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pastelpatchh · 2 years

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Without me

Character: Satoru Gojo

Pairings: Gojo x fem!Reader

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Word count: 1.2k +

Genre: Angst/fluff

Pov: You missed him, you were angry and afraid for all the right reasons, he will protect you, he loves you, he’s sorry.

a/n: ahhhhh I haven’t really written on Gojo so I decided to give it a try. Here’s my attempt at Gojo trying to apologise for accidentally putting Y/n in danger .

Gojo, the man who made it his duty to never make you frown since the day he met you, is startled at your distant behaviour. He first thought you were pretending but after sometime he realised you weren’t joking, yes, you were mad at him.

You were sitting on the couch, waiting for Satoru to come back home from one of his trips. The apartment was silent, each passing minute made the uneasiness sprout in your belly, your eyes darting to the clock.

Finally, the door clicks open and your tall boyfriend strolls in,

“Saturo” his name is a whisper of relief on your tongue.

“Hey there babe, did you miss me?” He coos, walking upto your form and hugging you.

“Plenty, there’s dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry” you smile shortly, and then walk into your shared bedroom. You murmur ‘Goodnight’ before wrapping the sheets around yourself.

He cocked his head to the side, his palm grazing the back of his neck as an odd feeling dawned on him, eyes narrowing behind the sunglasses he wore even at night.

“Um Y/n…?” He asked hesitantly approaching your side of the bed, normally you would spend loads of time with him after he would return from his business trips.

Tonight was different, and he was beginning to understand it wasn’t exactly a good sign.

“Is something wrong?” He whispers, resting an arm on your back and brushing your hair,

“Hm? Yeah, no, no I’m just tired, it’s been a…a long day” you yawn and turn away from him. A feeling of dejection deflates his bubbly mood from before and not some time later he crawls in beside you.

“Care to explain anything? Satoru?” You finally say, turning onto your back and you stare at the ceiling, “I thought you were sleepy” he said, voice low but wary.

“Well, I would sleep but I’m still wondering where the hell you went without telling me first. You just disappear for two days or more without any warning? Do you even know what it feels like having you vanish every now and then- especially with those-“ you suck in a breath of air,

“I rea-“

“You know what, never mind” you huff, thinking it was no use yelling this late at night.

“This was really urgent, and I just had to go”

“Great, that solves everything”

“I really mean it. I would explain if you give me a chance”

Silence on your end.

“Y/n?” He questioned, glancing over at you. You had turned away.

The next morning, your awake before him. Standing in the kitchen preparing breakfast, you don’t hear him walk into the living room a gasp escaping you when you feel arms wrap around your waist.

“Morning” he’s mumbling into your hair, normally you wouldn’t fight this moment but right now your brain is still replaying last night.

Of course you wanted an explanation from him, but right now you also wanted some distance.

“Morning” you mumble wriggling out of his grasp and heading to the living room, he’s trying to grab your wrist but you make it a brisk trip to the table.

You have both, his and your plate.

Placing his plate far from yours you take a seat across the table and silently begin eat. He awkwardly strolls upto you, he sits down and sips the orange juice from a glass kept on the table.

“That’s mine” you reply, eyes not meeting his.

He freezes mid action and he places the glass back on the table, grimacing as he exhaled. His appetite for the pancakes you made dissipated quickly with your tone, his blue eyes desperate to catch glimpse of your e/c coloured ones so he could find the emotion beneath them.

He begins to say something,

“Let’s talk after we’re done eati-” you say,

“Y/n please talk to me” his voice sounded like he was trying to hold a ton of words inside, gulping, he continued.

“Tell me, tell me everything, I need to hear you say something” he swipes his hands across his face, almost steadying himself for what you were going to say.

“Let’s talk then” you say,

“Satoru, do you remember what you said when we started dating?”

His eyes wander across your face, trying to grasp at what you were trying to get at. The main reason he started to date you was…

“…I said you were the only one capable of making me feel normal”

“That’s changing” you say bluntly.

“What do you mean?”

“The last time you left I thought I was imagining it, but now I’m sure it’s not something wrong with me. I don’t know how exactly to say this…you’d probably think I’m joking”

He winces, because you roll your eyes at your last line. You walk over to the windows,

“You know what I see down there? You’d probably say cars, people, pets, but you’re missing one thing”

He approached the windows,

“I can see that thing behind the shadows, that creature sitting on the woman shoulder. That thing over there, sitting on top of the streetlight” you frown,

“And you know what I see at night? They’re climbing up the windows, Satoru. They’re scratching the glass, the doors…me”

His head whips to you revealing the oblong scar across your lower belly, his eyes widening.

“Y/n…”

“This time when you were gone, this happened. The last time I think I narrowly escaped”

Gojo was stunned, he was more than guilty, he felt a weight crash onto his heart. Everything he hoped would not happen was happening, he wanted you away from this part of his life, but you got attacked.

He was silent, his head hung low.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, I never wanted this to happen” you finally look at him, eyes meeting.

His heart sank when he saw the look on your face.

“All the times I’d leave, I wanted to go discreetly so you’d never see what I was actually doing. I was afraid, you’d become attached to something you had nothing to do with in the first place”

“I knew the possibilities of things that could happen, ever since I was with you”

He reaches forward hesitantly, and you let him pull you into his chest, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it…you felt the safest you’ve ever felt in his arms.

“Y/n, I never wanted to drag you into this. I thought distance would solve everything…I promise, I’ll never let you get hurt again. I’m sorry”

You stayed silent, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

“So, am I in danger?” You look up at him,

“When I’m around, never” he smiled.

Finally, slowly, you gather yourself to push yourself closer against him and wrap your arms around him as well.

“The next time you need to g-“

“I’ll have someone watch over you. I don’t think I would be able to forgive myself if I took you along and something happened to you”

At this, the smallest sigh escapes your lips.

“I’m glad we spoke then” you say, he grabs your hand and leads you back to the table.

“Me too, let’s eat, I’m starving”

Satoru did feel guilty for letting this happen to you. Part of him loathed his carelessness, but he was here now, with you, to keep you safe.

Not very far away, standing amongst the dark of the alleyways a man glanced up at the window where you and Satoru were last seen.

It was a tall building and your figures were bleak and weary, but he knew. He knew where you were.

He knew where to send the curses.

He knew when Satoru wasn’t around.

He knew you were Satorus’ weakness.

Looking at the window one last time, Geto Suguru disappeared into the shadows once again.

#gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu kaisen

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nicad13 · 1 year

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Crossroads: Chapter 1

The Refugees

Summary: Still reeling from the battle on Nevarro, Din begins the search for his son’s people when he finds his first lead sooner than expected in the form of an enemy sorcerer survivor of Order 66.

Two Force-sensitives and a Mandalorian, ancestral enemies, struggle together to heal and grow. They must stand together to overcome their pasts. They must stand together when Din’s faith in the Way is shattered by a devastating truth. They must stand together if they are to end Moff Gideon’s pursuit.

Maybe, with a little help from an AWOL Rebel Shocktrooper, they can.

"I won’t ever forgive myself for that. Every time I put this armor on, I do it so I can protect you. It doesn’t belong to me. I bought it with your life. It belongs to you."

Notes: My version of Season 2 because I'm impatient and my brain won't shut up. Posting an old fic to hopefully get some comments and inspiration to push me to complete the sequel by the end of Season 3! AO3 link in the Source at the end!

Warnings: PTSD, more as we go along...

---

Pinche migra Déjame en paz

Fucking [Homeland Security] Leave me alone

Santana, Migra

A Mandalorian in full beskar armor, standing over a dead Twi’lek, hand still shaking as he lowered his blaster.

The image blurred and shifted.

The same Mandalorian, standing on a rocky and frozen landscape, cloak billowing in the wind. A Rebel Shocktrooper standing next to him, shouldering an enormous gun. The Mandalorian activated the lightsaber hilt in his hand.

The blade was yellow.

The image blurred and shifted again.

Rez cast her eyes about the caf, starlight filtering in through the great glass canopy above. She found Eagle, her favorite clone, in the corner by himself, the distinctive red and blue stripes on his armor visible from the far side of the hall. She walked over as fast as her little legs would carry her, dinner tray in hand, and joined him, sitting across the table.

“Good evening, ad’ika,” he said with a warm smile, helmet beside him on the table. “Late dinner for the younglings tonight?”

She swallowed the fork full of food she had already stuffed into her mouth. “My class just got back from Ilum.” The next words came out in an eager whisper. “I found my kyber crystal.”

“Congratulations!” he said, dipping his fork back into his meal. “May you show me?”

She grinned, pulling it from the secured pouch slung around her shoulder. Opening her palm, it glowed a brilliant yellow.

“Sentinel then,” Eagle nodded. “You never could decide if you were a fighter or a tech-head.”

Rez stuck her tongue out at him as she replaced the crystal in its pouch. “I can be both.”

He reached across the table and ruffled her hair. “Mir’sheb verd.” Smartass warrior.

“Vor’e, ba’vodu.” Thank you, uncle.

His smile faded with a sudden furrow of his brow and his fork dropped from his hand.

At the same time, Rez felt her stomach tie itself into a knot, and she almost vomited the few bites she had already put down.

“That… can’t be right…” he muttered to himself, hand drifting to his helmet. Rez could hear the chatter from the com unit within.

“Order 66. Commence Order 66.”

Run. She heard the word in her head. Felt it in her chest. Run.

She ran. She ducked as a blaster bolt zinged over her shoulder, just grazing her. She recognized it as coming from Eagle’s weapon. Screams filled the hall. The other clones opened fire on the rest of her class as she escaped through the exit.

The corridor was no better. Clones firing on Jedi, caught unsuspecting but fighting back, deflecting the blasts with their lightsabers, shielding the younglings as much as possible. Up, her instincts, the Force, told her. No one ever looks up. A ventilation cover was at her knee. She pulled it off the wall, ducked inside the shaft, put her back to one wall, her feet to the other, and chimney-shuffled her way up until she reached a horizontal duct.

The nursery. The really little younglings. She had to get them out. Just a short crawl. Blaster shots and screams rang out in the corridor below, but she managed to avoid any bolts that got deflected into the shaft. When she reached the nursery chamber, she looked down through the vent cover to see a Jedi enter the room. Anakin. She breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone could save them, he could.

And then he drew his lightsaber.

Rez froze.

Oh, god. Oh, god no.

They were helpless. They were no more than toddlers. Ten seconds later, they were no more than blood and meat strewn on the floor. Rez bit down on her own hand to keep herself from screaming. Anakin was at the door by then, but his head snapped back around, as if he’d heard a survivor. Shut up, the inner voice said. She pulled her hand out of her mouth, closed her eyes, and closed her mind.

Still, she could see Anakin Skywalker’s eyes as they found her though the grates of the vent cover. Red. Bloodshot.

Fully consumed by the Dark Side.

---

Rayne woke up screaming.

Home. She was home. Her home for the last five years. She turned her head to the window, looking out into the yard of her hangar, still dark this time of night. Empty.

She sank back into her bed and pulled the covers up to her ears, forcing herself to calm down.

The nightmare from more than thirty years ago was a recurring, if uncommon one. A previous life. A previous name. The bits before that, with the Mandalorian… those were new. She hadn’t seen a Mandalorian in ages. She had no idea what brought that part on.

Sometimes the Force just liked to mess with you.

She closed her eyes, willing herself back to sleep.

She had a gunship scheduled to arrive first thing tomorrow, and she had to be ready for it.

---

Rayne cast a wary eye on the ship as it settled into the hangar. A nice enough model, but ships that size and shape were generally used by two kinds of people: small-batch cargo haulers who needed guns on their boats to fend off pirates, and bounty hunters. The first were good enough folks. Just trying to make their way in the galaxy. The second… well. Bounties did tend to be actual bad guys after the fall of the Empire. Rebel activists were no longer actively targeted anyway, so she supposed that the fewer real criminals who were running around, the better. The problem was with the kinds of people who were good at rounding them up. Violent. Cunning. Deadly. It all came down to the motivation. Did they enjoy the idea of making the universe a safer place? Or did they enjoy the opportunities to be violent, cunning, and deadly?

The rear ramp lowered to reveal a Mandalorian. She frowned.

The same Mandalorian from her dream the previous night.

She pushed the thought aside. Sometimes the Force would throw you curveballs. You just had to roll with it. The bigger issue was the implied profession of her new client. A bounty hunter.

She left the shadow of the overhang to greet him as he strode down, lowering the shades from the top of her head to cover her eyes, meeting him at the end of the ramp. A good third of her business was with bounty hunters, and their money was just as good as everyone else’s. Given the amount of actual beskar this one was wearing, his would be quite good, indeed. “Whaddya’ need?”

He pulled out a checklist of issues. “It’s been about a year since the last overhaul. Had a lot of action since.”

She took the list and gave it a quick once-over. Intermittent fuel leak, rattles, slow cycling, spotty nav, hyperdrive degradation. Mostly standard stuff, but a few things could be tricky. Nothing she wouldn’t be able to figure out. “You know my policy.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “I’m not trafficking slaves. Hold’s empty. No contraband.”

She gave half a shrug. “I don’t care so much about contraband. But if I find Senator Organa’s severed head in there, you’re a goner.”

A sound that might have been a laugh barked out from the helmet followed by a vibe of, What would you do about it if you did? None the less, his verbal response was, “It’s clean. But no droids. Your work only.”

She pushed the list back into his hand. “No bots, no work. I’ve programmed them myself. They won’t make any mistakes that I wouldn’t make.”

He stood in silence, the hand with the list still raised. When he hadn’t said anything after a five-count, she turned and walked back to the shade of the overhang. “You heard me. I don’t want your money if you’re that racist about droids. Go somewhere else.” If the Mandalorian had done enough research to know her service policy, he also knew she was the best mechanic and test pilot in the system. He could take it or leave it.

A long, frustrated sigh grated through the helmet’s modulator. “Fine.” She stopped and turned, accepting the list as he handed it back to her. “What’ll this run me?”

“Five hundred New Republic credits, or a reasonable equivalent upfront. I’ll hold off on anything else I might find until I talk to you about it.”

“Will twelve-thousand Calamari work?”

She tilted her head, running the math. It was actually a little over, but it would be tougher to exchange, so it seemed fair enough. “Sure.”

He tipped his head in agreement. “Another thousand for one more service.”

“What might that be?”

“Give me a moment.”

“Sure.”

He turned and headed back up the ramp, cloak billowing out behind him. She did a gut-check while she waited. He seemed a little more anxious than most other bounty hunters who landed in her shop, particularly for a Mandalorian. They tended to be ice-cold. Other than that and the anti-droid tick, he seemed fine. No underlying malevolence, at the very least.

She almost doubled over when her stomach made a sudden shift to the middle of her throat.

The Mandalorian had reappeared at the top of the ramp, rifle slung across his back, a bag of money in his hand.

And a small, green, round-eyed, large-eared baby settled in the crook of his arm.

Her heart hammered at the inside of her chest as she managed a few steps in their direction, the Mandalorian closing the rest of the distance between them. “I have some work in town. I’d rather leave him here.” She leaned forward, lifting the shades from her eyes with one hand, reaching out with a finger of the other to meet the baby’s grip, keeping her hands steady through sheer force of will. The baby’s ears pricked up as he smiled and laughed at her. “He likes you.”

“He’s a good judge of character. May I?”

“Of course.”

She moved to accept the baby in her arms, her mind flooding. The baby gurgled as the bounty hunter ran an affectionate finger along the top of one ear. All evidence indicated that he was happy and healthy. This explained the Mandalorian’s earlier anxiety, then. She was familiar with their affinity for foundlings. He was probably on his way back to his covert with the little one.

A savior as well as a bounty hunter, then.

She could definitely work with this.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“Mando is fine.”

She cast him a skeptical look. “A little generic, but since you’re probably the only one in the system at the moment, it’ll serve.” She looked back down at the bundle in her arms. “What’s this guy’s name?”

Another silent pause. “He doesn’t have one, yet.”

She kept her expression neutral. He may have picked the baby up recently, but it was wise to not ask too many unnecessary questions. But one more question was unavoidable. “What does he like to eat?”

“Um… frogs and toads, mostly. Whole. Live. Or whatever else he can manage to catch. He’ll eat soup, too. He likes to sit in the sun and watch when I work on the ship. Don’t worry if he manages to swallow a wrench. You’ll… get it back in the morning.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You can keep it and I’ll charge you for a new one.”

Another tip of the head in agreement. “Fair enough.” He handed her the money. “I may not be back until morning. He likes to sleep in the crate by the bunk, but he’ll want to be near you, so you can move it wherever you need to. He shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“I’ll add it to your bill if he is.”

The Mandalorian gave a gloved finger to the baby to clutch for a few more moments. “Be good. I’ll be back.” He paused, maintaining contact with the baby, as if awaiting confirmation. After a moment, he straightened and turned to face her full-on. “Thank you.” He turned and strode out of the hangar.

The baby watched him leave, ears flattening against his head. When Mando stepped out and disappeared through the doorway, he frowned and emitted a small whine. She bounced him a few times in her arms to distract him, and he brought his face up to meet her gaze, his smile returning. She ran a finger along the top of an ear, mimicking Mando’s earlier gesture. “You’ve had some adventures lately, haven’t you?”

The baby cooed.

“I bet you like shiny things.” He responded with another amicable gurgle. “I wonder…” She carried him back into the shop, rifled through a few drawers, then came up with what she was looking for. She went back outside where the sun’s rays glinted off of the perfectly-polished bearing. Indeed, the baby reached for it with enthusiastic little fingers. She let him hold it for a bit, watching as he put his mouth around it and spin it with his hands. After a few moments, she picked it back up and held it aloft, smiling. “Ready?”

The baby clapped.

She under-handed and threw it straight up in the air. The baby watched its ascent, spreading his hands wide as it descended.

And stopped it in mid-air just at the point where it had left her hand a moment ago, hands outstretched, nothing between them and the hovering ball, letting out a peal of delighted laughter.

“I thought so,” she said.

---

Din felt the tension in his chest release as he heard the kid’s laughter over the top of the hangar walls.

No getting scolded by this mechanic, at least.

The kid had been clingy and difficult to console after departing Nevarro a week ago; understandable, given all they had been through. Suffering from pounding headaches and recognizing that they both needed a break, he’d set down at a market, spent all the money he had left on meat, bone broth, and veggies, picked an empty spot on the map, set the Razor Crest adrift, and they’d done nothing but eat and sleep for the next three days. On the fourth, he woke up, realized he no longer felt like death warmed over, put a call in to Karga to pull a string for an easy-yet-lucrative bounty, and got to work on removing his own blood from his clothes and the inside of his helmet. By the time he finished, Karga’s response had come through. Two days later, he’d had the bounty rounded up and been paid enough to finally set the Razor Crest to rights.

So here they were.

Mechanics were just like any other skilled profession. Some had a code, some didn’t. Some who had a code were masters of their trade, some were crap. Rayne Rollins was known as a master mechanic with a code; she chose her clientele as much as they chose her. He’d been wanting to take the ‘Crest to her for years; he knew she was expensive, but she wouldn’t cheat him, and he finally had enough money to afford her now that he was back with the Guild. Whether she and the kid would take to each other was a pure gamble, but it had rolled in his favor. He trusted the kid’s judgment implicitly. If the introduction had gone poorly, he’d have lifted off and tried somewhere else.

But god, that would’ve been a huge pain in the ass. The price of letting her use droids on his ship was worth it. He’d lucked out on this part of his day.

He was disappointed that Cara had decided to stay on Nevarro. She was dependable. She was tough. She got it done. And if something happened to him, he needed someone to pick up where he left off. He’d looked his own death in the face, reflected in IG-11’s optics when the droid removed his helmet, and he really, really did not want to do that again. If Nevarro had taught him anything, it was that he couldn’t do this alone.

It had also taught him that anyone who took the opportunity to help him could very well pay for it with their lives.

Kuiil. IG. Almost the entire damn covert.

Cara had beaten the odds with him twice. He knew she had the stones to survive whatever he led her through. But he had to acknowledge that she and the kid weren’t always on the same page. That was something that could probably resolve itself over time, but he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be cooped up in an enclosed environment with a deadly-strong baby who had almost killed her.

He had to choose carefully. And he was starting over from scratch.

---

He returned to the hangar sometime in the middle of the night, surprised to see Rayne still awake, seated by a small fire ring, flame still lit, turning what looked like three pairs of frog legs on a spit. The kid was next to her in his crate, sitting up and playing with a large bearing almost the size of his head. They were both looking at him as he came through the entryway as if they knew he was coming, the kid’s ears pricked up and mouth smiling.

Had his footsteps been so loud?

He crossed the hangar to the kid’s outstretched hands, picking him up and setting him into the crook of his left arm. His eyes, big and wide a few moments ago, now began to narrow with sleep. “It’s late for him to still be up.”

Rayne shrugged. “He got a few good naps in today. Been staring at the entry since it got dark. I don’t think he wanted to fall asleep for the night without you.”

That seemed reasonable. “Did he eat?”

“Caught three toads and swallowed them whole. Caught six more and gave them to me. I had no idea I had such a toad infestation in my own hangar. I hope you like frog legs. There’s three more pair on a plate up on the flight deck. You’ll want to eat them before we talk about how things went today.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t realize how famished he was until the suggestion. Still, he first returned his gaze to the kid, who had fallen asleep. All seemed well with him, then. Din returned him to his crate and wrapped him in his blanket before heading up the ramp. He climbed up to the flight deck, locked the door, and took a look out of the port windscreen. Rayne was still sitting with her back to the Razor Crest, pulling the frog legs off of the spit and onto her own plate.

Good enough.

He slumped into the pilot’s chair, heaving a sigh, closing his eyes for a few moments before he could bring himself to do anything else. Things had gone well enough today. He’d found a quick local bounty, brought him in, and got paid enough to cover a month’s worth of supplies and fuel. Enough to get them started for what lay ahead. Still, it had been a long one. Knowing it would only get longer if he didn’t get moving, he brought his hands to his helmet and lifted it off of his head for the first time in nearly a day, placing it on the side console. He took his gloves off and placed them next to the helmet.

The frog legs smelled wonderful. The bread next to them smelled good, too. He picked up the plate, realizing it was still warm. A glass of water and a mug of beer were next to it, still cold. Rayne’s timing was suspiciously excellent. He let the thought slide as he dove in. The meal was simple. Frog had always tasted to him like chicken that had been sitting next to fish in a refrigerator for several days, but he liked it well enough. The beer was a light ABV, just enough to take the edge off the day without pulling him down too far. The water washed it all down with a clean finish. Anxiety about what Rayne had to say driving off the drowsiness he by all other rights would be feeling at the moment, he hauled himself out of the chair, took another look out the window, and confirmed that she was still in her place by the fire. She was a slow eater, only now just starting on her second pair of frog legs, the kid still zonked out in the crate next to her. He picked up his gloves, put his helmet under his arm, and opened the door to the hold. He was still for a moment, listening. Watching. When he was satisfied no one was out there, he descended and headed to the sink.

He went about flossing and brushing his teeth quickly, not wanting to take too long about it with the rear ramp down. Still, he took a brief moment of inspection before the mirror. The usual olive-skinned face stared back at him. He was much darker when he was young, when he had been free to play in the sun. No bruises today, the bloodshot had finally left the whites in his eyes, his pupils were symmetrical, no more blood to wash off. The stubble on his jaw was getting too long – it came in patchy, brushed up under the helmet, and bugged him. He’d have to shave within the next day or two. His hair had been too long for a while, now. He’d tried shaving that down all the way a few times too, but the bristles felt weird under the helmet. It laid flatter when it was several centimeters longer. Now, after a long day and several months since the last cut, it was a disheveled mess. Not quite curly, not quite straight, just damp and wavy. Before the kid, he’d been free to cut it whenever he needed to and wander about his own ship without the helmet to let it dry. He hadn’t figured out a better system to work around his guest, yet.

Not guest. Son.

Later.

For now, he regarded the sweaty disarray of his own reflection. Remember who you are. Remember who you are not. This is the Way.

He slipped the helmet back over his head and headed down the ramp.

He found Rayne still by the fire, empty plate on the ground by her chair, legs stretched out, cradling a half-empty mug of beer, gazing into the flames. He regarded her for a moment. A few shades over a meter and a half, lean, curly brown hair swept forward at the top of her head and buzzed short at the back, bleached at the tips. He’d noted the blue of her deep-set eyes earlier in the day. Fair-skinned. Not beautiful by any means, but she probably would have been called cute in her younger days. He would have placed her in her late-thirties were it not for the hints of crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t look threatening, but he’d noticed a distinct lack of security droids and other gear that was otherwise common at spacecraft hangars. As good as her mechanical reputation was, it couldn’t possibly be good enough on its own to protect her from the collapse that the rest of society was undergoing.

Could it?

“You can stand there all night or you can put the plates in the tub by the door.”

“Oh... sure, yeah.” He picked up her plate, stacked it with his own, and placed them in the indicated tub by the shop door. He noted her gaze follow him as she watched his return to the kid. He knelt to the small bundle in the crate, picked him up, and headed to the other chair by the fire, placed so his back was to the ship but he still had a clear view of Rayne and the exit. Odd how she had placed the chair exactly where he would have wanted it. He settled his weight into it and snuggled the kid into the crook of his elbow, taking a moment to watch as the kid shifted and gave a contented burble, lids still closed. “What do I owe you for dinner?”

She shook her head, gaze returned to the fire. “Your boy caught enough for all of us. I just cooked it. Consider that one settled up.”

He tilted his head in thanks. “What else did you want to discuss?”

“Are you familiar with Master Yoda?”

“No.”

“Are you familiar with the Jedi?”

“… Yes.”

“Master Yoda was the most powerful of all the Jedi. He was also the same species as your boy.”

“… Oh.” Din had the sinking feeling that he was about to get a scolding from this mechanic after all. “What species is that?”

Rayne shook her head, to his mix of relief and disappointment. “I don’t know, actually. No one else seems to, either.” She paused, looked down into her beer, then brought the mug up to take several swallows. She set it on the ground and picked up the bearing that the kid had been playing with earlier, turning it over in her hands, watching as the flames reflected off of the smooth surface. “Are you familiar with the Force?”

The Force. He imagined it capitalized as written, the way she said it. By now, he knew damn well what it was, between the kid’s well-timed demonstrations and some further enlightenment from the Armorer. Didn’t mean he understood it, though, and he didn’t understand why a mechanic on an Outer Rim planet was asking him about it, so he decided to play stupid. “No.”

“I think you are.”

Was he really that bad of a liar? “I don’t understand.”

“You missing any forks? Spoons?”

“What?” He was, actually. He was thankful for his habit of tucking the kid into his left arm, leaving his right hand free for his blaster.

Rayne shook her head. “I found about half a dozen of each stuck to the ceiling of the hold. Every single one sunk half-way through metal plate. Someone’s been launching small objects around in there, and I’m pretty sure it’s not you. I need you to be honest with me, here. Your boy is Force-sensitive.”

He could answer with nothing but stony silence.

“I’ll make this easy for you.” She turned her head to look at him, holding the bearing out in one hand. She gave it a lazy toss in his direction.

Before he could move to catch it, the kid’s eyes snapped open and his hands reached out, and he held it in mid air, eye-level with Din’s helmet. The kid giggled and bounced it in the air.

Rayne heard what she swore was Din’s teeth click shut through the modulator. “How did you know?” His voice, previously a smooth tenor, was now cracking.

She whistled and motioned with her hand, and the kid tossed the bearing back to her. Again, before it could land in her hand, it hovered in mid-air above her palm. She turned back to the fire, tossed the ball back and forth above both hands a few times, then let it drop to her fingertips, watching it land in her lap. “I am, too.”

“You’re one of them? You’re a Jedi?”

“No. Just Force-sensitive. In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that makes it possible for me to know your emotional state. I can’t read your mind and your beskar limits the range, but I can’t help but notice what you project if I’m right next to you. Same goes for him.”

Din looked back down at the kid, and indeed, the corners of his eyes and ears were pulled down with fear. Din stuffed his own fear down and cradled him tightly. “Sorry, kid,” he whispered. He took a deep breath, not sure if he could summarize everything adequately. “I picked him almost a year ago – he was a bounty. I bailed on it. We were on the run until last week when we… got the bounty lifted.”

“I did some reading.” Rayne was once again turning the ball over in her hands. “Your story lines up with what I saw about Nevarro. The first time you took off with him, the Imp raid on the covert, the Imps you mowed down last week.” She paused, watching the flames flicker in the bearing’s surface. “You might be interested to know that Moff Gideon survived.”

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit.

“Since you’re back in the good graces of the Guild, he’s probably going to come after you himself, now.”

Din’s heart sank to his knees. Back on the run again. “I’m sorry. We’ll leave right now so we won’t draw him to you.” He started to get up from the chair, but something pushed him down. “What?”

She could feel his accusation. “That’s not me. That’s him. He’s a lot stronger than I am, and he knows you don’t have to leave.”

“Why not?”

Rayne lifted her gaze up to the sky, and only then did he notice the metal lattice work forming a dome over the hangar, interrupting the view of the stars overhead. “You mostly got your wish today. I had the bots build that while I worked on your ship. It should scramble whatever fobs Gideon is using while you’re under it.”

“We’re trapped here.”

“For now, yes. I think I can design a scrambling system for your ship, but that’ll cost you another three thousand Calamari.”

“Ok.”

“I’m pretty sure I can develop personal units, but that could take a while. I’m not sure how long… there’s a lot of ways for it to go wrong on that scale. Bounty hunters would’ve been out of work ages ago if it was easy.”

“But we would be safe.”

“Safer… ish, yeah. Fobs aside, you two aren’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“Do it. Whatever it takes. I’ll get you the money.” Free. We can be free.

“You can be free. Him… I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

Again, her gaze was focused back to the bearing. “The Force… it’s like any other kind of power. Put a lot of it in any one place, and things go very badly very quickly if it’s not managed properly. Your boy is a sweet little frog-eating ball of laughs now, but what do you think will happen when he gets to be an adolescent?”

Din recalled his own adolescence. He had donned his helmet by then and had been well into his training. None the less, things had been difficult more often than not. Questioning whether he’d made the right decision, questioning whether he was worthy, hating the circumstances that had stripped him of other options, hating the world that robbed him of his parents. What would he have done with the power to lift a mudhorn? “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. We have to find his people.”

“… We?”

“You,” she corrected. “You have to find his people.”

“That’s the plan. This is our last stop to get the ship tuned up and stock supplies. I wasn’t expecting to get a lead so soon. Do you know how to reach the Jedi?”

She shook her head. “Order 66.”

“I don’t understand.” God, he’d been saying that a lot, tonight.

“Order 66. Decommission all Jedi with lethal force. Carried out by the clone troopers.” She paused, letting that sink in. “The clones were ordered to kill the Jedi, and they complied.” She turned her head toward Din, her eyes locked on his visor. “Jango Fett was the clone template.”

Din met her gaze the best he could, could almost feel the air buzz around him, could definitely feel the kid squirm in his arms. “There’s… some debate about whether Jango Fett was Mandalorian. He was from Mandalore, but he may not have sworn the Creed.”

“The clones’ armor was an homage to the Mandalorians. They adopted Mandalorian customs. They spoke the Mandalorian language. And they murdered my people.”

“You said you weren’t a Jedi.”

“I never got the chance.”

Her gaze was now a cold, hard, stare. Her fingers gripped the bearing in her lap, and he could see her chest rise and fall in hard, even draws. The sound of his own breath in his helmet nearly drowned it all out.

“I’m sorry.”

It was all he could think of to say.

She took a final, long breath, then relaxed and turned back to the fire. “That was the correct response. Thank you.”

Din sat back in his chair, loosening his grip on the kid, but remained silent, not knowing enough about the conflict between the Jedi and his own people to say anything intelligible about it, but knowing that this was not the time. It all sounded eerily similar to the Great Purge, the Empire’s slaughter of his own people and the destruction of Mandalore itself.

Rayne filled in the gaps. “All this is to say that I’m not fond of the idea of hiding behind armor. Hiding behind uniformity. It has a way of making it easier for people to hide from the things they’ve done. Hide behind their orders. All the more reason I admire you for taking off with the kid. Somehow you managed to break through the uniformity and do the right thing. I want you to understand this – the sight of your armor freaks me out a little. But I can see through it, to some degree. I see the guy who’s under all the beskar, who put it all on the line to save what you thought was only a baby. You also need to understand that you may very well have saved the strongest power of the Force in the universe. You’re going to need that armor to continue to protect it. Do you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

Now it was Din’s turn to gaze into the guttering fire. The armor felt heavy on his chest as he breathed under it. “I’m beginning to.”

“Ok.” Rayne got up and spread out the coals. “I’m beat. So are you. Let me know when you’re ready to start in the morning.” She shuffled out of the yard toward the door to the shop.

“My name is Din,” he called, voice soft, just before she went through the door.

She stopped and turned back to face him. “What?”

He paused, surprised at himself, as well. Then he realized it didn’t matter. Gideon had already let the loth-cat out of the bag. If that asshole could know his name, then the person in the best position to help him and the kid right now could know it, too. Her face was unreadable in the starlight, but he chose not to switch to a more sensitive spectrum. He had his mask. He would allow Rayne hers, for the moment. “My name is Din. Din Djarin. I’d rather that didn’t get around too far, but I won’t hide from you.”

She was still for a moment, the silence broken by a gentle coo from the kid. “Good to meet you, Din Djarin.” She turned and stepped through the door into the darkness.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu

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maniacwatchestheworld · 2 years

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I was chatting with @penquinlori and just hear me out... SubMas Kingdom Hearts AU!

They brought up a good point! Emmet and Ingo certainly have the stupid shoes to be in Kingdom Hearts! You just have to put too many zippers and other detailing onto their outfits and they'd fit right in!

And of course once this was put into my brain... I couldn't help but to run with it. And I'm really quite enamored by what we've come up with!

The obvious route for doing Kingdom Hearts but with the Subway Bosses is to make them Keyblade users and give them Oathkeeper and Oblivion, right? I don't know if there are any other keyblades out there that are supposed to be a matching pair, but Oathkeeper and Oblivion are certainly great matches for the two of them. But then again... Ingo and Emmet have this big ol' Black and White motif going on with them... And do you know what also have big Black and White motifs within the Kingdom Hearts franchise...? Heartless and Nobodies...

So there's an idea! Heartless!Ingo and Nobody!Emmet! At first there was some temptation to imagine that they were just a Heartless and Nobody that happened to meet and decided to look like one another... But... What if they were the Heartless and Nobody of the same person...? THINK OF THE ANGST POTENTIAL! :D

I'm just thinking... At first it was just Ingo. Something absolutely terrible happened and Ingo's heart fell to darkness. Ingo became a Heartless and from his body Emmet was created. (Emmet came up with his name all by himself. Ingo's name means 'in.' Since you know... In go. And so the Nobody created from Ingo, the opposite of what Ingo is now that he's a Heartless... His name should mean 'out!' Therefore 'Emmet' from 'emit!') In that way, they're still twins in a sense, with Ingo being the older one! Somehow, some time later, the two find one another, and after reuniting, decide to stay together as they are. They form a close bond and in a very real sense become brothers. They take care of one another and protect each other. Emmet sees Ingo as more than just a mindless beast, only acting on instinct. And Ingo sees Emmet as more than an emotionless empty vessel. At some point, some Keyblade wielder finds the two of them and slays Ingo. After that, Emmet doesn't put up a fight and asks the Keyblade user to destroy him too. Now that Ingo's heart has been released, the two can't exist at the same time anymore. And if that's the case, Emmet is alright with not existing anymore. Because at the very least, if he stops existing, then he and Ingo will be together again. Ingo wakes up and realizes that he's no longer a Heartless. It takes Ingo a little bit longer to realize that Emmet had given up his existence to so that Ingo could live again. And when he realizes that, Ingo is absolutely devastated. The person Ingo cared about the most and the only person who would take care of him when no one else would is gone now. Ceased to exist so that he could live again.

But hey! Happy ending! Some time later, Ingo learns that he has two hearts inside of him! As it turns out, Emmet in the end did have a heart of his own. His emotions were real. And now he just needs to find a way to get Emmet's heart out of him and give him his own body!

Funny enough, this whole idea actually meshes pretty well with the lore in Black and White. Black representing Ideals with Ingo being the Heartless, the disembodied emotions and sense of self while White represents Truth with Emmet being the more emotionally detached Nobody and physical presence between the two. Ingo being the removed essence, much like Zekrom and Reshiram while Emmet is the empty vessel left behind and given life, much like Kyurem. Like... This idea works a LOT better than I actually thought that it would! And I'm really quite enamored with this whole thing now.

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s0urfangs · 1 year

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I gotta toss you Morred. I think that there's a lot of untapped potential between "curious-to-a-fault Chaotic Little Guy artificer" and "curious-to-a-fault Chaotic Little Guy alchemist", and I want to watch the world burn -@alma-draws

OK. THIS IS AN INTERESTING ONE.

They'd be great friends if not for Morreds past. Anything more? God FORBID. Feds needs calming the heck down not hyping up MORE!!

I gotta start adding readmores to my walls, bear with me.

There's some hangups here, so this is probably not what you are expecting from my beloved boy at all - I said in another ask but Fedsy has MASSIVE issues with the nightmare court and their experiments, considering that's why he's a little messed up himself.

If he found out about Morreds background, (Which he most likely would due to his reputation and also activating a rant by asking him about the dream) your guy would be getting 50 types of sarcastic bastard instead of the fun "ooh, what does this do" type.

Morred would proooobably be able to see him lose that enthusiasm and put that barrier up halfway through a conversation if he's astute enough. Can't say Feds recognises it himself since, well, obviously it’s just part of who he is. You are going to have to build his trust and it is going to take a WHILE but he’ll linger anyway because he just wants to know things. Is he your friend? no. maybe. He’s stood 5ft away scowling at you and watching you work but cannot resist pointing out any mistakes you are making or asking about something he finds interesting. He's sulky about this and his apparent lack of self control in terms of just ignoring the guy. He can approach you but you can't approach him or he will THROW KNIVES AT YOU. He needs to pretend he has control here and isn't following an impulse and dealing with so many thoughts inside his brain at once. Shelter cat energy.

There are many sides to Feds; he can be a little volatile, mostly as the story progresses. Sorry Morred. You have to prove yourself. Cause some problems for the right people. I think, eventually, Feds would just start testing him with increasingly chaotic suggestions as for how to enhance his work alongside Feds abilities. He could be tempted to say he’s okay with certain things if he sees the person or their abilities would be of use or interesting to him, but. He’s not. He’s grumping inside his head. maybe plotting. Befriend him fast before he decides he's had/learnt enough and tries something against you. um. If he saw One Thing that just GOT him he would flip, despite potentially treading the line before. He would go feral. Idk, not a Morred example since I'm unsure what exactly he'd do, but if you kicked a dog. you are literally going to die now. He’s on a case by case basis and very emotionally driven.

To be honest even if they were enemies I think it would be funny as hell. like. Feds is attacking him (again, does this once a month). They both see something cool. Stop fighting for a moment, or see something worse than them. both kill that together in SECONDS. Ok cool. Start fighting each other again. everyone is terrified of them. I think they’d have a really volatile friends/enemies/friends again/ work colleagues now/ DIE/ hey nice outfit where did u get that/ relationship. Nobody gets involved they're just like no yeah this is how mesmers make friends its fine its normal.

I like to think they’d eventually end up as friends. feds gets over some stuff. They both do. Maybe. They band together. I dunno, I feel they'd lend themselves well against the mordrem- Feds would happily spend so much time trying to figure out how to turn everything in that jungle against its own, but he really needs someone to help utilise that research. One time they accidentally made a dagger that heals people as soon as you stab them.

Also.

There's no way Fedsy doesn't admire his flair for the dramatic at least a little. He'd bounce off that. 2 theatre kids doing science what will they do.

#a lot of this obviously depends on how morred responds. but #this was INTERESTING and excuse the chaotic writing. fedsy has a chaotic response #morred dude you are properly activating his anxiety stop it hes already stressed hGFBHJB #ocposting #silvpost #fedsy #morred #ask game #THANK YOU FOR SENDING IT IN! god only knows how many words this is lol

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awkwardspontaneity · 3 years

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Hello. This is my first request for the Legend of Zelda, so I do not know how to write it correctly. I don't speak English and I'm writing this in a translator, so there may be mistakes here, sorry. In general, I want to see how the reader will react to the fact that Revali, Link and Sidon cheated on her. (something made me feel sad) Thank you in advance ╹▽╹

I'm so sorry something happened to upset you. If it's along the lines of this request give me a name😤👊 anyways thank you so much for requesting!! This ended up being so much longer than I intended but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope this is what you're looking for!

✨ requests are open✨

Warning: angst, cheating

Revali🐦

I think with his prickly nature not a lot of people would stick around long enough to get to know how much he cares

But some bitch saw how much he was training to perfect his powers to help Hyrule and couldn't resist

It started off as bringing him lunches and heat pads after a long day of training and then it escalated

They would wrap his wings up and suddenly he was letting them fix his braids. He never saw it as much more than a fan helping him out but you saw differently

It ended up in a big fight when you finally brought up how Revali was allowing this fan to hang off of him like they were his partner not you. You brought up excellent points like how he took such a long time to even trust you with braiding his hair and that he could at least let them know he's in a relationship.

Revali got upset (probably cuz ur right and he can't admit it) and snapped that at least they appreciated him

Yeah bad move. You walked out and bird brain left to train away the pain

You came across his first and decided to head to the shooting range with some peace snacks but what do you find?

You walk up the slope towards the archery range, a container of Revali's favourite snacks in hand. As you approach you see something sitting inside the hut and assume it's him. Sterling your breath you walk into the hut and what you find takes your breath away- not in the good way either. Revali sat there with his wings wrapped around them, too caught up on their liplock to notice you standing there.

CRASH

The container hits the ground with a shatter, ruining their little scene.

"Y/n-"

"Don't even try it." You wish your voice didn't sound as broken. No matter how much your heart squeezed in pain from the betrayal, you wanted to come off so much different- angrier. Because you were angry. "Just because we have an argument does not give you the right to run off with your new friend."

Revali flinches at the word and you feel a sick glimmer of satisfaction. He opens his mouth to protest, ignoring your glare. "I-I'm sorry." Your glare darkens and he immediately flounders for the right words. "You accused me of something I didn't do-"

Yeah, not the right words. You wish you could do something, anything to hurt him like he hurt you. But you had to be the bigger person no matter how much you wanted to snap that precious bow of his in half.

"I accused you, not have you permission."

"We can work through this, together" his wing reached out to you, but you recoiled to fast.

"We're not together." You walked towards the entrance "I hope it was worth it."

Link 🗡️

Link is a closed off person. Sure he has people worship him for his title as the hero of Hyrule, but he would never let that get to his head. You could tell this boy he's amazing and it still wouldn't get through his insecurities

Maybe it's cruel but, that almost reassured you he would never break your heart like that. You felt secure in your relationship

That's why it was so shocking when you found out he had fallen for Zelda.

It wasn't meant to ever be more than knight and princess. And you never should have found out.

You were walking towards the stables of your party was staying at. It was supposed to be a simple trip to complete some research out in the plains. Of course your trip was ambushed by an energetic princess who begged to come along for research purposes. You couldn't complain because the addition of the princess also came with your boyfriend Link.

Now you were looking for him outside the small ranch. You fully expected him to be caring for Epona like he always did after a long trip. His love for his horse was something you had always loved about him. The way he would stay later than everyone else to make sure she was okay. It had made stables kind of your spot. Hanging out at the end of a long day to talk and spend time together while caring for your steeds.

Maybe that was why your heart felt so utterly shattered when you did find him, standing next to the stable, with the princess in his arms. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into believing he was being friendly if he hadn't pressed a long loving kiss to her forehead followed by both her cheeks, chuckling softly as she giggled.

You knew they had always been close. I mean they spent all their time together. You'd just never thought that Link would do something like this to you.

You walked away from the stables fighting backs the tears in your eyes. It was only when you found you had walked into an older area, a spare shack outside, that you finally let the tears fall. Your heart twisted in pain as sobs tore from your throat.

Why hasn't you seen this? Why weren't you enough?

------

Your research trip was almost over. You had gone back late into the night to find Link on the edge of his bed head in his hands. He had shot up to demand where you had been when you finally walked in and although he looked like he wanted to argue, he accepted that you had been organizing your research supplies and notes in quiet.

That had been 3 days ago. You had spent the research trip sticking close to your colleagues, poring over each plant and testing their uses. The princess was too distracted with her own interests to really notice how you shied away from her presence. Link had though. And he was about done with you brushing him off in favour of your work. You both were busy so not having time was nothing new. But this was different. You couldn't meet his eyes and he had caught you staring at him and Zelda as if you were about to cry before. He was at a loss and now he needed to figure things out for himself.

However he wasn't quite ready for the answer.

"I saw you and Zelda together."

His throat closed up. He wanted to say so many things. How sorry he was. How he wished he could have told you himself. How he wished he could hold you and forget how complicated things were.

"it's okay." Now that, he wasn't expecting. "I thought I could be mad at you. Both of you. But I guess... It just makes sense." You sniffled softly. You really didn't want to do this. You hated that it had to be you who gave up. But we're you really going to fight? No. As much as it tore your heart into pieces, you would stand aside for them. "I wish that things hadn't changed but, clearly you don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to hold you back. I love you. So much. But I don't deserve this, and I won't put either of us through the trouble. I hope you two are happy together Link."

As you walked towards your friends to head home Link felt his heart clench. You deserved so much better.

Sidon🦈

You were a princess from another kingdom, betrothed to Prince Sidon of the Zora. We all know how these things go, neither of you were all that fond of the idea but you would go through with it. For your kingdoms

You tried to be as understanding as possible of the situations, knowing that the prince was just as trapped as you were. So you played along with your parents wishes.

You two went on dates and spent time together, getting closer and closer until finally you kissed him.

Things were great. You were planning your wedding and enjoying the time you spent with your fiance as you prepared for your future

It wasn't until a few days before the wedding when you were trying on your dress that things fell apart.

Your dressmaker had been in a bad mood, grumbling as they worked and even sticking you with needles a few times. You would have brushed it off as a bad day if not for the facts that they seemed so unapologetic.

You finally brought it up, softly asking if there was something wrong and if you could help. They snapped, going off about how you were ruining the princes life and that he didn't love you and was only marrying you for his kingdom and that he deserved to be happy.

They realized their mistake and left quickly, leaving you alone in your wedding dress with shocked tears slipping down your face.

You later made you way to Sidons office, hoping to clear some things up and maybe seek comfort from the one you loved.

What you didn't expect was to find him already comforting someone. Your dressmaker.

You watched as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to them. It was when he said no matter what they were the one that he loved when you broke away.

You stood in your room, packed bags beside you. You knew there were better ways to deal with this. You knew that your kingdom was counting on you and thus marriage. You just couldn't go through with it. Not anymore.

"Y/n?"

You sound around to find the Zora princess standing in your doorway. Mipha had become a close friend in your time in the Zora domain, even feeling like family as you worked closely planning the wedding. She had once told you that you were everything she could hope for in a sister and wife for her brother. You guessed it didn't matter in the end.

Finally you choked out pained words "I can't... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"If you are feeling nervous, I can assure you my brother would never hurt you."

This made you laugh. It was cold, similar to the ice creeping into your veins. "He would. And he did." You cut off Mipha's confusion, wringing a hand through your hair, "Sidon is in love with someone else. I made every effort to work through this engagement despite our... rocky beginning. But he didn't choose me back. He never wanted me, and I won't ruin his chance to be happy."

The room was silent after your outburst. You only noticed the tears when your friend wiped them from your eyes. She offered you a small smile, sharing the pain you felt. She was losing you and still understood it was best for you. You needed to move on and save yourself from a life of pain. A life of being chosen second.

"I hope one day we can meet again, sister."

You let out a choked mix of a son and laugh. Hugging the princess before you grabbed your bags and walked out the door, out of the kingdom that stole your heart and crushed it in its hands.

"I love you, always."

#loz x reader #loz link x reader #botw link x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #breath of the wild link x reader #link x reader #botw revali x reader #breath of the wild revali x reader #botw sidon x reader #breath of the wild sidon x reader #sidon x reader #revali x reader #asks #awkward responses #angst #cheating #botw x reader

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traumatictouch · 3 years

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why tomura reads like a sexual abuse survivor

ive noticed that a lot of survivors - including me - easily read tomura as a csa survivor. ive decided to try to put these impressions into words, mostly for myself, but also for anyone curious as to why he’s so frequently read this way, or why i personally write him as such. i will mostly be elaborating on the reoccurring sexual assault imagery and csa survivor traits tomura exhibits.

triggering themes ahead, including discussed child sexual abuse, incest (sibling and pseudo), trauma and its effects, and sexual assault imagery (from the bnha manga itself). also spoilers for the most recent manga arc.

(disclaimer: i realize symptoms of trauma are pretty much common all across the board, and depression also comes with a lot of these behaviors - but there are some that crop up more commonly in cases of sexual abuse (especially from a young age) than in others. csa survivors also frequently end up with depression, too, so that doesn't necessarily take away from it.)

i’ll start with the cover above. the hands touching him here are much more expressive than the ones he usually wears. it's also framed in a way where you can't see the ends/cap things very well, and they don't appear so symmetrical, making them feel much more like real, living hands grabbing him.

there's also the fact that his face is exposed, which is something we had rarely seen him do willingly at this point in the manga, and even when he had he was still covered up with a hoodie or completely alone. the way he's covering half his face gives off the impression that he's not okay with the way he's exposed.

all of that, plus the obvious distress tomura is in, gives this very glaring assault vibes.

also, the hands on his head are clearly someone's actual, living hands as well. my guess is afo, especially since they seem to be petting him, which is reoccurring imagery between tomura and afo.

tomura's total lack of privacy

there's a clear lack of boundaries between tomura and the adults in his life. most of the spaces that seem to belong to tomura (the bar - he feels safe enough there to take Father off, and his room) are accompanied by cameras and audio transmissions from afo. he has no privacy, and doesn't even seem bothered by this fact.

he also doesn't seem to set boundaries with other people in general. toga can hold a knife to his neck, spinner can grab him and yell in his face, the doctor can shout over his earpiece, dabi (or anyone, really) can say whatever rude or callous things he wants to him… really the only time i can think of that even comes close was when mr. compress made a joke about working with overhaul and tomura said "hey, not funny."

he seems to kinda just let whatever happen to him. earlier in the series, tomura seemed to rely on kurogiri to notice when he needed space and step in for him rather than ask for it himself. that's a pretty telltale sign of someone who's had their needs and boundaries violated (or even punished) for a long time.

Tomuras over-attachment to afo and his praise/affection

obviously afo groomed tomura whether it involved sexual abuse or not, but it is something that could have easily lended itself to that as well. early in the series, tomura clearly highly valued afos opinion of him, and seemed to strive to please and repay him for his kindness. these are feelings afo incited in him on purpose and did, canonically, take advantage of to turn tomura into a villain and pawn - who's to say he didn't use it for other purposes, too?

it's also the kind of thing survivors tend to latch onto to cope with their abuse. it can be easier to think of the event as being affection, returning a favor, and/or special treatment, than to think of it as abuse. tomura looked up to afo so much that it's possible he could have considered (or been convinced) that it was special that someone as great as afo wanted to do something so intimate with him.

also, if this is really tomura realizing his sensei isn't as special and powerful as he'd been led to believe, then his reaction being to cover up while looking angry might, well… be a reaction to feeling used.

Tomura & older men

there's not a lot of people besides afo that tomura seems very quickly, openly… invested in. there are two major ones i can think of, and they are both 1. older men, and 2. mentor figures (even if not to tomura.)

the most obvious of the two is aizawa, who tomura has seemed pretty fond of since his first appearance and, even in the most recent chapters, can't seem to help but think about how cool aizawa is. aizawa isn't a mentor to tomura, obviously, but he is a teacher and tomura knows this. (and seems impressed by the way he tries to protect the students in his care--something afo very specifically does not do for tomura.)

the second, and perhaps less obvious to most, is Stain. i wrote up a whole post trying (trying.) to explain the way tomura seemed interested in him, and you can see a bit more about that and how tomura was hoping he'd be a mentor to him here.

in other words, tomura has shown reoccurring interest in older men, who are mentors, that he does not show for anyone else.

early sexual abuse can influence a person's attractions. survivors tend to be drawn to what is familiar, even if it hurt, and so it's pretty common for them to be attracted to and/or desire a relationship with those who resemble their abuser(s).

and afo is an older man who is a mentor to tomura (and others.)

immaturity (& age regression)

tomura, in early canon, is often described by characters in-universe as being childish, especially in regards to how he processes his emotions. (i don't really like to conflate these things with "age" or "being childish" - but the way the manga itself presents these qualities is clearly intended to give tomura a immature/childish vibe.)

tomura's emotional processing, simple motivations, fixation with video games, toys littering his room, and need for close caregiving (kurogiri) all give off the impression that he's had trouble developing the way he "”should”" have--kind of like he didn't really move on at all.

this sort of stunted development tends to occur in people with childhood trauma, especially csa survivors. ptsd at its core is the brain getting "stuck" in the moment of trauma, so if the trauma occurred as a child, then one's development is somewhat halted there, especially in areas of emotional processing, because the brain and body have to dedicate so much energy to just trying to cope and survive. it's pretty common for csa survivors to have trouble coping with and controlling their emotions.

relatedly: i have no real way to confirm this right now, but i’ve heard that during the mla arc, while tomura was kind of going in and out of flashbacks, he started switching to using “boku” - a self pronoun for young boys - as opposed to his usual “ore”). ive since had to wonder if this is a reoccurring state for tomura - it might partly explain why he keeps his toys around despite never showing interest in them on-screen, and has such close supervision from kurogiri.

again, age regression can go for any kind of childhood trauma, but seems very common in child sexual abuse survivors in particular.

Lack of hygiene (esp oral)

look at how tomura's teeth are drawn compared to even another villains. dabis teeth are straight and clean, whereas tomura's have holes and chips, and tend to be drawn uneven with wobbly lines, like they're covered in plaque.

not caring for one's hygiene is common for people with depression too - but failure to care for teeth also frequently crops up in survivors of sexual abuse, due to an aversion to things touching or being inside their mouth, because it can remind them of the abuse.

in a similar vein, tomura's hair looks unwashed and greasy to me, especially when it gets long. it sort of gathers in clumps and appears heavy. survivors may avoid taking showers because they aren't comfortable removing their clothes for long periods of time, or because the abuse occurred in proximity to bathing. (which is a convenient time for parental figures to groom and abuse their children, since it already involves them being naked and the parent touching them closely.)

in general, there just seems to be something off about tomura's relationship with his body. maybe it's the way he barely bats an eye at major injuries, doesn't care for his hygiene, self-injures, and didn't mind undergoing a surgery that altered its shape and function pretty heavily--but i get the impression that tomura sees his body as just a tool more than anything.

which, if someone grew up having their body regarded as nothing but a means of pleasure, kind of makes sense.

his clothing

im not sure if this has the same “connotations” (for lack of a better word) for flat chested people, but tomura always wearing a lowcut shirt that shows off a fair amount of his chest, but covering the rest of himself head to toe--including his face--feels significant to me. as well as the way he covers up even more (his hoodie) when he’s stressed. the hands, too--being covered up seems to be calming for him.

the placement of the hands afo gave him

you can't tell me little tenko placed these hands where they are by himself. the ones on his chest aren’t even from his family or meant to resemble them - they’re additional hands afo gave him to wear. pretty weird place for “afo”’s hands to go...

I feel like theres a little bit something to tomura frequently having his clothes ripped off during fights

not that it's particularly uncommon for bnha characters to get their clothes a bit shredded during fights, but i can't help but feel like there's something to tomura getting torn down to nothing but his pants twice, with both battles heavily involving tomura's traumas, including the ones related to afo. the vs mla arc with how tomura met afo and how he turned him into what he is today, then the war arc where the methods afo used to control and abuse tomura (the hands) are brought back again--and afo repeatedly takes tomura's bodily autonomy away from him.

AFO's predatory behaviors

tomuras own behavior aside, All For One himself has some behaviors and imagery that gives off very predatory vibes. i’ll start with Ragdoll…

most people theorize that she was going to be turned into a nomu, but there are two important things here. ragdoll was found 1. alive, and 2. naked. all nomu are made from corpses - if afo had time to take her quirk and undress her, he certainly had time to kill her, especially since three days had passed since she was kidnapped. (and, what benefit would there be to making a nomu out of a quirkless hero?)

her dazed state is also curious - we've never been told taking or giving quirks has a side effect like this, and i would think itd at least wear off after three days…

there's also not actually a lot to suggest she was submerged in one of the tanks (that i know of); in the full body image, she doesn't seem to be soaking wet or anything. there's no water dripping off her. there's just a bit of liquid on her face and neck, which could merely be sweat, or… other fluids.

this next part is more debatable due to it being more dubiously canon (although My Hero: One’s Justice has been known to basically spoil villain related lore before it appears in the manga) - but he has some dialogue that makes him sound... pretty fuckin enthusiastic about sexual violence.

and time and time again, afo has been... very creepy and obsessive about his brother. who happens to look an awful lot like tomura, and is vaguely connected to nana as a user of OFA, and we know how far afo would go to spite both of them.

The "wow this is pretty much confirmed now" page

i always thought i was just projecting when i read tomura as a csa survivor - until i saw this page, which was so viscerally uncomfortable that it made me nauseous. it definitely made me decide i wasn't just reading into things that weren't there. that's not exactly to say this panel 100% confirmed it (though it certainly did in my mind, personally) -- but the imagery here can't not be deliberate.

tomura is literally shirtless and bent over before afo, and sure, afos not completely standing behind him, but that's partially because his lower half is inside of tomura. and from our previous example of afo taking over tomura's body…

i wish i could find the translation i first saw - this is the viz translation, which is notoriously horrible - but the one i read felt much more along the lines of "i saved you, so i get to do what i want with your body."

that is a line of logic that could have EASILY applied to their earlier relationship. the way afo saved tenko was very much on the forefront of tomura's mind early in the series, possibly either an idea he clung onto to justify the abuse he experienced from afo, or something afo personally reminded him of frequently.

also… part of afos body is definitely wrapped around tomura's upper thigh, and in certain panels seems to be emanating from between his legs.

speaking of, tomura's stance is also notable to me. compared to the panel where tomura first realized afo was taking control of him, where his knees are pretty straight on or outwards in a powerful balanced brace, in these panels his knees seem to be bending in towards his body, like he wants to squeeze his legs shut. huh.

i touched on this before, but it's interesting to me that what finally let afo fully take control of tomura's body, was having a hand (one afo very specifically used to control and abuse tomura into doing what he wanted) placed upon his body without permission.

so, all in all, afo is "inside" tomura's body, using it for his own means, against tomura's wishes.

what else does that sound like? no wonder deku feels like tomura needs help, despite everything...

again, this isn't to say that csa is definitely the cause of these things, just that tomura does have an abundance of behaviors and imagery that could easily be read that way.

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Tenko Shimura #boku no hero academia #all for one #afo bnha #bnha #long post #ITS FINALLY HERE #i did my best i hope it makes sense #csa tw #child abuse tw #meta #ooc

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

#leia organa #princess leia #Darth Vader #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #time travel #Phoenix Posts

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likeitloveitblogit · 3 years

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Just Hold Me

I had a dream that got stuck in my brain, so I decided to turn it into a Loki x fem!reader fanfic. Here it is. Please be gentle this is the first but of my writing I've shared.

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Summary: After a rough battle fighting with the Avengers you skip the party to recover in your room at the Avengers tower. There you're visited by a drunk Thor and a comforting Loki.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: non consensual kissing, mention of assault, pain, mention of death, they all need therapy

What to expect: Me turning a dream into a Loki fluff therapy session.

From your room in the Avengers tower you could still hear the sounds of the party. Another victory for the team meant another raging party to celebrate. You loved a good party, but you had taken a few too many hits during the mission and had chosen to head back to your room.

A knock sounded at your door, "Y/N, are you there?" You heard the gruff voice of Thor.

The god of thunder and his brother Loki had become members of the team after defeating the Dark Elves in London. There had been a drunken night when Loki confessed to you he had considered faking his own death and stealing the throne of Asgard. But Loki had chosen to help fight, winning the battle and the approval of the Avengers. Not everyone had accepted them completely, but you understand that people were capable of change and had become friends with the pair.

"Y/N?!?" Thor called again, pounding a little harder on the door.

You rise from your bed and walk to the door, opening it you find a very clearly drunk Thor. It took a great deal of drinking to get the god drunk. You chuckle thinking about how much he must have consumed, but then notice that his eyes are full of tears.

"Thor, what's wrong?"

"Can I come in?"

Normally you didn't let anyone into your room. You were a fairly open person, happy to share, but your room was your safe place to get away and recharge. Standing there, leaning slightly against your door frame Thor looked completely broken, so you open the door and gesture for him to enter. Leaving the door open you follow Thor into the room.

You weren't sure how to handle having a guest in your room. But Thor walked over and sat on your bed, like he owned the place. "I'm sorry to bother you, I just, I was at that party and everything was good. You know we had that Asgardian wine brought in, so much better than anything here on Midgard. But then I saw a woman in the crowd that looked just like her. And I thought, I don't know, I thought maybe she had only faked it, maybe she'd just been lost and now she'd come to find me. I ran over to her, but the woman was just some stranger."

From your spot learning against the wall you asked, "Who do you mean? Jane?"

"Ha, I've lost her too. I seem to lose everyone I care about. But no. I thought I saw my mother"

That broke your heart. That same drunken night when Loki had confessed thinking of faking his own death, you two had also talked about Frigga's death. Unsure how to comfort the god then you had sat with Loki, holding his hand while he cried. Loki had been so close with Frigga, a part of Loki had changed when the guard had delivered the news of her death. Being in prison unable to even attend the funeral had stirred a desire to be a better person in Loki.

Even though you had seen Loki's grief, somehow Thor had seemed stronger, less affected, but Frigga was his mother, too. The loss of a parent is a terrible thing to deal with no matter how strong of a person you might appear to be. And clearly alcohol made the Asgardians emotional wrecks, because here now was the god of thunder sitting on your bed, body racking with sobs.

You sat down next to Thor, reaching to take his hand. Instead Thor pulled you into a crushing hug. Your first instinct was to pull away from the pain, you had really taken a beating in that fight. But Thor was your friend and he was hurting inside, so you relaxed. Rubbing circles on his back, you whispered "it's ok, you're ok" while you let him cry on your shoulder. The two of you sat like that for a long while before Thor released his hold on you.

You were about to ask Thor if he was feeling better, when he looked down at you and leaned in to kiss you. A million thoughts ran through your brain all at once. Fear struck you the strongest, and you scrambled away, backing up until your back was against the headboard. "What are you doing?"

"Um, kissing you," Thor said as he crawled toward you, hovering over you he leaned to try and kiss you.

"Well, stop it" you put your arms in front of your face trying to push him away. "Stop it, stop it, stop it"

Thor's strong arms easily push your own hands out of the way. But just as Thor leaned in towards you, he was ripped from on top of you.

Frightened, you look up to see Loki shoving Thor away, placing himself between you and Thor. "The lady told you to stop. What has gotten into you brother?"

"You don't know anything stupid brother, just leave us alone" Thor lunges for Loki, but Thor is still far too intoxicated to stand a chance in a fight. Loki easily pushes back and Thor nearly crashes into the wall.

Before Thor can lunge again Loki summons a pair of daggers and points then at Thor. "Brother you're drunk. You need to calm down. I don't want to hurt you, but if you try to hurt Y/N, I'll have no choice."

"Brother you wouldn't dare."

Loki points the daggers more directly at Thor "I don't know what is happening here but you know that I will do anything to defend a lady's honor."

"Oh, so you're just such a hero now? A perfect little prince charming? You're not defending anything. You're just jealous because Y/N invited me into her room and not you."

You stand up, careful to stay behind Loki. "Thor, nothing was going to happen between us. You came to me, crying and I offered you a hand to hold because I knew you missed your mother. You hugged me and I let you because you are my friend. But that's it. You are my friend and I don't want any more than that. You should thank Loki for keeping you from doing something you'd have regretted."

"You think I'd regret kissing you?"

"No, I think you'd regret kissing someone who didn't want to be kissed. You'd regret taking advantage of someone you cared about."

"I, I thought you'd want to kiss me"

"You buffoon, not everyone wants to have their face crushed in by your giant head."

"Hush Loki," you walk toward Thor, Loki tries to pull you back behind him but you touch his arm gently, and step forward. "Thor you know I do care about you, but I don't feel that way about you. Look, I know you have had a lot to drink tonight. And you have a lot of emotions running through you. I mean you thought you saw your mother, that has to be really hard to deal with. But you made a mistake."

"I thought, I just. Uh, I'm sorry"

"I know. Right now I think it is best if you go back to your room, get some sleep, and we can talk more in the morning, once you're sober."

"But,"

"You heard her brother. She is giving you a very generous offer. If you don't accept and leave now, I will make you. And I won't be nice about it."

With a final look at you, Thor leaves your room.

Once Loki is sure that Thor is gone, he sets his daggers down and turns to you. You register that he chose to set them down rather than magic then away, but chart it away as a question for later.

Approaching you, hands raised like you are an animal he is afraid to spook Loki asks, "Y/N, are you ok?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." Which is a lie, you're anything but ok. Unsteady on your feet, you nearly collapse.

Loki reaches to catch you and leads you to sit on the bed, "oh Y/N, what did he do to you? I'll kill him if he has hurt you."

"Thank you, but I'm actually just a little worse off than I thought from that fight today. All this has just made me extra aware of how tired I am."

"I'll go get Banner or Strange, or one of the others."

"No," you reach and grab onto his arm.

He looks down at the way your hands tremble as they hold onto his arm. "But, Y/N, you are unwell."

"I'm not sick. I'm not injured, well not more than normal after a fight. I'm just tired. Honest."

"Well then I'll leave you to rest"

But you only hold more tightly, "please don't"

"Don't what?" His breath catches as he looks down into your eyes.

"Please don't leave me. I don't, I don't want to be alone right now."

"Ok, I'll stay." Loki sits next to you, shifting his arm to take your hand. You rest your head on his shoulder and look at the interlocking of your fingers with his.

"Thank you."

"Thor is a buffoon, but I don't think he meant to harm you. He's not used to anyone not wanting him. Not that what he did was ok. I'm not trying to say it was ok."

"Loki, I know. I understand that he was hurting. And I guess I'm a beacon of comfort and he mistook that for romantic attraction. Honestly I think he would have stopped once he realized what he was doing. But I'm still so glad you were there."

Despite Loki's comforting hold, and the circles he was tracing with his long thumb, your hands still shook. "Y/N is there something more bothering you?"

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. "When I saw your brother crawling towards me, I got so scared. I didn't see Thor, my friend. I saw that crazy guy from the factory today."

You could feel the moment the switch clicked and rage burned in Loki, "Wait did something happen? I don't remember a guy. Did this guy…, did he …, do something to you? I will end him."

"Oh Loki, my sweet murderous Loki. You actually already did."

"What?"

"You probably don't even remember, it was the heat of the battle. I'd gone in to clear the next room when I got knocked down and bumped my head. When I woke up, one of the baddies was dragging me by my ankle into the office, muttering about a sweet reward. How much fun he was going to have with me. He was reaching for me when you stormed in. I don't think you even saw me behind the desk, but you grabbed the guy before he could touch me. I didn't see what you did to him, but I heard it and it sounded very bloody."

"Oh gods, Y/N, I had no idea you were there in the back office. That guy looked deranged, even if we hadn't all been given orders to kill on sight I would have killed that man. If I'd known you were there I'd have made sure you were ok."

"I hid under the desk until you'd left and then I ran straight back to the jet. I felt so bad for not helping more with the fight, but…"

"Y/N, no one would ever blame you for running. That's not something anyone should have to face. Oh gods, and then my stupid brother had to come in and loom over you."

"He didn't know."

"No but that doesn't mean it wasn't terrifying, just the same."

You can't find the right words, and simply give a small nod. After a second of silence the question pops back into your brain. "Why did you leave your daggers on my nightstand? Why didn't you magic then away like you normally do?"

"Oh, uh, I was going to offer to let you borrow them. Just in case Thor tried to come back and visit."

"That's really sweet, but I've never been good with knives. I don't know if I'd even know what to do with them."

"Hmm well is there anything I can do to make you feel safer?"

There was a moment when you thought about saying, no. Telling Loki you'd be safe with his daggers, and sending him back to his room. But you couldn't do it. You could not send Loki away. Not when he felt like the only safe thing in the world. A breath of air after you'd been drowning all night. So you asked what you really wanted, not caring that it made you feel vulnerable.

"Can you hold me?"

"Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes I'm sure. I mean if you don't want to, I won't make you."

Loki gingerly wraps his arms around you, until you squeeze him half to death and he returns with a proper hug. Still holding you he says "I just didn't know if you'd want to be touched after… today and then my brother"

"You are not a brutish villain and you are not your brother. Do not take this as anything but a compliment, but right now the fact that you're not a big oversized muscle man is really comforting. And well neither men got the chance to do anything because of you."

"Y/N, I am so sorry you had to go through all of this. But I'm really happy that you find me comforting. I have done some terrible things that I deeply regret. And I've been afraid for so long that I'd never be able to find someone who felt safe around me."

"Everyone in this tower has done things that they can't take back. Things they regret. Including myself." You breathe in the scent of Loki, winter frost mixed with leather and metal, wondering when that scent had become so comforting to you. "But for right now, your arms feel like home and I don't want to ever leave."

"I will be here to hold you as long as you need."

"I'm going to take you up on that offer, because I might have a concussion, so you're going to have to watch me to make sure I don't die while I sleep."

"Humans are far too fragile."

"That we are. But that's an issue to deal with another day. Right now I just need you to hold me." You whisper as you lie yourself down, pulling Loki down with you. Carefully he wraps his arms around you pulling your little spoon body against his own big spoon body. Listening intently to your breathing as you drift asleep, Loki decides that he never wants to stop holding you.

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lovelybarnes · 3 years

Text

reckless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!sam wilson, platonic!natasha romanoff, platonic!steve rogers

warnings: mentions of injuries, descriptions of fighting, angry bucky, a horrible ending, i kind of really hate this

about: “the things i feel for her are unlike anything i’ve ever felt before.” for a sleepover!

i actually wrote another one with the same quote but i didn’t think it fit so i changed it (that one will be posted tomorrow or the day after so i can edit it)

you’re annoyingly reckless to a point where it gets dangerous.

he’s told you this a thousand times before but you don’t listen- aren’t listening at the moment.

he knows it’s ironic that he’s being reckless by not paying attention to what’s going on, too concentrated on you- even if you’ve told him countless times that you literally can’t die (to which he responds with a “you never know!” because, really do you?)- but he has a metal arm and sam, who’s been hovering around him like a vulture after noticing his lack of concentration.

before he can react to it, a slimy arm is promptly cut off by you, the blade you threw now back in your hands and stained green with the things’ blood. you scowl at it and shoot him a dirty look, “pay fucking attention!” you demand, shaking the weapon haphazardly to get the goo off. he can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth but rolls his eyes and obeys, knocking an ugly alien down and crushing its chest with his boot.

he can still hear your cocky remarks and giggles- yes, giggles, you giggle when you fight life threatening menaces- paired with the gross sounds of your knife impaling the aliens they’re fighting. it’s the only thing keeping him from practically babysitting you, a reassurance that you’re there, careless and impetuous, but alive and close.

suddenly, he can’t hear you, and he turns to what he quite possibly believes to be the most disgusting thing he’s seen in his life (and it’s been a long one, so far). you’re blue, covered in a slimy substance, and your face is so red, it’s beginning to look nearly purple with the cyan sheen over it. you screech abruptly, wiping at your face angrily and jumping at the thing that probably did that to you. he nearly feels pity for it. nearly, because, in your rage, you hadn’t even noticed the large gash along your shoulder. before he can go to you before you kill yourself, his metal arm feels like it’s being sucked, taking him with it, and he grunts. “what the fuck-” he manages, unsure of what he’s looking at, but trying to cut through the sticky arm attached to his own. you’re there in five seconds flat, still blue and still angry, which he notices makes the slicing through the appendage easier.

you seem to decide to stay with him after that, and he’s not sure if he’s offended because you don’t think he can take care of himself- which is ridiculous, since this only happened because he was taking care of you- or touched.

“god, i wish i had wanda’s powers. chaos magick works a lot faster than causing chaos,” you complain, trying to wipe away the blue sludge at the same time and wincing when it tugs at your injury. he is reminded of the shoulder wound he nearly got his arm ripped off for trying to warn you, and he stops your hand. “you’re bleeding, you should probably be a little more careful with this.” he motions to your arm, avoiding touching it.

you frown at him, “it’s fine, it’s just a little cut.” (it’s most certainly not a “little cut.”)

“y/n-”

you extend the hurt arm over him and flick your hands when you see an alien about to rip bucky’s head off, a grimace passing your face that he sees but you try to cover up anyways. “see? it hurts you, you need-”

“i just saved your life, would a hurt person be able to do that?” you cut him off, and he stares at you. noticing a green thing coming up behind you, he grabs your waist and moves you out of the way, shooting it with his gun and watching as it drops to the ground. “ow!” you protest, “you hurt my-” seeming to realize you’re about to prove him right, you shut up and roll your eyes. “you’re welcome,” bucky huffs, wiping away some of the blue stuff from your cheek.

your cheeks warm against his touch without your permission, and you turn away. bucky smirks at your reaction.

“shut up,” you grumble, extending your fingers and aiming at a group of the aliens ganging up on natasha. they freeze for the few seconds they’re under your control, and nat manages to take out two in the moment. the three left break out of the trance, turn to each other, and begin to fight. natasha makes eye contact with you in a form of thanks and starts to take the rest out. you hear a gun go off behind you and turn to see one of the things that sprayed you on the floor. bucky saved you again, great, it’s not like he’ll rub it in your face forever.

“you need to pay attention, what if i’m not here?” bucky scolds. “then never leave,” you flirt casually in response. with a few twirls of your finger, most of the aliens stop paying attention to your team and begin attacking their own teammates.

you don’t notice when one of the few unaffected beings picks up a discarded gun and shoots at you twice. bucky moves you away from a head shot, but one lands opposite to the bleeding slash on your shoulder, and the other hits your thigh.

“goddamnit, y/n, pay attention!” bucky growls, holding up your full weight when your adrenaline begins to run out and everything becomes blurry. “‘m fine,” you try to reassure, attempting to stand back on your wobbly legs. bucky doesn’t let you, shooting at as many aliens as he can with one gun. he turns to look at your state after he shoots most of them, allowing the others to take care of it while he tries to take care of you. his metal hand is touching the small device in his ear, telling the others the situation while his other arm holds you up. you might be delirious now, and your eyelids are becoming increasingly difficult to keep up. “hm, i’m not going to die, b’cky.” you tell him, noticing the increasing panic in his voice as he talks to steve. “stop saying that, how would you know if you haven’t died yet?”

his question is confusing for your foggy brain, so you decide to skip it, unknowingly making his worries worse. the blood running down your back isn’t stopping, and bucky stops for a second to lift you up completely, tucking his hand underneath your knees to carry you. at the tug at your thigh, you bite back a scream. bucky pretends not to notice; his hands are covered in a warm red. he’s trying his best to ignore it.

“don’t die,” bucky whispers again and again, making you frown, “how many times do i ‘ave to tell you i can’t die?”

“i’ll believe it when you don’t,” bucky mutters, and the blue sky turns to gray when he’s inside the quinjet. he sets you down on the medbay cot, looking lost as he calls out friday’s name. “yes, mister barnes?”

“y/n- uh-”

“do a scan on me and… and treat accordingly,” you interrupt. “scanning now,” friday obeys, and you turn to bucky. “by the time you figured it out i would have bled out.”

“that’s not funny, y/n,” bucky says seriously. you squeeze your eyes shut for a second, “calm down, i’ll be fine.” friday has enclosed you in some clear glass, red grids letting you know of your condition. “ooh, that’s bad,” you mumble, much to the dismay of your boyfriend. “what?” said boyfriend asks, and you wave him off as best you can- which means a pathetic bounce of your arm- and tell him to let friday do her thing. “we are not done here,” bucky instructs, but sits next to you and holds your hand. you can see his glossed eyes now, you wonder how you didn’t see them before.

“shouldn’t you be fighting?” you ask, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. rest, your body begs. you’ll comply later. “they’re almost done, the chaos thing you did makes their job a lot easier.”

“‘s what i do,” you say breathily before falling asleep.

you’re still in the quinjet the next time you open your eyes, which lets you know it’s only been a few hours and you’re feeling better already. goddess healing, you think, looking around to see bucky’s hand still around yours. he looks worried, the hard lines usually softened by the sound of your voice as hard as you’ve ever seen them. you squeeze his fingers gently. “bucky,” you coo, “i’m not dying anymore.”

bucky turns to you immediately, squinting, “that’s not funny.” it’s like deja vu, but you’re not sure from where.

a vein on bucky’s neck throbs, and you’re aware that you’re pushing it, so you stop for a second, “i was just kidding, i-”

“no!-” bucky’s voice is near yelling, so he shuts his eyes for a moment, continuing in a lower voice, “you almost died, do you know how terrifying that is? you nearly bled out in my arms.” sam, nat and steve, who were waiting for you to wake up next to bucky, pause when he raises his voice. “bucky-” you start, softer now, trying to sit up. bucky stands, “listen to me!”

steve stands, beginning to put a hand on bucky’s shoulder, “buck-” he’s silenced with a cold look from bucky. sam gets to his feet too, telling steve and nat to give you both a minute. they do, after nat kisses your cheek like she always does when you get hurt. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed now, reaching for bucky, “bucky?”

“you don’t… you don’t know how much you scared me, y/n. you have to stop being so careless,” he says after a few seconds. you furrow your brows, “i’m not careless, i’m confident in my skills.”

“you are. you’re careless and reckless and hasty and i need you to not be,” he says harshly, you frown. “why? i’m fine and i’m always going to be-”

“you don’t- you don’t understand!-” bucky snaps. “then help me understand,” you implore. bucky closes his eyes tightly again, breathing in slowly. “the things... that i feel for you are unlike anything i have ever felt before, and i can’t- i can’t lose you, okay?”

“you’re not going to,” you assure, extending your arms towards him, noting the tiny ache in response. he walks over to you, letting you grab his jaw when he’s close, you run your fingers over his cheeks gently. “i’ll be more careful,” you promise. bucky nods, tucking his face into the dip of your neck. you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, letting him squeeze your waist almost to reassure himself you’re actually there.

“hey,” you say quietly after a few moments, pressing tender kisses to bucky’s cheek, “sit down, i want to do something.” you stand, grabbing onto bucky’s arm when you stumble a little and promise him you’re fine and are taking it easy. you take out the first aid kit from one of the cabinets, setting it down next to bucky, opening it and taking out everything you need. you begin to clean his cuts, putting a pink hello kitty bandaid over one of his particularly bad ones. it’ll be gone within a day, but you can’t resist, and it makes him laugh.

you hum while you dab at a small scratch next to his eye, and he chuckles lowly, you look up at him, “what?”

“you’re still a little blue.”

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.”

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you.

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked.

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite.

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.”

“What are you a fortune cookie?”

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.”

2 DAYS LATER

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.”

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.”

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.”

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.”

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you.

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two.

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once.

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally.

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19.

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him. And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest.

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.”

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.”

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh.

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.”

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door. And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

#dc x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dc #nightwing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd x reader #Jason todd imagine

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition.

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #anti albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion

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