#I know this because I AM an I Can Fix Him person! And I'd be the one to find Fixing Him content if it existed!

[best-seungkwality]

breakfast for two (romantically!)

pairing: guitarist!band member!ellie williams x brother of band member! soft personality!female!reader

summary: ellie knew there were lines she wasn’t supposed to cross. but the way you blushed when she called you ‘babygirl’ made her want to toe every single one.

contains/warnings: college!au, you have a brother named harold, subtle but unspecific mention of trauma, suggestive towards the end

word count: 2.3k

author's yap notes: sue me i loved the k-drama kingdom bye. and yes here i am again with ellie williams IDK guys she's just hot and inspires me to write i just Have to take advantage of this. i'd write about my kpop boys but ,, i'm very wlw-coded the bisexual in me is not bisexualing.

would like to give credits for the dividers i think they're gna be permanent lmao: © saradika, magnusthemes here in tumblr!

'god, i'm such a kid,' ellie thought to herself as she fixed the crinkle in her flannel shirt. as usual, she felt a bit conscious of her appearance whenever she went to the house of her bandmate to practice for their upcoming gigs.

with one heavy breath, she brought her hands up and knocked gently on the door. it was really unlike her– she could care less about stupid harold's door, but she didn't.

once it opened to reveal his younger sister, all thoughts were wiped clean from her mind. suddenly, you were all she could think about, from how cute you looked in your pajamas, to how those fuzzy house slippers fit your soft and caring personality.

"hi, ellie," you greeted sweetly, and god, could she just melt right then and there. she wouldn't mind going to harold's every weekend if she could always have this kind of welcome.

"hey, doll," she greeted back, ruffling your already bad bedhair, earning a whine from you. "harry there?"

you nodded and let her in, immediately going in for a hug. if it were anyone else, she would've punched the living lights out of them for invading her personal space, but this was you. you could cozy up to her as much as you (and she) wanted.

"you should go down now, he'll be there in a bit, just changing clothes."

she put an arm around your shoulders and leaned her head onto yours. "i can spare a few minutes for my favorite girl."

"and if you don't take your arms off her, i'll spare a few minutes to body slam you on the ground."

ellie raised her hands and chuckled at your overprotective brother, who was rushing down and suddenly pushing her to the direction of the basement and away from you.

"call you later, princess!" ellie hollered playfully, getting a 'sure thing, baby!' in return, much to your brother's annoyance.

harry started with his usual monologue whenever he caught her flirting with you, be it in their home or school. he always went on about how you were his most precious baby sister who deserved everything nice the world could offer, and that you were off-limits until you graduated because your family only wanted the best for your future. he even said his parents could throw him in a ditch somewhere if it meant you achieved your dreams.

ellie raised an eyebrow at him, feeling that she was never going to completely get used to this kind of brotherly side of harold. she inched away from him and went to her spot, saying, "chill out, dude. one more sentence, and i'm gonna think you have a sis complex or something.."

harry's jaw dropped in disbelief. "how dare you, ellie," he whined, throwing an empty can of soda at her, to which she just laughed. he scoffed then turned serious, "you all know how she got to where she is now, right? i just wanna make sure..."

"yeah, totally, i get you, har," she cut him off, not wanting to make him explain any more. she knows it was hard to talk about the traumatic event his sister went through and his family had to overcome together.

"ellie's just being ellie, but you know we all care about y/n. don't worry, har," emma quipped from the corner as she was fine tuning her own instrument.

"yeah relax," she told him, "i'm just happy to be around her. i like the influence she has on me. i'd take care of her the way i want to, but i won't cross the line without your go signal, harry." she showed him a thumbs up, which he returned.

harold smiled and thanked his bandmates, and ellie couldn't help but feel warm. she had a found another family in them, and she was beyond grateful. not many people her age have the bonds that their little band shared with one another. she was thankful that some people actually accepted her for who she was and treated her the same way they would treat their own close family members. joel was the only one she had at first, but because of them, her world expanded and became even better.

with that, she decided to let the matter go first and stop giving their poor leader a headache. her feelings for his most precious sister could be dealt with some other time, preferrable when everyone's less stressed about it.

"ellie?" you answered the door in surprise, looking at your friend with curious eyes. "what are you doing here?"

ellie cocked her head to the side in confusion. "practice, doll. what do you mean?"

you stepped aside and opened the door, letting her in that morning. she ruffled your hair as always and went in, plopping down on one of the chairs in the living room comfortably. it was her second home after all-- no one would contest that.

"i know, but didn't you get harry's text?" ellie's eyebrows furrowed, bringing her cellphone out to check. "he said practice would start later evening. he and lance had to rush to uni for a report," you told her, sitting on the other couch near her seat.

ellie scrolled through her messages and didn't see a notification, which was odd because harry never missed messaging reminders, especially if they were about their schedules. he respected their time way too much to do that. it must've been a mistake-- that, or he was messing with her, waking her up that early for no reason.

she mumbled a few profanities, swearing to get back at him, before putting her phone aside and slouching on the chair. "well, i guess i'll spend the day here. got nothin' else to do anyway," she said, folding her arms behind her head, hoping your eyes would at least linger a bit on her body. and they do.

she smirked a little when you abruptly looked away and turned the television on, showing Kingdom on the streaming app. "mi casa su casa, els."

els. she was only ever gonna like that nickname if you say it.

"have you eaten, babygirl?" she stood up, scrutinizing your face for any indication that you were affected by the pet name. she did a little fist pump in her mind when she saw the blush on your cheeks deepen in a redder shade. "can i cook for us?"

you cleared your throat and waved your hand, pretending to be nonchalant. "our kitchen is your kitchen. and you know what i like already, so pleasee," you spoke, lying down on the couch without looking at her.

ellie smiled dipped down, coming face to face with you and your adorable blush. "me, right?"

she laughed when you pushed her face away, complaining that the two of you were too close and she should go ahead and cook because she was starving. ellie affirmed and let her know their food would be ready in several minutes, obliging her princess who doesn't know she's her princess yet.

she got in the kitchen, cleaned her hand and the cooking wares she was going to use, and decided to just go for a typical omelette with bacon and sausages. kid ellie would always say that she would be caught dead first before ever cooking for a man, and she made sense because the only person she would cook for was her girlfriend who wasn't her girlfriend yet.

when the meal was almost done, she peeked inside and saw that you already set up your dining table for the two of you, meaning there really was no one around.

"y/n, babe, food's done," ellie called, and you were there to assist her in no time, preparing all the food in their respective plates. you two brought it over the table, and immediately chowed down on the food as if you weren't being fed by your parents and brother.

ellie looked at you fondly as you chewed on your food carefully, wanting to avoid any incident that might humiliate you somehow. she was just glad you were eating comfortably compared to back then when it was harder. she would cook and cook for eternity if it meant you would have the smile you had on yours face right now forever as well.

"love your cooking," you said in-between bites, scarfing down your food.

"careful. harry or your mom might hear and cry," she joked before eating her food herself.

you chuckled and placed your utensils down once you finished everything. it surprised ellie a bit, but it made her happy more than anything else. she was just waiting for you to wife her up.

"el," you called, looking down at your lap.

she stopped eating for a while, and took your hand, worried at the sudden change of mood. you seemed anxious, playing with your fingers like that again. ellie ran her thumb over your knuckles, asking, "what's wrong?"

you pursed your lips before shaking your head. "nothing. maybe we can talk about it later."

"sure, let me just finish this quick."

"no, take your time," you insisted, giving her a small smile which tugged at her heartstrings, as cheesy as that sounded. "meet me in my room when you're done, okay? don't rush, and just leave the plates there. i'll clean them up later."

ellie nodded in agreement and watched you go up to the second floor and disappear into your bedroom before going back to eating. it made her anxious too, wondering if harold told you anything about yesterday and asked you to stay away from her. that was why even if you told her not to rush her breakfast, she still did, being unable to take the suspense.

she left the dining room and quickly raced up the stairs, turning to the right at the top to go to your familiar bedroom. she knocked twice then went in, and saw you sitting by your bed and looking out the open window.

ellie's eyebrow's bunched up in worry, taking the seat next to you and holding your hand gently to let you know she was there no matter what. you turned to look at her and sent her a small 'hi.'

"hi, doll, what's wrong?" she asked, cutting to the main point.

you smiled a little. "it's nothing. i've just been deep in thought."

the girl frowned and brought your head onto her shoulder. "it's not nothing if it's making you think that deeply. c'mon, you can tell me. is anything hurting?" she asked, running her fingers through your hair.

"i- i'm scared of asking you," you admitted, looking down to avoid her gaze.

she decided not to force eye contact yet. "about what? i promise i'll respond gently. when have i not been gentle with you, doll?"

thankfully, you were the one to look up at her first, and she gave you a reassuring smile. "c'mon, n/n. it's just me, no need to be scared."

panic settled in once she had seen the tears pooling in your eyes. she asked what was wrong again frantically, bringing your face into the crook of her neck to allow you to cry to her. you let out a few sobs until you started fully crying, and then you managed to calm down. ellie was not good at comforting, so she was kind of relieved you were the type who didn't need many words to feel someone was there trying to make you feel better.

"c'mon, babe, what's wrong?" ellie coaxed, wiping the tears off your face.

"that's what's wrong.." you murmured, looking down.

her mouth hung slightly open, truthfully not understanding what you meant. you sighed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it close to you.

"you call me 'babe' or 'babygirl' and i give stupid romantic meanings to them and i just... what if you'll actually never see me as someone's and your little sister? i'm gonna be stuck with these feelings on my own, and i won't get over you, and i don't even know..." you said quickly, as if this was the only time you had let these thoughts out into the world.

ellie, on the other hand, couldn't be any more overjoyed than she was at the moment, but she had to keep her calm first because you were emotional, and she didn't want to overwhelm you much more than you already were.

instead, she grabbed one of your hands, and her other went to cup your face gently so that you two could look at each other deeply. she let out a little chuckle before speaking, "i have never looked at you as just a little sister. if you just knew how head over heels i was for you the moment harry introduced us," she said with a large grin. "i've got to be insane if i don't see you as a woman i wanna be with."

your lower lips trembled. "really?"

ellie laughed and stood up, gathering you in her hold and spinning you around, garnering laughter from you as well.

"yes, really! you're the only i would ever let in my personal space, clueless girl!"

the girl fell on your bed with you on top of her, and she smiled lovingly up at you, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "i've always wanted to do that."

to her surprise, you brought your lips together, kissing each other to make up for the years that the two of you could only hug and smile at each other. ellie sat up and flipped the two of you so that you would be underneath her, caged in her arms. she let go of your lips and went down to your neck, trailing downwards.

the two of you could feel your breaths become deeper, with your eyes darkening with need.

"you hungry?" you asked with a small voice.

ellie smirked. "famished."

oh well, harry's blessing was mattered less now that you made the first move.

[wordsmithic]

Thank you @just-1-scorpio for taking one for the team and reviewing one of the Greek myth retellings out there that make us Greeks cringe! Great comments! I am a nitpicker myself (because imo, no cultural elements are "too small" to comment on) If I may, I'd like to add a few things because oooooh boy, do I have some comments! 😂

For "pater", my opinion as a writer is that she could've just called him "father". "Pater" is not a terminology or a special word that only the Greek language has. (Unlike "chiton" which refers to a specific type of garment) On top of that, nobody calls their father "pater", it's too archaic and cringe. They may only call their parents "pateras" and "mitera" when they speak about them to other people. So for me, this is a negative.

In Greece, Botsaris is a surname, not a name. Unless they state it's his surname and that this is what they use to call him. Sometimes we use a person's surname instead of their name if it's what distinguishes them in the public eye.

The story takes place in a futuristic Greece and yet, I can bet my right arm that it has no actual Greek culture in it. (Besides, perhaps, one poor mention of feta or baklava) I don't understand why bother with a foreign culture and location when every place and interaction reads they are in New York 2.0 . Are there any historical dates that they commemorate? Any customs that they do? etc I don't think so, but let me know if you stumble upon them!

Ok, so one of the old gods came back to save the nation. But this leaves many practical questions that Alessa Thorn hasn't considered because she consider us Greeks like a fantasy race that lives only in legends and fairytales. First of all, how and why did ALL Greeks switch their religion AGAIN after 2.000 years? Was our ethnoreligion, Christianity, not good enough anymore because....? Because one old god appeared and that was it? 2.000 years of tradition and theology ditched? Or are we not a real people, so practical things about our ethnic religion are not worth thinking about...?

"Also we also learn that in this Minos's surname is Karros. I don't know why he was given a surname." Why would it be weird for him to be given a surname? Looks perfectly fine to me. Is there a detail I don't know? Also, perhaps Karros is a Greek surname but I've never heard of it or could find it on Google. It's just an ancient word meaning "heavy sleep, drowsiness".

Now I'm curious, what is this language only Ariadne and her sister knew?

A group calling themselves the Pithos AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA wtff .... So, the group is called Pithos, but the writer uses and English word for "Spindle"? Why not "Atraktos"?? Man, that's a bad inconsistency.

"Sing, of when Greece's economy collapsed and the land was on fire with the turmoil man's governance had brought" is a VERY CLUNKY sentence. Let me try and fix it: "Sing of our nation's financial ruin and scorched land caused by man's wretched rule".

"Greece's economy collapsed and the land was on fire" I'm kinda taking the piss here but, baby, this is an average year for Greece. That alone is not going to destroy our country 😂😂😂 Also that's not enough to destroy a country in general. There are many financial mechanisms to save our banks and the economy in the long run, and we have been already in a loooong recovery plan (which Schäuble applied in the most shitty and incorrect way but whatever). So I really cannot suspend my disbelief here 😂 I promise I can suspend my disbelief when needed, but this just was too funny for me so it's a personal comment only!

It's also not clear to me if by "the ancient city of Corinth" Corinth as it exists today, oooor the archaeological site. Perhaps she means the Corinth that exists today because technically Corinth never stopped existing, and it is a place people have been living since antiquity. It's still the same place but you obviously cannot continue building in the same space for a hundred generations due to a variety of reasons (social, warfare, climate reasons etc).

I don't know why the book presents the old Corinth (let's say as of 2024) as a "major city" before its collapse but currently, Corinth is, what the USAmericans call "a town". Not negligible, but not one of the strongest ones. I know that the writer doesn't give a specific date for Corinth's greatness, however, I comment on it since I feel she only made it a "major city" because it was considered to be this 2.500 years ago and our antiquity is the only historical era she's heard of. Whatever, a little bit nitpicky... But it tells me she probably didn't look the modern version of Corinth up.

Medusa makes some sense being next to Hades because the Gorgons were considered Chthonic creatures.

"Serpentine Industries" would sound so stupid in Greek 😂😂 Also the name brought to my mind the "serpantina"/"serpentina" which we also use to describe defecation because of how shit comes out sometimes 😂 ("τον πήγε σερμπαντίνα")

"Hellas district".... baby your country is already called Hellas! 😂 Perhaps there is a road or square (not a district, that's weird) SOMEWHERE in Greece called "Greece" but I haven't seen it. We only have one area "Ellinikon" which means "Greek (business center)" but that makes sense. Districts with national names would only make sense if there were different ethnicities in the city. Aka, the Greek district, the Jewish district, the Slavic district, like we used to have in many towns around Greece during the era of Ottoman conquest.

What's worse, THOUSANDS of people have read this EKTROMA (abomination), and its rating is 4.07 stars....

I was a bit happy to see a published book consider the existence of Greece as a country but then Alessa Thorn turned this into a shitshow 😭😭😭😭😭

"Diogenes" is not too bad a name for that street but you are right, they could've found a much more fitting name! Sometimes we call the commerce streets Ermou (Hermes').

@just-1-scorpio I would be very interested if we could discuss/diss the next chapters together and do a joined review! If you are interested, send me a personal message 💜💜💜

Reading Asterion by Alessa Thron, so you don't have to. Prologue, and chapter one.

So let's start with the positives.

-I liked how the prologue had "Sing O' Muse" in it.

-The world building has some nice ideas, but I have a lot of questions.

-I like how Minos was called "pater" (father in Greek) by Ariadne.

-I like how there are some words such "chiton", and "pithos", alongside with "pater". apeard.

Wow so many positives. Now let's get to everything else.

So Ariadne is a assasin, who just killed someone. A bisnise man called Botsaris. And her sister is also mentiond.

And her sisters's name is Lia. Okey. I gues. But why did she made up a sister? Ariadne had sisters in mythology. Xenodice for exemple, but there is veary little source about her, and there are two other figures who have the same name in Greek mythology. Acacallis, there are not much writen of her, but the defrent sources agree that Minos is her father, and eather had a romance with Hermes, or Apollo. There is also her most well known sister Phaedra, who I think needs no introduction. So I don't get why she had to make one up?

And I don't know why, but for some reason this screan rubs me the wrong way. I don't know why. And I'm the only one who doas not really like this writing style?

Anyway. So after this Ariadne goas back to her apartmant, and goas to sleep. Then the next moring she goas to Minos, who is her boss, not her father. Who lives in a mension, that is also a temple, and a school for assasins, all of who work for him. By the way so far we don't know which god's temple it is. All the assasins have code names. Minos and Ariadne here a conversetion, about the last kill. Ariadne clearly hates him. Here is a part of the conversetion.

So one question. Why would people take it as evidenc that that was the reason why he was killed? Was it a public knowlige? Or I'm just stupid?

Also we also learn that in this Minos's surname is Karros. I don't know why he was given a surname.

So anyway. Ariadne recives her sister's ashes from Minos, then she goas home, and meets with her landlady, and recives a packige. She goas up to her apartmant, then this happands.

I looked up, and pithos is a type of jar. By the way.

And then there is the world building.

So aperently it eather takes place in an alternative timeline, or in the future. Or both.

This is from the prologue.

Agein, when doas this take place? Antient Corinth is already ruins. So agein when doas this take place? There are trains, cars, mobile phones, internet, and skyscrapers. I looked up, and found two Corinths. One is the ancient one, and the another one is the city's sucsesor. So did the writer mean the second one, or? Also why is it named Styx?

Also hy is Medusa working for him? Why?

Also also Hellas District? Isn't Hellas literally mean Greece?

And the rich district is named after Diogenes. I know that naming things like streets is a thing. After all here in Hungary we have streets named after Petőfi Sándor (one of our most well known poets). But naming the rich eria after Diogenes, that is full of banks, luxury shops, ect? Didn't he lived in the market place in a wine jar? I know that Alexander the Great was a big fan of him, but I'm the only one who thinks, that this naming doas not make sense. Wouldn't switching the names of the two eria make more sense? Or I'm just nickpicking, or something?

I'm to harsh?

Edit: I was wrong. "pater" is not Latin, but Greek word.

[pagesofkenna]

Just said "sheesh, Kenna, you're the smartest person I know" out loud while reading your tags on the FMA Truth and Ed's atheism post. Then I realized that Indiana probably doesn't care as much for this information as you might lolol

honestly i'd originally written a really annoying ramble about gods in fiction under that post and now i'm so glad i deleted it to write that much more succinct breakdown of my thoughts on the matter

[medicinemane]

Sometimes you have something that you could say, that you think about saying, that you more or less know how you'd phrase it... but it's just not fucking worth it cause you know for a fact that people don't fucking listen

I don't know, I try to stay... if not optimistic then at least with a mind set of "doesn't matter, we've got no choice but to try and make things better"

Truthfully though I think I'm extremely pessimistic when it comes to the chances of anyone actually listening to what I say

I'm not sure if I'm just bad with words but... it seems impossible to convey even simple thoughts to people so... truthfully I've more or less given up and have just stopped trying. Especially if I don't at least know people well

So there it is

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[cjlouwho]

“Hey, Cutie. What's your name?”

Buck stopped digging to look up at the man, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Buck,” he replied simply, sucking in a deep breath.

“Buck?” he questioned. “Just Buck?”

Buck sighed. “Evan Buckley. Most people call me Buck.”

The man smiled. “Evan's nice. I like Evan. I'm gonna call you Evan.”

“My boyfriend's really the only one who does that.”

The man stepped closer, invading Buck's personal space. “You're already taken?”

“I- I am,” Buck replied, tripping over his words. Now that he was closer, this man did have some beautiful blue eyes. They nearly stared right into his soul.

“Hm.” The man shook his head. “That's a shame,” he looked Buck up and down. “You're really... really hot.”

“Pr- Probably from the wildfire th- that's nearby.”

The man laughed. Damn, even his laugh did something to Buck. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I think you'd look good no matter what.”

“I really, um, I need to get back to digging, so the fire doesn't spread.”

“Looks like you could use a break to me.” The man pulled a bottle of water from his pocket, and the sight of it nearly made Buck's dry mouth start to water. “Ice cold, just for you.”

And well, it would almost be rude not to take the water. So he did.

He twisted the cap off and drank nearly half the bottle down. He couldn't help but notice the man watched every gulp, staring at his throat like he wanted to lick the sweat right off.

“Thank you,” Buck said once he finished. He went to hand the bottle back, but the man shook his head.

“That's yours,” he said. “Can't have a man as handsome as you passing out from dehydration. Someone may have to give you mouth to mouth.”

Buck swallowed hard. “Th- Then why'd you give me the water?”

Buck watched the man's blue eyes darken, his breathing picking up. He reached out, tugging on the collar of Buck's wildland gear to fix it. “You've gotta be careful, Evan. I don't usually go for taken men, but I might have to change my mind.” His hand slowly ran down Buck's chest as he pulled away from him.

Buck's breath hitched. He couldn't look away from this man. Couldn't help all the feelings bubbling up deep in his gut. “I... I don't even know your name.”

“Might be better that way,” the man replied, taking another step closer. His eyes moved down to Buck's lips. “I'll be able to remember you forever, and you can go back to your boyfriend and forget I ever existed.”

“I- I don't know if I could do that.”

“What? Go back to your boyfriend? Or forget me? Cause-”

“Dear God,” Eddie interrupted, exasperated. “You know other people can hear you, right? Get a room, or better yet, get a truck. I'll cover for you if it'll get you two to stop... whatever the hell this is.”

Buck sighed, resting a hand on his hip as he turned to Eddie. “We were just getting to the good part.”

“You've done this before?!” he exclaimed.

“Two days ago,” Hen informed him as she passed by. She gave a wave to the man. “Hey, Tommy.”

“Hi, Hen. Eddie,” he greeted with a nod and a smile.

Eddie groaned. “You two are pathetic.”

“Oh, are they doing that weird roleplay thing again?” Chimney asked as he walked up beside Eddie.

“You've heard it too?”

“I think half the firefighters in the county have heard it by now.”

“Three weeks!” Buck reminded them, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “We've been here for three weeks without more than a few seconds alone. Let me have this.”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “I'm gonna go get me a water since, apparently, it doesn't matter if I pass out from dehydration.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I'll bring you a water next time.”

“What about me?” Chimney asked. “Because, if I remember right, you'll have to give me mouth to mouth if I fall to the ground.”

“I will bring everyone water next time.” Tommy spoke loudly, so everyone around could hear.

“That's better,” Chimney said. He patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Come on, let's give the lovebirds a minute.”

Tommy turned back to Buck. “As much as I'd love to finish the scene,” he said once the others had walked away, “I do have to go. I told my group I'd only be five minutes.”

Buck couldn't help his pout, but he also knew he had to get back to work too. “When we get home, if we ever get to go home, we're not putting on clothes for three days.”

Tommy smiled, nose scrunching up. “Deal,” he agreed. He leaned in and gave Buck a quick peck on the lips. “I gotta go. Love you, Cutie,” he said with a wink.

Before he could walk off, Buck grabbed his turnouts and pulled Tommy back for one more kiss before letting him go. “Love you too. Be safe.”

[appleblueberry-pie]

Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 10

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 11 is here!

You dont know why you're crying.

No.

You do know why you're crying. You dont understand why you're crying for that reason.

You've been sitting out on the balcony after Mehmed confessed to you, crying like a child who'd been yelled at by their favourite teacher- quietly and shamefully.

"Y/n?" You quickly wipe your tears away as you hear him.

Ibrahim tilts his head as he walks in front of you, his concern growing as he sees your teary eyes on your veiled face. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

You sniffle, shaking your head.

"Then?" He notices your mismatched niqaab, the red color reminding him of the torn shirt of Mehmed he saw earlier. "Did something happen with Mehmed?"

You freeze, then nod.

He takes a deep breath before sitting beside you, keeping a respectable distance between you two.

"I know you might be thinking that he's a prince so he wont get in trouble for what he did, but I'm the grand vizir and the sultan's closest friend." He looks at you. "I can help you if you tell me what he did to make you cry."

"I... I am not crying because of Mehmed." You pause. "Mehmed confessed his love for me."

"And you're overwhelmed? Or do you not want his love?" Ibrahim asked cautiously.

"Of course I dont want his love, its just- it reminded me of someone." You close your eyes and immediately those blue orbs flash to your mind. "Someone from... the past."

"Did you love him?" Your eyes snapped open.

"What?"

"This person you talk of... did you love him?" Ibrahim asked.

"I..." Did you? Did you really love him? Even after what he did to you, did you still love him?

"I used to." You sniffled. "You dont love him anymore? Then why are you crying?"

Yeah. Why am I crying if I dont love him anymore?

"I guess... I just miss him. And the memories we made, the way he made me feel." You whisper.

Ibrahim looked ahead at the dark sky, clear and filled with stars. "Go to him then."

You shake your head, frowning. "I cant." You wipe the tears from your eyes. "Pasha, how do I... how do I stop Mehmed? I cant, I cant be with him. In any capacity."

"I'm working on finding a way out for you, Y/n. I promised I'd keep you safe, didnt I?" Ibrahim's determined face put you at ease somewhat.

"Just tell me."

"In due time." He looked back at the sky. "The weather is nice tonight, not humid like yesterday."

You follow his gaze to the sky. "It rained earlier." You take a deep breath, trying to inhale the sweet earthy smell of rain.

There's a word for it. Petrichor.

You looked at the man beside you when you felt movement. Ibrahim had removed his turban and loosened the collar of his kaftan. He ran a hand through his thick hair with his eyes closed as a breeze of air passed, and you saw his shoulders relax.

The wind blew your niqaab as well, lifting it just long enough for you to smell the cool air.

"You should feel air as well." He said with his eyes closed. "It'll relax your mind."

He was referring to your veil and hijab. "You have the privilege to do that. Dont show off." You smiled.

He opened his eyes and stared at you. "I'm all relaxed now. You can enjoy the privilege now." He wore his turban back and fixed his collar. "Go ahead. I'll keep a look out." He stood up before smiling down at you with... warmth. Kindness.

"Enjoy these moments when you can, Y/n. They're rare."

You watched Ibrahim walk away and true to his word, he turned away from you and kept guard while you cautiously removed your niqaab first, and then loosened your headscarf.

You closed your eyes as the cool air hit you gently. You couldnt help the sigh that escaped you when you felt it on your neck, cooling it. And how long had it been since you felt the air breeze in your hair?

Too long.

After a few more moments in silence, you finally stood up after wearing your hijab and veil and turned to him.

Ibrahim turned around when he felt your presence behind him.

"Feeling better?" You nod. "Significantly. Thank you, pasha."

He gave you a courteous smile with a slight bow of his head.

Ibrahim escorted you back to your room and bid you good night before returning to the balcony.

He sat down on the same bench as the cold wind breezed, and he closed his eyes, your face haunting his mind.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the dark clouds in the sky. A few moments later, it began raining again.

Ibrahim raised his hands to make a prayer, after all- it is said in hadith that supplication made during rain is not rejected.

With sincere intention, he made a silent prayer in his heart.

"Oh Allah, make space in Y/n's heart for me.

I would like to reside eternally in my home country.

Amen."

-

The next two weeks went by... not uneventful. You tried your best to avoid the royals, but with Mihirmah bringing in Mehmed everytime you came to teach her, and Mustafa bringing you more broaches (which Mihirmah took from you everytime) because he thought they suited you (you're pretty sure this is his way of staking his claim on you, there's no way he doesnt know Mihirmah is the one taking them when she openly flaunts them in his face.)

Baris has been as annoying as ever, pestering you for gossip and to tell him "which prince you like more so that he can win the bets".

"So what exactly did you say when sehzade Mehmed said "I love you?" Baris asked as he looked through your closet.

You were looking out the window. "Thank you."

"Thank you? You said "thank you?" God, how dumb are you?" He shook his head while you smiled, looking outside but your mind was somewhere else, somewhere behind in time.

"I love you." He repeated, eyes still twinkling at how you continued to become flustered.

You opened your mouth and then closed it like an idiot, not knowing how to reply.

"Thank you." You finally said, looking anywhere but at him. He burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh god- I tell you- I love you and you say "thank you"? You really are something out of this world!" Baldwin teased you, making you huff.

"Y/n!" Your head whipped around the annoyed eunuch. "What?"

"We have to go to the harem." "Harem? Whatever for?"

"To make you learn a sensual dance for the princes- what do you think?! Its Friday! The sultan and sehzade have gone to the mosque for the Friday prayer- they'll be coming back soon and we have to welcome them." You scowled but followed him outside before halting.

"Both of the sehzade are gone?" Baris nodded.

Oh good. "Baris, you go ahead. I'll join you later." You turned around to leave but he grabbed your forearm.

"Absolutely not! Where are you going? What are you upto?" He gave you a pointed look.

You tried to pull your arm away. "Baris please-"

"No." He tightened his grip. "You might as well tell me because I'm not letting you go alone."

Your shoulders slumped.

"I have to find something." He raised a brow. "Do you remember that room where you found me and sehzade Mustafa? The one where his loot from his last conquest was present?" He nodded.

"Well, I need to go there again." "Why, exactly?" You resisted the urge to inhale as you told him your excuse.

"Because... I have to look for a present for Mustafa."

"What?" His grip on your arm loosened.

You shrugged. "You were right. I like Mustafa and if I plan on marrying him one day, I need to find something to impress him. So if I were to look at his loot, perhaps I'd be able to find what he likes."

Baris studied your face for a few moments before grinning. "I knew you were a just keeping this pious woman charade for personal gain." You frowned at his statement. "Fine. But I'm coming along."

"No, you dont need-"

"I wasnt asking." He began walking ahead of you. "Besides, the loot was moved from that room."

You followed behind him. "Moved where?"

The corner of his lips quirked up. "To sehzade Mustafa's room." He turned to look at your drained expression, and waved you off. "Its fine. I'm with you, arent I? The guards will let us pass through and everyone in the family is busy getting ready to welcome the sultan. No one will catch us."

True to his word, none of the guards or servants stopped you two from entering the Mustafa's wing of the palace. They all seemed to either respect Baris a lot to let you two breeze past them, or they feared him. And knowing Baris and his knowing eyes that probably have dirt on everyone, you knew the latter was true.

"Baris." You stopped him from following you inside Mustafa's room. "You stand here and keep watch. I'll go check."

"Keep watch? What are you- trying to steal his undergarments-" You slapped a hand on his mouth. "Do you ever shut up?" You snapped at his amused eyes. "Stand here and keep watch." You ordered before entering the room.

It was true that you did indeed need Baris to keep a look out for anyone walking in on you, as it has happened way too many times now, but you also needed him out of sight when you got rid of the stupid portrait.

Ah yes, your portrait that Baldwin had so lovingly commissioned and had managed to survive over 400 years and you needed to get rid of before it became a part of history permanently.

You looked around his large room, spotting a cloth covered pile in the corner. You marched to it and lifted the pile, recognising the loot. However, you didnt find your portrait in it.

Where is it?

You turned around to leave, only to freeze at the sight of the person standing there.

Mahidevran sultana.

All the other times you'd been caught, by Suleiman, by Mustafa- you always dropped your head into a courtesy. But now, with Mahidevran standing there with no expression on her face yet the daunting aura coming off her in waves- it had you frozen in spot.

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

What do you say when you're caught red handed in a prince's chambers?

Mahidevran took a deep breath.

"Have you stolen it?"

You blinked.

"S-sultana?" Stolen what?

She raised an eyebrow, clasping her hands as she continued to put you under her sharp gaze.

"Have you stolen what you came for? What exactly were you looking for? Mustafa's gold? His jewels?" She tilted her head. "Dont try to deny that you didnt come here for nothing-"

"I did." Your throat went dry as her eyes narrowed. "I did come here for something. But I'm not stealing anything. I... am trying to earn it."

"And what exactly would be that?"

"Sehzade Mustafa's respect." God, where do I come up with such bull-

It was Mahidevran's turn to blink. Earn Mustafa's respect?

"I... dont know if I love the sehzade, but I do admire him. A lot. He has been very kind to me, very civil to me and... he's gifted me a lot. Not just with his expensive jewels, but also with his company. I just thought- I just wanted to return the favour. And I came here to learn more about him- to find out about his likes and dislikes."

At the end of your explanation, a small smile formed on Mahidevran lips.

"Then you should've just come to me." She walked upto you, her eyes much gentler than the hostility they held just moments ago. "Who would know him better than his own mother?"

You could only offer her a courteous smile and nod in agreement.

"Come now. I will teach you everything there is to know about Mustafa. I know him better than I know myself." She beckoned you to follow her, her heart beaming with pride at you finally making a real effort to pursue her son. Soon everything will fall into place, Mustafa will marry you and you'll give him his heirs and Suleiman will make him the next sultan and then finally, Mustafa will kill his brothers and Hurrem's reign will end.

As you walked out of his chambers, you saw Baris smirking and you knew instantly he didnt alert you about Mahidevran's arrival on purpose. He set you up. Just like Isabella, he will betray you every chance he gets.

But... where did the portrait go?

-

"Would you like to go out today?" Mustafa had decided to take you out of the palace, after Mahidevran told him to spend more time with you. He knew taking you out would make you happy, at least you dont seem to be so tense with him. With his father's permission, who was more than happy to accompany Mustafa to his province- Manisa for a few days. After all, you did deserve a short break from teaching his little sister.

And with Mehmet gone on a conquest, it was hard for Mihirmah alone to stop either of you from leaving and spending time together.

You happily agreed, at least this would give you more freedom to explore escape routes and fix your time machine?

Once again in disguises, Mustafa gave you a small tour of his province and you had to admit, he did a fantastic job managing Manisa all by himself. You definitely saw his administrative skills, how he improved the economy and even prepared the province for any future disasters.

After handling some official matters, Mustafa was surprised to see you waiting for him at the stables.

"Would you like to go hunting?" You asked, brushing the horses's mane.

Hunting? As a woman?

"You know how to hunt?"

"No."

"Then...?"

"I may not know how to hunt, but you do. So... shall we?" You asked patting the horse.

Mustafa helped you up on the horse. "Are you sure? Its not season yet, so it'll be hard to find any animals to hunt."

"Who said anything about animals?" You chuckle before galloping away.

It took him a few moments to shake out of the shock to understand your challenge. And then he mounted his horse and sped off after you.

Mustafa had never chased after anyone, much less a woman, but he had to admit- this was fun. And more than that, he was actually surprised at how good you were at riding. Your head leaned down into a straight line with your back, your calculated decisions when to stand and when to sit, you were far ahead of him. And he understood it wasnt your first time on a horse either.

Fortunately for you, you had both practical knowledge of physics and streamlining, as well as hours- DAYS of horseback riding from your time in Jerusalem. Just about four centuries ago?

However, Mustafa was still more skilled in horse riding and after finally catching upto you, he all but brought you to a halt when he blocked your path.

You both stared at each other, heaving and trying to catch your breath before breaking out into a laughter.

Thats how the two spent most of your time, riding and hunting small animals, Mustafa being in his element when he taught you archery, holding you close yet not uncomfortably, as he helped you aim bullseye. And somehow, you would soon hit the bullseye in his heart.

"And then, Qasim took the blame for me!" Mustafa laughed as you told him about your shenanigans from your childhood. You two were having dinner and after spending so much time together, making conversation had become so much easier.

"He took care of you, didnt he?" You nodded, smiling fondly at the mention of Qasim.

"As all elder brothers do, he was the best." Noticing the sadness in your eyes, Mustafa carefully asked you.

"So, you have no family left?" You shake your head. "No, they were all killed by some bad people. I only narrowly escaped them and found refuge with my grandparents before... before the Janissaries came and took me from them. And... here I am now."

Mustafa's heart wrench slightly. He knows the importance of family.

"I could take you to see them." He offered, but his expression turned puzzled when you turned him down.

"I appreciate that but... no. I cant meet them again, it'll be too much for them. The wound is still fresh, Mustafa. And if they were to see me again only to be taken away from them, accompanied by the Janissaries- they wouldnt recover. I wont hurt them again." You whispered the last part, looking off into the distance as you remembered the old couple who helped you.

"Maybe... maybe when we return home, we can go to the market again. Maybe I'll see them there, just from a distance?" Mustafa nodded at your request. How could he say no to such an innocent ask?

"How do you like Manisa?" Mustafa changed the subject.

You nodded in approval. "I had heard about how well you've done here, but when I saw the city... I must say I am very impressed, sehzade."

"You sound surprised. Did you not think I would be a good governor?" He teased as he poured you some tea. You chuckled.

"I am not surprised. I am proud." He froze. "It definitely takes a lot to run a province properly, especially when you have a lot of pressure on you, not just from the sultan but from the very people you're responsible for. And while you have managed the finances as well as put a stop to all revolts, crushed the rebels- all amazing feats, but what really stands out for me is that you've earned the love."

"Love?" "Mmhm. Its very easy to be in a position of power and make people fear you. But its much harder to have their love. And... I'm very pleased to tell you that I have not heard one word, not a single person who had anything except praises for sehzade Mustafa."

"I am very proud of you, Mustafa." You stated, your eyes smiling from your veil.

Mustafa felt as if time had stopped.

I am very proud of you, Mustafa.

Those words, that praise... isnt that what he's yearned for all his life? Sure, Mahidevran may have said those words to him many times, but she's his mother. She always sings his praises.

I am very proud of you, Mustafa.

His father has never said it to him, but he's heard Suleiman say it to Mehmed.

With his younger brother, Mehmed, Mustafa understands that Suleiman may love him just a bit more than him. Truly, Mustafa loves Mehmed too. Its natural for him to feel affection for his younger brother.

But... doesnt he deserve to be praised by his father too? Doesnt he have the right to get a pat on his shoulder for a job well done? Or is it just "his duty as a prince" everytime he works hard? Or is it that no matter what he does, how well he does it, he'll never earn Suleiman's priority over Mehmed because his father loves Hurrem more than Mahidevran? Because of his mother? Still, she is his first wife. And still, he is Suleiman's first born. Doesnt he ever deserve to even delude himself that he has a chance at being the next sultan? At being chosen?

"Mustafa?" Your soft voice breaks him out of his trance.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He tried to smile, his mind still plagued by his previous thoughts.

You point at the box you had place in front of him. "I got you a small present, for all the times I um- lost your brooches." You coughed and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know Mihirmah was the one taking them from you. You dont have to lie to me, Y/n." Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he picked up your box.

You smiled sheepishly. Hey, you're glad that he isnt mad at you for that spoilt brat stealing his gifts off you.

Upon opening the box, Mustafa's grin widened as a small chuckle escaped him.

Its a small crocheted rose, a pin dangling for him to attach it to his collar.

"I know its useless next to your precious jewelled brooches and even though your mom was more than happy to give me some jewels, I wanted to give you something different. You dont have to wear it-"

"Will you place it on me?" Mustafa cut you off. You nodded as you moved closer to him and took the rose from him. "Where should I put it? Turban? Collar? Chest?"

"Wherever it'll be the most prominent." He smiled gently. You leaned closer as you carefully pinned the rose to his chest.

Mustafa held his breath as he stared at your focused eyes, and he doesnt remember the last time he was so attentive to studying someones eyes. He never realised how long your lashes were, or the crease in your eyelid, or the different shades in your eye, or the way his heart skipped a beat when you looked up at him, or the way his heart warmed when your pupils dilated and he was ready to give you the world if you asked for it.

"Perfect." He whispered as you finished placing the rose on him, but his eyes never left yours.

He finally broke out of the trance when you moved away, averting your eyes and he figured he must've been too obvious.

"Thank you." He cleared his throat before looking down at his rose. "How did you learn to... embroidery?" He changed the subject once more.

"This isnt embroidery. Its crochet." You explain to him that you learned it from your mother, which is true. Your mother, who despite having a degree in STEM, had to work as a seamstress when she moved back to your hometown to make ends meet. Only thing you left out was that your mother hated crocheting, and she only did it when she was mad, so anytime you spotted a crocheted sweater or scarf or anything, you knew your mom was having a bad day. It was ironic at how something so cute could come out of such a negative emotion, but perhaps thats what she was trying to teach you. She wanted you to channel out your negative energy into something beautiful and to be honest, crocheting did relax you because of how long it took and how repetitive it was. By the time you were done crocheting, you had processed your emotions and kept yourself in check AND now had an adorable, soft product to play with.

(Deep down you knew she was worried from how many times you had decided to use your brain to come up with elaborate pranks to get back at people. So, as mom would say- "crochet your anger away, Y/n.")

Mustafa smiled at your memories.

"I would like to give you something as well, Y/n. Ask for anything." You tried to refuse but upon his insistence, you finally sighed exaggeratively, as if this wasnt exactly what you wanted.

"Do you remember that portrait? The one in your loot when we first met?"

Mustafa nodded. "I do. But unfortunately, I had given it away to a Roman diplomat as goodwill." He watched your shoulders drop.

"Ask me for something else." He offered again but you waved him off, saying you dont want anything else at the moment.

By the time you two left Manisa, Mustafa had decided that he was going to marry you.

He likes you, he doesnt know if you love him but he does know for sure that you respect. And he respects you.

Respect. Isnt it more important than love? Not all relationships, not all marriages are out of love, Mustafa knows that. But any good marriage can only work if both parties respect each other, if they trust each other.

His father loves Mahidevran, some part of him still does love her despite marrying Hurrem. And he's sure that a small part of him loved every concubine his father slept with, but... not everyone had his respect.

No, Suleiman only loved AND respected Hurrem. He loved Mahidevran, but he didnt respect her. If he did, he wouldnt have humiliated her by marrying Hurrem, a slave, He wouldnt have humiliated her by having five kids with the same woman while neglecting his mother. He wouldnt have humiliated Mustafa by favouring Mehmed over him at every chance.

Mustafa doesnt have Suleiman's respect.

But he has yours. And his mother's. And of the people of Manisa. And that is enough for him.

Thumbing the crocheted rose, he could only hope you dont mind that he lied to you about the portrait. Its in his chambers, here in Manisa. For him to stare at, to clear his mind as he peered into those eyes above the paint smudges, that looked eerily similar to yours.

-

On returning to Constantinople (present day known as Istanbul), Mustafa had allowed you two first stop at the market as per your request of buying some souvenirs for the family, but he knew that was just an excuse for you to see your grandfather.

He watched you spot the old man in the market as you stood by the blacksmith, buying a dagger for Mihirmah despite your eyes being trained on the sad man who was busy buying vegetables. You two were still in disguises, with the guards undercover as well, when there was a commotion.

Your grandfather was being harassed by the same merchant who had given him money and Mustafa would like to think that he interfered because it was his duty as a Muslim and as a sehzade to stop evil, but deep down, he knows he only stepped in to impress you.

Mustafa and a couple of the Janissaries, all disguised as civilians, walked upto the merchant and pushed him off the old man. Before the merchant could start heckling, Mustafa threw a pouch of gold coins and told him that the debt is paid. Period.

He didnt have to say out loud the outcome if he bothered your old man again.

By the time Mustafa returned by your side, standing tall as you looked at him gratefully.

I am proud of you, Mustafa.

"Thank you." You tell him, and Mustafa's heart soars at your validation.

You respect him.

Mustafa looked to the side, the tip of his ears turning pink. "Did you get a present for Mihirmah?"

You nodded, showing him the dagger you bought (with the money Suleiman had been paying you for teaching). He approved it, and you two returned to Topkapi palace, not knowing about the shit storm that was about to come.

-

Mehmet watched from the balcony as you returned to the palace with Mustafa beside you, laughing openly as his elder brother looked at you in a way that he never wanted anyone besides him to look at you.

Mustafa would've liked to walked you to your room but after he was called by his mother, you assured him you'll make it to your room just fine.

What you werent expecting was to find Mehmed standing in the hallway, waiting for you to be alone. He wasnt supposed to return so early from his province, but after Mihirmah wrote to him about you fleeing away with Mustafa to Manisa, he wrapped up his work there and came home straight away. He thought he made it clear what his intentions were with you, but it seems like sweet talking didnt make a dent on you.

"Sehzade-" You stopped your greeting when you saw him march towards you, and you involuntarily took a step back. His body language was not friendly at the moment.

"What were you doing with Mustafa?" He seethed, his arms behind his back as if holding himself back from lashing out.

"I- I went out to get a present for Mihirmah-" You began showing him the dagger but he cut you off.

"Why?"

"Why?" You didnt understand his question. "Why what? I was away in Manisa-"

"Why?"

You frowned this time. What was he asking?

"Because sehzade Mustafa invited me-"

"Why?"

You couldnt help but glare at him annoyed. Why what?

"Because I wanted to get out of the palace-"

"Why?"

"What do you want me to say?" You finally asked. Mehmet glare intensified at your question. "You're clearly accusing me of something, so say it."

"Why did you leave the palace?"

"I told you, I went to Manisa on sehzade's invitation." You paused, trying to piece together the reason for his behaviour. Jealousy? "I couldnt have turned sehzade Mustafa's invitation, it wouldve been rude-"

"This isnt about Mustafa!" He snapped. "You shouldnt have left the palace in the first place!"

"And why not? I'm not a slave who is bound to these walls." You reminded him gently, but his patience seemed to have worn thin.

"And neither is my mother, nor Mihirmah but they still stay here, only leaving when the sultan takes them along."

You looked at him in confusion. What was he getting at?

Mehmed seemed to get even more angry at your bewilderment. "There's a reason women stay in their homes. Its not safe for them out there."

"I appreciate your concern, but I doubt anyone would want to hurt me. I am not a princess or a part of royalty. My status is far too low for anyone to even bat an eye my way-"

He laughed humourlessly. "Status? You think I'm talking about protecting you from enemies of the empire?" Mehmed neared you as you took another step back. "You're in danger from the world. You're in danger from those very men that see you everytime you walk out of these palace walls. You're a walking temptation for these men and their disgusting, vile thoughts."

You blinked at him. Is he- did he just say you tempt men?

"How can I tempt men when I'm covered from head to toe?" You point at your niqaab and your chaddar.

"YOU'RE A WOMAN! THAT ALONE IS TEMPTATION ENOUGH FOR LINGERING EYES!" He yelled as an angry vein pops up in his temple. "It doesnt matter that not an inch of your skin is visible, but the moment these men know that you're a woman, you're meat for them. You attract their attention when you leave the palace walls, you attract their eyes when they see your feminine shadow, you attract their ears when they hear your soft voice, you attract their nose when you pass by them with your sweet scent. Even if they cant see your face, your existence alone is enough to plague their minds!" He points at your niqaab. "This veil that you seem so proud of? That you think protects you from male gaze? It only makes men to want to rip it off you more!"

You're staring at him in utter disbelief. Aint no way- no way this man is accusing you of tempting men, all while insulting your niqaab.

"I dont know what men you're talking about, but you're wrong if you think I'm using my veil, my covered body to invite men to stare at me." Your tone barely suppresses your anger. "I am surprised to hear you say such things. How can you pass such comments when your own mother and sister are-"

"I can pass such comments because my mother and sister stay within the damn palace! They dont go around sauntering like you, provoking men!" He yelled, his arms no longer behind his back, hands balled up into fists.

"Do you hear yourself? You're not making any sense-"

"I AM THE NEXT SULTAN! I AM UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO MAKE SENSE TO YOU!" He spat.

"How can I provoke men when my face is covered?!" You snapped back, reaching your wits.

Hearing your voice get loud, Mehmed's fury reached new levels as he backed you upto the wall, your eyes wide as he closed the distance between you. "You think you're safe?" He whispered harshly, his eyes boring holes into you. His hand reached up and grabbed your niqaab, threatening to yank it off you. "You think this piece of cloth can protect you? What can you- what can you possibly do if I were to rip this off you? Do you think you can stop me from making your worst nightmares come to life?"

Mehmed did not relish the fear in your eyes, nor did he enjoy the tear that escaped them. But like a child who needs admonishing to keep them from harms way, he found it necessary to reprimand you.

"Dont leave the palace again, Y/n." He said, his tone softening but still stern. "I dont want anyone, man or woman to see you. I dont trust anyone around you. Understand?" He patted your cheek to make you nod, and he finally backed away and left you alone in the hall.

Well, you're never truly alone in the palace. Especially when you have enemies. And who is your enemy, Y/n?

Everyone who is envious.

-

Word of your heated moment reached Mahidevran through the servants whispers, about how close you and Mehmed were, how he had pushed you upto the wall, a raunchy scene for anyone to walk in on, how Mehmed had lifted up your veil and traced your skin.

And of course, Mahidevran is inclined to believe these spicy rumors. She's experienced first hand what power hungry women can do when they put their mind to it. And her blood boils at how you're playing both princes, as if Mehmed could ever compete with her precious Mustafa!

Mahidevran all but screams at the maids to bring you to her, her hands shaking at the thought of you cheating on Mustafa- that too just moments earlier Mustafa was telling her how much he liked you and was ready to marry you.

You. You're ruining the plan. The plan to have Mustafa become the next sultan. Because- because you've been put to it by Hurrem, havent you? Isnt that why you're trying to make her son go after you while you pursue Mehmed? You want Mustafa to lose- you want Mahidevran to lose!

When you enter her chambers, Mahidevran all but sees red at the sight of you. You'r thrown to the ground and it doesnt register at first the hard smack she delivered to your face. But as soon as you look up at her, she lunges at you and continues to slap you over and over again, hurling curses at you, calling you all sorts of derogatory names, all while you try to save your face from her assaults because even if you could fight back, you couldnt hurt a sultan's wife.

"HOW CAN YOU CHEAT ON MY MUSTAFA?! MY LION! YOU FUCKING WHORE-!" She shrieked as she continued to slap you, her nails embedding into your skin and scratching it. Your face had gone numb from her slaps, and you couldnt verbalise a response even if you tried, her hands cutting you off everytime you tried to speak, leaving you to just cry and scream.

The guards and servants heard both your cries and Mahidevrans screams, but they didnt dare interfere. How could they? The sultana could easily have their heads chopped off for interrupting her punishment.

Mahidevran's own hands had gone numb from her thrashing, but her anger overtook any sense of self preservation as she continued to beat you to a pulp. Neither of you knows how long it had been until she was pulled off you.

"Mahidevran!" You watched bleary eyed as a red head came into the view. "Have you lost your mind?!" She admonished the queen.

Hurrem turned to look at you, grimacing at your bloodied face.

"Baris." She nodded at him to help you.

Baris immediately picked you up in his arms and carried you out of there.

You watched through tired eyes at Baris's concerned face as he looked down at you.

"Shit- sorry for taking so long to save you." He whispered, watching you slip in and out of consciousness.

You dont remember how, but the next moment you opened your eyes, you were in Hurrem's chambers with Baris tending to your wounds and Hurrem sitting on the ottoman watching you with a steady gaze.

You wince as Baris placed ointment on your busted lip.

"Careful, Baris." Hurrem warned, standing up and walking upto you. "She looks worse enough as it is. We dont need her falling unconscious in front of the sultan because you treated her injuries too harshly. He'll have your head chopped off." She joked though neither you nor Baris laughed; after all her words did hold some truth.

Wait- sultan?

"S-sultan?" You croaked, and Baris quickly helped you drink some water. "Why- why is the sultan coming?"

Hurrem looked at you in confusion. "Why? So that Suleiman could see what Mahideravn did to you and finally get rid of her. After all, Suleiman did warn anyone to not harm you. So, we can finally get rid of that thorn for once and for all." She sighed dreamily before looking at you. "All you have to do is cry in front of him and tell him how cruel Mahidevran is-"

"N-no." Baris's hand that was tending to you scratched cheek halted at your interruption.

"Excuse me?" Hurrem's sharp tone sent shivers down your spine.

"No. I wont say Mahidevran did this to me." In actual history, Mahidevran despite being exiled, outlives Suleiman, Hurrem and all their children. If you were to confess to what Mahidevran did, it would run the risk of Suleiman punishing her to the dungeons or worse, either way putting her life at risk and ruining the timeline.

"But she did do this to you." Hurrem stated, frowning at your attempt at denial. Or was it defense? "Ah, is it because you love Mustafa? You dont want to put his mother in trouble?"

"No. Mahidevran may have hurt me, but sehzade Mehmed was the reason. Your son did this and if you force me to confess, then that is what I will say- Mehmed did this to me." You replied, voice unwavering despite your heart beating loudly against your chest.

"Are you threatening me?" Hurrem glared at your audacity. Baris could sense the impending doom, and he feared you were at the receiving end of it this time.

"No." You swallowed. "I am merely stating at how this will play out. I suggest you dont have the sultan come and see me, better yet- throw me out of this palace altogether."

Hurrem stared at your bruised face and then she saw the determination in your eyes. She shot a look to Baris that had him scurrying you out of the room to give you two privacy.

"Even if you dont rat out Mahidevran, I can."

"You could. And then I will tell the sultan that it didnt happen, and you'll end up looking like a jealous second wife pinning the blame on the first wife." You tell her, watching as her face turned red with fury. "You could always let me go."

"Let you go? Why should I help you leave? And dont try to use Mehmed's behaviour with you as an excuse."

"Behaviour? He ordered me that I dont leave the palace walls ever because he thinks that I seem to invite men to leer at me." You tattled on him. "It may seem hard to believe sultana, but I dont wish to marry any of the princes, nor do I wish to stay within this palace. You know that the only reason I'm still here is because I couldnt say no to the sultan. But if you were to help me escape-"

You were silenced as Mahidevran burst through the door, her eyes zeroing in on Hurrem standing next to you.

"You-! You set me up! Both of you!" She shrieked as she stomped over to you two but Baris walked in with Mustafa, Mehmed and Mihirmah, all looking at the state of your injured face. They all stared at you, but it was Mehmed's eyes that pricked you and you quickly grabbed your veil, tying it around your face to cover it.

Mihirmah rushed to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Y/n! Who did this to you?!"

You didnt bother looking at Hurrem or Mahidevran when you replied.

"I dont know."

Mihirmah's brows knitted together. "You... dont know? It was a blind attack? Did you not see who was attacking you? Or did you just not recognise the attacker?"

You took a deep breath.

"I dont know."

Mehmed stepped forward, eyes narrowing at your answer. "What do you mean-"

He stopped talking when the doors opened again and in walked Suleiman and Ibrahim, the sultan's eyes scanning the room before falling on you.

You had stood up to bow to him and you kept your head down for as long as you could to not draw attention.

But Mihirmah had other plans in mind.

"Dad! Y/n was attacked again! So much worse this time!" She cried, clinging onto your shoulder.

Suleiman's concern grew as he looked you up and down, reading your body language: head down, shoulders tense, hands fumbling.

You were afraid.

"Y/n?" He gently called your name as you hesitantly looked up. Its hard enough to lie to sultan, but lying when you look him dead in the eyes is a whole another thing.

"Show me." He commanded, and you had no choice but to comply, as your slowly removed your veil.

Suleiman's eyes widened at the state of your face- bruised, bloodied and swollen. He walked closer, eyes watching you in disbelief. Who could have done this to you, that too in his palace?

"Who did this to you?"

You averted your eyes, lest they betrayed you. "I- I dont know."

"You didnt see them?" Suleiman was as confused as Mihirmah. "Did they attack you from behind? No- they scarred your face, they attacked you from the front. You should've seen them. Did you recognise them?"

You kept your head down. Shit. What are you supposed to say now?

"Y/n?" You looked up at him. Suleiman saw fear. "Dont be scared. Tell me- who did this to you?"

You swallowed thickly. "I dont know."

"Did you see their face?"

"I- yes." There was no point in lying about it when he already presented logic.

"Then? Who was it?"

"I dont know- I dont remember." You whispered.

Mustafa was trying to make sense of your statement when he glanced at his mother. Mahidevran was shifting on her feet nervously, clasping her hands tightly as she glared at you.

No. No, she couldnt have.

Suleiman's gaze hardened at your words. Who were you protecting? Or did you really not recognise who it was?

"Ibrahim." The vizir stepped forward. "Find out who did this to Y/n." Suleiman ordered as he stood up, turning around to leave when his eyes fell on Mahidevran, who was looking at him with a tight lipped smile.

"Are you alright, Mahidevran?" He asked his first wife, who nodded eagerly.

"Y-yes. Of course, my sultan! I'm just- I'm just worried for Y/n." Suleiman studied her for a few more moments before he turned his attention to Hurrem.

"You did right by informing me about this, Hurrem." He praised his second wife, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "I trust you to take care of Y/n, hm?"

Hurrem bowed her head and feigned a smile. "Of course, Suleiman." However, the sultan spotted her smile faltering and for a second, he saw her glancing at Mahidevran before averting her gaze.

Something was wrong. Suleiman's sixth sense was keeping him unsettled.

He looked at Mahidevran again, this time more closely as he studied her from top to bottom and thats when he saw it-

Her hands hiding under her sleeves.

Suleiman walked to Mahidevran and before anyone could react, he grabbed her hands and pulled.

Mahidevran's knuckles were bruised, her nails stained with your blood, her palms red.

"You did this to her?" He asked in disbelief. His Mahidevran? He knew she was a little unhinged at times, lost control of her emotions but... was she really capable of such violence?

"Suleiman I- she-"

"You're not denying." His grip tightened around her hands. "Mahidevran, have you lost your mind?!"

"Suleiman-"

"SILENCE!" He pushed her away, eyes blown wide in rage. Mahidevran trembled at the sight. "Have you completely lost it?! Why would you do this to her?! She's just a child! What is wrong with you?!"

Mahidevran fell to her knees, begging him for forgiveness. "Suleiman, I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You're sorry?! LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO HER!" He pointed at your face. "Why did you do this? What could she have possibly done to you to deserve this?"

"Suleiman, I only-" She stopped. What reason could she give? She cant tell him about you cheating on Mustafa with Mehmed, nor would it do her any good to pin the blame on Hurrem now. It would only weaken her position and cause Mustafa trouble.

Mustafa. She has to do this for him, to save his throne.

She mustered up all her courage, casting her ego aside as she looked at you.

"I'm sorry, Y/n."

Your heart dropped. No. Mahidevran just admitted to her crime. Suleiman will punish her. She will die- no, no no-

"Its okay, sultana. It was an accident." Everyone was looking at you now.

"An accident?" Mihirmah asked.

You nodded. "I- I entered her chambers while she was asleep. I startled the sultana, she thought I was an intruder- that I came to attack her. The room was dark- she couldnt have recognised me- it was all an accident."

Everyone knew it was big fat lie, but then again, no one was willing to refute your claims. On what grounds? With no proof, they were all inclined to take your word, even if they didnt believe it.

Suleiman looked back at Mahidevran. "You still didnt have any right to beat her that badly. You've truly lost it, Mahidevran. If you werent Mustafa's mother, I would've-" He took a breath to calm himself down. "You cant stay here anymore. I exile you to Manisa." And with that Suleiman walked out of the room.

-

Mustafa had left your room to see off his mother. He came to you after to thank you for trying to cover for Mahidevran, despite his father still banishing her.

Then again, exile was the least painful punishment for what she did to you.

He held his mother's hands as the servants packed her belongings. He wanted to go to Manisa with her, but she refused to let him accompany her.

"You must stay here, Mustafa." She cupped his cheek. "You need to protect Y/n. All this time, I thought she was cheating on you but Hurrem set her and me up. She wanted this to happen, for me to hurt Y/n! You must stay here and protect Y/n from Hurrem and Mehmed. Do you understand?" Mahidevran's habit of blaming everyone but herself for her actions prevailed over logic as usual.

He nodded, kissing the palm of her hand. "The next time we meet, I will bring her to you as my wife."

A bright smile graced her face as she quickly took off her own ring and gave it to him.

"I will pray for you, my lion." She kissed his forehead. Mustafa smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

"Dont worry about Mehmed, hm? He wont be a hurdle." She whispered to him.

Mustafa didnt understand what she meant about Mehmed, his own mind occupied by you. He saw how angry his father was when it came to you, almost as protective as he was of Mihirmah, how quick he was to have his mother- a queen on her knees, for you. He knew his dad never respected Mahidevran, but his actions were also ruled over by his concern for you.

Mustafa now understands how dire the situation is. He now understands why his mother wanted him to marry you. You- you are the key to having the throne, the key to ruling the empire, the key to everything.

-

While Hurrem was busy "calming" Suleiman down, which in fact was really just her getting praised for being a good wife, queen and most importantly now- "a mother figure to Y/n", for how quickly she took action and saved you from Mahidevran, how she tended to your wounds and brought you to her chambers rather than "risking Mahidevran attacking you by leaving you in the infirmary", her eldest was in your room.

Baris had just helped you sit on the sofa and was tending to your wounds when Mehmed, the sehzade who had just moments ago seen Mustafa leave your room, had his blood boiling at the sight of your face uncovered as Baris applied healing balms to your wounds.

"Get out." He ordered Baris, who looked at you before leaving the room.

Mehmed sat down beside you, picking up the healing balm and was about to apply it to your skin when you turned your face away.

"I can do it myself, sehzade-"

"Mehmed." He corrected you before turning your face to him harshly. "If you can do it yourself, then why let Baris do it? Do you enjoy his touch?" His tone was accusatory and full of jealousy, and you were getting real tired of it.

"I'm sorry, I was far too disoriented to notice it was a man who was tending to my wounds." Your sarcasm made his eyes narrow at you, as he continued to apply the ointment.

"Baris is not a man, he's a eunuch." And yet he's jealous of him. "And its not about a man touching you, i dont want anyone touching my wife-to-be."

"I dont remember agreeing to a proposal-"

"Then let me refresh your memory." He cut you off. "When I said "I love you", I meant we were to be married. As for a proposal, there never was one and there never will be one because I am a sehzade, and the next sultan. You dont get to say no to me. Do I make myself clear?"

If you had the means to get out of this era, you would've slapped the egoistical, chauvinistic, toxic man in front of you.

"Yes." You replied.

Mehmed stood up, but before he left, he looked at your veil.

"If you have to remove your veil to let your injuries heal, you better make sure you're alone."

Asshole.

-

A few weeks later, you were once again standing in the harem with the rest of the royals. Today, the sultan had to leave to go on a conquest. Ibrahim was also leaving, which unnerved you because you dont want to stay in a place without the only sane person who had your back.

Sure, Baris saved you but you knew better than to trust that piece of shit because his loyalty could be easily bought. Just like how you knew Hurrem did indeed was paying him to follow you, let you get beat up, and then fetch her to be your "saviour". And you knew that the only reason Baris would help you ever again, was because he had his own agenda on being your personal servant if you were to marry one of the princes.

Suleiman and Ibrahim entered the harem, ready to receive farewell from his family.

Hurrem was the first in line, kissing his hand and then him, before Suleiman pulled her in his embrace.

"I trust you to take care of the palace in my absence." He said to her, patting her cheek affectionately.

"Of course. I pray for your victory, Suleiman. May Allah sharpen your sword and defeat the enemy." She wished him well.

Suleiman then went down the queue, hugging his sons, daughters, favourite women of the harem, and then you.

"You will be safe here, Y/n." He watched you kiss his ring before bringing his hand to your forehead. With your head bowed, he kissed your the top of your head. "When I return, I have something important I'd like to discuss with you."

Your heart dropped. Discuss something important? Like what?

"Your marriage to his son, girl!" You heard Baris's voice in the back of your head.

Ibrahim only hugged Suleiman's sons, the royal women offering him words of support and prayers. When he reached you, you gave him a quick courtesy and a small prayer, but your eyes- they screamed for help.

Ibrahim! Dont leave me!

And Ibrahim got your message, but with everyone watching, he could do nothing but nod and move on.

As soon Suleiman left with his troops, you quickly made your way to return to your chambers to hide away until they returned. After your incident with Mahidevran, you had taken some precautions from being mauled again because really- who can you trust around here?

Mihirmah would come to your room to get her lessons, which now with her father gone, you doubt she will come to get them. Fine by you really, she's still a brat who finds glee in flipping you over your back.

Mehmed was much harder to avoid, he insisted on having lunch with you (because Hurrem wanted all her kids together with her at dinner). And these lunches were quiet stiff, because Mehmed may not be threatening you or showing off his jealousy, you still havent forgotten his remarks and you didnt really talk besides giving him curt replies, which he doesnt notice because his head is so far up his-

Mustafa was the normal one among them, and while he did offer you to take you out to the market or even the gardens, you didnt. Not because you were scared of Mehmed finding out, no. It was because- well, what happened to Mahidevran. Mustafa may have come to you and thanked you for trying to cover up for her, but no matter what way you see it- his mother was thrown out of the palace because of you.

And he has to hold some grudge against you for it. No matter how much he smiles, how many gifts he gives you, you just cannot risk him taking you the gardens or the market where there are no witnesses when "someone" ambushes you.

You've used most of your time holed up in your room with your time machine because the last time you went out with Mustafa to the market, you were able to get some tools and metals from the blacksmith while Mustafa was busy saving your "grandfather".

-

Its been 2 weeks since Suleiman left. Two weeks since you've been on high alert around this mad house, two weeks since you started losing sleep from all the stress and tension of being around Mehmed and Mustafa. Sure, Ibrahim gave you a entourage of maids and guards to keep you safe before he left, but how could that put you at ease when your entourage could fall with the flick of the wrist from these royals.

You've been able to repair your time machine as much as you could, but it still hasnt worked. You dont understand what you need to do, you've even tried smashing it against the ground like the last time you transported, but no. It didnt help.

You sat on the bench on the balcony, the same one when Ibrahim was here with you. You came here to get some fresh air, and you hoped Baris doesnt run into you because you just have it in you to hear him make a comment about the bags under your eyes.

The sky was filled with dark clouds again, the wind chilly and you smiled under your veil.

It was going to rain today.

Your mind flashed back to the last time you were here with Ibrahim. Just like now, you were worried and tense then. But he was there to calm you down, to put your mind to ease.

"You should feel air as well." He said with his eyes closed. "It'll relax your mind."

You closed your eyes as his voice came to mind.

"Enjoy these moments when you can, Y/n. They're rare."

You glanced behind you, at your entourage. The guards had their back to you, looking away from you and the maids. The maids all stood behind you, giving you space. They could see your stress.

A gentle breeze hit your face, and it was enough to push you.

You quietly removed your veil, setting it beside you before loosening up your headscarf.

A sigh escaped your lips as the gentle breeze cooled your neck, your tense shoulders dropping at the earthy scent of rain. You closed your eyes, trying to imagine yourself back in your time, back when you were a child, carefree and stress-free.

Home. I want to go home.

"Y/N!" Your respite was cut short by Mehmed's angry scream, who looked at you like he'd just witnessed the greatest crime you could ever commit: sitting unveiled, with part of your hair exposed along with your neck.

"What the hell are you doing?!" You quickly grabbed your niqaab and tied it around your head as you saw storm towards you, his guards following behind him.

"Mehmed- I-"

"You what?! You were sitting here EXPOSED! With the servants to watch!" He yelled at you, grabbing your arm painfully as he yanked you from your seat. "Didnt I explicitly tell you to fucking stay covered! Do you like putting on a show for-"

"ENOUGH!" Something in you snapped. "I wont have you accuse me over and over again! I was not putting on a show, Mehmed! I was just getting some air! Do I not deserve it?! As for putting on a show- the guards had their backs turned, they werent staring at me! Only the maids were behind me, and they too werent able to see my face! Now, let go!"

Mehmed's grip on your arm only tightened, and you almost yelped in pain if you werent so busy glaring at him. "Just because you think they didnt see you face, doesnt mean its alright for you to sit naked!" He yanked you closer as he bared his teeth at you. "I told you not to to ever remove your niqaab in front of others. You disobeyed me- my command! And now you will pay the price! As will they!" He yelled at his guards to arrest you entire entourage and throw them to the dungeons.

"Mehmed, stop-" "Shut up!" He yelled as he began dragging you away and towards his own room, throwing you inside.

He stalked towards you. "Since you seem to have no sense of preservation for your modesty, I suppose I will have to help you out as your husband-to-be. You will stay here until I return and if you try to escape, I swear to God, Y/n! I will fucking break your legs!"

You watched in horror as he left the room, locking it from outside and you dont doubt he had guards outside not to let anyone in or out.

I cant stay here any longer- I cant rely on Ibrahim any longer. Mehmed has fucking lost it, and I need to get out of here right now.

You fumble out your time machine, trying to turn it on to any time period really- you cant stay here anymore.

"Fuck!" You throw it against the wall, crying into your hands out of frustration. Why the fuck wont it work? A few moments later, you finally pick it up, pocketing it back in your clothes.

Hours passes by as you sat on the floor, crying at your demise, waiting for Mehmed to return and do whatever his insane self pleases.

The room had darkened, and you suspected it was night now. You look down and find the bracelet on your hand, the one Suleiman gave you and an idea popped in your head.

Bribery.

You knocked at the door.

"Hello? Whoever is out there- please- just open the door! I'll give you my jewels! Anything you need, I'm willing to pay!" You plead for a few minutes before slamming your hands against the wood, falling to your knees as you sobbed. "Please! I'm begging you! Help me-!" You stumbled back as the doors swung open.

"Well, if this is how quickly you resort to going on your knees, I have failed as a teacher." Baris grinned at you from above.

"B-baris?" You sniffled as he helped you stand up. "What are you-"

"I'm saving your ass. Duh." He pulled you out of the room, looking out both ways before taking the path on the left. You spot two guards lying on the ground.

"How did you-" You point at the them but he drags you along.

"I'm not just a pretty face, Y/n. You seriously underestimate me." He comments, his eyes scanning for anymore people. "Now we must make haste. Otherwise, your lover boy may take a break from the dungeons to torture us instead-" He stopped talking when he looked at you.

"Torture? Baris, what did Mehmed do to them?" Your entourage was thrown into the dungeons. Baris avoided your eyes. "Baris." You insisted.

"He's having their eyes stitched up for staring at you."

You face paled. Mehmed is insane. He's fucking insane. Baris took your hand and dragged your shellshocked body.

The two of you soon made it out of the palace undetected. 4 horses and 5 women waited for you two there. You recognised them- they were from the harem.

"Baris, what are you- why are they here?" You whispered harshly. If the palace finds out there are concubines missing, it'll only cause more trouble for you and him.

"Relax, they're here to help us." He waves at them, making them giggle before he looks back at you. "We will all get on the horses and take different paths to throw the Janissaries off long enough for you to escape."

"Escape to where?"

"Wherever you want to go. I would suggest going West and leaving the empire altogether, maybe go to the Romans. Keep a low profile and try not to seduce any more unhinged men." He pokes fun at you, despite the situation you're in.

You chuckle, tears of gratefulness in your eyes. "Thank you, Baris." You sniffle, taking off your bracelet. "Here. You can have this. Its the least I can do-"

"Girl, you need it more than I do." Baris pushes the bracelet back to you. "Besides, I've already been compensated generously."

"By who?" You ask and he gives you a knowing look. "Ibrahim?" He nods.

"He had been paying me since the moment you set foot in the palace to keep you safe. You think I just stuck around you because I like you so much?" You slapped his shoulder, making him laugh. "Okay, you werent all that bad. But wherever you go, I'm sure Ibrahim pasha will find you."

"And why is that?"

"Well, he was going to marry you." "What?" Baris looked at you confused. "You dont know? Ibrahim pasha talked to Sultan Suleiman about this. The sultan gave his blessing, but he wanted to ask for your consent as well. But then they went to war-"

So thats what Suleiman wanted to discuss with you.

"Anyways, Ibrahim pasha had given me permission to do whatever is necessary to keep you safe, even if it meant taking you out of the palace- or- well staging your kidnapping. When the time comes, Ibrahim pasha will find you and I will be long gone by then." Baris explained.

"You're willing to leave the palace behind? For me? I thought you liked it here." You were touched at his willingness to help you, even if he was taking money.

Baris shrugged, looking at Topkapi palace longingly. "I've had my fun here. Its time for me to go somewhere else. Have a fresh start, where I'm no longer a slave."

You smiled, nodding understandingly. "And them? Are they willing to risk it all for me as well?"

"Oh no. They're in love with me. And when they heard I was leaving, they decided to come along. Just cant get enough of me." You shot him a look. "We might start a brothel. You should come visit with Ibrahim pasha someday."

"Why the fuck would I go to a brothel-" He broke into laughter at your reaction.

"I'm just joking! But do visit me, hm?" He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. He helped you up on the horse before mounting his with a girl behind him, the others mounting the other horses.

"Thank you, Baris. For everything." Baris gave you a nod. You suddenly heard yells from behind you.

"Time to go!" Baris yelled.

-

You were galloping through the woods, the same forrest where you had first landed here. It was raining dogs and cats, making it hard for you to see ahead of you and even harder for the horse to run through the wet ground.

Your mind wandered back to Ibrahim. All this time, you thought he'd abandoned you and yet he was the one who had your back.

Was he really going to marry you?

You doubt he would've. Or even if he did, the question was- would you have said yes?

Maybe. He is the sane one of the ottomans, and apparently the only one who is willing to help you. You're sure he wouldnt have done anything unbecoming of a man even if you married him. And why would you not marry him? It buys you time to work on your machine and get out of this era, AND it protects you from the royals, especially Mehmed.

Mehmed. Your heart wrenched at the thought of him punishing those poor servants. Did he really have their eyes stitched up? What would he have done to you on returning? More importantly, what would he have done if he caught you escaping.

"I'll break your fucking legs!"

You shuddered at his threat, leaning down to speed through the woods.

Maybe God finally cut you a break- how else could you explain all this? Baris being the one to break you out, despite you being sure he'd betray you the first chance he gets. Ibrahim pasha having your back all this time. You escaping the palace without the Janissaries or anyone hot on your tail. Maybe your time machine will finally work too. Maybe you'll finally make it out of here. Maybe you just lucked out-

You heard the clouds above you roar loudly and in the next moment, you heard yourself scream as you were blinded by a white flash, throwing you off your horse.

You laid on the ground, pain radiating throughout your body, vision blurry, palpitations in your ear as you tried to make sense of what had happened.

A lightening strike.

You were struck by lightening.

If you werent in so much pain, rapidly losing consciousness, you wouldve laughed at your fortune.

Lucked out?

More like out of luck.

-

Mustafa had walked in on Mehmed screaming and threatening to kill every servant, his sword bloody. Looking behind his younger brother, he spotted two headless guards.

"Mehmed?" He asked cautiously.

"She escaped! She fucking ran!" Mehmed yelled before he could ask what was wrong. He raised his sword to cut off yet another head, but Mustafa stopped him.

"Tell me what happened." Mustafa's strong voice had Mehmed reeling some of his anger back, explaining what had happened.

After listening to him, Mustafa sighed. "We'll find her, Mehmed. Calm down." He looked at his Janissaries and ordered them to close off the city, and the docks. No one leaves.

"She could've already left the city-"

"Its unlikely for her to have managed to do that, that too when its pouring heavily." Mustafa, the cool headed prince, began to think logically.

"Then where is she? The city is still too big! It'd be like finding needle in a haystack." Mehmed sneered, glaring at the servants.

Mustafa closed his eyes, trying to think of where you could possibly ran off to.

He snapped his eyes open. Of course, you'd be there.

"I know where she is." He stood up, Mehmed following behind him.

-

You woke up to someone wiping your cheek. It took a few moments for your vision to clear, your eyes looking around what seemed to be a cottage before landing on the person beside you.

Old lady.

It was the old lady. The one who saved you when you dropped at her doorstep when you entered this era.

"Oh dear, you're finally awake!" She smiled gently, continuing to wipe the mud off your cheek. "You're lucky my husband was out when he spotted you unconscious. You could've drowned in that rain, you know?" She said in a chiding town, as if you chose to lie down in the pouring rain.

The old man walked out of the kitchen with a cup of hot tea in his hands.

"Here you go, hun. Drink this." He handed you the cup before sitting beside his wife.

"Now, where've you been all this time?"

By the time you were finished telling them everything that happened to you, from being kidnapped by the Janissaries to be sold as a slave, to almost dying a few times in the palace, to being set up to marry one of the two princes, to being struck with lightening, the old lady was in tears as she pulled you into her embrace while the old man continued to yell a stream of curses at the Ottomans.

When you tried to leave, they stopped you- telling you its absolutely unsafe for you to go anywhere in this bad weather. And well, hearing the heavy rain and the fact that you were indeed struck by lightening, you couldnt really argue.

"Okay, just for tonight."

While you were having dinner, you were taken back to your memories- memories of your own family. Sure, you were surrounded by family at the palace as well, but they didnt feel like home. They didnt really care for you, not like this cute old couple does. And to be honest, you missed this feeling. From your time in Jerusalem, to your time in the palace, this is the first moment of normalcy you've had in a while.

You looked at them, smiling as they made silly jokes and ate food. They included you in their conversations, they fed you, they made sure you were comfortable when you slept in the guest room- or what you assumed was their daughter's room.

You didnt tell them, you couldnt but you did try finding out what happened to her. Baris told you what did.

Naima. That was their daughter's name.

Naima was brought to the palace by the Janissaries as a concubine, and only a few weeks in- she was chosen to sleep with the sultan.

She killed herself the next day. She had jumped off the roof, but she didnt die instantly. She died as Hurrem watched from her balcony, and she refused to alert anyone to help the poor woman.

You didnt want to take this last bit of hope from the couple- the hope that Naima may still be alive and will come home one day.

-

You were woken up to someone banging on the door.

"BY THE ORDER OF SEHZADE MUSTAFA! OPEN THE DOOR!" Someone yelled from outside. The old man sprung to his feet as he peered through the window.

Janissaries. A whole troop of them and in the very front, sitting on top of their horses were Mustafa and Mehmed.

"Get her out of here." The old man told his wife, who hurried you out of bed and was about to leave through the back door when she saw the Janissaries out there as well.

"Come on." She dragged you up the stairs to the roof, just as you heard the door being broken down and yelling.

Reaching the roof, you looked down only to see the cottage was surrounded by the guards.

"We're surrounded." You whispered. "There is no escape."

"There is." The old lady whispered back to you, ushering you towards the edge of the roof. "Jump."

You looked at her. "What?"

"I wont let them take you back there. Jump, Y/n." She pushed you towards the edge.

"No- I'm not jumping!" You tried to back away but she gripped your arm.

"You have to, Y/n! I wont let them- I wont let any man take advantage of you! I wont let them do to you what they did to my Naima!" She cried, pushing you towards the ledge again, but you resisted against her, causing you to fall onto the ground.

"I'm doing this to save you!" She cried again, straddling you as she wrapped her hands around your throat. "Why wont you understand-"

"STOP!" A voice yelled. You both looked to the side to find Mustafa and Mehmed, the latter holding the old man.

Mustafa raised a hand in surrender. "Let her go. And we wont hurt your husband."

The old lady looked conflicted, as she looked at Mustafa and then at Mehmed who held a sword at the old man's neck, ready to slice it.

"I- I-" She continued to hold your throat as you struggled to breathe.

For a brief moment, the couple made eye contact and the old man smiled at her reassuringly.

"Do it. Save Y/n." He told her, but before anyone could react, Mehmed sliced off the man's head, Mustafa looking at his younger brother in shock as the woman shrieked before she began choking you hard.

With lightening speed, Mustafa pulled her off you and pushed her to the side.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" He crouched beside you, checking on you as you took huge gulps of air before nodding. Mustafa sighed in relief as he helped you stand up, only to turn around to find Mehmed holding the woman over the edge.

"Mehmed, dont!" He yelled, but it was too late. Mehmed kicked her in the back and the old lady fell to the ground. Mustafa left your side to look over the edge, eyes wide as he saw the woman hadnt died. Blood sputtered out of her mouth as she stared up with eyes blown wide.

And then, a sword fell on her neck straight down, finally killing her.

He looked to his side only to find Mehmed looking down disinterested, as if he hadnt just brutally murdered an old woman.

His younger brother.

A monster.

He watched Mehmed whisper threats to you as he dragged you back outside, practically throwing you over his horse. Mustafa let him take you- he wasnt going to fight who gets to ride with you when they were all going home.

Except... not.

Mustafa's brows furrowed in confusion as he watched Mehmed and his Janissaries take a turn and go a completely different path then the one to the Topkapi palace.

Where was he taking you?

Mustafa sped after Mehmed, his troops following behind as he yelled at Mehmed to stop.

But he didnt, not until an abandoned palace came to view.

Mehmed got off his horse, pulling you down before nodding at his men to take you inside.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mustafa asked as he got off his own horse, marching towards you but Mehmed blocked his path.

"What I should've done in the first place- duel."

Mustafa looked at him in disbelief. Duel? "You want to fight me? Have you truly lost it?!"

Mehmed got up in his face. "I've seen the way you look at her. I am not going to stand for it any longer."

"Mehmed-"

"Only one of us can have her, Mustafa. This ends today." Mehmed pushed him as he drew his sword.

Mustafa lips settled into a thin line.

"Fine." He pulled out his sword. "May the better prince win."

-

"Let go of me!" You try pulling yourself free from the guards grasps, but they continue to haul you inside the abandoned castle.

"I said- let go-!"

"Oh good, you're finally here!"

Mihirmah stood in front of you with a grin.

"Mihirmah? What are you doing here?"

She raised a brow. "What am I doing here? I'm here to prepare you!"

"Prepare me?"

"Mmhm! For your wedding to Mehmed!"

"What?"

She shrugged, taking you by the arm as she pulled you inside a room. "Well, when I found out you had run away, I suggested to Mehmed that the only way to make sure you stay by his side is for him to marry you. And I knew my mom would've stopped him from doing that, so I suggested he bring you here! By the time dad returns, you'd already be married to Mehmed and dad will definitely choose him to be the next sultan! Its only a cherry on top that Mustafa came here as well, and when Mehmed kills him- dad will have no choice but to choose Mehmed as his heir!"

You watched in disbelief before trying to make a run for it, but she anticipated it, snapping her fingers for the guards to lock the doors.

"Now, I will send the maids inside to get you ready. I need to go check on the sheikh who has to marry you two off." She smiled before leaving you alone.

She could care less about the sheikh, right now- she wanted a seat upfront to the showdown! Mehmed was going to win and she needed to be there to witness it.

-

Mustafa dodged Mehmed's attack again. Despite agreeing to the duel earlier, Mustafa had been taking on the defensive. Mehmed was his younger brother, he was still family even if he incredibly insane.

He cant bring himself to hurt him-

"Why arent you fighting?" Mehmed growled as he swiped at him again. "Are you that afraid of dying? Fight me like a man!"

"I dont want to fight you at all." Mustafa jumped back as he striked again. "You're my brother-"

"Like hell we are! One way or another, I'm killing you Mustafa! Be it today, or tomorrow when I'm finally sultan, because you know your mother screwed up any chance you had to be chosen! She fucked up and now you will pay for it!" Mehmed yelled, finally hitting a nerve with Mustafa.

My mother. They dont respect her.

Mustafa raised his sword as he struck over and over again, Mehmed barely able to escape the blade as it sliced his skin many times.

My own brother wants to kill me. And if I die, then so will my mother,

Mehmed groaned as Mustafa suddenly sliced the skin on his arm, the younger prince rolling onto the ground to avoid getting his arm cut off clean. But Mustafa was faster, kicking him in the stomach as Mehmed dropped onto the ground in pain.

"I am the better son." Mustafa said with a kick to his stomach.

"I am the better ruler." Another kick.

"I am the better choice." Another kick.

"I am better than you. In every way." Mustafa raised his sword to drop it on Mehmed's neck, just as cruelly he had done to that old woman.

Mehmed raised his hand in surrender as he coughed up blood.

"Please, Mustafa- d-dont. I'm your brother!" Mehmed begged for his life.

And in that moment, Mustafa saw his younger brother, the small child he promised to always protect.

Mustafa closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before stepping away.

"I. Win." He stated, turning around to leave. He was the bigger man. Once again, his mercy overtook his- no his love for his brother overtook his logic. He knows Mehmed wont back down, he will fight with him again. But that will be for another day-

"M-Mustafa." He looked back at him, his heart dropping at the sight.

Mehmed was coughing up blood, his face looked pale- and then he puked.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

And the moment his mouth started foaming, Mustafa remembered his mother's words.

"Dont worry about Mehmed, hm? He wont be a hurdle."

Mahidevran may have been exiled, but she still had a few people loyal to her. People who wanted Mustafa as the next sultan, not any of Hurrem's sons. People who more than willingly began microdosing Mehmed with poison.

-

You were trying to break a window to escape when the doors swung open. Mihirmah had returned, tears running down her cheeks.

"Mihirmah-" She hugged you before you could beg her to let you go.

"You look beautiful." She whispered as she pulled back, admiring the maid's work. "Mehmed always did adore the color red on you." She said in a trance.

"Mihirmah, please let me go." You plead and she gives you a broken smile.

"Thats what I came here to do." She whisperd, cupping your cheek. "I'm letting you go, Y/n. Mehmed's dead."

Oh. Thats why she's crying. But with Mehmed dead, you get to leave.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said, watching her stumble back towards the door.

"I'm going to miss you, Y/n." She nodded, grabbing the fire torch off the wall. "Tell Mehmed I love him."

What?

Mihirmah dropped the torch onto the ground, setting the wooden floor ablaze instantly.

"Mihirmah-!" She left the room, closing the doors before you could make your escape.

"Mihirmah! Open the door!" You slammed your fists as the room began catching on fire.

Mihirmah locked the door from outside, wiping her tears away as she walked away.

You are Mehmed's bride. You belong to him, in life and now... in death.

Goodbye Mehmed. She closed her eyes. You wont be alone now.

She watched from the balcony as the Janissaries- her and Mehmed's troops, cornered Mustafa and pushed him to the ground like an animal for slaughter.

The guard looked at her.

She gave a nod.

The next moment, Mustafa's head was chopped off.

-

Fucking Mihirmah!

You slammed your fists against the door one last time before falling down to the ground, fire spreading around the room.

Fire. Why the fuck does it always have to be fire? Why is everyone so hell bent upon burning you to crisp? First in the desert with Salauddin, then those concubines in the harem, now this. If you didnt have a phobia before, you sure do have one now!

You pulled out your time machine hopelessly. Piece of crap wont even turn on-

Its on.

Your eyes widened at the screen illuminating.

Its working.

But how-

The lightning strike! It mustve charged it! That or maybe it could sense every single time you're near death and decides to fucking work.

"Oh fuck!" You curse as flames begin to close in on you. Now is not the time.

With trembling hands you try to change the date and location, but the screen is still broken and it wont budge.

You groan in frustration as you slam the button, your surrounding blurring as you begin to travel. Whatever time you land in, it'll be better than the one where you almost burn to death.

Right?

So, thoughts?? How did you like this chapter? What will happen next?

I also sorta blacked out a few times while editing this chapter, so ignore any mistakes.

PART 11 is here!

[rogueddie]

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

[olgiisworld]

The interview // Choi Seungcheol

summary; you and Seungcheol have been a public couple on the media, both of you big artists, him being the leader of the group named Seventeen. Things have been a little rough lately due to lack of communication. You're invited to talk on a podcast about your recent achievements, but when your personal life is mentioned as a topic, you get bitter, and you don't manage to hide it. But how about the consequences?

Y/n x Seungcheol of Seventeen, genre: angst, frustration and unfairness with a hint of fluff in the end.

Word Count; 4,476 (oopsie)

Warnings; swearing

note; it took me months to finish this (mostly because of loss of inspiration, so you might notice inconsistency), but it's nothing special. Although you might like it :) I'd love to see comments! thank you for your support on my Beomgyu one-shot <3 smoochies ♡

it's been a while i've felt like shit. it's been a while i've felt more welcome to talk to the wall than talking to Seungcheol.

talking to Seungcheol seemed so hard for some reason. all we've been doing is fighting or ignoring each other. and that would be okay, if we didn't have each other's house keys.

it is hard to maintain a relationship that happened to go public, when none of you planned it. both me and Seungcheol being public figures really sat bad, especially with his constant need of privacy.

but it is hard. we can't just not leave the house.

that's mostly the reason we've been fighting.

everyday was a circle.

i return back to his apartment, where we had a silent agreement to meet everyday after work. my body and mind exhausted from all the work i've put in the studio. frustration seeping through my body, because of the disagreements i've had with the rest of my colleagues. concern, pain, fatigue, everything coming together, creating this unpleasant expression on my face. i know i seem cold.

but he just sits there. slumped on his couch. eyes fixed on the familiar black box. he cares enough to say "hey, how's work?", but not enough to ask about how I am. so i just shrug my shoulders and walk past him.

that's my life with my 'oh-so-wanted' boyfriend.

i'm a starved woman.

starved from love, from affection, from tenderness, from touch.

just touch.

his touch.

he hasn't touched me in god knows how long. all i get are dead kisses.

the repetition of each day made me feel angry, frustrated, pained, disappointed. made me feel like i was not worthy of him.

and the worst thing is that i cannot communicate my thoughts with the person i love.

he seems so stressed with his upcoming tour, that giving him one more reason to yell will only break him.

so i suffered in silence.

last week's fight was interesting.

a photo of us shopping together started making its way around social media. Seungcheol hated social media. and we both looked quite miserable in the photos, but i don't know if he noticed.

he yelled at me for not being careful enough.

apparently, i was the reason they saw us and they took those fucking pictures. like i enjoy being on strangers' camera rolls.

and i yelled back.

and we fought.

again.

damn it.

i cried so hard and he didn't even try to comfort me.

he didn't even touch me.

he didn't.

he didn't try to reach out.

he wouldn't even touch my hand by mistake.

i was so fed up.

so fed up of not feeling desired by the only person i loved..

the week passed, the same circle repeating itself.

i started going back to my house after work. Seungcheol didn't even try to ask why. he only said "i get that you might need space".

I am the one who needs the space?

i didn't even argue back. i knew where this was going and i felt like i was finally ready.

today, i had an interview.

nothing huge, just a small podcast. friendly podcast.

i wore comfortable clothes and hid my fatigue behind foundation and blush. i was okay with pretending like everything was fine.

it only broke my heart that people assumed "i am the happiest i've ever been". because people can only make assumptions. people only see the pictures. people only see the smiles, the kisses. or even the fatigue. but, "oh, everything is okay, she's got her man".

but what about Seuncheol?

people saw that he was stressed. people saw that he's probably not happy. people really had the audacity to say "i'm not good enough for him"!

like, fuck they know? they know nothing

and he never said anything. he never addressed those comments.

why?

because he believes that "what people say are bullshit"

but it sounded more like i'm not worth a small clarification.

i grabbed my keys and phone, closed my door and headed to the podcast set up.

everything was really friendly.

Alex, a familiar face of mine, would host the show.

i've happened to meet her before, at after-parties and gatherings, so we had talked before. everything was comfortable.

the podcast started shortly after and the talk was great. we also had a drink and a girls' talk that actually helped me take my mind off of my stress.

at one point, she turned to look at me when i sipped a little of my drink.

"so, um, i just.. i wanted to ask a few things, i know you don't really talk about your personal life, and that's why the questions are quite.. generic? you know.. of course, you can tell me to stop"

i felt some concern wash over me, as to what the consequences of this conversation could be. but i shrugged it off with a soft chuckle as i fixed my posture, leaning a little closer to the microphone.

"no, don't worry about it, shoot"

she smiled and read the notes of her phone, taking a quick sip of her drink as well.

''so, what is it like to be in a relationship?"

she looked at me with a small smile.

and all i could do was huff, trying to find an adequate answer.

i leaned back to the microphone.

"honestly? really hard"

Alex shot an eyebrow up in surprise.

"really? why, girl? is it hard for two great artists to live up to everyone's expectations?''

she chuckled and i just shook my head in thought.

i tried to put my thoughts in a row. it's hard to express everything i feel to someone after being so.. alone.

but i felt frustrated and fed up at the moment.

i fidgeted a little on my seat.

"i don't know.. it's not like there are no hardships in a relationship anyway.. it's just.. you can't find a way out of a hardship without communication, or respect. or understanding. there are many elements that have to balance out the hardships of a relationship, you know? at least that's how i view it"

i shrugged, my implication clear.

Alex caught my glimpse.

she nodded and looked at her phone shortly.

"that is really interesting, but everything can work out with love and patience"

i nodded, my smile a little bitter

"i guess.. i can't really tell you"

she tried to play it off with a small chuckle and i forced a smile

"i know you guys don't talk about your relationship, and privacy request is respected. but, not even posting moments on social media.. that's amazing. i actually admire that. it shows how strong your bond can be."

i chuckled, bitterness lingering on my laugh.

"not really. i wouldn't mind posting a picture or two. privacy is very much needed, but it's not like we have something to hide, or something to be so private about.. anyway, i really don't think it's that serious. but everyone has their own point of view."

she nodded, not wanting to pry on the matter, since she noticed my uneasiness.

she read of her notes again.

"does he inspire you to write?'

the question felt like a stab to the heart.

i couldn't say 'he used to'

and i couldn't say 'no' either

but i didn't want to lie.

i took a deep breath, trying to collect my words. i leaned on the microphone one more time.

"i don't really get inspired by real people.. mostly fictional characters, fictional situations.. nothing real. i used to find material from real life but.. i guess, my style changed"

i shrugged and forced a chuckle, trying to shake the feeling off.

Alex nodded and put a smile on her face.

"alright then, let's move on.."

i let out a breath i didn't even know i was holding. i took a sip of my drink, feeling quite relieved that we moved on from that topic.

the rest of the podcast went great, but i was tired and i couldn't wait for it to end.

as soon as we were done, i shook hands with Alex, she informed me about the slight editing she wanted to do, she thanked me and i thanked her back. she said that the episode would be out by the end of the week. i smiled and thanked her for having me. and i left.

i returned to my miserable apartment. the silence defeaning.

i hadn't seen Seungcheol in a week, but he didn't really seem to care.

i just left my shoes and coat next to the couch. i had lost my appetite completely.

i sat on the couch and took my phone in my hand.

i checked some of my messages and i saw Seungcheol's name among the notifications.

'Hey, is everything okay'

again.

not how I am. not if I am okay.

he really didn't give a damn about me.

i texted back a 'fine, no worries' and threw my phone at the end of the couch.

i started crying.

the only thing that comforted me was the sound of my own crying.

i hugged my arms around me and fell back on the couch. i was lost. i needed navigation. and he couldn't fucking give it to me.

[...]

Friday.

i headed back to my car after a long exhausting session at the studio. once i fastened my seatbelt, i grabbed my phone to check on some missed calls. a notification came in, saying that my podcast with Alex was out. i smiled excitedly, and turned it on to listen on my way back home. i texted her shortly and i threw my phone next to my driver's seat. i just concentrated on the road, the podcast being a pleasant background sound.

the drive back home was short, sadly. i just picked up my stuff, my phone still playing the podcast, as i walked back to my door.

i walked in, throwing my stuff on the couch, taking off my shoes and running to the kitchen, to grab some water.

when i walked in, i saw Seungcheol leaned against the counter, arms crossed on his chest, expression serious to mad.

my whole face went white when i saw him.

"fuck! you scared me.. what are you doing here?"

i was so shocked he was in my kitchen, probably more than i should, considering that he is my boyfriend.

he took a deep breath before i heard his voice.

"what the fuck? seriously. you're the one who's shocked here."

i looked around, confused by his words. i shrugged my shoulders.

"i guess.. i don't usually find you hiding in my house.. especially after not seeing you for a whole week.."

he scoffed. he didn't leave me any room for reaction.

"and you haven't even tried to reach out for a whole week.. but i guess, that's okay. relationships don't work without communication, like you said."

his words confused me even more.

i realized that what he quoted were my words on Alex's podcast. Now everything made sense.

i walked a little closer.

''are you seriously mad about this bullshit?''

his eyes widened

"bullshit? you say that calling me out is bullshit? telling EVEYONE how you feel, except from me, bullshit?''

my own eyes widened at his words

"what?"

his lips narrowed down, his madness more visible.

"what do you fucking mean with what? you literally let every fucking idiot know what's going on between us!"

he yelled

i looked at him in shock before processing to react with a scoff

"are you serious? what, how? by telling people that i'm having hardships in my relationship?"

he took a step closer

"you could have told me! me! not everyone! making everyone believe that we suffer!"

my head tilted in pure curiosity.

"which.. we don't?''

i asked, so simply.

he looked at me, his fingers running through his hair.

"that's not the point, the point is that you let everyone-"

i couldn't bear to listen so i yelled back

"i thought you didn't give a shit about what everyone thinks! you're such a hypocrite!"

he looked at me in shock

his eyes filled with disappointment.

"you literally implied that i don't love you."

my own eyes filled with anger and hurt.

"what do you fucking mean? you mean to tell me that i'm wrong? that everything is fine? that we don't fight every single time we try to talk? that we communicate just perfectly? that you don't ignore me? that you don't act like i am a stranger? no, i'm sorry, my mistake. you would touch a stranger, even if it was a fucking accident!"

he stayed there, in front of me, his face emotionless. he just heard what i said. or dogded my words, either way, he reacted the same.

"you implied that i don't fucking love you."

at this point, i felt helpless. fed up. rock-bottom. i just shook my head and let my tears slip from my eyes.

"Seungcheol, you don't love me. and i don't care. i have accepted it."

he cracked a hint of emotion, as he lightly flinched

"what are you even saying?"

i wiped my tears quickly.

"that you're a coward. that's what i'm saying."

he took a step closer, tilting his head confused.

"how am I a coward? you're the one who went and told everyone what we're going through! and you didn't even bother to tell ME something!"

i couldn't listen, i couldn't just stand there and listen.

I let out a cynical chuckle.

"and I thought you didn't even bother to watch my interviews.. guess i'm wrong"

I wiped my tears.

he seemed even more mad.

"of course I watch your stuff, but even if I didn't want to, everyone has been sending me this stupid podcast since it came out! everyone found a chance to make fun of me!"

i replied with the same anger.

"well, sorry, but you had to take a taste of your own medicine! do you even know what people say about us online?! do you? do you know what it's like to read that I'm not good enough for you, that I don't deserve you? do you even know how everyone fucking praises you, but all of them downgrade me? do you, Seungcheol? I've been living like this for the past 1 year and I never, ever complained to you about it. Because you always kept saying that YOU don't give a fuck about what people say! so fuck you, Cheol!"

my tears were running like a river at this point, but the mad expression on his face was driving me insane. his eyebrows relaxed a bit.

I made a move to leave, not wanting to have another fight. but, something I wouldn't expect, he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

i pulled my hand away.

"no! don't you fucking dare touch me now! I've had enough! enough! you hear me? you're so cheap! you're embarrassed that everyone knows about your relationship not working, but you don't even care enough to fix this mess! fucking coward.."

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before he grabbed my wrist again.

he pulled me closer.

"I'm not a coward! I'm just.. stressed! really fucking stressed! and I know that you don't care-"

I stopped him.

"i don't care? I don't care?! are you stupid?!"

he tightened his grip on my wrist.

"how do you care?! you care and you don't even call me for a week? you care, but you don't tell me what's bothering you? instead, you go and talk about our problems in a podcast?"

i took a deep breath and looked at him, trying to remain calm.

"do you understand that it's easier to talk to the wall than it is talking to you?"

he swallowed down my words.

"what the fuck, y/n?"

i let out a deep breath.

i was on the verge of a mental breakdown, feeling like this conversation is the repetition of pointless yelling and arguments that were better understood by a wall.

i just shook my head, my expression full of disappointment.

"Seungcheol, i can't do this anymore."

his expression softened and he let go of my wrist, pulling his own hand back hesitantly.

his voice almost scared.

"what do you mean?"

i sighed softly, not able to hold back anymore. it was now or never. and i, unlike him, was not a coward. it was time to finally do it.

"it's not working... it can't.. it can't work... between us.."

my expectations were simple. him getting sad and disappointed or him not even caring enough to have a reaction. i surely not expected him to get mad at me, like he did.

"and you call me a coward?"

i looked at him confused. i didn't even find the chance to talk before he interrupted me.

"you're telling me that it's easier to talk to a wall, you go all out about me in a podcast, you don't text, you don't call, you don't care. and now you're breaking up with me? so, you actually don't love me."

i heard his words carefully before rolling my eyes in frustration, my reaction getting him more mad and he threw his hands in the air.

"love is not enough to hold a whole relationship up, okay-"

he yelled back, interrupting me.

"bullshit! and you know it! i love you, and i don't care if you can't see it, i care that i feel it though!"

my eyes widened slightly in shock but i managed to yell back.

"why don't you touch me?! why do you ignore me?! what have i done to you, how can you say that you love me?!"

he looked at me, his eyes mirroring the same frustration as mine did. but there was something else. the frustration was not towards me, it was towards himself.

"I don't know! i don't know! i don't know..."

his voice softened at the last 'i don't know', and i remained silent since he seemed to have a lot more to say. he let out a small sigh.

"I've been really really really stressed. really stressed. we're on the verge of canceling a world tour, our manager keeps telling us that he wants to quit, and we've lost a lot of money because of a merch company that happened to be frauds."

my mouth opened in shock at his confession.

Seungcheol never told me about any of these.

i was trying to find a reaction but i couldn't find it. so he talked instead.

"and you breaking up with me is the cherry on top. i know that i can't defend myself, and i won't sound pathetic enough to beg you to stay. if you want to leave me, it's fine. for you. i can't tie you down anyway."

his voice came out small, weak, pathetic, like he was scared to be perceived.

i managed to get my voice out.

"why didn't you say anything?"

he looked into my eyes, dead serious as he quoted me.

"do you understand that it's easier to talk to the wall than it is talking to you?"

i clenched my jaw, feeling anger instead of sympathy building up. i hit his chest, without thinking much, but he didn't even flinch. his eyes simply pierced through me.

"you're not capable of even admitting that you need me? really? i hate you!"

i felt fed up with my own self, pathetic with how miserable i was and felt. i was sad. my whole life was sad. i built a whole career that seemed to be drowning me. and my words didn't even shake his poker face.

tears streamed down my face and i couldn't control my sobs. even if i sounded pathetic, at least i was honest to my feelings.

i knew i was the reason we couldn't communicate now that we found a chance, but i was feeling too depressed to even try it.

there had been many chances in the past, and since nothing worked, this wouldn't work either. i simply cried.

he looked down for a moment, the straight line of his lips unwavering. he took a deep breath, sighing softly through his nose. i put a few strands of my hair behind my ear, while my tears were falling down like a waterfall.

i wiped as many as i could.

i knew that nothing could shake or top the tension my three simple words just created.

or at least that's what i thought, before he grabbed my chin and he kissed me.

my crying eyes opened in shock, his hand holding my lips close as his other arm creeped around me, pulling me into his embrace. the shock wouldn't let me kiss back, and i felt like he used my vulnerability to his advantage.

i felt frustrated, confused, and i pulled my head back since he held me close by my waist, trapping my hands on his chest, the feeling both new and familiar.

"i said i hate you!"

"oh shut up.."

he simply replied before pulling me back into a kiss, a hundred times more passionate than the first one. it was the first time in months that he kissed me with so much emotion. i could feel it. i could feel that he meant it. his other arm wrapped around me as well and he held me close, months after our last hug. and his embrace was so warm and nostalgic. my mind drifted to the memories of our first dates and my lips started moving against his, by instict.

my hands gently tugged on his shirt, the tears in my eyes stopping.

i felt warm.

and i hadn't felt warm like this since forever.

he kissed me with so much meaning and passion, like i would disappear if he'd let go..

after a moment, his lips moved to my jawline, placing gentle kisses along the line of it towards the spot below my ear. he placed soft kisses on my neck and his hands moved up and down my back, touching me gently. re-exploring me.

opening old wounds.

my breath became a little heavier as my mind traveled with his touch. the feeling was so new, yet so familiar to me.

i wasn't sure of what to say, how to talk.

he touched me after god knows how long.

i heard his voice, his breath tingling my neck.

"i'm so stupid.."

he simply said, but i didn't have an answer. not an an argument. he placed soft kisses on my neck, his hands traveling down my body.

"i need you so bad.. i need all of you.. in my life, forever, and right now.."

he whispered, sending chills down my spine. i haven't heard him talk like that, probably never.

"i need you right now, i love you.. i love you so much.."

he kissed my lips, his words felt like heavy prayers.

i looked into his eyes, feeling the vulnerability reaching the ceiling.

he kissed my face gently, placing a strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek.

"you're the only tranquilizer i'll ever need.. i'm so sorry for never seeing it.."

he kissed my lips gently again.

i was so lost that words wouldn't even dare to come out my mouth.

but he didn't expect anything from me. he simply poured his heart out, like he hadn't done in months.

"i've been so stressed out and closed off that i didn't realize what i was doing to the only person that could help me."

his hands explored my body like he was searching for undiscovered spots.

my mouth formed a soft pout, my eyes glistening.

he pressed another soft kiss on my pout.

"baby, i'm sorry. i love you. and i'm a dick that doesn't deserve you. and i know it. i'll respect your choice to leave me."

he pressed a kiss on my cheek like a final goodbye and he softly unwrapped his arms from my body, but my hands grabbed them, almost like an instict, and i wrapped them around me again.

i kissed his lips a little more aggressively than expected by the both of us actually, and my hands cupped his cheeks. he kissed me back, without restraints.

my hands ran through his hair, softly tugging on his locks.

i broke the kiss for a breath and i talked.

"you're so stupid"

he nodded quickly, feeling breathless.

"yes, i am"

i kissed him again and i mumbled against his lips

"so stupid"

he moved his lips with more hunger as he repeated

"so so stupid"

i pulled back briefly, my chest carrying my heavy breaths, my fingers tracing the softness of his hair, his skin, leaving fire to their wake. my eyes locked in his.

i shook my head gently, processing the overwhelming emotion in my heart. i finally managed to express it.

"i love you, but you hurt me so bad"

i saw his face twisting with guilt. i knew he wasn't in a better position with all the stress he carried, but Seungcheol never meant harm. he was always a good guy. that doesn't justify his actions and i knew that, but i felt every crumb of love for him resurrecting, just because of his touch.

he spoke softly, his hands gripping on my skin.

"i'm so sorry.. i'm so so sorry.. i'll respect it if you want to leave me.."

i covered his mouth quickly, his eyes looking into mine with surpise. i sniffled softly before talking.

"i won't leave, you idiot"

he pulled my hand down, his expression more surprised and confused.

"but why?"

i sniffled again, a hint of smile that hasn't appeared on my face in months made its way on my lips.

"because i've made a mental promise to myself. i'm always by your side when you need me."

his expression turned into a melted one, his lips finding my cheek and leaving a couple of soft, loving kisses.

"i love you. i'm so sorry.''

he spoke softly, resting his forehead in mine.

i sighed softly through my nose, my emotions twirling inside of me like crazy.

"i love you too."

i added, and i closed my eyes.

he did the same.

at that time, everything felt a little more sure than usual. i clinged to that hint of hope he expressed through his words of affirmation.

my hand caressed his back softly.

why does every relationship have to go through a rough patch that leaves a part of you dead right after? you know it won't be the same. the only thing that gives you hope is the love inside you that can't die down. and i felt it, in his hug. i felt a little more sure.

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 7

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: intense conversation, I guess?

wc: 2.2k

Chapter Selection

“Jason, I swear to god - it's fine!” I giggled softly, unlocking the door. He just continued to glare suspiciously at a car parked on the street below. 

“I don't trust it… you said it's always there?”

“I said it's basically always there. It moves once in a while. I think they just don't drive much.” I held the door open, gesturing for him to come inside.

“... Hm. … I'm gonna check your doors and windows tonight.” He pushed through to the kitchen, setting his bag on the counter. I followed after him, unpacking the groceries.

“This is the fourth floor, and the building has a security door. Do you think someone's gonna break in through my window?”

“Yes.” A sharp, young voice behind us called out. I shrieked, and Jason grabbed the butcher's knife out of my knife block, throwing it into the living room.

When I turned the knife was implanted in the wall above the couch, and a very grumpy Damian Wayne was glaring up at us from his seat. “... You missed.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, demon brat?” Jason glared, walking over to retrieve the knife.

“Tt. I'd think you would be glad I've proven your point.” He trained his sharp eyes on me; “let Todd fix the security in your stupid apartment. If I can get in, who knows who or what else can?”

“... Fine, but only because that was seriously terrifying... Damian, right?” He nodded, staring at me. “... How'd you find my apartment?”

“Your address was included in Drake's background check of you.”

“... Ah.”

Jason frowned. “You still haven't said what you're doing here?”

“This is what families do, Todd. They spend time together, they introduce their girlfriends to their siblings, they eat dinner. Now what are we having?”

“Oh no, you are not staying for dinner!” Jason frowned. “Go home!”

I frowned a bit, watching the small boy. Something seemed wrong here. From what I knew, Damian didn't typically behave like a normal child; him coming here, claiming to want to spend time with his brother, seemed inconsistent with how Jay had described him. He wasn’t looking at either of our faces, looking instead just vaguely in our direction. His school uniform was disheveled, and his backpack was tucked by his feet like he was trying to hide it.

I gently touched Jason's arm, shaking my head when he looked at me. I gestured to the boy who was now glaring at my tv, flipping through my streaming recommendations in an obvious attempt to seem casual. “Jace, If he wants to stay for dinner, I don't mind.”

Jason stared at him for another minute before growling a bit. “.... Does B know where you are?”

“I am not an idiot, Todd.” Damian snapped.

“That sounds like a no to me.” I fished through my wallet for the card he'd left me with at the diner a few weeks prior. “You can stay, Damian, but I am going to tell him you're here. I don't want him thinking you're dead in a ditch somewhere, or kidnapped.”

The boy stared in my direction for a moment. “... Tt. … Do what you want.”

I turned to Jason and smiled softly. “Will you start on the sauce while I call?”

He nodded, kissing my forehead, and I took my cell phone onto the porch. The call was answered after the first ring.

“Hello, Mr. Wayne? This is-”

Once again he spoke my name before I had the chance to introduce myself. “I remember. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, sir. I just called to let you know, Damian invited himself over to see Jason. He's safe.”

After a long moment the man let out a deep breath. “... Good god, that boy is going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Thank you. I'll be there in 20-”

“Actually, sir, I don't think you should. … I know I don't know him very well yet, but he seems … off, from what Jason's told me about him. … I don't mind Damian being here; if something upset him and this is where he chose to go, it might be best to let him be for a while?”

“... I need to speak to him, please.”

“Yeah, one second.” I slid the door open and popped my head in. “Damian, your dad wants to talk to you.”

He frowned and slowly approached. He took the phone like he thought it would bite him, and I went inside to give him some privacy. I wrapped my arms around Jason's waist while he cooked, leaning into his back.

He tilted his head back a bit; “... You're allowed to tell him to go.”

“I know. But I'm not going to. Either he actually wants to spend time with his big brother, or something is wrong, and he didn't want to go home. In either case, I'm not going to make it harder for him to process whatever's brought him here.”

Jason thought for a moment before shifting to wrap an arm around me, kissing my forehead again. He whispered; “how’d you stay so good, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Gotham isn't a city for goodness. It eats its people up and spits out mangled husks of what we once were. It's dark, and rough, and cold. Gentleness is a luxury in Gotham, kindness is practically unheard of. … So how'd you stay so … warm?”

I looked up at him, unsure what to say to that. I knew he had a rough childhood, we'd talked a bit about our pasts, but this was something else. “... There are people in this city who fight every day to keep Gotham running. They stop the darkness from consuming us, so normal people like us can live normal lives. The least I can do is not invite darkness in, and maybe light a few candles once in a while. … Besides, in this particular case, he's your baby brother. Eventually getting to know the family is pretty typical girlfriend stuff, yeah? I'd like to be someone your family likes, at least well enough to not object to my presence in your life.”

He stared into the sauce, absentmindedly stirring. “.... How could anyone object to perfection?”

Just then, Damian gagged loudly behind us. “You're getting sappy in your old age, Todd.” Jesus, how did he move so quietly?? I didn't even hear the door open…

Jason rolled his eyes. “You're free to go if you don't like it, demon spawn.”

“No, no I'm fine.” Damian held my phone out to me, looking away awkwardly. I took it, chuckling softly.

“Alright, Dami, any homework?”

“Do not call me ‘Dami’. I am Damian.” He frowned. “And I finished my homework hours ago.”

I raised my hands to indicate surrender. “My apologies; Damian. Alright, no homework, so what do you want to do tonight? I've got some board games, or we can watch a movie?”

He looked me over, frowning a bit. “... you would be no challenge in a game. So we'll watch a movie.”

I chuckled softly and nodded. “Movie it is. … Do you have anything to change into?”

He frowned a bit and shook his head. “... The uniform is fine.”

“That can't be very comfortable though. … I bet I have a shirt you could wear. It'd be baggy on you, but you're welcome to it. Wanna take a look?” I offered him my hand and he eyed it disdainfully but did follow me to my room. I found him a t-shirt that didn't fit me anymore which he deemed ‘acceptable’ and I showed him to the bathroom to change.

Jason snorted softly when he saw the boy come out in the shirt and his under shorts - it covered him to his knees, and he looked so little; like a toddler dressed in their finger painting clothes. I smacked Jason's arm, helping him cook. “Go ahead and pick a movie, Damian. Dinner will be ready soon.”

The boy nodded slowly and took a seat on the couch, scrolling through the options. When everything was ready I brought over our bowls, sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him. Jason sat between us, staring at Damian.

We sat in silence for a while, only sort of watching the movie Damian had picked out. I could feel the small boy's eyes on us periodically, like he was watching for something. When we finished eating, Jason pulled my legs over his, resting a hand on my knee. I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around my thighs.

“... So, … how was school?”

Damian scoffed slightly. “... Fine.”

“Good, good. … Jay mentioned you're an artist.”

The boy frowned, pulling his legs in so his knees were against his chest. “... I guess.”

“That’s cool. I took a lot of art classes in school too. What's your favorite medium to work with?”

Over the next couple hours, Damian slowly opened up a bit. But every time I thought we were getting somewhere, and he might tell us why he came, he'd shut back down instead. Jason mostly just watched and listened to us; he had made some progress in the ‘talking about vulnerable topics' department, but it was obviously very different with family. After a while he cleared his throat;

“Damian, it's getting late. Shouldn't you be getting home?”

The boy frowned at him. “It's not that late, Todd.”

It was approaching 11pm, but it was a Friday. It occured to me, I had no idea what was an appropriate amount of staying up late for a kid of Damian's age... “... If your dad doesn't mind, you can spend the night. We can make a pillow fort!”

He tilted his head, a confused look on his face. “A pillow fort?”

I chuckled softly. “First text your dad, make sure he's ok with you spending the night.”

In an instant, his cell phone was in his hands. Jason sighed softly, fixing an amused, but slightly annoyed look on his face. “... So much for date night?”

I chuckled softly, gently squeezing his hand and kissing his fingers. “You've had me all to yourself for months, surely one night with family won't kill you?”

“Yeah, Todd. Don't be so insecure; share.” Damian smirked a bit.

He groaned softly, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. But this will not be a habit, demon child.”

Damian's phone lit up with a text. “... Father says it's ok with him.” 

I nodded. “Alright, let's make a pillow fort then!”

“... I should probably go home for a minute and get some clothes if we're doing this.” Jason frowned a bit.

I nodded, smiling brightly. “Sounds like a plan! We'll be here.”

He nodded once and leaned in to kiss my cheek. Damian stared at us, a thoughtful little frown on his face, and Jay turned on him; “be. Nice.”

“Oh, calm down, honey. He's not going to bite me.” I stroked his shoulder gently. They stared each other down for a minute before Jason pulled his shoes on and headed out. “Alright Damian; you get the couch blankets from that cabinet, and I'll pull some stuff off my bed.”

We got to work, making a fort big enough for all three of us to sleep in the living room. After several minutes, Damian looked over at me.  “... You like Todd?”

I chuckled softly; “yes, very much.”

“... He's broken, you know. Not good enough for you.”

“... Everyone is broken in some way, Damian. No one is perfect, the world doesn't let us be. Love isn't about being perfect, it's about looking at someone and saying ‘I choose you, I want to stand beside you even when it's hard'. It's about approaching complications as ‘us versus the problem’, and accepting each other's weirdnesses.”

I smiled softly, looking over at him. Damian was holding a pillow, frowning deeply at it. “... Even if he hurts you?”

“Do you think he's going to?”

“... He could.”

“So could a dedicated duck. He's not special in that regard.” The boy smirked at that. “And what's more, I could hurt him too. We just have to trust each other. To have each other's best interests at heart, to not want to hurt the other. And I do, I trust that he's a good man.”

“... Even if he used to do really bad things?” He whispered, still staring at the floor. Something told me we weren't talking about Jason anymore. Not exclusively, at least…

“... People do bad things for lots of reasons. If Jason told me he did something bad, I would at least hear him out; I'd want to know why he did it, what else was happening, did he think it was good at the time? Does he regret it, would he do it again? There are so many questions to ask before passing judgment. … Doing something bad does not make you a bad person, Damian. Sometimes there are only bad options, and we have to pick the one we think we can live with. … Sometimes kids end up in bad situations, and have to do bad things to survive. That isn't the kid's fault, that is the fault of the adults who were meant to protect them. It does not mean those kids become unlovable adults.”

He didn't look up for a long time, but when he finally did he refused to look in my direction at all. We finished building the pillow fort in silence.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a 

[kleine-joost]

Joost Dating Headcanons

a/n: who tf am i updating daily?? idk where this motivation has come from lmao

WARNINGS: there's some general smutty headcanons at the end, i'd appreciate no minors interact thanks xxx

SFW HEADCANONS

- Ok so first off, I’m so so so convinced that this man is absolutely the clingiest person EVER. Like anything you’re doing, he’ll happily join you, he asks you to travel with him., Basically everything either of you do will become a two-man job

- The only thing he’s tentative about with your relationship would be the overall publicness of it. The real fans (😎😎😎) have spotted you a couple times in photos and videos in the background of things and kind of just speculated, but mostly you’re unknown.

- But in private and with friends and stuff? Hangs on you all the time, bringing you into conversations he’s in so you can add more details to his stories.

- Also I have this picture in my head, like say you had to work late or you went out with some friends and he didn’t go, when you get home, you find him in bed, duvet up to his chin and just waiting for you to get home so you can tell him everything and you can go to sleep together

- He’s not a huge movie buff, but he’ll watch whatever you want because he just loves seeing you enjoy things, seeing you happy. Even if he’s not the direct cause of it, he likes to just be there for you

- And another thing, I think he’s probably really forgetful. So if you aren’t, I like the idea of leaving little sticky notes around to remind him of things like meetings, or even just to drink water

- So supportive too. He is your biggest cheerleader in everything you do, and always knows how to comfort you if you’re down

- I imagine you also being super supportive of him, like you’re always the first person he shows a new song to, and he genuinely favours your opinion on things and will fight Tantu to change things you think could be changed

- Big flower vibes. He loves buying you flowers, even when there’s no special occasion. Just because he thought they were pretty.

- I also think he would LOVE to do like coordinating outfits and stuff

- Just a stylish couple in general

- And if like your collar isn’t sitting right or something, he’d fixed it straight away

- On a similar note, he loves when your shoelaces become untied because it's his favourite thing to just do whatever he can for you

- He’s tried to cook you dinner a total of about 3 times, all of them resulting in an inedible meal. But it’s the thought that counts

- And when you’re out eating dinner somewhere, he’ll always beg for a bite of your food in exchange for a bite of his, because “your’s just looks so good, liefde”

- I also think he’s one of those boyfriends that’ll just walk up to you and start shadow boxing at you for funsies, complete with fake huffs of effort, until it eventually just evolves into who can hold each others’ arms down for the longest time (spoiler, he wins most of the time cause he just wraps his arms around your shoulders so you can’t move)

- Going back to the travelling thing, I like the idea that if you’re not able to go with him, he always buys you some kind of souvenir like a fridge magnet or like socks or something so you feel like you were there

- And so he feels like you’re with him, he always carries a picture of you with him in his wallet bc cute

NSFW HEADCANONS

- Guess what kind of picture it is teeheehee

- I can’t decide between just a picture of your tits or one that he took while yall were fucking and you didn’t even notice that he had his phone out and was taking a photo of your face all scrunched together in pleasure

- Boy would that have been an interesting day at wherever he got it printed

- ALSO travelling means….you guessed it! Phone and FaceTime sex!!

- Most of the time it doesn’t even start out sexy, you’re just telling each other about your days

- But Joost misses you so much, he can’t help get turned on even by just the sound of your voice

- He tries to be quiet but let’s get real, that man WHINES and WHIMPERS so even when he’s trying to hold it in as he’s palming himself through his jeans, you know what’s up

- “Baby?” He hums in response. “Are you touching yourself?” “...Maybe”

- And it just devolves from there

- Omg and REUNION SEX? Don’t even get me started

- ok do get me started, the SECOND he’s home it is shoes off, clothes off, carrying you to the bedroom

- It would be a perfect mix of tender and filthy

- He missed you and wants to tell you that, but he’s also just so pent up. He needs to get all his energy out

- When he gets horny, there’s nothing he won’t do get at you

- Like when he can’t sleep at night and he’s just really bored, wakes you up and eats you out

- Walks in on you in the shower, he’s getting in

- You guys go shopping and he’s watching you try on clothes, you have to tear him off of you

- You get my point.

- I think he’s an everywhere kind of guy

- Everything, Everywhere, All At Once lol

- Definitely pulled you into a club bathroom stall on more than one occasion

- Oh and one more thing, underwear goblin. After any time you guys fuck, there’s at least a 60% chance he’ll steal your panties as a memento.

[tihgnari]

ꕤ 53. keep things lowkey (ღ)

tw: none / wc: 1.3k

only when ayato reached across the limousine's rear cup holder to interlace his fingers with yours did you realize you've been practicing yet again a bad habit of yours — your nervousness manifesting by how you pick at your nails.

ayato chuckles, glancing at you. "love, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. i'll be there with you at all times, i promise — i just hope you don't get bored over business talk, if you do, well… i'd like to apologize in advance."

"it's just…" you mutter under your breath, looking out the window. "other than this is going to be my first gala, you're this important person, and i'm just nervous i might do something to embarrass you."

he squeezes your hand, urging you to look at him. "are you kidding? you? embarrass me? have you met yourself?"

you laugh, blushing at the eye contact. crazy how he can still erupt such butterflies in your stomach when a year has already passed of being together. you knew what you were getting yourself into, so ayato finally breaking the news to the public weeks ago was something that didn't faze you at all. however, today's the day you see if you'll truly fit into his world.

you bring his hand to your lips.

"just afraid of not fitting in."

the light turns green, and the car makes its final left turn and you immediately see the backs of the paparazzi grouped before a red carpet, in front of the monumental architecture of today's venue, leeum museum of art. you already imagine yourself standing before them, the flash of the cameras burning your retinas as you stand with your arm looped around ayato's.

this is it. this is the life you accepted when ayato finally asked you to become his. while he offered that you need not make appearances if it doesn't suit your comfort, you disagreed and said you were willing to go through the criticizing eyes of the public if it meant you can show up for him loudly and proudly.

but of course… first day jitters are a thing.

ayato pulls up but before he opens the doors, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

"just be yourself, my love. i love you because of who you are and i am every bit confident they will love you just the same. if there's some who thinks otherwise, well…" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling his sweetest smile. "you memorize their face, what they're wearing, and you tell me. no one disrespects you in my gala."

—

the night was running smoothly thus far, exchanging numerous handshakes with business owners who approached ayato. when some do not, you notice the way ayato's brow would raise before introducing you properly as his lover, only then did their eyes land on you and promptly offer a handshake, muttering a few apologies for not noticing you.

your boyfriend huffs, as you fix his tie in the side, eyeing the last man who initially didn't bother to greet you. "where are the manners of some of these people? they should know how to address a lady when they see one."

"my love, please… let it go, it's okay he still greeted me anyway!"

"only because i introduced you," he shakes his hand. "you are not some eye candy dangling off my arm! they can't ignore you. you deserve to be addressed just as properly as they address me."

you click your tongue playfully, cupping his face and softly urging him to look at you. his hardened gaze softens when he meets your eyes. for a moment, you don't say anything, and you visibly see the tension ease off his shoulders. he turns his head to nose at the palm of your hand, offering a light kiss.

"okay, i'm calm."

"thank you."

the dj increases the volume of the music just as she changed it from light house music to a more romantic one, perfect for a dance. the lights dimmed, people standing to the side as a circle forms, men and women alike already asking their wives or lovers to dance.

ayato steps back with a flare before bowing to you, offering his hand. "my lady, would you be so kind as to allow this lowly gentleman to grace the dance floor with you?"

you laugh, before casually starting to play along. "but of course, i shall dance with thee!"

he pulls you along, his hand tucked in the small of your back as you slow dance and suddenly it's just the two of you in an empty museum. "so…" he trails, a hint of a contented smile on his. "how was your first gala, my love?"

"well… i guess it was everything that i expected?" you laugh. "the crowd, the business talk, champagne… now i'm feeling kinda stupid i was nervous to begin with, everyone has been nothing but lovely."

ayato pulls you closer, burying his nose in your hair. "well, i am a good judge of character — minus the few who initially ignored you when they spoke to me," you pulled away, narrowing your eyes at him as he laughed and shook his head, moving on quickly. "okaaaay, i was just kidding… maybe. but i'm glad everything went smoothly, my love."

a moment of silence dawns on you both as you find a comfortable nook on his neck, him resting his cheek against your hair as he secures his hold around your waist, feeling so comfortable and at peace in each other's arms as you both sway to the music.

"can't believe we've come this far," he mutters. "who would've thought the girl drinking gin at kappa sig is the one for me."

"wait a minute," you pull away, looking at him with eyes wide in shock. "you knew it was me?"

"of course, i'm not the type to forget things when i get drunk," he laughs, amused by the face you're making. "i was a little hurt when you pretended not to recognize me at my apartment, but i gave it some thought and realized how the hell we would've explained to ayaka how we met? so i just went with it."

you shrug, burying your face in his neck in shame. "this is embarrassing, i thought you didn't know it was me — ugh, what the hell — i'm sorry i said all those stuff before pressuring you to kiss me —"

you feel the vibrations in his shoulders. "love, what? you didn't kiss me."

your shame hits the pause button and you look up at him questioningly. "what? we didn't kiss?"

"no, of course not! you were drunk, you wouldn't be in the right state of mind to give your consent… even though you told me i didn't look like i was 'kamisato material' and assuming that i was a bad kisser…"

"don't even —!"

he laughs, loud enough that a few couples dancing turned their heads and you hit his shoulder. when his laugh mellows and he looks at you, he mutters. "you know, i wouldn't change a thing in our storyline. sure, we hit rock bottom a few times, but it's our story."

you don't know why when you look him in the eyes, it feels like seeing him for the first time — free of any restraints from third parties asking you both not to be together.

you crack a small smile. "i'm not proud of the things i did to you but i am beyond thankful that even then, even after everything — we're here, together. makes me think 'maybe we were meant to be' you know?"

"i think so, too." ayato mirrors your smile. "i'm glad you don't have to keep your feelings all… lowkey, anymore. i see how loudly you love me, and it's all i ever wanted."

you laugh, sneaking a kiss on his lips.

"never wanted to keep things lowkey, anyway."

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

note — aaaand thats a wrap! if you made it this far, ur an awesome hooman being hehe thank you so much for reading! <3

[zarkishere]

RDR2 RELATIONSHIP CHART!

free to use, just credit me if you do :) (also tag me if you use it for rdr2 oc's i'd love that hehe)

Young Jack ver ⤴��

Old Jack ver ⤵️

notes cuz i love overthinking shit :

EVERYONE except Micah, Sadie and Kieran have both little hair thingies

for Micah it's cuz....yknow. he's not really part. he's the rat. doesn't even have one of the two.

For Sadie and Kieran they have 1 since they are part of the gang, they just happened to join later

I changed some people's design a little bit but it's minor changes that don't mean much just me fixing up stuff

Molly and Grimshaw's eye-makeup-thingies are the same (cuz yknow. Dutch.) Molly's hair doesn't naturally do the Little Hair Thing, she has to do it every morning, hence why it's...oddly curly (this time not because she's not part of the gang, but because she feels the need to have it. maybe Dutch will love her if she does. if she's like the rest.)

I decided to make older Jack have a few things from other characters who are theorized to be his dad (lol. i don't believe those theories just for the record, i think Jack is John's kid, i just like stirring the pot HJKASJKHASGASG)

Jenny is like that cuz we never see her apart from a drawing, so i thought i should make her all sketchy and silly

Mac is. a fucking square. we never see that mf.

Karen has 3 freckles instead of 3 cuz she's quirky and not like the other girls (no but fr)

i tried to keep it right side people who would agree most with Dutch after Dutch...? if that makes sense? so yknow Micah is first, then Bill, etc. from the left side is the people who agreed the most with Arthur/John...so Hosea, Charles, lenny, etc.

Arthur facing John, Hosea facing Dutch, Charles facing Micah is on purpose teehee (Kieran is also kinda facing Mary-Beth but you can call bullshit and i'll accept it)

Jack is the only boyo between the women cuz he stands with his momma

i thought Arthur and John's hat bonking was p funny

idk what else to say, i've probably forgoren a lot but idc so...

these designs are 100% not perfect but i am p satisfied with most overall, lemme know what you think!

also....

i don't have any fucking clue why person's eyes are the only ones like that please someone fix him whats wrong with him help get him eye contacts or something PLEASE--

[galedekarios]

gale as a professor at blackstaff academy

i have to say that at first i wasn't too sold on the (then still fanon) idea of a professor ending because of gale's own prior anecdote about being irked by his previous students and their inadequacies.

i thought it might not be a good fit for him as far as professions go.

but reading the epilogue files, i have come around on it.

i think it's just one more way in which he's really grown into himself, become content with who he was in the past, the mistakes he made and what he has learned from them, and the person he wants to be in the future:

Player: You? A teacher? I'd hardly say you set the best example for impressionable young wizards... Gale: I think it makes perfect sense. devnote: Surprised you wouldn't recognise this, a tiny bit offended you don't trust him to do this Gale: Who better to warn of the perils of misusing magic than someone who was once only a wayward sneeze away from destroying a mid-sized settlement? devnote: playing up to his past a bit, you can imagine this is how he acts with his students Tara the Tressym: Don't remind me of those terrible times, Mr Dekarios. My blood pressure has only just recovered.

a few more cute banters & things we learn about gale and his new teaching position:

tara swipes at students who fall asleep in gale's classes, which he himself doesn't mind. he, too, slept through some of them (like his calishite lessons):

Player: Perhaps that's a good thing. I'm sure they're far better students than I was... Gale: Ah, so you still remember our little lesson? devnote: A little bit bashful, it was a vulnerable moment for him Gale: 'Teaching' you was hardly an effort at all. Not like my present cohort of apprentices. devnote: Complimentary, pulling the thought back to the teaching element after getting lost in the memory of the moment Gale: They try their best, of course - when they can manage to stay awake. devnote: Not upset by this - he slept through his fair share of classes as a student Tara the Tressym: The cheek of them! Nothing a well-placed swipe from Tara can't fix, though.

2. gale offered to teach more subjects than illusion via simulacra:

Player: Only a professor? With your expertise, I'd have thought you could teach every kind of magic going... Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact. devnote: Secretly glad the player thinks so highly of him Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn't teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose. devnote: Reluctantly accepts that this was the right decision Gale: So, I've settled for teaching the art of illusion. Magic to confound the senses, to render the impossible into reality, and to allow expression of that most magical attribute of all - imagination. devnote: Selling it a bit - he wants to make sure you appreciate how cool this is

3. gale has told his students about the player's adventures and will invite a player to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you. Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower- Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

4. his students find him somewhat intimidating due to his backstory with mystra and the orb:

Gale: Well, that was quite lovely. I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am you. Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful to just be 'Gale' for the evening. Gale: I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. devnote: He plays up to his reputations a bit, so he isn't overly surprised Gale: Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. Gale: I surrendered the Crown of Karsus to her, as I told you I would. And in return, she cured me of the orb at last. Gale: Even now, I struggle to put the feeling into words. It was like exhaling for the first time, after holding my breath for so very long. Gale: Of course, I haven't clarified with my students that the orb is no longer a threat. The legend of my explosive capabilities is an excellent means of controlling a classroom. Too good, if anything.

5. he wants to teach his students that there is fun in studying magic:

Gale: I spend most of my time trying to convince them how much fun the study of magic can be, but it'd be easier to crack a smile on an intellect devourer than some of my pupils... devnote: Despairing a little, doesn't understand why they aren't all as passionate as he was Player: Or on a mind flayer, perhaps... Gale: Smiling may no longer come easy to you, but I've seen how your tentacles twitch at my jokes. Even the ones I'm not entirely certain I was trying to make... devnote: Last sentence a tiny bit self-conscious, aware that people sometimes find him ridiculous. Gale: Still, I hoped my students might be a little more open to the playful side of such magic.

anyhow, i hope this was insightful to someone! 🖤