingly quiet, something for which Crosshair was thankful. The somber silence was as far from his experiences with his squad as possible. At least the regs could give him this.

Despite his muscles aching for use, Crosshair could only curl up on the pathetic excuse for a bed. He wanted the weight he felt to crush him, to actually wreck him the way it felt it could. Maybe then he’d be free.

A small part of his brain surged in resistance. Omega was here. He should keep her safe.

But he tried that before. And look where it got him. Where it got all of them.

Where it got Tech.

So instead, he let himself drown in the silence.

That is, until a small, frail sound made its way from somewhere above. A higher level of the compound, maybe. The echo made it difficult to pinpoint, but Crosshair didn’t care to know anyway.

It was a tune, hushed and broken. Its stuttering stops and starts were irritating, distracting him from his guilt and solitude until finally, the source seemed to gain enough strength to force the sound from their diaphragm.

"Somewhere … over the rainbow,

Way up high,

There's a land that I heard of

Once in a lullaby."

The staccato start had smoothed, and the voice rang through clean. It still wasn't loud, but it bounced off the fortress and surrounding mountain range, making it seem as if it were coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Unable to block it out and unwilling to resist anything Tantis had left to throw at him, Crosshair gave in and lost himself in the sound.

"Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue,

And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true."

At first, he bristled at the words. But as the song kept repeating, the lyrics fell away. He felt the bittersweet tune envelope him and, after just a little longer, he allowed it to lull him to sleep.

And when the early morning light cut across his eyes and forced him from the blissful emptiness of his sleep the next morning, Crosshair intentionally ignored the fact that it was his first night without nightmares in weeks.

a/n: This is so not my usual style as I tend to be a fluff author all the way. BUT I had a scene pop into my head (it'll come in chapter 2) and this whole fic started unraveling. It'll be a 3-part series, not very long at all, and it'll be entirely from Crosshair's POV. I hope to get it done before Season 3 debuts so I get all my nerves out here and can still be hopeful for our boys canonically.

Taglist: (This is still broken cause I'm broke AF right now and can't upgrade my google storage so if your name isn't on here and you want to be alerted when Chapter 2 comes out, then drop a comment or DM and I'll add you to the list.

@dreamie411, @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @dhawerdaverd @mythical-illustrator

People who liked my announcement post (Let me know if you want/don't want to be tagged going forward. I just wanted to let you know it was out since you showed interest): @ci-avmovies14 @rogue616, @marvel-starwarsfangirl

Like this fic? Check out the rest of my Masterlist!

#tbb crosshair x OC #crosshair x oc #tbb crosshair #it is an x oc but the focus here is on Crosshair #he's the protagonist #honestly the only reason it's oc instead of reader is because I needed to address her in the third person #you'll meet her next time #sorry for the whump fest this chapter became #but it's necessary to build the stakes #tbb crosshair fanfic #tbb omega

[a-cup-of-fruit-medley]

Why so blue?

Part 2

The table was set all fancy and cute with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. Villain set two muffins on the table and pulled out a chair for hero.

“These have had plenty of time to cool, you should learn what fifteen means, Hero.”

“Ah, maybe I should, but do you know what this means?”

Hero lifted their left hand inches away from Villain’s face, and extended their middle finger.

Villain frowned.

“Sorry, I meant this. The mark on my finger. The one that you put there.”

“Yes, I do.”

Villain turned around and added seasoning to something on the stove. Hero propped their chin on their hand and took a bite of the muffin.

“Would you like some eggs, Hero?”

“No. Never. TELL ME WHAT’S ON MY PINKY!”

Villain removed the pan from heat and scraped the eggs into the trash.

“Hero, I need your help. Do you remember Supervillain?”

“Ew.”

“That’s perfect!!”

Villain giggled and dropped the pan and spatula into the sink, then joined Hero at the table.

“I need your help taking them down.”

“Why not ask a villain?”

“Well I would if the nearby villains hadn’t already been charmed by that mouth breather! And after all that fun we had talking shit about Supervillain too. That’s the real kick in the clam.”

“Bummer.”

Hero grabbed a third and fourth muffin.

“Hero, you’re the only person in this city I can always depend on.

Villain looked at the mark on their finger and smiled. Hero slid up their sleeve and hid their bare wrist with a muffin.

“Darn, Aw snap, look at the time, I gotta go.”

Hero ran over to the window and pushed it open. Villain crawled across the table, spilling the lemonade and knocking over their chair.

“Stop don’t go!”

“Sorry V, we’ll talk about your pinky promise later. Money calls!”

Hero shattered the already open window and leapt away. Leaving a small trail of glass shards that twinkled in the sun as they jumped from building to building.

Hero sat at their desk typing up plans for training courses for incoming sidekicks and heroes. Their left hand would get a few quick cramps or grow cold after typing for a while.

“I should’ve grabbed more muffins.”

They mumbled to themselves. A strong itch spawned deep in their pinky finger and when scratching didn’t work to soothe the burn, hero resorted to biting.

“You can come back and get more.”

Hero sat up and looked around only to see that nobody was slacking off. They wanted to know who spoke so they let out an audible,

“HUH?”

Their coworkers looked at them some just ignored them, and their desk neighbor who’s ears had just been assaulted gave a polite.

“Sorry what was that, Hero?”

Perhaps it was their imagination because all the other heroes went back to work a little bit more annoyed than they were moments ago.

“Oops, sorry Other Hero, I just have bad hiccups.”

Yee haw I’m here again after actual months. Thank you for the nice comments on the first one :] I’m thinking I may turn this into a comic instead, or maybe in addition to writing. I’m an artist first and a writer second so maybe the little story will grow faster with the power of illustrations.

Also, oh my! Look! I have a tag list:

@submarinekitten, @laurenhufflepuff2

And omg part one¡

#hero x villain #hero #villain #cup medley writes #changer the paragraph spacing

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. This piece is inspired by the “Famille Auziere-Macron” photo we were all talking about earlier this week. I’m not sure exactly when that was taken, so just go with me on this. Hope everyone has a good weekend!

“Chéri! I’m home!” Brigitte called out as she opened the door to their apartment, carrying her purse in one hand, and the mail in the other.

“Hi! I missed you today,” he met her at the door, wide smile on his face.

“What did you get up to on your day off?” she asked, dropping her stuff along with her keys on the table in the entry way, laughing gently as he helped her shrug out of her coat.

“Waited for you to get home,” he replied, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her tightly to him, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Charmer,” she blushed a little when he pulled back, moved by the intensity of his desirous stare. “I’m guessing you didn’t prepare dinner?”

He laughed loudly at that, “no! I value my head too much. I did call in an order for pick up in about half an hour, though.”

“The weather is about to take a nasty turn, chéri. I don’t want you to get messed up in that -“

“And I don’t want you to cook tonight,” he cut her off gently. “Chérie, you’re always so busy taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you.”

“Fine. But, I’ll be doing a very through check up to make sure you’ve warmed back up after dinner,” she teased, her index finger trailing slowly down his chest as she did so.

“You’ll hear no complaints about that on my end,” he smiled her. “Come on, let’s head inside the entry way. You’re going to get cold.”

“Wait! I want to grab the mail. I saw something from Sebastian.”

“Oh?” He asked intrigued, looking over her shoulder as she flipped through the envelopes.

“I think it’s a Christmas card,” she replied, turning over her shoulder as she ripped into the right one.

“Let me see!” He demanded as she slipped it out.

On the cover was a picture that had to have been taken during their family vacation over the summer with their whole family: them, all three of the kids, their partners, and all the grandkids, captioned simply “Famille Auziere-Macron.”

“Wow,” he breathed out quietly, stunned, moved beyond words at that. A family Christmas card, their family Christmas card with his name on it.

She opened the card and saw the message inside, “Wishing you all the joy of the season and the happiest of New Years. Love, the Auizere-Macrons” with all their names printed one after the other.

“Did you know about this?” He asked when he finally felt he had control enough over his emotions to speak.

“No, I had no clue,” she replied, equally moved by the gesture. She turned around to look at him, “but, that’s just putting to paper what’s been true for a very long time. Chéri, this is our family, your family.”

He nodded slowly at that, letting her words sink in. “You know, I don’t think I ever really thought I’d have this. I mean, I always knew that we’d have our kids, because they are and were always going to be mine. But, I guess given the complicated relationship I have with my own parents, I just didn’t think, I just didn’t expect -“

“Didn’t expect what?” Brigitte asked gently when he trailed off and remained silent for an extended period of time.

“Didn’t expect a family this close, a family full of this much love.”

“Oh, mon cœur -“

“I’m going to go call our kids and thank them. Then I’m going to grab our dinner,” he interrupted, needing to take a second and step back to get control over his emotions.

“Okay,” she smiled warmly, knowing he needed the moment. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

And neither was the card. As they moved from their apartment to Bercy, from Bercy back to an apartment, and from their apartment to the Élysée, the card traveled with them, always in a place of prominence, proudly displaying their family.

Hellooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Aawww this warmed my heart quite a lot 🤧🥰 Sébastian sending the Christmas family card was so adorable! And even more adorable was Emmanuel’s reaction to it 🥰

And now I’m just going to look at the photo again and sob in a corner hahaha

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #fanfic anon 2

[ghouligancentral]

Not the Only Ones

"Your Gravity Holds Me Down" Chapter 2

Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Summary- Din asks you about your parents and you are finally able to see what is on that data stick.

A/N- While there is a tab bit of divergence,I tried to keep the story to canon timeline. So there could possibly be some spoilers if you are currently watching Rebels, but nothing too shocking. Also I just found out that Fenn Rau will be in The Mandalorian season 3 and I am chuffed to bits!

Chapter Warnings: None, this is a slow burn, babes.

You both turn to look at eachother, not that you would be able to see his expression through the helmet. Din is expecting to find you shocked, but what he sees surprises him, there is no reaction. No panic, no excitement, nothing. Yarya extends her hand to give you back the metal. 

“Ok, so what does this even mean? The Pykes stole a historic artifact, what else is new?” You ask as you take the cold lump of beskar from her hands. 

“Well, that’s the thing. This was only made around 15 years ago,” Yarya explains.

That… that’s not possible. That would mean that it was created after the siege of Mandalore and the Great Purge. After all of the Protectors, except for your father, were slaughtered by the Gar Saxon and his warriors. As the memories come flooding in, you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. No! You will not do this here, not now. 

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, you feel Din’s hand brushes yours. This is his silent way of telling you that he’s there for you. He understands what you are feeling, his people were also murdered. 

“Do you think—” 

“It means that the Protectors still live,” you answer Yarya’s question before she can even finish it. 

“And if it is true, that there are still some Protectors alive, what do the Pykes even want with this?” Mando asks. 

“That I don’t know,” Yarya replies,” but if they are somehow caught up in all of this, that will make things more complicated for you two.” 

 You sigh in agreement, still staring at the metal slab in your hands, turning it over a couple of times. Yarya can see the exhaustion in your eyes. 

“It’s late. You need to get some rest,” Yarya says as she motions for you to follow her,” we can talk about this more in the morning.” She leads the both of you down a small hallway lined with maybe four or five doors. A few of the doors are open, showing that there is no one else staying here. 

“Here,” she explains as she pushes a button, opening the last two doors on the right side of the hall,” this will be your room and Mando’s is right next door. My room is right down the hall if you need anything.” 

You all say your ‘good nights’ before Yarya turns and shuffles back through the hall to her own room. As you step into the room, you allow your eyes to flicker over its interior. It is small, containing only a bed, side table, and chair. The room is dark, save for the purple light from a sign outside, flickering through the tiny rectangular window over the bed. Upon setting you bag down, you are surprised to find that Din follows behind you instead of going to his own room.  He waits for the door to close behind him before he speaks. 

“Tell me about the Protectors, tell me about your people,” Din utters as he steps a little closer to you. Now that all of the alcohol has left your system, the close proximity in which Din is standing causes your cheeks to heat up. Your eyes slowly roam over his body as you look up at him. 

In the past few months, you have found yourself becoming more and more attracted to Din. It wasn’t that you weren’t attracted to him when you first met. Sure, when you did meet for the first time, he had terrified you. Which was a given, since he was hunting you down to bring to the Pykes, but there is something to be said about a big, mysterious man that never removes his helmet. But now the feeling is different, there is more emotion behind it. You care for him in a way you’ve never felt for anyone else. 

All you want to do is reach and touch him. You want to feel him, but you don’t. Instead, you just turn and take two steps before arriving at the bed. 

“You’re the real Mandalorian here. Shouldn’t you already know this?” You grunt as you flop down onto the mattress.

 “I was told I could never remove my helmet if I was a true Mandalorian. So forgive me if I’m not up to date on Mandalorian History.” 

“And they’re not my people, Din,” you reply. 

“Your father is of Mandalore, therefore you are as well,” Din explains, trying to be as gentle as possible but still get the information he seeks, “So who were they?” 

“They may be my people, but I’ll tell you one thing,” you groan as you sit up to face him,” they wouldn’t want me.” 

Sure, your father had trained you as a warrior when you were a child, but that didn’t change the fact of what you are. You are a thief. A dirty, rotten, no-good thief. 

“So tell me,” Din prompts once more as he sits down beside you on the bed. You continue to stare at the ceiling until you hear the sound of his helmet being removed, followed by the clank of armor being set down on the floor. 

“Tell me,” Din whispers as he gently cups your jaw and moves your face so that his eyes meet yours. Those brown eyes have always had the power to melt your heart, ever since the first time you saw them. All Din wants right now is to help you through whatever you are feeling, but he’s not sure how. This moment would be romantic if it weren’t for the nagging anger in the back of your mind. You let out a long sigh as you sit up. 

“Fine,” you groan,” Many eons ago, a group of elite Mandalorian warriors swore an oath to the Mand’alor, with this they vowed their loyalty to Mandalore and its people. For many centuries, the Protectors established themselves as the greatest warriors.” 

You knew these lines by heart. Your father had taught them to you just like his parents had to him. You look back at Din to see if that was enough to satisfy his curiosity. It isn’t, so you continue. 

“The Protectors remained loyal to the Mand’alor until the Siege.” 

“What changed?” 

“Maul. The Protectors felt that Maul had no right to be the ruler of Mandalore and they left to set up a base on Concord Dawn. This ensured that they  were able to make it through the Siege, but during the Purge,” you swallow once before continuing,” they were betrayed by the people they thought could be trusted.” 

“Who did this?” 

You take another deep breath before continuing. 

“ Supercommandos, fellow Mandalorians, led by Gar Saxon. They ambushed the Protectors and slaughtered them all. Even those who could not fight weren’t spared. And for what?” you scoff,” an Empire that would be brought to its knees by a single Jedi.” 

Din’s heart drops when he hears this. He was taught that Mandalorians were not to fight amongst themselves, that they could disagree but always remained loyal to each other. I guess there is no honor among us, Din thinks before placing a hand on your knee, attempting to offer you some sort of comfort. 

“My father spent his every waking moment tracking them down, avenging the death of his fellow warriors, but then he met my mother. He always blamed himself for what happened to them,” you explain, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Your father?” Din questions, cocking his head to the side. 

“Yes. He said that if he had been there, they wouldn’t have been killed. My mother always told him there was nothing he could have done, that he would have probably been killed as well and then he would have never met her.” 

You smile a little as you recall the love your parents have for each other. Your father would go to the ends of the galaxy for your mother and she would do the same for him. You never really understood it until you met Din, but now you are beginning to understand how you can care for someone so much. That smile quickly fades from your face as the memories of your father’s pain come back. 

“What happened to Gar Saxon and the other Supercommandos?” Din asks. 

“Saxon was killed by a member of Clan Wren,” you spit, the feels vial in your mouth.

” After that my father joined the Rebellion. I don’t know what happened to the others,” your jaw clenches in anger as you utter the words

With the rage comes the tears, you stay silent as you feel them welling up in your eyes. Din stiffens a little, feeling uncomfortable as he watches the tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. His heart breaks for you but he doesn’t know what to do. He would give anything to be able to take this pain away. 

“What do you want to do?” Din asks as he looks into your eyes, searching for any answers. 

“I… I don’t know,” you sniffle. You’re already exhausted, both physically and emotionally, from living with a bounty on your head and this latest discovery just pushes you over the edge. Din remains silent as he pulls you against his chest and you allow it, just wanting to feel close to someone. 

The tears continue to stream down your face for a few more minutes before they finally dry up. The Mandalorian continues to soothe you with his touch. You expected him to have unwrapped his arms from you by now but he hasn’t and doesn’t show any signs of doing it soon. 

“Um, Din?” you question, wondering why he is still holding you, not that you’re complaining. 

“Oh sorry. You need to rest. I… uh… I’ll go,” Din stutters, standing up. 

“No, stay,” you exclaim, a little too eagerly,” please.” 

Din nods slowly before he sits back down beside you. With a sign, you roll over to lay down on the bed and pat the open space beside you, indicating that you want him to join you. Hesitation flashes in Din’s eyes and you end up having to pull him down. 

“Let's deal with the Pykes and then we can try to track down where the beskar came from,” Din utters. He watches as you wiggle a little so that you have room to look up at him. 

“Maybe there is something on that data stick that will help us find an answer,” you say as you attempt to sit up to get it. Din stops you and pulls you back down onto the mattress. 

“You can do that tomorrow, for now, you need rest,” Din whispers. You close your eyes and attempt to get settled, but no position feels comfortable. After a couple minutes, you are able to get into an okay position. Eventually, you drift into a restless sleep. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning you wake to sunlight trickling in through the widow. Feeling the weight of an arm over you, you realize that Din is still beside you sleeping. You had expected him to go to his own room after you fell asleep, but this was a pleasant surprise. While you shift a little, your rear bumps into something hard. Didn’t Din take all of his armor off last night? Ohhhh...

A blush heats up your cheeks when you realize you are pressing up against. You know Din would absolutely die if he woke up to find his arms wrapped around you and his erect member pressed into your back. Slowly, you wriggle out from his grasp to make your way to the fresher, grabbing your bag as you walk past.  

After completing your morning routine and changing out of the dress you had slept in, you return to the room to find the Mandalorian awake and already in the process of putting his armor back on. 

When he notices you staring he tenses a little. When he had woken up to find you missing and his morning wood, Din thought the worst. But the way you smiled at him made him think that maybe you hadn’t noticed.  

“Good morning,” you chirp, giggling a little at the state of his hair. 

“Morning,” Din replies, as he slowly relaxes. 

“I’m going to go talk to Yarya. I’ll bring you some food so you can eat in private. After you’re finished we will meet in the living room, okay?” 

“Alright,” Din grunts as he watches you leave. She didn’t notice, right?

—------------------------------------------------------------

You found that Yarya is already awake and making caf. A yawn escapes your lips as you walk up to stand beside her. She hands you a mug and you go to pour yourself a cup of the caffeinated liquid.  

“Have a good night's sleep?” Yarya grins before giving you a wink. 

You blink at her a couple of times trying to understand why she had emphasized ‘sleep’. Then it dawned on you. You noticed that the door to Mando’s room remained open and  the bed had not been slept in on your way to the kitchen. She must have seen it and put two and two together. 

“It’s not like that,” you blush, averting your gaze. 

“Oh really?” Yarya asks as she leans against the counter before taking a long sip of her morning brew, eyeing you over the rim of the mug,” coulda fooled me.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh come on. He can’t keep his eyes off of you,” Yarya quips,” Or at least I think those are his eyes, I can't really tell through the helmet and all.”

“That is if he even has eyes. Does he have eyes? Is he even human?” Yarya muses before she looks back at you. Your puzzled look prompts her to continue with a sigh. 

“Are you telling me you really haven’t noticed? Even through the helmet and all the armor, I can tell that man is about ready to drop to his knees and profess his love for you. And don’t lie and say you don’t feel the same, I know you too well for that,” Yarya explains with a grin. Your blush deepens as you continue staring into your mug. 

“I... I don’t think he feels that way towards me,” you utter. 

“Uh huh. Here,” Yarya says while passing you a plate of food,” take this to him. I’m assuming he won’t be joining us for breakfast.” 

You nod before delivering the food to the Mandalorian. 

“Din?” you question as you knock on the door. The door sweeps open to reveal the man in his full armor. 

“Here.” 

You pass him the warm plate without stepping into the room. 

“Thank you,” the modulated voice answers before you turn around to go back to eat with Yarya. Was Yarya right? Did he really have feelings for you? 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So do you have any idea where to find more information on the sigil?” you ask before taking a sip of the warm caf. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking your Mandalorian friend? I would think he’d know more about this than me,” Yarya explains.  

“He’s not well versed in the subject of Mandalorian history,” you shrug. Just then you watch as the Mandalorian makes his way into the room with the empty plate in his hand.

“Well, what about your father? You could try going to him,” Yarya offers, the statement has you choking on your caf. 

“Are you okay?” Din asks as he rushes to your side. As you sputter out a couple more coughs, you look up to see Yarya raising her eyebrows at you. You know exactly what she’d say, ‘I thought you said he didn’t care about you in that way.’  

You wave Din off as you assure him that you are fine. He reluctantly leaves your side and continues to the kitchen to put away the dish. You take a couple of deep breaths to steady yourself. This time Yarya waits until you put your caf down to speak. 

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“What do you think about my idea of asking your father?” Yarya questions. 

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t endanger my family by bringing them into this,” you explain as guilt and shame creep into the corners of your mind. Suddenly you remember that you still have the data stick from the club last night. 

“Do you have somewhere I could take a look at this?” You ask as you hold up the data stick. Yarya nods before she leads you over to a holoscreen. 

“This should work,” she states as she plugs it in. Your eyes scan the screen, looking for the file with your name on it. Ah Ha! Once you spot it, you point it out to Yarya who taps on it. The file contains a list of everything the Pykes ever had you do. Every item, data, and plot all listed out in great detail. However, there is something that you don’t recognize, and you have Yarya open it. A series of numbers appear on the screen, they look like coordinates to somewhere in the Outer Rim. Why would there be coordinates under my name? 

“Can you locate where this leads to?” You ask. 

“Sure,” Yarya says as she begins typing once more,” but it will take a minute.” 

While the data is being uploaded, you go back to the previous conversation. 

“Are there any other ways besides bringing my family into this?” 

“Maybe,” Yarya utters, her words seeming hesitant,” there could be some more information in Kavasmor, an ancient temple on Mandalore.” 

Yarya shuffles over to the bookshelf lining the back wall of the room. You watch as she makes little ‘hmms’ as she searches for a specific text. While Yarya is looking, Din comes over to stand by your side.

“Aha!” She exclaims. Din walks over to help her as soon as he sees her heave a gigantic book off of the shelf. When it is placed in his hands, Din fumbles it a little, not expecting the sheer weight of it. Din grunts when he drops the book down onto the table. Landing with a thunk, dust rushes out from in between its pages. 

The text has seen better days. Its cover is peeling and the spine is cracked, the entirety of it is withering away just as the age in which it was written. Yarya bumps Din out of the way to get to the book. Upon opening it, her finger traces lightly over the delicate paper as she scans through a list. You peer over her shoulder in hopes of getting a glimpse. Unfortunately the text is written entirely in an ancient Twi'lek dialect, one in which you aren’t well versed. 

“This atlas was created many centuries ago,” Yarya explains as she flips through the pages,” so long, in fact, that many of the maps aren’t accurate today, but it should still be able to help us.” 

She stops on a page depicting a large planet, even with the age and inaccuracies of the book you can tell that this is Mandalore. 

“So where exactly is this temple?” Din asks as he places both of his hands on the table, craning his neck to get a look. 

“Therein lies the issue. No one really knows for certain since the ancient maps were lost or destroyed.” 

You groan at this information. Here you were, so close, yet so far. A smile slowly creeps onto Yarya’s face. 

“All except for a few,” Yarya grins as she flips the page,” my father and I managed to smuggle this book off of Ryloth before it could be found by the Empire.” 

“Scholars believe that it was located in the northern mountains. Here,” Yarya states, placing her finger on the map,” so if I were you that’s where I’d start.”

You take a few moments to stare at the page which depicts a mountain range covered in snow, before the holo screen pings and the three of you turn to see where the coordinates had led to. Everyone’s eyes widen at the sight. 

“I thought you said maps to this place were extremely rare,” Din utters as his eyes flicker over the screen. 

“They are,” Yarya replies,” but it looks like you two aren’t the only ones looking for the temple.” 

“And they think that I have something to do with all of this,” you sigh. 

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

I hope you are enjoying this. I'm really excited about where this is going and I already have the next couple of chapters planned out. As always likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. See you next chapter!

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #star wars #mandalorian fanfic #siege of mandalore

[canibecandid]

If you’re still doing breakup requests…

First thought: even though it’s been years and I now have a wonderful, happy loving healthy and wholesome relationship, back in first semester of freshman year of college I was dating this guy. Because this was my first relationship EVER I told him I loved him within a month of dating, right before Thanksgiving break. He nodded, took it well at the time, then we left for break. The night that I returned from break, he made me steak and crème brulée, wanting to show off that he, a junior, had a kitchen and knew how to cook. That night he told me he loved me.

Next night, we hung out again and he showed me the first episode of Game of Thrones because I mentioned that I had never watched it before. Shortly after, while talking about the episode he paused and said, “I don’t think I love you,” and later, “I don’t think I can ever love you.” It was awkward as hell as he drove me back to my dorm that night. Needless to say we broke up.

It’s funny, because even though I’ve since moved on, met the love of my life, graduated college and I’m about to move in with my love - who I’ve dated for years now…I’m still angry that the steak he made for me was so damn good and that I think I’ll never again have a steak and crème brulée like that again - that’s my one regret.

It was an amazing steak.

I am actually maybe the BEST person to ask this too.

As for your song, I picked “Comptine d’un autre été, l’aprés-midi” from the movie ‘Amélie’. This isn’t the song that plays when she eats the creme brûlée but it invokes a nostalgia for things you can’t have anymore.

For the steak you’re going to need

Room temperature butter

Fresh rosemary, removed from the stem and then bruised with your knife. You don’t need to chop it super fine and for this recipe you don’t need a lot of it either.

Two to Three garlic cloves, smashed open but left mostly whole.

Salt and Pepper

Steak, any cut of your choosing but I would recommend something with a decent fat displacement.

When thinking about the doneness of your steak, take the thickness into consideration. If you need your oven, turn it on.

Bring your steak out of the fridge to rest for 30 minutes at room temp before cooking.

While that’s happening, mix together 2 TBS of your softened butter with a bit of black pepper and your rosemary. DO NOT ADD ANY SALT AT THIS POINT.

When you’re ready to start on your steak, preheat your medium/large skillet on a low setting. You don’t want to start with a cold pan, just enough so when you turn the heat up later you’re not starting from zero.

Pat your steak SUPER dry. As dry as you can. Then season with salt and pepper only. It’s always going to be a little bit more salt than you think the first time around.

With your pan now turned up to a medium high heat, add in the butter and garlic. The minute the butter starts to sizzle, add in your steak and DO NOT MOVE IT. Take a spoon and baste the steak with the butter/garlic, waiting at least 3 minutes before flipping over.

Second side, same thing. If you want your steak cooked more to the ‘done’ end of things, extend your time and whack it into your oven.

Now here’s where I might lose you. When you’re not quite at your desired doneness, remove your steaks from the heat and wrap them with aluminum foil with a dollop of that rosemary butter on top.

You want to let the meat rest so that it goes from “tensed” cooking, to “relaxed” so the juices have gone back into the muscle as a whole. Let it hang out for about 5 minutes before serving. The residual heat will continue to cook your meat, so keep that in mind.

Hope that helps!

#anon #ask #Ellie Replies #anonymous

[lord-shitbox]

entire ask game. send me asks too or ill bite you really ahrd

assuming you said this for the 'weirder asks' game. godbless

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Gozu and mezu

lighter or matches?

I like lighters more but i only have a matchbox (the striking paper on it is shit anyways)

do you leave the window open at night?

ye

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

none

what color are your eyes?

brown

why did you do that?

do wot

hair-ties or scrunchies?

Hair ties

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

None. 2 glasses and a mason jar though 

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

Cold. on ice

would you slaughter the rich?

Idc about killing them i just want their wealth redistributed

favorite extracurricular activity?

Fucking around at the grocery store en masse

what kind of day is it?

Did not do a single piece of schoolwork but i did every other possible task

when was the last time you ate?

Within the hour. Had a bowl of rice on my desk

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

ya

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

no

can you drive?

no

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

nearsighted

what hair products do you use?

none

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

If you want me to ya

do you say soda or pop?

soda

something you’ve kept since childhood?

A lot of things. Stuffed animals, jewelry

what type of person are you?

chilling

how do you feel about chilly weather?

👍 but i prefer mild temperatures. The kind of just-barely cold that isnt really cold. I don’t like wearing lots of clothes

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

Depends on who you are. for u specifically, probly not much

perfume/body spray or lotion?

Mmmm…i dont own any body spray but i have mixed feelings about the texture of lotion. It’s not actually that bad but i don’t like putting wet stuff on me (same genre of sensory dislike as wearing lots of clothing)

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

Uh.. like daydream? There’s one i used to have but its really really edgy and embarrassing 

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

Last night, 12. On weekdays its like 6

do you wear a mask?

No sorry

how do you like your shower water?

warm

is there dishes in your room?

Yes leave me alone

what type of music keeps you grounded?

Heavy stuff. Like fast and hard noises. Nothing slow

do you have a favorite towel?

yeah

the last adventure you’ve been on?

Went 2 bowser movie wth an extended group of people last night and afterwards we walked to winco and did funny things in shopping carts

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

Tbh…no. Im really good at remembering song lyrics in general but i dont think there are any in particular i memorize

what’s your timezone?

Doxx me why don’t you

how many times have you changed your url?

Never <3

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

Uhh.. not really? Am not in much contact with childhood close friends (theres one ive seen a few times recently but we haven’t actually talked). I believe i’ve known tuna for upcoming 8yrs though

a soap bar that smells good?

I dont like bar soap i like the liquid kinds. Old spice

do you use lip balm?

During dry lip season (i forget when this is) my lips get dry as fuck 

did you have any snacks today?

ye

how do you take your coffee?

With ice and chocolate in it

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

Discord & instagram 

what’s your take on spicy foods?

yum (reasonable spice tolerance)

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

Nobody…i hate some people 2 death (i dont think about them so i forget who they are) but theyre not bothering me rn so idc

can you remember what happened yesterday?

Bowser moive

favorite holiday film?

Year without a santa claus (IM MR FREEZE MISER)

what was the last message you sent?

“so far i think the only red text thats restricted to origin is mhin's”

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

Idk ive had sips in young youth. Parents would give me some so i could go “wow this tastes nasty” and not crave any ever (they were right for this)

can you skip rocks?

I may have done it successfully like twice in my life

can i tag you in random stuff?

Ya sure

#asks #mario himself in the movie was extremely mid i did not care about him #cant say if it was entirely the voice actor tho. & it could be entirely my own preferential bias (just dont care abt his kind of character) #&/or mid writing #bowser was cool tho so im calling it the bowser movie #guy who derives 30% of media enjoyment from OST alone: why is there no music in this scene #climax fight scene music was solid but like there wasnt enough good music for me in the rest of the movie #mario was pretty much there to be peach's boytoy and honestly good for her. she slayed hard

[heniareth]

Seven Snippets Sunday Monday

Given that Zevwarden Week 2022 is approaching and I'm. Maybe actually gonna finish all prompts of a challenge for the first time ever? And I was tagged by @oxygenforthewicked (thank you very much for the tag!!), so I've decided to post the first few sentences of my entry for each prompt. Here you go!

⚠️(There is one cw for child death under prompt 6 and prompt 3 features a fight carried out via silent treatment. Proceed with your own well-being in mind)⚠️

1. Culture

Astala was the first one on deck after the lookout announced the sighting of Antiva City. Soon afterwards, the city itself came into view, a colorful tapestry on a green and summer-browned background. The city was loud and crowded, and somewhere within its narrow streets, it harbored Zevran. And she was intent on finding him before this diplomatic visit was over.

2. Gold

"Now this," Astala muttered under her breath, "is a shitton of gold."

The Winter Palace in Halamshiral did indeed hold a shitton of gold on its walls. And its statues. And on the clothing of the ball's attendants, the knobs of its doors, the railings of its stairs and the rims of its champagne glasses. Astala had already acquired two and was now passing one on to Zevran.

"What do you think?"

3. Fights and Reconciliation

Astala lifted her head from her book when Zevran marched past her towards the door out of their quarters. He ignored her hopeful look, his expression still dark with anger and hurt.

"I love you," Astala said quietly as he opened the door.

Instead of answering like he normally did, the door fell shut behind him and his steps gradually faded into the cold, dark confines of the Vigil's Keep.

4. Alternate Universes

Zevran wasn't sure what he was doing here, well past sunset on a dreadfully rainy autumn evening on the streets of Denerim's more run-down districts. He had been walking for hours, never stopping for longer than ten, fifteen minutes. If he dallied, the Crows would catch him. And if they did, he would be dead.

5. Promises

"Promise you will be careful," Zevran said.

"I promise!"

"Me too."

"Alright."

Zevran extended the sheathed daggers towards the twins. The twins went to grab them. Immediately, Zevran pulled them back again.

6. Death

⚠️CW: Death of a child for this one ⚠️

The child had been born roughly one and a half years after Zevran's return from Antiva. Three days later, it had died.

7. Seasons

On the morning of his 79th birthday, Zevran wakes up hours before the rest of his family, as he is known to do, and decides to take a long walk. He grabs one of the canes next to the front door--not that he needs it so long as there are no steep inclines involved, but he likes feeling the cane's weight in his hand and the way it lends him an air of gravitas and dignity--and sets out. His walk brings him down into the Alienage of this small Antivan port city that have been home to him and his Warden for a long time now.

I am ridiculously excited for this challenge and to see what people will be creating XD XD XD XD I will be so looking at absolutely everything. Gotta work the logistics out first, but it's gonna be so much fun.

Tagging you back and also @wild-houseplant @icy-warden @badartxd @siriskulksnerding @bumblerhizal @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas and @scribbledquillz if you would like to participate ^^ Have a lovely week all of you!!

#astala tabris #zevwarden #warden tabris #female tabris #zevran #zevran arainai #zevran x tabris #zevran x warden #zevran/tabris #zevran/warden #dao #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #my writings #six sentence sunday #more like monday #cw: child death

[floofyfluff]

4:18 am summary of me taking a holiday/snow day shift for extra pay. since i have officially finished with my day job as of 1 pm. is that:

cw death and just like. literally every day i desire to kill the concept of god more

i am a moron. how did i forget where i came from in 6 months. it's so cold and its december which means that everyone is dying. 🎶 its the most wonderful time of the year 🎶 the hap-happiest season of all!!!🎶

god does not exist and he does not love you and i wish you would stop giving him credit for work the rest of us are doing. while blaming us for everything else. i GET that you're devastated i DO but hm i guess actually its my fault i didn't see your grandma's atherosclerosis 3 years ago. thanks. yeah its my fault shes dead. i would really love for a medic to show up but unfortunately they're all busy with the people who might be salvageable right now. a doctor??? LMA fucking O that's not going to help. no amount of epi would help here. i'm breaking ribs as a performance rn. my partner has been here for 2 weeks i've never met her before she's visibly developing a panic disorder. she could be more helpful but also it doesn't matter so whatever. i'm just sitting here until med control can call official tod. which they should have called an appropriate crew here to do before we got here. no shockable rhythm here this is exclusively to make you feel better. which i cannot stress enough i would be very willing to do bc i have done worse things for 2 min cycles but you're telling me that it's my fault this happened while im sobbing so honestly. lay off. or die i guess. whichever comes first.

god does not exist he does not love you and if he does exist he in fact thinks its funny that you die while trying to stay warm under your bed when its -8F. he thinks its hilarious. man's got a long record of opening up the earth and swallowing well-meaning families to teach you a lesson about how much life sucks and how you should fear him just in case he can make it suck even more. it's not my fault of your fault that energy costs as much as it does and your mom thought she'd be fine with some extra blankets!!!! she wasn't fine and its not our fault but it sure feels like it doesnt it!!!

god does not exist and does not love you and you are now the third fucking family who has told me that it's my fault your grandpa is dead in 6 hours and i don't care anymore. a medic is gonna show up here in 10 min and give him an i/o and he's still gonna be dead. I am once again hoping that your prayers get him where he wants to go but don't fucking blame me if you think that they don't. take that shit up with god.

god does not exist and he doesn't love you but drunk ass extended family trying to get gma up the stairs and causing So many more problems than they are solving DOES exist. and they are doing 10x more for everyone than thoughts and prayers. i do not want this soda that i now have but thank you. this soda i do not want is also the reason im still alive

wrote this at 4:20 hahah blaze it and its now 5:03 and i have soft cats in my bed so i guess i'll live. also if god existed which for the sake of the world and all that is decent i hope he does not. i'm going to physically fight god

#cw death #i guess #but fucking suck it up tbh #ass o clock cold out there it is both a time and a temperature #i'm sitll going to go to the beach and point at lake michigan in -35f windchill tomorrow/today just to feel alive #also bc gma would want me to flip off the cold for her

[alphonseelriic]

Hi Sofia, hope you're not overworking yourself despite being busy! 🤧

Ooh what is Christmas like there besides being hot? I always wondered why they don't have more popular shows portraying a summer Christmas cus I've never seen that! Like do people do bbqs or something too instead of feasts indoors? 😆 Haha to be fair, where I live it doesn't get snow either and the weather is hit or miss about how cold it is during Christmas season but generally much warmer than most areas' winter 😅. I too admire the white Christmas tho.

Awww your beach days sound positively relaxing!! <3 Hope you'll get there soon!! I miss the beach now too 😩 

No way! Eng/lit sounds difficult haha!! Huge props to you, I imagine there's a lot of papers involved? What do you want to do with your degree? *sending you all the de-stress comfort things during these times*

Thank you for the rec too!! I'll keep that in mind! Unfortunately I read so slow, so I always go for the mindless watching. 😅 

Is shounen your favorite genre? I too love characters who are more than face value. And omg I lovee Haikyuu and almost everyone in there, so I can see that!! Yamaguchi's development was so heartwarming in the beginning.😭

And don't worry I've seen all of FMAB, it's one of my favorite animes so feel free to talk about anything there. I've only watched the anime for Ao no Exorcist but I remember liking it a lot and Rin too. ☺️ So you have good taste!! Thank you for all the insight into your favs, very interesting about Gon too (I'm anime only again lol) ❤️. And please don't stop on my account, I enjoy hearing all your thoughts so be as long as you want haha. 

Question of the week, do you have any favorite colors or palette and why? 

Take care!

- Animanga 🎅

Hello Secret Santa!! I'm sorry for the late reply, today I had a really important and difficult final and I studied all week hahah but it all went well! I got a good grade and I'm in a really good humor rn ;) it's nice seeing the results of your hard work. Hope you're doing well too!!!

Yeah I feel summer Christmas is a really missed opportunity for sure. In the case of my country (and, for what I know, most of south america) most people have reunions with either their nuclear or extended families (in my case it's the latter bc my family is pretty big and close) and eat dinner together, we open the presents at 12 and then stay hanging out till 2 o 3am. My grandma has a big front yard so we put a pair of long tables and seats over the grass. Lately we've been going to my aunt's instead, who has a pool ;)

In general it's a really family oriented and relaxed holiday, but I think it's a cultural thing rather than a southern hemisphere thing. I really don't know how they celebrate in Australia and New Zealand for example :p now I'm curious...

Oww I feel the struggle, living in a place that doesn't have snow can be a bummer sometimes. Winter here feels very gray without it :( but it is what it is....

Yuppp I've written a looooot of papers throughout the career and I still have to keep writing them 😅 they never end, but I was the one that signed up for this so I can't complain much. Hmm to be honest I kinda jumped into this career bc I love reading and I was a dumb 17yo who didn't think much ahead (bad. bad thing to to) but now I would love to work as a text corrector for publishing companies!! But also any kind of job involving libraries is good for me for the time being, I'm not a very ambitious person really. I know the most common path for lit people is teaching but I don't think that's a good match for me, at least not for now. Maybe someday.....

Hahahahah don't worry about it! Despite me loving to read I'm also really slow at reading manga. And I usually only do it when I really liked the anime adaptation to begin with. I think the only one where I started reading the manga first was Spy x family (and now it got an anime and blew up)

I honestly haven't thought about shounen being my favorite genre but I think it's true 🤔 I honestly didn't realize the grand majority of anime I mentioned was shounen LMAO but yeah I tend to like it a lot, specially the less formulaic ones. Aww I'm glad you also love FMAB and Haikyuu :') Yamaguchi's journey was lovely to watch and what cemented him as my fav was how easy it was for me to connect with him! I was also shy and a big pushover in school and I had to learn how to get out of my shell and stand up for myself, just like him. Thanks for the compliment also, Uno reverse card at that 💕

Usually my favorite color palettes are ones with cold colors! Purple is my favorite color in all its shades (but mostly lighter ones) and I love how it goes with blues and greens! I def prefer the more pastel shades in general. Lately I've also been more attracted to warmer colors like yellows and soft oranges, but lilacs and lavenders will always be my favorites 💟

Thanks for the ask and happy weekend!!

#asks #secretsanta2022

[christa--marie]

The Day Before The First Day

Aziraphale perched near the front of a crowded classroom, surrounded by his peers. Not a seat was open, and angels lined the circular stone walls. White drapes fluttered in the windows, overlooking a glorious mountainscape. There was no ceiling, only a gentle glow from above that suffused the room with peace and elegance. Aziraphale and his classmates wore matching robes of white and gold. Their wings rustled; harps strummed in the background.

“The Almighty is working on something new.” Gabriel stood tall and unflappable at the front of the room. “She has devoted all Her energies into it with a tireless, single-minded focus— for a whole half hour!” He allowed that to sink in. The angels murmured, hooked.

“This project, which we are calling the Great Experiment— my idea by the way— will take place between Heaven and Hell, on a wet spinny rock called Earth. The Almighty plans to give this rock to the favorite of her new Creations: humanity.”

“Why?” demanded one of Aziraphale’s classmates, a blunt-eyed knucklehead named Sandolphon.

Gabriel shrugged. “Who knows? Something to do with free will and the discovery of purpose through suffering and imperfect love.” He waved his hand. “But that’s not important, not to us. We are angels, and our divine purpose comes directly from above.”

Aziraphale glanced upward as a reflex. He’d had few run-ins with the Alpha and Omega personally, but he liked to imagine Heaven’s light emanated from Her wise and all-knowing heart. He shivered in awe.

“Our purpose is to keep the legions of Hell at bay,” Gabriel continued. The lines of his face hardened like stone. “Until the Great War, when we will shatter their defenses and grind their bones into dust.”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably at his desk. He’d only ever been in one war before, and he hadn’t liked it at all. He didn’t understand why Lucifer’s minions had to leave Heaven in the first place. Surely there was room enough for everyone, if they could just get along. God’s love was infinite, after all.

Sandolphon grinned. “I like war,” he said. “I think I’ll like a Great War even more. When will that be?”

Gabriel pointed at him. “Sandolphon, I love your enthusiasm, but interrupt me again and I’ll throw you off that balcony.” His face creased in a smile that did not at all undermine his threat. Sandolphon leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know when the Great War will be. No one does. I suppose we’ll get more clues along the way, like a scavenger hunt that goes on for all eternity. Fun, right?” He clapped his hands. “The point is, we have to be ready at all times to serve God’s ineffable plans.”

Aziraphale, who fancied himself a lover of words, repeated this one to himself. Rather less than twenty books had yet been written, and Aziraphale had read all of them at least twice, even The Maintenance Manual for Conscientious Harpists. He’d not heard or read this word before, though, and he didn’t know what it meant, but it sent a little thrill in his heart just the same. ‘Ineffable,’ he mouthed and wiggled, pleased.

Gabriel noticed his lexical rapture and paced between the rows to his desk. Aziraphale sat up straighter, surprised.

“Do you like that word, Aziraphale?” Gabriel tipped his head, lips curled upward in polite amusement.

Aziraphale nodded, wide-eyed.

“Do you know what it means?”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“It means God’s plans are not effable,” Gabriel explained magnanimously. Upon seeing this did not diminish Aziraphale’s confusion like he’d expected, he added with just a touch of asperity, “They cannot be spoken. They are too big for words.”

“Too big for words?” Aziraphale’s first instinct was dismay, but that was quickly swept aside by a crashing wave of wonder. He was bright enough to understand just how little he knew of the great beyond. “Oh my.”

“That’s right.” Gabriel nodded with approval. He said the word again, like he almost understood it.

“More fun news,” he continued, turning to the rest of the class. “One among you will be the first to serve God’s plans on Earth.”

The class tittered. Aziraphale glanced around, wondering who the lucky sod might be.

He looked up again and startled to find Gabriel still standing beside his desk, gazing down at him.

Aziraphale’s heart skipped. “Me?”

Gabriel’s smile was bland. “The Almighty asked for you by name.”

“But…” Aziraphale blinked, utterly confused. There must have been a mistake, some other Aziraphale the Almighty surely meant. “Why?”

“Better not to ask.” Gabriel flashed his teeth. “It’s ineffable.”

Crawly lounged at the back of a dilapidated classroom crowded with gray floors and filing cabinets. Fluorescent lights flickered from a low ceiling. His robe bunched at the knee when he kicked his legs up on the seatback in front of him, flashing black sandals that criss-crossed up his calves. The demon occupying his footrest flicked his head and growled, so Crawly poked him in the neck with a toe. The demon ground his teeth but leaned forward, giving Crawly more room to recline, which he did, indecently.

The classroom was even more claustrophobic than usual, buzzing with the ever-present anticipation of general destruction. Crawly’s fellow demons grunted amongst themselves and paid little attention to the figure standing at the front of the room.

Beelzebub spoke in a monotone, making no attempt to be compelling. Her eyes crossed as she swayed on her feet. Crawly lent half an ear— more than his classmates— and scribbled a quick note on a piece of parchment. He breathed on the drying ink, then folded the paper in half and waved it enticingly at the demon sitting next to him.

“Run this up to Hastur,” he said, just enough of a caress in his voice to keep it from an outright demand. The demon glared at him, suspicious, but took the note like Crawly knew she would and slithered two rows over and several desks up to drop it in Hastur’s lap.

The duke glared at the parchment then twisted around in his seat. Crawly waggled his eyebrows at him. He willed Hastur to take the bait and open the letter— have his wig snatched—

“Surveillance reports say the unbenevolent despot known as the Almighty is working on something new called Earth,” Beelzebub droned. “Where creations made in Her image will walk upon two feet with five toes each, and arms and legs, and all the rest.” A spitball whizzed past her head and landed with a splat on the dusty chalkboard. “She plans to test them with something unpleasant called free will. “

“God’s gotten bored of the angels, has She?” Crawly piped up from the back of the room, interest piqued. His voice cut through the drone. Conversations died out, and Crawly’s peers glanced from him to Beelzebub, taking notice that something if not iniquitous at least moderately irritating was about to happen.

“Can’t say I blame Her,” he drawled, glancing around hopefully for agreement. “Boring, uppity sods without an ounce of imagination between them, am I right?” His question hung in the air, unanswered.

Beelzebub blinked. “I’m talking,” she said, bemused. “Why are you also talking?”

Crawly swung his legs to the floor and unfurled himself from the desk. “Did you say free will?” His voice rose, intrigued. “What’s that?”

Beelzebub rolled her eyes, all of them, even the ones poking out from her kneecaps. She answered in her long-suffering monotone. “It’s space enough from God to choose their own actions, right or wrong, without interference.” At this, she scoffed. “So She says, anyway; we’ll see how long that lasts.”

Crawly’s mind raced. “Well, that’s...” A warm surge of curiosity fizzed in his chest. “...pretty neat.”

Beelzebub’s brow lifted with incredulity. She turned away from Crawly, clearly a lost cause. “The Almighty is sending an angel to watch over the humans and guide them toward righteousness.” Her mouth puckered on the word, and she retched just the slightest bit.

“Hang on,” Crawly interrupted again. “How’s that fair? I thought the point was for them to make their own decisions—”

“Since when has the Almighty acted with consistency?” Beelzebub said. Her eyes blazed briefly, but then she settled back and shrugged. “I suppose encompassing all of existence must get a bit confusing at times.” She lifted a hand to forestall any argument. “I’m not saying I agree with Her, I’m just saying She’s got a lot on her plate, that’s all.”

“But why should the angels have all the fun?” Crawly argued. “Shouldn’t we have some representation up there? Show the humans what a heinous transgression is all about?”

Beelzebub glared at him. “I was getting to that,” she snapped. “Satan, you are annoying.”

Crawly smirked, tossing his hair at the compliment.

“The gates to Earth are equally balanced between Heaven and Hell,” Beelzebub said. “Whatever powers they send, we may send an equal and opposing force, to tempt the humans toward vice and corruption, etcetera etcetera. That way the experiment can remain—” she twirled her hands— “nonpartisan.”

Crawly shrugged. Seemed to him it would make more sense for everyone to stay out of it. He wisely kept this observation to himself.

“So we are sending a demon to Earth to oppose their angel, and more when we get wind of Heaven sending more. As for the first demon to go—” She looked at Crawly, who’s heart began to flutter in spite of himself. “Crawly, you’ve been by far the most irritating demon here today, so I’m sending you.” She glanced around at his classmates, unimpressed. “Really, it’s like the rest of you aren’t even trying.”

“Me?” Crawly blinked, dazed. “Go to Earth? Leave Hell?”

A shriek drew their attention. Hastur leapt from his chair, swatting frantically at the top of his head, which had abruptly caught on fire. Flames licked away his tangled mop-head hair, while Crawly’s note floated innocently to the floor and disintegrated. Crawly glanced at him, then back at Beelzebub, too gobsmacked to appreciate his own prank.

Beelzebub strode forward and clasped his hand in hers. “Don’t thank me,” she said. “You’ve earned it. Now, get up there and make some trouble.”

Stonehenge - 3100 B.C.

Aziraphale stood on a misty moor and watched the humans lug another mammoth stone into place. The current generation used ropes, levers and no small amount of cleverness to manipulate mass far greater than they could hope with only their own strength. Aziraphale watched them with pride. What an exciting time to be on Earth! He sent his thanks to the Almighty for allowing him to witness it.

“What do you suppose the circles mean?” a voice inquired in his ear. “Reckon they even know?”

Aziraphale startled. The demon Crawly slithered from the mist to stand beside him, squinting at the humans.

“Oh. Hello,” Aziraphale said with a small tilt of the head, alight with suspicion but determined to be courteous. The demon turned his slit-eyed gaze upon him. “My, we do seem to cross paths. And how have you been? Still, ah, compelled to acts of base villainy?”

Crawly flashed his incisors. “The basest.”

Aziraphale sighed, his disappointment sincere. “We are all bound to our functions. And what sort of villainy are you instigating here?” he asked, hardly expecting a straightforward answer.

The demon’s features twisted with bemusement. “Tried to convince them this was an alien landing pad,” he said, flicking a hand as the humans hauled another slab across the moor. “But they just keep using it to honor their dead.”

“Alien landing pad?” Aziraphale scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

Crawly glanced at him. “It’s a big universe, angel,” he said. “Awfully short-sighted of you to think Earth is the only planet with a bit of life going on.”

“But we know it is,” Aziraphale argued. “Surely Heaven would know if the Almighty was running multiple experiments.”

Crawly shrugged. “Don’t you ever wonder…”

“What?” Aziraphale asked when he trailed off, intrigued despite himself. He often found himself like this, hanging to the demon’s every word. He supposed it was a trick he’d mastered to catch the humans’ attention while tempting them toward vice and corruption. It was just that Crawly’s conversation was so much more interesting than that of his fellow angels. They talked about the humans, mostly, but also placed they’d visited, agriculture, the fermentation of grapes, and stars. It was a far cry from his typical conversation with the other angels, who mostly liked to talk about smiting and their blasted harps.

The demon elected not to finish his question. “What are you doing in this part of the world, anyway?” he asked instead. “I thought you were watching over Enoch the sourpuss.”

“Ah, yes.” He grimaced a smile. “Enoch has seen fit to continue his ministry without, uhm, day-to-day celestial oversight.”

“Hm.” Crawly’s lips twitched. “So, here for pleasure, then?”

Aziraphale bristled. “Certainly not!” He fussed at the neck of his perfectly creased robes. “I am here on very important business in pursuit of the salvation and betterment of humanity— not that you would know anything about that.”

Crawly shuddered in disgust. “I’d rather be cooked in spider stew than know anything about that.” He picked at his chin. “Sympathetic creatures, spiders.”

Aziraphale took a deep, calming breath of the fresh country air. “I like this place,” he declared. “I’ve been here once before, after that dreadful business with Adam’s sons.” His face fell, but then his eyes softened, roaming over the rolling green hills and bluebird sky. “I was called over to direct a bit of glacial melt— ended up creating the English Channel, if you’d believe it— and found the whole experience quite reviving. I think I’d like to settle down here sometime before it’s all over.”

“Before what’s all over?” Crawly said.

Aziraphale’s lips pursed. “Well— all this.” He gestured helpfully at the landscape. “The Earth has to end someday,” he said, like it was common knowledge.

“It does?” Crawly asked. Aziraphale tipped back on his feet and nodded, musing.

“I imagine once the Almighty has finished Her experiment with the humans and decided whether they’re good or bad, She’ll want to dispense with Earth; tidy up her laboratory, as it were.”

“So God created Earth just to destroy it in the end?” Crawly clarified.

Aziraphale stiffened. He liked Crawly’s inquisitive nature, even if he did rather put him on the spot with his questions.

“Of course, one can’t know for sure,” he said with a touch of haughtiness. “God’s plans are ineffable, after all.”

Crawly regarded him with strange yellow eyes. “You really like that word, don’t you?”

Aziraphale picked at his fingernails, ignoring him.

“How can an ineffable plan have an end, anyway? Isn’t saying that it has an end saying something about it, which can’t be done because it’s too big for words?” He tilted his head and repeated it, mocking. “Ineffable.”

“Don’t worry,” Aziraphale reassured him. “Even if the plan does have an end, it’s going to be quite a long time from now.”

Finish reading on AO3.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #fanfiction #aziraphale #crowley #my take on a season 2 extended cold open

[wonwoonlight]

📣: Doctor!Wonwoo // fluff // 884 words

A/N: hohohoh here i have arrived w the last of my requests 😎 gonna open my request box back on in a bit but not right now because im working on sth :p if i managed to finish it today, then i’ll open it back in a few hours. if not, then myb tomorrow bc im sexc like that😎😎 anyway! enjoy this doctor!wonwoo finding out yn is sick by accident ohoho.

p.s. you guys do know my ask is always open even if the request box is closed, right? dont hesitate to drop by and say sth!🙈

edit: [part 2]

 find the rest of requested drabble here 

It’s been a few days since Wonwoo has last seen you. He’s been cramped with works and he barely even has time to sleep. The last he actually has a proper conversation with you is probably almost a week ago.

He sighs, rubbing his head as he waits for the next patient to come in. This is probably his last one of the day and he wishes you’re not too busy yourself so he can see you once he gets off work.

An elderly woman comes in by herself, telling him how she’s been feeling. Wonwoo just nods along, writing some stuff down before he asks the nurse to take the woman to the examination bed to do the standard procedure.

Wonwoo stretches in his seat after that, sighing in relief once the woman thanks him and walks out of his room. He’s about to gather his stuff and leave when one of the nurses comes back in, smiling at him with guilt.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but Dr. Choi asked if you can take his last patient? He has a sudden call from one of the professors so he has to go.”

Sighing to himself, he nods before he sits back down as he cracks his neck. One more patient shouldn’t take that long. He doesn’t even look at the clipboard the nurse gave him, it’s probably another case of cold and fever. With the season getting colder, a lot of his patients have been having cold cases.

“Oh…?” the patient exclaims when the door opens, her voice strangely familiar.

Wonwoo looks up to see his girlfriend blinking continuously at him. “But I asked for Dr. Choi…?”

“You’re sick?” Wonwoo frowns, worry quickly filling his system. “And why didn’t you come to me?”

You smile guiltily at the nurse, though he seems to understand you’re not just a patient to Wonwoo. You sigh as you walk to the seat in front of his desk. You didn’t mean to come here, not wanting Wonwoo to worry; but the insurance from your company is only claimable if you go to this hospital and another one that’s two hours away. So, you have just wished Wonwoo would be too busy or off work when you’re here with another doctor.

“Because you’d worry too much,” you tell him. Well, no use hiding it anymore, now. “Did Dr. Choi send me to you?”

“Yes, he’s got a call from one of the professors,” he quickly answers, his posture turning straight. Wonwoo searches for your face, he can tell for sure you’re a bit pale than usual and you definitely seem much too lethargic for his own liking. “What are your symptoms?”

You blow out your cheeks, reluctantly telling Wonwoo you’ve been lightheaded for a few days now and got a little warm last night.

Wonwoo frowns even more, not liking the situation one bit. He knows you’ve always been rather independent, but does it need to be this extend? He keeps it to himself for now, not wanting to debate with you in his work place in front of the nurse.

“Go lay down so I can check on you,” he says, not meeting your eyes. Truthfully, you feel a bit guilty that Wonwoo has to find out this way. It’s not like you’re trying to hide it from him, but you figure Wonwoo’s been having a lot of patients than usual these days and you think you’d tell him if it gets worse after this doctor visit.

Who thought you’d end up with him in this room now?

As he goes to exam you, you don’t dare to meet his eyes. You can tell that he’s upset and he’s rightfully so, you’d be upset too if Wonwoo’s sick and didn’t tell you anything.

“I’ll prescribe you some meds that would help. Make sure to take everything,” Wonwoo curtly says, giving the clipboard to the nurse.

When the nurse goes out, he looks at you with something that you’d describe as close to disappointment. Before he can get even more upset, you decide it’d be better to act cute in hope it will ease things off a little.

“Woo~” you pout with your whiny tone. It’s a tone Wonwoo knows well, ones you use when you’re trying to get him on your good side. “You know I don’t mean to hide it from you.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, deciding to indulge your little game. “That’s why you step into this hospital and book an appointment with Hansol?”

You pout even more, looking at him pitifully. “It’s just that Dr. Choi has less appointments than you are.”

“You really think I’d buy that?” he asks, a bit amused. It’s kind of cute the way you’re making up reasons. “Whatever. Just get your meds and wait for me by the lobby. We’re going home.”

“You’re done for the day?” you ask, your eyes following Wonwoo’s figure as he moves around to gather his things.

“I should be until Hansol’s patient is referred to me.”

“Woo~” you whine again and Wonwoo just laughs at your tone.

He stands near you and hold out his hand to help you stand up, there’s determination in his eyes as you take his hand. “You’re not leaving your bed until tomorrow under my care.”

#wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #wwreq #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen drabbles #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo fic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenario #svt scenario #svt imagines #svt fic #seventeen au #svt scenarios

[stevevans]

i know who you pretend I am -f.o

summary - when you think you have nothing left, the capitol proves they can take more.

warnings - torture, violence, angst, general thg violence

w.c - 1.7k

part 2?

District 13 was completely underground, the reception was terrible so there were only a few tvs, none allowed to Finnick and Katniss personally.

They had each other, each day they grew closer, from the Hospital beds to their own rooms to even eating meals together. Sometimes Annie and Mags would come out and join them.

“I wish they were dead. I wish Y/N was dead.”

His eyes were red and swollen from crying, deadpanning as he looked up at Katniss. She truly never got the opportunity to digest how terrible the Capitol truly is.

Finnick had years, she won’t know until it hits her directly.

“She was supposed to get out first. Before me.”

He felt guilt, pilling up in his chest as he tried to suppress tears, letting out a roar of anger instead. Katniss waited until he was done to sit down beside him, promising to get you and Peeta back.

As they eat the same lunch, the tv turns on. Commotion begins as they all turn, Finnick putting down his spoon, eyes wandering to the screen. He figures it will be another work announcement, yet what he did not expect is to see you.

The sofa you two sat on was blood red, propping you both up like dolls. Dressed in a white gown, tulle pooling at your calves and silk draped over your body, loose sleeves that puff out like the paper muffin liners you both used at home, your eyes glassy as you shifted besides Peeta.

He looked good, yet you looked fragile.

Caesar Flickerman’s voice and face came up as the camera panned,

“Hello, we have a special message for the Radicals creating tyranny, from two of our favorite Victors, Peeta Mellark and Y/N L/N.”

Katniss and Finnick were out of their chairs by now, walking closer to the tv as he slipped his hand into her’s, trying to comfort her and ground himself.

Peeta spoke first, his mind seemed to not truly be all there. You kept messing with your dress, looking down and up and around, makeup caked on your face.

“People are hurting, put down your weapons.” The last thing Finick expected was for you to speak,

“Please, Radicals, listen to us. You do not want a fight, we have lived in peace for so long, we all need to do our part in keeping the peace.”

As the people of 13 started to get angry, slamming their trays, whispering harsh words until it turned into screams and Finnick could barely hear the tv, his ears were ringing as the room spun.

He could see your face scrunch in confusion as Caesar explained what happened in the arena, shaking your head, your hand coming to tap on your face.

“No, no, no Finnick would have told me. They did nothing wrong. They would never do that. We do not know what is going on, Finnick loves me, they have to be keeping him hostage, he’d never abandon me.” Your voice wavers as the tv goes dark when Peeta begins spouting gibberish.

He fell to his knees in the cafeteria as the voices called you a traitor. The rest he blocked from his head as guilt ran through his bones.

As the seasons changed, unnoticed by Finnick he grew sicker. Katniss had made a deal that you and Peeta would be rescued at the earliest convenience, but he couldn’t help the feeling that overcame him frequently.

Peeta had only been on the tv one more time since he saw your face, and he looked worse. Finnick could only imagine how you looked, what you were going through, what they were doing to you, and it broke him. So he took to staring at the picture you wanted him to burn.

You promised he would never need another picture of you, since you were going to spend the rest of your life by his side.

How the times change he would think bitterly.

He was listening to a propo with Katniss when Coin came in, demanding Beetee change the channel, that they needed to see.

It wasn’t you. That was a ghost.

Your eyes were sunken, deep purple bags, your cheekbones poking through your skin like sharp knives, you were shaking, trembling, hair falling in your face, yet pinned perfectly.

He could see your nails, chipped and stained red, from blood, he would know the sickly color anywhere, it frequently found him in his night terrors.

You looked terrible, your collarbones peeking out from under your dress. This time it was a pretty blue, like the water, a deep neckline where he could make out marks and bruises that the makeup couldn’t hide.

It shimmered, sparkling like when the sun hit the water just right at sunset. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying, tears already threatening to leak. Peeta looked just as bad. Matching eye bags and bruises, he wondered, selfishly, if they were hurting him more because of Katniss. He wished they were.

When Peeta started speaking you seemed dejected, detached, almost like you weren’t there, your mind far from the Capitol.

“Now Y/N, care to extend on Peeta’s point?”

“Can I go home? I’ve been good, can I please go home? My Mother must be going crazy wondering where I am. I just want the fighting to stop, I want to see my Boyfriend F-'' Your voice died off, as if you failed to remember his name, and his hope dwindled. The TV quickly cut off after that, Peeta’s anger ending the Capitol message abruptly.

All of the Capitol prisoners were rescued a few days later, Finnick and Katniss could hardly contain their excitement. Haymitch had warned them that it would most likely take a long time to find out what all the Capitol put you both through, but Finnick could care less, he just wanted you back.

They had told him that when they came they could hear the broadcast Finnick was giving, and you were screaming so loud they went to your room first, knocking you out with gas.

He was just ecstatic to see you in person again.

The Doctors refused to leave you alone, test after test, blood pressure, pulse, how are you? All over again and again. You were just so tired, You wanted to sleep, but the bed felt too cold.

Everything felt off, it was strange, you felt as if you didn’t belong here, yet you were forced to stay. They told you only what could keep your head above water, always pressuring you to speak more, but your voice was gone.

You shook with an unknown fear every time you thought you saw him. He was the villain of your story, the night terrors that kept you from sleeping, that had you begging Peeta to meet you at the wall to talk, but Peeta stopped coming.

Memories were hazy, the Capitol was weird, you can’t quite put your finger on what they did, the memories all blurred together, but judging by the new weight on your body and the way everyone treated you as the most delicate, fragile creature, you knew it was bad.

The doctors said you had a special visitor, yet they still refused you a mirror, or even a bit of makeup. You had missed human interaction that was not Doctors, Haymitch, or some Government official in 13.

You hoped it was Peeta or Johanna.

You felt like it wasn’t you in your body, shaking, as you climbed off of the white hospital bed, the sheets were wrinkle-less, and when you woke up they were still perfect, pristine, it reminded you too much of the Capitol.

Facing the wall as you waited for your guest you started to pick at the bed of your nails. It hurt, but you were real. They had at least let you put on a shirt and pants after you had begun gaining weight back.

You let your hair down from the ponytail it was in, running a shaky hand through it. Picking at the ends you watched the ground as the door opened. The voice was soft, but it got you to perk up, fear running down your spine and filling you up from the bottom up.

“Baby, is it really you?” his voice was soft, he sounded sad, you could see his feet coming closer, slowly, but it still came closer.

No matter how soft he spoke, you filled with fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him yet, hands bunching into fists as your nails dug into your palm.

“Please go away.” Your voice wavered, wanting to cry.

“They told me they are still wondering what happened, but it's okay. You’re okay, I will never let them touch you again. I will kill every last one of them if they even try to touch you.”

You had won the Hunger Games, you could do this, you could evade him long enough to press the big red help button.

He must have taken your silence as complicitness as he shuffled closer to you, causing you to let out another scream at the top of your lungs.

“Please! Back away!”

He seemed sad by your actions, slowing him down long enough for you to nimbly run past him and press the red button,

They kept your door closed so you were ‘safe’ they said, but it was to keep you inside.

“Help me! Please! Help me! He’s trying to kill me! Please!” You screeched, screaming until Haymitch burst in, along with Plutarch and a plethora of Nurses and Doctors.

The man, you couldn’t even say his name, started screaming,

“What the fuck did you do to her? What the fuck did you let them do? Don’t fucking touch me!” Haymitch had to take him out with the help of security,

“They did it with Peeta too, they made her think you are the bad guy. It is not our fault, or yours, the Capitol did this, remember that. The Capitol.”

You tried to stop screaming and crying, but your body would not allow for it. As soon as he was out you crumpled onto the floor, sobs wracking your body as you begged.

The next thing you knew was darkness.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #the imagine #the hunger games imagine #thg x reader