Hey Everybody! Uhhhhh (I Seriously Don't Know What To Write).

Hey everybody! Uhhhhh (I seriously don't know what to write).

Anyways, here is a list of fandoms that I can write imagines/blurbs/headcannons for:

- MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

- OBX (Outer Banks)

- Stranger Things

- X - Men

- The Gifted

- One Chicago

I'll continue to add to this list as more pop in my head and I will add a master list as I write and you guys start requesting. Prompt list soon to follow!

I can't wait to write for you guys! Until next time...

Part 1 - The Deal

Masterlist

Summary: The Child wasn’t the first time Mando broke a contract to save someone. You were the first, presumed dead thanks to help after he was supposed to capture you. Now, you work under a false name with Mando to pay off your dues. However, as time drags on and he breaks another Guild contract, buried feelings between you two bubble to the surface. 

Warnings: Violence, sarcasm, some pretty spicy angst

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter alludes to different types of abuse. Viewer discretion is advised. 

Against the harsh winds of Hoth, your wisps of breath seemed like a whisper. Pulling your hood further over your head in attempt to block out the cold, you trudge on through the many feet of snow before you. On the run, a bandit, an escapee, a one way gate to a mighty sum. That’s all you were to anyone anymore. But who were you before that?

You were nothing.

During the Siege of Mandalore, you were separated from your parents, and quickly snatched away.

Dropped on the doorstep of a ring fighter, your life was nothing but pain and struggle. From the moment you could walk, you were trained with blasters, snipers, sabers, any weapon imaginable. You learned within days that losing was not an option. Not unless you wanted another slew of scars to appear upon your back. Not unless you wanted to be locked into the room with the opposing handler you had lost too. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You broke out from it all, trying to kill your handler in the process. Unfortunately, you had to choose between your freedom and killing the bastard that took it in the first place. For years, you kept bounty hunters off your trail, habiting the most desolate of planets. With each day passing by, the sum would get higher, the more hunters sniffing you out. 

That’s what lead you here, on the frozen, desolate rock known as Hoth. Bundled in Gherlian fur lined coat and pants, you found refuge in a small cave that blocked you from the bitter snap of the wind. Exhaling once more, you watched as the frozen air quickly disappear. Why couldn’t it take you with it? 

You pull out what’s left of your rations and water from your pouch in an effort to find your fire starter. Except it wasn’t there. 

“Haar’chak!” you exclaim in Mando’a, your mother tongue.

A subtle crunch in the snow reverberates into your ear, making you want to freeze. You resist the urge, to hesitate was weak. Instead, you feign innocence in trying to find the stolen starter. Really, you were slipping out your dull blade, ready for the attack. 

“I haven’t heard that language in a long time” a modulated voice says from behind you, holding a very warm blaster to your head. 

Without a stutter, you spin on your ankle and stand, smacking the blaster away. Still holding the blade, you press it right under the masked menaces helmet, where the only skin you could see that was exposed. His hand quickly grabs the dagger, twisting your wrist to turn you around.

But you were smarter. As he spins you, you send your ankle back, hitting him right where the sun don’t shine. A loud groan translates through the helmet with static, but he doesn’t back down. Wrapping his arm around your neck, he holds you close to his body, grabbing a knife of his own. 

“Give up,” his static filled voice says.

“Hmm, no,” you whisper despite the lack of air, sending your head into his face and escaping his grip. 

As he recollects himself, you kick the fallen blaster in front of yourself, bending down, seizing it, and aiming it directly for his helmet. But your steady hand becomes shaken as you get the full view of your attempted captor.

“You’re a Mandalorian,” you say.

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” he spits, sarcasm laced in his tone.

Knowing that the helmet is made of Beskar, you drop the now useless blaster and sigh. 

“I thought a man of your honor would leave me alone,”

“I’m a part of the Guild. I don’t ask questions.” 

“Maybe you should,” you reply, an intense glare in his direction sent from your eyes. 

“Look, lady, I’m just here for the money. I don’t care about your life story,” the Mandalorian says as he pulls a pair of cuffs from his belt.

With a sigh, you hold your wrists out like reflex, ready to be trapped once again.

“How much do they want for me now?” you ask as he clasps the metal tightly around your wrists. 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“Don’t you think a girl wants to know her worth?”

“You’re mouthy,”

“You’re clueless,” 

The Mandalorian releases a harsh sigh before pushing you out from the crevice that had protected you both from Hoth’s winds. Within a matter of minutes, you were on the ship and being shoved towards the carbonite freezer. You remember the tool all too well, being familiar with it’s affects. Without any control, you feel the cold touch of fear trace the scars along your spine, making you shiver. The masked menace looks towards you in question. You keep your line of sight forward, swallowing the bile that had piled in your throat from nerves with force.

Unexpectedly, he turns you towards some spare seats and sits you down into one. He straps you in, avoiding eye contact through his visor at all costs. 

“While you’re taking me to that bastard,” you mumble. “do me a favor? Look up (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He still avoids eye contact, pulling a way and climbing up the ladder nearby to what you assumed was the cockpit. You feel the ship roar to life and all you can do is lean your head against the metal wall. It was going to be a short ride through hyperspace, so you let your eyes flutter close, gaining any sleep you could for the torture ahead. 

You’re awoken by the rustling of the Mandalorian grabbing weapons from a closet close to you. The ship’s loud thrusters had drawn quiet and the knawing pain at the pit of your gut told you to run. But you know you were stuck, captured, doomed.

The Mandalorian tugs you from the seat with a rough hand and shoves you out of the ship, stepping onto the planet’s surface you swore to never step on again. He directs you through the crowd of hunters and beggars alike, heading towards the building you knew was coming.

As you approached it, he raps on the door the secret code you had memorized from years ago. The door is opened within seconds and you both are ushered inside, uncontrollable tears filling your eyes as you stare down to hall to your owner.

“I told you...I own you, bitch,” his voice scratched, scarring your ears just like the real ones adorning your body. 

“Slanar at haran,” you whisper like poison dripping from your lips. 

‘Go to hell,’ the Mandalorian stationed by your side translated to himself.

“You’ll pay for that...” he seethes, a disgusting smile breaking the many wrinkles on his face. “Why don’t you show your Mandalorian friend a good time, as a bonus to your return home?” 

You want to vomit right there, a violent shiver over taking your body at the thought. But then the Mandalorian surprises you. 

“I don’t want your payment, Arro,” he says calmly, without a quiver in his voice. 

“Are you sure? She is quite talented, Mando,” Arro replies with the same disgusting smile. 

As Arro speaks, you feel Mando’s hand slip across to your hands bound behind you and unlock them. Adrenaline fills your veins in response. 

“I want her,” he replies coldly. 

The cool metal of a spare blaster embraces your hand. It makes it nearly impossible to suppress the grin bursting through onto your face, imagining Arro’s slumped body on his seedy throne. 

“Well you have her, Mando,” Arro replies, his grin becoming disgustingly excitable as he stands. 

“Not like that, demagolka,” he says, quickly aiming his blaster at him. 

‘Damn,’ you thought, following his lead and aiming your blaster. “he really just called him a real life monster.’ 

The soldiers surrounding you both quickly aimed their own blasters at you. With a small chuckle, you quickly turn in unison with the Mandalorian, taking out the soldiers with the ease of a trigger beneath your finger. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Arro trying to escape from your wrath against him. You quickly aim, but couldn’t find the motivation to pull the trigger while pointed at his head. No...that monster didn’t deserve something as sweet as death. Instead, you aimed lower, quickly shooting both of his knees out from under him. You swore you heard Mando whisper something, but all you could see was red. 

Walking over to the whimpering man, you kicked him in the ribs hard enough to hear some cracking beneath your force. Kneeling in front of his face, you turn your head and force him to look at you.

“Come for me...and my name will be engraved across your face,” you whisper menacingly. 

Standing back up, you kick him hard enough to send him into a state of unconsciousness. Turning back to the Mandalorian, you noticed he hadn’t moved one inch. 

“Vor entye,” you express your thanks, expecting him to leave after you admission.

“C’mon, we should get to the ship before more of his Imps come back,” 

Without another word, he walks out the door with you following close behind, a confused look scrunching up your face.

Once you returned, the Mandalorian wordlessly closed the doors to the ship behind you. He walks over to another hidden closet, tossing you a new blaster and a newly crafted blade.

“I could use a new partner,” he says without turning towards you.

“I’m gonna need a new name then, Mando,” you reply, looking at the blaster and tucking it into your worn holster.

“Dar’manda,” he states matter of factly, his visor finally pointed towards you. “But I’m still calling you (Y/N).” 

The name fit perfectly for you. In Mando’a it meant a state of not being a Mandalorian, not by choice or by being an outsider. Rather, it was to describe one who lost their heritage. 

“Yes, sir,” you say out of reflex, something deeply engrained into you thanks to Arro. 

“It’s just Mando.”

You simply nod, sheathing your new blade. Mando quickly makes his way over to the ladder braced against one of the walls. Before he fully climbs up, he turns back to you.

“You coming?”

With a soft smirk, you nod, following him into the cockpit. 

Tag List: (leave a comment to be added)

eatleef  auds24  tillytheslytherin  kasianthus  jsuiyun20  leilei-draws and-i-swear-we-are-infinte  haleypearce  mollywertenbe14   tortles  toribentleyva  allisondavis236 rogueheretic555  xionroxas  r-rose08 caswinchester2000  givemetundies  artemisfowl11  imaginecrushes irishfaulk97 mylifequotesshows dionysuskid21  convoluted-creature  grey-water-colors stitchattacks  urbankaite2  weebnumber3622   shestillwrites1  f4llingfairy magicrowiswritingstuff  eddyforthewin   galaxypox  captn-andor imtrebleandsharp  nerdalert-andi  suffocateitfromitsface  lovelylostminds   a-djarin  dawnwriterimagines  kishie8

Partners In Crime - Masterlist

Summary: The Child wasn’t the first time Mando broke a contract to save someone. You were the first, presumed dead thanks to his help after he was supposed to capture you. Now, you work under a false name with Mando to pay off your dues. However, as time drags on and he breaks another Guild contract, buried feelings between you two bubble to the surface. 

Warnings: violence, mentions of abuse, traumatic past, lots of angst, slow burn

A/N: The parts will follow chronological order but won’t be exact replicas of the episodes used (it’s a real pain). Also there will be inconsistencies as I am still new to the fandom, I only started getting into Star Wars like 2 months before Rise of Skywalker came out. So please be gentle!!!

Prelude: 

Part 1 - The Deal

Season 1 and 2: 

Part 2 - Two Makes Three

Part 3 - Never Lose Me

Part 4 - Beskar and Broken Hearts

Part 5 - Heavy Weighs the Helmet

Part 6 - Loss and Gain

Part 7 - Brown Eyes

Part 8 - Beauty Guarded By Armour

Part 9 - Too Hard To Say Goodbye

Epilogue:

Part 10 - Partners In Crime

Tag List: (leave a comment to be added)

eatleef  auds24  tillytheslytherin  kasianthus  jsuiyun20  leilei-draws and-i-swear-we-are-infinte  haleypearce  mollywertenbe14   tortles  toribentleyva  allisondavis236 rogueheretic555  xionroxas  r-rose08 caswinchester2000  givemetundies  artemisfowl11  imaginecrushes irishfaulk97 mylifequotesshows dionysuskid21  convoluted-creature  grey-water-colors stitchattacks  urbankaite2  weebnumber3622   shestillwrites1  f4llingfairy  magicrowiswritingstuff  eddyforthewin   galaxypox  captn-andor  imtrebleandsharp  nerdalert-andi  suffocateitfromitsface  lovelylostminds  a-djarin  dawnwriterimagines  kishie8  jennifercjune

How You and Din Meet (obiwandaughter!reader)

A/N - Alright this is my first attempt at a headcanon because I’ve had a hard week and I’m exhausted. Hope all you lovelies enjoy!

Masterlist

How You and Din Met:

You had grown up knowing that being the product of a Mandalorian and a Jedi in an Imperial run galaxy meant your life was always at risk.

To keep yourself safe, you kept your lineage private. Anyone who saw you use the Force never lived to tell the tale. 

After your father’s death at the hands of Darth Vader, and your mother’s death shortly after from a broken heart, you joined the Guild.

Living your life as a bounty hunter kept you busy, but of course you got lonely. You longed for a partner, it was the Jedi in your veins. 

That’s when you met him, the Mandalorian, also known as Din Djarin.

But of course, you didn’t know his name until later on.

Greef Karga gave the Mandalorian a mission that needed two people, not even a Mandalorian could take down the asset. 

Lucky you, Karga had just given you your pay from your last bounty and were just leaving as he calls you over to the table. 

Right from the start, both of you were against working together

Don’t get it wrong, the mystery around the Mandalorian drew you to him, but you had learned to not trust people, especially with your gifts

However, when the credits were discussed, you reluctantly joined the warrior.

After a long ass trip of nothing but silence, it was when you swore in Mando’a accidentally cutting yourself on a piece of metal on the ladder, that the mighty Mando spoke up.

“I haven’t heard that language in forever,”

“What, Mando’a?”

“Yes, where did you learn it?” 

“My mother, she taught me,”

“Why didn’t you take the Creed then?”

“How about we just get this mission done and never have to speak of this again, hmm?”

You had landed on a desolate planet, as to be expected. What you didn’t expect was the whole freaking week you would have to spend with Mando trying to track down the bounty. 

Throughout your time together, you had gotten close. 

He felt like he could trust you since you spoke his language, you knew his code. It was an odd feeling, one he hadn’t felt in years. 

You felt like you could trust him, he understood the secrecy of being part of the Mandalorians. 

Your new found trust would be tested once you found your bounty however. 

Greef had failed to mention that the damn bounty knew how to use the Force, which was why two people needed to be on this mission. 

Or a Jedi.

The bounty was powerful and despite your best efforts, you knew it was either you and the Mandalorian’s death, or you use your powers. 

Your choice was made when the target used the Force to hurl one of his blades straight for Mando, in a place his armor wasn’t protecting.

It was like an instinct, what you did. Holding out your hand, letting the Force run through you, pausing the blade in mid air. 

You didn’t need to see the Mandalorian’s face to know that his eyes were wide in that moment. 

On reflex, you sent the blade hurtling back towards the bounty at an unimaginable rate, killing him instantly. 

“How the-”

“This is usually when I kill you for seeing that...”

He stays silent, his hand reaching to his blaster.

“I won’t, I trust you to keep my secret,”

His hand drops from the blaster, his body visibly deflating. 

“Din,” 

“Hmm?”

“My name is Din Djarin,”

Your eyes widen a bit, the trust he must have had in you to keep his secret was astronomical, much like you had in him keeping yours. 

“I’m (Y/N) Kenobi,”

With a curt nod, you both work on dragging the body back to the Razor Crest to bring back to the hire.

As you loaded the corpse into his carbon freezer, you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“You know, Kenobi, I could use a partner on this ship. Make more money on bounties and split it,”

You milled over the thought for a while. The idea of no longer being alone, having a partner work with you, it was enticing.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re trying to make sure I won’t come and kill you?”

A soft chuckle is translated through his conductor. 

“I’d like to see you try,”

“Well, I’d be glad to join you, Din,” 

A firm hand shake sealed the deal between you two. 

You had gotten your wish to never work alone. 

Little did you know, you and Din would eventually make it way past a work relationship. 

Tag List: (leave a comment on the masterlist to be added to this series)

toribentleyva  mikariell95 edgy-wedgy-poo  tillytheslytherin  irishfaulk97 supergingerlocks  aeryn--sun  nedxwynert  forbidden-darkness

What Could Have Been (Part 9)

Words: 1353 Warnings: Canonical violence, probably a poorly written response about hazmat shit A/N: I’m sorry for taking so long guys! I’m starting a new job and shit’s chaotic right now :( 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Keep reading

Best Shot - Prologue

Summary: After Jay Halstead left the Rangers and joined Chicago PD, he met you, the famed (Y/N). You’re the only one who has a better shot then Halstead, something that sparked a small competition. Competition lead to post work hangouts and eventually, being assigned as partners by Voight soon after for your work ethic. Your friendship evolved into roommates and hockey buddies. The so called best friend you had found in the Halstead quickly changed, just in time to watch him sweep Erin Lindsay off her feet. Heartbroken, you buried your feelings deep inside you. 

Now with Erin out of the picture,and your healing best friend in close quarters, can your best shot make it to a happily ever after?

Warnings: Mild to severe blood and gore, language, some suggestive scenes but no smut

Pairings: Jay Halstead x fem!Reader, small Connor Rhodes x fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 (finale)

-~-

“Oh come on! I can shoot better then that!, Halstead!”

“Prove it then, (Y/L/N)! Close your eyes and only shoot when I tell you too.” 

With a smirk on your face, you reload your gun and aim it at the ground. As you look at your best friend, a mischevious grin is pointed towards you, only feeding the flame. You stick your tongue out before looking at the new target being loaded, feeling your eyes flutter close. 

Breathe in.

Your finger slowly slips into it’s place in front of the trigger, adding just the tiniest amount fo pressure. 

“Now!” 

Opening your eyes and lifting your arms at the same time, you exhale, aim, and fire. As you lower your gun, you’re met with the results you had expected. A direct hit to the head of the target. Turning to Jay, you grin and lay the gun down.

“Better luck next time,” you say, mimicking his michevious grin he once had. 

Before he can fire back, both of your phones go off at the same time. Pulling yours out, you find that Voight had assigned you to a case that was taking place at Med. 

“Duty calls,” Jay says to you.