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lightlycareless · 1 year

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First, it hurts— Chapter XXVI

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: the overwhelming sensation of despair, slight mentions of abuse, allot of secrecy between relatives, confrontations 💀 and that seems to be all of it!

A/N: Hi!! It feels good to only have to post one part haha that's what I get for writing long chapters x.x anyways, still a pleasure to write them haha!

Without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 27

Ao3 link.

Hinata was pleased to admit that her meeting with Gojo hadn’t been as uneventful as she initially anticipated.

Sure, the man was known to be powerful and all knowing, thanks to the countless resources placed to his disposal via the Gojo clan, as well as through his own merit..

Perfect in every sense of the word, and a powerful ally anyone would be honored to have, more to ask favors from .

And yet… she continuously feared that this encounter would’ve been nothing more than a bunch of diplomatic excuses to avoid the situation all together, because as much as he was highly regarded as the best sorcerer of this generation, he was still an irresponsible young man with a lot of things to learn.

“I can’t barge in and cancel your sister’s marriage without getting any of us in trouble, many would think it to be incredibly convenient that I’ve decided to step in now, eh?” she imagined Satoru complaining. “And that would also cause friction between the two families, and who wants to deal with that??”

However, all her worries (or the vast majority of them) would’ve turned obsolete in time once she realized that even if Gojo genuinely found himself with his hands tied when it came to actually pulling out from that wretched house, he was still all about advocating against the elders.

So, with what little he could afford to do, he gave Hinata all of the resources he thought adequate to aid her help—while keeping his name out of the equation—, but not without ending in a disquieting tone that only deepened her sour aftertaste.

“Why don’t you contact the Kamo clan? ” He’d considered as the two made their way towards the nearest train station. Satoru had previously attempted to offer Hinata a ride back home in a more private and comfortable setting, that being his car. But your sister, who was already risking too much by being with him, decided to fall into the tranquility of mundanity and take the public transport to avoid getting caught with him.

Also, if she was to successfully complete your rescue mission, she needed to keep her mind as clear as possible, and a change of scenario might just do the work.

“You already have a stronger connection to them thanks to the young heir, Noritoshi-kun” He continued on “He’s 9 already years old! Can you believe that?—or was it ten? Eh, who knows, I’m not that good with birthdays anyways”

Hinata gave her best to ignore his words and to continue walking onto her destination, or she fears she would’ve laughed right there and then.

It was so incredulous, so out of touch… but well matching with his nature.

Had he been there to see how her distant cousin was treated throughout her “relationship” with the Kamo clan leader, and subsequently discarded once she gave birth to the future heir, he would’ve never dared to say that in her face.

It was absolutely foul to see how the elders attempted to justify the Kamo clan’s actions, citing that this had been the arrangement from the beginning, and even if it wasn’t, surely nobody was expecting the mistress to stay at the estate while the wife was still alive! Even if the latter had no leverage on her defense after failing tremendously on the one responsibility she had as the lady of the house.

Infuriating, but not shocking. They have always been unruly when it came to treating their family, your parents being the earliest example Hinata could think of—in that, she could assess them to be fair.

What rattled her the most out of this situation, after her distant relative’s treatment, was the reaction of the legitimate wife.

Your sister could understand her animosity towards the idea of having her husband’s mistress lingering around the estate, but instead of considering this to be a cruel political game to pit both women against each other, a symptom of the patriarchal disease plaguing the jujutsu community, she decided to take this as a personal attack and shamelessly join the barbarous inquisition against your distant cousin—dumping her onto the street without offering her a way to fend herself, even after all that she seemingly sacrificed for the clan, as well as giving her a bad reputation that would follow her all the way back to the L/N estate, earning her another dosage of mistreatment, this time, from your family.

She was the reason why Noritoshi wasn’t permitted to see his mother ever again after she left, the reason why the young child felt pressured to accept a role he never wanted in hopes of reconnecting with her in the future, as well as treating him as nothing but a bastard , instead of recognizing the victim that he ultimately was—effectively robbing him from any semblance of a normal life and family.

It wasn’t the elders, nor the husband, responsible for the mother’s mistreatment—although they were willing bystanders—but the wife .

This soon turned out to be too much for the poor woman to handle on her own, and as expected, she eventually left the estate and cut ties with everyone, never to be seen again.

These were all things that you and your siblings were unable to comprehend or stop at the moment due to their young age, and the adults weren’t of much help either, simply delegating these successions as difficult family affairs whenever either dared to ask, their constant refusal eventually leading their curiosity to die out with time.

So no, she was not going to ask for their help—they were cut from a similar fabric as the Zen’in’s, although of a different color. Might as well ask them to hand you over directly!

Either way, this recollection of the past is something that remained well imprinted in your sister’s mind, a burning memory that only grew stronger and painful the more she knew of the society she was to serve, which soon turned into one of the many encouragements to do what was right.

Do what she should with the image she represented: ensure a safe environment for the people under her protection, so that none of these things would happen again.

… But now, it’s a thought that makes her feel stupid.

To begin, she’s supposed to be the golden child of her clan: The one carrying the invaluable inherited technique of the L/N, one that held great historical worth alongside power, but had unfortunately been absent from the world for many, many years.

No matter their approach, no child seemed to be born with this technique that essentially kept them on the map, and the fear of fading into the past became more of a reality by each passing day.

That is, until Hinata was born.

When her arrival was announced, she was quickly revered as the L/N’s savior, the one that ensured a bright future for as long as they played their cards right.

And yet, she wasn’t able to save you .

To be revered as salvation itself was nothing more than a formality, for she held no influence nor relevance when the elders decided to sell you to the Zen’in as soon as her engagement to the Gojo heir turned obsolete.

She wasn’t able to stop your father from agreeing and organizing that sham of a celebration from happening, nor Naoya from hurting you and mocking her.

And all of this… happening right under her nose.

She wants to stay angry at your father. She wants to stay angry at Naoya, at the elders, the whole world if she could!

But she can’t. Because it’s unproductive… as well as having another emotion taking its space in turn, that being, Satoru’s chilling allusion:

The possibility of you falling in love with Naoya.

Hinata might’ve made fun of your preferences back in the day, just to get a reaction out of you. It was all of a humorous nature, of course, for she knew very well that your standards couldn’t possibly be that mediocre. A comforting thought that stopped her from slapping the idea out of Satoru’s face—in fact, she wishes she’d done so before hopping on the train…

Because now she can’t remove the possibility of… what if…

What if you did?

What if you somehow… god forbid, ended up growing fond of Naoya throughout the time you’re there?

What if… during the time she’s secluded from you… you somehow come to the conclusion that staying with the Zen’in was for your benefit? However that might come to be?

Hinata sighs, and in this moment of heedlessness, her mind takes her back to the last time she saw you.

The sorrowful sight of the bruises on your body was perhaps the only thing she could remember from her encounter with you, asides from your equally frightening plea for help in the form of your homesick tears. Images that make her stomach drop, her blood run cold, and sleepless at night.

More so for the implication behind them.

Your bruises weren’t ones that she’d categorize as normal. Normal, as in relatable to an active sorcerer:

These weren’t bruises that came from a dangerous mission, or a friendly training session—No, none of these things matched your reality.

These injuries were made out of pure perversion, filling a narcissistic need to mark you as his property, break your autonomy, mock her presence, and insult your family.

As if to show that he had authority over you , and no matter what your sister did, you’ll stay right where he wants you.

What kind of husband purposely hurts their wife to inflate their ego?!

Naoya was—and Hinata was on her way to prove him wrong. After all, she already held a victory over him, and she’s damn sure she can do it again.

But God, this was turning out to be her hardest task yet…

Well, before she’s able to do as much as continue with her mission, she first wants to check how everything was faring back at home.

Ren had agreed to keep a close eye on their clan whilst she goes out and does what needs to be done, such as going up to meet Satoru—an event that was kept a secret from them to begin with, hidden underneath the excuse that she was simply going out to get some new clothes after her payroll came in.

It seemed to work, at least for now, for no one asked any more questions outside what store she was planning to visit before leaving her alone..

Neither could run the risk of revealing she’d gone to see Satoru, for it would only get their unwanted attention all over her business. They’d grow suspicious, start asking questions, and eventually… they’d get an air of what she’s been planning to do: get you out of that sick marriage with the Zen’in heir.

Because why else would your sister show her face to the Gojo heir, after the humiliation she’d put her family and his through after ending their engagement, if it wasn’t to ask for a favor?

Thinking of your family’s crystal-clear preference for those in power, it makes it almost impossible to not see why your marriage went through in the first place. Guess she was just surprised for how fast they were to fold for the next biggest fish in the pond, and how your father seemingly didn’t put up a fight.

Had their mother been alive, she would’ve nev—

Hinata shakes the thought of her mother out of her head before it sprouts any bigger.

She’d gone through great efforts to get her mind steady and clear to perform her duties as efficiently as possible, thus she had to be careful not to get distracted on unnecessary details. Especially those that were written in stone… intertwined with excruciating pain.

But if she had to put a label on what she’d thought her mother’s feelings would be… disappointment would only be the tip of the iceberg.

Well, there’s no use in voicing the words of a person who is no longer around to speak for herself, not when her memory just prompted another layer of frustration to Hinata’s already tangled mind.

For now, she must focus on what’s happening in her home, to know if her actions had remained under the radar from the disingenuous elders, and maybe… just maybe… news from you.

“I’m home” Is what Hinata says as soon as she crosses the wooden gates of her home. She forces a smile out of her lips upon observing a wave of servants rushing to greet her amicably, barraging her with all kinds of courtesies—from hanging her bag, getting her something to eat or drink, to even preparing her a bath. A suitable welcome for the heir of the L/N clan.

But one that would be shut down delicately, for as appetizing as getting a bath sounded like after a long day of urbanity, it’s something it’ll have to wait until she knows how Ren and Sumire have been—a statement that prompted the servants to disperse, more so after the presence of said older brother became apparent just behind them.

“Welcome back” Ren greets, now just a few feet away from his sister. Sumire tags along just a few seconds after.

“You’re back, Hinata-san!” Sumire sang as she ran towards her, bumping into her and bringing her into an embrace.

Your sister didn’t need to go beyond her gesture to understand that while coming from a place of concern for her personal well-being, was more of an outburst of anxiety at the prospect of new information regarding you—either way, she took no offense to her demonstration and returned said affection with a hug of her own.

“How was your… day out?” Ren cautions through a carefully selected wording he presumes would pass undetected through the ears of those that lingered around. Because even after his younger sister dismissed them, he has no doubt that those whose loyalty inclined more towards the elders took her request more as a recommendation.

“Good—quick. A nice change of scenery after all the work I’ve done” Quick to catch his scheme, Hinata plays along with a group of corny sentences that she believes will dissolve any suspicion. “I got some cute sweaters for this upcoming winter, but since I didn’t want to carry them back home, I asked for my items to be delivered here”

“I’m glad! You always seem to be taking the roughest missions, you deserve to relax once in a while” Ren continues on as he glances one more time towards the wall he senses a servant to be.

His keen perception has him attentive to a noise likened to roaming footsteps, undoubtedly representing the departure of those that stayed behind in hopes to catch something to inform the elders—a tactic that became somewhat common ever since you were taken out of the picture: whether to see how your siblings were faring with this undesirable predicament, or because they were already suspicious of something happening behind the scenes, he has yet to decide.

Anticipating how these ordeals often go down, Ren signals Hinata and Sumire to hold their thoughts for a bit longer, at least until the bystanders' footsteps disappear and are effectively out of earshot.

Once he assesses them to finally be out of their midst, Ren is finally able to go back to Hinata to speak what they’re truly interested in.

“How did it go?” He whispers, low, barely hearable by the alarmed ears of Sumire (who kept an eye out for any fellow staff member that might’ve stayed behind without Ren noticing), but loud enough for a focused Hinata whose determination never left her mind.

“…Not here” she advises back in the same tone as she gently shakes her head.

Sumire and Ren then glance at each other for a quick second before nodding and gesturing to Hinata to follow them into a room they had anticipatedly prepared for such an occasion—away from the servants, the elders, and all those in between.

A place that had been long abandoned, for there was never a necessary use behind it, aside from a few occasions here and there, subsequently redecorated as a guest room after the owner passed away—your mother’s private chambers.

Once safely inside the confines of their new rendezvous point, and after double checking they haven’t been followed, or lost anyone that might’ve thought themselves undetectable, Hinata promptly begins.

“It was… beneficial, much more than what I expected” she informs while heading towards the middle of the room where a small wooden table was to be found. Hinata reaches for a nearby brown pillow to sit on, patting it a few times before finally taking a seat, an action soon replicated by Sumire and Ren.

Once on the floor, she couldn't help but sigh, alleviating with it the burden of her fatigue which she’s kept at bay for the past few hours.

Hinata was no stranger to being outside her home, hometown even, for long hours, without rest and under stressful circumstances—all thanks to the career path that she selected.

However, the emotional burden she was carrying was bound to take a toll on her body one way or another, and considering that it had been far heavier than anything she had endured before, it was no surprise that everyday instances had now become far more difficult.

No amount of training would have given her the necessary tools to deal with her emotional turmoil, outside of laying on her futon and disconnecting from the world for a few minutes.

Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she was able to get 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep?

Between missions, meetings, and you… she hasn’t been able to do much more than getting quick naps here and there—perhaps 4 hours of sleep, if she somehow really tired herself out . Hinata can’t help but feel like a dog with that silly comparison… before whiplashing into a wistful thought.

Were you having better luck than her? Were you able to sleep at night? Rest?

…

Knowing the horrors that haunted that family, she dreadfully presumes not.

Hinata can’t wait for the moment you’re finally back home, with the people that love and care for you.

But until then, she’ll power through her difficulties—one way or another, like she’d always have.

“Is he going to help us?” Sumire’s optimistic question snaps her out of her spiraling thoughts and back to the present. Hinata blinks, readjusting her blank vision before focusing on Sumire’s face.

There was something swirling in her eyes that your sister couldn’t identify as anything else but hope as she intently looked back at her in awe.

Your best friend really had no intention of being in this meeting. And it’s not because she wasn’t welcomed—far from that. They knew just how important she was to you and vice versa, however, this was a fight that she would undeniably lose if she ever finds herself in the crossfires. Something that both Ren and Hinata wanted to avoid as much as possible, even if it meant keeping her in the dark.

Nonetheless, Sumire made it her life mission to be there with your siblings and offer support wherever she can, even with her great disadvantage. And for that, Hinata and Ren are greatly appreciative of.

So you could only imagine how distraught Hinata must’ve felt when she relayed her answer through the subtle shake of her head in denial, worsening once she caught a glimpse of Sumire’s hopeful eyes quickly switching into ones of desolation.

“ What? ” Ren is the first to speak up, a scowl on his face as he grits his teeth—your sister doesn’t know if it’s towards Satoru, or the addition of another obstacle in the race to get you back. Either way, he was not pleased. “Then how is that to our advantage, sister?”

“He’s not going to help, at least not personally… nor directly” Your sister explains “But he did give me suggestions to go through… And you guys wouldn’t believe the number of things he told me today”

“What did he say?” Ren raises an eyebrow.

Your brother was… one of the many people that weren’t that fond of Satoru, in fact, he could probably count with one hand just the amount of people that did like him.

However, as time passed, he had grown to be somewhat understanding of him due to his relationship with his family, as well as the upbringing he was unfortunate to have. Leading him to see Gojo as… well, an obnoxious younger brother, rather than his abhorrent brother-in-law . “What stupidity did he come up with today so he wouldn’t help us?”

That didn’t mean he couldn’t hold a bit of skepticism towards him, though.

If there’s something that Ren dislikes the most about the sorcery community, it’s the deafness people in power seem to have when approaching subjects that affect others. They always seem to be so…above others, simply because they were fortunate enough to grow into privileges others might never experience in their life, as if they didn’t have the power to change that!

And Satoru was no exception, until in recent years that is, when he finally decided to take his role in the world of jujutsu as something serious with endless opportunities to enact positive change.

But even then, he has yet to fully grasp the weight of his actions. It’s what led Ren to believe that Hinata’s suggestion of seeking help through Satoru might not be as beneficial as she thought in the first place.

Even if he knew that he cared for his sisters… he could never know what he might come up with—more often than not, taking this situation with the same level of maturity he always did, in other words, not earnestly: and if that had been the case, Ren might just have to give him a visit as well…

Thankfully, your sister is quick to come to the rescue by injecting leniency into the conversation, just before Ren is able storm out of the room and head towards the Gojo estate.

“…He’s guarding the current holder of the Ten Shadows Technique” she confesses “in other words, the next heir of the Zen’in clan”

Sumire blinks, unable to understand the meaning or depth of the just mentioned technique, and how that relates to you, remaining silent and somewhat serious as she darts glances between your sister and your brother in hopes of obtaining the semblance of an answer.

Sure, she’s heard of techniques before, mainly through you, but never in great detail.

First, these were topics that were ruled out as confidential for anyone outside the main branch—such as herself— only knowing of your ability, your siblings’, and a few mission debriefs here and there, due to her close relationship to them, but never more than that.

Secondly, because even if you were willing to share information the elders didn’t seem necessary for a staff member to know with her, you often avoided these topics in favor of doing something far more entertaining than work—jujutsu could be very tedious when it came down to it, and you didn’t wish to bore your best friend to death in the short time you were allowed to see her.

Ren, on the other hand, could not have understood the significance of her words and the shocking revelation that tied you to this statement any better. He’d been in the game long enough to understand how politics work in this realm, perhaps more than he would’ve liked to know, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s able to piece the pieces together as soon as Hinata confined her findings, evident by the way his mouth falls agape and his eyes widen, which only brings a far more confused reaction out of Sumire.

“That’s—Do you know what that means?” Ren urges, and Hinata nods. “That means that their marriage isn’t of any use anymore! It can be annulled!”

“Wait, wait! I don’t understand” Sumire frets, beginning to feel as if she were falling out of the loop… as if she hadn’t felt like that ever since your marriage was announced. “How is that going to help Y/N-chan get back home?”

“This is just assuming if the marriage was constructed under those pretenses…” Hinata resentfully whispers, a sentiment that your brother opts to ignore with the aim of clinging onto the small ray of hope that appeared in the dark horizon of your absence.

“We still have to give it a shot” Ren responds before turning to Sumire and offering her the explanation she so desperately desired. “Marriages in the jujutsu community are often done under the objective of creating strong children: regardless of the curse, as long as the kid has high amounts of energy and is talented , the marriage is considered successful.

However, the rules change when the 3 main families are involved. There is a thing called inherited techniques in most families, something like a heirloom that’s passed through generations—these are most powerful when it comes from them though”

“Just like my technique” Hinata adds and Sumire hums.

“Because of their power, these are often taken as the definers of the next head of the clan, so it’s unsurprising these are highly sought after” Ren continues on “But here’s the catch: they only appear once every few years, and there’s never two users at the same time. Some people might try to change this, just as my family intended with Hinata and Satoru, but there has never been a record of a successful attempt. So, taking this into consideration, as well as the existence of user of the Zen’in’s technique…”

“That means… there’s no reason for Y/N to be married anymore!” Sumire’s beams, her face lightening up once she sees what they did “That’s—That’s wonderful, Hinata-san! Can’t you see? We can finally save Y/N-chan!”

But your sister remains contrastingly motionless, somber. Almost as if she hadn’t heard any of the words they said… or more likely, knew more to the story than they did.

“What’s wrong?” Ren murmured; throat strained and face furrowed as the prospect of something… terrible begins to settle in the back of his mind. He swallows when her silence eventually confirms his assumptions. “There is something else… isn’t it?”

“…Satoru implied the clan already knew of their existence… specifically Naobito, their leader. He allegedly attempted to buy the user out of their family but the transaction never went through” She says, and the implication behind her words has Ren silently dwelling in incredulity “But if we consider what you just said, and the fact that Y/N is yet to return home… All I can think of is that this marriage was struck for other conditions, and thus, this information is… irrelevant”

At the climax of his anger, all that Ren can do is scoff.

He should’ve known .

He should’ve known this would happen the very moment everything began to go their way.

It was just too easy, wasn't it? Too simple for a solution to suddenly appear before them when all hope seemed to vanish.

No, because fate never worked that way. Because things were never that effortless when it came to doing the right thing, of course.

The Zen’in truly did an exceptional job covering their asses—if only they applied such resolution in treating you well.

“Then what?” Ren cursed; frustration apparent in the tight clench of his hands against his palm and the crescent moons forming beneath them. “ What now? ”

“That’s where Satoru helped me” Hinata reveals “With the ongoing crisis, sorcerers have been required to essentially make a record of every movement they make—all I have to do is check Naoya’s records at the Kyoto school to get an idea of his whereabouts before the wedding, assuming what that everything my father said was somewhat true”

It’s a solution, one that Hinata sets down in attempts of easing his brother’s and Sumire’s rising concern… coincidentally, the one that would also take the longest to complete. Achieving the exact opposite of what she wanted.

But even when boiling in anger, Ren is capable enough to keep his cool and analyze her words and the following actions to take.

“That’s dangerous” Ren is quick to note after a second of consideration. “You’re going dangerously close to their territory, and if they somehow get word that you’re investigating Naoya…”

“I know, I know” she groans, pressing her fingers against her forehead in an attempt to ease the headache slowly starting to form in her head. “I’ve already considered everything, the dangers, the expenses… everything”

“I wish I could help” Sumire laments “…I’m just here… unable to do anything for Y/N-chan except clean her room… ”

“You’ve done enough for us, Sumire” Hinata comforts, giving her a smile “I’m sure she’ll appreciate you keeping her things in order”

“… I just want her to be back” she adds “I want to help”

“We know” Ren sighs, patting Sumire’s back as to ease her nerves before looking back to Hinata. “Then… that’s what you’re going to do?”

“Yeah. I plan to get a basic idea of where he's been, if he’s been near our properties, or if someone saw him do anything suspicious… I also asked Satoru about it and he said he hasn’t heard anything—whatever they did, whoever they hired, if that was the case, they did a good job keeping everything away from the sun”

“Guess it’s a necessary skill to sustain themselves for as long as they have” Ren concludes “A clan doesn’t get to live that long without committing atrocities here and there. It’s was only natural that they’d learn how to keep it a secret from the rest of the world”

Just as your family had done. Perhaps to a lesser extent than the Zen’in, but the L/N clan had also earned its fair share of crimes throughout their existence, and had long since learned how to sleep at night after betraying their own relatives.

Unfortunately, a skill that would probably never go out of fashion: As long as there is corruption in the hearts of humanity, abuse will prevail. And that’s something that will end with her .

“Well, that’s what I managed to get on my part” Hinata concludes, moving onto the next subject “What about… you? How are things in the estate? With your… girlfriend?”

“Oh, I don’t want you to worry about that right now, but if you must know… we’re ok” Ren says, crossing his arms and resting them on the table “we managed to postpone a lot of things without having to lose our deposit, so there’s that”

Ren considers himself lucky to have such a supporting partner, especially when the prospect of losing great amounts of money just to postpone their wedding and honeymoon still lingered over their heads.

However, his girlfriend understood all too well the situation and agreed to wait a little longer until things were better with his future in-laws—besides, what kind of wedding would it be if you weren’t even there?

After that, Ren promised himself to make it up to her after everything was dealt with, starting by retiring from the jujutsu world and taking on all of the household responsibilities so she could completely focus on her career.

It’s only necessary if he wants to raise a family with her.

But until then, he shall continue to play his part on the urgent mission at hand.

“As for the estate… I fear I was not as efficient as you. Everyone has been rather… silent, evasive even, right?” He looks over at Sumire, and she nods “Yet, there have been moments where I believed to have seen some kind of… vacillation coming from certain members of the staff, and elders for that matter, whenever I was around. Take that however you want”

“I’d too be nervous if I had something to hide” Hinata accuses, rolling her eyes “…and if I was as intimidating as you are”

“You are intimidating” Ren corrects, reflecting on the actual reason as to why they’ve been so cautious around him ever since this whole charade started..

Far from his own merit, it had been Hinata’s all along.

Your sister has been haunting the L/N estate like some kind of yurei from the very moment she’d returned to the estate after visiting the Zen’in.

A spirit that radiated vengeance with each step she took, no one was free of the her antagonizing glances, to the point that even the staff that was closest to her, those who were more likely to carry guilt-free consciences, began to set a healthy amount of distance to avoid being in the receiving end of her ire, and subsequently, him.

Because what one sibling did, the other often replicated.

It was never in Hinata’s intentions to blame the innocent members of her clan, unfortunately, she no longer found herself in a position where she could trust anybody outside of those present in the room. Not even Eiichi, your father, was part of that leniency.

And with good reason—with all things accounted, he was perhaps the guiltiest of them all. The one that allowed everything to happen in the first place, the one that signed the wedding certificate as a witness and pushed you into the wretched claws of that disgusting family, giving a congratulatory cheer while at it.

His actions are what incited her the most to obtain the determination she needed to save you, the one she used as fuel to search every inch, nook and cranny around the estate for anything that could serve her purpose from those that failed you: the smallest slip-up when doing their chores, a stammer while in a casual conversation, a drop of sweat sliding down their temples as they sat for tea, or the lightest twitch from their fingers as they killed time with a senseless game, regardless of its reasoning, anything that might indicate the slightest semblance of a guilty conscience, and exploit it against them.

But just as it was stated, a clan as old as your family doesn’t get to survive for that long without having gone through immeasurable amounts of shady businesses in order to ensure its existence in the future, and subsequently, had long stopped caring for the morality behind it the more they performed so.

Your siblings just wished some of them had grown overconfident enough to become sloppy in their actions—but it seems that not even that was to be on their advantage.

“Not intimidating enough to get them talking” Hinata scoffs, and Sumire scrunches her face out of anguish.

“I… wish to say that in time you’ll find what you need but… I fear that Y/N-chan might not have that much time” Sumire whimpered and Hinata pressed her eyebrows. Neither wanted to admit it, but she was right. There was only so much time before things began to worsen to the point she would no longer be able to save you.

The wrong pregnancy is quick to flash across her mind’s eye, before shaking it off and going back to comforting your frightened friend.

“There’s no use in fretting, Sumire” Hinata eases, giving her a smile that would not only help her cool down, but her as well. “They might not offer much, but I already got a lead somewhere else. Besides, as long as we keep trying, we’re getting closer to bringing her back”

“I guess so…” Sumire responded dejectedly with a sigh. “Will you… go to Kyoto then?”

“I have no other option—it’s the long route, sure, but I still have faith that it’ll give me what I need”

“Then I’ll support it” Ren adds. “I’m not too keen with you getting so close to the lion’s den, but at the same time, I don’t think you’ll find much without getting near them”

“I know… and as much as I would’ve preferred to get my information somewhere else, I don’t really have that many leads to follow”

“Does it worry you that they might have some undercover agent to inform them about anyone snooping in on their records?” Sumire frets, and a wave of uneasiness she thought quenched returns to wash over Hinata.

She had already considered all possible outcomes while making her way back to the estate after Satoru suggested such an idea: from witnesses unwilling to speak, to whistleblowers informing of her actions towards those she is digging dirt on, these were all things that could happen if fate decided to play that way.

However, even with the prospect of facing the devious nature of various individuals working against her, she was comforted by her belief in the genuineness and fairness of the jujutsu system when it came to neutrality amongst sorcerers.

All the information regarding to a sorcerers activities, such as license number, active missions, completed missions, and if they’re active or not, was available for public record; in other words, she would be available to essentially waltz into the school, request Naoya’s information, and get what she needs out of it without any repercussions.

This was already in the works, even way before Geto catapulted this ongoing crisis.

It was a solution to promote transparency between members of the community, and a way to dissolve unethical practices between fellow members and civilians to wash the blood that plagued their history, all while in agreement to their service to the community.

That he had been the final push to enact this change was another story.

Thus, Hinata didn’t concern herself too much when it came to the Zen’in having someone under cover to alert them of a possible onlooker—they couldn’t just go and tell people they were investigated on, because that could incite some form of retribution and that would go against the same ethics of neutrality and safety the jujutsu community was slowly trying to adopt, or at least to court.

In other words, there was nothing to worry about.

“I have thought about it” Hinata affirms. “But if anything, I’m more concerned about not finding anything to help Y/N… but that’s a risk I’m willing to take”

“The Zen’in might have an idea that you’re trying to do something anyways” Ren ponders, justifying his sister’s somewhat… reckless idea, at least in his point of view, and she agrees with a nod. “So it’s pointless to waste energy on something that’s probably already happening”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I sure hope they know I’m keeping a close eye on them, maybe that way they’ll know not to mess up with me and my family! They better be sleeping with an eye open…” Hinata threatens and Ren can’t help but smile at her somber resolve.

“I’m pretty sure some of the people here already do so” Ren snickers and Hinata rolls her eyes once more before chuckling. “That’s why I know you’ll be fine when you’re out there in Kyoto doing what you have to do”

“Thank you” Hinata smiles, and the cold wave of uneasiness is soon washed away by a warm wave of support from his brother. One she always knew she could get from him… regardless of the situation. “Then… if there’s nothing more to add… I think that’s all we have to say”

“Let me take you to your room, you need to rest” Ren suggests as he stands up, followed by helping Sumire stand up by offering his hand for her to take. Your sister initially wanted to reproach his suggestion, but before she’s able to do much as opening her mouth, he interjects. “I can see it in your tired eyes you haven’t been getting any sleep, have you?”

“Can you blame me? All I think of is my sister, even when I close my eyes, all I see is Y/N and those…. Disgusting bruises on her body”

Ren goes eerily silent, but his mind is nothing but a turmoil on the inside.

He’s been holding back the urge to storm his way out of the estate and onto the Zen’in’s and beat the shit out of Naoya just by the clench of his fists and the gritting of his teeth.

Your brother was equally disgusted, if not more so than your sister, upon knowing of her findings at the Zen’in estate that one day she was deceitfully invited to their premises.

It had taken all of him to stand on the sidelines and let Hinata do what she needed to do in order to ensure your safe return—but if that weren’t a problem, you can bet that Ren would’ve destroyed the whole Zen’in estate long ago.

But he couldn’t. And not because he didn’t want to, or lacked the physical force to do so. If anything, he had enough strength to spare (and with countless missions to attest to that) but he couldn’t just do what he impulsively wanted—any miscalculation could eventually lead you to be further secluded from their life, as well as spoil Hinata’s progress, and they were already having a tough time as it is…

His patience and tolerance was being undeniably tested, but for now, he’ll keep quiet, silently supporting his sister from afar, playing the role of obedient, responsible sorcerer by completing the load of dangerous missions HQ seems to be dumping on him day after day, almost as if they knew your siblings were trying to do something under the table, while keeping a close eye on the inside to ensure the secrecy and accomplishment of this difficult yet essential rescue mission.

“I know this may not be of much consolation but…” Sumire’s soft voice cuts through the tense silence, forcing Hinata’s and Ren’s eyes to land on her as she slides the shoji door open, stepping aside to invite your siblings to go first.

Ren shakes his head, suggesting she go ahead first, to which she complies without putting up much of a fight.

“I like to think that Y/N-chan is well. After all, bad news are often the first ones to circulate and if something… bad … had already happened to her, we would’ve known by now”

Hinata is appreciative of the fact that even with all the shit you and your family were suddenly dumped with when the Zen’in became intertwined in their lives, there was still someone they knew you could trust in, someone that kept a positive outlook in this somber testament.

And she smiles.

“It’s… very comforting, actually” Hinata says as the group begins to make their way towards the living quarters, her room in mind. “Even with all the things that have been happening to her… I always try to reassure myself by keeping hope, thinking that this could definitely be infinitely worse… although I sometimes believe that we’re already past that point”

“Try not to think about that, Hinata” Ren responds, gently palming her back “try to get some rest, catch on those shows you paused, or visit the stables—it’s been a while since someone visited the horses, I’m sure they would appreciate a familiar face around. You’ve already done what you could today, take it easy”

“I know… I know” Hinata sighs, a pout eventually pursing her lips as she crosses her arms before looking up to him “However, there’s one this one last thing that I need to check with Sumire before I can do all that” your sisters then turns over to your best friend, and the young woman, caught by surprise by her sudden exposure to the spotlight, can’t do much by stare back at her as her mind tries to find out the small detail she might’ve forgotten to bring up during their previous conversation “My correspondence ”

“ Oh, yes!” Sumire gasps, thoughts taking her back to her private quarters and onto the small box she specifically set aside to keep Hinata’s letters away and secure from the prying eyes of the rest of the staff members who have yet to prove their trustworthiness, until she returns.

Just to show that she didn’t forget about this, she was just… too enthralled on getting news on Y/N��s rescue, that she didn’t deem it necessary to bring it up right then and there… or maybe it did slip up her mind. Stress can often do that.

“I just want you to know I didn’t forget them, I was just… waiting for the right moment!” Sumire blurted as she began to head towards her bedroom, an explanation which Hinata dismissed as nothing to worry that much while mouthing a quiet it’s ok “Wait for me in your room, I’ll bring them to you!”

And with the swift work of her feet, Sumire moved on to scurry onto the general direction of the staff’s quarters, the sound of her footsteps beginning to subside into thin air as Hinata and Ren continued walking towards the former’s room.

It was a silent trip up to the arrival of the familiar bedroom door, one which remained decorated with the sunflower stickers across the frame she placed on long ago when she was nothing more than a child, keeping them simply for nostalgia’s sake.

Without a second to waste, Hinata gently takes hold of the door and slides it open, the sight of a tidy and organized room welcoming her back.

Everything seemed to be in place, completely different to how she left it before she left—one might even think she never left at all. Which was a gross understatement, for as of recent events, she’s only been able to stay at her house for short instances, simply returning to check on her family and any important announcements from work.

Taking this into consideration, any returning resident would’ve found relief in not having to worry about cleaning their room, being able to simply go ahead and change into more comfortable clothes before jumping into bed and call it a day.

However, the diligent work of her staff was not to give her the peace and tranquility Ren hoped she would achieve, more so when her serious face began to contort into one of uneasy eyes and furrowed brow once in the solace of each other's company: giving him the impression that there was something else she had yet to discuss with anyone else outside the inner voice in her head, and so, he’s prompted to talk.

“There’s something else bothering you, isn’t it?” Ren guesses, and Hinata, understanding she’s been read like an open book, relents with a sigh.

“Yes… it’s… perhaps the thing that disturbed me the most” she confides, pinching the spot just between her eyebrows to alleviate the pain she feels to be the beginning of a migraine from worsening, serving as an example of how disquieting this tormenting thought was.

“I’m all ears” he says as he gestures to her inside the room, closing the door behind him once both inside.

“You… you’re probably going to think it’s something stupid, after all, it came from Satoru but… I don’t know, it rubbed me the wrong way anyways” she goes on as she takes another seat on his futon, this time, completing laying her body back onto it and focusing on nothing more than the wooden ceiling.

“Well then, it’s very rare for you to not be able to brush off something the idiot Satoru said” Ren raises an eyebrow while mentally prepares himself to lose some brain cells at whatever additional stupidity he concocted that day as he joins his sister’s side—completely oblivious of the shock he’s about to receive. “What did he say?”

“…What if the reason I can’t bring Y/N back home is…. Because… she doesn’t want to?” she whispers, as if the words were heavy, impossible for her to pronounce, or more like she didn’t want to voice them out loud, because by doing so it meant she had to relieve her disbelief yet again.

“I don’t follow” Or more like he doesn't want to follow, because why would he want to think of the worst possible scenario becoming a reality when it comes to saving their sister? And such skepticism is what immediately leads him to frown and snap his gaze down onto his sister.

He’s hoping to find any kind of indication that might signal this as a joke of bad taste, but all that he can find is nothing more than a shade of fright Hinata never allows anyone to see but the closest to her.

“…Because she wants to stay with Naoya?” Hinata is pushed by Ren’s intense stare to continue, but before she’s able to add anything more, Ren speaks.

“I hope you’re joking” the oldest of the L/N sibling’s spats, but Hinata’s silent rebuttal, as well as the flicker of her gaze back to the ceiling, proved him otherwise. “I seriously hope he didn’t just fucking imply that”

“He did. I’m telling you it’s something stupid, usual silliness from him, but… even if I think of it that way, I just can’t help but to wonder… what if?” Hinata frets “What if Y/N and Naoya somehow get to know each other better and she… she decides she doesn’t want to be here anymore? I’m already damn sure my visit was just a ruse to cover his ass, but what if… what if the next time I see her it’s not a ruse anymore? What if she means it?”

“When did you start doubting our sister, Hinata?” Ren asks, and Hinata is suddenly invaded by the sensation that her words have been a… Well, a gross misconception. And a grosser stupidity for implying such a thing for seemingly no reason.

“I… never have… I just… well, he made… a point that I hoped wouldn’t come true, that’s all. Because if it did… I don’t know what I’ll do” she shuddered.

But her worries didn’t come from doubting you, no. Far from it. She knew you too well to ever think of this becoming a reality.

They came from her own uncertainty.

She’d always been the one to come to the rescue of everyone that needed it, the one that everyone knew they could rely on if there’s something to be done.

There had never been a moment where Hinata couldn’t overcome an obstacle in the past. She always knew what to do, what to say, and that led her to be the figure of guidance and protection that others always expected her to be.

But on the occasion that she finds herself needing help, and struggling to find so… It led her to doubt her ability to comply with the expectations of everyone around her, as well as her own abilities.

Hinata always exhorted assistance with an unparalleled talent, regardless of the level of graveness, or if she even knew the person or not.

So… why can’t she do the same with her own sister?

Perhaps her mind granted far more credibility to this thought than what it actually needed in an excuse to ease some of her tensions, because if that was the case, then Hinata could easily say there was nothing else to—

“That won’t happen” Ren reassures her upon sensing the mental gymnastics happening inside her mind.

But Hinata, far from feeling reassured by his words and too deep into her own despair, can’t help but inwardly dispute on how he could know so confidently.

And as if he was able to read minds, although it was more of being attentive to the right cues, he continues “Because there is no way she’d ever care for someone as wretched as Naoya—she either lost her mind, or Naoya did. And I’m leaning towards none”

Hinata remains quiet, analyzing his words for a few seconds before releasing a sigh.

“…If you put it that way… I guess you’re right, Ren” Hinata eventually relented, her moment to now look up at him.

His gaze remained fixed on her, as if to show how attentively he was listening to all that she had to say, however, even with the stern look on his eyes, seemingly offended by Satoru’s suggestion, Hinata was still able to uncover an underlying emotion behind them: something… likened to pain and irritation.

Pain, for the mere thought of you being away from them through your own volition was enough to induce him into disgust—because he knew, deep inside him, that could never come to reality, at least consensually. It entailed another layer of inscrutability he doesn’t dare to explore for his sanity’s sake.

And on that note, we pass onto irritation .

Far from being irritated at Hinata for bringing up the sentence that silently tormented her, these feelings were directed towards Satoru. He was used to his frequent occasional stupidity, but this was just on a whole ‘nother level, leading him to admit that perhaps his life could’ve done better without knowing this.

Yet, this was to remain a secret between his conscience and himself, not wanting his sister to feel any more responsible than she already did.

“Don’t worry about anything anymore—you’ve done enough, if you keep stressing about it you’ll just waste your energy” Ren says, attempting to move onto a different, less sour topic of conversation, because who wants to think of their younger sister staying in the horror house of their common enemy? While consoling her hard work. Oh, how he wishes he could take all of her responsibilities so as to make her workload easier to manage… “I can read your correspondence if you’d like, and give you the rundown after you’ve gotten some rest. I can also let the servants know not to disturb you and to prepare your meal later”

“Ah, you don’t have to do that Ren” she shakes her head, shifting to her side to take a better look at him, using her arms as support for her head. “I thank you for your attention, but… well, I’d like to indulge in these small things I missed while away, get the whole home experience, you know? Besides, I already know what’s awaiting me on those letters, probably a thousand more missions so I don’t really mind getting them myself” she groans.

“Hinata-san!” A voice calling from the other side of the door interrupts their conversation, followed by a set of gentle knocks. Neither of the siblings need to inquire any further to rightfully assume it’s Sumire.

“Talking about the devil…” Ren chuckles as he sits down, now glancing at the door. “Come in!”

The door is swiftly open, and an exasperated Sumire steps into the picture—seems like the poor girl can never catch a break.

“I got them, here they are…” She breathes, making her way towards your sister, who also sat down to appropriately receive her correspondence through a small wooden box. “All of your letters—up to today! I didn’t open any of them, I just arranged them by sender”

“Thank you, Sumire” Hinata smiles as she takes the bundle from her hands and lifts the cover, her smile dropping once realizing the incalculable number of letters inside it—she doesn’t believe she’s been out of her home for that long, but the items before her dare to prove otherwise.

Well, such trivialities are bound to happen during an ongoing crisis… considering that she was also the heiress of a somewhat important clan, with a talent that many described as primordial for the smooth development and safety of the jujutsu community.

With that in mind, Hinata mitigates her shocked through as she begins to go through each and every envelope, setting aside those she thought important, urgent, and finally, those that were nothing more than junk—the vast majority coming from some newsletter she wasn’t aware she subscribed to, presumably when she finally got the courage to shop online.

She doesn’t even have that much time to spend on your rescue, what made them think she had time to go through the season’s specials?

Outside of that, everything else was just as she anticipated: nothing more than a bunch of newly assigned missions and announcements from jujutsu HQ regarding the current situation.

However, one of them holds a heavier weight than the others judging by the confidential label on the envelope, and it’s only when she reads it’s contents that her stomach drops: she’s to be an examiner on the upcoming grade 1 exam that’s to be hosted in the Tokyo school.

If her recently added missions weren’t a bid enough of a delay to her much needed trip to Kyoto, this would certainly be. It truly could not have come at a worse time.

Hinata holds back her newfound frustration as she continues through the rest of her correspondence, which is somewhat pacified, that is, upon noticing she was approaching the final letters.

She doesn't know where this thought came from, considering it had been proven useless time and time again to even consider this futile circumstance, but whether for her own reassurance, or simple curiosity, there’s something inside her that tells her to take a chance: even if there’s a slight, almost non-existent possibility of this coming out as positive, it does not hurt to ask the question that kept her hopeful throughout this moment.

“…Has there been… anything… from my sister?” Hinata cautiously pondered before looking back at Sumire’s mournful eyes.

Her gaze flickered from the letters on your sister’s hands, to her gaze, before squeezing a quick glance towards Ren —who replicated the same expectant worry on his dark eyes— before ending on your sister’s letters again.

Her reaction gave the understanding that she was hoping a letter of your writing would magically appear before them… as to avoid the shame of admitting to what Hinata already figured out just by the look on her face.

So, to not keep toying with their feelings, Sumire eventually relegates herself to voice out the dreaded answer.

“No” She reveals as she lowers her head. Her voice is quiet, but regretful, almost as if she felt responsible for your seeming lack of communication, hating that she was to be the one to deliver the terrible news. “…Nothing from her part yet”

“Are you sure?” Hinata is quick to counter. Her mind isn’t too keen on letting this idea go that easily… not when she knew you weren’t one to give up so easily… and there were yet scenarios to go through.

Her family had proven countless times before to have a hidden agenda: they could’ve easily interjected any signs of communication between the two families just to ensure the perpetuation of this marriage.

Fortunately, Sumire was already two steps ahead and had prepared herself accordingly to avoid this situation, such as being the first person the mailman was to see when delivering packages to the estate.

Unfortunately… your absence wasn’t to be the work of your family’s or your husband’s clan. All evidence pointing to the simple fact that you… just haven't been writing to your family.

“Yes… I’m sure” Sumire reaffirms and your sibling’s heart stings with pain and disappointment.

“I see… thank you” is all that Hinata says before placing her letters away on a nearby table, deciding to go through the details of her temporary role as examiner on another occasion. “That’s all from me… I guess”

“Sleep for now” Ren says as he now makes his way to the door.

Sumire, regretfully understanding that her presence was no longer necessary bows before the two and makes her way out the room, retreating onto her next responsibilities just in time before the staff notices her lengthy absence. “…I’m sure Y/N has done whatever she can to let you know she’s ok. Besides, there’s been a rising number of cases regarding mail theft, remember? Even our nearest post office reported a incident, so that might be it”

“Wish letters from HQ would get lost…” Hinata scowls “Why does my sister’s mail need to get lost or stolen?”

“Let’s just assume they have a better private service—while Y/N doesn’t… as well as having an entire family against her”

“I know I shouldn't feel this way, but…” your sister grumbles, looking away from your brother. “I just…”

“Do you feel she hasn’t attempted to contact you at all?”

“…Maybe. I don’t know—I know Sumire is trying hard to keep up with the staff here too, and Y/N’s situation isn’t any better, but… I just can’t shake this frustration inside me, that no matter what we do, there’s always someone out there outsmarting us”

“There might be, there’s always a possibility. But I assure you that she and I have been doing our best to keep our movements concealed, so you have nothing to worry about that” he says, gently placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to his chest whilst resting his chin on her head “And I’m sure Y/N has done whatever she can to let you know she’s fine. Don’t worry about it, little sister. Rest for now, you’ve done all that you could”

“…Thank you” she smiles, turning to his direction and wrapping her arms around him for an embrace. She keeps there, allowing herself to be comforted by the warmth and care she feels as nothing but necessary to keep surviving; remembering that the last time they hugged was during your wedding, just before you left for your honeymoon.

Thus, a long time coming, yet bittersweet, gesture.

She eventually pulls away from him. Ren gently patted her head and bid her a good rest, as well as a reminder of his availability if she needed anything, before making his way out of her room.

Hinata sees him off, only receding back inside after he disappears around the corner.

Once alone, she promptly changes out of her clothes— your sweater— neatly folding them and placing them onto the nearby table before reaching into her closet for a more comfortable attire to rest in, finally throwing herself over the futon after doing so.

Hinata doesn’t even bother to go under the covers to go to sleep. She’s too tired, too beaten up to do anything else than indulge in the few moments of silence she’s been provided with after a long day out in the city.

And silence was to be an understatement, for her mind was all but quiet in these moments. You were running through her mind every second of the day—whenever she was eating, working, resting, or doing absolutely nothing , her mind always brought her back to you, wondering… if you were ok, if you were safe .

If you were even able to enjoy anything anymore at the lion’s den. Making her realize that even with all the built up stress she was carrying, it was nothing compared to your position.

But like all things in life, your presence in her mind's eye eventually tires her out, and in the middle of reaching out for a quick distraction via the book she had abandoned in favor of her work, she falls asleep.

Hinata gets roughly around… 2 hours of sleep before she’s woken up by the uncomfortable pain of her sore throat and the void of the stomach aching to get something to eat…

As well as the thundering sound of her heart beating against her chest, followed by a thin layer of sweat coating her skin.

The first two occurrences didn’t bother her much for the following reasons: instead of taking up on one of the many invitations from the servants to get a refreshment of a snack, she went straight to bed. Thus, it was only a matter of hours before her body began to cry for sustenance.

It’s the latter that she can’t wrap her head around.

Was it a nightmare? Maybe. Hinata has never been one to sleepwalk, or remember what she dreamt of soon after waking up, so she couldn’t even fathom what it was that had her so distressed.

However, judging by the amount of pressure that she’d subjected her body to these past few days, she doesn't need to go any further to assume it had been your situation that had her in shackles.

Hinata sighs.

She tries not to think much of it, keep her head cool—but as it was stated before, your visage had seemed to haunt her ever since you were stripped away from your home, tormented as she remembers that by each passing day, your suffering only worsens.

«At least I didn’t wake up with a headache» Hinata consoles as she begins to take deep breaths, exercises to calm down her tense heart.

Once she feels herself to be in a better condition, she glances over to the window to get an idea of the time.

It’s already dark at this early hour, as expected of the season. As well as unreasonably cold, reminded by the shiver traversing her spine after a gust of wind makes its way through the window.

Hinata silently regrets and berates herself for not lying underneath the covers from the very beginning as she proceeds to sit herself up—it had been highly responsible of her to do such a thing, no matter how desperate she was to lay down and sleep, she shouldn’t risk getting sick, because that would only her work, although she could use it as an excuse to avoid being an examiner….

No, that’s not right. So, determined to stop this foolishness before it worsens any better, she decides to take care of body’s needs.

Her body, having remained in the same position for far too long, ached to be given that refreshing stretch before moving onto her new goal—with her admitting that she was also looking forward to it.

But before she’s able to do as much as push herself up from the futon, a sharp sensation strikes her lower back, prompting a hiss from her while anchoring her on the post.

A reminder that even if she “slept” she didn’t necessarily rest .

Just to show, yet again, that peace wasn’t something that she’s going to achieve whilst in her home… or everywhere else for that matter.

This doesn’t sway her to stay back in bed though, and instead, Hinata simply waits for the pain to dissipate before finally getting up from her bed and making way towards the window and shutting it.

Once that’s done, she heads over to her closet and reaches out for another hoodie to prevent more shivers from disturbing her, just as they did as she received another gust of wind whilst closing the window.

But even with this extra layer, she finds herself seeking more warmth, thus, she makes a mental note of bringing an additional blanket after returning from getting something to drink and a snack.

Nostalgia suddenly hits her as the topic of blankets is brought up—it might be silly, annoying even, but not for those with a broken heart.

It’s not her fault, she couldn’t help it: blankets have essentially become a symbol of your persona and that’s all she could think of right now.

For as long as she could remember, you always had the tendency of running cold at night: your hands and feet freezing even underneath the covers—even alongside layers and layers of clothing—which you might’ve mischievously used as weapons against her and your brother in the limited occasions you had to share a bed with them…

Such was your animosity towards winter, that you’d rather be weighed down in place over your own futon than to suffer the slightest of shivers throughout the night.

Some even judged the way you often wrapped yourself with a blanket, dressed up with hoodies over hoodies, and basically hung around the estate like that for the rest of the day—instead of just wearing something warmer.

Well, you didn’t care, if others were willing to suffer throughout the winter just so they wouldn’t be labeled as silly , then so be it. As long as you had your thousands of blankets and garments to accompany you, you’d be happy.

Hinata chuckles at the silliness of the memory, before her face suddenly drops.

There is no way for her to understand the kind of care that goes on inside the Zen’in estate, but she hopes that Naoya is at least decent enough to keep you warm and prepared for the upcoming winter, the one that’s yet to be the coldest one yet according to some forecasts.

That’s the bare minimum he could do as your husband : keep his wife well attended throughout her stay there… or was that too much for the heir of the prestigious Zen’in clan?

And unexpectedly, it's at this moment when she realizes this is going to be the first holiday they’re not going to spend without you…

Even when you were quarantined away at school in Tokyo, she still found a way to keep contact with you and your family…

But this time… she’s not so sure she can achieve so.

There are many things to consider, so many things invading her mind at the same time, that she doesn’t even know where to start: she needs to act fast, she needs to take the right steps to ensure that you’ll be back before Christmas is here, she needs to protect her family is the Zen’in truly did something as abhorrent as his father implied…

But she doesn’t know how.

She’s so unsure, so… indecisive.

Hinata feels like she’s drowning in her own thoughts, without being able to turn to someone for help and pull her away from the waves that seem to be pushing her deeper and deeper into the void of her worries.

How was she expected to do anything when she feels like she doesn’t know what’s going on? As if she were nothing more than a child?

And with that realization, her mind finds clarity.

If Hinata felt like a child, then the only way to get out of this predicament is to approach it with a similar mentality.

And what would a child usually do in the situations where they feel lost?

Reach out for their parents.

Thus, your sister decides to do what has always helped her when she needed guidance: visit her father.

Once Hinata changes into something far warmer, she exits through the bedroom door and makes way deeper through the living quarters and onto her parent’s bedroom—now Eiichi’s room.

For as long as she could remember, Eiichi had always been an attentive and caring father when it comes to supporting his children; however, this type of bond seemed to be a bit stronger with her, since they could relate more to one another as leader and heiress of the clan respectively.

He’s always been her go-to person when she faces uncertainty in her life, and he always tries to be there for her, whether for personal or professional matters, it holds no relevance to him, as long as he’s able to help.

But then, when your mother, Minako, passed away… something inside him changed and he began to distance himself from everyone.

Perhaps there was a chance of reconciliation: in fact, many would’ve thought that your situation was to bring your family closer…

Unfortunately, this only served to further rupture whatever relationship was left, more so when it was known that he’d been somewhat of a willing player in this scheme—to make matters worse, he always doted on you the most… which only made his betrayal ever more heart wrenching.

But even after all that happened, all the pain her family had been inflicted with, Eiichi is still their father, and she still loved him.

So as Hinata stands before his door, she mentally prepares herself to push their differences aside for a moment, and just… be there for one another.

“Who is it?” She hears Eiichi call from the other side upon hearing the soft knock on his door.

“It’s me” Hinata responds, and she hears a soft gasp coming from inside of the room as well as a shuffle she was quick to identify as someone scurrying to pick himself up. Footsteps make way towards her direction before the door finally slides wide open, revealing the sight of a somewhat distraught father, but relatively healthy.

“Hinata!” Eiichi gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stares at the heartwarming sight of his eldest daughter back home “You’re… you’re back! I’m so glad to see you!”

“I am” she says, and judging by his reaction, she can only assume that either the servants didn’t bother to inform him of his return, or he had, and forgot about it because he’d been drinking.

She would have informed him so personally… but too enthralled in having an urgent conversation with her brother and your best friend, and yet to deal with the inner turmoil she had towards her father… lead her to decide against it.

Whatever the reason, Hinata still hopes that he hasn't been indulging in alcohol anymore.

For his sake, she really hopes that wasn’t the case…

However, one quick sniff as well as a scan throughout what little floor she could see through the gap in his door, is all that it takes for her to realize that he’s been sober at least for today.

God knows what he’s been doing to keep his demons at bay, but she can at least rest knowing it wasn’t through alcohol.

“Are you… cold?” Eiichi asks, his tremulous voice snapping her back to reality as well as filling the awkward void of silence that had begun to grow between the two.

There's the slightest hesitation on his part on approaching your sister and hugging her, but after catching the brief glance she made into her bedroom, he’s given the understanding that he’s still not in her good graces, and decides against it.

Completely unaware that perhaps… this would’ve been just what they needed to finally make amends.

“Have you eaten already? If not, I can make something—”

“A bit, but I’m fine for now” she responds. Her hunger, thirst and cold had magically disappeared once she decided she needed to see her dad first. Or more like she couldn’t focus on anything else until she completes this small detour and receives some peace of mind. “I just… wanted to see you first”

“…O—oh… I see” he blinks before stepping aside and gesturing with his head “…Want to come in?”

“Yeah, thank you” Hinata nods and walks into the room. She didn’t intend to judge him anymore than she already did moments prior, but due to a past experience, her eyes, yet again, darted to take another quick scan of her surroundings.

The first thing to notice is the absence of bottles of alcohol—she was first able to assume so due to her past approach, nonetheless, she soon remembered that their father had sneakily brought in bottles to his room and attempted to hide them whenever one of them visited him, so it was only natural that her mind urged her to double check.

Fortunately, she was proven wrong. And she was glad that she was wrong. However, when it isn’t one thing to worry her, it’s another, and Hinata finds that in the lack of overall organization in his room.

One would think that this room had been essentially abandoned by the staff members, but that’s nothing more than a fallacy for she knows that they would never dare to not do their job when it comes to tending the master of the clan.

Instead, she assumed that this had been nothing more than his own doing.

His futon was undone, covers roughly tossed over the mattress while the pillow laid feet away from its usual position. From there, all kinds of garments were to be found scattered all over the room: from pants, yukatas, socks…. on the floor, on the nearby table, on the bed, and ironically, just outside the closet… it had been a surprise they hadn't found their way to the ceiling yet.

However none of these things worried her as much as the following did.

Secluded from the previously detailed cluster, and just beside his bed, alongside a few books, rests a small vinyl record player, with countless vinyl albums, CD’s to accompany it… and a photo album.

Items that after a quick second of glancing over them, she eventually recognized as items previously sorted as missing… memoirs from her beloved mother.

And it doesn’t take any longer from there for Hinata to deduce what has kept him occupied ever since he abandoned drinking: He’s drowning his demons, not with alcohol, but rather, with the nostalgia and pain of when things were right.

In any other occasion, this sight would’ve also brought her the emotions she imagines her father to be experiencing, as well as the urge to take a break and sit down to look back on the things she missed from when her mother was still alive.

But there’s something about observing these items in his room that… confuses her, disturbs her… if not angers her.

It almost seems that their father was… running away from his reality, from facing the repercussions of his actions, in favor of plunging into the safeness the memory of his wife provided… and they’ve been deprived of it for selfish reasons.

Hinata then feels he is undeserving of even being near these things, for after all that he’d committed against them, robbing them of their mother’s items to keep for himself, and subsequently betraying you, he’d only be defiling what they represented….

And the necessity of his counseling begins to slowly drift away as an old wound reopens.

Upon noticing the heavy shift on the air, alongside his daughter’s glued gaze on his wife’s property, Eiichi could assume Hinata was wondering why these items were there in the first place.

He’s never been one to fret about the inquiries about his children… at least not to this level, but the passion that seems to be etched on her face is enough to grow nervous, anxiously prompting him to offer an explanation.

“I was just… taking care of them, removing the dirt that has begun to settle on them” he says, fidgeting with his hands as his eyes remain fixed on said items. “and… remembering your mother. But don’t worry about that, let’s just focus on—”

“Is that all that you’ve been doing?” she says immediately after, head snapping into his direction. The suddenness of her action provoked a flinch from him, as well as the settlement of remorse on the back of his mind. “Have you been doing anything else, at all? ”

If there was any semblance of her wanting to have a normal conversation with him, one that would help her calm down the agitation in her mind and possibly bring them closer once and for all, the incredulity in her voice informs it was long gone.

“I… I’m working…” he stammers on, tensely gathering enough courage to finally confront his daughter’s heavy gaze “I know I don’t have many responsibilities after you started to step up for the role… but there are still some things I have to personally oversee and, well, I’m doing my best with everything that happened”

“Is it?” she scowls “And is there any chance of these things being related to Y/N, hm?” and it’s now that Eiichi feels himself to have been effectively cornered.

His silence, however, far from maintaining a veil of uncertainty, is to be nothing more than confirmation to her assumptions, leading another wave of disbelief to hit her, followed by the mentally scolding of herself for being stupid enough to trust one of the people that essentially sold you to the highest bidder.

“No” he eventually responds, low, almost like a whimper, enough to demonstrate his shame. Perhaps in attempts to gain her empathy, but to an angered Hinata, this is nothing more than a pathetic struggle of victimization “I… I presume you… have?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. In fact, I can’t tell you anything , because you’ve deemed yourself untrustworthy—to think I actually came to you for guidance…” she sneers.

At the additional rupture of the damaged trust Eiichi feels his heart squeeze in pain, a need to patch things between the two arises to the occasion.

“I… I never meant to hurt you, Ren, or your sister!” He cries “You know… you know family is the most important thing to me, above anything else! And I’m always willing to help with whatever I can! But this… this is out of my hands, and you know that. You know I would’ve never done this if there wasn’t any other option!”

“And yet, here we are, with you locked in your room with all of mom’s things, which you’ve deprived us for a long time now, sinking deeper and deeper into this pathetic state, as if you’d been the one wronged, while my sister is out there suffering the most horrible things I don’t even want to think of!” she refutes “All while cowering behind the elders, under the fact that you can’t say anything because whatever accord you made with the Zen’in will be broken instantaneously! As if that were more important than your own goddamn family!”

“That’s not—don’t say that, Hinata!” Eiichi yelps, a guilty conscience prohibiting him from denying or affirming her statement, because deep inside his troubled mind, he knew very well she was telling nothing but the truth.

“Then what?” she dared, “Do you want me to say that everything is fine, that everything was just as you expected it to be—whatever that might be— if not better! And to not worry about it?”

“No, of course not but—”

“I know Ren is far more understanding when it comes to approaching you, and I can even… somewhat forgive what you’d kept away from us regarding mom—but that stops with Y/N.” Hinata breathes, tears now forming in the corner of her eyes. “I…. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re… you’re able to do this, as if nothing ever happened! You’re able to lay in bed while I can’t even close my eyes without seeing her!! Do you even know what I saw that time I went to the estate?! What were Naoya's intentions for that visit all along? The empty promises he made of keeping communication between the two families?! It’s been weeks since I last saw Y/N and I have yet to know anything about her! And I can’t seem to get help from HQ either, because I’m dumped with more and more work each day!”

“I—I didn’t know—I don’t know what to do, Hinata! I want to save her myself but I—”

“You can't” Hinata murmurs hotly. “Because that’s too much , isn’t that right, father ?

…

Eiichi remains quiet, unable to speak as the shame he carries simply for his insignificant presence steals all of his breath away.

“I’m…. I’m sorry ” is all that he can whimper past his trembling lips and the knot in his throat. There are hot tears pooling in his eyes, the vision of his angered daughter becoming blurrier by the second, something that he couldn’t be any more appreciative of for he couldn’t stand the disgrace he’d become to their family, and Minako’s absence.

“No” she shakes her head “I’m not the one you should be sorry to”

“I—I know… once she’s back, once I see Y/N again, I’ll… I’ll get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness. I've done so much wrong to her as her own father , but never more, I—I promise that I’ll make things right—!”

“No, father” Hinata reiterates, and Eiichi blinks, dumbfounded by her unforeseen response.

He expects to be reprimanded for not being active enough in your search, a big coward that doesn’t have the guts to stand up to the elders and do what’s right.

But all of this is nothing compared to what follows next.

If his heart was slowly rupturing with the pain of your absence, her words effectively crushed it.

“It’s mother you should apologize to”

And with that, she leaves.

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x your #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #series: first it hurts—

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lindira · 3 months

Note

Oh, for Envy of course: #'s 3, 16, 17, 20, 21, 30, 40, and 66? I love seeing Envy facts ❤️

Oh, I'm glad you're enjoying my infodumps about Envy! I wasn't sure anyone was reading them. <3 And thanks for the ask!

3. What is your character’s moral alignment?

I'd say Envy falls just barely into Chaotic Good. He's not an altruist, but he generally doesn't want innocent people to get hurt. He has a definite dislike of authority and will protect people from abuses of power whenever he can. But Envy is also prone to flights of fancy and random whims, and may do things that aren't very morally sound if it sounds fun or funny. He mostly thinks "laws are laws only when the Fist are watching". So he strays into Chaotic Neutral territory pretty frequently.

16. Which of the companions does your Tav trust most?

Envy trusts Wyll and Karlach the most, and they're the companions he likes the most outside of Astarion. He knows that they're always trying to do the right thing, and they're incredibly loyal.

17. Which of the companions does your Tav distrust most?

Probably Gale. Envy likes Gale, but his hunger for power is disquieting. He knows Gale wants to do good, but he also sees how power could corrupt Gale very easily. The road to the Hells was paved with good intentions.

20. If you’re romancing anyone, why did your Tav fall for them? And why did that character fall for your Tav?

Envy fell for Astarion because he's funny and smarter than he acts. Despite how Astarion gripes about compassionate acts, Envy sees that when kindness is shown to Astarion, Astarion gives it back. After the level of torture and misery that Cazador inflicts upon his spawn, a lesser man would have had any kindness stripped from him completely. That Astarion has the capacity for it at all is astounding to Envy. For all of Astarion's faults - of which there are many - Envy finds him to be fascinating and remarkable.

Before Envy, most of Astarion's smiles and laughter were performative or tinged with bitterness. But then Envy came along and made him really, truly smile and laugh for the first time in a great many years. Astarion fell for Envy because Envy was the first person to notice how deeply Astarion was hurting and to want to do something about it. Though Envy wasn't strong enough to kill Cazador at the time, he provided solace and comfort to Astarion. Envy fed Astarion and listened to him and felt outrage on his behalf. Envy didn't just offer platitudes - he did things to help. Small things, but important ones nonetheless. All of that was stunning and baffling and SO important to Astarion.

21. If you’re romancing anyone, who fell first and who fell harder?

Envy fell first. A few months after they had met, he was already crazy about Astarion. As soon as Envy found out about what Astarion was going through, he felt so much admiration for how Astarion had survived that he couldn't help but love him.

Astarion was a case of "he fell in love slowly, then all at once". Astarion distrusted Envy's kindness at first, and then didn't want to get attached to anyone because of how Cazador had punished him in the past. But he eventually realized how deeply Envy cared for him, and that he was finally important enough to someone for them to give a damn about his situation. Envy reminded him of the good things life has to offer that Astarion had long since written off as unattainable for him. For Astarion, the very concept of happiness came into existence the day Envy entered his life. It might as well have not existed before then.

30. How does your Tav react when someone insults their friend/partner?

One should assume that Envy is ready to fucking wreck someone verbally at any time. He has lost many jobs because of this. Insults to his friends or to Astarion are worse than insults to himself, and he will tell off and insult the offending party right back. If the person refuses to apologize, Envy is ready to fight them physically, but would prefer making up a scheme to annoy them an equal amount (in Envy's eyes) to how bad the insult was. No one fucks with Astarion or his friends.

40. What is the biggest mistake your Tav ever made?

Envy underestimated Cazador. Astarion had warned him that Cazador was cruel and powerful. He had warned Envy that Cazador had a stranglehold on Astarion. But Envy thought he could trick Cazador and stay safe from him. He was wrong.

66. Does your Tav consider themselves a hero, villain, victim or something else?

Envy might boast about being a hero because he's a bit of an ass and likes showing off with a lot of bravado. But he doesn't actually think of himself as a hero. He doesn't consider himself a villain or a victim either. He really just thinks of himself as a person trying to get by in the world. People will put labels on him as they will, but that's not for him to worry about.

Questions taken from this Baldur's Gate 3 Tav Ask Game!

#envy o'vall #baldur's gate 3 #tav #replies #thanks for asking!

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bafflement · 1 year

Text

Deaged Oz AU - Atlas Hospital Scene Part III

Oz swam back to consciousness slowly, still lying in the comfortable bed he had been in when what he was certain had to have been a dream happened. The room still smelled like all hospitals, but his fingers were clutched around the hilt of his cane, which he knew he hadn't had when he arrived here. Did that mean this was real, then? That they forgave him? Surely not... he'd lied to them. Lied to himself, tried to make the best of an impossible situation and an impossible war. Salem could not be beaten. She could not be defeated, the others hadn't signed up for this. They were just going to get themselves killed. 'Neither did you' a small voice seemed to echo in his head, but he shook it. He was what he needed to be, it was his fault after all. Everything was, hadn't those in the Vale told him that enough times?

How much of what he remembered had been a dream and how much of it reality? Surely he could not truly be the kidnapped Schnee child? They would have found out by now, right? Someone, somewhere, would have checked? The thought of being related to Jaques Schnee in any way, shape or form was deeply disquieting to him. He wasn't used to hating anyone but Salem, but that man certainly made it to the same exclusive little list.

There was a sound as several people filed in. Oscar, James... Winter, Weiss. Qrow! Qrow was here. He'd actually come back, he didn't hate him. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Qrow hated him, ran away again, perhaps? Not that that had worked last time, but there were more places to get lost in Atlas, it would be far easier to hide. He swallowed, bracing himself to be yelled at.

"Oh, Oz..." Qrow sounded sad, noticing how tense he'd become. "You're safe, I promise, okay?"

"Qrow? I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Yeah, pocket sized, so am I. Never should have reacted like that, but the circumstances... it won't happen again. I've said that already, but I'm not sure how much of that you remember. They had you on a lot of the good stuff and I know how much that messes you up."

Oz's head did feel far clearer as he turned to gaze at the others. James and Winter seemed to be staring at each other as though having a silent conversation. James sighed, seeming to have lost the argument.

"We need to talk. Whether you should be or not, your body is currently that of an eleven year old boy and as such you are highly vulnerable."

Oz opened his mouth, about to protest, but James just raised an eyebrow at him.

"None of us want Jaques Schnee to find out that you used to be Winter Schnee, since his marriage to your sister would technically mean that you would fall under his control. None of us are going to allow that. Therefore, you have something of a choice."

"A... choice?" Oz really didn't like the sound of this.

"As to guardian. Myself, or Winter. She has the added benefit of a blood relationship but I could probably protect you better. I assume you don't particularly wish to be seperated from Oscar? He claims you as a brother, after all."

"I don't need a guardian, James. I'm not actually a child."

"Yes, Oz. You are. More, you are incredibly vulnerable at the moment. If Salem or one of her people find out about you, as an unaccompanied eleven year old you would make a prime target. You have, after all, been kidnapped before."

There was a flash of hurt in Oz's eyes and James looked like he regretted the phrasing of his words, but he kept on anyway, voice stern. "I will also be taking temporary custody of Oscar. He has no real Huntsman training and you are far too young to be expected to have any real proficency."

Oz blushed at that, glaring up at James. Winter interrupted.

"It's not that you're not fully capable, uncle. But whether you like it or not, you are currently a child. While you are here, it would be far better for all involved were you to have at least nominal protection."

"Think of it this way. While you are under my care, so is Oscar. Wouldn't you prefer to have him protected?"

"You're starting to sound like you wouldn't protect the pipsqueak if it wasn't for Oz, Jimmy." Qrow's voice carried a warning. "That's not a good look."

"Of course I'd protect Oscar. But like it or not, he's far less important in all this than Ozpin is."

"Oscar. Matters." Oz bit out, his glare icy now.

James sighed. "I never stated that he didn't. I'm not actually that good at this, Oz. I have never been in this situation before. Can you at least agree that keeping you out of Jaques Schnee's hands is by far the best option here?"

"I think if I was forced to be in close contact with him, something regrettable might happen. Probably to him. Okay. What exactly do we need to do? And have you asked Oscar's aunt, yet? She is his guardian, after all."

"Both of ours, technically." Oscar sounded amused. "Or did you forget that... Tip?"

Oz winced. "My question stands."

"Yes, I talked to her. She agrees that you two need the extra protection while you're here. Besides, I have access to a great deal of training scenarios both of you could use. We might even be able to source a better weapon for young Oscar."

Oscar's eyes lit up and Oz sighed. He was likely going to regret this, wasn't he?

Qrow looked briefly regretful. "Sorry I didn't volunteer, pocket sized, but..."

"But it would be highly inappropriate, considering certain other considerations. It is fine, Qrow. That you're here is enough."

Winter stared at the two of them, a look of mild horror on her face as the Lien finally dropped. Weiss looked like she really needed some form of brain bleach at the imagery, though thankfully it seemed to entirely go over Oscar's head.

James filled out the paperwork then and there. He was the temporary guardian of Oscar and Tip Pine less than five minutes later.

Although part of James, too, worried that he may end up regretting this...

#james ironwood in dad mode #he protecc #friendship #brotherhood #winter schnee #james ironwood #ozpin #oscar pine #qrow branwen #guardianship #temporary adoption?#oz is not amused #since he doesn't need protecting #or thinks he doesn't #he smol #tiny cute boy ozpin #cloqwork

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quoteablebooks · 1 year

Text

Genre: Adult, Science Fiction, Novella

Rating: 5 out of 5

Trigger Warning: Cursing, Death, Animal death, Alcohol, Blood

Summary:

Centuries before, robots of Panga gained self-awareness, laid down their tools, wandered, en masse into the wilderness, never to be seen again. They faded into myth and urban legend. Now the life of the tea monk who tells this story is upended by the arrival of a robot, there to honor the old promise of checking in. The robot cannot go back until the question of "what do people need?" is answered. But the answer to that question depends on who you ask, and how. They will need to ask it a lot. Chambers' series asks: in a world where people have what they want, does having more matter?

*Opinions*

This is another book I heard about all over book spaces on social media and everyone who had read it seemed to love it. That always makes me nervous, but as it was described as a hug in book form, I figured that even if it didn’t live up to the hype it would still be an enjoyable read. What I wasn’t expecting for this book to attack my poor burnt-out social worker heart and dive deep into my constant state of existential dread in the most pleasant and disarming way with conversations between a tea monk and a robot. I am not sure if this was a hug in a book, but it did make me feel seen and understood in a way that not a lot of other books have. There is also something oddly comforting about this novella. The story follows Sibling Dex as they decide they want to change professions to a tea monk and leave to see the quiet beauty of nature after living in a large city for years. However, as Sibling Dex travels to the satellite towns and villages listening to people’s troubles and providing them with a comforting cup of tea, their disquiet grows once again and they start looking for something else. As they travel further off the beaten path, they encounter a robot Mosscap, who has been sent to see how humans have fared without AI robots helping with production and manufacturing since they gained sentience. These two become reluctant friends as they go into the wilderness in search of answers to what it means to be alive and have a purpose in the world. . As a social worker, Sibling Dex feelings about knowing their job is helping people and making a difference, but it still not being enough hit a little too close to home. It’s hard to see the impact you have on a person when you only spend a few minutes or hours with them, even when they thank you, and after a while listening to everyone else’s troubles weighs you down incredibly. You wake up tired every morning, everything seems like a chore, and it takes time, therapy, or a break down to realize that you’re problem is that you are burnt out. While those words are never used in the novella, it is clear that SIbling Dex is looking for something more than what is being offered in serving others and having their purpose in life supporting others. To find something that makes them feel alive and not so tired all the time. That is something that I think almost everyone can relate to in at least one area of their life.

I think the thing that makes this novella so comforting is the world that Chambers builds and the overall atmosphere of the story. While Sibling Dex faces some hardships, the world that they inhabit is always beautiful and gives an overall feeling of warmth. From the solar-punk cities to the untamed wilderness, everything is shown as alive and interconnected, and important. Life on this moon was not that different from our own before a climate crisis was stopped by the robots gained sentience and ending the “Factory Age” and it gives a picture of what Earth could be like if we put in the time and effort for things to change. It’s a hopeful future and I think that is something that we all need to think is possible right now. One of the few negatives I have seen about this novella is that some people stated they found the tone preachy. While I can see how some of the monologues don’t sound like normal conversations between friends, one of the individuals in those conversations is Robot so it didn’t bother me much. Also, I think that in these points it’s easy to suspend a bit of disbelief because of what is being said. I am guessing these critics are talking about the end of the novella in the Hermitage, but I didn't find the message of just existing as preachy as much as something that so many people desperately need to hear. Your only purpose is existing, anything else is something you do, not what you are. That is not a concept that is really taught in our capitalist society. While I can see how that might not fit into everyone’s worldview, I think it was presented in a believable way and I didn’t find it preachy at all.

Overall, this is a novella that I am going to recommend to just about anyone who is asking for an upbeat read. The stakes are low, but the message and journey are so enjoyable that I never found myself bored while reading. As Becky Chambers states in the dedication, this novella is for anyone who needs a break. A five-star read.

#5 out of 5 stars #a psalm for the wild built #Becky Chambers #A monk and robot book #Novella #booklr #book review

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15-dogs · 3 years

Text

lovely night |r.b.|

pairing: regulus black x reader

summary: when regulus finds hidden letters from sirius after he’s run away with his girlfriend, you admit to something you never thought you would (hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, forbidden love, no war au)

warnings: blood status stuff, underaged drinking (regulus and reader are 18), idk if this needs to be tagged but reader is a muggle born butler/worker for a pure blood family

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 2.2K

a/n: askjdhs this is my first regulus fic i hope it’s ok we’ll see we’ll see. also!! yes i did draw inspo from lovely night from la la land so the girlfriend sirius ran away with years back is the reader from planetarium so check that out if you want context to the letters!! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you like it!!

***

You only did what you had to to get by. Your muggle parents had thrown you out years ago so you had to find a job to support yourself. In the defense of good character and charity, the Greengrass family took you in as their worker. You stayed with them in the private quarters you shared with the house elves and kept your head down when they threw backhanded insults about your blood status at you. Whatever you could do to get by, you did.

As a reward for being so well-behaved at their home, the family would take you out to private events, fit only for the pureblooded families. Many families would bring their attendants with them, just to prove they were not of ill faith quite yet. You didn’t quite care about those intentions, not when you were too distracted by the glamour of the day.

You did have a very rich fantasy life. As Amalina Greengrass’s seamstress, you got to play with her dresses. And what dresses those were. Long, flowing gowns with pale colors which could make anyone look like royalty.

You used to dream about attending those parties in those dresses, catching the eye of a certain young suitor who was quite skilled at the violin. You imagined walking right past him, like he wouldn’t even recognize you in your fancy clothes, but he would do a double take before running after you, spouting compliments and praise and wondering why in Merlin’s name he hadn’t noticed you that way before.

But Regulus wasn’t like that.

Regulus was your friend, dress or rags. Every party you two were forced to attend, you always ended up sneaking off to chat. Regulus would secure a secluded balcony far off in the mansion from the ballroom while you stole a bottle of firewhiskey from the kitchens. That night was no exception.

Regulus sat on the ground, his legs slotted through the railing and dangling over the garden 30 feet down. He looked so pretty in the moonlight, his sharp features finally softening. It was moments like those you knew Regulus wasn’t as scary as he or his family let on.

Against your instinct to stare in silence, you knocked on the open glass door and pushed past the billowing curtains to reveal yourself. Regulus didn’t turn around. You joined him on the balcony, sliding into the spot next to him as you rested your cheek against the cool metal of the railing.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you teased. Regulus didn’t smile.

Now, with you so close, you could see all the details in his face more clearly. The pain you had mistaken for calm flooded his face and soon washed over you. Your stomach turned with an ache for his wellness.

You knew he wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, not when he was stone cold sober, so you untwisted the cap and sloshed the liquid around before passing it to the boy next to you, deciding he should get the first drink. Regulus winced at how much he slugged back but didn’t falter, continuing to drink until amber liquid spilled down his chin.

“Easy there,” you whispered, cautiously easing the bottle away from his lips. Regulus grunted in discontent before allowing you to pry the bottle away from him, your hands slipping over his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Silence with Regulus wasn’t unusual, but silence when he had something to say was unsettling. He had only completely lost it once, when Sirius moved out and ran off with some girl he met at one of the balls his parents hosted. He did it all with telling his younger brother. And although Regulus spat Sirius’s name with venom he had inherited from his environment, he loved him, and his running away cut so incredibly deep Regulus didn’t know how to control himself.

So really, you could only prepare yourself for the worst.

“It’s a lovely night out,” you began, nudging Regulus with your shoulder. He shrugged. “What a shame it’s just for us.”

Glancing out of the corner of your eye, Regulus frowned. That disquieting look reappeared on his face, although a tad bit more melodramatic than before. Regulus snatched the bottle from you and took a quick swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with reckless abandon, your nerves thrumming.

Regulus finally— finally— turned to look at you, his cheeks reddened in a healthy flush from the alcohol. His shoulder brushed against yours and you looked up, your face nearly colliding with his. Unconsciously, you sucked in a sharp breath and consequently inhaled the scent of the burning liquid off of Regulus’s breath.

“Do you think I’m a good person?”

“Yes,” you answered with no hesitation. He blinked in shock. “Yes, Reg, I think you’re wonderful.”

He sat in silence, studying your face for a tell while you allowed yourself to get lost in his eyes. The moonlight passed over them, giving the deep chocolate brown a plethora of shades and his long lashes cast a nearly invisible shadow which you wouldn’t dare miss.

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus turned his body to unbutton his vest, promptly pulling out a small stack of letters. He dropped them on your thigh with a look of horror before pulling his gaze away.

Before you could ask what they were, Regulus answered you. “They’re letters from Sirius.”

Your eyes bulged. Raising the letter up to your face, you glanced at the contents before shuffling to the next one. “These are all from when he left. Where did you get these?”

“Mum’s dresser. She asked me to get her perfume and I found them in there, hidden.”

Regulus made a limp movement to get the letters back, accidentally slapping them down on the floor between you two. He huffed with frustration as he went to gather them, only picking up a few letters at a time. Regulus ran a hand through his perfectly done hair, freeing it from some of the gel which held it in place.

“She ran away with him, you know,” he began. Regulus looked up, scanning your face for something you couldn’t quite describe. It was deep and introspective, like a man looking at his reflection. “They were so in love they ran away together. I wish I was loved like that.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you and Regulus were. Friends, or something more, you hoped. So that’s why you simply said, “You are.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, staring into them for an explanation. He attempted to peel away as he chuckled softly to himself, making you purse your lips in defiance. “No, no,” he started, waving you off, “I mean, I wish I was loved the way Sirius and his girlfriend love each other.”

“You are.”

The silence hung heavy in the night fog. Although you managed to look calm, your heart felt like it could have beat out of your chest. But you knew, somewhere deep in your heart, you didn’t regret your confession for a second. It needed to be said, so it was. And if he didn’t feel the same you wouldn’t have to go on pretending you and Regulus weren’t friends anymore, it would just become normal.

“(Y/L/N)!” a shrill voice shrieked from the horn in the room behind you. “You are required in the parlor!”

You nodded like the caller could see you, gathering yourself and leaving Regulus alone once more. You didn’t dare look back, too fearful he’d see just how vulnerable you were. Yet, the silence wasn’t much better.

***

Typically, you hated checking the portkeys at the end of the night, making sure there were no more left in case a muggle accidentally took one. However, that night you couldn’t have been happier to offer. You needed the fresh air. You needed to be away from that place. You needed to be away from Regulus. So when you descended into the deep blue night, the last thing you wanted to hear was Regulus calling your name from behind you.

“What are you doing?” he called through heavy breaths as he caught up to you.

“Checking portkeys,” you answered curtly. You took a sharp turn down one street, cutting him off and hoping he’d get the message. But of course he didn’t. Regulus continued to follow you, hands clasped behind his back as he watched you intently. “Stop following me.”

“I would if you were going the right way.”

Your steps faltered. Didn’t you go down this street earlier? No, you were definitely in the wrong place. Huffing, you turned around and tried to maneuver around Regulus but he blocked your way.

“What are you doing?” With a cross of your arms, you looked the boy over for the first time in hours.

“Trying to get you to slow down.” Regulus planted his hands firmly on your shoulders and guided you towards a bench beside you, overlooking the skyline of the city. “Look, (Y/N), just look for one second. Look at how lovely this night is.”

It was unfair how beautiful the lighting made him look. You had to catch yourself before you got too caught up in a lost cause so you directed your attention down towards your aching feet, peeling off the cramped shoes you were forced to wear.

Finally, you decided to look up. Regulus was right: it was a lovely night. But lovely nights were made for loving people, and he had made it clear he wasn’t one of those people. Your mood instantly soured. The more you thought about the situation, the stupider you felt. You were asking Regulus Black, the “Pureblood Prince”, to love you back, a measly muggleborn butler.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”

Regulus’s timid voice broke the silence and sent a sharp pain in your chest. You shook your head. “So, what? You thought taking me to look at the city would soften to blow?”

He perked up at that. “What?”

You scoffed, standing up, shoes in hand and venom in your veins. “I shouldn’t have expected you to say it back. I misread this, and I’ll take the blame for that to spare you. So can we please just drop it?”

Before he could even process what you had said, you were already walking away from him. Regulus scrambled to your side with a flurry of rushed pleas to make you sit and listen to him for just one second.

“You know what’s funny?” you started, a chuckle toying at your lips. Behind you, Regulus had silenced himself. “That I thought this would work out. I mean, come on, we have to take a look at ourselves for a second, Reg. We know who we are. We know our places. And my place is not with you.”

“Merlin, why not?!” Regulus shouted. Anger reverberated through the hollow street and you were near positive you could almost feel it. The corners of his eyes pricked with tears from frustration. You weren’t over him, you knew that, it was too soon, and seeing him in such a distraught state made you sick.

“What?”

Regulus ran his hands over his face with a shaky sigh. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to shout, and especially not at you. You don’t deserve to be shouted at. I just can’t hear about ‘our places’ again.”

Taking cautious steps towards him, you asked, “Again?”

Regulus sunk into a squat and rested against the pavement, evoking a quiet gasp at the cleaning his elves would have to do to his dress pants. “Amalina thought you might fancy me and told my mother. For two bloody weeks she gave me lecture after lecture about how it would be sickening if I even thought about being with someone of your…”

“Oh.” You sunk to his level, relaxing against the emptied street next to him.

“But I realized how much what she says doesn’t matter.”

Your eyes flickered up to his, wide and full of hope. “Reg, do you know what you’re saying?”

Regulus laid on his back, you following suit, staring up at the night sky. He subconsciously took your hand in his and began to trace the constellations against you with his thumb, sending sparks flying through you.

“I do, I promise, I do. When I found those letters from Sirius, everything felt very...obvious to me. I think I might love you.”

Much to your dismay, you inched your hand out of his as you sat up, causing him to turn his head to look in your eyes. “Please don’t say that. I know you miss your brother but pretending you’re him isn’t the way to get him back.”

“I’ll admit, I thought I was doing that, too. Our love is different than theirs— it’s been there all along. And I quite like our love.”

You waited for him to look up at you, searching for the sincerity in his eyes. Regulus smiled sweetly at you, making your stomach flutter and nerves thrum. Laying back down next to him, you once again took his hand.

“What’re we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” The raven haired boy frowned. “But I think I’m prepared for it.”

As you leaned your head on his shoulder you realized lovely nights were made for loving people, and perhaps you were one of them.

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

if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you!!

tags: @aspiringsloth02 @dreamy-clousds @nuttytani-reblogs @anyqueen008 @lunalovecroft @pandaxnienke @for-bebbanburg

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black fluff #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black oneshot #regulus black hurt/comfort #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #forbidden love #sirius black #amalina greengrass #original female character #song fic

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

Noise

It was the ever incredible and wonderful @minky-for-short's birthday yesterday so I wrote her this fic! Thanks for being such a good friend and also for coming up with this brilliant Artist AU for Thanatos and Zagreus!

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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Thanatos wasn’t used to coming home to a quiet house.

When he was younger, he’d always walked in from school or training classes to the racket of a house full of his siblings. There would always be someone yelling, someone arguing, something crashing to the floor, a handful of brothers and sisters sprinting past. And something inside him would sink under the weight of it.

Even for the size of the house of Nyx, there were very few quiet places, driving Than up onto the roof if he actually wanted some peace after a long day. But then there would be Zagreus, on the good days, sitting beside him and telling some story to cheer him up when he could see Than was tired and getting run down. He was there waving his hands in the air, gesturing wildly as he walked across the spine of the rooftop, eyes bright and wild and full. There was all the life and joy inside him bursting out as noise the way, later in life, it would burst out in his art.

Was it any wonder Than had fallen in love with him? He was the only kind of noise that had filled him up rather than worn him down.

And then he’d moved out but you’d really be surprised how much noise Sleep Incarnate could make when it was just the two of you sharing a cramped dorm room. And when your boyfriend was over half the time, bumping his elbows on everything and playing his guitar very badly as you tried to study, making you laugh, or sketching you as you typed an essay and throwing balls of paper at you when you moved and changed the light.

And you’d smile and you’d realise this was the man you were going to marry.

Now they had their brownstone, perfectly placed between Thanatos’ office and Zag’s studio and there was more noise contained in those walls than the mansion and that little dorm room combined. At first it was music, bright, cheesy music blasting as they unpacked all of those boxes and fit their two lives together for good. It was Zag singing in the shower on a morning, it was Than clattering pots and pans as he recreated his favourite recipes of his mothers, pared down for just the two of them. It was Cerberus barking at the birds on the fire escape or whining and kicking in his sleep, sprawled out across the sofa Than had definitely asked he not be allowed on.

And then Theodora happened. When neither of them had been looking, their bright, beautiful baby girl had come into their lives with one green eye and one gold one and all of her daddy’s spark and her papa’s brains and if Than had thought his life was noisy before, he was a fool.

But his life felt fuller than it ever had.

So when Thanatos walked through the door that evening, he immediately froze, overwhelmed with the sensation that something was very wrong. Because his house was silent.

Frowning, he hung his keys on the hook and shrugged out the heavy black coat he’d been sweating in for the last few days of warm weather. He’d had meetings with potential clients all over the place today and it felt like each one had required at least a block’s worth of walking. Of course he could just have taken the heavy thing off, as Zag often suggested, but he didn’t feel quite right without it. But drowning in sweat or not, he’d sold three of his husband's paintings today and he really felt like it warranted at least a welcome home kiss from said husband, followed by his daughter hauling herself onto her wobbly little baby legs, begging him to pick her up. And any other day, he’d have that wall of noise washing over him, loud and comforting and familiar.

So where were they?

The living room was eerily silent too, Theo’s toys lying in boneless patience for the next time she came along to play with them, the radio normally permanently tuned to Zag’s favourite station voiceless. Than frowned, the sense of disquiet getting a firmer grip on him as he passed through into the kitchen. The pots from breakfast were still in the sink, the dregs of Than’s coffee he’d hurriedly downed on the way to his office now ice cold sludge in the bottom of his favourite mug. Normally he’d be coming home to Zag attempting to cook dinner, it was his job to calmly survey the knife edge of disaster it was balancing on and diplomatically extract his husband from the stove so he could turn it into something edible. It was the thought that counted. But there wasn’t so much as a pot of tea brewing, the normally warm and raucous room cold and still.

Than’s frown deepened and he looked for a note, something to explain they’d gone to the store or the park, Zag often scrawled something on the back of an invitation to the latest gallery showing or letter asking for him to submit some work and stuck it onto the fridge. Thanatos had rescued commission requests worth thousands from the front of their fridge before, still valuable even with a request for eggs and milk scribbled on the back.

But he couldn’t see anything. The fridge only held a now week old reassurance that Zag had picked Theo up from his parents’ and taken her to get ice cream. Not much comfort to Thanatos, his heartbeat now increasing significantly.

Zagreus never left him worrying like this, he knew his husband's anxiety was only ever waiting for the slightest little nudge to topple over into overdrive. Hands starting to tremble now, he groped for his phone in his pocket, unsure whether to first dial Zag, his mother or the National Guard.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to work that out because just as he was about to yank his phone free, he heard a noise from behind the back door, something muffled coming from their tiny little walled garden. Laughter. Two kinds of laughter and he knew both of them well.

Relief settling over him, Than tried not to look like he’d been panicking that much as he pushed the door back and walked into the golden late afternoon sunlight. Their little yard wasn’t much, just a square of concrete tiles, but the borders were overflowing with greenery and flowers in sheer defiance to the lack of soil, all thanks to Than’s mother in law. In was in the sparse shades of these towering grasses and flowering vines that Zag and Theo were giggling. They were both grinning the same crooked grin, both pairs of eyes alight with that same joy.

And they were both covered in paint.

“Good evening,” Than found himself smiling too, before he even really knew why, “And what are we up to exactly?”

If Than was still a little miffed at his lack of a welcome home, it was quickly made up for when both his husband and daughter gave unison cries of delight and rushed towards him.

“Than!”

“Papa!”

Than laughed, bracing himself so he wasn’t completely knocked off his feet by their hugs, wrapping his arms around them. He accepted a lingering kiss from Zag before Theo loudly interrupted it with a retching noise, tugging on the bottom of his coat and demanding his attention.

“You gross!” she declared loudly, “Daddies gross!”

“Oh are we now?” Than chuckled, scooping her up and covering her pudgy little face in kisses until she squealed, “Is this gross?”

“No but your shirt might be going that way,” Zag grimaced apologetically, noticing the paint smearing from Theo onto her papa, “Sorry.”

Than glanced down, eyebrows raising, “Ah. And why exactly is my daughter covered in paint? I know a small amount is normal but this rather looks like she’s been rolling in it.”

Zag’s face brightened, “You’re not far off! I had this incredible idea, you see…”

“One that involved an awful lot of mess?” Than’s smile quirked fondly.

“All my best ideas do,” Zag winked over his shoulder before stepping to one side so Than could see the large roll of paper spread out across the ground.

Already it was filled with multicoloured smears and a few handprints, some footprints too, a cacophony of shape and colour. There were a few in different palettes hanging and drying on the back wall in the sun.

“You see, little Teddy’s going to be my new collaborator!” Zag spread his arms grandly over their work, “She starts them off and she can use whatever she feels like, just really moves with the energy of it all, y’know? Then I come in and tie it all together! She’s a phenomenal abstract artist!”

Than looked over the paintings they’d made together. Part of why he was such a good art dealer and such a good agent for Zagreus was that he found more to love in his work than anyone and he was good at making others see it too as he sold it to them. His love for the man spilled into the art, in the shapes and colours and textures he saw the person he’d loved since he was a kid. It was like Zag’s art spoke a language Thanatos was fluent in.

And looking at this art, the art Zag and their daughter had made together, it took his breath away. It was familiar and it was new all at once, it was bright and joyful as the two of them clashed and flowed together in the paint. If he looked long enough he could start to see what was Theo simply having fun splashing around in the colourful stuff she saw her daddy getting to play with all day and what was Zag fondly stitching her marks into something cohesive, something musical and formed.

And in it Thanatos could see his family. He could see noise.

“What do you think?” Zag’s eager smile had started to dim, his eyes getting a little anxious as he searched his husband’s face, tumbling into a nervous ramble, “I will clean her up, I promise, I put her in clothes she doesn’t love love, y’know? I will get the stains out, I swear and I can wash your shirt too if you want? I’ll use the special stuff that works really good, I mean, you might have to show me how but if there’s instructions I’ll just read those...”

Than took a step closer, careful not to damage the painting, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. As it always did, the touch alone was enough to calm Zag, his nervous stumbling coming to a stop, turning into a self conscious smile.

“Zag, it’s beautiful,” Than murmured gently, moving the hand to brush his cheek affectionately. Fortunately, Theo didn’t deem this unacceptably gross, just pressing her face to Than’s neck and nuzzling contentedly, “It’s really, really beautiful.”

Zag beamed, tilting his head hopefully, “Beautiful enough that you wanna help us make another one?”

Than smiled back, already maneuvering Theo so he could shrug out of his work jacket and let it fall to the floor, Theo giggling and squirming with excitement as she helped him push his sleeves up.

“Well, I’m not a phenomenal abstract artist like you two but it does look like fun…”

The works from this new series would go across the country, thanks to Thanatos. He really was a good agent.

They didn’t sell them, Zag didn’t want them to be sold for money after the initial exhibition. Instead they were donated to art schools and children’s hospital wards and after school clubs. But the one that all three of them had done together, the one with the two sets of bigger handprints in varying shades of red and purple and the flurry of tinier ones, the smudges and smears and bright splashes of eye watering colour, that one stayed firmly where it belonged, hanging in their living room. Over time they would take it down and add to it, especially when they had two more sets of tiny handprints to add to it.

And around it, their house would never, ever be quiet.

#hades #thanzag #artist au #modern au #just some cute #for a real wonderful lady who I love a lot #happy birthday!!

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sekceesimps · 3 years

Text

A Rose Made of Chains Ch 3

a/n Hey all! Thanks again for the positive feedback to this story.

We’re currently at 60 followers and we are so thrilled for that. Because we were not expecting such fast growth, I kind of had to rush parts of Chapters 2 and 3 to stay true to our promise to you guys. To account for this again, before we publish chapters 4-6, we’re planning on publishing at 100 followers instead of the 75 that we had previously planned. I don’t want to leave such a large break between chapters, but I really want to make it as good as possible for you all to enjoy. Don’t worry, I’ll be dropping a teaser for the next few chapters when we get to 75. I’ll also be doing a rewrite after we publish all 10 chapters. Keep leaving requests too!

Thanks again for all the support and I hope you enjoy the story, sorry for the long a/n! Also this chapter will be in Kurapika’s POV.

Sincerely Coffee

teaser Ch 1 Ch 2

teaser for part 2 , Ch 4, Ch 5

Kurapika (aged up) x reader x Chrollo

Warnings for this chapter: nothing too serious this time

He remembered everything he had felt that day. The morning with her had felt so natural and warm. He had felt things that he hadn’t felt something in such a long time. The feeling of being home. She was his home, he had determined to himself that morning as he had basked in her comforting heat.

He was reluctant to let her go to the store by herself, but he had other business to take care of. As important to him as you were, he had promised Leorio that he would help him with his studies. Plus, he knew you were strong and had confidence in you. Your nen ability was incredibly versatile in his opinion and you had always been logical enough to get past anything. He didn’t want to offend you either. You might think that he was implying you were weak if he sent you off with someone else. In the end he regretted not sending someone with you.

You had left around 8 AM. It was early so everywhere was empty, you should have made it back in about half an hour. An hour if you got distracted in the park. When it had become 11, he had started panicking. He was becoming frantic, pacing and muttering to himself. He had searched for you earlier and sent Leorio and Melody out to look for you too. He didn’t want to, but he began considering the worst case scenarios.

He knew in his soul that you were in grave danger. You had immense power with much more potential, it wouldn’t surprise him if a powerful nen-using group had taken you in hopes of using that power. There were very few of those types of groups, his stomach dropped slightly at the thought of the Phantom Troupe figuring out your power and taking you. He sighed slightly and went out into the chilly streets to search for you again.

»»————-　　————-««

“Kurapika!” she had shouted loudly from the other end of the park. He hadn’t seen her since the hunter exam and was surprised with how different you looked, but also how familiar. You carried yourself with a new wave of confidence, he determined that he liked it. Your pleasant voice never failed to tug at his heartstrings. He smiled and waved before walking swiftly in your direction. However, he was surprised when you instantly tackled him and engulfed him in a warm hug.

“How did you get from there to here so fast,” he asked dumbfounded at your speed. He tugged you closer to him and nudged further into your embrace. He had missed your soft cuddles. You had simply grinned and told him that a magician never reveals her secrets as you pulled away and tugged him towards Gon and Killua.

That day had been filled with catching up. He was very busy, but for you he had cleared out his plans for the day. You had walked with him for hours telling him everything about Killua’s family, your brief time in Heaven’s Arena, and going on and on about all that he missed.

The sun was setting and he would never forget the way your smile shined brighter than anything he had ever seen. You pointed out and admired all the colors, telling him how beautiful it was. Not as beautiful as you he had thought. You had interlocked your fingers clumsily with his when the two of you sat down on the ground by a lake. He had tugged his hand away at first, unfamiliar with what you were doing, before neatly locking them back together and pulling your head onto his shoulder. This was good, he thought, I could get used to this. The two of you lay together in this familiarity until the stars came out. You were dozed off now, he gave a small smile at how tranquil you were. He left a light kiss on your forehead, he felt bad about doing it while you were asleep but to be fair he could never muster up the confidence to do it if you were awake. “I’m never going to let go of you again,” he stated softly, letting you sleep a little more before he had to wake you up to take you back to your hotel.

»»————-　　————-««

“I actually don’t have one” she had said so nonchalantly, silently breaking his heart with just five words. She had no idea how much it broke him. He was glad that she changed the topic because he was incapable of saying anything. He had been so sure that she would be his soulmate. They were a perfect match. She’s strong willed and caring and so incredibly brave. The natural ease that she brought onto the group was something he admired. The way that you made even the cold mannered Killua smile never failed to amaze him. Her aura was one of comfort to him. Anything she said would instantly put him in a less tense position. His quiet and overly stoic demeanor needed the rays of light that you gave off to function properly.

He had often found himself looking at you. He couldn’t help it! You’re just too beautiful to him. The way your E/C eyes shined in the moonlight as you gushed on about a new song you had listened to or the way you would scrunch up your nose when you ate something bitter. He would tease you lightly for it, but all in good fun. He thought everything you did was so adorable and could sometimes get overwhelmed with how much he cared for you.

On the nights that you would crawl into his room he would feel the most peace. You would always fall asleep first and wake up last. He didn’t mind though, it gave him more time to admire you. He hadn’t known you for too long, but a deep unexplainable feeling in his chest would tell him to protect you. Why did you have to not be his soulmate. He couldn’t imagine a future without you at his side, rebuilding your clan. Those thoughts made him realize that he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that you don’t have a soulmark. He doesn’t care that his mark is probably on someone else. He would reject fate’s plan to put him with someone else. It didn’t matter because he knows that you are his and he is yours.

»»————-　　————-««

“We’re going to find her,” his loyal friend said kindly. Patting his back lightly, Leorio tried to comfort the quiet blonde. Gon and Killua were sitting in front of him solemnly, quiet for once, they missed their H/C friend. Kurapika had been looking at the ground, hair covering his face.

He looked up and the aura he gave off in that moment was one of pure and unyielding determination. His eyes were glowing, something that he was usually able to control, “We WILL find her,” he declared firmly, “I won’t stop until we get her back.” he put his head back down.

His friends looked at each other slightly disquieted before leaving the room and their friend alone. His mind was swimming with too many thoughts. Kurapika had always prided himself in remaining calm and level-headed. What would you think of him right now? It was pitiful. If he couldn’t find and save you, he would never forgive himself. He had promised long ago to always protect you and he couldn’t even help you on a trip to get groceries. He didn’t want to imagine a future where the two of you weren’t together. With shaking hands, he vowed quietly, “I’m going to find you. I promise, Y/N.” He was going to tear apart heaven and hell to get you back, he would do whatever it needed to take in order to bring you safely back to his side.

a/n Sorry that this chapter isn’t too action packed. These first 3 chapters were a lot of necessary set up and plot building for the future. Chapters 4-6 are when it actually gets spicy (dropping at 100 followers!). So don’t be shy… follow us and leave a request!

#kurapika #kurapika x reader #x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #chrollo #chrollo x reader #fic #chapter fic #fluff #angst #kurta!reader

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isthereanymorejello · 4 years

Text

Thank You

Summary: Y/N is the victim of an unsub, but Spencer rescues you, and you get attached.

Warnings: attempted murder, rape, drug use, typical criminal minds stuff

A/N: Hey y’all. This is my first story on this account, and I’m so excited for y’all to read it. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be included in the tags for any future stories, or if you have any requests. Thanks so much for reading.

You came to because of a rocking feeling. You shook awake and realized that you were in somebody’s arms, being carried bridal style. You immediately began to struggle blindly, remembering what had been happening to you when you passed out, but the arms around you just tightened.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay now. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. I’ve got you now. You’re safe,” said the man carrying you You looked up into a handsome sculpted face with kind brown eyes, wide with concern. The doctor also had curly brown hair that tickled his jawline. You heard what he said, but it did nothing to assuage your concerns.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” you asked, panicked.

“You’re in Virginia, near Alexandria. We just rescued you from a shed back there,” he explained as he set you down on a stretcher near an ambulance. “A man named Jack Scorielli kidnapped you and has had you for four days.” “I- I remember,” you said as you began to shiver without the warmth of Dr. Reid’s arms and also the memories of what you had been through.

“He’s in custody now. You don’t need to be afraid anymore,” he assured you as he noticed your shaking and grabbed a blanket from just inside the ambulance and wrapped it around you. “How are you feeling. The paramedics are ready to take you to the hospital at any minute, but I didn’t notice any pressing injuries that required immediate care, and I figured that you might want to sit for a minute before being rushed anywhere.” “Thank you,” you muttered weakly as you looked up from your hands and met his earnest eyes. They were still just as concerned.

“Are you ready to go now?” he asked softly. You nodded slowly. “Ok, well I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

You reached out and grabbed his arm sharply as he turned to walk away. “Stay, please. Will you ride with me to the hospital? Please?” “Um… sure,” Dr. Reid answered as he shook off your hand. He followed you into the ambulance as the paramedics placed you in there. “You’re gonna be ok, you know? I know it seems rough now, but it gets easier. I mean, statistically, you’ll probably be in therapy, but it does get better.” You just placed a hand on his arm, meant to silence him. “We will have to debrief you later though,” he continued. “That’s gonna be rough, but JJ and Hotch will be kind. They’ll try not to push you, or make you uncomfortable” “You won’t be in the room?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice again. “Well, no. I’m not really great with victims. I can be a little callous by accident sometimes, so they don’t really let me in the room.” He shook your hand off of his arm, and the rest of the ride to the hospital was spent in silence.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were immediately rushed off to the hospital, where you were checked out and a rape kit was performed. After that, you were left alone in your room, with a policeman stationed outside. Later, two unfamiliar agents entered the room cautiously.

“Y/N? Hi, I’m communications liaison Jennifer Jareau, and this is Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Is it okay if we ask you some questions.” “Where’s Dr. Reid? Can I see him?” you asked in lieu of answering the proffered question.

“Spencer? He’s in the lobby. We can go get him if you want him here.” You just nodded. Jennifer left the room and the Unit Chief sat in one of the chairs near your bed after he finished setting up a camera on a tripod.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in a low, soft voice, but you just remained silent.

“Y/N?” Dr. Reid asked as he quickly walked through the door behind Jennifer a couple of moments later. “Are you okay?” You nodded. “But you asked for me?” You nodded again.

“JJ, Hotch, can the two of you give us a minute please?” They left the room, and Dr. Reid continued to stand in the corner of the room opposite your hospital bed. “Why wouldn’t you talk to JJ and Hotch?” You shook your head with a wild look in your eyes. “Y/N, please. You gotta talk to me.” “They just scared me,” you mumbled softly.

“Well, that’s understandable. You were kidnapped. Most likely, you’ll feel some sort of distrust for the rest of your life.” You were silent at that. “Right, that’s probably not helping. Sorry. Well, I do still need to ask you some questions.” You were silent again. “I know that this may be hard for you, but do you remember what happened when you were taken.” “Um- um. It was late, and I was leaving the grocery store, and somebody grabbed me. I woke up, and it was so, so dark,” you said as your voice began to break.

“That’s okay. Just breathe, Y/N. Remember, he can’t hurt you now.”

“He did things to me, really bad things,” you muttered under your breath, your eyes tearing up.

“Y/N. I need you to speak up please. I know that it hurts, but I need you to,” he said as he moved to stand beside you at the head of your hospital bed. You reached for his arm and hung onto it again. A pained expression took over Dr. Reid’s face.

“He did bad things to me,” you repeated.

“I know, but I need you to say it. I’m so sorry.” “He sexually assaulted me,” you cried as the tears started to stream down your face. Dr. Reid sat down next to you on the bed and put a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s proven that crying is therapeutic.” Your tears eventually started to slow and you sniffled for the last time. “Are you gonna be okay?” “I think so,” you said softly.

“Ok, well, here’s my number. I’ll be in touch if we need anything else. That reminds me, I do have just one more question for you. I noticed that you didn’t have anybody on file for us to call.”

“Oh- um… My father left before I was born. My mom died a few years ago. No siblings and I’m new in town. I don’t really have anybody to put down.” “Do you know how incredibly dangerous that is? Everybody needs to have an emergency contact!” Dr. Reid. shouted as he jumped up and began to pace the room while angrily running his hands through his hair. “Are you angry with me?” you asked softly.

“No, of course not,” Dr. Reid exhaled, his voice immediately softening when he looked at you. “I’m just worried about you.” “Why?” “Well.... look at what just happened to you. I mean, yes the odds of that are statistically improbable, but it still happened. You didn’t have anybody for us to call, or anybody to be with you now. Uh… I’d be worried about anybody in your situation.”

“Oh, um… Ok”

“So are you gonna be ok, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you muttered softly. Not because you felt ok, but because you knew that was the standard answer, the one expected of you.

Getting the affirmation he needed, Spencer got up and returned to the hallway, leaving you alone in your room. The coldness of the room settled in, and you shivered. It was like your shoulders bent forward and you collapsed in on yourself.

…

The doctor hadn’t found anything wrong with you besides the obvious, but they still wanted to keep you overnight for observation.

You returned home the next night, to your cold and quiet apartment. The emptiness was disquieting. You felt a sense of unease in your own home. Enough so, that you froze up and it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

You felt so awful. It was like it took all the strength in the world just to be able to reach for your phone. You grabbed your phone and quickly typed in Dr. Reid’s number, which you had already inputted when he had given you his card.

“Hello,” he answered on the second ring, sleep clouding his voice. Just the sound of his voice immediately calmed you down.

“Dr. Reid? It’s Y/N. I think I’m in trouble.” “What’s wrong?” he asked, panic immediately taking over his voice.

“It’s like my chest is tight, and I’m- i’m having trouble breathing and, and I almost can’t move, and I feel like I might die, and I’m so so busy.” “Y/N, Y/N. Listen to me, you’re having a panic attack. You’re gonna be fine, ok Now, can you tell me where you are. I can come get you or at least see you and help you. Where are you?” “I’m at my apartment. It’s uh… on 4d 24 Cherry Blossom Street,” you murmured slowly.

“Ok, Good, I live 6 blocks from there. I’m on my way now. I’m gonna stay on the line with you until I get there, ok?”

You nodded your head and then, realizing that he couldn’t hear your nod through the phone, said, “Yes.”

“Ok Y/N. I want you to breathe on my counts, ok. Ready? Inhale for 1-2-3-4, hold for 1-2-3-4, exhale for 1-2-3-4,” he counted slowly in an even voice. “Ok, now we’re gonna do that again. 1-2-3-4. Hold 1-2-3-4. Out 1-2-3-4. And again, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4. Are you still with me, Y/N? Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” “Um- um my breathing is kinda better, and everything is sorta coming into focus now,” you stammered.

“Ok I’m coming up your stairs now. Can you open up the door for me?” he asked as you heard urgent knocking on your door.

“Um, I think that it’s unlocked.” “Y/N, are you serious? You were just kidnapped. Not to mention, Richard Chase who killed 6 people from 1977- 1978 and took unlocked doors to come inside and cannibalize his victims.” he said as he burst through your door, practically in a state of frenzy.

“Not helping, Doctor.” “Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” You shook your head. “Ok, well what can I do for you. Medically speaking, you’ll feel better if you walk around. Do you think that you can stand?” “I need help,” you muttered weakly.

“Okay,” he said, as he offered you his hands to help pull you up. Once you were fully stood up, you grabbed onto him and his sweater vest with all of your force, as you started to walk in slow circles around your apartment. “Do you need to do any more breathing exercises?” “I don’t think so.” “Have you eaten?” “No,” you admitted as a little bit of shame crept into your voice.

“You need to eat, Y/N. I’ll get you some water. Do you have any box mac and cheese, or maybe grilled cheese supplies? Sorry, I’m not a great cook.”

“Yeah, um in the cabinet next to the fridge,” you answered as you sat on the stool across from the sink.

“Ok,” Dr. Reid said as he began to bustle around your kitchen. A few minutes later, he set an only slightly burnt grilled cheese in front of you.

“Thank you, Dr. Reid, for the grilled cheese and you know, for being here.” “Call me Spencer. I feel like we know each other well enough now.” “Yeah, I guess so,” you said as you wolfed down the last of your grilled cheese. “Well, I think it’s time that you get some sleep. Are you okay if I sleep on your couch? Sorry it’s just late, and I have work in the morning.” “Actually, I, um, I’m kind of scared of the dark especially now because when I came to um when he had me, it’s just that it was so, so dark. I’m just really scared to spend the night alone, so um, if it’s not too much to ask, can you please sleep with me? You know, um in my bed with me,” you added the last bit, noticing how red he got.

“Um yeah, sure.” “Thank you. I have some old, baggy T-shirts from college that you can wear.” “I know it sounds weird, and it’s totally inappropriate, but I’m a sleep in my boxers kinda guy. I just get so hot.” “No, yeah, sure. That’s fine,” you murmured, blushing furiously. You made your way to your bedroom with Spencer following close behind you. Spencer sat on the bed and turned around to give you some privacy. You quickly changed until you were just in your T-shirt and panties, and climbed into bed beside him. “Thank you for this.”

“Don’t mention it.” “No, really, thank you. I have a hard time believing that you do this for all the victims. Really, this is lovely of you. You’re an amazing guy, Spencer.” “Yeah, you’re welcome,” he whispered softly into the darkness of your room.

“If it’s not too much to ask, can you please um, wrap your arms around me. You can say no. That’s fine too.” “No Y/N. With everything that you’ve been through, you can ask for anything that you want,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into the warmth of his chest.

“Thank you.” “You’ve said that five times in the past hour.” “Sorry I’m probably annoying you.” “You’re not. You could never annoy me. Just go to sleep now,” he said as he began to hum Vivaldi’s “The Four Seasons” in your ear. Soon, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep the likes of which you thought you would never be able to experience again.

…

You woke up to Spencer rolling back over in bed to wrap his arms around you again.

“Hey,” you murmured sleepily. “Why are you up so early?” “My boss just called. He gave us the day off,” Spencer said as he moved to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face, but you were already in the process. His hand hung awkwardly in the air before he finally dropped it. “Right, so well, uh, you’re probably hungry. I could um, scramble some eggs.” “No. How about I take you for coffee? It’s the least I could do after all that you’ve done for me.” “Yeah, sure. That sounds great.” “Ok, well, I’ll just get dressed and oh- you don’t have any clothes here.” “It’s fine. I’ll just wear what I wore last night. Well, I’ll leave you to change, you know, give you some privacy and then I can meet you in the entryway,” he muttered awkwardly as he quickly walked out the door. A couple of minutes later, you rejoined Spencer in your entryway. “Are you ready to go,” he asked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, before he offered you his arm, and the two of you made your way out the door.

You reached the closest coffee shop to your apartment, and sat at a table in the sun. Spencer had never noticed until now how your hair shined in the light and how your eyes crinkled at the corner when you smiled.

“You’ve been amazing throughout this entire thing. Thank you>” “You gotta stop thanking me. If I’m being honest, I did all this because you’re a sweet girl who needed help. I didn’t like seeing you suffer.

“Oh, uh…” you stammered, taken aback at his words. “So tell me about yourself, Doctor Spencer Reid. We’ve only really talked about me. I mean you’re so young and you’re a doctor who works for the FBI. There’s gotta be a story behind that or something.”

“I’m kind of a genius,” he admitted, embarrassed.

“A genius? Please continue.” “Well, I’ve got an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory. I graduated high school at twelve, went to MIT and got doctorates in a few different subjects. Then, when I graduated I knew I wanted to help people, and the FBI had tried to recruit me a few times before, but this time I was finally old enough to go to the Academy, so then when they asked, I said yes,” he babbled, like he was rushing to get to the end of his sentences. “Wow! And you never looked back? I wish I had that kind of confidence in myself,” you exclaimed, amazed at how much you didn’t know about the young doctor. “Not exactly. There was a case a couple of years ago in New Orleans, and I ran into an old friend of mine, or, um… more like a competitor actually. We knew each other in school. He wanted to go into the FBI too, and he almost did, but uh- he couldn’t take the pressures of the Academy and dropped out. Now, he lives down there and gets drunk and lives life, plays music, you know?” “Yeah, I think I do.” “I just wanted to know if I was missing out on anything, you know, starting my career so young and never really giving myself any other options. I was having problems too, but that’s all in the past now.” “Do you wanna tell me about it?” “Um, no… it’s just a lot to take in, and I don’t wanna overwhelm you with it because you already have enough of your own problems.” “Ok, just know that if you want to, you can talk to me about anything,” you offered up with a smile. Spencer couldn’t hold up his barriers up any longer, staring into the light of your beaming smile. Suddenly, his walls came tumbling down, and he was telling you everything.

“I got kidnapped on a case a couple of years ago. The unsub, that’s what we call the perpetrators, suffered from DID, you know, he had multiple personality traits, and when he was kind, he tried to help by giving me dilaudid, and I got addicted. When I saw Ethan in New Orleans, I was in a bad place. He helped me a lot. He didn’t fix it, but he helped,” Spencer admitted, staring at his fidgeting hands as he spoke.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” “You’re one of the only people that knows about that. Please don’t tell anybody. I could be fired. Please, Y/N.” “I won’t, but Spencer, you can’t keep all of that inside of you. It’s not healthy. You need to talk to somebody, so from now on, you’re going to call me whenever you are feeling bad. Ok, this helping each other stuff is a two way street.”

“OK,”

“Look me in my eyes, and promise me that you’ll do it.” He met your eyes and said the magic words you needed to hear. “Yes.” “Spencer, can I be honest with you?” “Of course.” “Over the past weekend, I don’t know. I just feel a strange kind of attachment, like we’re so close. I’m not the kind of girl who does this, but I like you Spencer, like I really like you. I actually think I might be falling in love with you,” you admitted in rushed sentences, your cheeks burning, as you practically tried to see through the table with how hard you were staring at it. You couldn’t bear looking up at Spencer, and seeing what he thought of your confession.

“Y/N? Hey, Y/N. Look at me,” Spencer said as he reached across the table and grabbed your forearms, pulling you so you were leaning over the table with your fingertips just gently brushing the inner corner of his elbows. “I like you a lot too.” You beamed at that and leaned further across the table to press a sweet kiss to Spencer’s lips.

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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There’s a Light Over at the Frankenstein place - Sebastian Stan fluff

The one where you’ve been set up on a blind date with Sebastian Stan, with whom you had briefly worked and considered to be a friend. The only problem is, does he feel the same way?

Warnings: light angst? I’m incapable of writing anything without a happy ending, so do not worry.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Seb?” I asked, honestly surprised to find him walking in with who I assumed to be his mother, by the similarity of their constitutions. His eyes met mine and I could swear he blushed, before looking down to his shoes and averting his eyes to his godmother, who stood next to me.

“You two are witches, do you know that?” He provoked, to which the two women simply giggled. I looked from one woman to the other, not being able to contain the sheepish smile trying to fight its way into my expression.

“I can’t believe this,” I teased Anastasia, who simply rolled her eyes at me, before nudging me with her elbow.

“Well, you couldn’t stop talking about him since you two met, so we decided to help,” she explained and it was my turn to roll my eyes.

“So I say that I finally met your grandson and that he really is nice and you read that I’m in love with him? Remind me to never say something to you again, Lord knows how you’re going to interpret it,” she blushed at the comment, but it was obvious by my smile that I was only joking. “Listen, if I have to go out with anyone tonight, I’m glad it’s with you, Seb.” I winked in his direction and didn’t miss the fact that he, yet again, blushed under my gaze.

Georgeta, Sebastian’s mom, grinned at me like I had hung the moon in the sky. I remembered he had told me how big of a fan of my work she was and so I made sure to hug her and introduce myself since he didn’t seem to be too eager to do so at that moment. Soon enough, both she and Anastasia kissed us goodbyes and with their last reminders to behave, finally left us be.

I wasn’t lying about what I had said. I was so incredibly grateful that my blind date turned out to be Sebastian, not only because I thought he was actually cute, but because he was someone I was already comfortable with and I hated the idea of spending my Thursday night with a complete stranger who could bore me to death. There was absolutely no possibility that was going to happen, though, since he was my company.

Despite the fact that we hadn’t known each other for that long, the two weeks we had spent together on set was one of the best experiences of my life. He was simply so freaking funny and considerate and I couldn’t forget the feeling that filled my heart when we spent the whole night looking up at the stars and talking about our greatest fears. It was so nice to find someone who understood my problems with anxiety so well, but every time I thought about the suffering this incredible human being went through because of it, I wanted to wrap him in a blanket cocoon and never let him leave my arms again.

“So…” I started, seeing as we were both still one in front of the other and he hadn’t made any movement that indicated his decision to sit down at the table Anastasia and I had picked when we arrived. “Do you want to stay here or would you rather go somewhere else?” I asked, watching as he finally looked me in the eyes, scratching his nape.

“Whatever you wish, darling…” he stated, but I could still see the clear discomfort in his stance. I looked around me once, weighing the trendy restaurant his godmother had brought me to before voicing what I had already decided.

“Let’s get out of here,” I pulled him to me by the sleeve of his coat, locking our arms together before we let the cold air of Los Angeles’ evening hit us.

“Where are we going?” he questioned and I simply glanced at him, a smile on my lips.

“You’ll see.” Was my only answer as I quickly made my way towards the spot I had in mind. The walk was silent, despite the fact that I tried to come up with something to say a thousand times, but his disquiet threw me off completely. I knew blind dates were awkward, but seeing that we already knew each other, I was expecting at least some kind of conversation, since I considered us to be friends.

My feet took me to a well-known path and soon enough I found myself in front of my favorite bar in LA. I spent too much time during my visits here, but I had never brought any of my friends here before.

“What is this?” Sebastian asked, his bright blue eyes shining under the bar’s neon sign.

“The favorite place in this city,” I explained, pushing in the doors to let us in. Instantly, the familiar buzz of excited voices and the dim lights welcomed me to the environment I came to know so well.

“Hey, Peter!” I shouted over the other voices gathered around the bar, excitedly waving at the barman.

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you around here these days!” The muscular man behind the counter shouted back, his hands occupied with wiping down a few glasses. I simply shrugged, sticking my tongue out.

“You know I’m full of surprises.” I giggled.

“That I do. What can I get you today?” I glanced at Sebastian, but as he was too occupied staring at his feet, I decided to let it go.

“I’ll have a beer, please.”

“And your friend?” I remained quiet, not looking at Sebastian as I waited for him to say something. To be honest, I was getting pretty pissed now.

“Oh, nothing for me, thank you.” That was it. As I accepted the bottle Peter offered me, I walked around the bar and chose a seat right in front of the barman, just under the tv, so I could get a good view of the game that was playing.

“Do you want me to look if there’s a soccer game on?” The bartender knew me too well.

“Yes, please,” I smiled gratefully at him, taking a swig of my beer. From the corner of my eye, I could see Sebastian changing his weight from one foot to another. Oh, so he was getting uncomfortable. Good. Maybe now he’d understand how I felt.

“Do you want to stay by the bar?” His voice reached me and it sounded timid. I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, seeing as I wasn’t expecting you to stick around, I figured it’d be better for me to remain here than to be left alone at a table.” Sebastian frowned at my words as I cursed myself for being mesmerized by the blue in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I took a deep breath when I realized he truly looked confused.

Turning in my chair, I abandoned the game I was only pretending to watch and fixed my attention on my date for the night. “Sebastian, it’s okay. You can go back to your place. I promise I won’t tell your godmother, we can just say it didn’t work out or whatever. I just can’t bear this vibe anymore, I hate to see how uncomfortable you seem to be by me even though I thought we were friends until tonight.” I scoffed, feeling incredibly silly under his piercing gaze. I had to look down at my shoes before continuing.

“It’s so stupid, I was expecting to have a terrible night. And then when I saw you getting into the restaurant with your mother, I was hopeful that at least I would have fun. After all, I love your company.” Huffing, I straightened up on the chair, still not looking him in the eyes. “I’m sorry if you felt embarrassed at the prospect of going on a date with me. This could have been simply a night out between friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” The words froze me in my spot, making my insides feel like they would burst and kill me on the spot at any minute, now. The shock finally made me look up to meet his eyes, and the encounter made it seem like he was surprised by his own words as well. “Shit. That’s not what I meant.”

Trembling, I left my chair and reached for my purse blindly, already turning around in search of the bar’s exit. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain,” I whispered, despite knowing he probably wouldn’t listen over the loud sounds surrounding us.

Quick steps took me outside of the building and the cold wind from the night sobered me up. What the fuck was that? My mind wasn’t working fast enough to catch up with what was going on, but my heart felt up to date, as I could feel it breaking into a thousand pieces.

It was stupid, but I knew I had a crush on Sebastian. And despite knowing he’d never feel attracted to me, I just never expected him to not even want to be my friend.

Sebastian’s P.O.V.

I was stuck on the same spot Y/N had left me, mulling over my own stupidity when at last something clicked and I found myself running out of the bar to look for her. Thankfully, she wasn’t very far so I managed to reach her just before she crossed the street.

“Wait, please,” I asked, grabbing her by the shoulder. I was expecting her to pull away or at least yell at me, but when she turned around with tears in her eyes, I knew I had screwed up. “Shit. Fuck. C’mon, doll, please don’t cry over me.” I pulled her for a hug, which she thankfully didn’t refuse, but she didn’t reciprocate either. Well, small steps. At least she was still here.

I let her cry against my sweater as I pondered over my own stupidity. Why was I like this? I hurt the only person in the world I didn’t want to hurt and now my own heart was heavy, not only with regret but also with fear. I was terrified of the prospect of losing Y/N.

Her cute little sobs started to soften and I felt it was safe to pull away from her just enough so that I could get a clear view of her face, which I quickly held between my hands. “Doll, I’m so sorry. God, I’m such an idiot, and I understand if you hate me and don’t want to see me ever again, but please just let me explain. When I said I didn’t want to be your friend… What I meant was… I would love nothing more than to be more than friends. I was actually the one who asked my mother and my godmother to set us up on a date.”

She blinked once and then twice, her lips stuck in a pout as the tears disappeared from her eyes. “I-I don’t understand…” She raised her coat’s sleeve to wipe her face as she stared up at me, her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what I had just shared.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met.” My eyebrows rose all the way to my hairline at those words. I even snorted, 100% not believing what he had just said.

“Well, you have a weird way of showing that, Sebastian.” He chuckled, looking down at his shoes before meeting my eyes again.

“You’re not wrong. I… I am so bad at dealing with what I feel about you, in fact, that I had to resort to my godmother’s matchmaking skills. And you saw how she gets… But I wanted to get through with it, because otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to ask you out.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I tilted my head as I crossed my arms, the picture of annoyance.

“Then why the hell did you treat me like a nuisance? I mean, you’ve barely said a word to me all night!” It was hard to ignore how cute he looked with his cheeks slightly tinted pink, but I tried to. I wanted to be angry, I had every right to be irritated!

“Yeah, well… Turns out my plan wasn’t as great as I thought. When I saw you in that restaurant…” His phrase was interrupted by a low whistle. “I could only think something along the lines of shitfuckshit she looks too great ohmygod I’m gonna ruin this fuckfuckfuck abort mission abort.” Now, I had to laugh. And just like that, I could feel that warm fuzzy feeling that took over me whenever I was near Sebastian, and he knew it. His small, shy smile was begging me to forgive him when I had already done it.

“You’re too cute for your own good, Stan.” Pulling him by the lapels of his coat, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his lips, before separating our heads to gather his reaction. He was wide-eyed, but obviously not displeased, as his gaze kept traveling from my own eyes to my lips while he licked his.

“Well, so far I’d say it’s been highly advantageous to me.” Giggling, I allowed him to embrace me until our chests were pressed tightly together. “Think you can spare me another kiss?” I frowned in fake confusion at his question.

“Before you take me out on a proper date? You must be confusing me with another woman, good sir.” Now, it was his turn to laugh.

“That’s fair. Where to, milady?” I accepted the arm he was offering me while giving him a mischievous look.

“Anywhere, as long as you talk to me, silly.” The smile he gave me made me melt as I hugged his arm and allowed him to guide me through the night.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan insert #sebastian stan insert fanfiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan writing #my fics #fluff #sebastian stan #sebastian stan angst #angst

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spc4eva · 3 years

Text

Mandokar: Chapter Four

I’m weak willed y’all. Enjoy the years flying by. *cries in hopeless romantic* I couldn’t stop myself - HERE HAVE IT.

Summary: The years make the heart grow fonder. But the Empire looms on the horizon and they’ll not leave any planet untouched.

Word Count: 17,673

Rating: M (+18) latter part of the chapter contains full on smut - praise kink, the helmets stay on, dirty talking, unprotected, vaginal, and fingering

Warning: mentions of questionable consent for touching and coercion past comfort

Cross Posted on AO3

Masterlist

Din was the first to return. He'd not really been expecting it to go any other way, but he had sort of hoped that Sena might be waiting, gracing him with a middle finger and arrogant helmet tilt. Instead, he knelt before the Elders in the Foundry as he handed over the supplies purchased with the credits from his hunt. Shustii, the only other mando who did not wear a helmet amongst the council, creased a smile amongst her wrinkles.

"You have impressed the Tribe, Djarin," her trembling elderly voice announced, speaking for the group. His own eyes went to Rhenx, whom he had always admired, but it was always Shustii who gave him attention. "You are the first to return from your Trial and with a bountiful harvest. For your success, you shall move forward in your training."

Din bowed his head respectfully, pausing in the position, before coming back up mechanically. Waiting for his dismissal, it was given when Shustii nodded, allowing for him to get back to his feet. The Armorer stepped forward and acquired his offering before he turned around, departing from the Foundry. While he was proud to be the first one back, he also didn't think the job had been that difficult. His bounty had all but sobbed at his feet, begging not to be taken in. Up to his eyeballs in debt, the man knew he was going to be killed or forced into servitude. None of that was Din's problem. It was a job and the man had done this to himself.

He wondered what the rest of his vod were up to, trying to silently place his bets on the order in which they'd return. He banked on Sena being a close contender, followed by Kedth and Xivi (who had decided to wait until she was 17 to go on her hunt). He was absolutely astonished to see Aya return next, but quickly realized that it wasn't because she had been successful. Over the years, since her loss to Sena, she'd cut herself off more from the rest of the group. He didn't pity her, as he took his own solace on not always being a part of the main crowd, but they were opposites. He took his part in the Tribe very seriously and Aya did not try. Most of her peers disliked her, Din included, because of what she'd done after the end of her duel. The mando had never apologized for it and Sena was quite popular within their class and outside of it with hunters around her brother's age. If she had just apologized, her luck might've been much better.

From the sag of her shoulders and the uneasy amount of time she was locked in the Foundry, Din knew she had failed. Noticing her departure at dusk, he could hear her cries coming out from her vocoder as she dejectedly wandered off. People who failed were allowed to try again when they were older and would eventually be assigned duties around the covert. Since they were not talented enough to manage easy bounties, they would be put to better use in doing things like cooking, raising the Foundlings, and supply requisitions. These were not bad jobs, as they were necessary for the Tribe to function, but it had to be a hard pill to swallow - watching your peers move on and being barred behind because of incompetence.

Kedth arrived the following day, brimming with pride, and leaving the Foundry after a short hour of talking with the Elders.

"Who else has come back?" Kedth asked, finding him in the Den.

"Aya failed, but she is the only other one," he answered, feet kicked up on the edge of the hearth table where flames sputtered up from the center.

"Dank farrik, I beat the Vizslas?" Kedth let out a little hoot of victory. "Knew I wasn't gonna beat you, but I expected Sena to be neck and neck with you."

"Depends on where her bounty was," Din shrugged. By this point he assumed it was a lengthy distance, because she wouldn't have taken their bet if she knew she was going to lose. He thumbed something in his pocket, contemplating whether or not after the First Trial was the best time to give it. He'd already noticed Hyvhast eying Sena and after they left normal classes, any of the female mandos would become fair game. It hadn't been his intention to eye up his rival, but he also didn't like the idea of anyone other than himself hunting her.

"Did you hear me Djarin?" Kedth intoned.

"What?" he tilted his visor back, dropping his hand from his pocket.

"I asked who you think is gonna get here next."

He shrugged, unable to levy bets when they had no idea where their vod were in the Outer Rim. They didn't have to wait around too long. Oyiin followed, which began making him anxious. Xivi was next, followed by Vowr, and finally Sena. Everyone had passed and he knew that Vizsla had too by the hefty supplies she dragged with her to the Foundry. Din waited for her to be released, darkness falling over the village before she stepped out of the Foundry, the moonlight catching the golden paint on her armor, lighting it up like a beacon against her dark armor.

"Looks like you lost," he announced smugly.

Sena's helmet turned up toward him, a strange, uncharacteristic line in her shoulders as she just stared. "Whatever," she grumbled and walked away.

He assumed she was just bitter, trotting after her. "Where did your bounty take you?" he inquired casually.

She did not answer, quickening her pace as she carved the path back to the Vizsla house.

This disquieted him. Sena was a blabber mouth, more than eager to talk about her success and paint vivid stories with her words. " Vod ?"

"I don't want to talk about it," her crisp voice was cold and distant.

"Did you fail?" That was the wrong question. Of course she hadn't failed. Din had watched her carrying in her supplies, but he couldn't logically find another reason why she wouldn't just say what happened.

"No."

"Then what-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" she snarled. The Vizsla temper was infamous around the Tribe, but it wasn't often that it was bared. Most knew to be wary of it as Hux had once displayed how terrible their family's temper could be. There were a few times where Paz had threatened to teeter over that delicate edge, but his antagonizers quickly backed off as Big Blue had become the largest person in the Tribe.

He didn't find out why she was so upset until he was sparring with Paz later in the week. Sena had been incredibly quiet compared to usual. While she was amongst her friends, she didn't contribute to the conversation or answer questions as frequently as typical. He parried a thrust, bones ringing beneath his vambrace at the strength in Paz's well placed strike. If he had to guess, this Vizsla also seemed rather irritated.

"Hey," Din muttered once they'd come to a close, his heart pounding his chest, Paz shoving the straw of his water bottle underneath his helmet before greedily drinking. "Are you two alright? Since coming back from the First Trial-" he trailed off, Paz glaring at him and straightening at the suggestion.

"What's it matter to you?" the blue mando asked sharply.

"We're vod ," Din offered poorly.

For a fleeting second, Din thought that Paz was going to pummel him into the ground. Instead, a breath hissed through his vocoder, crackling slightly at the end. "Mission was tough on us," was all he was willing to admit.

The answer was cryptic and Din still didn't comprehend. "Tough quarry?"

"I wish," Paz grumbled. "Just don't bother her about it. She just needs some time to cool down. Ready for another round?"

8BBY

Cooling down took much longer than Din had expected. His thoughts wandered about what had happened that was enough to shake Sena and Paz. Whatever it was, he couldn't even begin to fathom it, but it must've been bad. Training continued as usual and he clung to the small gift he had intended on giving her way longer, until it became just a familiar weight in his pocket, and he shrank back as older hunters began talking to her. Paz was almost always nearby, hovering like a menacing shadow, refusing to allow anyone who wasn't a classmate of hers linger for more than a couple of minutes.

As annoying as that might've been for Sena, Din was thankful for it. Or, he had been until Hyvhast finally broke through her denials and disinterest, officially staking his claim on Sena after their Second Trial. To say that Din was bitter was an absolute understatement, sparing his friend long stares as he noticed keldabe kisses being exchanged between her and Hyvhast. Beyond that, he didn't know what else was going on relationship-wise and felt too peeved (and awkward) to even think about asking her how things were going.

It wasn't permanent was it? Maybe eventually Sena would see that Din was a better hunter and leave behind Hyvhast. He snorted at his dumb thoughts, aware that Hyvhast's unrelenting persistence was the only reason Sena had agreed to court with him. Din Djarin had done nothing to express his feelings toward her. In fact, he'd held onto the gift he'd intended on giving her for two years. Not once had he felt it was the right time to give it to her and come the end of the Second Trial, she was suddenly taken.

He'd grown closer to Paz, not because it suited him, but because he liked the Vizsla. Always willing to help when he had time, Paz made for a great companion and an even better teacher. Din would have been an idiot not to take advantage of the other male's knowledge. They'd gone a few hunts together and out of most people, he found he preferred working with Paz to those he grew up with.

"Where's the Guild that we're headed to?" Paz yawned, cleaning his heavy blaster before the mission, setting the pieces spread on the table in the Vizsla karyai .

"Felucia," Din answered shortly. Wasn't the best planet, in fact it was incredibly humid and sticky, swampy to the point where just walking around town felt as if it soaked you straight through, but the Guild outpost there was remote and nondescript. "Where do you usually go?"

"Dadrus," Paz was cleaning the bolt still with a rag, wiping away the residue before picking up his ale and drinking it through a straw. "Not too bad out there. The Guild Master is fond of Sena, so he tends to give us good pucks."

"Where is she? I haven't seen her around recently," Din commented, trying to sound disinterested and nonchalant.

"She went out tonight," Paz grumbled, his mood shifting immediately.

Oh. Din turned his helmet back down to his ambien rifle and tried to pretend as if that didn't bother him. For a split second, he thought the conversation had been dropped like a hot potato, but Paz picked back up with a sharp intake of breath like he was a bull nerf about to charge.

"Don't understand what she sees in Hyvhast," Paz vented, shoulders pinned tensely as he hunched closer to his weapons. "He's a good hunter, but he's ori'buyce, kih'kovid ."

Din snorted, aware of what he was referencing. Hyvhast had no modesty. Well, that wasn't quite a trait taught amongst Mandalorians, you still acknowledged your Elders and those that were better than you. He didn't spend enough time around Hyvhast to know him too well, but he'd heard the other hunter boasting in the Den before, loudly enough that the rest of the patrons could hear him. He wasn't being brash accidentally, he wanted everyone to hear.

"Never understood why you never made a play at her," Paz remarked between his snippets of insulting Hyvhast.

Din froze, almost dropping the priming pin in his hands at the Vizsla's proclamation. Swallowing hard, he looked over to see the visor fixated on him, undoubtedly Paz locking eyes. Was he saying that he would've allowed it? That he wouldn't be complaining about Din half as much as he did about Hyvhast? Somehow he doubted that. Whoever dated Sena was going to have to deal with the over protective big brother.

The door opened, saving his shebs from having to offer a rebuttal to Paz. Snapping his visor away, finally releasing Din from the power of holding his gaze, he sat up and dropped his charging handle on the table and stood up abruptly. Cocking his head, he turned around to see what was going on, noticing that Sena had returned home for the evening. His heart ached at the sight of her, not noticing the tremble in her shoulders or the quick way she ran to her bedroom.

Paz was at the door just as it closed in his face, causing Din to glance back in confusion. "Sen'ika? Sen'ika open the door or I'm coming in-" his voice dropped, tender and unlike the man that Din knew. Something was wrong and Din hadn't even noticed, but the moment that Paz had laid eyes on his sister it'd taken all but two seconds for him to know. That made his stomach shift uncomfortably, wondering how many times he'd never noticed that she was upset. Maybe he really didn't deserve to court her.

Paz punched the code into the door, an item falling out of his bandolier and catching the door before it closed completely. It jarred it, leaving it open just a breadth, Din staring at it as he heard the conversation he wasn't intended to.

"Sen'ika?"

There was quiet sniffling, followed by the bed squeaking, bucking beneath Paz's weight as he sat on it. "Am I ugly?" she asked her brother quietly, voice unmodulated; her helmet was off. She always had a different accent from everyone else, so articulate and prim (aside from when she cursed) and it made his knees weak even now.

The silence threatened to strangle Din where he sat, wondering if anyone outside her aliit had seen her face. Finally, Paz spoke, "Why would you think that?"

She broke out into more tears. Such an awful noise, each little whimper sending unpleasant stabs down Din's back, his throat parched, and his fingers tightening around the arms of the chair he lounged in.

"Did Hyvhast do something? Did he see-"

"N-no, not beneath my helmet," she hiccuped.

"Then why would you think that? Why would you think you're ugly, princess?" he soothed, his own voice suddenly warmer and unmodulated.

"W-we were fooling around and... you know how I feel about that after what happened on Tatooine-" she choked out, hoarse and tinny. "-but I thought he was nice, s-so I let him. He's been wanting to for weeks now, b-but I wasn't ready. Wh-when he saw beneath my-" she wailed again, Din flinching.

"He saw what?" the edge of fury hissed in Paz's voice, the low growl that would build up into more.

"H-he said I looked like a b-boy. Th-that I have no chest. And then m-my marks-"

"Shh, Sen'ika. He's di’kutla . He'll never know the mesh'la dala beneath the helmet," Paz soothed. "He was never worthy."

"I told you that Anaxians age slower," she whined. "I-I'm still growing. I just thought maybe he would wait a couple more years but-"

"That was never his interest. I warned you about what happens when hunting begins," Paz muttered darkly. "It's not always with the intention of entering riduurok ."

She broke back down into a fit of crying, Din glued to his chair and unable to move for fear of alerting the both of them that he was eavesdropping. From what he garnered, Hyvhast had pressured her into doing things before she was ready and that vexed him. What had happened on Tatooine? What the kriff was an Anaxian? He thought she was Sephi. His memories flipped back to their first time by the moon pool as children, the way she'd climbed the tree and howled at the stars. There had always been something strange about her that he could never quite place his finger on. Part of that mysteriousness had drawn him in.

Now there were other reasons. His fingers thumbed the item in his pocket, clenching tightly around it that the beskar pressed through his gloves and into his skin. She was a loyal member of the Tribe, shouldered her duty, made an amazing hunter, and pulled her weight amongst the Tribe without ever offering a complaint. Aside from her abilities as a Mandalorian, Din thought she was one of the most amusing people he knew. With a mouth like a sailor and goofy to a fault, when she wasn't being serious about her work, she was fun to be around... easy to be around. And tolerable. More than tolerable by this point. Din liked spending time with her, even if that just meant practicing in the yard. They'd done that a lot less recently.

Then there was the fact that the both of them had come from similar backgrounds, ripped away from their homes amongst war and battle. Neither had spoken much about it, other than acknowledging that there would always be those memories before they were Mandalorian.

Hearing his friend cry broke something in him, each little sniffle like the a kal in his chest, prodding him again at her despair. Wasn't often you heard Mandalorians cry, let alone someone as chipper as Sena. She was so kriffing stubborn and prideful that she'd suffered being bullied as a kid because she was unwilling to balk or bend. The only person who seemed to see the emotional side of her was her brother. And in a way, Din was betraying her trust by continuing to listen.

Eventually, Paz got up and headed for the door. He paused, freezing when he saw what had caught in the door, picking it up before heading out and shutting the bedroom with a hydraulic hiss. Din jolted, visor locking with the blue Mandalorian's, wondering what was about to happen.

"Did you-" Paz started.

Din nodded.

" Hukaat'kama ," he ordered, striding out of the house.

Reassembling his rifle, he slung it over his back and sauntered after Paz. There was no question as to where he was going. Night basked them as they stalked their way past the Foundry and toward the Den. Paz's shoulders were set back, chest puffed out, and he moved as if they were on a bounty hunting mission. Halting outside the entrance, Paz rounded so quickly that Din threw his hands up defensively, uncertain if he was about to become the man's fixation while he saw red.

"Go in first. Ping me once you set eyes on him. If I go in, there will be no doubt why I'm there," Paz handed over a small comlink. He didn't need to say the name of the person he was referring to. Din was blatantly aware that they were there for Hyvhast.

Taking the comlink, Din nodded and stepped by him, entering the Den. Set down a few steps in another dome shaped building, the lighting was dim and most was procured by the hearth tables. Small, simulated flames leapt up in the center, horseshoe shaped benches surrounding tables where various mandos put their black ale. A rambunctious group was collected to the far right, his eyes immediately finding the earthen brown armor of Hyvhast which was accentuated with moss green stripes. He was tall and lean, about Din's height, though not as broad. Caught in an animated conversation, Din slid over into a table just flanking to see what it was they were saying.

"So you're not with her anymore?" Mirrair asked, a mando in dusty orange beskar'gam.

"Kriff no! Look, she's a great hunter and has mandokarla , but she's got the body of a 12 year old boy. Hard to tell beneath the armor. Was a huge turn off," Hyvhast announced, immediately met with an awkward silence from his companions. "What? You guys think I'm wrong?"

"Well, she's Sephi, isn't she? Don't they, um, age differently?" Loah was a female mando in tan armor, a few black swirls decorating her helmet.

"If she's got mandokarla , what does it matter if she's flat-chested? You think you're going to find a female mando with a rack here? We're all athletic," Jiabe spoke up, just as affronted as Loah, crossing her arms over her cuirass defensively.

"There's not only that," Hyvhast backpedaled quickly. "She had there weird gold marks all over her skin - almost like tattoos, but they glowed-" Din pressed the comlink, not willing to listen to the bastard detail any more of his friend's body. Especially when his audience was also just as uncomfortable with the subject.

"She's not human," Jiabe stood up, her voice rising. "Where is she? What did you say to her?"

Hyvhast jetted to his feet to meet her challenge. "She went running home. Couldn't take a little honesty."

Jiabe barked a harsh laugh. "Oh you're absolutely shab . Did you really think that Paz wouldn't find out about this?" She jammed her finger in between where the sides of Hyvhast's armor met, hitting flesh. "Who do you think you are? Hunting a vod and then laughing at her, talking to the rest of us about what is beneath her armor? I could give a womp rat's ass how much you supply for the Tribe. Not only have you insulted Clan Vizsla, but you've insulted ever dala in the Tribe."

"Jiabe you're overreacting-" Hyvhast tried to placate her as if calling her hysterical was the right move.

It was not.

Jiabe's fist flew out, catching the man underneath his helmet and directly into his jaw. A sickening crack indicated that something had broken as he flew back, colliding with the back of the couch he had been standing in front of. " Ni cetar'narir kay'shebs ," she threatened, stretching her fingers just as Paz busted into the Den, causing everyone's helmet except for Jiabe's to turn.

"Hyvhast!" Paz howled, shaking the room with the boom of his voice.

The mando only groaned on the couch, still dazed from Jiabe's hook. She had his collar now, dragging his sorry shebs out of the booth and into the aisle where she dumped him to meet the Vizsla. "Think you're looking for this jayc'kovid . Might've stolen the first punch from you," she informed him, glaring down at Hyvhast as he started coming to. "Think I broke his jaw."

Paz was livid, but he did glance over at her slightly in confusion. "Wha-"

"He was talking osik about your vod . No one has the right to express what they see beneath the beskar'gam, even if they do not like it. He affronted all dala in the Tribe by doing so and ridiculing her. But... he insulted Clan Vizsla first. If you wish to repay me for what I have stolen, I shall take it," Jiabe offered honorably, squaring up to him without fear.

" Nayc ," Paz disagreed immediately. " Vor entye . Help me take him out back and we'll call it even."

Honor was pinnacle in the Tribe and as Jiabe had said, Hyvhast had been impudent to assume that betraying the nature of what was beneath the beskar'gam - something so sacred to all of them - with the addition of his audacity to remark about a lack of a chest, was highly insulting to other women who might be self conscious about their features. Din had never really considered it, seeing that everyone except for the Foundlings were in armor, but supposed that Jiabe was right. All the women, except for the retired and elderly, would be physically fit and might not have much of a chest. He'd never particularly found himself staring at Sena's iron heart. That wasn't what was attractive about her.

Paz and Jiabe dragged Hyvhast out as if he were a bag of garbage, undoubtedly for another beat down before they'd dump his shebs at the Med-Deck. His mind went back to the conversation and the fact that Sena had said Anaxian and not Sephi.

"Want anything?" Voormi was behind the bar this evening, gesturing to the only thing they had on tap - black ale.

"I've got a question," he proposed, receiving a nod from her. "Do you know what Anaxians are?"

"Anaxians?" she rocked back on her heels, tilting her lime green helmet as she hummed quietly to herself. "Race, I think. Anaxes used to be a planet before it got turned to rubble in an accident. Don't think it was much of an accident though. Empire was invading the planet."

I snuck up on a stormtrooper and slit his throat...

Those words echoed in his head, thinking back to their blade lessons years ago. Had Naboo been invaded by the Empire? He didn't really know much about what had happened all those years ago, being secluded on Vorp'ya without listening to the adults talking about the news.

"What were they like?"

"Anaxians? Dunno. There were a few native races to that planet. One was reptilian and the other... I think they were sub-human. Can't say. They never traveled off planet, so it's likely they were wiped out entirely when the planet exploded," Voomri shrugged, polishing the counter mindlessly. "Do you want a drink?"

"I'm fine," Din pushed himself to his feet, thinking about the new knowledge. Was it possible that Sena belonged to one of these races? He didn't think she was Reptilian and if he thought really hard, she might've mumbled something once or twice about being a Sephi offshoot and not actually Sephi. Anaxian? Golden markings on her skin? She had markings on her helmet, he wondered if those were supposed to be in relation to what was on her skin. He felt his breath quicken in his chest, imagining beneath the flight suit for a brief moment, the glow of golden teardrops...

Chewing his lip he started for the edge of the village, trekking across the moonlit grass, over the hills and toward the pond shaded by the ancient tree. Cresting the last rise, he froze when she saw a small figure sitting by the edge, legs drawn up to her chest, chin of her helmet on top of her knees as her visor gazed out toward the water which rippled peacefully from a wind that swept down from the moors. The leaves of the tree rustled like breathy chimes, the breeze picking at the edge of her braid and sighing deeply.

Sliding down the hill, he approached her carefully, as not to disturb her, but she sat up and glanced back. He could be stealthy when he wanted, but she'd always been the best out of their entire class. She could move soundlessly, despite how much equipment she was wearing.

"Hey," she offered simply, turning back to the water to continue staring at it, diving back into her thoughts.

Din padded up and sat down beside her, his own visor listing in the direction that she was looking. He wanted to tell her that Hyvhast was blind and an idiot. That he'd never deserved anyone as amazing as her. That he was getting his shebs kicked by Jiabe and Paz. But he didn't. Instead, he just watched the way the moonlight refracted on the mirror surface and wondered what she might look like without any beskar'gam on, wading into the water, the ethereal light playing tricks against her skin. Her hand was tan, he remembered that from when she'd challenged Aya; a deep, coppery tan. Paz knew what she looked like and had called her mesh'la . Those hadn't just been words of comfort, Din actually believed them.

"You alright?" he asked finally after a few minutes of blissful quiet.

Sena rolled her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "I'll get over it," she grumbled, the normal inflection of her voice returning. Din liked her voice, he always had found the articulate accent alluring. As she'd gotten older, it had gotten deeper and less whiny, replaced with a smooth alto, pleasantly curling in his ears with each word. He wished the one time he had heard it without the modulator, she hadn't been crying.

He didn't bring up the subject, didn't pressure her to talk, he only sat there with her, lending her a sense of companionship that went deeper than conversing. After all, she had already told Paz and it wasn't his place to try and force the story out of her. Time dragged on, a soft sigh parting from her lips finally as she contemplated what had happened. Din's hand was in his pocket, thumbing the charm, before he pulled it out. The moonlight hit the beskar Jai'galaar eyes strung on a leather strap. So many years in his pocket, polished constantly from the soothing manner in which he'd palmed it when he thought about his friend.

"Sena-" he cleared his throat, freezing when she sat up to glance over at him.

"Hm?"

"Paz wanted me to give this to you," he said stupidly, lifting up the necklace. "He said it might make you feel better." Maker almighty, why did he say that? Why couldn't he just tell her that he had gotten it for her? She was still recovering from what had happened with Hyvhast and while this felt like the right moment to give it to her, it also felt like the wrong moment to be honest as to why.

She reached up, her gloves brushing lightly against his, causing his skin to tingle underneath as little electric pinpricks lanced up to his elbow. " Jai'galaar eyes?" she muttered, finally taking it. "How befitting-" he could hear the wry smile in her voice as she rolled her shoulders back and cracked them, stringing the necklace around her throat, which was obscured by the collar of her armorweave.

His heart was thumping wildly, as if he were being chased by a mythosaur, while he watched it plunk softly against her durasteel heartplate. The length of the strap dropped it low enough to reach her iron heart. Turning it over in her glove again she shook her head wistfully.

" Kaysh mirsh solus ," she commented. "Not surprised. We Vizslas all have lonely brain cells. He could've just given this to me later."

Din chuckled quietly at her joke. The Tribe did joke lovingly about their nerf-headedness, but Clan Vizsla was well loved despite the teasing. They were a clan of admirable warriors, all of which pulled more than their fair share for the Tribe. "Seems it did do the job."

"Of what?" she tilted her visor back up, her voice reading as confused through his visor.

"Cheering you up," Din pointed out, smiling now.

" Lek well-" she unfurled her legs and stretched her arms straight out above her head. Like a loth-cat in the sun, she shook out the tenseness in her muscles before keeping her legs kicked out, putting palms back on her knees. "Nothing for me to dwell on. Paz was right. Again." Hopping to her feet as if it were the easiest thing to do, she offered him a hand up. "Race you back?" The proposition was an old one, like they were little kids again coming to practice beneath the moonlight. There had been many times where Din had attempted to climb the tree with as much dexterity as her and had jammed his finger.

Gripping her forearm, he was wrenched to his feet, glancing up the steep hill. " Elek -" they both bolted off, Din getting to higher ground before Sena. She wasn't far behind, closing the distance with her dark pine green cloak snapping after her like an angry bird's wing. They were beskar and durasteel javelins against the grass. Just as she had done when they were younger, she let out the strange sort of baying yip, which caused Din to trip over his own feet and go down hard in the grass. Rounding and absolutely howling with laughter, she clutched her stomach as he tried to untangle himself from his cloak. Before he could even say anything, she turned back around and continued - with her lead - back to the village.

Din thrashed before managing to spring back to his feet, but it was too late. He'd given her too much time and she had vanished into the night. Grousing to himself, he wasn't entirely upset that he had lost, pleased that she had recovered in light of the awful evening she'd had until that point. He wondered if the animal cry she kept making was from Anaxes.

2BBY

"And then a giant bird swooped down from the sky and gnashed its beak. OMNOMNOM! " Sena roared, snapping her fingers to mimic a bird's impressive beak and digging it playfully toward the tummies of the Foundlings that surrounded her in a horseshoe formation. Her duties in watching the children had long since passed now that she was a fully fledged hunter and provider for the Tribe. However, she did like to stop by after missions and greet them with candy and treats she had picked up from whatever planet she visited. Usually the flavors and types changed, which always thrilled the little womp rats.

Giggling and squealing ensued as she tickled them, before they realized they could overwhelm her in one fell move. Tackling her to the ground, piling in a heap, she was pinned to the ground. Even if she'd finally stopped growing after all these years, she still was barely 45 kilos soaking wet. A dozen children were more than enough to take her out of commission.

" Ori'vod ! Where's our candy?" a gap tooth child demanded, as if she'd forget.

"Oh, I totally forgot," Sena betrayed whimsically, the children shrieking like jai'galaar at her confession.

"You didn't forget. It's right here," Zim held up the bag, now 15, and donning a helmet of his own. His lekku poked out from the modified bucket and he had painted it the same colors that Sena originally had hers - plum and dull yellow. "Back you beasts! I'll give it to you if you release our Ori'vod !"

The little zombies abandoned her, trailing after Zim who was on Foundling duty. Sena sat up, chuckling as he began tossing the candy, letting it rain down above them, distracting the little brats.

"You spoil them too much," Din commented, having just entered the Nursery to see the war raging. Sena tilted her head back from where she was laying on the floor.

"Oh lek ? What have you got in that bag behind your back?" she challenged, snickering as he tucked it behind his cloak as if he were ashamed that she'd caught him bringing treats for the kids. "Nice to see you, vod . How was your hunt?"

Din trotted down to help her to her feet. She dusted her armor off, frowning at all the scratches and dents on it. Since it wasn't pure beskar, came with the territory. Needed a good repainting. Beskar was harder to come by now with the Empire still being a load of osik . "Not too bad. Nearly threw my shoulder out since the bounty was trandoshan-" he let out a soft noise, which she knew was a laugh, his modulator never really picked it up right. "And you? Seems the candy is a hit this time."

This time. The last planet she'd gone to she hadn't bothered to taste the candy first. If she had, she would have realized it was flavored like krill and squid. Yeah, she'd felt quite bad as the kids began spitting out the gummies and gave her the most reproachful looks. Since then, she always made certain to try the sweets before committing to buying a bag full. "Easy enough... Well, actually-" she drew in a long winded breath. "-Jace gave me a bit more trouble than usual. Was trying to keep me on Dadrus longer than usual. He's always flirted with me, but it was really strange-"

"Need me to give your Guild Master a stern talking to?" Din gestured to his blaster.

Sena gave a good natured laugh. Din had nearly become part of Clan Vizsla by this point. He was close to her brother and went on quite a few hunts with him. She preferred to work alone, since Paz was way too kriffing loud. Their rivalry, while still there, had turned into a deep friendship that she wouldn't trade for anything in the galaxy. It was different than Xivi and her other friends. Din just... understood. They didn't even have to talk about, there was comfort in the silent nights by the moon pool just contemplating their lives. "Oh, no. He's a good person. Just a chatterbox."

"You say that as if you're not," Din pointed out.

"I'm not when I'm out in the field," she grumbled with a petulant frown. Sena liked to believe she was imposing, mysterious, and intimidating when she went out - armed to the teeth and speaking in short sentences. Maybe not. She did talk to Jace quite a bit since she'd known him for years now and still thought he was cute. The man had tried a few times to convince her to sleep with him, but Sena wasn't about to mix work with pleasure. Bad for business. Not to mention she'd sort of taken a step away from that life for now, focusing on doing her job, and not repeating what had happened with Hyvhast. Even if she'd grown into her skin now, she still felt highly insecure about her Goddess Markings as Hyvhast had poked at them and asked her what the kriff they were.

"What have you got for us, Ori'vod ?" a child had taken notice of Din now, standing in the play area.

Din pulled the bag out and opened it, crouching down to reveal little toys in the shape of little fish. Each was about the size of a child's palm and brilliantly painted. "They're-"

BOOM!

The Nursery shook, children screaming around them as they huddled close to the nearest armored warrior. Sena had several clutching her legs, trembling as their helmets snapped toward the door. Instincts kicking in, Sena whipped her head to Zim who dropped the bag of remaining candy. "Get the children to the back door, wait until our command to beeline for the extraction point," she barked, thrusting a comlink into Zim's hands before she slipped out of the grasp of the kids. Din was beside her, sprinting for the door as they drew their weapons.

The covert was consumed in absolute chaos. Imperial ships were descending from the grey sky, a convoy of troopers having already landed and prowling through the streets. They had been taken by surprise, Mandalorians quickly making their stands and barking orders in Mando'a as they tried to grab onto a semblance of cohesion and shake away the confusion. This only took a few minutes, as they were all trained in military tactics and how to react in situations like this. There was a strict set of instructions ingrained in everyone's mind from Foundling to Elder.

Trainees or Vod'ika would rally up the Elders and Foundlings. The youngest hunters, beneath the age of 21 would act as escorts and leaders, taking leash on their biggest ship the Cabur. Once the young and old were on the ship, they would get into hyperspace while the remainder of the Tribe protected them. Both Din and Sena were older than 21 and thus would act as soldiers on the field to protect the future of the Tribe.

Her blood rushed, the sight of the stormtroopers bringing back the memories of Anaxes, her heart pounding steadily like a war drum. She'd murder them all. Kill them, revive them, then kill them again for what they'd done to not only Genmaris, but now the Tribe. The shootout began, they needed to get around the back of the Nursery and clear the path for Zim to escape with the children. Raising her pistol, she shot the nearest snow white soldier in the face, aiming purposely for his eyes. She could wield a rifle or shotgun now if she pleased, but she'd always liked the pistol better. The years of practicing only with the sidearm had made her a spectacular shot. In a close combat arena like this, Sena was in her element.

" Hukaat'kama! " she called to Din, drawing Cu'Sith and Pog-Sticker.

" Oya !" he shouted back between the ringing of blaster fire and explosions.

She had never forgotten the way they had spilled blood on the elas stone. The blood of a peaceful people who lived in the forest. Or the way she'd walked through it barefoot. Moving like a dervish, she dashed forward with primal rage, the curve of her swords - now beskar - reaving through the plastoid armor as if it were made of butter. They were slow, sloppy, and weaker than the soldiers from a decade ago. These were not clone troopers. Nor did they speak Mando'a. Grinning at the realization, she ducked gracefully, cutting the soleus on the back of the trooper's exposed calf. She heard a cry, watched him stumble forward, and then beheaded him.

Her vindication was not uncommon amongst the Tribe, just one of the most brutal and bloody. She spotted her brother letting off his heavy blaster, mowing down troopers. Despite how well they seemed to be doing, it all came down to supplies. How long would it be until they ran out of energy and ammo? Before a tidal wave of white snow weathered them down in a blizzard that they couldn't dig themselves out of? They had to flee, because there were several more dropships coming. But most importantly, the children needed to escape.

She sliced down a few more troopers before racing back around the Nursery, Din covering her as they began clearing the path for the children. The ships were stowed beneath ground, in a hangar that would part the grass and open. They had been on Vorp'ya for many years now and continued to upgrade their home to make it more difficult to be discovered. Didn't seem to matter now. Pulling her comlink, she spoke briskly in Mando'a, " Bring them out. We're clear for now ."

" Roger ," Zim answered, the door opening. Lined up and hands linked, the children had also been trained on what to do. They were to stay together in a chain, holding onto the leader, which was Zim.

Other trainees had begun posting, fleeing the main fight to help keep the path to the ships open. There was no time to feel the pride of their unflinching resolve, but the kids were doing what they were trained to do. Despite how loud, how terrifying it all was, the young Mandalorians spoke in hand signals, bringing up the rear before entering the bunker entrance that led down below to the ships. Zim disappeared and Sena rounded as the last of the Elders were escorted below. Her eyes trailed back up to see how many ships there were, horrified as she and Din took up defensive positions around the hangar doors. This would be their last stand area. She wished she had the time to retrieve her traps from her home, but this was a surprise attack.

Eventually, the rest of the Tribe began to fall back to the hangars, the first ship, the Cabur departing with the children and elderly. Sucking her teeth, she hoped there would still be enough time and coverage for more of them to escape off planet. But as she watched, she grit her teeth, wanting nothing more than to kill than hide. That's what would happen after this, they would hide away again. The number falling back was pitiful and Sena's heart plummeted in horror. Paz was dragging their buir beside him, some - but not all - of the injured fleeing into the tunnels. They weren't going to be able to escape, not with this many drop ships coming in.

"Look!" Kedth pointed toward the sky, ships zooming down to meet the Imperial ships. Who they were, she had no idea, not until they started to jet out of the droppers with jetpacks. Sena had never been so happy to see foreign Mandalorians as she was now, choking out a thankful sob. Continuing to fight through the avalanche of stormtroopers, the ceaseless flow of them started to weather down, the verdant grass spattered with red, downtrodden beyond the point of recognition.

The other mandos were beginning to approach them, thanking the Maker that someone knew about them and had come to their support. A tug on the back of her cloak made her turn, the weary smile disappearing immediately when she saw the terse line of her brother's shoulders. Panic set in, replacing the original thrill of battle, remembering that her buir had been injured when he arrived. Stomach churning, she sprinted after him, down the stars and to where the injured were being tended. Her eyes stretched wide, watching the blood pool beneath her adopted father from a gash in his side where the heartplate did not meet.

Collapsing in a heap beside him, she pressed her gloves to his wound in a futile attempt to staunch the flow. He had lost too much and the majority of the bacta had been taken with the Foundlings and Elders. "No! You can't! Not you too!" her voice betrayed her, cracking as she saw the visage of her papa turning around, the golden lightsaber illuminating his hands as he marched to his death. Hux had become her father, the man that had finished raising her and in every way, her papa now. Everything that she had become was thanks to Hux, his steady hand, his temper, and his love.

"Stay strong, cyar'ika ," he muttered, voice distant and fading, cracked and weak. "I'm so proud. So proud of the warriors that I raised."

Paz was beside her now, fallen to his knees as they had their final moments with their buir .

"You know... the place, Paz. Sova's beskar'gam ... my beskar'gam ... inheritance," he was struggling to talk now, his chest rising and falling shallowly, a soft groan parting his lips beneath his helmet. Paz leaned forward, removing it so that they could look upon their father, see the light in his icy eyes. Pale blonde hair was striked with grey now, the faint line of a golden beard against his jaw. His lashes were heavy, fluttering open just enough gaze at them, a faint smile gracing his features. "Love you. I love the both of you."

A primal, animalistic cry escaped her as Hux closed his eyes for the final time. Paz leaned against her, pressing her face into his pauldron as she sobbed as hard as she had when she was a princess fleeing Anaxes. Maybe even harder. She couldn't hear anything but her own misery. How many people would die around her that she loved? All because of the Empire. This was the Empire's fault! Her hatred redoubled, unaware that she could hate something even more and with every fiber of her being. They sat there on the cold floor, grieving for their fallen buir and for the others that had lost their lives in the assault. Hux was not the only one.

Amongst the fallen was Aya, Vowr, Xaevo, Vhic, Bhone, Crehl, Khaan, Durr, the Smith, and Drold. Their bodies were lined up in the hangar, resting in their eternal vigil, going up to Manda. Despite the honor it was to fall in battle, Sena couldn’t help but feel as if it had all been a waste. So much training, so much love in the Tribe and the Empire tried to smote them from the galaxy. They hadn’t done anything. They had kept their noses out of anything Imperial. Not anymore. Sena wasn’t going to let them walk away from this.

“Sen’ika,” Paz was just as hoarse as she was, but they were standing in the Kote. “What buir was referring to was his riduur ’s armor. My mother-” he opened a panel to reveal the full suit of plum beskar’gam . “He always intended for you to inherit it one day. Just as you inherited her helmet.”

Sena gazed at it, all beskar, and in need of a good repaint. Her fingers slid against it, the feminine curve of the heart plate, the ensemble of pauldrons, cuisse, and greaves. The vambraces were missing and when she glanced at her own arms, she comprehended why. She hadn’t realized that Hux had given her Sova’s vambraces after her Second Trial. She had just assumed that there was beskar to spare for the newest hunters to forge their vambraces since they were so important. Licking her lips, she tilted her visor up toward her brother. “The other mandos here-”

“They came from Mandalore. They are looking for help. The Empire is attempting to take the smaller planets in the system first before attacking Manda’yaim .”

“I’m going,” Sena decided without hesitation. “I’m going to fight.”

Paz’s shoulders slumped slightly, the defeat of losing their father and now the idea of losing his sister too heavy for even his broad, masculine figure. But he did not try to convince her otherwise. “Too many died today. They will need guidance-”

“ Ori’vod you don’t need to explain to me why the Tribe needs you. I know they need you. I do not think any less than you, but… you understand why I must go,” Sena was picking up the armor now, beginning to replace her durasteel with Sova’s - no… it was hers not by right. “Twice now. Twice. Only this time I can fight. I can help. I will not turn my back on another battle with them. Not now. Not ever again.”

“You will bring much honor to the Tribe,” he announced, but he was choked up, grabbing her and thrusting his helmet against hers. There was an unspoken acknowledgement, the fact that they both knew that Sena probably wasn’t coming back.

“I will keep in contact with you if I can. I’ll send transmissions to the Kote ,” she promised, the words hollow on the back of her throat as she said them. “ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ori’vod .”

“ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum ,” he returned. “You better come back. I need nieces and nephews running underfoot one day. With those stupid pointed ears just like yours.”

Sena barked a laugh that was halfway in between a sob. After shedding her durasteel armor, mismatched, she embraced her brother once more before heading down the dock. The hangar was a makeshift base of operation as the injured were tended and the other Mandalorians commented about how the planet was going to be overwhelmed soon. They needed to pick up and leave immediately. The Tribe was unwilling to help, picking up the fractured pieces of their people, weeping for those who were now marching. Legs churned mechanically, she glanced over at Din as he bowed before his buir who was just as still as her own. Lower lip quivering, she decided to say her farewell to her friend.

Placing a hand on his back, she crouched beside him, his visor snapping as he tensed immediately. It took him a moment to see clearly, to finally see that it was her. And then he glanced down at the plum beskar’gam and eventually back up to her visor. “I’m leaving,” she told him calmly. Such a strange calm, like the eye of the storm before the hurricane hit. “I am going to fight for Manda’yaim .”

Din did not speak. She had long grown accustomed to his silent contemplation. He wasn’t daft, he was just as quiet as he had always been. “You’re leaving?” But there was too much grief, too much confusion for him to understand properly that evening.

She nodded slowly. “I can’t turn my back on the Empire again. Not when I can fight against them. I will be joining our vod in the coming battles,” she announced. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

Din stared and she didn’t know if he were in shock or if he were just being his normal, reserved self. “When will you come back?”

A shaky smile formed beneath the cover of her bucket. “We’ll meet again. Even if that is marching in Manda’s halls,” she promised, standing up. “Take care of my brother, please.”

“Sena-”

“I have to go. Ret'urcye mhi .”

9ABY

Maybe we will meet again. Din had clung to those words in Mando’a for so many years, desperately hoping that the visage of his favorite vod would pop back up, insult him, and maybe toss a middle finger in for good measure. Never happened. As the years weathered on, one becoming two, becoming four, becoming five , he had started to lose hope. Everyone had heard about The Great Purge and the decimation of Mandalore. He didn’t like to think like this, but he expected that was probably where Sena had died. His thoughts tormented him, how he’d been too choked up with everything going on that he hadn’t even been able to tell her how he felt. Watching her turn around in mismatched beskar’gam before walking away with the foreign Mandalorians. He hadn’t told her that he loved her and now he’d never be able to. Paz still believed she was coming home, but after more than a decade, Din was convinced otherwise. The war was over. If there was any hope that Senaar Vizsla would return to the Tribe, it would have been four years ago.

The loss gouged at him deeper than he thought it ever could. His original comfort around the Tribe faded, replaced with the sorrow of seeing the Foundlings, remembering how she used to play with them, bring them candy, and tickle the life out of them. Walking through those empty, sewer halls in Nevarro, he was a shell of armor with nothing but a ghost inside. Provide. That’s all he did. He provided for the Tribe as he always had, leaving for long bouts of time and returning to drop off the supplies before going out again. This had become his typical routine, ignoring the other Mandalorians until he’d all but estranged every single one. Paz had been the first. The Vizsla’s insistence that Sena was still out there was so misplaced and gut wrenching that Din couldn’t stand to be around him. She was dead.

He thought back often to their peaceful upbringing on Vorp’ya and of all the things he should have done. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and if Din had another chance, he would have told her how he felt back when he first gave her the Jai’galaar necklace. Even if she still insisted on leaving come the demise of their covert, at least he would have had those years with her. To take care of her, to love her, to kiss her, and to make her feel as if she were the most mesh’la creature in the universe. He was haunted by his memories and his yearning, so it was easier to turn his emotions off. Even at all these years, he could still hear her stupid howling in the moonlight, her guffawing, and her cultured, articulate accent. What he would give just to hear her again, to listen to the hum of her rich voice as he fell asleep.

Din Djarin was a brokenhearted man with little to live for. He’d been like this for a while, trying to carve out the rest of his 20s amongst Malk’s crew to find a little lust for life. Worked for a bit, but Xi’an was a cheap version of Sena. Her expertise with blades, while adept, still wasn’t as adept as Sena. She also had a piss poor attitude. After that, he’d stopped trying to date, because it was always a comparison and his memories warped - placing Sena on a pedestal and forgetting how goofy or stupid she could be at times.

He’d dropped the Mythrol off before heading down below to the covert. Wasn’t often that he felt like lingering down there for more than a day, but he went there anyway. He had a small set of quarters that collected dust. The Razor Crest was his home for the most part, away, quiet, and transportable. Still, he kept some meager supplies in his apartment. Which, you couldn’t really call it an apartment. It was just a recess built into the sewers that was large enough to fit a table, a small kitchenette, and a bunk. All of which were stuffed like tuna in a can with barely any room to move. This was not Vorp’ya where they had large karyai in each house. Punching the code into the door, it puffed open, and his visor shifted to the almost darkness.

Stepping in, his head cocked, staring at the small light in the corner that was on. He’d not been in here for months. Why would a light be on? Cold metal pressed to his throat, a soft tut escaping his captor’s lips. “That was very careless of you.”

Din almost threw up at the sound of the silken voice, spinning around and throwing the Mandalorian against the wall. They moved lazily, allowing for themself to be captured as he pinned them against the wall. The armor was the wrong color, not green and not mismatched as he had last witnessed it. Instead, it was a dusky grey-blue accented by stripes of ashy black, burnished to the point where it glimmered magnificently even in the dull light of the tomb-like room. The helmet was painted with strange markings, akin to those patterns on a loth-wolf’s face. Emblazoned on the left pauldron was the rebel insignia - no, it was the New Republic insignia now. Whereas on the right, where the aliit marking went was the trademark Jai’galaar eyes of Clan Vizsla. Several blades, a midnight blue cloak, and a relaxed confidence that set his teeth on end as if she hadn’t been gone for so many years and this was a mischievous game of tag around the village where she’d managed to sneak up on him again.

“Sena?”

“Huh, where?” she glanced around, the tuft of her dark braid coming into view as she mocked him.

“But you-”

“Dead? Missing? Gone marching such a long time ago?” she filled in impishly.

“ How ?”

“I fought and we won,” she said as if it were that simple. “I told Paz to keep you updated with my whereabouts. I thought he would have.”

His stomach sank and he released her. Din had estranged Paz, sick of hearing that Sena was alive without any proof. He had believed that the man was in denial over his sister’s death, but here she stood, in New Republic glory. “The war has been over for years,” he found the chair at the small table, falling into it as he tried to rationalize what had happened. Everything was crashing down around him, his head aching just as much as his heart as she stood there, sheathing her blade and cocking a hand on the hilt.

“War might’ve been over, but I still had people to track down and kill. There’s still a lot to be done, but I knew it was finally time to come home,” she sat down across from him, clasping her hands together as she propped her elbows on her legs and sighed deeply. He saw the necklace he had given her swing forward from her iron heart. “There’s still remnants out there and I did everything in my power to work on killing every last one of them.”

He believed that. “I-” he was overwhelmed, all those pent up emotions, all those things he’d wanted to say but assumed he would never get the chance bubbling up to the surface. Originally, he would have given anything to tell her how he felt and now that he had the opportunity, the back of his throat felt so incredibly parched. “I missed you,” he said finally, cursing himself for not saying the other words, but it was a start. His emotions had been shoved into a tiny box, locked up and he’d thrown away the key years ago.

“Missed you too, shebs ,” she snickered, but despite the humor in her voice, he could feel… something else.

Silence settled between them, but not the typical silence that they had found comfort in when growing up. No, this was deeper and more profound and distinctly uncomfortable. His heart was hammering in his chest and he wondered why she had approached him like this. She could have just greeted him in the Foundry where he’d been earlier.

“I can - uhm, come back later. I know you just got back from a hunt,” she offered, standing up.

Din flew from his chair, unwilling to let her slip away, to let her go a second time. He caught her hand, holding it between his gloves, staring at the detailing in the leather and the seams. Heat blossomed in his throat, grinding his voice as he spoke, “Don’t.”

Visor tilting up toward him, her head listed slightly to the side where she gazed at him, questioning. “Are you certain?” she asked tenderly, her inquiry holding much more depth.

He ran his hand underneath the collar of her flight suit, brushing the edge of her helmet, before coming down to grip the spot between the pauldron and heartplate where flesh was instead of armor. Grip tightening, his chest constricted slightly at the feel - the real feel of her beneath his gloves. Emboldened by her leaning into his touch, Din released her hand and slid against her hip, hot flames of desire licking his body and causing him to shudder at the merest touch to her fully armored frame. He looked back to her, wondering if this were permissible, if he was allowed to do this or if he had overstepped the boundaries of their friendship. That’s not what he wanted and he wouldn’t make the same mistake of doing it again.

“Din,” it had been so long since anyone had actually called him by his name. “I know it was you who gifted me the necklace and not my brother. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was afraid.”

“ You were afraid?” she poked the bear, her voice absolutely astonished by his confession.

“I was afraid to push you away and it didn’t matter in the end. I lost you to the war,” Din answered. “After what happened with Hyvhast, I thought you wouldn’t be-”

“Interested? Dank farrik you think too much,” she grumbled warmly. “If there was anyone in the Tribe that I actually felt comfortable being myself entirely, it was you, Din. I just assumed you had never thought of me like that. I mean, I was sort of annoying.”

“Sort of?”

“ OK, I was very annoying.”

He pulled her closer, her hips to his now, grinding up against her slightly. The touch made his skin dance, pulses of lightning lancing across his body as he let out a soft, trembling sigh. “Let me-” he started, voice cracking at the very idea of what he was about to offer, “-take care of you. Please .”

“Five minutes and I’ve already got you begging? You’re a changed man, Djarin,” Sena teased, but she hadn’t pulled away. Instead she leaned into him, pressing against his growing hardness, letting out a breathy huff which crackled in her vocoder. “I just-” she cleared her throat, aroused, but also worried. “Since Hyvhast, I never-”

Din groaned at the idea. Sena having been entirely alone during war, focusing on her hatred for the Empire rather than satisfying herself. The heat between his legs twitched more, which was pushed against her. If she felt it, she said nothing, only staring up at him with her palms against his red durasteel armor. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised, dragging the pad of his thumb against the collar of her shirt, exposing her copper throat. Tilting her head back, he saw the faintly glowing marks, like tiny golden dew drops that ran against the hollow and disappeared beneath the fabric. Even that small bit of skin was more than enough for him. “ Mesh’la. ”

“I trust you,” she whispered, handing herself over entirely as he ran his fingers down her hips, and picked her up.

It all felt like a dream, one he’d had many times before, but one that he’d never been able to place. Hands gripping her ass, he could feel the well sculpted muscles, the definition of a honed warrior, and her quivering in his palms. He set her on the bed, throwing his gloves off as if they were offensive, pressing his helmet to hers in an insistent, belabored keldabe kiss. Stars, he should have done that when they were young and not for the first time now. Stripping her armor, piece by piece, he slid the fabric down to expose her gorgeous skin. Whatever Hyvhast had said was wrong. Ripping it down he exposed the breast band and more of the dazzling markings, so many of them. She was slender, more than most humans, but he didn’t think she was shapeless. Lanced by scars from her years, her skin was smooth, pebbling beneath his calloused fingertips. Narrow waist, stomach punctuated by the line of her muscles, the bottoming of wide hips which disappeared beneath her belt and trousers.

His eyes traced the markings that she’d been insulted for, the way they trailed down her throat, danced against her collarbone and shoulders, curved beneath the bra and were obscured from his prying gaze. “Can I?” he entreated, aware that she might still be self conscious about it all and the last thing he wanted to do was push her away. He watched her swallow hard and nod. Hook by hook, his fingers trembled, before he dropped the fabric and exposed more of her to the dry, mild air of Nevarro’s underground. Small, soft breasts greeted him, not enough to fill his palms, but befitting of her natural frame, dark maroon nipples puckering as he grazed one, watching in intrigue as they stiffened into small peaks, so pretty and perfect.

“Din, I-” she warbled quietly, the original confidence disappearing in an instance and it broke his heart hearing her like this.

“ Mesh’la, ” he repeated with stern insistency, cradling her breast tenderly. “So fucking perfect-” the words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them, but he meant every one.

She let out a soft moan, leaning into his hand.

He traced circles around her skin, chasing the golden marks against her warm flesh, watching as each tiny movement sent chills across her body. Resting her against the bed as he followed the teardrops that cradled her breasts, he wondered how anyone could have found her unattractive. The beautiful copper of her skin, the contrast of the soft marks that had an ethereal hum as if the sun itself had dripped golden fire and graced her with its light. Finally, after minutes of wandering her upper body, he undid the buckle to her pants, discarding it to have her trembling slightly in just her underwear. Just as his hands had told him earlier, she had full legs, years of stealth and crouching, her ability to jump as if she were a nexu, and to land gracefully from extreme heights without injuring herself. The curve of her hips bottomed out and Din was entransed, caressing her ass, finding more of the golden marks as they flanked the outside of her leg and burned a wake to the tops of her feet.

“I-I dreamed about this,” he told her, resolve crumbling as his index fingers glided down her stomach and against the hollow of her hip. He’d been quiet for decades, resenting himself for his silence. “If I ever saw you again, what I’d tell you. Wh-what I’d do to you. Was always so afraid to push you away.”

“What’s changed now?”

Din laughed at her question, the same soft laugh that fizzled out through the vocoder, not quite being picked up properly. “Nothing changed. Not how I feel. Just… Circumstances. Regrets. Things I never said when I should have. That I-”

“Not yet,” she interrupted. “It’s been 10 years. Let’s enjoy this now and talk after. There’s a lot to talk about. But not now-” Not when he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Not when all he wanted to do was praise her and love her. Even if she wouldn’t let him say it just yet, he fully intended on showing her what their separation had done to him. He wasn’t inexperienced by any means, but it had been a long while, never feeling the urge to do more than palm himself for relief, often dreaming of how he’d remembered her. Now she was here, spread out on his bed against the woolen comforter, her chest rising and falling quickly as he flicked the edge of her underwear.

It had been over 10 years and in his haste, the little box he’d locked and thrown the key away for, had burst open. He smirked at the irony of Sena being the wiser one for once, warning him to be careful of what he said, for they might not be the same people. Somehow, he doubted that.

Pulling the underwear off, he drank in the vision of her nude aside from her helmet. Neither of them could remove it, not unless they exchanged riduurok and she had been correct. There was much to discuss, like what had happened during the war and what their future might hold. Their future. Din had been living life day by day, never thinking of what might be waiting for him in one year or two or ten. Soft dark hair painted the top of her mound, fingertips cruising toward the bundle of nerves as she squirmed at the touch. He wanted to taste her, to feel her plush skin against his face, and to bite every since golden drop upon her skin as if he were a parched settler on Tatooine desperate for water.

Finally, he drew his fingers beneath her legs, slicking them against her wetness, astonished by how wet she actually was. “All this for me? I’m beginning to think you liked me a lot more than you ever let on,” Din purred to her disdain, watching her jerk her chin up and expose the hollow of her throat. “Or that you’ve just been pent up from never being pleasured. Dripping - waiting for someone to take it-” he slid his middle finger in with ease, a soft yelp crackling through her modulator as her back arched. Despite her hourglass frame, she was still small and light boned, part of him worried that he’d not be able to do much more than play with her.

“I might’ve done this sooner if I knew how much you talked,” Sena gritted out through her teeth.

He pumped into her, bowing over her and taking her breast in his free hand. Grinding his helmet against hers, he listened to the soft noises that the modulator wasn’t catching quite right, her back arching as he placed another finger in. “I can be quiet if you want,” he doubted it, but decided to threaten silence to see what she would do.

“Kriff! Please don’t,” she whined, her voice hitching as he thumbed her clit. “Keep talking. I like it. I - ahhh ,” he found the spot, pinching her nipple as he quickened his pace on her bud.

“That’s it. Be a good girl, come for me. You like it right there, don’t you?” he pressed harder, a shudder overcoming her body as she gripped his heartplate. “Fuck-” his cock throbbed painfully, stealing his breath away for a moment as he listened to her titullating response to his stimulation.

“Can you take it off?” she asked between her belabored breathing. “The beskar’gam -”

He had been so riveted by her, snared in the trap that was her body, that he’d forgotten entirely that he still had everything on, weapons included. Only his gloves had been shed, fingers deep in her warmth and clutching her chest as he unraveled her string by string. Removing his hand, she whimpered at the loss of the pleasure, pressing her thighs together as Din ripped off his own attire without an afterthought. The years of being covered head to toe, unwilling to let anyone look at so much as his hand, barely a consideration as she laid out bare for him. He’d already made this decision a long time ago, piling the armor on the ground, chest heaving as he bent back down over her, picking up where he left off.

Her fingers pushed against him, calloused pads in the dark hair on his chest, tracing the muscles of his pecs, between his breastbone before tracing down his stomach. Each gently, tentative touch as she came to remember him, but in a new way. Her palm flushed just beneath his abdomen, causing him to tense involuntarily, his own breath getting caught in the back of his throat as she ghosted over his pelvis. Distracted by her roaming hands, he fixated, hyperfocusing before he coated his fingers again in her heat and began working to prove to her what he felt.

Sena’s skin was on fire, the rough fingertips of her childhood friend and rival causing her to make all sorts of noises she’d never known were stored in her. Paz had told her years ago, during their brief transmissions while at war, that the necklace had been a gift Din had been holding onto for years before actually giving it to her. The knowledge of that had made her blubber like a baby - because Sena cried all the kriffing time. As a kid, as a teenager, as an adult… The fact that the unpainted idiot had never told her how he felt, that weighed heavy on her shoulders for years. Because if she had known, she might’ve never gone to war. The original question her brother had asked had been ill placed. When she was 16, she wasn’t thinking of romance, but by the time the covert had been attacked on Vorp’ya… if Din had asked her, she would have said yes. Back then, he had basically been a part of Clan Vizsla from how often he had been around. While they pestered one another, the original terse rivalry had been replaced with a different kind of friendship. Both of them had been too afraid to acknowledge it and Sena was still battling with the idea that no one would ever find her body attractive. What if Din had thought the same? She wouldn’t have been able to hide her embarrassment if he had scorned her too when finally glimpsing what was beneath her armor.

She didn’t feel like that now as his helmet met hers and his hands were between her legs. For what felt like an hour he explored her, tracing the Goddess Markings on her skin, praising her. And fuck did that turn her on. Hearing someone say that she was beautiful, that everything about her was absolutely perfect. His hot baritone in her ear, the slight fumbling of his words as they fell out of his mouth in the most uncontrolled manner she’d ever heard, losing all restriction behind closed doors. She’d never known it could feel like this, his expert fingers making her weak, the very warmth of his body so close to hers a comfort that she had so desperately missed. They’d never been close like this, but Goddess she had wanted it so badly after Paz had told her about the necklace. There hadn’t been any time for pleasure during war, but she did think about it in her dreams when she tried to escape the harsh reality around her. Dreaming faintly of the silver beskar helmet of her old friend, thumbing the Jai’galaar eyes, and hoping that he might be waiting for her back with the Tribe. The very necklace was frigid against the hollow of her chest now, shifting as she moaned, the muscles in her legs tensing and her toes curling.

“That’s it, mesh’la, howl for me. Howl like you did by the moonpool, in the trees, howl for me ,” he insisted, her alto cutting off as a wave of white noise and numbness began to edge at her being. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do much more than push her helmet back into the pillow as the overwhelming pressure built up in her sent swells of ecstasy coursing through every fiber of her being. The cry came after, while her body was still riding the intoxication, like she was floating amongst the starlight without a ship, out of her own body and adrift as her eyes remained shut. “So perfect,” he muttered against her, removing his fingers as her bundle of nerves twitched, oversensitive and grounding her back to reality as she tried to suck in a few strangled breaths.

“D-Din, that was-” she was stammering, unable to catch her voice as it ran away from her with the orgasm, making her sound pitifully tinny.

“Was it what you imagined?” he asked, his voice quiet again.

“I didn’t know what to imagine,” she admitted dolefully. Sena had touched herself before, but it had never felt that good. Someone else’s fingers gliding over her, the arousing words in her ears, the feeling of proximity which set her teeth on end and skin crawling in just the right way. It was lovely and it was real, not just a string of thoughts and what-ifs. No fear of being caught with her hands in her pants while trying to get some shut eye and relieve the tension in her shoulders - the obviously palpable tension from the stress of being at war for so many years. Her eyes listed down, noticing his massive hardness, somewhat terrified of being speared on the end of it. His fingers had filled her up and she could only fathom what his cock might do to her. “What about-”

“Do you want me to?”

She moaned gently, still taken aback by how careful he was being with her. They were both in their fucking 30s and she was the blatantly inexperienced one. Yet, here he was being so tender, despite how much his hardon had to be bothering him. Pleasure wouldn’t come without a bit of pain first and Sena, while afraid, knew that it wouldn’t kill her. Nodding, she reached down and grasped him, her fingers unable to fully encircle his girth. He was tacky from where his own wet fingers had fisted himself, her juice smeared along his length as she stroked him once. His helmet ground into hers more, a deep rumble in the back of his throat which she could hear in her ear.

“Are you certain ?” he challenged this time, spitting the words out in the same dark manner as he had when talking to her amidst his playing. “If you’ve never-”

“I’ve been hurt worse before, Djarin. I think I can handle a little temporary discomfort,” she retorted thinly, stroking him again, enjoying the way that he bucked against her. “I know how this all works.” She’d just not experienced it. While she appreciated how careful he was being, she didn’t need to be fully coddled.

He brushed between her legs again, the gesture making her tighten when his fingertips touched her swollen bud. “You might think you know,” he started, positioning himself above her, jerking her hips toward his. “But I don’t think you do.” The weeping head of his manhood met her folds, lathing it in her wetness before he tested against her slightly. With one glance, she knew that he was going to absolutely split her open, her hips dwarfed by him and her sex quivering at the idea of trying to accomodate him. He began to ease against her resistance. She chewed her lips raw, trying not to cry out as he moved in and then out, coating himself and trying to make progress, centimeter by gruelling centimeter. Her own hands were clutching her breasts, pinching her own nipples in a futile attempt to distract herself. “Sena-” his visor tilted up. “You need to relax or this isn’t going to work.”

Relax? Relax? He was literally stabbing her between her legs, how could she relax? Her chest heaved in short, panicked breaths before she scrunched her eyes shut trying to calm herself down. A hand rubbed against her stomach, soothing in small circles. This wasn’t at all like what she had witnessed on Tatooine. This was an agreement between two people who cared for each other. She let out a long exhale and loosened her grip on her aching nipples. Din pushed into her entirely, filling her to the brim, stretching her and breaking past the initial discomfort. While it still hurt a bit, she adjusted her hips and let out a quiet mewl as he froze, head bowed, buried to the hilt.

“Dank farrik,” he cursed, gazing down at Sena’s copper body, his cock sunk into her warmth, her silken walls quivering around him as he gripped her hips. Even if she’d calmed down for a brief moment, at his words she’d tensed again and squeezed his cock. Din gasped, muttering in Mando’a to himself, absolutely blissed out in the moment. “S-so good. Yo-you feel s-so good,” he managed, finally finding the willpower to glide out and back in.

“Was it what you imagined?” she asked in a faint voice, her articulate accent raking electricity down his spine. That kriffing voice. He could listen to it all day, even if she was saying the most stupid, pointless things.

Din’s jaw slackened and he managed a choked laugh. “Better,” he swore, craning back down, caging her body beneath him as he moved with no insistency. With little intention of hurting her, their reunion wouldn’t be too impassioned. Even if she claimed she could take it - her telltale stubbornness shining through - Din knew that he might be hurting her a bit. She was impossibly tight, but her walls eased slightly as he brought his helmet back down to hers, savoring each gentle keen that escaped her throat. He placed a hand against her neck, fingers sliding through a few stray strands of inky hair, thumb tracing the hollow as he gave a little squeeze. He was already getting close, a combination of how long it’d been since he’d had sex, the fact that it was her, in addition to how perfectly she wrapped around his length, so pleasingly snug and firm, leaving little to no room for anything else. “You were made for me,” he insisted in his delirium, sailing along a growing high as his legs ached and he felt the building pressure behind his groin.

She was hanging onto him, the golden marks on her skin winking as he glanced down at her, reminding him that she wasn’t quite human, but something so much more precious and coveted. A piece of the sun bundled up in beskar and joined to him as she threw her head back against the pillow again. Her walls fluttered around him, her whimper dying in her chest.

“Coming a second time? Fuck-” he was being thrust precariously to the edge by her, wishing he could last a bit longer, but she was strangling his cock. “Y-you’re so good. So perfect. C-can’t believe I waited this l-long. I-I’d wait forever if it meant I c-could have you a-again.”

She bleated at his words, continuing to strain beneath him on the edge of her own orgasm.

Despite intending to be utterly gentle with her, he had to bring himself over. He pumped into her a good few times, the sensation absolutely wrecking him, as she cried out, digging her fingernails into the flesh around his shoulders. He painted her insides with his seed, clamped on so tightly that he hadn’t the strength or will to do it elsewhere. Sagging forward, he pushed the visor of his helmet into the pillow beside her, trying to collect the scattered fragments of his sense as he wondered when he’d ever had such a good orgasm. His body was still quaking from the effort, despite how slow they had been going, tanned skin slick with sweat from a combination of effort and the stale desert air.

Finally, he disentangled himself and slipped down on the small bed beside her. He offered his arm, the cool beskar helm nestling into the crook of his pec, clicking lightly with the bottom of his own.

That’s going to get annoying, he realized, but put the thought aside. Mindlessly, his hand nestled against her waist and traced against it, comforted by her silken skin underneath his palm. Sliding over them like the moonlight on the moors of Vorp’ya, a comforting silence eased between them as they slowly drifted down from their high like a leaf slowly spiralling down from a tree’s most upper branch. He was nearly dozing off, her nails tracing lines in his chest hair, when she finally spoke.

“We should talk.”

Those words shouldn’t have frightened him, not when he was holding her against him, naked save for their helmets, having just fucked her, but they did. His heart fluttered, disconcerted and malcontent at the suggestion that there was really so much to talk about. ��About?”

“What this means, what happened during the war, and where we go from here,” she answered simply.

They owed each other to fill in the gaps, and try to work things out. “Mm,” he hummed, continuing to caress her. “I don’t know what you’ve heard from Paz.”

“That you’re an absolute di’kut ,” she informed him.

Din snorted. Of course Paz would still be mad at him, though he didn’t entirely blame the man. They weren’t on the best of terms at the moment. “Could say the same for him.”

“You’re both idiots,” Sena declared. “But I know it must’ve been hard to believe him after all this time.”

“Hard? It was nearly impossible. Why didn’t he just show me one of the transmissions?”

“Because they were coded specifically to be erased immediately after being opened,” Sena sighed. “I really could only send one at most every year or two. I was deep in Imperial territory and if those got intercepted, I could have gotten my entire team killed. I promised Paz I’d only send them to the Kote. ”

He should have expected that Paz would have offered evidence if he had it, but it still made him upset that he’d gone for so many years without confirmation - having to rely on the words of a man who was grieving for the loss of his entire clan. “What were you doing? I assumed the worst… that during The Great Purge you went marching-” his voice cracked, fingers tightening against her as he closed his eyes and tried to shake the terrible nightmares he’d recounted as he imagined her being killed over and over again without him there to watch her six.

“Barely made it out of there. Mandalore was absolutely ravaged. There were a few of us trying to figure out where to go, what to do… We didn’t feel right just throwing the towel in and giving up. Not after all the vod we’d lost on Mandalore. So, we found the rebels and offered our help. I split off from the others as the rebels began growing their numbers. I did a lot of recon, recruiting, and then set up on Hoth. Lot of people joined, but a lot of those people didn’t know their ass from their elbow. They had heart and they needed training, so I stepped into the position as teacher. None of them ever took a shine to fighting like Mandalorians, but they also didn’t have the luxury of extensive training. It was learn quick or die in the next fire fight-”

She continued detailing her years amongst the Rebels, how the operations grew, and she continued to help train until there were others who could take up the torch. Her talents were better used elsewhere, especially with the growing tension and necessity of an elite set of soldiers that could employ better stealth tactics. Her hatred of the Imps had never faded and she fell in step with being known as the best extractor of information. Whenever an officer was captured, she would be the interrogator, making certain they didn’t off themselves with their implants. They were tough nuts to crack, but Sena always had them singing for death, begging to be released from the revenge she took out on them. There was no pity in her heart. Not one single shred.

With the war reaching a climax, she took boots to the ground, working alongside other soldiers and groups as a leader and front-liner. Her years of experience, tactical training, and warfare made her a prime candidate for commander and she went wherever she was needed. No wonder she had no time to reach out, she was constantly traveling and offering support to troops. There was no time to run-ashore, to lollygag, or to take a moment for herself. They were at war and she’d be damned if she slacked even for a moment, costing anyone their lives. Din’s heart burned with admiration for her sacrifice, her unflinching resolve, and dedication to the cause. With each story, each word, he felt his resentment for her lack of contact vanishing as if it’d never been there. She hadn’t purposely been estranging herself. Sena had been an important leader in the war and trying to reach out to the Tribe would’ve put it in danger. She had been protecting them with her distance and he’d given up on ever seeing her again because of it.

When the end of the war came, it did not mark a complete close. The Death Star might’ve imploded, but there were still many warlords looking to make a last stand and attempt to regroup forces to bludgeon the wounded New Republic. Again, she could not leave in good faith until she was quite certain that the New Republic could handle everything on their own. So she remained, helping track down and hunt the remnants, counting the heads on spikes as she considered what returning home might feel like. It would all be worth it. She’d gone that far and that long to protect her people, for the risk of the Empire swooping in and taking the Tribe once again to never happen a second time. Her own personal needs did not rival the needs of the many.

Listening closely, he felt himself falling in love with her a second time.

“So as you can imagine, it’s been a long awaited homecoming. Not to mention how glad I was to take this kriffing bucket off on Dinhue . Thought the thing was glued onto me at that point,” she remarked, rapping her knuckles against the grey-blue steel. “Not that I didn’t miss you, but I wouldn’t trade what I did for anything, Din. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but I had to go. I had to because they destroyed my planet. And then did it a second time when they attacked Mandalore.”

“I understand,” he assured her. “If you had remained here, you’d be asking yourself constantly what might have happened if you had helped. You wouldn’t have been happy.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, nuzzling back against his neck, the beskar chilling him. “Didn’t think the war would take that kriffing long, but… suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

“ Ni vod’ika ,” he teased, tracing the golden marks on her collar.

“I was a commander,” she groused, but shifted abruptly, sitting up so that she had a palm on the pillow and was gazing down at him. “And when you say that, when you say my- ”

“I mean it,” Din answered honestly. “ My cyar’ika. Mine. Did you think I would change my mind after you told me your war stories?”

“Thought I might be too cool for you. That you’d be intimidated-”

“ Intimidated ?” Din snarked, laughing at the idea. He pushed her off, a soft huff escaping her mouth as she landed and he rolled on top of her. “Intimidated by you? After I had you soaking wet and on my cock, begging for me to talk dirty to you? You’re still the same di’kut. Arrogant, foolish-” he ground his hips to hers, his length beginning to twitch. “-so fucking dorky.”

“Alright, alright-” she complained, squirming beneath him. “I get it. My one brain cell did get a little swollen over the years. The rebels aren’t Mandalorians, so it was easy to stick out-”

“No, you’re wrong about that,” he palmed her breast, twisting her maroon nipple between his fingers, watching as it pebbled beneath his touch. “Despite being a di’kut , you’ve always been special. You’ve always had a way with people. And you’ve always been an impeccable warrior. I was always jealous of that - your ability to play so nice with others, the way that they’d all look at you, how they all accepted you right away when you first arrived to the Tribe. The fact that Rhenx favored you more than me…” he huffed, letting loose all his discontent and the frustration he’d felt growing up as they fought for the lead. The growing attraction that had become more as he admired her talents, the ones she excelled in versus him, the fact that she was able to blend into all aspects of the Tribe. He’d always been reserved, unable to lead from the front as she did so naturally, surrounded by friends and hunters who adored being in her space just as much as he did.

“You know, it doesn’t sound like you like me very much,” Sena chuckled, squeaking when he pinched her nipple.

“You’re right,” he admitted, bending down to spread her legs again, thrusting his hardness against her quivering lower lips. She gasped as he slipped right back in. “ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum .”

“D-Din!”

He moaned at the sound of his name being cried out, conscious to not be too rough, but still finding himself pumping into her at a steady pace. Her walls trembled around him, his palm seated against the small of her back, another flush to her mound as he drew quick circles around her clit. “I’ve loved you for such a long time. S-since we were kids. I-imagined h-having a family w-with you,” he was fraying around the edges, her sharp keening and noises hooking him toward the abyss once again. “E-each year you were gone. Felt like a piece of me died too. N-never telling you. Can’t do that again. Can’t let you out of my sight without letting you know how you make me feel. Hasn’t changed. You haven’t changed. Fuck-” his voice was breaking, the overwhelming urge to kiss her again consuming him. “Yo-you’re so good. Didn’t even dream you’d be this fucking amazing. Mesh’la. These markings-” he followed the crescents beneath her breasts. “-I want to taste every single one. I want to taste you. I want everything .”

Her back arched beneath his hand, walls clenching around him and pushing him into the sweet divinity of her warmth, the heat of her embrace, and the sharp intake of air before letting out a trembling cry. His head scraped her cervix, each thrust sending jarring shockwaves up his spine, from helmet to toe. For the second time that afternoon, he climaxed and was winded, losing all sense of knowing as he fell forward. His helmet felt awfully constricting, more so than usual as he panted, the breaths billeting back in his face.

They both fell asleep, exhausted from their tryst.

Din woke up to the space beside him vacant of Sena’s warmth. Panic billowed in his chest, eyes snapping open as he wondered if it had all been some kind of illness induced fever dream and the exchange had never happened. But when he glanced across the small room, he saw her at the kitchenette brewing tea. Her long hair had been pulled out of the braid and scattered in obsidian waves all the way down past her ass. She had his shirt on, which was big and baggy, the sleeves pushed up, and the hem skimming the tops of her thighs. Even if her armor looked good on her, Din liked seeing his own clothing draped over her slender form. Her visor settled on him and she gestured to the kettle.

“Would you like a cup?”

“Mm,” he nodded, grabbing his trousers and slipping them on, glad that she was still there and that it hadn’t been a dream. Striding over toward her as she began steeping the leaves, none of which were his, he placed his hands against her hips and brushed into her, humming as he set his chin on top of her helmet. Eventually his hands wrapped around her entirely, her slender form leaning back against him as she huffed at him.

“I can’t finish if you’ve got me like this,” she informed him.

“Then don’t,” he muttered.

“I’m not wasting good tea leaves,” she snipped, worming out of his grip so that she had enough room to work. Once she had steeped them properly, she removed the leaves and added a bit of honey.

“Made yourself comfortable in here while you waited for me, didn’t you?” Din mused, aware that this apartment was rather scant in supplies.

“I take my tea everywhere with me,” she insisted evenly. “These are from Naboo.”

“Which you’re not actually from.”

“No, I am not,” she admitted.

“Where are you from?”

“Paz told me you overheard that evening.”

“Course he did,” Din grumbled, wondering how much the siblings shared with each other. At this point, seemed like bloody everything. “Yes, I overheard that you were Anaxian. Although, I never knew much about Anaxes or the people who lived there.”

“A lot of different people lived there. I lived in a forest called Genmaris,” she informed him.

A forest. Now he understood why she had been so much more excited to see a tree than the pond. She was accustomed to running between branches and boroughs and had there been more trees, she might’ve leapt amongst them completely in her natural element. “What was it like there?”

“Peaceful,” she sighed wistfully, facing him and leaning back against the counter. “I was a brat-”

“Still are-”

She gave him a defiant head tilt before continuing. “Used to find ways to worm out of the castle all the time. Go flouncing in the woods and get all my nicest dresses ruined-”

“ Castle? ” Din repeated.

“I was a princess,” she sounded so indifferent that Din was shocked into silence. “Oh, come on now. You said you overheard that evening after the farce with Hyvhast. Paz called me a princess.”

“I thought it was a pet name, not literal,” he croaked in disbelief.

“ Anyways, ” she continued. “Genmaris was very beautiful and rich with culture, vegetation, and the architecture was glorious. Metal wasn’t very often used for building. The castle was made of stone and wood.”

“The accent makes more sense now,” Din realized out loud.

“Hm?”

“Your accent, princess .”

“Don’t start that osik with me. I haven’t been a princess for twenty-two years. That life was put behind me when I joined Clan Vizsla,” she snapped irritably, his lips curling up at her frustration. “ Speaking of which, my brother is rather cross with you.”

“You think he’ll be more upset after he finds out I fucked you?” Din teased, quickly adding, “Twice.”

She slapped his chest - hard - taking her mug of tea and sliding out of his grasp. “Paz does like you. He was thinking of us as a match back when we were 16,” she sat down, crossing her legs, the hem of the shirt riding up slightly. “But you were too stupid to do anything other than stare.”

“You could’ve said something too, cyar’ika ,” he took the other mug and sat across from her.

“Anaxians don’t reach sexual maturity until their twentieth name day. And what that means, is that we don’t go through puberty until then. I wasn’t really thinking about that sort of stuff until we were older and even then, I was quite put off after what had happened,” Sena reminded him, lifting her helmet enough to take a sip of her tea. “I ended up dating because it felt like the right thing to do, since everyone else was.”

Din’s stomach shifted uncomfortably, horrified by what he was hearing. Not because he’d overstepped boundaries, but because Sena had been trying so hard to fit in and she had gotten burned because of it. Hyvhast’s stupid bucket appeared back in his mind. She had dated him because ‘it seemed right’ only for the mando to strip her growing body after constant pressure and coercion. No wonder Paz had been livid. He’d also felt just as upset, but Paz had known all these things those years ago. His sister was still an adolescent and Hyvhast had defiled her, laughed in her face, and then told others about it. Fortunately, the Tribe wasn’t as stupid as Hyvhast and Jiabe had throttled him for speaking out of turn.

“And now?”

She glanced over at him. “Well, we didn’t quite date did we? Though circumstances withstanding, I wouldn’t take back any of what we did.”

He was happy to hear that, taking a sip of the tea, which was pleasantly floral with earthy undertones, a hint of caf, and the sweet bloom of the honey. “What are we?”

“Together, if that’s what you’d like,” she proposed, but quickly followed up. “Despite what you’ve said, I think we should get to know each other again. We shouldn’t be too hasty.” They shouldn’t exchange riduurok immediately was what she was darting around.

Din would have right in that moment, but respected her request. Duly he remembered that he had promised Karga that he’d pick up the next big bounty soon, something about beskar being involved as payment. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her side after being reunited. But she had full beskar armor. He did not. “Together then,” he agreed. “You’re not going to tell Paz that we-”

“ What!? ” she screeched. “Do I want your helmet bashed in? No! I’ll tell him that we’re courting. Again, he’s still rather pissed at you,” she cocked her head, setting the mug down on the table. “I know the years haven’t been easy for you. Paz told me that you’ve been living a half-life, not really engaging with the Tribe. Still pulling more than your fair share of weight, but a lot of our vod aren’t too pleased with you. Din… Are you ok?”

He sighed, bone weary and not looking forward to this conversation. “The days were monotonous. I just fell into routine and… you were really the only reason I talked to most of the Tribe. Your brother tried to bring me back in and we got into a few fights over it. I thought you were marching away, so hearing him sound so foolishly hopeless about your return… I started to resent him. Which only grew as the years dragged on and he still hadn’t given up about you.”

Sena stood up, trotting over to him and wrapping an arm around his hot neck. “Well, you’d better apologize then, because who’s the shebs now?” she pointed out, letting him lean into her chest, hooking his bicep around her waist before he tugged her onto his lap.

“I am,” he grumbled, nestling his helmet into her collar.

“Mm, you have changed a bit. Admitting defeat so quickly?”

“Only to you,” he frowned, sitting back up. “It’ll get better. I’ll get better,” he assured her, touching his helmet down in a keldabe kiss.

“Better? No, Din, you’ll feel better. You’re not broken, just hurting. And I’ll be here for you to talk to. I’m not going anywhere now,” she insisted, pushing back against his helmet.

He hummed in agreement, holding her close, savoring their proximity once again, clinging to the idea that he’d not be alone again. Truly, he’d never been alone as he was surrounded by the Tribe, but he’d estranged himself after the defeat on Vorp’ya. He didn’t feel hopeless anymore, but there were still many other emotions he had to come to grips with. “Do I really have to apologize to Paz?”

“ Elek, di’kut, ” she flicked his helmet. “Better sooner than later, because if Paz finds out that you-”

“You said you wouldn’t tell him,” he scowled.

“If it’s going to force your apology out of you, perhaps I might casually mention it.”

“We won’t be exchanging riduurok ever if your brother kills me,” Din reminded her lightly.

“Mm, would be such a shame. You’ll never find out what an Anaxian princess actually looks like,” she jested.

“If this part of you is any hint at what’s beneath the bucket-” he ran his hand down the front of the shirt she was wearing. “-then I know I’m in for the shock of my life.”

“Oh,” she huffed mockingly. “Can your heart take it?”

Din pushed her off his lap as she broke out into a fit of howling laughter. He’d missed that especially. “Still a brat.”

“ Your brat.”

“My brat,” he agreed.

Translations

ori'buyce kih'kovid - all helmet, no head (overdeveloped sense of authority) mesh'la dala - beautiful woman di'kutla - stupid, worthless Hukaat'kama - watch my six shab - fuck/fucked dala - woman ni cetar'narir kay'shebs - I'm going to shove my boot up your ass shebs - ass jayc'kovid - dickhead osik - shit Vor entre - I owe you a debt (or thank you) Kaysh mirsh solus - his braincell is lonely Oya - let's hunt, let's go Manda'yaim - Mandalore Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye (lit. Maybe we'll meet again) di'kut - idiot Ni vod'ika - my little soldier

#big brother paz vizsla #paz vizsla & oc character #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #growing up mandalorian #din djarin x oc #din djarin smut #smut with feelings

16 notes · View notes

lunarnirvana · 4 years

Text

Lavender Moon

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Please not read if these subjects upset or trigger you in any way. Heavy themes are present in my writing.

Descriptions of abduction, hospital setting, language, Vomiting, mentions of s*icide, non-consensual drug use, seizure, some descriptions involving gore, blood, injury, reader drugged, mentions of LSD and tripping, anxiety symptoms.

Prompt: Nicole’s Alphabet Angst for 8K - Occult

Summery: Reid and Reader are dating when a case involving the occult dredges up turmoil between the happy couple. The case being difficult enough, the resemblance between the Reader and the victims leaves Reid uneasy… (Full summary at bottom of writing so as not to spoil but if you’re worried about the content I’ll always add the full summary at the bottom! Stay safe)

Category: Angst with some fluff sprinkled here and there (Happy ending)

Word count: 7k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU Female Reader

A/N: I hope saying this doesn’t discourage anyone from reading but this is my first imagine! I guess not that I’ve written, just posted. I’m kind of really nervous about putting this out there but why not? Also for future reference I write very intense and real things and I want this to be a safe place for everyone which is why I will try to be as thorough with my trigger warnings as humanly possible but if there is ever anything written that I did not warn you about before the writing I apologize and PLEASE let me know so I can make it a priority to include that warning in the future. Ty and tpwk <3 enjoy

“No evil ever came from a woman’s womb that wasn’t placed there first by a man.”

― Charles A. Cornell

Her intuition never betrayed her.

It was lodged deep inside her throat, the swell of hesitation like a globule that obstructed any resourceful observations about the crime scene photos. The innate feeling that the case was destined for calamity. Y/N didn’t let the gravity of her work weigh on her mental state until she was in the comfort of her confides where she could lick her psychological scars in peace.

The entire BAU regarded their unspoken directive was to bottle any reaction to the happenstances of the case with little exception. As they congregated at the round table they’d bind their biases against their eyes with the blindfolds they used to avoid looking at the bodies for too long. If you stared for too long into those gaping gashes, the blackness of the cavernous body would consume you completely. This is what they all knew to be true and so they pursued beasts with scar tissue forming over their minds and volatile hands with stoic accuracy.

This accuracy was entirely derivative of their abilities to detach from the emotional aspects of the case.

Garcia was the exception to this jurisdiction, her back turned against the horrific gore on the screen yet she described the carnage as if she were looking at it. She threw in some embellishments and innuendos for certain aspects that were too nauseating to repeat.

“We’ve got a local case today. Linda Jefferson and Kayla Burnen were the first two victims of what local PD wrote off as a suicide pact at first,” Garcia explained, “After further inspection, though, they discovered an incredibly high, nearly lethal dosage of LSD in their blood.”

Reid spoke up beside her when he noticed something in the tox-analysis results, startling Y/N slightly, “It's not synthesized in the same manner, though. There are certain proteins missing that would make this particular substance would ensure an emergence phenomenon would happen regardless of the environment.”

He let his hand fall into his lap so his girlfriend could trace figure eights in his palm with the tip of her finger in some apologetic gesture for the trivial fright as he chided. They’d been together for a year now so he understood what comforted her and what didn’t.

“So you’re saying they took bad acid? Growing up in my generation I can vouch that I never felt compelled to shoot someone under the influence,” Rossi chuckled at his own shortcomings and garnered amusement from the team.

“Actually, I believe this particular form of LSD was tampered with to cause a bad trip. You’d either have to be an idiot to make LSD this way or…” Reid drifted off, letting someone else conclude what was already obvious to him.

“You’d have to do it on purpose. You can’t mess up that bad and it not be intentional,” Emily agreed, bobbing her head back and forth while the raven locks framing her elongated facade veiled around her expression.

“A few days after those two were found,” She flipped the slide, “Beth Myers and Lola Sanchez were found in the same area with the same exact M.O. No correlations to the first two victims or to each other.”

Reid felt the way Y/N’s finger swirled against his palm and traced the creases in his skin before flipping his hand over so she could run her soft touch across his veins and phalanges. She found his hands fascinating suddenly, more fascinating than the case. When Garcia flipped to the picture of the victims he felt a sudden pressure as Y/N locked her grip around his hand. She squeezed it for reassurance as the smiling women stared at them through the screen.

“The victims had blood-let themselves, were covered in melted wax from candles, were placed in white nightgowns, and were forced to finish one another off by stabbing each other in the chests,” Garcia winced as she recited the details.

Y/H/C, the texture of their hair, and resemblance with her was the aligning factor between the four and it made Y/N’s chest wrench at the thought of being drugged with such petrifying euphoric paranoia. She could tell her boyfriend noticed her reaction but didn’t bother to meet his concerned gaze. He just stared down at her avoidance in yearning for some communication although he rarely gave her that courtesy himself. He could tell she held reservations about the case, especially when they realized the unsub was following ritualistic patterns and protocols, the occultism sprinkled through the murders like decoration.

Reid never took holding her hand for granted but in this instance he swore he heard bones cracking. Y/N was comforted by the gesture but realized she was hurting him when she felt him begin to crumble under the pain beside her. She turned to him quickly and released her vice-grip.

“Sorry, sorry,” She whispered toward him, not wanting to disturb the briefing.

“Its fine, hun, but what’s wrong?” He pressed.

She shrugged and slouched back into her chair, sinking into the seat as if it would express her silence. She told herself it was just anxiety and eventually convinced herself it was her own self doubt causing her to have such a guttural feeling. She watched the clock for the rest of her shift before gathering her personal effects from the surface of her desk, sweeping the items into her bag. Reid watched her maneuver rather quickly to get her things together. Expecting her to wait for him like always, he bent down to grab his satchel but when he arose she was halfway to the elevators, shuffling through interns and her coworkers to leave.

He followed her down to the lobby before bringing it up.

“I can tell when something’s wrong with you, love. What is it?” His hand had fallen to the small of her back as they walked out of the east entrance together.

“It just freaks me out sometimes, you know? The whole occultism thing,” Her voice was suddenly softer than he remembered.

Typically, this disquieted nature was portrayed by him but she remained unnerved the entire walk down. Something churned in her stomach and converted her into a placid arrangement of unease. Y/N despised the corruption of any establishment but this particular subject hit her square in the chest.

He smiled down to her while they approached the rugged vehicle parked on the far end of the lot. “Occult-related homicides are a statistical anomaly. They’re highly uncommon, Y/N/N, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

She nodded as she pulled the keys to her car out and passed them to him, “Can you drive?”

“Of course but only if I can pick the playlist,” He smirked, snatching the jangling keyring from where it swang on her index finger.

“No way in hell,” She giggled, “I am not listening to Bach the whole way home.”

She slipped into her seat and immediately her leg began to bounce with disarm. She tried to steady it herself as she watched Reid bend down to face her before getting in.

“I was gonna put on Brahms for your information,” His slender body folded into the front seat and he turned the key over in the ignition. Noticing her shaking leg, he reached his arm across the center console to rest on her knee as he began pulling out. It soothed under his touch and he smirked knowing exactly how to ease her even with the slightest gestures.

The base of the lamp was a wicker configuration and it flooded the room with brilliant fiery luminescence, the walls suddenly painted a pastel yellow from the warm lighting emitted from their bedside table. Along with that, illuminating the neglected contours of the room were a few white candles that burned on Y/N’s wooden bureau. Wax congregated at the foot of the tall towers of flame and spilled over the sides of the candle holder onto the wood.

The encapsulating smell of Nag Champa incense shrouded the room blending with the wafting smoke streaming from the ember-littered sage Reid’s eclectic bedmate’s hands. Y/N watched the silver scarf dance above the end of the dried bundle as it swirled around the room. Her eyes followed the smoke, eyelashes veiling her sight giving her a dark allure that Reid couldn’t keep his eyes off of.

He didn’t mind that she liked to indulge in the holistic benefits of burning herbs or the countless books she had on witchcraft and the occult. He found it charming. Although he knew when she was upset she’d do these “cleansing rituals” which really did nothing more than make their room smell like a Grateful Dead concert. She never was discomforted by the fact the unsub was utilizing occultist beliefs, she was upset at the perversion of her practice.

Of course, he was sworn to secrecy against telling the team about her hobby. She knew she’d be teased into oblivion for such an unorthodox collection of semi-precious stone, herbs, and essential oils that she claimed assisted trivial offenses. That was the aspect of her avocation Reid disagreed with.

They’d debated about it before but both were keen on their bias and so they agreed to leave the subject as an unspoken rift and move forward. Reid still found the smell of the incense suffocating especially when his migraines trickled in. She’d slip rosemary and peppermint into his tea to help his chronic condition but whenever he would catch the taste he’d beg her not to use her ‘pseudoscience’s instruction’ on him. Each time they’d get into an argument about it but eventually it’d fizzle out in sniffing apologies and fond interactions generally ensued.

“You’re really going to town on the bad juju tonight, huh?” He spoke up from behind his book. It was always strange to hear his shift in nomenclature when he left work, his vocabulary becoming relaxed and casual. He practically bathed in her relaxing aura. He would describe her the same way she describes the effects of lavender when she tried to spray some on his pillow to help him sleep.

He told her he didn’t need it as long as she was sleeping next to him and that was the first night they shared a bed. He hadn’t left her apartment since.

“I have a bad feeling about this case, Spence. I’d like to clear the negative energy from the room,” She said, waving the burning bundle of dried sage around the bed.

“The creepy ass painting you bought from the farmer’s market is still on the wall so I don’t think it’s working,” Reid laughed. She shot him a small warning glare that resulted in the two of them collapsing into hysterics.

She plopped on the bed, clutching her stomach from laughing with him as the tightening delight in her stomach began to burn. Reid was cackling, trying to make out the words, “You looked like a disgruntled care bear.” She felt relief from the laughter when his hand coiled around her waist and tucked her against his chest for safe keeping. She felt his soft lips quiet his dissipating chuckles as they pressed against her forehead.

The sage was smouldering against an abalone shell beside the bed and Reid let Y/N burn the candles throughout the night despite his heedings that it was a fire hazard. It seemed to bring serenity to her and that’s all he was concerned with.

They remained entangled like chains in a jewelry box, Reid soon enveloping her in his grasp completely. He worried that the victims looked too similar to her as he struggled to fall asleep beside her but eventually, the rhythmic movement of her breathing against him brought him enough poise to sleep.

The case dragged out across a couple of weeks stretching resources and mindsets across the vast expanse of interrogation and interviews. They sharpened the victimology down to a finite point to dig into the unsub’s plans and wrench him away from his potential choices. They were delivering the profile to the police department when Y/N noticed Reid’s hand was now tightly gripping hers instead of their usual routine.

He held their hands behind them so the crowd wouldn’t see the unprofessionalism. As each new victim was discovered resembling the woman he woke up to every morning he began feeling that same tension she’d expressed. Now, as he heard the profile, it brought an agitation to his stomach. His grip was tight and unwavering and unlike hers it didn’t shake at all. It was like he was afraid if he let her go, the unsub would be lying in wait behind them to snatch her away.

“We believe he’s a male caucasian driving a blue Ford Crown Victoria which he uses to abduct the women,” Rossi began.

“His victims are aged twenty three to twenty eight and we think he’s in the same age bracket,” Hotch continued as the soft sound of scribbling followed.

“Combining that with the fact he can synthesize LSD into a more aggressive formula suggests we’re dealing with a highly intelligent unsub with an extensive knowledge in chemistry,” Reid said monotonously despite his conflict.

“This isn’t surprising. Psychopaths often have above average intelligence. Coupled that with trauma relating to a religious mother figure who was abusive in some respect. Either his biological mother or a foster parent,” JJ nodded through her portion, her dark ocean eyes striking every gaze in motherly vivacity.

Y/N sat up, “For some reason this unsub will not engage in the killing himself. He watches the two victims kill one another under the influence of drugs and instructs them on how to mutilate one another,” she suddenly felt Reid’s hand leave hers but remained focused on the expectant faces of the precinct, “His M.O. is consistent with occult sacrifices. It's a form of homicidal voyeurism that could represent his own impotency or may be a forensic countermeasure.”

Reid lurched forward, pushing himself off of the edge of the desk and excused himself politely as he walked back toward the bathrooms. Y/N turned over her shoulder to look, her eyebrows wrought with concern but Emily’s modulated voice leashed her back into delivering the profile.

“He’s been consistently choosing his victims to coincide with the seven deadly sins. First greed where the first two victims were taken from a casino then lust. The third and fourth victims were in an online BDSM chatting room when they were lured into a threesome with the unsub where he killed them. Because of this consistency in his signature, we’ve predicted his next choice is going to be Envy,” Emily explained.

“His target location is going to be an underground swingers club. Our team and some members of the force will be undercover as security for the club. You’re looking for anyone who might complain that they’ve been roofied or look for women who seem overly intoxicated,” Morgan informed.

Y/N leaned back into the table behind her while she quickly spoke, trying desperately to rush through the profile to check on her boyfriend, “So far he’s been following the major astrological events happening in the past month. Tomorrow night is a Harvest Moon and a partial solar eclipse which fits his preference. Excuse me.”

As soon as the sentence ended she was following Reid to the bathroom. She turned behind her to see the crowd still mesmerized by the team as they briefed them and took the opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. She knew Hotch and Morgan would pester the two of them about it later but she couldn’t help it. She saw the way his face shifted to a paled green hue and how he gripped his stomach as he pushed the swinging door open.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw his oxfords poking out of the stall and the sound of retching echoed in the bathroom. Y/N ran beside him and rubbed circles into his back, feeling tears well at her waterline and threaten to spill over. She blinked them away quickly to not upset him any more. Guilt wracked her chest.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok,” She soothed and crouched beside him in the stall so that she could rest her head on his shoulder blade. She watched her hand slide across the woven knit of his cardigan, smoothing the fibers down and continued to try and calm him. She could feel him sobbing dryly, his back arching with each heave. Eventually he felt it was safe to lean back against the far wall of the stall and face her.

The skin around his eyes puckered with irritation, shining with the tears that slipped from the corners. He closed them tightly, wrinkling his face in an agonized expression while Y/N leaned forward. She rested her hands on his knees that were awkwardly sprawled in different directions in the small confides of the stall. She sat between them, tucked into herself so as to not take up too much room.

“Talk to me, Spencer,” she pleaded.

He actually decided to, exhausted by the weight of the bodies that piled in the morgue and his quivering stomach. “I’m worried about you being on this case. I don’t want you to get,” he gagged on the rest of the sentence and vomited into the porcelain bowl again.

“Baby, please stop worrying about it so much,” she was begging now as tears began to haphazardly fall onto his back. He sat up at the sensation and resumed his previous position.

His horse voice came forward now as he tried to swallow the mucus that lined his throat now. “Promise me you won’t leave my side until this case is over, okay? Until the unsub is in custody,” He asked her through his darkly adorned eyes.

“I promise,” She assured and it brought a relief to his nausea, “I have mouthwash and ginger gum in my bag. I’m gonna text Morgan to come bring me it—“

“I can walk, honey. If you tell Morgan he’ll call me something like barf boy for a week,” he chuckled and began to sit up. His legs wobbled beneath him slightly but he caught himself on her shoulders. She gripped his elbows tightly.

“You’re dehydrated, come here,” She lead him to the sink where he could wash up and rinse the taste of bile from his tongue.

Pulsating basslines berated Reid’s chest making him feel like he was choking on the loud music. He despised clubs like these dipped in technicolor animosity and relishing in the electronic stimulation the club reverberated. Each member was stationed at certain points of the room such as beside exits, the landings of stairwells, and an agent at each corner. Y/N was beside the bar vehemently watching each drink poured and handed out, ensuring no hands slipped tabs into the liquor.

Hotch’s instruction was patched in through their earpieces.

“Blonde hair, black button up in the west corner of the bar by you, Y/L/N,” Reid heard and immediately his gaze shot toward her.

She was alerted and her sight honed in on the suspect. He was analyzing the body language of the woman before him who held similar semblance to Y/N. He waited patiently for her to let her guard down and look away from her drink and he was charming her into doing it.

The girl threw her head back in laughter and he saw his opportunity presented before him. Y/N watched his meticulous hands slip a small white tablet into the amber liquid of the girl’s glass. It dissolved into a discreet poison, lacing her glass with LSD.

Then he looked at Y/N and she felt his taunting stare desecrate her sanctity. She didn’t express it, though, her stoicism making him come to the conclusion she was a cop. His eyes widened and he grabbed the startled hands of the two women beside him, one seemingly more intoxicated than the other.

“Suspect is on the move with two friendlies, agent in pursuit.” Y/N’s voice was patched through and Reid watched her bolt after the unsub as she unholstered her gun.

“Wait,” he said through the earpiece, “Y/N, wait!”

She proceeded despite his protest and chased the unsub out of the building where he began loading the girls into his car. They obeyed, the trip settling in for at least one of them. He held a gun to the sober one’s back but Y/N in a flurry of indecision charged at the unsub.

“FBI! Stop or I’ll shoot!” She warned.

He drew his gun toward her but she shot his shoulder clean making his gun fly out of his hand. The man cried out, one hand falling on the gushing wound but he closed the door before the sober woman could get in, trapping her counterpart inside. He staggered toward the driver side and ducked into the car as she began to aim her gun at him again, threatening another offense.

Y/N reached out and pulled the girl from the skidding tires as he sped off before she could even process that the other girl was trapped inside. Once she did she began trying to shoot his tires out but to no avail. The girl was sobbing in her arms now, her tears bleeding through Y/N’s shirt that peaked out from above her Kevlar.

“You’re safe now, it’s okay,” she assured, “You’ve been drugged you need to be taken to a hospital,” Y/N said and almost as if on cue, Morgan could be heard behind her calling for a bus.

JJ came and took the sniffling victim from Y/N’s care allowing Reid to grab her shoulders and spin her around to face him. He inspected her facade for any damage but she brushed him off.

“I’m fine, Spence, but the other girl. We have to find her,” She grabbed his arm as he grabbed hers and they interlocked their forearms to reinforce some affection.

“You need to stop chasing after suspects with no backup. You’re being reckless and I’m taking you home, Y/N/N.” His voice was stern and she didn’t bother protesting from the way he looked at her.

Reid was fuming on the car ride home, the whites of his knuckles highlighted even in the darkness as he gripped the steering wheel. Y/N was curled against the passenger side door, wrapped in his sweater that she pulled taught around her frame.

“Can we please not fight when we get home?” He asked suddenly, voice breaking through the silence of the car, “I don’t want you to argue with me to go back into the field. This entire case has been so draining I just need you to understand seeing you do stuff like that— it kills me.”

“I know, Spence. Are you getting a headache?” She noticed him wince as someone passed with their high beams blazing. He groaned at the exposure, pinching the bridge of his nose and nodded.

She decided to make him some tea when they got home. Preparing the mug in the kitchen, she seeped the jasmine leaves and reached inside the cupboard for the mason jars she had filled with various dried herbs. Making the tea kept her mind occupied from the disrupting guilt she reserved for not saving the other girl. It was a guilt that clamped her arteries and made even the simplest tasks seem harrowing.

She put a pinch of dried rosemary and a drop or two of peppermint extract, stirring it in with some sugar. The sound of the metal spoon scraping the bottom of the glass brought her attention back to her task.

Her fingers coiled around the warm ceramic mug and she walked it carefully into the living room where Reid laid on the couch with a pillow pulled over his eyes. She took the hint and dimmed the lights but as she set down his tea he could already smell the additives.

Coupled with the headache, he’d never become genuinely upset over her affinity for the occult until now. He sat up with exasperation and picked it up, sniffing the steam to confirm his suspicions.

“Y/N, seriously?” He asked and looked up to her but his own voice made a piercing impact on his head.

“Seriously what?” She repeated defensively.

“You know what. I honestly can’t believe you. Especially after the case we just had,” he shook his head, laying back down.

“So you’re not even gonna drink it?” She asked, her face falling to an annoyed deadpan although he couldn’t see it.

“Jesus. No. I’m not. Can you just leave me alone for right now?” He asked finally.

A twinge of hurt stabbed her chest at the request and she took the mug as he pulled the pillow back over his face. In the darkness, he could see her pained expression etched into his vision. The shuffling in their bedroom intrigued him as well and he began to realize what he’d said. It blurred the agonizing migraine and caused him to sit up only moments later to apologize.

As he stared at the empty room he was startled by the sudden creek of their door from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he only caught the tail end of her jacket as she walked out. A raucous slam followed making him wince at the sound.

I really screwed up.

Reid pushed through the shroud of pain emanating from the fluorescence of the room, reaching forward for his own coat. A ripping agony followed and he doubled over, burying his face in his palms so he wasn’t staring at the light. A groan tore through the empty apartment as he tried to rub the headache away so he could chase after her.

Following Y/N proved to be farcical in his condition and he leaned against the couch in defeat, praying she’d just step outside for some fresh air.

Y/N stomped down the street with a quivering chin like a small child, sobs tearing through any muscle or fiber holding the sound in. People on the street avoided her state awkwardly, their gazes falling to the concrete when she’d pass. Humiliation was wrought in her mannerisms but she didn’t care. He told her to leave him alone over tea. She knew his migraines were the culprit but she couldn’t stay cooped up inside. There was a girl being tortured somewhere and she was sitting at home making tea with her boyfriend? There was something unfair to her about the situation.

She heard her phone trill a few times but ignored the noise, fleeing toward a local park down the street. She decidedly plopped down in the jagged blades of grass, kicking the shoes she threw on to the side so that she could feel the ground beneath her. She wanted to be as close to the ground as humanly possible to calm herself.

Every time she’d begin to soothe her cries her phone would ring bringing another wave of distraught. Through her tears, the world was a blur of velvet indigos distrusted suddenly by a dark shadow looming over her. She gasped in reaction but that’s all he gave her time to do before she felt his hand grab her head and pull her up by her jaw, his large gloved hands covering her entire face.

His fingers were sprawled apart so she could see herself being dragged away. Something bitter slipped onto her tongue and she tried to spit it out but the unsub locked her jaw shut to force the drug to work through her system. She tried to scream but with each muffled shrill he’d tighten his grip. Her teeth involuntarily grit against each other from the force and she screamed against her lips for help.

Y/N thrashed around as much as she could before she felt a pinprick in her right arm. Then the world shifted to a darker blue until her vision was gone completely.

Waking up in a wooded field sanctioned off from society’s wandering earshot, she felt the zip tie’s digging into her ankles and wrists. The skin had swelled around the bindings, causing excruciating pain whenever she’d move. She could feel her lip bleeding from being split by someone’s fists. Suddenly, a face fell before hers and began to cut the zip ties. Why was he cutting her loose?

“Good morning, sleepy head. You… you really messed my night up, you know that?” The man asked, his hand falling to her cheek.

Instead of skin she felt the smooth sensation of latex against her. The medicinal smell filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes, pretending she was in the hospital with Spencer there instead of him.

“How…” she found it harder to speak than normal, “How did I do that?”

“Clara. I had Clara picked out. She was the perfect one but you were jealous of her. You wanted me all to yourself. Envy is a sin,” his words were venomous.

He couldn’t have been much older than her, sand colored locks that fell in soft tufts around his face. He looked like a renaissance painting with a wicked possession, his blue eyes complimented by the crimson of his bloodshot waterline. When he smirked at her his face shifted from an archangel to that of a demon, waiting to consume her whole.

Then, she noticed the shifting movement beside her. The other victim was tied up beside her and groaned as she awoke. In the darkness even, Y/N could see the girl’s pupils were dilated. She suddenly began screaming and thrashing around violently, kicking at the open air as if there were a second offender in front of her.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, there’s nothing there!” Y/N tried but the girl couldn’t hear her, only the muffled calls of her hallucinations.

“Darcy, I need you to shut the fuck up sweetie,” the unsub grimaced.

She quieted down almost immediately but still shook in fear at whatever she was seeing before her.

Y/N turned back to the man in front of her, “Let her go. You don’t want her, you want me.”

“On the contrary, I want both of you,” he seemed coherent enough but was still clearly suffering a psychotic break. Psychopaths usually hid those breaks well.

“Why?” Y/N’s gaze suddenly shot straight through his, “You’re afraid if you touch us you’ll be infected with our sin?”

She made a move to spit in his face and he jumped back, yelling and wiping his face harshly with his sleeve. “You filthy bitch! My father will love you,” a smile etched across his face.

“Your father? Where’s your father?” She looked around for a partner but no one could be seen.

“The destroyer of souls of men. He bears the torch, the herald of dawn,” He spoke in his cryptic tongue but Y/N remembered Reid reciting certain portions of the Bible and poetry regarding Lucifer.

“Your father is the devil, right? Lucifer?” She asked.

He suddenly slapped her, the latex making the blow sting that much worse. Blood trickled from her teeth down her hanging lip but she sat back up despite the pain.

“My mom used to bathe me in bleach. She cleansed me of my sins. She’d scrub the chemicals into my back and say ‘Your daddy’s the devil.’” He seemed to find some inner turmoil with his logic but continued to quote his mother in a southern accent, “‘Your daddy is satan and you were born into this world as an abomination.’”

The M.O. and signature began to align with his claims, a severe case of germaphobia which rendered him unable to carry out the murders himself. He lets his victims do it for him.

As he spoke she watched his face begin to shift and swirl into a much eviler expression. His lips coiled into a smile, his eyes narrowing into black slits and his nose sunk into his skull. He began taking the form of a horrifying wraith, horns practically splintering out of his forehead. The trees began to sway and dance despite the lack of wind and the stars in the sky melted into glowing stalagmites that threatened her toward the ground.

Everything began to distort and she felt herself descend into horror. The acid was taking effect and as the girl’s blood curdling shrieks erupted beside her she began to put her head between her knees and sob. He rubbed her hair, sighing.

“Even the warriors must crumble. You’ll bow to my god,” he stood and suddenly tangled a fistful of hair into his hands, yanking her up along with Darcy.

Shrieking as the pain visualized before her in petrifying hallucinations she was positioned before the screaming girl. The unsub instructed Darcy to take the dagger from his hand and stab Y/N. She refused, shaking her head.

“It’s ok,” Y/N assured even as the trip progressed, “It’s ok. Just do what he says, I promise it’s ok.”

Darcy bawled as she hesitantly took the dagger. She walked toward Y/N and slowly drove the knife right beside her hip bone. She groaned, her hand falling forward onto Darcy’s shoulder. “Fuck,” she moaned as the squelching sound echoed through her head.

She keeled over the agony, wrapping her arms around herself. It was harrowing to have to pressurize a wound on oneself she found. Even the slightest touch against her cut felt like she was being stabbed repeatedly. She felt the cool tip of the Unsub’s gun push her up by her shoulder. That was when she realized only one of his hands were in use. The other one was still inflicted with the gunshot she fired. If she weren’t so high she would have used that to her advantage.

With the pain came even more disillusionment. She looked down at her palms and suddenly a bloodied dagger was grasped in them. “No, no, no,” she whispered.

Darcy pleaded for Y/N not to stab her and the agent had no intention of carrying out the Unsub’s fantasy.

“Kill me yourself you coward,” she spat, “I’m not hurting her.”

“I didn’t think you’d be persuaded that easily,” suddenly a gunshot cracked through the soundscape. It rang in Y/N’s ears causing her to buckle over in pain. Nothing seemed real. Her chest felt like it would tear open at any second, freeing her palpitating heart from it’s confides.

She watched the girl’s body fall limply before her and screamed out, racing to her side. The more she looked at the corpse the worse the gore progressed. Eventually, she was staring at a demon.

“FBI! Kye Alderwood, put your hands up!” Reid’s booming voice came from across the field. When she turned to look at him, though, he wasn’t himself.

He was taller, probably eight feet tall, and his body was stretched and elongated into a bony configuration. His face twisted and melted into a horrifying facade and he charged at her. His hands were giant daggers waiting to rip into her. She didn’t see the unsub aim his gun toward her but heard another shot fired. Suddenly, another demonic corpse laid beside her.

She couldn’t fathom grabbing the gun from the unsub’s vapid hands but there she was snatching the glock from the grass it was enveloped in. She didn’t comprehend that her boyfriend was in front of her. What she was seeing was a nightmare unfolding before her. The delusions were real. It was all real.

Reid stumbled back when he saw the gun pointed at him. He thought it was a mistake but when he saw her eyes he knew she wasn’t seeing him. Her paranoia was evident as she hyperventilated and her entire frame trembled, barely able to stand. Swaying back and forth and she wept he felt himself grow sick at the sight.

“Y/N! Put the gun down, honey, it’s just me,” he pleaded.

A sob broke through her voice, “Get away from me!”

“It’s Spencer, baby,” Now he was crying, terrified she’d pull the trigger. In any other circumstance this situation would have diffused by now but the LSD in her system turned her completely hysterical.

“Leave me alone!” The words being reflected back to him just wretched his heart further.

He wasn’t even pointing his own weapon at her anymore. He stopped pointing it at her the second he recognized her. Now it was pointed askew, the barrel facing the grass beside him. Neither of them could have aimed a gun at one another in the right mindset where she didn’t reside for the time being.

Seemingly, her psychosis seemed to penetrate any affection they shared. Beads of sweat formed on her skin as she held the gun steadily toward his frame. He knew if she shot him it’d be a kill shot. She had the best aim on the team.

“Please, baby, I love you so much. Just put the gun down I won’t hurt you,” Reid persisted through it as he heard reinforcements file in behind him. He spun around, waving Morgan, Hotch, and Emily away.

“Don’t come any closer! She’s drugged, she can’t help it and I swear to God if you shoot her I’ll resign!” He warned the other agents who heeded his warning despite the alarming display before them. They still kept their guns aimed at their teammate in allegiance to the judicial implications.

Y/N’s trip began to peak, the world around her becoming unrecognizable in the heap of apparitions that surrounded her. She screamed as misshapen, flesh colored bats charged down at her, flying toward her and swatted them away.

Reid watched her pushing and swatting away imaginary attackers and took the opportunity to run toward her. She screamed and thrashed around in his arms, clawing his skin and kicking at his legs behind her.

Everything looked like bloody flesh. Every blade of grass felt like rusty nails driven through her feet. She felt like she was coiled in the death grip of an anaconda.

“Stop! Stop! You’re gonna hurt yourself!” He tightened his grip on her and used one leg to pin both of hers against his other one. She was completely entangled in him again and the familiarity of his cologne instantly calmed her, he thought. As fell completely limp, relief deluged his psyche only to be matched with her sudden convulsions.

She slipped into a violent seizure, shaking and jarring her body as he lowered her onto the ground and to her side. Hotch and Emily fell beside him and he watched blood seep from her nose and mix with the medley of blood on her lips. He was whimpering as he tried to relax her muscles and barking orders to the others surrounding him. Eventually, her shaking form was taken by the EMTS who were already on the scene. He stood in the wake of the scene, bodies strewn about him wondering what she saw him as that terrified her so.

She was treated for an overdose in the hospital and as Reid entered her room he saw her small figure curled up on the hospital bed. He felt his heart shatter for the hundredth time that night as he floated toward her like a ghost. Placing his hand on her arm, she jumped suddenly startling him as well. He didn’t expect her to be awake so soon. if

“Jesus,” he breathed out, clutching his chest.

She flipped over to face him and couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “Dork,” she said hoarsely. The way her inflection cracked made him frown in response.

“I don’t even,” he struggled to find the right words, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry? I tried to kill you, Spencer,” she began to recollect the happenstances, “I could have killed you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know it’s going to be hard for us to get back to normal.”

“You had ten times a normal recreational dose of LSD in your system. That wasn’t you,” he assured.

She nodded softly and scooted back, patting the vacant place beside her on the hospital bed.

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you,” as the sentence stumbled out of his mouth he couldn’t help but start crying again.

He was surprised he didn’t bawl himself into dehydration on the way to the hospital. She reached up and grabbed his wrist, leading him down to her where he crawled beside her.

Cupping his face in her hands she felt the sticky coagulation of tears that caked his face. Pulling him toward her, their lips locked and worked against one another before completely enveloping one another in devotion.

Pulling away she caught his glassy irises with hers, “You could never hurt me. Not really,” she replied.

“But I did. I told you to leave me alone and you left and had to go through…” he decided not to bring up the trauma.

She couldn’t remember the trip itself, only what she did during it. He didn’t want to bring it up and trigger an acid flashback.

“I left because I was hurt, yeah, but you didn’t hurt me. I felt so guilty about leaving Clara with the unsub that I thought making you that tea would help me feel better. We should have just stayed in the field, maybe we could have caught him before he killed anyone,” she sighed.

Reid nodded and kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead, then peppered the rest of her face with the same affection.

She ran her fingers over the skin on his arm and felt raised scar tissue in her wake. Looking down, bruises and scars were freckles across the pale vastness of his arm. She choked back, her hand falling to her lips.

“Did I do this to you?” She asked, her eyes glued to the cuts now.

He craved for her relief so he shook his head. “I don’t remember where I got them but it wasn’t because of you,” He lied. Realistically, she’d clawed and cut his arms until she began seizing. The cocktail of drugs in her system left him a stranger to her while she was high.

She nodded, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“There’s no way we could have known. I need you to not blame yourself for this because if you do I won’t be able to live with myself. This wasn’t anyone’s fault,” he snaked his arms around her waist carefully, avoiding her bandages.

“I know, I know,” she sighed and nestled into the crook of his neck, “I promise I won’t make you anymore occultist migraine tea.”

He pulled his chin from resting at the top of her head to look at her. He suddenly cupped her cheeks now and made sure she understood.

“Please, never stop making me migraine tea again,” he said before pulling her into a kiss again.

FULL SUMMARY:

Reid and Reader are dating when a case involving the occult dredges up turmoil between the happy couple. The case being difficult enough, the resemblance between the Reader and the victims leaves Reid uneasy. After Reader disrupts the Unsub’s routine she becomes a target. After Reid fights with the Reader because of a migraine, she is taken hostage by unsub and is drugged with LSD and nearly shoots Spencer while tripping.

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