#I'm really happy with how this one came out too!

[gothicfied]

can you write a squid game fic or head cannons of other characters finding out the reader is struggling with self harm? If so, thank you and I understand it is a sensitive topics and may be uncomfortable to write.

Squid Game season 2 characters x reader who struggles with sh

Featuring: Thanos / Player 230, Se-mi / Player 380, Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Park Min-su / Player 125, Kim Jun-hee / Player 222

(Trigger) Warnings: Mention/Talk about sh, depression, and things of this nature, this is comfort/angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Summary: Basically what the ask says

A/N: hey! I hope this is what you imagined, sorry if some of these are ooc😞🙏

Thanos / Player 230

જ⁀➴ Before he really knew, he'd constantly make your life a living hell, basically making fun of your shyness. He'd make certain comments to which he knew you wouldn't react to or would try to persuade you to vote in favor of the game containing.

જ⁀➴ You'd constantly tell him off and to leave you alone. It didn't really help, though. Thanos would just sit down next to you and talk your ear off about what he wanted to do with that prize money.

જ⁀➴ When you stood up to leave, rollung your eyes at him, he grabbed you by your wrist.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thanos blurted out, giving you an offended glare. "You know, it's really rude to just leave a conversation like that." When you tried to get out of his grip, your sleeves rode up your arm, revealing scars you weren't proud of or wanted him to see. When you realized it, he did too, immediately letting go of you.

જ⁀➴ Since Thanos knew what it meant to struggle with mental health he did actually leave you alone for now. But, after the next game, he approached you again and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry about yesterday." he said, patting you on the back.

જ⁀➴ He related to you in a way, but didn't want to ask you about what went on in your private life. Now you just appreciated that he seemingly didn't overstep any boundaries anymore and even checked up from you every now and then.

Se-mi / Player 380

જ⁀➴ You and her had been a duo ever since she came up to you and complimented your looks. Even if you denied it or not, she'd repeat it multiple times, winning you over with her charm quickly.

જ⁀➴ You two had the same mindset on a lot of things, originally voting 'O', thinking you were able to survive one more lousy game. That game was a death scare. Nothing about it was funny anymore. You appreciated your life too much these days to die like this.

જ⁀➴ When the second favor didn't go your way, both Se-mi and you now voting 'X', you felt helpless. One night, the two of you were sitting on her bed, just talking about your past and how you got to this point in the first place. While Se-mi was more secluded, only telling you that 'there are so much worse things she had to face when she got out' you trusted her enough to tell her about a sensitive time in your life.

"I'm not really secretive about this anymore," you pushed your sleeves up, revealing faded scars along your forearm, "but yeah. It was all pretty fucked up. The whole debt thing didn't make it any better." Se-mi looked at you with raised eyebrows, her fingers tracing the lines on your wrists. "I knew you were strong. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."

જ⁀➴ She put in double the work to protect you — She just wanted you to start a better life with that money and be happy, free from debt and all of it.

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju noticed from the start that you were more secluded, more prone to cry, panicked easily. It was clear to her that you were struggling with this situation, perhaps even more than that. She made it her task to help you as much as she could, comfort you and keep you close to her and her group.

જ⁀➴ You'd often rant to her and tell her what bothered you after she reassured her she'd take care of anything possible. Hyun-ju was the anker you needed in this shithole and you just appreciated her very much. Everything she did seemed to be out of genuine interest and not just to gain your trust and abuse it.

જ⁀➴ Accidentally, Hyun-ju did catch a glimpse of the scars you were so desperate to hide. She didn't mention it, feeling like it wasn't her place to comment on it. Her heart did break for you, though.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she made sure to speak softer to you and distract you from all the horror around you.

Hyun-ju hugged you tightly against her chest, her arms engulfing your figure. "Tonight things could get a bit scary," she mumbled into your hair while she rested her face against your head, "I just want you to know now rather than find out later. I'll keep you safe, you know that." You just nodded, reciprocating the hug after a few moments.

Nam-gyu / Player 124

જ⁀➴ When he found out, as you didn't make the effort to hide them or anything, he did refrain from provoking you in any way. Nam-gyu related, as he considered his drug use not to be the best thing he could do to his body.

જ⁀➴ Both of you hung around in the same group, since Thanos really wanted you on his team, constantly giving you compliments and flirting with you. It annoyed him to a degree, scoffing everytime Thanos tried to talk to him about how pretty you were, how much he wanted you, give you the world. In Nam-gyu's opinion, he didn't get you.. didn't get what you went through, at all.

જ⁀➴ One evening before lights out, the two of you were teasing each other about something and laughed together — something that rarely occured amongst the other players.

"Want me to show you something?" Nam-gyu asked you, leaning a bit closer. Chuckling, you replied with a 'mhm' and watched him pull up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing skin tracks along the inside of his elbow. You raised an eyebrow: "Oh?" You took his arm to get a closer look, tracing his skin with your fingertips. "Well, we all have our stories, huh?" The man nodded at your wrists, making you look at them too, like you didn't already know what he meant.

જ⁀➴ The both of you grew close to each other, much to his amuse. He was a junkie, you were depressed.. it's like a disaster in the making. But, you didn't care. He was sweet and weirdly kind to you — Not in the way Thanos was. You made sure to hug Nam-gyu a few times more after that, in case it could be the last timd you'd get to do that.

Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

જ⁀➴ You were glad to be on Gi-hun's team from the start, since Dae-ho and you got along really well. As a former Marine, which he was super proud of obviously, he declared he'd protect you immediately after you met, making you laugh.

જ⁀➴ He was kind, strong and funny, but maybe a bit oblivious at times.

During the six-legged pentathlon, you two sat next to each other, cheering the current active team on. Yelling and screaming filled the area as they crossed the finish lind just in time, making everyone erupt in cheers. Dae-ho immediately hugged you with joy, excited to see the five live another day, at least. After pulling back witha laugh, you gave him a small high five with your sleeve rolled back. When noticing scars along your wrist and forearm, the former marine gasped pretty loudly. "What?" you asked with genuine concerning, fearing something was wrong with you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dae-ho pulled your sleeve back over your arm. "Dude," he looked at you with wide eyes "it's fine." You needed to hold back a laugh.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho felt so bad to havs accidentally seen something you've been struggling with, that he couldn't help but apologize profusely. You repeated to him that it wasn't a big deal for you and that you were working on this problem, but he didn't stop nonetheless.

જ⁀➴ You thought it was cute how much he seemed to care for you and how often he came up to you just to tell you that he appreciated you. And Dae-ho did, he didn't just say that to make you feel better.

Park Min-su / Player 125

જ⁀➴ Min-su is just shy over all. When he noticed it, he wouldn't say a thing. He'd be dead silent, maybe even a bit scared to talk to you. He was just scared he'd make it awkward, somehow hinting that he knew about your scars. Min-su was just someone who overthought a lot and even you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ After a bit, it annoyed you — The sudden lack of his presence next to you, the fact that he wouldn't properly talk to you anymore, it was all just weird and confusing. So, you decided to ask him directly.

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice wasn't stern, but Min-su could tell that you were kind of upset. "Ah, no-" he quickly replied back, shaking his head, "it's really not you!" He looked at you with his typical innocent face, making it hard for you to keep pressing him about this matter. "Then what is it, seriously?"

જ⁀➴ He explained what he saw and said that he just felt so sorry. Well, at least he didn't speak to you because he didn't want to hurt or upset you, which was really thoughtful.

જ⁀➴ You'd expect that he would now be the one to comfort you or something, but no it was the complete opposite. Min-su seemed to worried about you and kept asking you how you were feeling or if anything bothered you. You had to keep reassuring him that those times were in the past and that he didn't have to be so worried.

જ⁀➴ It was really cute though, so you let it slide.

Kim Jun-hee / Player 222 (implied fem!reader)

જ⁀➴ Since Jun-hee and you were pretty close in age, you two had found each other right away. You kept telling her that she needed more protection, or at least an ally like you, on her side sincs she was pregnant. You weren't really serious about that, just chuckling when bringing it up, but ut definitely made Jun-hee trust you a lot more. It was a critical situation she was in and she was glad to have you by her side.

જ⁀➴ You even banged on the door in the middle of the night to make the guards take her to the bathroom when she was to shy to do it herself.

As ths pink guard brought you to the womens bathroom, Jun-hee held onto you, clearly being in pain. A few minutes later, you were washing your hands and tried to fix yourself up, looking a bit disgusted in the mirror. "What is it?" Jun-hee emerged from one of the stalls, chuckling. "Man, I look like a damn zombie. Look what this place has done to us." Instead of getting a reply, you noticed that she was staring at your arms, at your scars. You had taken your jacket off for convenience and kind of forgot about them. "Oh, I'm sor-" Jun-hee interrupted you, "No! No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stared like that!"

જ⁀➴ Obviously everyone had their struggles, but now her own kind of seemed insignificant next to yours. You were doing so much for her and she didn't even know that you were struggling. She should've thought of that.

જ⁀➴ When voicing that thought to you, you felt bad that you made her feel like that. With a hug, it was all sorted out. Jun-hee cared deeply for you and she could tell that you cared for her like that, too. It was nice to know that someone had your back in a place like this.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"True. Rodan is one of the best. He's always looking out for the ones that always seems to be scared...but he knows their brave at heart." Her eyes looks to the plush but she was seeing more fire flies flying around that some came up to fly around the two.

Miko saw him pat the old Rodan plushie then remembers to nod. "I see......he gave me one when I was little. He said even if I was nervous, I shouldn't be. Even saying it would keep the scary monsters I could see away." she smiled to look. "Even if yours helped keep you safe..." she laughed.

"Wait…Miko. I do remember seeing a girl at his side holding the same exact plushie like that." He asked. "Was that one at the cavern with Rodan?" He asked her.

"Hmm? Well, yes. It seems like it...though..." she examines it before she blinks seeing something. Their was a hole in the back but she saw something sticking out. "......"

The cavern. The same cavern. Then...

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

"You two seem to be really scared today. You know it's alright so please don't cry my little Rockstars. How about being friends?" Rodan smiled at the little girl and boy. Little Miko was sniffling while holding the same plush but she blinks to sit up rubbing her eyes.

She did look over seeing the boy. Brown hair, with pink like eyes. Even seeing some red bang in his hair. Glasses as well while holding another Rodan plush.

"......"

"It's alright..." Rodan said this that little Miko sniffs to look at him and gently sits by him hugging hers. "H..Hi.....Ummm.....I'm sorry your scared b..but...Rodan always s..said you shouldn't be scared. The bad things shouldn't scare you..." she mutters to the boy but she looks seeing the scary bullies to hug her own Rodan plush. She was scared too but she only looks to the boy before gently reaching to hold his hand. She even shows a Rodan charm in her little hand.

She even sees him look but looks to her. "It's o...okay....m..maybe we can help each other from being scared...we c..can be friends.." she looks to him even if she was having tears she was okay seeing Rodan happy they made friends.

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

"....." Miko's eyes widen but she looks to the Rodan plush then slowly reaches to pull out a Rodan charm bracelet. ".......It's still here......I thought this was lost.." she mutters softly.

"You know...that reminds me of something. Rodan also taken me down here too." Kisho blinks, realizing this as he walks to the middle.

He also mentioned this spot to me where kids need a break from all the action. It made me feel safe and I also remember those two giant Rodan plushies for me to sit against and hold. Rodan feels warm despite being animatronic." He tells him.

"So he's told you that too? I do remember that is the case. Given he's helped so many kids trying to show them it's alright to be scared. You were safe.." she said looking down but the fire flies were still nice.

He sees the firefly go down the hidden passageway. "Or maybe it's a secret place for the animatronics to stay safe and take a break." He tells Miko. He smiles.

"True......" she mutters and yet, she looks down seeing the opening before hugging the old Rodan doll.

"I still remember....even though it's a bit fuzzy.." she mutters to smile looking down. "I remember....I was brought her as a little girl...but..I held this same plushie. He told me, you were not alone..and....I remember he brought someone else....another kid..but a boy.." she mutters running her fingers against the plushie's cheek. He was scared too like I was......but...Rodan kept us both close while looking down seeing the water and fire flies..." she said remembering he held her on the left but the boy was on the right.

"Though..the boy...he was crying....but I could hear his cries....."

[everestgale]

You're lucky. What I would give to be able to forget—

[Drawing and design notes under the cut]

*cackles* Turns out, even putting just Hero through Moment of Clarity wasn't enough for Everest, they needed to make all of their voices suffer :]

This drawing was a very funny one because it just kept evolving until it got to what you see now! It was supposed to be a quick doodle where I send my human Hero to MoC... but then I wanted to add the other voices and give this drawing some nice lineart... and then I wanted to add flat colors to make sure each character is distinct from one another... and then I added light shading—

Despite how much it grew out of my control, and despite how much trouble it gave me composition and concept-wise, I'm quite happy with the final result. I'm glad I could at least play around and make some concepts for how my voices would change during the Moment of Clarity. Some were definitely on the simpler side, but others had quite a few neat details! If you're curious to read my thoughts on that, well, there we go!

Stubborn: definitely one of the simpler ones, though both of his Adversary-borrowed horns are snapped, almost symbolizing his usual will to fight depleting almost completely. He also has a bunch of bruise/dust marks all over him, as though he just came out of a fight.

Broken: I went with the obvious one and gave him a bunch of cracks for how shattered he is. But I also made his ears longer (which is the case for all of my voices that have "loose"/hair-like feathers - which are Hero, Smitten, and Broken)... and also he has a suspicious scar on his neck—

Cold: he is the voice that has the least "damage" on him, only really having some missing/messy bang feathers. He does, however, seem even colder than usual, insisting that all other voices are too soft, and they need to be numb and unfeeling... what's a better way to represent that than to literally have him covered in light icy texture?

Paranoid: my poor Paranoid always, always wears gloves when he can, it's a headcanon of mine that he feels extremely uncomfortable and anxious without them. And, uh, he is not wearing any in this drawing. Also just like the Hero in this and previous MoC drawings, he does not have any claws on his hands. His claws are gone :]

Skeptic: he was a difficult one for sure, I couldn't quite figure out how to represent his damage and distress. I ended up breaking a link on his neck shackle (which is barely noticeable), breaking his spiky collar feathers (which is barely noticeable), and adding a light "unraveling" texture (which is, again, barely noticeable). He does look very uncertain and confused, though, so at least I got that right!

Smitten: Smitten borrowed some of the elements from his HEA design, mainly the straightened hair and fallen-out curls. But to differentiate between the two designs, I also added a crack along the center of Smitten's face, like the one you might see on a broken heart :]

Opportunist: Opportunist actually doesn't seem to be doing too horribly during MoC (at least if you compare him to some of the other voices), which is why his design isn't as damaged as some of the other ones. He is tattered and messy, sure, but not completely destroyed like some of the other voices, though I did make sure to give him a very wide-eyed... half-scared, half-empathetic expression, I guess.

Hunted: while his quote "Kill or be killed" was taken out during one of the updates, I really wanted to include it in the drawing because I think it characterizes Hunted during this route very well. That's why his primary damage is blood splatters, from numerous and numerous and numerous deaths.

Cheated: he was fairly simple to do because his default design is already cut up and stitched together. All I needed to do was to add a few more gaping wounds and unravel his stitches. That's why his right ear is missing, too!

Contrarian: similar to Cheated, Contrarian also just got a feature of his regular design—cracks—greatly exaggerated. Contrarian really didn't seem to be doing well during MoC, which is why I went all out on his cracks. Couldn't let him open his eyes, or drop his "smiley" expression completely, but you hopefully can tell that he is barely hanging in there.

Hero: oh, Hero, my sweet, sweet boy Hero. I already talked about his MoC design in a previous post—broken visor feathers to represent his destroyed nature as a "hero" and missing claws—and his long, very unkempt feathers represent the passage of time (how long they've been stuck in there) and almost unraveling (how badly has Hero been damaged by whatever they all experienced in the lead up to Moment of Clarity).

...should be all I wanted to ramble about! Hope you all like this drawing as much as I enjoyed making it :]

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[rafeysdeer]

dizzy (aka clumsy reader x protective jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: jason and his really clumsy girlfriend who is so used to her bruises from simply bumping around, that she forgets that it's not exactly the usual for other people to walk around with bruises. jason who isn't exactly happy to see his girlfriend hurt and makes it his new mission to take care of her.

a/n: that one i think it looks really cute, i'm also a really clumsy person, so it was pretty easy to come out with this one, him taking care of her was just so cute, i can sleep better knowing that they got eachother, anyways, english is not my first language, hope you guys enjoy it 💗

Jason was used to bruises and injuries, part of the job he chose, but he didn't expect that on a cold thursday night, he would find his girlfriend with a bandaged wrist and bruises all over her body, some that even looked old. He expected even less that she would give him a bright smile and run to hug him as if everything was normal, what he didn't know was that bruises and a bandaged wrist were just everyday nonsense for the clumsy girl.

"Honey, what happened to your wrist? Did someone hurt you?" he asks, carefully picking up her injured wrist to take a look, a worried expression on his face, his brow furrowed as he studies it. "Oh, it's nothing, I just got distracted and fell on it, it's okay."

And Jason looked at her face with a huge question mark on his face. "Did you fall on your own arm?" he said looking more and more confused. "Yeah? It was no big deal, really, I've had worse. Come in, i made hot chocolate" she said with the brightest smile on her face, as if she didn't have a fractured wrist.

He followed her into the apartment, the confusion never leaving his face as he slowly closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. Before he could even reach the cozy kitchen, he heard a soft groan of pain, followed by a muttered curse.

He rushes into the kitchen, afraid that she was hurt, even more hurt. And he was right, when he came inside, he found two colorful mugs of boiling chocolate with small marshmallows on the counter, some of the very same hot chocolate spilled around, and his girlfriend, with the hand that was not bandaged, under the cold running water of the sink, with a light burn on the torso of her hand.

"Love? What happened?" he asks, getting closer to her so he can see the injury more clearly. "Nothing serious, Jay, just a lil' burn, i'll be fine, just give me a minute to clean it up." she says, smiling and looking really calm for someone who just burned her own hand.

And as she moves to grab the rag to clean everything up, she bumps into the counter, holding onto it to steady herself, and it hits him, something finally clicks. All the times he watched her get hurt, bump into something or someone, get burned, fall awkwardly, it's too many to count.

She made a joke or two about being a distracted person and clumsy, but he didn't realize how much until now.

He smiled slightly as he watched his girlfriend try to balance the two mugs, knowing how this would end terribly, taking the mugs from her hand. "Honey, go sit on the couch, I'll take these." He noticed her frown, already starting to protest. "You don't have to do this, Jay, I want to help." But he was already interrupting her. "Sweetheart, please, you're going to help me by going sit on the couch." She huffed slightly but went anyway, sitting down and waiting for him to come right behind with the mugs, he put the mugs on the coffee table and went towards the bathroom to get the burn ointment.

And from that point, it just became a routine, her clumsily hurting herself, him taking care of her right after, and at some point it was like he had a sixth sense of when she was going to get hurt, being a vigilante also helped a lot with his reflexes.

So, they were walking down the street and she tripped? His arm was around her before her body could even dream of falling. They were cooking and she was cutting something? The knife was out of her hand before she could cut herself, and he told her to do something safer, like opening the dough.

And just like that, it became something of his, caring for her and looking out for her, knowing how to take care of her when she got hurt, and knowing how to stop her from getting hurt, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

[luvrodite]

ok wait i need to say something about the dick grayson thought i've been turning over in my head for a bit.

i unfortunately do like readers that are a bit tragic and don't get a happy ending. it's like poking at a bruise idk it's cathartic in its own way. anyway. i know the age difference between dick and jason isn't really that big but i think it's big enough for this to work?

anyway i'm thinking about the relationship you have with dick when he moves out of the manor. you guys fuck, sure, and sometimes you go out, but you're not his girlfriend. not really. it's casual, except it isn't at the same time because dick comes with a plethora of his own issues and for some reason you can't quite fathom, he's decided you're the only one that gets to see that side of him.

you see him like nobody else does. you get the good, the bad and the ugly. you hold him through his nightmares. you brush his hair back from his forehead when he stares at his phone a little too long. you come by when it's been a few weeks and you haven't heard from him.

somehow you kind of end up playing intermediary between him and the kid brother his dad/guardian/mentor/older brother picked up along the way. jason is sweet. and you can tell he longs for a relationship with dick but he's got so much going on. it doesn't matter. jason takes what he can get.

you wonder when you started getting involved in your hookups' lives. but then it feels reductive to call it that. what the two of you have spans beyond that. it's so much more than that. dick touches the lives of all that he meets and you aren't special for it, but you feel it. maybe to the others he knows, in their weird, dysfunctional world, it's normal.

but you're a regular citizen. you go to work. you come home and do the dishes. you cook, you clean, you curse out your landlord when he puts off fixing the heating for the nth time. dysfunctional relationships are alien to you – the weight of all dick gives you, it has to mean something. fuck the forehead kisses, it stopped being casual when he held your hand through a doctor's visit and the fibers in your pillowcase swallowed his tears after a run in with bruce.

you play intermediary. jason sees more and more of you than you think he should, but he doesn't complain. you even grow used to the little bugger. you don't have much in the way of your own family, and he becomes something like the kid brother you never had. you grow used to the inappropriate humour that shocked you the first time it came out of his mouth, blue eyes shining up at you mischievously.

his height gives off the impression he's more youthful than he is and sometimes you end up babying him a little more for it. sometimes, he lets you. you brush a hand over his curls like you do his brother and keep a hand on his shoulder when you go to the corner store. you tell him to pick out whatever he wants, and that it's on you. he looks up at you like you got him the moon when you toss him a copy of his favourite book after a while of not seeing him – yours is all beat up, kid, pretty soon you won't be able to read it anymore.

you don't know how to deal with it when he dies, not long after you and dick break things off.

15. only a baby.

it's violent. you get the news from the papers and the picture of the blast zone makes you stop breathing. dick doesn't pick up the phone – why would he? and you're not even sure if you're allowed to reach out.

the last you'd heard, he'd been pretty cosied up with a new co-worker of some sort. red hair, pretty eyes. more than you'd ever gotten from him. sure, you'd known dick – you knew him. you were the closest he'd ever been to anyone, but it had simply been because there was nothing to lose with you.

you hold his grief, hold his heart in your hands, but you are nobody and you will not ask for more because he sleeps in your bed and sometimes, he holds your hand in public when you're walking through a crowded street. you guys have good days and it's something.

but he’ll is not yours – will never be yours, not fully, not like he belongs to bruce and gotham and the titans and his team. you’re a girl who he comes to because you’re safe.

but his brother dies and he's gone and you're left with not only the heartbreak of losing something never named, but the grief of a real tangible friendship, the death of a brother.

you are nobody and nothing – you're not the one that gets the guy and you are not the one that gets to mourn. you see him at his lowest and love him at his worst but he is not yours, and neither is the little boy that dies much too young, alone and scared.

you fall between the cracks. nobody stops to think about the girl who'd sometimes been mentioned in passing at the dinner table, on the rare occasion dick ventured back home to the manor. how can they? not when bruce is driven near mad with grief, not when dick is god knows where and it's all that alfred pennyworth can do to keep his charge and himself together.

i don't know. i just think about how it takes you months to muster up the energy and courage to visit your friend's grave – because jason was your friend, too. the baby brother you'd never had, a kid you'd felt responsible for, like he was your own. the visit leaves you exhausted and it's of course then, that on your way out, you bump into the second half of your troubles.

dick stares at you like he's seen a ghost and all that happened between you lingers in the air, the weight of it oppressive in the cold winter air. frost in the air, frost clinging to your lashes, heartbreak colouring you blue.

you look at him and think of it – how much you had put up with from him. how dearly you'd loved him. stupid, to catch feelings, but you'd gone ahead and done it. worst of all, he'd known it, too.

there'd been a time, not so long ago, when you would have let him do anything he pleased. lay me down, strike me, hurt me, i will bear it because it is at your hand. and he'd known.

he'd known it was wrong but he was hurting and it’d been easy with you because you didn't ask for more than he’d give but you did hope. and he could see it in your eyes that you hoped he’d give himself wholly over to you but he just wasn't there. perhaps he never would be. and you deserved better but he couldn't let you go. his regret, one amongst many, is that he had not done it sooner. shielded you from more pain at his hand.

once, dick had something of a god to you. now he stands before you and you see him as he is, a mere man. a tired, grief-stricken, man.

the only mercy he grants you now, is to let you walk away.

blank blogs dni. minors dni. have your age in your bio otherwise you will be blocked!

[areyoudreaminof]

Biscuits

Nyx didn’t have much of an idea of just how long he had been laying there. He wasn’t aware of anything. Not his limbs, or his wings. Not of the bed beneath him, or his room at the House of the Wind that he had escaped to. He certainly didn’t register his feelings. Nyx just lay there numbly, staring at the blank wall before him. The sun had begun to set and the last vestiges of light crawled back behind the heavy curtains that he had drawn shut. Perhaps he had slept, he couldn’t be too sure. He was so tired. The moods crept on him slowly the past several weeks. He was angry at first, lashing out at everyone about silly things, getting into stupid arguments with his father. Then the anger twisted into anxiety and sadness, suddenly. Panic balled itself up into sobs in his chest that threatened to release at any time, which they did when he was alone in his room. 

Tired of his mother asking him constantly what was wrong, Nyx found the sadness gone one day, like a soap bubble popping. Instead, a buzzing numbness had settled into his head and chest. Letters from his Day Court cousins sat unopened on his desk, he couldn’t seem to stomach their happiness and he had stopped writing all together.  He had slogged through the past several days in a blur, but today his father confronted him about his countenance. Nyx sat and stared blankly at the wall as his father lectured him. When it was over, he got up and flew to the House without a word. The afternoon sun was still high, and he dragged his body towards his room at the back of the house. If anyone knew he was there, they hadn’t disturbed him. 

The trim moulding along the ceiling didn’t move as Nyx stared at it. Somewhere, very far away, the door behind him creaked. Nyx squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to sleep so whoever it was would leave him alone. 

Something soft landed on the bed, while the smell of chocolate and the sounds of soft breathing crept towards him. The bedside lamp flicked on. Bracing himself, Nyx cracked one eye open. Ori, his four year old cousin, stood in front of him with a soggy chocolate-chip scone in her hand and a concerned look on her face. Her cat, Pudding crept down from his shoulder, his green eyes wide. 

“How did you know I was here?” Nyx mumbled. 

“House told me,” Ori climbed her way up onto the bed with one hand, crumbs scattering all over the duvet as she sat in front of him. “What’s wrong, Nyxie?” her voice was hushed. 

“Dunno, just sad I guess. House talks?” 

Ori nodded, “House said you went in your room. I got you somefing to eat ‘cause you missed dinner.” she held out the scone, misshapen and melted in her stubby fingers.

 Nyx wasn’t hungry, he hadn’t eaten much in days, but he ate the scone anyway. It made Ori happy. He reached over her, gulping down the water that the House had now provided. 

"Does anyone else know I'm here," Nyx asked.

"Mama knows, but Papa doesn't yet. Mama will tell him in a little bit. Why are you sad?” Ori asked, her owlish blue eyes were soft and riddled with concern he didn’t deserve, “Are you in trouble?” 

Nyx shook his head as he sunk lower into himself, curling his wings behind him and drawing up his knees. “I’m not sure,” he repeated, “it just came one day and hasn’t really gone away.” 

“Mama calls them down days, she says they come and you gotta be ready,” Ori nodded sagely, “lots of sleep and treats. And a baff, to get the sadness off." She checked off an invisible list, like a little winged librarian. 

Nyx gave a half hearted laugh which turned into a sputter of surprise as Pudding began to work and knead his paws into Nyx’s stomach. “What are you doing?” he mumbled, scratching the fluffy cat under his chin. 

“Makin’ biscuits!” Ori giggled, “he’s trying to get comfy. Scoot over, I wanna get comfy too.” 

Nyx moved as Ori wiggled her way next to him, grabbing his hand tight. “I’m sorry you’re sad, I hope you feel happy soon.” 

“Me too,” Nyx swallowed a lump of tears back into his throat, but they escaped out of his eyes anyway. He began to sob softly, and Ori reached out her hands and roughly wiped away the tears on his cheek and hugged him, while Pudding curled up between them and purred.  The vibrations and hug began to calm him.

“Love you Nyxie,” she whispered, as she grabbed his hand tightly. “It will be a happy day soon.” 

“Love you too, Ori.” and sleep took them both into its embrace.

[spanktony]

chapter two. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — small tension w a tad bit of angst.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 1.7k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— this is the last filler chap before things start heating up lol. if this does well quickly i'll drop the next chap immediately

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

what? what was that noise?

it takes a second for you to register the sound, the left side of your cheek pressed against the soft white pillow on your bed as your eyes lazily blink open.

the buzzing continues.

you sigh, reaching a hand out from under the blanket, and pat the nightstand in search of the culprit. your fingers brush against the device, and you pull it towards you, holding it over your face and squinting.

the bright light momentarily blinds you, but when you open your eyes fully, you hit the green accept button and bring the phone to your ear, muttering a groggy hello.

"y/n," your manager's voice came through, far too cheerful for 1:07 a.m. "wake up! i got some big news!"

"obviously i'm up." you groan, rolling over onto your stomach and closing your eyes. sassiness wasn't really something you could control before your morning coffee. "what's the news?"

"karina wants you to help write and produce her solo," your manager blurts out, his excitement practically vibrating through the line. "she personally asked for you."

your eyes snap open. whatever sleep fog still remained vanishes in an instant. "wait, what?" you ask, sitting up so quickly the blanket falls off your shoulders.

"you heard me. sm called. she wasn't happy with the last version of her single and asked for your help. she loves working with you, y/n."

your heart races. karina. asking for you. specifically.

"but—but—" you sputter, still not quite believing his words. "no buts," your manager interrupts, clearly on a roll. "sm is flying you out first thing this morning."

you blink, your brain still playing catch-up. "wait, this morning? like, in a few hours?"

it was around 5 am when your plane finally took off, your headphones over your ears, and eyes covered by a frog sleeping mask that your mom got you for christmas.

the flight was long; it didn't help that you kept twisting and turning in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. only fully submitting to the exhaustion once your head fell against your manager's shoulder, who was fast asleep and didn't mind.

the plane touches down with a soft jolt, and you push yourself upright, immediately regretting it. the frog mask from your mom's christmas gift sits comically on top of your head, and a long yawn escapes your lips as you stretch your stiff muscles.

your manager, ever the morning person, doesn't seem to notice your exhaustion as he watches security gather your things and move toward the exit. "you ready?"

you nod, rubbing your eyes. the realization of being back in korea hasn't fully hit you yet, and the reason you're back again isn't for personal enjoyment this time but for business.

with...karina.

you hadn't seen her in weeks (because you were in la), hadn't even spoken to her since that one fateful day when she gave you her number after pulling slightly on your arm. so much time had passed since then, and now, suddenly, the dark-haired girl was the topic of all your thoughts.

your manager and the security guards walk a little ahead, talking amongst themselves as they lead the way toward the exit of the airport. then there's a shutter, a faint shutter sound. then another.

you glance up to see a few people hovering near the arrivals area, some pointing in your direction. the whispers turn into excited squeals as you walk by; phones start popping up like whack-a-moles, flashes of professional cameras going off.

and you instinctively cover your face with the frog-shaped sleep mask, which causes a couple of laughs to erupt from the growing crowd. but you quickly pull it back when you realize you can't see out of it.

you hear your manager talking with the security team, and suddenly there's an arm wrapped around your shoulders, leading you outside, the warm sunlight hitting your skin. you're ushered into a waiting car, and your manager sits next to you, giving you a reassuring smile before explaining the next steps of your busy schedule for the day.

"wait, what? lunch?" you ask, a bit incredulous, a bit shocked. your manager chuckles and nods, "they want to treat you to lunch as a thank you for your hard work."

huh.

you sink back into the plush seat, twisting your lips. "and, um, all the girls are gonna be there?"

"yep," he replies. "everyone, including their manager. so make sure to rest when you get to your hotel room, okay?"

your heartbeat picks up speed.

"okay."

you really love your hats.

karina thinks to herself, watching you from the corner of her eye as you sit across the table from her, laughing about something aeri said. instead, this time you're wearing a red balenciaga hat with your brown hood pulled up over it.

you seem so comfortable, laughing and chatting with the others. they each had mentioned having fun that day in the recording studio and how you're one of the easiest people they've ever worked with, along with the most patient and caring.

the way you interact with her members is just the sweetest thing; karina's heart clenches, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watches you. your eyes widen, then you quickly nod your head, agreeing with yizhuo on how mogu mogu is one of the best drinks you've ever tasted.

the truth is, karina did request that you help her with her solo. it seems bad; it really does. her asking you to take down her number was a bold move, only to never receive a text from you, then asking you to come all the way to seoul for her own benefit.

she did it, though.

it wasn't just so she could see you; she truly did want your help. although she was happy to see you again.

the days after the first meeting, karina would replay your conversation in her head.

"ah, i didn't think of that. let's do it again!"

"for sure!"

karina doesn't even understand why the interaction stuck with her; it wasn't anything special, just a quick moment. yet, it stayed. karina was never one to act like a lovesick fool, and she prided herself on her professionalism. she had always been able to keep her personal and work life separate, and she knew the importance of keeping her relationship status private.

she knows how that turns out; she's experienced it firsthand before.

but something about you made her throw all caution out the window. she wanted to know more. wanted to spend more time with you.

"unnie? are you feeling alright?" minjeong asks, a tiny smile cracking through her concern. karina blinks, realizing she had been lost in thought.

"i'm fine," she replies with a forced smile, taking a sip of her water.

"i saw fortune cookies near the register. anyone else want one?" you suddenly ask, a wide smile on your lips as you stand from your seat. karina's eyes linger a second too long.

you earn a few yeses from the group before making your way to the counter, and karina gets up to follow you, excusing herself.

you glance over your shoulder as karina steps beside you. swallowing a lump in your throat, you turn back to the counter, your hands digging in the bowl of fortune cookies, trying to ignore the discomfort of karina's sudden presence beside you.

"how have you been?" karina asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"fine," you reply curtly, not looking at her. "busy." she pauses, and you can feel her studying you.

"you seem upset with me." you let out a small, humorless laugh, finally turning to meet her gaze.

"upset? no, i'm not upset. i just want to get this over with."

her brows furrow, her lips parting in confusion.

was she really trying to act like she had no idea why you were acting this way?

"get what over with?"

you stare at her. is she serious?

when it's clear that karina's waiting for an answer, you let out a frustrated sigh, stepping a little closer to her.

"this whole thing," you say, gesturing vaguely. "helping you with your solo. i don't even know why you asked me when you haven't bothered to talk to me since the day you gave me your number."

karina's expression shifts, her lips parting slightly as if to respond, but she doesn't. instead, she just stares at you, processing your words. "i didn't talk to you because you didn't text me," she says finally, her voice a little louder than before.

"what are you talking about? i did text you," you counter, swapping the handful of fortune cookies to your other hand before pulling out your phone. "i sent you a message right after you gave me your number. and then another. you never replied."

you open your messages, scrolling to the thread and showing her the unsent texts, demonstrating that you did, in fact, reach out to her. karina takes your phone, her brows furrowed as she inspects the screen.

her lips press into a thin line before she lets out a quiet laugh. "y/n," she says, holding the phone up. "you put a 3 instead of a 4 in my number."

"what?" you reply, confused. your mouth opens again, then closes. "no way," you mutter, snatching the phone back to confirm.

sure enough, there it is. the tiny typo that had caused months of silence. "oh my god."

karina bites her lip, her eyes shining with amusement. "i thought you ghosted me," she says, a giggle escaping her lips; she immediately brings her hand up to hide her huge smile, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

you groan, running a hand over the material of your hoodie. "i thought you were ignoring me!" you exclaim. you can't help the small laugh that slips past your lips.

you feel stupid, embarrassed. "i—this is so stupid. i feel so stupid."

"hey," she says gently, her smile softening. "it's not your fault. just... a miscommunication."

you exhale sharply, shaking your head. "yeah, but still. all this time, i thought—" you stop yourself, a sigh escaping your lips.

karina studies you, her gaze searching, curious.

"whatever. at least now i know."

karina tilts her head slightly, her eyes searching yours. "so... can we start over?" her question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you just stare at her.

then, slowly, you nod. "yeah. i guess we can."

she smiles, a genuine one that makes your heart flutter. "good."

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

[kkdoesstuff]

some points that i failed to mention because i ain't realize i was at the end already lmfao:

loved that pansy and neville had the wedding of the century, love them sm. their relationship is my favorite (besides the obvious one) but they really came through in this fic ya kno

narcissa showing hermione off and introducing her to her friends and claiming her publicly as a malfoy was a good showing, i loved that for them. that was pre-the healing session but it was really good of narcissa and hermione recognized her growth and their little mother/daughter in law moments were so cute 2 me

the weirdo pureblood society ladies being like, "yeah hermione give him hell!" about the domestic abuse was... something. i guess it absolves hermione because other women beat their husbands too??? lmfao idk whatever hate it but *shrug*

theo being deliriously happy with charlie gives me all the feels, also love them sm! i want theo to move to romania 2 be with charlie forever and they can both be dragon daddies!!! clearly the goats told the dragons that he belongs :3 :3 :3 💖💖💖

i guess hermione is staying friends with her horrible friends because of politics and i guess... sure. they still suck tho and she acknowledges this.

i will go down with this ship! idc what i say, the criticisms i have for their characterizations, how much i yell, i will watch them fall in love in every circumstance, in every place, at anytime, anywhere. on a train or on a place. on a boat or drinking root beer floats.

oh in an earlier post that was riddled with typos, i was saying i was offended that anyone in this fic is taller than draco and i stand by that.

btw!!! i'm rescinding my apology to the hermione delegation, she been beating his ass and taking out her problems on him for this whole fic and toxic abusive hermione is the 1st worst iteration of hermione! idc idc idc it's gross, i'm disgusted, and abuse is never okay! this is fiction and fictional characters but i just need to make myself clear on that!!!

that's really my only qualm about this fic tho, but i'll get into my final thoughts in a bit after i finish the epilogue!!! weeeee~ 🥰

*giggles excitedly and kicks my little feet* guess who's about to get into BLOODY, SLUTTY, AND PATHETIC by WhatMurdah?

ME, bitch 🥰🥰🥰

it was published over about 5 months in 2024 (so it's complete obvs, i don't read WIPs sorry not sorry), is 21 chapters, and just over 195K words! so a nice sized fic that i'm about to devour like a starving man, tysm.

i am and have truly been looking forward to this fic ever since someone on reddit said they have never seen draco simp and pine and be stupid for hermione harder than he ever has in this fic. i think they said she slaps him in public and then he is just like, "omg she fucking touched me!!!!!!!! *nuts*" like... LMAO yes bitch. yes pls! and then that possessive draco tag is staring at me like 👀😈 and i'm staring back like 👁👄👁💖

this will be my FIRST EVER marriage law fic and i am so happy that it is this one. i can't wait to see what happenssssss. i have tried to avert my eyes from the hype, summaries, think pieces and such because i'm not trying to set myself up or know too much or be disappointed or go off anyone else's interpretation, i just want to let the fic take me where it's gonna take me!!!! i want to scream, cry, giggle, pine, laugh, throw up, feel the feels, etc. my body is ready!!! *rubs hands together vigorously*

summary:

“In my humble opinion there’s only three things that men should be and that is bloody, slutty, and pathetic.” And, on a good day, Draco Malfoy can be all three. When war heroine Hermione Granger and Azkaban-tattooed war criminal Draco Malfoy are forced to wed as part of Shacklebolt’s controversial Reconciliation Act, they openly fight the match and each other—their public brawls breathlessly reported by the press. Secretly, a deeply traumatized Draco delights in Hermione’s attention and pines for a real marriage with her—even as her forced proximity to the Black family magic irritates the cursed scar Bellatrix left on her arm, reminding her why she can never truly trust or forgive him. Then Hermione discovers that Draco’s blood will soothe the scar . . . and Draco is willing to trade his blood for her body. (With post-war blood purity politics, black market potioneers, Pansy Parkinson’s career advice, the Malfoys blackmailing Hermione’s Wizengamot opposition, BDE Neville Longbottom hunting Death Eaters, a slutty Theo Nott serving as Draco’s right-hand man, and Crookshanks loose in Malfoy Manor.)

tags: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marriage law, Forced Marriage, Post-War, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining/Possessive Draco Malfoy, Morally Grey Hermione Granger; rating: EXPLICIT

very interested by the pairings outside of D/Hr which are Pansy/Neville, and Theo/Everyone lmfao we LOVE a slutty theo, we truly do. i can't wait to see the friendship between him and draco in this one!!! i love their friendship so so so soooo much. (sidenote, i might have to read some theo/harry fics soon enough but that's neither here nor there) ANYWAYS apparently neville has big dick energies in BSP so i'm ready for that. crookshanks is innis bitch where he BELONGS, i love me some crookshanks i truly do.

anything else...? nope i don't think so LET'S MF GOOOO

[lunarriviera]

What are your thoughts on the last ep of under the skin...that cant be shen yi right...im seeing a lot of twin theories but thats a weird plot twist honestly 😅

to answer this question i guess i have to get up off the floor first, where i have been lying facedown and motionless since uts2 ended over a week ago. two weeks ago? yesterday? today? i don't know anymore i've lost all track of time, who are you? where are we?

oh right—the s2 ending. you must mean this scene, right? what a great way to end things! du cheng, happy, walking to meet a group of friends at his birthday party! truly wrapped up the whole drama, and left us in such a heartwarming place with our favorite characters!

...oh you didn't mean that ending? you mean there's another one?

[mindless screaming behind the cut AS WELL AS SPOILERS]

[and this winds up being about all of s2 as well as the final tag, OOPS]

so okay listen before i can even address this without the mindless screaming, i have to level with y'all here: s2 was rough on me. there are only like three du cheng stans in all of anglophone cdrama fandom and i'm probably two of them ( @wannings-wontons is the other one, thank god for her). i've written eleventyleven fics from his pov so i am ferally protective of my big stupid hot cop son. this season put him through the goddamn wringer and for my taste there were just a few too many scenes of du cheng looking like he was about to burst into tears while shen yi was smiling winsomely, for all the world as if he were not the one personally causing his captain to experience devastating mortal agony. allow me to demonstrate.

in the driver's seat: unspeakable anguish. literally can't talk.

in the passenger seat: hey nice air conditioner! guess what i have a new friend! i spent the night at his place, talking about infinity and human potential! in a few more episodes he'll be a murder suspect!

(i'm getting to the cliffhanger, believe me i'm getting there, no really i am, we just have to spend a minute dealing with the divorce arc first)

because, while i absolutely adore angst bambi (as @whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst has immortalized him), and thanks to @elenothar have firmly adopted him as a most beloved emotional support twink (not least because i suspect tan jianci is himself kind of a genius; no triple threat should be this good of an actor), i also honestly not infrequently this season wanted to drag shen yi into the men's room by his pretty hair and flush his pretty little head down the [redacted] until he came to his pretty little senses. because while later in the arc he clearly is, you know, attempting that deep-cover thing, and has to reject du cheng to his face, right in front of Evil Eugenicist Art Critic Weasel Man, in order to gain Weasel Moriarty's trust, etc.—

there are also a bunch of times when du cheng is visibly upset and miserable and in genuine pain, and shen yi just laughs. literally laughs at him. like tan jianci what are you doing, do you want the audience to dislike you? how are you trying to play this?? are we supposed to think, wow shen yi sure knows what he's doing? are we supposed to think he suddenly has the world's worst taste in men? because long before Weasel Man smashes a vase and snaps at his lab assistant and possibly kills someone and has assorted tantrums which start to tip off shen yi that maybe his new bestie is kind of a bag of dicks—long before that starts happening? shen yi just likes that guy. he LIKES him. enough to quote whitman to him (fang kaiyi you take his queer name out your mouth); enough to stay up all night painting the stars with him and we don't know what all else. enough to hang out in his lab for days on end, listening to junk science and pretending to understand the human genome and just what. shen yi. WHAT. he's literally a Bond villain styled like an asymmetric reptile—all this, just because he's tall? and he's gone to the symphony a few times? what, because he negged your painting, and that turned you on? i shouldn't have said any of that, but i did; and now i refuse to take it back. because inside me are two wolves, and they sound like this:

one wolf has been extremely online for many years, and thinks she's very hip and chill and jaded. this wolf talks in memes and laughs at herself, and she's like: “haha fun drama! Solving Crimes Through Art! lol i can't believe this turgid love song playing over a romantic montage, wow it's so stupid.” and also: “lmao divorce arc so hilarious, WELCOME HOME CHEATER lol get it, good joke right?” and: “oh my god why is there another pointless cliffhanger, they will NEVER GET a s3 what are they thinking. this scene is therefore not canon and can be safely ignored, just like the s1 tag turned out to be a ~~~dream."

but the other wolf is lying motionless in her barrow in the darkness flat on her stomach in mouldering leaves and mud head resting on crossed paws staring into the night with her old yellow eyes and she says they stabbed my son and left him alone in his blood and the last thing he saw was a cruel face worn by the boy he has come to love a boy standing at the end of the alley looking down at his phone who then moves past him and keeps on walking

and then, you know. then i lie on the floor for a week! which is fine, i'm an extremely psychologically healthy person who has certainly not at all outsourced her entire emotional well-being to an imaginary public safety bureau criminal investigator on the coast of southeast china.

so what do i think about the cliffhanger? here is what i think about it; and again, sorry for the hatchet job on shen yi but it was relevant:

1. i do think it's a dream, yes. they've already played that game with us—we waited two years to find out who was carving up shen yi's creepy murder-red self-portrait and whomst should it be but…nobody! just shen yi having nightmares about his future fling, apparently. (notice, too, how fang kaiyi GRABBED that craft knife, which shen yi had deliberately left on the easel, and didn't even ask why it was there. he might be tall and elegant and have good taste but he's nowhere near as smart as you are, shen yi. do better.)

2. whose nightmare is it, though: shen yi's, or du cheng's? remember that the first time du cheng meets fang kaiyi, he tells shen yi, "he reminds me of someone: the old you." (and shen yi laughs merrily, even though nothing about that is funny, either the observation or du cheng's immediate mistrust and jealousy. TAN JIANCI WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING). then, later, on the precinct rooftop, after the case is all over, shen yi confesses yet again that there's something in him that's not altogether good, that he has quote "demons," and that if he hadn't met du cheng, he might have gone down some vague unspecified dark path. not quite sure how a portrait artist was gonna become a mass murderer or whatever, but okay i guess. there was something off about shen yi 1.0, and du cheng could see it even a decade ago and he didn't like it then any more than he does now.

given all that, then, the nightmare is probably shen yi's. he's prone to them anyway, and he knows now how badly he's hurt du cheng, and that he came dangerously close to, well, getting into bed with the enemy. i don't think it's even until fang kaiyi is so limpidly nonchalant about zhou shanshan's death that shen yi's inner moral compass comes shrieking back into play (and then it really does; shen yi who never raises his voice out there just shouting that man down).

there's one argument to be made for the case that it's du cheng's nightmare, though, which is the way that he looks up at the camera at the very end of the shot, and laughs. shen yi 1.0 is standing too far away for that to be his point-of-view. so who's standing over du cheng? and who would he laugh at, in recognition, like that? shen yi 2.0, presumably (or 3.5? not sure what version we're on anymore).

either way here's my final observation, and then i swear to god i'll shut up, before the shen yi stans come for me like maenads. i was chatting with @wannings-wontons and she said something that absolutely blindsided me, which is that the cliffhanger literalizes the arc of the series: shen yi did, in fact, metaphorically stab du cheng in s2. why else would either of them dream that? du cheng being badly, even fatally wounded by arrogant young artist shen yi is precisely what happened during the divorce arc. and their reconciliation was so heavily censored as to be, to some of us anyway, unpersuasive. (two cops, talking on a rooftop all night! five feet apart cause they're not gay!) as @wannings-wontons said: "the last scene just reflects how badly hurt he was. and we're left to decide whether he'll recover."

so which is worse, dreaming that your lover stabs you? or dreaming that something twisted inside you stabs the man you love?

tldr, shen yi doesn't need a soap opera evil twin: he's his own evil twin, and he knows this. and what is more, du cheng knows it now too. if there's ever a third season, which seems completely impossible to me, the writers have to know that they have NOT fixed this.

fortunately, we have something censored production companies don't have, and it's called fanfiction. so bring on the episode codas, my friends. bring on the long painful conversations and the shouted arguments (du cheng never even got to yell, except once in a parking lot because he was frantic). bring on the tender reconciliations that can only come after those blowout knock-down-drag-out fights, and are therefore real and grounded, not stilted, wooden, woefully inadequate mockeries of reunion. let people throw furniture and cry and try to explain and plead and confess and even, sure, why not, grab the other person and kiss him breathless, and say I don't want to do this without you, say don't put me through that ever again, say but this isn't enough and I need something different, say okay then let's figure that out together, say i'm sorry i hurt you, you're the most important person to me and that's the last thing i ever want to do.

it's up to us, not to leave them there in the alley like that. but the good news is if it's work, it's only work. and it's our work to do.

[miwiheroes]

Hey! Miwiheroes

I saw you succesfully converting a mileven into a byler, and can you do the same to me plz? I don't like mileven community, they often are really close minded and I don't wanna be a part of it anymore. I open the debate and please try to justify this things that make me believe in mileven endgame:

1- Mike has insecurities since s1 about feeling needed and having somebody to lean on, I do believe Mike's family lacks love and is cold, and maybe that is why he has those insecurities. Where am I going with this? Well, when El disappeared, Mike got super upset and, in my opinion, he overprotected Will so he could FEEL like somebody needed him, I think Finn and the Duffers mention it in an interview a while ago. So maybe that is the cause he couldn't say "I love you" to Eleven, he even says it, he believes she will leave him eventually, like everybody does. That is probs the cause he is obsessed with El in s3, because he really loves her and is too scared of losing her.

I just can't see why byler is supposed to be the endgame. I think in s5 Mike will motivate El to fight and they eventually will come together at the end, having their happy ending.

+ Maybe he was sad in the snowball because he thought El would just leave him there

Those insecurities are not healthy for a relationship, but they show he really loves her

I would love to see this things from a byler perspective if you can

Tyyy

Hiya!! Glad you came to me it's such an honour tbh

Yes, Mike definitely has insecurities surrounding being needed. The thing is: character arcs being set up in season 4 suggest that El no longer needs him/ should no longer need love from a man who treats her badly, makes her feel insecure. The change from the beginning of season 4 to the end clearly shows this:

El thinks she needs Mike's love to know that she is not a monster.

El goes to the lab and figures out by herself without Mike's love that she is not a monster.

Mike says 'I love you' to her. He calls her a 'superhero'. It does not work and does not save Hawkins because she no longer needs that.

They are not on the best terms afterwards because El has a very different perspective on things.

So now we've established that it's pretty clear that she no longer needs him. I think she's realised by the end, that their relationship won't work. This is why they won't be endgame for me, it makes no sense for her storyline in S5 to be Mike 'motivating her'.

She does not need a man to motivate her, cmon. Come on now. A point in season 4's lab storyline is that she can do all this shit by herself, drawing on her mother's love. She was able to gain back her powers through love, but at that point she had no clue Mike loved her or not. And yet she still got them back. She did not need Papa either, and he was constantly paralleled to MIKE in season 4.

Okay back to the beginning of your ask.

Mike's always been protective of Will, and we can see how their relationship is very different compared to their other friends throughout season one. An example of him being protective is when he does stuff like:

"I'm the only one acting normal here. I'm the only one that cares about Will."

"So this is all Will's fault?!"

*Literally pushes his bully over onto the ground and is willing to fight him after he says homophobic things about him*

*Constantly urges Lucas that Will is alive when the rest of them don't think so*

Like, bro literally instigates all his friends to go out looking for him in the rain, because he believes that would be what Will would do for them ("he put himself in danger to help the party").

So in your point of view, Mike projected his protective feelings about someone needing him onto Will because he's upset about El being gone. Couldn't the EXACT same thing be said but the opposite way around then? Mike likes to be needed. And it just happens to be that these two people need him in that moment. However, THE DIFFERENCE is this:

When Will goes missing? Mike never gives up. He constantly urges his friends to do whatever it takes to find Will. The reason he keeps El around (before he makes friends with her) is because bad people are after her and because she recognises Will in a photo. He says that El is a weapon and that "we can't find Will if we're dead". Even when they all believe him to be dead, he says that Will isn't because of something he heard on the radio, just like how Joyce heard him on the phone.

When El goes missing? Mike gives up. To be honest, it's been a year. Maybe if Will went missing for a year, he would have given up then too. But, we can see in a flashback scene from the VERY DAY that El goes missing, Mike literally sees her and doesn't go after her. The government does, but he just squints at her and doesn't do anything. Mike calls her on the walkie, and on halloween, he stops, prioritising Will and later figuring out that meeting him was the best thing he's ever done, and it seems conclusive. He has no hope of her being alive because he says to Max, "But she's gone, just like Bob." (Bobs literally just died so hes saying shes dead). Mike never uses Will as a vessel to find El, even though he easily could, being that he's connected to the upside down.

So where am I going with this? No. Mike does not project his feelings onto Will from his feelings about El. The behaviours he exhibits are continuous from his feelings before El went missing, and he doesn't treat him in the same way.

Some other points you brought up were:

Mike is afraid to lose El and that is why he can't say I love you. Of course he is afraid to lose her. He cares about her, he's said that truthfully. He's afraid to lose Dustin, he's afraid to lose Will, he's afraid to lose Lucas, he's afraid to lose anyone. He feels that survivors' guilt from season one especially though, which is all the more upsetting about why he says I love you in the end. Will tells Mike that El needs him and always will. Mike gets the belief that El needs him to say I love you to her, and gets reminded by Will before he says it. AND SO that is why he says it to her in the end. In reality of course, it is Will that needs him. SOOOO the thing that makes him 'love' El is that fact that she needs him, but he's going to get a real shock when he realises he loved the version of El that's really Will and what he feels.

Mike lives in a loveless and cold family. No he's not in a completely loveless family. Karen loves both her kids and expresses it regularly, and we even see this in season 4 when Karen hugs Mike at the reunion scene. I guess what you might be talking about is Ted and Karen. Here's the fucking thing. Mike knows his parents are not in love. He thinks that's what relationships are supposed to look LIKE. He internalises his family's issues. So, he gets into a relationship like his parents', a loveless one. In season 3 we see him trying to act on logic not emotion, seeing that getting into a relationship like this is just the logical course of action and just part of growing up. That's exactly what NANCY DOES WITH STEVE and yet I don't see people going 'oH shE lOveS hiM sHe jUst nEvEr sEen hEr pAreNts sAy iT!!!!'. We can all agree that she just tried to emulate her parents, but she doesn't actually love him. (SHE EVEN SAID I LOVE YOU OUT LOUD but still can't mean it truthfully). But how about we break this cycle? Breaking cycles of loveless relationships is one of the themes in stranger things so it makes sense for this to happen again.

Maybe he's sad in the Snowball scene because he thinks maybe El will leave him there. He only seemed upset when Will went with someone else and the camera shots literally makes it clear? I have a whole post on this if you want to read it: Snowball Scene Analysis. When El comes in, he doesn't say anything like 'Oh I had no idea you'd be here'. I believe that he knew she was coming, and sitting on that chair, he was conflicted given everything that went on with him that season, the promises he's made to El vs. the way he feels about Will now. The one shot of him looking at her also doesn't make him seem happy, but yeah, take that scene and do what you want with it tbh.

OOF okay thankyou so much for your ask!! This was quite the challenge but it really actually gave me a whole new perspective on things and I really love these asks because it gives me a chance to better understand the show itself <3 Let me know if you're swayed or smth haha or if you have a counterpoint :)

Also thanks for not being toxic. If anyone wants to come and debate with me, do it in this way, because there is no space for negativity and toxicity on my page thankyou very much.

[cosmerelists]

Did I Achieve my Earnest Hopes & Dreams for Wind and Truth?

The night before Wind and Truth came out, I wrote up a list of things I was hoping to have happen (or not happen) in that book. Now that it's a month later and I've finished it, how much of what I wanted did I get?

[Obviously, big big spoilers for Wind & Truth!]

Kaladin lives. WELL... He is...alive. Immortal, really. But all of his friends think he's dead, since he left his body behind when he became a Herald. He did not get to meet with up Adolin & Shallan for drinks like he promised. That's more what I was hoping for...but I'll take this. He IS alive.

Kaladin lives and is happy. WELL... I actually think he's...somewhat happy? He swore the Fifth Ideal. He's with Syl. He's in a Tranquil Mind Palace giving therapy to the Heralds. It does seem like it might get a bit...lonely? But it did not end with him broken or anything like that, so again...I'll take this. He's not unhappy.

There's a really cool Kaladin fight. Maybe two. Honestly, I think we had a sad lack of cool Kaladin fights. I understand that this book was all about Kaladin figuring out who he is without the spear, and I respect that...but I did miss there being some kind of Grand Kaladin Entrance After Which He Kicks Serious Butt. The only fight we got was him vs. Nale, which was...okay, but was solved ultimately via Flute and Therapy and not Cool Fighting Moves. I'm a somewhat simple soul. I missed having Cool Fighting Moves.

Kaladin & Szeth have to fight someone together. Not really. :( Not in the "back-to-back facing off against a hundred foes" that I was picturing, at least.

Leshwi has a significant role. Leshwi was there, but mostly walking and complaining about having to walk now. Again, I was hoping for more Cool Fighting Leshwi, which we didn't get, but I did like that we at least got some scenes with her.

There's a really cool Leshwi fight. Sadly, not so much. Her small amount of fighting was off-screen.

Adolin is NOT Odium's champion. He sure wasn't!

Adolin lives. He did! I think the Adolin story was one of my favorites, to be honest. Him becoming Unoathed was so cool.

Shallan lives (I'm not super worried about her for whatever reason but I couldn't just include two of the three, you know?) She did! ...Although trapped in Shadesmar but NOT able to world jump, which feels like the worst of both worlds. As soon as she got trapped I was like "Hell yeah Shallan worldhopper," but it doesn't seem like it's going that way, unfortunately.

Rlain & Renarin romance. Hell yeah! The Rlain & Renarin romance throughout this was super cute.

Rlain & Renarin romance that isn't like tragic or awkward or anything. I request warm & fuzzy plz. Yes! I like that it wasn't super angsty or anything. They both realized that they liked each other pretty quickly and then just kept making eyes at each other.

Shallan & Thaidakar meet. Well, they TALKED, so I'll take that!

MeLaan cameo. Well, as @archmage236 pointed out at the time, this was impossible since Mistborn Era 2 is after Stormlight. And there were no time travel shenanigans either. We DID get a kandra...but it was Ulaam, and not a cool kandra spy reveal.

...I notice the MeLaan cameo. I didn't but I'm pretty sure it's not my bad this time.

Rock returns or at least is in the book somehow. There was NO Rock! I was genuinely sad about that.

Kaladin hits his head on a doorframe in Shinovar. But not as sad as I was about Kaladin not bonking his head on ANYTHING. A tragic missed opportunity.

Navani invents something cool. You know...I don't think she did, unless you count the weird cocoon thing at the end. But she did figure out how to navigate through the Spiritual Realm, which was a cool Navani Science Moment so I'm counting it.

Navani thinks about Raboniel. I think maybe briefly?

We get the third Bondsmith. We did not! And now that Honor is (actually) dead, I feel like we won't? That's too bad, honestly.

The third Bondsmith isn't human. I suppose technically I got my wish here, yeah.

We find out that there are more than five Radiant oaths (pet theory that I want to be right about) Well I'm not right YET, but...come on! Honor even said he hates the number 5! How could that be the number of oaths?? It just doesn't make sense. It would be like there only being 11 metals or something.

Hemalurgy gets used.....I know that would be bad but I think it would be interesting. Hell yeah. It didn't have a huge role but I was actually delighted that Moash got Marshed.

Hemalurgy doesn't get used on anyone I care about!! I mean...I do care about Moash but I think he was a good choice for this. Future Herald Kaladin vs. Hemalurgic Moash battle, one assumes?

Shallan doesn't incorporate Radiant. :(

Maya cure. Yeah, like I said, I thought Adolin's arc--and by extension, Maya and the other Deadeyes' arc--was great! Maya was so butch and I love what she created with Adolin.

The theory that Shallan's mother was a Herald is confirmed. I think it's a cool theory. Oh wow was it ever! The chills I got when Shallan said, "She was at my wedding."

Bondsmith powers used for a fight. I think it would be cool. Sadly, no. We never really did get to see how they'd be used in combat.

Satisfying Sanderlanche. I don't think it was the Greatest Sanderlanche of All Time or anything, but I was fully captivated (and yes, the biggest downside for me was that it was more Emotions and Philosophy than Cool Fights with Swords. I'm a simple woman).

Kaladin meets a sheep. Or a dog. Or BOTH. I CAN'T BELIEVE SANDERSON CANONIZED NO DOGS AT ALL. Tragic. A true blow. And Kaladin only saw sheep from a distance.

I don't cry too hard... I actually did not. I teared up at actually two parts: when Maya came with all of the Deadeyes and when Kaladin decided to take Szeth's place as the Herald. (But honestly, I don't cry at books very often, so maybe that's on me.)

[antivanlights]

I have WRITTEN MORE about this concept. It's like 1k words so I'm adding a cut on this one too... Oh, Illario.

Alright, so I’m thinking that in this scenario Illario would obviously go through a rollercoaster of emotions. At first, he could just play it cool, flirty and stupid casual. Their “thing” happened like 8 years ago (I picture my Rook to be around 30), so they’re basically total strangers now anyway, right? Their interactions are brief and they dance around each other with ease. He doesn’t particularly care about Rook, nor their plans immediately. Figures they won’t get very far, certainly not with his possessed, traumatized disaster of a cousin tagging along. Fighting against gods? He’s giving the group a month or two, tops.

MEANWHILE: Imagine how Rook would feel by falling for a Dellamorte again. I’m sure they wanted to bash their head in against the fish tank in their room upon realizing how totally smitten they were. Perhaps the first few flirts were playful - just a Crow following the script. But as they continued to get to know Lucanis, Rook realized how different he is - how lovely. He’s funny, he’s sweet, he fights really cool doing all sorts of stabby flips... but he’s also hurting and he needs support and Rook wants to do everything, anything they can to help and AARRGH! Now all the flirts are real and Rook can imagine a life with Lucanis while Viago’s familiar voice is echoing in their head: Idiot!

Back in Treviso Illario is actually smug, entertained even when he discovers that Rook and Lucanis have something going on. “Ah, my cousin seems to have taken a liking to my leftovers.” On top of that, a part of him is making it all about himself. Is Rook entertaining Lucanis to get back at me? How fun.

But unfortunately for Illario, the bond between his cousin and Rook is very much real and he is NOT a part of the equation in any shape or form. Rook’s team keeps securing victory after victory, and his cousin is looking more alive than ever. Demon aside (Why isn’t anyone complaining more about the demon? Hello?), Lucanis is now surrounded by friends, regarded as a funny and generous companion (What?), and he and Rook keep giving each other these looks. So now he’s feeling jealous. And a tiny part of him is terrified of the thought that all this happiness and glory could have been his. What if he hadn’t toyed around with Rook? What if things had somehow worked out and he had been the one to join Rook’s team? Would he be smiling like Lucanis? Would he be on a completely different path? A better one?

He catches Lucanis glaring daggers at him from the distance one day. Does he know? He probably knows. (I picture Rook telling him about the disaster with Illario, and Lucanis telling them about the embarrassing thing with Viago in return one evening over wine and snacks.)

So when his schemes fail and he falls to his knees, bloody and disgraced in front of his cousin, he accepts Rook’s disdain. And yet…

SCENE!

Rook entered the heavily guarded wing of the Dellamorte villa, nodding at the guards as they made their way to Illario’s room. He was being kept at the villa for questioning, but Rook figured that this was also another way of protecting him. That said, they were keenly aware of the magical wards set at every door and window – most likely set to incapacitate or eliminate Illario if he tried something.

Pushing open the door to his room, Rook stepped inside. Illario was sitting at the edge of his bed, just staring out towards the balcony he could not step out into. Upon hearing the door and the accompanying steps, he turned to watch as Rook casually made their way inside. Rook closed the door behind them and leaned against it. Rook spoke first, arms crossed against their chest.

“Won’t lie, what you did was horrific and they should’ve probably cut you down on the spot.”

Illario threw himself back, laying on the bed while his feet dangled off the edge. “Ugh, is that all you came here to say?”

The was a brief pause before Rook let out a breath. “Nah. What I wanted to say is that as horrific as it was, you were exactly who we were trained to be. I get it, I guess…” Rook turned their face to look towards the balcony before they continued. “My point is… You can make a choice now.”

Illario audibly scoffed, propping himself up on elbows to look at Rook. “Are you suggesting I can still be redeemed, Rook?”

Rook shrugged but did not meet his gaze. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Illario opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Rook met his gaze and they remained like that for a few seconds.

“I’ll get going now, have a meeting. I’m usually around if you need someone to talk to. As a friend. Just let your guards know and they’ll find me.” Rook quickly turned around and exited to room, the door shutting gently behind them.

Illario lay there, half-stunned as he stared at the door. “Friend?”

END SCENE!

So after that I feel like Rook, Lucanis, Viago and Teia will continue their work to reform the Crows into something less… exploitative? They’re an assassin’s guild, sure, but the constant infighting, cruelty, and awful training/recruiting tactics made for a terrible business model in long need of change.

At some point, they’ll likely let Illario out of his containment unit and just tell him to help out with a ton of things (under careful supervision). I’d like to think that at this point, he’d start to come in regular contact with all the companions and members from their allied factions. Eventually, he’d have the opportunity to forge genuine friendships. Maybe one day he’ll pull through a tough situation and save everyone’s asses.

Later on, he’d be able to make a choice for himself, for his future - be it within or out of the Crows. Though he’d probably have to fake his own death and forge a new identity to get away from it all. But I’m sure the team would help.

Alright that’s all I got this time. Thanks for joining me in this pit of lunacy.

Imagine how wild it’d be if Illario were Crow Rook’s ex. I know it’s crazy but listen: the drama of it.

Full conspiracy-theory level rambling under the cut.

Imagine Rook, long before they got their nickname, working their way through their training, a proud new member of House de Riva. They’re talented, but reckless and naïve. Viago does what he can to instill discipline and wisdom on his charge, but he’s not a miracle worker.

At the same time, Illario is perfecting his skills, mapping out his ambitions. They meet out of pure coincidence, but Illario’s attention immediately clings to them – what a pretty, new toy he has found. His charms work and a young Rook is dazzled. Perhaps its their naïveté, perhaps they’re still trying to find some good in the dark alleys of Treviso. Unfortunately for them, it’s over as soon as it starts.

Rook is promptly left alone to their thoughts – heart broken and personality hardened. “I have better things to do. Bigger plans to follow.” Illario will say as he walks out on them, content with having gotten to play with the pretty toy, content with having broken it. “We have never met. You understand, right?” With that, he will leave, never waiting for a response.

Now, Viago won’t know the full picture, but he will understand that something happened. He’s no stranger to situationships and he will feel that this one was bad. From there on, he will make sure that his protégé’s business never crosses paths with that of the Dellamorte’s. Rook’s career in the Crows will continue with them never coming into contact with anyone from the House – for better or worse.

Years later, Rook is in front of Caterina Dellamorte. Rook and Illario play their parts: they have never met. Viago will play along. It’s none of my business, he’ll think.

But now imagine, Lucanis is alive and well - he's even reached an understanding with his demon. He has found true companionship and love with Rook – and its real. By the Maker, it’s real. Illario can see how they look at each other, how they fight together. Their smiles, their discrete touches. By the end of their adventures, Lucanis has also gone and freed their home, saved the world and secured the seat of First Talon.

Meanwhile, Illario sits alone in a room on the far edge of the villa. Marked as a traitor, completely disgraced. All his plans failed. He’s angry and he’s jealous and he can remember how Rook feels under his touch.

And all this misery? It was dealt by his own hand.

[omagpies]

No way! Another person who has spent way too much time on apex! Who's your main? I'm guessing BH but I don't want to assume. How did you feel about the BH/Fuse engagement? Do you have any heirlooms? Sorry, not very many people play apex on here.

Also, do you have any apex art? If not that's totally cool but I would love to see it!

you have activated my trap card!! many drawings ahead

my main is indeed bloodhound. i also whip out fuse, mirage, and to a lesser degree octane, but mostly i'm a one trick bloodhound. they were what got me into the game in the first place back in season 7 when i heard their 'i'm afraid of heights :(' voicelines (a cool hunter nonbinary character voiced by none other than allegra clark? sign me tf up), and even though i am Very Bad At Shooting and don't actually like battle royale-type games apex stayed my brainrot for over two years. the brainrot is definitely over now and these days i play it as a social thing, but that's how i acquired 2k+ hours lmao

also they released a magpiehound recolor called 'frosthaven' that i gleefully snatched up and have been wearing it ever since (ft the magpie holospray and the magpie mural on their latest map. i think they are catering to me specifically)

i am. truly Not Good. i am here just to clown and gossip and make poor life choices. my impulse control is too non existent for someone whose best skill is shooting a perfect outline around the enemy and not a bullet within

i had SO MUCH bloodhound art over on twitter good god. out of the following two drawings, the first one was bought out by allegra to sell as signed prints, and the second one was reposted onto apex's IG account, and in general this was the one time i genuinely had a blast on twitter interacting with all the devs and vas before everything went downhill both in respawn and on twitter lol. also i have to say, s10 and the whole White Raven thing fed me so. so so. SO well. the existential angst was incredible.

i participated in a couple of zines/projects as well! i have many thoughts about their canonical(!) respawn system and the resulting unimportance of death. adds to the existentialism and to bloodhound's religious themes

overall it was a very, very prolific period for me, and there are many pieces i'm still very happy with to this day

(^ the second to last one is a reference to the fusehound confession scene, and the last one is related to one of my fics, wooden bones (forest deity!bh au))

shipping!!! miragehound was my initial and most prominent ship, and i will never forgive respawn for not expanding on their backstory (their mothers worked together COME ON. they might have met as children! COME ON!!!!! i have a whole series exactly about the What Could Have Been)

their backstory with boone also fascinated me for a very long time, and my friends and i spent many a yap session dissing the dude until we stopped and thought, hey, what if he really was Just Some Guy who made mistakes, what if he wasn't evil, and that's what pulled me right back into the brainrot when i was already starting to slowly recover from it. boone now has a very elaborate backstory and lore and i hope to god respawn never puts him in the games the way we did because a) they don't GET him and b) i don't trust the fandom with him lmao. i'm super down to blabber about him though just say the word. he's everything to me, my big, sad, hairy man

we also invented in-game stuff for him. he had abilities and skins etc etc (the top row of skins is his titan pilot backstory + talos era + 'default' in-game skin)

this diptych still lives rent-free in my head, i think i really won with this one

where miragehound and boonehound flourished, mirageboonehound wasn't far behind! i wrote how it came to be and all. also Рorn. so much Рorn. seriously.

also this was the first time i redrew the twelfth night as my otp. the second one was mouthwashing

fusehound was an absolute delight to watch blossom, especially since we know it wasn't planned and just Kind Of Happened. i felt that lmao. characters be like that. i'm a bit sadge they shelved the whole talos plotline in favor of romance but at this point i gave up on expecting good lore from apex, especially after they fired herr frozenfroh. i didn't draw fusehound nearly as much, BUT i do have one fic that was basically a dream i had lol

honorable mention goes to revhound!! this is the ship that went really hard with artists and writers. deeply painful, deeply compelling, absolutely incredible. mindblowing angst and just as mindblowing рorn, together or separately. best shit. the one ship i didn't write for because compared to the fandom's behemoths i never felt like i'd be able to contribute anything meaningful lol, i just got to sit back and enjoy

bonus: as one of my friends eloquently put it, bh and their bhitches :)

i was going to put in more pictures but hit the 30 images limit!!! my twitter is now abandoned but if you scroll down just a little you can see all the stuff that didn't make it into this post.

apex and bloodhound also REALLY, REALLY got me writing. i came into the fandom already relatively warmed up after a 170k fire emblem fic, but i ended up writing 200k+ for miragehound, mirageboonehound, and fusehound combined. i was unstoppable. it was insane. i've linked some already but you can peep them all here. bloodhound's pov was especially fun to write for, purple prose my beloved

also you asked me about heirlooms! i'm a lucky motherfucker who managed to get one set of shards from the 500th box and another from just the random 0.4% chance. so i have bloodhound's and fuse's as they are my most played characters :)

[seokminfilm]

nangs | lee seokmin

🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🪄 warnings, very short, kissing, pet names (seokmin uses 'baby', reader uses seokmin's nicknames), touchy-feely reader, flirty seokmin, wholesome

🪄 summary, your boyfriend can tell the new shorts he bought have a massive effect on you.

🪄 author's note, saw that picture on my interest feed and automatically thought of seokmin (i'm ill ugh he's so fine)........anw currently in a writing slump & period cramps decided to hit me so i'm sorry for the lack of fics ☹ if you have any seokmin aus/fics/tropes you'd like to see me try, let me know! enjoy me and my hormones going insane

🪄 now playing, happy alone, bss (seventeen)

Your boyfriend lies sprawled out on the bed, brown hair still slightly tousled from waking up from his nap. His eyes are tired, half-lidded and handsome as his eyes scan what must be a long-winded text, based on how his lips move as he reads it.

Something was different about him─your boyfriend was always attractive, drawing your attention from everything you were doing even when he wasn't trying to, but he was doing it easier and more often today.

His hair was the same, that rich brown hair fluffy and calling out to you to card your fingers through it. His face was the same too, features more sharp since he just woke up from what must have been a good nap.

It wasn't his smell either─he smelled of faint cologne and men's deodorant (the good, sweet kind), which he always smelled like. Maybe it was the expression he had on his face─still sleep-ridden, but slowly warming up, a lazy smirk on his face as he chuckled at something on his phone's screen. It was attractive, you wouldn't lie, and you loved it when Seokmin was like this.

But, no; that wasn't it either. What was it that kept drawing you to your boyfriend so easily?

...It was those, wasn't it?

Seokmin had bought a new pair of shorts yesterday, as he came in ranting about how he had found all these good sales at the stores he went to. You didn't really get a good look at them until now, and good god, was he hot in them.

The outfit he was wearing now was simple, a snug-fitting, white tank top, paired on top of the pretty shorts. You could see the dip of his body from your vantage point, and you had to hold yourself back from sighing dreamily, biting your fingernail to distract yourself.

Of course he'd wear that while taking a nap so you could walk in on him. He probably knew the effect his tank tops had on you, laughing silently even now at your blushed face.

"You have so many pictures of me on your phone, baby. Why do you need to stare at me? Do you want another one?" Seokmin's voice is rich, and teasing, and you finally meet his eyes, blushing as Seokmin smirks at you.

"I do want another picture, actually." You play along, walking over to your side of the bed as you slide in beside Seokmin. The scent of his fading cologne draws you in faster than you can think, and you're already tracing the veins in his muscles, giggling as Seokmin laughs at you.

"Photo ops are closed at the moment. Give me an hour when I look presentable." Seokmin jeers lightly, and you shake your head, kissing him slowly as he hums.

"You look presentable just like this." You whisper, hands ghosting over the white tank top and shorts. Seokmin smiles up at you, eyes filled with mirth and sparkles as he chuckles lowly.

"I'd knew you'd like these. I remember when we went shopping the last time, you said I'd look good in this specific style of shorts. See? I took your advice. I listen well." Seokmin's sentence is muffled by the sound of your lips on his again, and his hands fly to your hips, not stopping your ministrations.

"So well." You add, and Seokmin's face gets a splash of red, cheeks blaring up as he scoffs, looking away. Giggling lightly, your fingertips tease the end of Seokmin's tank top, and he giggles, breath picking up as he shakes his head.

"You're such a tease, baby. Stop─get your fingertips away from there. That tickles." Seokmin has a light pout on his lips, and you kiss the pout, smiling.

"I love you." You say out of the blue, and Seokmin smiles, lips flush against your neck as he nods. "I love you too."

"No, like─" You pause, finger tracing Seokmin's strong collarbone. He sighs lightly, leaning into his pillow as his eyes flutter shut for just a second.

He looks heavenly like this─silent as he lets you do your thing. He mumbles something under his breath, and although you can't hear it, you can tell it's a curse word. You giggle even more at the thought of flustering him to the point of cursing.

"What are you laughing at?" Seokmin opens his eyes, so in tune with you that he knows you're hiding a laugh.

"Nothing, Seok." You smile, kissing his neck again as he sighs. "Now let me finish my thought." Seokmin laughs lightly, smile growing wider as you tug at his ears, tracing them softly.

"I love you so much. You're so kind, and funny, and sweet, and understanding, and warm, and loving, and caring, and cheerful, and all mine. All mine." You finish, now just inches away from Seokmin's lips as you look down at them, glossy from your earlier kisses.

"And you're all mine, baby." Seokmin's voice is so low it's a rumble now, and you smile, closing the gap as you close the deal that came with it: you are Seokmin's, and he is yours.

[imstillalexcomic]

I just discovered you and I really love how you like tell your story’s. I am still partially closeted and you inspire me!!

I haven’t seen you say anything (or at least remember you saying anything about this),

But if you don’t mind me asking and it’s not too invasive, do your parents know/ if they do how did they react if you told them?

I wish you the best!!

Not too invasive at all! I wanted to start making comics again to explore my feelings regarding transitioning and to be as visible as I can be. I welcome the questions and want to answer as much as I can as best as I can. There wasn't really any trans media or creators that I was aware of when I was a kid (I'm 36 now), so I want to do what I can to be a resource. Everyone's situations are going to be different so my experiences won't necessarily mean yours will turn out exactly the same, but information can be handy and I certainly wish I had more of it when I was younger.

At some point in the future, I'm planning on having strips dealing with my parents, but a very truncated version of it is the following:

Coming out to my mother was tough since there are a lot of issues there. It was a very long monologue that didn't even get to my gender identity for about 30 minutes, I needed to set the stage for the "coming out" part of the speech.

For the most part, everything went really well! The issues I have with her still exist and likely always will, but she absolutely accepts me. She phrased things something like, "It always seemed like something was bothering you, and I'm glad to finally know now part of what it was." She followed up with saying that she only cares about my happiness and if this is what makes me happy then she's all for it.

As a note, coming out to my mom was preeeeeeeetty recent actually. Outside of my wife, close friends, and twin sister, literally no one else knew until this year when I started transitioning. I only told my mother and in-laws in early November, then the rest of my family at Thanksgiving, then publicly came out with a comic the next day on Friday.

Regarding my dad, well... he passed a little over ten years ago. This is something that I never got the chance to talk with him about. Given the type of person he was, I do genuinely believe that he'd be supportive, but similar to my mom there are issues that would have remained even if he were still around.

Wishing you the best, and thank you for the question!