#and I don’t want to constantly remind her cause she had enough on her mind and I’m usually in my room anyways

[okcoolthanks]

Sry I was mad at the moment <3 she tries just every now and then it Gets To Me

Holy shit can my mom physically not call me anything other than “she”

[mswritergirl02]

38 Missed calls and Tequila

In which Harry and y/n fight causing her to storm out

-> Reader advisory: mentions of alcohol and explicit language, proceed with caution.

A/N : Taking requests (:

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

Y/N paced back and forth in the living room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I can’t believe you, Harry! You always do this, you never listen to me!”

Harry’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what about you, huh? Do you think you’re always right? You’re so damn stubborn!”

“Well, maybe if you cared about my opinion for once—”

“Care about your opinion? I bend over backwards for you, Y/N! But it’s never enough, is it? You always find something else to complain about!”

“Oh, so now this is all my fault, is it? Typical!”

Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. “For fucks sake I never said that!

Y/N’s voice trembled with anger and hurt as she launched her accusation.

“You know what, Harry? I bet you’re cheating on me, aren’t you? That’s why you’re always so secretive about your phone, always disappearing at odd hours!”

Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious, Y/N? I’ve told you a million times, that I’m not cheating on you! You’re just making things up because you can’t stand losing a fucking argument!”

Y/N’s voice rose at his accusation. “Oh, please! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this! I see the way you look at other girls, Harry! You can’t fool me!”

Harry’s patience snapped, his frustration evident in his tone. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up again! You’re always jumping to conclusions, always looking for a bloody reason to doubt me! Maybe it’s your own insecurities that are driving us apart!”

Y/N’s anger faltered, replaced by a pang of hurt. “I’m not insecure, Harry! I just want to know that I can trust you!”

“Well, maybe if you gave me a chance to prove it instead of constantly accusing me of things I didn’t do!”

“I’ve been nothing but loyal to your crazy ass for four fucking years,” Harry declared, his voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

The tension in the room was thick, each word a painful reminder of the growing rift between them. Y/N’s heart ached with the weight of their words, knowing deep down that her accusations were absurd, Harry loved her. Still she was unable to stop herself from lashing out in a desperate attempt to regain control of the argument.

Y/N's lips curled into a sneer as she spat out, "Go fuck yourself, Harry!"

With that, she snatched her keys off the coffee table and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Harry stared at the closed door, his chest tight with frustration. "You're fucking crazy," he yelled, knowing she couldn't hear him and was long gone. He cursed out loud and sank onto the couch, running his hand over his face.

“A bloody fucking carpet," he muttered to himself, the absurdity of their argument hitting him like a ton of bricks. They had been fighting over a bloody carpet, of all things. It was ridiculous, and yet somehow it had escalated to Y/N storming out in anger.

They hadn't been in the best place lately. Y/N was constantly stressed out at the office, working long hours, barely having time for herself, let alone for him. And Harry, always buried in his work, was rarely home to see her, too caught up in his next album to notice the distance growing between them.

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

12am

38 outgoing calls

Harry’s nerves were on edge. He had called Y/N 38 times since she stormed out, each call going straight to voicemail. It wasn’t like her to stay out this late, and the thought of not knowing where she was made his stomach churn with anxiety.

Pacing back and forth in their empty apartment, Harry’s mind raced with worry. He had grown accustomed to Y/N’s silent treatments during their arguments, but this was different. This silence felt suffocating.

12:30 am

“Answer your phone, Y/N,” Harry muttered under his breath, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. He reached for his phone once again, fingers trembling as he clicked on her contact for the 39th time. But this time, instead of the familiar voicemail greeting, a stranger’s voice answered Y/N’s phone.

As Harry heard the unfamiliar male voice answer Y/N’s phone, his heart raced with a surge of protectiveness. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his tone sharp with urgency. “Why the hell do you have Y/N’s phone? Where is she?”

Before Harry could ask any more questions or receive a response, the phone call ended abruptly.

12:45am

It was around 12:45am when It clicked in Harry’s mind, Y/N had insisted they shared their locations when they first started dating. Harry quickly opened the app on his phone and zoomed in on her location.

Maggies Bar & Grill.

Confusion washed over him when he saw that Y/N was at a bar. Drinking was something she rarely did, especially alone at this hour. Harry’s heart raced with worry, imagining all sorts of worst-case scenarios.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys, and got behind the wheel. He knew he had to reach Y/N as fast as possible.

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

Meanwhile, Y/N found herself in fits of laughter, seated on a bar stool behind the counter of Maggies. With tears of joy rolling down her cheeks, she swiftly grabbed her phone back from the male bartender’s grasp. Giggling, she teasingly whispered, “Don’t tell Harry,” and playfully pressed a finger to her lips.

Earlier, Y/N had confided in the sympathetic bartender about her rocky relationship with Harry. Each heartfelt confession she made was chased down with another shot of tequila, the weight of the world was momentarily lifted by the warmth of the alcohol. What she didn't know was that the bartender discreetly slipped her keys into his pocket when her attention wandered, silently determined to prevent her from making any rash decisions in her inebriated state.

“Y/N, I’m cutting you off,” the bartender said for what felt like the tenth time that night, his tone gentle yet firm. “All you’re getting is water from now on.”

Y/N pouted, shoving the glass of water away. “But I’m having fun!” she protested, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol. “I can handle a few more drinks, I promise.”

The bartender shook his head, a hint of concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t risk serving you any more alcohol. It’s for your own safety.” With that, he gently pushed the glass of water back towards her, silently urging her to hydrate and sober up.

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Y/N slurred, her tone growing more aggressive as she leaned in towards the bartender, her eyes narrowed.

The bartender stood his ground, not going back on his decision. “I’m not serving you any more drinks tonight,” he stated once again.

Y/N’s frustration bubbled over, and she clenched her fists slamming them on the counter. “You can’t cut me off!” she snapped.

Just as Y/N opened her mouth to make a scene once more , Harry entered the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto her. With purpose in his stride, he made his way over to where she sat, his gaze briefly flickering to the bartender.

Harry’s expression was a mix of relief and concern as he approached. “Is everything okay here?” he asked.

The bartender met Harry’s gaze, his expression serious. “Harry I'm assuming? Yeah, everything’s fine now,” he replied, gesturing towards Y/N. “I had to cut her off a while ago. She’s had enough for tonight.” Recognizing Harry by Y/n's lock screen on her phone and his contact name.

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But then who called me from her phone?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he searched for answers.

The bartender hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out Y/N’s keys. “It was me,” he admitted, handing them over to Harry. “I knew she shouldn’t be driving in her condition.”

Relief flooded Harry’s features as he accepted the keys. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, grateful for the bartender’s quick thinking.

Y/N’s drunken aggression flared as Harry turned towards her. “What are you doing here?” she slurred, her tone sharp with irritation.

“I don’t need you babysitting me.”

Of course she's drinking tequila the one thing that brings out her temper even more

Harry cut her off with a stern glare, “Your breath reeks of fucking tequila and you’re in no condition to drive,”.

Y/N turned towards the bartender, “You're a fucking snitch” she accused him loudly causing heads to turn in their direction. Harry’s annoyance grew as he watched her escalate the situation.

“Y/N, you’re causing a fucking scene,” Harry muttered, frustrated to which she scoffed, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet.

She held out her hand. “Give them back. I’m driving myself home, I don’t want to look at you.”

Harry’s heart sank at her words, but he knew he couldn’t let her make such a reckless decision. “I can’t do that, Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer to her. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. Let me take you home.”

Y/N shook her head stubbornly, her anger fueling her determination. “No!” she insisted, her voice rising.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Just give me my keys!”

He was over her drunk antics.

Stepping uncomfortably close to her, he took the time to observe the way her hair fell over her ear. With a firm yet gentle touch, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering for a moment before trailing down her cheek.

Leaning in, Harry's voice dropped to a low and dangerous tone. “Y/N you better listen to me.”

“Drop the fucking attitude,” he snapped his breath sending a shiver down her spine as it brushed against her skin.

Now fully gaining her attention Harry continued speaking. “You're gonna lower your voice and follow me to the car like the good girl I know you are."

Y/n began to feel as if her legs were putty with each word she processed.

“Don't make me embarrass you here love,” he said while running his finger over her bottom lip.

“Because I can and I will.”

Harry's words hung in the air, commanding and unwavering leaving no room for argument.

Masterlist

Lights Out

[zosin-ya]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11 - ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ

Summary: It had been weeks since you had talked to Law, feeling drained from the past events. You needed time to figure the relationship out, which caused you to run away from talking completely and be confronted with a storm, none of you were ready to face.

tags: Law x Reader, Modern AU, angst, a lot of tears baby, confessions,

a/n.: I wanted to write about Law expressing more intense emotions, hope all of you enjoy this cuz I rewrote this so many time ;; (i fkn cried writing this omfg send help;;)

[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

The last two weeks had passed in a haze. You couldn’t quite put words to it. Somewhere between numbness and exhaustion. Since that incident at the ceremony, you kept your distance towards Law, hoping time might help you make sense of things.

Slowly however, you started to question whether this thing with him was worth pursuing. You knew being with Law wouldn’t be easy. You were ready to face any storm he was battling. But the way Law kept you at arm’s length—never letting you in, yet exposing you to his world without a warning—cut deeper than you’d expected. The idea of ending things twisted painfully in your chest; you didn’t want to let him go. But maybe it was for the best… or maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.

“Miss Y/N!”

The sharp voice jolted you back to reality and ripped you out of your thoughts. Startled, you looked up to see the clinical professor staring you down through her thin glasses, an impatient expression on her face. You felt the eyes of your classmates on you as well, and even the patient in the hospital bed, a faint trace of amusement in his gaze. Your stomach twisted with embarrassment as heat crept up your neck.

“I asked you a question,” the professor said, her tone laced with disapproval. “If you’re serious about becoming a doctor, you don’t have the luxury of drifting off in your head.”

The comment stung, and you forced yourself to hold her stern gaze, giving a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Apologies, Professor,” you replied, quickly gathering your focus. “For a Pseudomonas infection, kanamycin.”

The professor’s expression softened slightly as she nodded, and a flicker of approval crossed her face. You’d gotten it right—barely.

Clinic hours were proving to be tougher than you’d expected. Instead of simply memorizing facts, you were constantly moving from one department to another, shadowing doctors, working alongside nurses, and having to think on your feet with real patients in front of you. Every case was a test of your knowledge and intuition, and every question was a reminder that this wasn’t just theory—it was real.

And there was clearly no space to be distracted by personal matters.

With a quiet sigh, you finished up your tasks and left the patient’s room together. The professor gave you a few last-minute reminders, her voice fading into the background as you fought off the wave of fatigue. All you could think about was going home, collapsing onto the couch, grabbing something to eat, and letting your mind go blissfully blank.

As you made your way back to the lockers to hang up your white coat and grab your belongings, a flash of movement caught your eye.

You paused, squinting down the hall, and felt your stomach twist. Just for a second, you thought you saw him. Law.

He passed by with a group of students, their chatter filling the hallway as he trailed a few steps behind. You couldn’t see his face, but his posture told the story—you could tell he was drained. You’d come to know him well enough to notice the subtle signs.

You felt a pang of concern. A part of you wanted to walk over, to stop him, maybe even say something. But then the memories from the ceremony flooded back, bringing with them a surge of tension, of unresolved words and feelings. You hesitated, torn between the impulse to reach out and the instinct to keep your distance.

In the end, you turned away, your heart heavy as you continued down the hallway. The hospital doors closed behind you, a finality that sank in as you stepped into the cool evening.

The walk home was uneventful, the same routine of passing streetlights and faded storefronts. By the time you reached your apartment, you felt like you’d run on autopilot the whole way. You kicked off your shoes, let your bag slide off onto the floor, and grabbed your phone to order takeout. Cooking was out of the question tonight.

The moment you hit the order button, a thought flashed through your mind: there was a chance Law could be the one delivering it. You were pretty sure he still worked that job. For a brief, dizzying second, your heart skipped, a mix of nerves and anticipation stirring in your chest. But you quickly suffocated the feeling, refusing to let your thoughts linger on him. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just an order—nothing more.

“Ah, fuck it,” you muttered, flopping onto the couch with a heavy sigh. You weren’t about to change your plans just because of the awkward, unresolved tension hanging between you two. You knew a conversation was inevitable, but for now, avoiding it seemed easier.

A few quiet minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last, until the doorbell rang, making you jump. You cursed under your breath—maybe you weren’t as good at pretending as you’d thought. The thought that Law might stand in front of your door made you freeze at the spot. The seconds dragged as you sat there, heart pounding, almost daring yourself to ignore it. But the bell rang again, sharper this time, each chime pulling you closer to the reality you were trying to ignore.

You took a deep breath, got up, and crossed the room, your pulse hammering louder with every step. What would you say if he was there? Would he say something, or ignore you completely? Each footfall seemed to echo the questions swirling in your mind, but you shoved them down, focusing on the task at hand. With one last inhale, you gripped the handle and pulled the door open.

...it wasn’t him.

A strange mix of relief and disappointment washed over you as you started at the stranger, hitting harder than you’d expected. You let out the breath you’d been holding, managing a polite smile.

The delivery person gave you a confused look, irritated by how you had just swung open the door and seemed relieved.

Weird chick, he thought, yet stretched out the warm paper bag of food towards you and waited for you to pay.

You took the bag and handed over the money with your usual tip before closing the door. For a moment, you simply stood there, as your heart was slowly settling back to it's calm rhythm. Did you actually want him to show up? You’d been so anxious about it, and yet… here you were, feeling let down that some random guy brought you your food.

Why hadn’t you reached out to him, did you want things to end like this? Law had tried more than once, always patient, until you’d finally told him you needed some time. And, true to his word, he’d respected that boundary, hadn’t pushed or chased after you, as if he understood you better than you understood yourself.

Setting the food on the coffee table, you absentmindedly grabbed your phone and opened your chat with him. The last message was from Law, two weeks ago. Just a single word: "Ok."

Nothing more.

You bit your lip, staring at the empty message box, fingers hovering over the keys. Before you could think about it, your fingers moved on their own.

You typed a simple “Hey,” then deleted it. Typed a different message, something longer, only to erase that too. You could practically feel the weight of the unsent messages pressing down on you, the silence between you two growing louder.

Avoiding him had only made reaching out harder. Now here you were, caught in a web of your own hesitations, unable to even send a god damn text. The thought of finally talking it all through tightened its grip on you, a knot of anxiety you couldn’t shake. You stared at the empty message box, frustrated with yourself, wondering when—if—you’d ever find the words.

“Fucking hell…” you muttered, letting your head drop, shoulders sagging under the weight of this shitshow. You were on the verge of losing him, and that thought scared you more than you’d allowed yourself to admit. You didn’t want things to end, not like this. But you needed answers—an explanation that only Law could give you. And you’d never get it if you kept silent.

A flicker of courage rose within you, shaky but determined.

You typed out a simple, “Can we talk?” and hit send before anxiety could tighten its grip on you again. The message was out there, hanging in the ether between you, irreversible.

Staring at the screen, your heart pounded in your chest, each beat growing louder, more urgent, as you waited. You couldn’t stop your leg from bouncing, a nervous twitch you couldn’t shake. Your eyes stayed glued to the phone, biting your nails, praying he wouldn’t leave you hanging.

A minute passed. Then another. Five minutes.

This was torture.

Frustrated, you tossed your phone aside, hoping the noise of the TV would drown out the growing anxiety. But it didn’t. Your appetite had vanished, and the food sat untouched on the coffee table as you mindlessly flicked through streaming services. Every few minutes, you glanced at your phone, your stomach sinking each time the screen remained dark.

An hour passed, then another. It was getting late, and the hope that he’d respond had dimmed. You were just about to turn off the TV and drag yourself to bed when your phone finally lit up.

"When?"

The message startled you so much that you almost crashed against your coffee table as you reached for your phone. Heart pounding, you unlocked it, fingers hovering as you processed his reply. Before you could reply, the typing bubbles appeared, and you held your breath, leg bouncing in anticipation.

"I have time if it’s not too late."

“Now?”

A pause. Then, simply: "Yea."

You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you stared at his response. This was it. The nerves churned in your stomach, but you felt a small spark of relief—he was willing to talk. You didn’t know where this would go or if it would make things any clearer, but at least you wouldn’t be sitting in silence anymore.

“I'm home. Come over.”

Law arrived quickly. You opened the door, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt heavy, thick with all the words that lingered but hadn’t yet found their way out. His eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you before he looked down.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“...hi."

He slipped off his shoes with a familiar ease but without his usual energy, and you gestured toward the couch. He nodded, moving past you, the faint sound of his footsteps almost disappearing into the silence. You followed, sitting down beside him, both of you careful, leaving a strange, deliberate space between you on the cushions.

Now that he was here, you saw him more clearly. Law looked… rough. Dark circles sat under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and a stubble cast a shadow over his jaw. His eyes were dull, as if they couldn’t bear the weight of whatever he was holding inside. His shoulders slumped, the tension in his frame draining him.

A tense silence stretched between you, filling the room with a charged stillness. Law’s gaze was fixed on his lap, his fingers tracing slow, restless circles on the back of his hand. At first glance, he looked calm, almost still, but a closer look revealed the tension woven into his every movement.

Finally, he drew in a shaky breath, the silence cracking as he let out a heavy sigh. He forced himself to look up, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m sorry…” His voice was low, almost hoarse. “For what happened. For all of it.”

You stayed silent, arms wrapped around yourself as you pulled your legs close. The memory of that day crept back, clear and sharp—the way he’d exposed you to his family’s turmoil without any warning, leaving you to navigate a situation you hadn’t been prepared for. As much as it pained you to see him like this, you still needed answers.

“I’m sorry about…” Law continued, his voice faltering. “...about leaving you alone in that situation.”

You tilted your head slightly, absorbing his words. It wasn’t quite what you’d hoped for. Law, who seemed to understand others so well, still struggled so much with his own emotions. You’d expected him to say more—to address the actual issue.

“...That’s it?” you asked, voice soft but pointed.

Laws eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked almost hurt, like he hadn’t realized how his apology might come up short. He blinked, seemingly searching for what else he could tell you, but for once, he was at a loss. He had two full weeks to think what to say, and the only thing he came up with was a cheap sorry.

“I know what I did was wrong. Just… give me some time to work on it. Please.” His voice softened, almost pleading, his gaze searching yours for a sign of forgiveness.

More time? You bit your lip, hesitating, and the silence seemed to weigh on him, making him sink even deeper into himself. Everything depended on what he had to say, and the start of this conversation wasn't convincing you yet.

“I’ve been patient with you, Law. But … I’m not sure. I don’t even know what we are.” You gave him a sad, brittle smile that faded almost as soon as it formed.

He leaned forward, desperation flickering in his eyes. “You know I care about you,” he said, his voice thick, as if willing you to understand. But his words felt hollow in the face of everything that had happened. This wasn't what you wanted to hear. It was the same answer you had gotten at the ceremony.

“Do I?” Your voice starting to quiver as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. The frustration of him being so emotionally dense was finally catching up to you. “Because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. You left me to fend for myself, in a situation you knew I wasn’t ready for.” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t look away, holding his gaze steady with a simmering mix of pain and defiance.

Fuck.

He was making it worse. Law closed his eyes and let his hand run over his face as if the weight of his own mistakes pressed down on him. Why couldn't he get this right? He wanted to fix this, truly, but he couldn't find the right words to convince you. “I know,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “I know I messed up, alright? But it’s not easy for me.”

"Easy for you?" Your voice trembled as you took a shaky breath, forcing the words out even as anger and hurt fought to spill over. You couldn't believe what you just heard. Was he serious?

"You didn't tell me how fucking crazy your ex was, so crazy that she'd put me into danger just to make sure I was out of the picture. Or that your parents didn’t even know I existed, that they’d look down on me and my friends. And then there’s...,” you said, voice wavering. “There's the way your family looks at Yuki, like she’s everything I’m not. You threw me into all of this without a warning, without even a way to defend myself!"

Law’s expression crumpled, torn between guilt and helplessness as he slightly flinched at every point you made. Valid ones, he had to admit. He looked away, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles went white. He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly wrestling with himself before muttering, “I never wanted it to happen this way.”

“If you actually cared about me, you could have just told me!” You threw your hands up, unable to hide the frustration building inside you, the desperate feeling that no matter what you said, he was refusing to hear you. “If you would have told me I could have prepared myself! I wouldn’t have followed Yuki blindly, I wouldn’t be so fucking hurt at what your parents said! Non of their behavior is your fault, but you made it worse by hiding this from me!”

“Okay, what if I fucking tell you, huh?” Law’s voice rose, the edge sharp, almost dangerous. His eyes flashed, but you didn’t look away, holding your ground. “Tell you how fucked up this whole situation is?” He let out a bitter laugh, almost scoffing at the thought. “You think I’m going to drag you into this shit? This is my burden. I carry it. Not. You.”

His words hung in the air, a raw, jagged tension between you two. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, as if he was trying to push you away—to protect you, or maybe to protect himself.

As much as his words made sense to him, you could see right through them. You knew the damage he was causing by holding onto this alone, and you aimed your response straight at the heart of it.

A scoff escaped you as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “You didn’t drag me in, you threw me into the fire for fucks sake! Multiple times! You are hurting others by trying to handle it alone, can’t you see?“

Your words seemed to knock the wind out of him. His whole posture shifted—his shoulders sagged, his jaw unclenched, and the fire in his gaze softened as he looked at you, stunned, as if he’d never considered this before.

He was hurting you. He’d done this to you.

You could see it—how torn he was. He didn’t want to hurt you, but something deep inside kept him from letting you in. His eyes flickered around the room, as if he could find the answer somewhere in the empty spaces. But there was no escape. He was trapped, caught between the fear of losing you and the fear of letting you get too close.

Swallowing hard, you pushed on. “Why?” you asked, desperate, the question trembling as it escaped. “Why is it so impossible for you to let me in?”

Law stayed silent, but you could see him tense up, his composure unraveling with each word you spoke. His leg bounced restlessly, and his brows knitted together in frustration. It was as if every sentence you spoke struck a nerve, pressing him closer to a breaking point he clearly wasn’t ready for. But you didn’t give in.

“Seriously?” You let out a bitter laugh, a shaky, painful sound as tears streamed over your face. “You’ve had two weeks to think about this, and you still can't tell me?“

He exhaled sharply, looking anywhere but at you, as if his mind was already miles away, trying to escape the conversation. His fingers dug into his knee, and his jaw clenched, but you didn’t waver.

„Why even try to fix something if you can't give me an answer! Why are you even here, Law?”

“Because I fucking love you, okay!”

It ripped out of him like it hurt to say, as if every syllable was dredged up from some dark place he’d kept locked away. His chest heaved with labored breaths, and the walls he’d held up for so long were suddenly, violently crumbling.

You froze, his confession hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. For a moment, you were lost. Completely speechless.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, pulling at it, as he struggled to contain the overwhelming emotions. His voice, now quieter but still shaking with intensity, softened, almost pleading.

"I love you...," he repeated, barely a whisper now, but the words were filled with so much pain it felt like they could break you. "And I can’t… I can’t let you drown in this with me. I can’t watch you suffer with me."

Law took in a shaky breath, you could see tears forming in his eyes, before he hid his face in his palms.

"I don't want you to see me like this-” He broke off, his voice thick with self-loathing, muffled as he whispered, “I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I can barley handle it, how are you supposed to?”

He was unraveling, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Every word seemed to crack something deeper within him, and he looked up, desperation spilling over.

The look he gave you was everything—so broken and vulnerable, that you knew, it would be burned into your memory forever. You saw it then, in his glassy eyes, the battle he was fighting, the fear he couldn’t outrun, the love he didn’t know how to handle nor believed he deserved.

“I want to protect you not hurt you, I-” He shook his head, not able to speak as choked sobs left his throat.

You moved closer, hesitantly reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. Law stiffened, the tension practically vibrating from him, his shoulders hunched, fists still clenched. But he didn’t pull away.

“Law,” you said softly, feeling your own tears slipping down your cheeks. “This isn’t handling it. This is letting it destroy you.”

He looked at you, eyes wide and filled with an almost childlike vulnerability. There was no resistance left, no armor, only the shattered young man he was.

“Let me help you carry it. I can’t stand by and watch you tear yourself apart, just because you think you have to go through it alone.”

He closed his eyes, tears still slipping down his cheek as he let out a broken, shuddering sob. Your words hit deep, right where it hurt the most. He hid his face in his palms again as shame washed over him. He never wanted you to see him like this. But Law couldn't control it any longer. It was too much.

You pulled him into your arms, holding him close as if anchoring him to solid ground.

“Hey… I’m here,” you whispered softly, one hand stroking gently through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on his back. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

Seeing him like this, so raw and vulnerable, hurt to witness—but it also felt like a bittersweet gift, a piece of him he’d never shown anyone else.

You held him close for what felt like forever, letting him pour out everything he’d kept buried, everything he’d held back for so long. His broken sobs, the way his breathing came in ragged gasps, and the warmth of his tears soaking into your shoulder—all of it shattered your heart. Every sound and shudder cut deeper, each one a reminder of the weight he’d been carrying alone.

But you knew you had to hold steady, to be his anchor. Right now, he needed your strength. So you tightened your grip, pressing a gentle hand against his back, letting him know without words that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere.

As Law’s breathing finally steadied after a whil. You loosened your hold on him and slowly pulled away, giving him some space. He rubbed his eyes as he glanced down, a flicker of shame shadowing his gaze. His vulnerability lay bare, and you could tell how uncomfortable it made him, exposing himself like this.

But to you, it was anything but uncomfortable. You reached up and gently cupped his face, your thumbs brushing softly over the rough skin of his cheeks, grounding him. You gave him a small, reassuring smile, letting him see the love in your eyes—the acceptance, the gratitude that he’d let you into this part of him.

“Hey…” you whispered, your voice gentle as you held his gaze, unflinching. “I love you too.”

He looked back at you, and slowly, a weak but genuine smile broke through his exhaustion. He gave a small nod, leaning into the warmth of your touch, his shoulders finally relaxed. And as he let himself fall into the moment, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a kiss so soft and tender, it made your heart ache. It was a promise, an unspoken vow to stand by him through whatever storm lay ahead.

“I won't do this again...I promise.” Law’s voice was tentative, a hint of vulnerability still lacing his words. He knew he owed you more—a real explanation of the tangled mess of his past relationships and complicated family. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but he was determined to get everything out this time, to rip off the bandages before another wound formed. He couldn’t risk putting you in another situation where his silence hurt you.

You nodded slowly. The weight of the conversation hung between you, leaving both of you visibly drained—but Law looked even worse. His eyes were bloodshot from the tears he’d shed, and he was still letting out soft, stifled breaths. He seemed calmer now, the tension in his shoulders released, but he was unmistakably exhausted.

For a while, you both just sat there in silence, staring at the blank TV screen.

“Wanna go to bed?” you asked quietly, your voice soft and reassuring. Law’s gaze flickered to you, and for a moment, something like relief washed over his face.

He couldn’t believe he’d almost lost you because he’d been too closed off, too guarded. His head was still a mess of thoughts, spiraling in countless directions, but he was too worn out to follow any of them. He just nodded and got up with you.

He followed you down the hall, each step heavy and slow, and the confidence he usually carried seemed to be missing. You knew that tonight’s talk hadn’t solved everything—far from it—but it was enough for now.

When you reached the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed as you rummaged through your closet. You found a pair of his spare clothes and tossed them over to him.

Law caught them, looking almost… surprised.

“What?” you asked, a little confused by his expression.

He shrugged, looking down at the clothes in his hands. “Just… kinda thought it was over between us. Figured you’d thrown my stuff out by now.”

You let out a sigh, sitting down beside him. “Couldn’t bring myself to do it,” you admitted. You weren’t holding a grudge against him; you were just hurt. Seeing his things around the apartment while there was so much tension between you had been painful, but even then, you hadn’t wanted to let go completely.

Law twisted the fabric between his fingers, seemingly a bit lost in thoughts as you watched him. His shoulders rose and sank as he let out a sigh.

“Guess I’m just… used to different shit,” he muttered with a short, bitter laugh.

You scooted closer to him, your hand lightly touching his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Wasn’t rare for me to have to grab my stuff off the street after a fight… with her.” He kept his eyes fixed on the clothes in his hands, as though they brought back memories. He wasn't sure if mentioning his Ex was the right thing to do, yet after the conversation he was so drained it just slipped out of his system.

You blinked in surprise. You’d heard bits and pieces about his ex—never anything good—but you’d never understood why he’d stayed with her or endured the emotional punishment she put him through. Law was sharp; he could read people better than anyone. So why had he missed it with her?

“Why?” you asked softly, not accusingly, just… curious. “Why did you stay with her?”

Law’s gaze drifted, his shoulders slumping slightly. Though he wasn’t one to open up nor understand his own feelings too well, he seemed to have thought about this one a lot, maybe even rehearsed the answer to himself. “I met her when someone in my family got sick,” he murmured, a distant look in his eyes. “Guess it was… desperate times.”

You swallowed and didn’t press further. Instead, you watched as he stood up and pulled his hoodie over his head, folding it with that meticulous care he always had. Then, to your surprise, he went on, as if talking helped ease the ache a little.

“It was my sister,” he said, his voice softer now. “There was no cure. And I’d just started uni, miles away from home. I met her around that time. She was…” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “She was a distraction. Gave me comfort when I was too far from my own family. But things… fell apart after my sister passed.”

You felt the weight of his words settle in, understanding now just how much he’d been carrying. The realization hit you hard, and you understood what he meant with not wanting you to drag you down with him.

This was heavy, and you felt it.

“Law…” you whispered, voice choked. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

He nodded and sat back down beside you, running a tired hand through his hair. You deserved to know, especially after what happened moments ago. Even though, exposing himself like this, twisted his gut.

Silence between you settled. Law couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret. He hadn’t meant to leave you speechless. He wanted to tell you about his sister one day, but not like this. Seeing you at a loss for words was exactly what he feared.

Fuck, why did I tell her this out of nowhere?

His teeth grazed the inside of his cheek as doubt crept in. He was starting to feel uneasy about opening up. He could see the empathy in your eyes, the way you seemed to feel even a small piece of his pain—he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to pull you down with him or make you feel sorry for him.

But then, you placed a gentle hand on his cheek, pulling him back from that spiral of doubt. “You should tell me more about your sister sometime." Your touch, light and reassuring, calmed him, and your smile—warm and unwavering—let him know that you could handle this. You weren’t going to pity him or wallow in his grief; you were here to help him bear it, to remind him that he didn’t have to carry it alone.

It was like you were telling him that his memories could stay, just as they were—the good ones to cherish and the bad ones to heal from, but not to hide.

A soft, almost shy smile crept onto his face, the edges of his mouth lifting in a way that was both loving and grateful.

taglist: @mars-mizuko , @tadomikiku , @hopelesslover06 , @loraleiii @mwhahahalasagna , @ttalgi , @metonimia-de-bellota , @parkquimin , @ephemeress , @not-a-glad-gladiator , @littleleelee , @chillerkiller

(Let me know in the comments and I’ll add you)

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real. 

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

~

Part 1 - When They Met

“You want us to… what?” 

“Court. You and me.” 

“Clearly you’ve gone and lost your head.” 

~

Months Before…

Aonung stormed out of his family’s marui after yet another argument with his parents. Their demands were already ridiculous, but their constant reminders at every family meal were becoming annoyingly overwhelming. 

The anger and irritation inside of him was building, festering and threatening to make him do something he knew he’d regret. 

He was also about ready to punch something… Anything!

Clicking his tongue, he called for his skimwing and the second he reached the edge of the pier, he was leaping off and diving into deep crystal waters. Tsaheylu made, and at his command, the water beast shot off, taking him further and further away from his home… away from Awa’atlu. 

Mind distracted in a jumbled mess of fury and frustration over the situation at hand, Aonung let himself be blindly carried through the ocean. 

His parents had given him a deadline to find a woman to court. A woman he was then expected to eventually take as his mate. 

And honestly, it bothered him just how much of a shock the news had caused for him when he was told. Aonung had known all his life it would eventually come- it was expected of him- his birthright. 

But was it worth the pain it came with? 

“You should know better,” his father would say. “Be better.” Aonung was constantly criticized for his training techniques… his life choices, his decisions… his ways. It was, “do as I say,” and “when will you learn?” and… “you disappoint me.”

Nothing was ever good enough!

Words of honor and commitment and duty were forever shoved down his throat at every given opportunity. And although Aonung still considered himself a rebel and a rule breaker in his circle of friends, he was very much stifled and controlled. 

It was why most of his daydreams involved him running away. Daydreams of him leaving behind the duty, and the expectations… the fucking title. 

But he couldn’t leave. 

Tsireya. 

And Khalhan- his little brother. 

Aonung could never desert them. 

Damn his parents. Damn the entire situation. 

Fuck it all. 

~

For the remainder of the day, Aonung spent it by himself. Hidden away, he brooded, wallowing in self pity. It wasn’t until the sky began to change, suns slowly sinking into the sea that he considered leaving his shaded haven. 

A sudden muffled swear however, followed by a thunk, pulled Aonung from his thoughts. He couldn’t fathom who would have possibly ventured this far out to the abandoned, tiny island he considered his own. 

Curious, he climbed over a short wall of moss covered jagged rocks, only to find… a female.

He was unable to see her face from his position, but she was clearly upset, angry even, judging by the way she kicked the canoe that was half docked, half bobbing from the sway of rolling waves. 

“Oh you stupid thing! Couldn’t you have waited until I reached the reef line?” 

He snorted when a curse escaped her again, along with another thump, from the serve of a fierce kick. 

“Having fun there?” he called out. 

She startled at the sound of his voice, flinging her body around, knife drawn from her hip in preparation for danger. 

“Don’t do that!” she hissed when she found that it was just a loitering Na’vi. “I could’ve hurt you, you fool. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.” 

Aonung approached, hands lifted in surrender. The tip of her knife brushed his stomach as his eyes darted between her and the weapon.

Head titled, he noted that she barely reached his chest and her puny blade looked so dull, he was certain she wouldn’t be able to make much- if any damage with it. 

“I highly doubt that, but if it makes you feel any better,” he shrugged, ignoring her pretty scowl as he moved to inspect her canoe. It was laden with laundered items, so with ease, he pulled it all the way onto the shore. “What seems to be the problem with this?”

“It’s got a leak,” she huffed, sheathing her blade. “I tried patching it before I set out this morning, but-” Head snapping toward the sea, she glanced around in immediate panic. “Wait, where are we-” Her stomach dropped at the sight of a significant flag blowing in the far distance. “Are we near Awa’atlu?”

It was only at this question did he take note of the purple and brown string of beads dangling from a lock of her tangled, messy hair. “You’re from the Keftxo village,” he said stupidly. It now made sense to him why she didn’t immediately recognize him. 

She sized him up when her eyes found his own string of blue and brown beads- Awa’atlu beads to be precise- attached to the sheath on his hip- her expression almost daring him to say something. 

And he would have… but for some reason he held his tongue. 

“I… got turned around,” she mumbled, thumbing at a small scar on her shoulder. The almost healed cut had ripped open in her haste to keep both her and her canoe safe. Thankfully it was no longer bleeding. “Riptide, along the eastern sharp rocks.” 

“Riptide?” he repeated in alarm. “Why in Eywa’s name are you even traveling near there?! It’s high tide. Were you trying to get yourself killed?” 

“W- Did you not just hear me say I got turned around and caught in a riptide?!” Tail flickering in annoyance behind her, she gestured to the vast ocean before them. “It’s not as if I had any control! I left Keftxo before dawn and now look where I am! Oh, and I’m fine, by the way. Thank you, for your concern,” she snarked. 

His gaze traveled the length of her body, spotting no other injuries. “Are you really?” he asked sincerely. 

That gave her pause. “Yes.”

He didn’t believe her but accepted her answer anyway. “Alright then.” Kneeling beside her canoe, his brows creased incredulously. “Just how old is this damn thing?”

“It’s fine!” she exclaimed in offense, crouching beside him to inspect the damage. “Only needs a bit of mending.��

“A bit?” He flicked at a thick, crusty patch of reinforcement. “You’re better off without it. I’d scrap it if I were you. One wrong turn along a pier and it be nothing but a pile of fucking splinters.” He snickered. “Who even made this thing? The work is shoddy, a mess of piss poor craftsmanship, sloppy carving. Look- even the design is off. How did you get it to float?” 

Nostrils flaring, her chin jutted out at his words. Aonung was pretty sure he’d be dead if her glare was a dagger. 

She muttered a slew of very creative swear words under her breath that had him raising his brows and while he should’ve been insulted, he was rather impressed. 

“Scrap it… scrap it?! I’ll have you know, I fixed it up myself! This canoe was specially gifted to my father by council elder Fjid!”

Aonung snorted. “Fjid?! The old man hasn’t been on the council in over a decade. And what does he know about canoes? Last time I saw him, he could barely tie a knot.”

“I know we just met, but does anything good ever come out of your mouth?” 

“Actually. I’ve heard my tongue does wonders,” he boasted cockily, tracing the tip of said tongue along his bottom lip sensually.

Instead of swooning or blushing like he thought she would, revolution clouded her features. It threw him off honestly. 

“Who is the nearest mender in your village?” 

Aonung blinked. “W- I can mend it for you,” he offered, getting to his feet quickly when she looked about ready to dive out. 

“No, thank you… Mender?” 

“Wait…” He pointed to himself, baffled by her reaction to him. “Are you upset with me?” 

“Hm, let me think,” she hummed sarcastically, pretending to ponder. “I almost died from a riptide, got washed up near Awa’atlu of all villages. My canoe has a gaping hole in it and the first person I’ve come across who I thought could maybe, possibly help me, insults its craftsmanship and tried to crudely insinuate that I let him please me with his so-called wonderous tongue… So, yes. I’d dare say I am upset with you.”

She blew out a gush of air. “Now… would you please tell me where I can find your nearest mender.” 

~

Aonung led her to a marui on the outskirts of his village where many canoes were lined docked along the pier it was connected to. 

All the while throughout their journey there, he couldn’t help tossing glances at his new found companion. A companion he found to be scruffy and slightly volatile… but also… pretty. Very pretty.  

Her reactions towards him were slightly refreshing- she clearly didn’t know who he was- status included - something he was keen to keep hidden from her for a bit longer for some reason. 

He found great amusement every time she caught him staring- her face morphing into an unimpressed scowl that most definitely read, fuck off… He was right, because a second later she was signing those two words right at him and speeding past, purposely sending a wave of water his way.

Oh he liked her alright.  

Was it terrible that he loved pissing her off? That scowl did it for him, honestly, especially the one she gave him after he’d caught up and yanked on her tail, signaling that they had to travel in the opposite direction. 

When they’d reached the shoreline, her annoyance towards his theatrics had subsided. Distracted, it was evident that she was trying not to gape at her surroundings, and failing to. 

Unbeknownst to him, Awa’atlu was in every way different from the little village she’d grown up in. While of course there were some similarities, Awa’atlu screamed life- brightness, adventure… promise. 

His companion was so rapt up with her awed surveying that Aonung was secretly glad she missed the few passerby’s reactions to him. 

Two women he'd slept with on two separate occasions, flirtatiously waved at him. And then there were also the overly respectful nods and gestures from others that were becoming obvious.

Desperate to avoid running into anyone who’d try to stop and chat, Aonung gently tugged on her elbow to change their direction. “This way.” 

~

The mender available to help seemed rather enthralled by the pair that had come to visit him that day. 

Hythspon, while no longer in his youth, but nowhere near considered old, stood for a full solid ten minutes watching the bickering two hurl snides and sly comments to each other, all while trying to come to a decision. 

His future chief wanted the Keftxo female to leave with one of the newly crafted canoes Hythspon had available, while the unnamed metkayina wanted to simply have her own canoe mended and be on her way. 

“I told you already, the thing is a deathtrap! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Because at this rate, I’m starting to think you are!”

“It’s not a deathtrap!”

“It is!”

“Not! It’s perfectly fine!”

“So perfectly fine that it almost killed you?! Sorry, gorgeous but you need to let it go. It’s time.”

“No. No, no. The riptide almost killed me, skxawng, the riptide! And for future encounters, the decent thing to do would be to ask about someone’s well being after facing a catastrophe like that! Not, lecture them as if they're stupid!” 

“Well you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if you had ditched the fucking thing and worried about your own life! You seemed to think so too since I found you kicking and swearing at it!” 

“I already apologized for the kicking!”

“Yo- you,” he spluttered incredulously. “Did you actually apologize to a pile of splinters?”

“Canoe!”

“Deathtrap!” 

“It just needs a little love and care, I told you!”

“Aha! Love and care? I’m sorry, gorgeous but that thing is way past love and care.”

“That’s the second time you’ve done that now. Stop calling me that!”

Anoung paused… then, head tilted, he grinned wickedly. “Gorgeous.”

“UGH! Why do you insist on behaving like such an annoying little kit?! Even my brother is more mature than you and he’s eight!” 

“Oh-ho! So me trying to stop you from harm's way is-”

The clearing of a deep throat halted their argument and also made them simultaneously straighten up and put a little distance between them. At some point during their feud, they’d ended up merely inches apart. 

“Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed this rather entertaining ordeal,” Hythspon chucked, “I would like to get on with the rest of my day.” 

“Right, sorry,” she mumbled in embarrassment, tail curled as though she wanted to hide herself behind it. 

Hythspon’s solution in the end was to loan her a canoe. He’d have someone find her own and promised to mend it to his best and then have it returned to her- which she was ever grateful for.

That left Aonung with nothing else to argue about and the minute Hythspon gave her an oar, she was dashing off. Before he could think of running after her, she stopped abruptly at the marui’s threshold and pivoted. 

“Um, thank you. For your help… skxawng.”

“You’re welcome… gorgeous.”

She scowled, but he didn’t miss the tiny twitch of her mouth. He probably imagined it but he thought for the briefest moment that she’d almost smiled.  

Walking along the pier, Aonung watched her row until her silhouette faded into nothing more than a blob in the distance. Confused by the unknown churning he felt in his chest, he shook his head and finally turned away. 

It wasn’t until later that night as he waited for sleep to claim him, that he realized something…

He hadn’t gotten her name. 

~ 

In the blink of an eye life went on. 

The Sullys were gone and a few months later, Awa’atlu received word that Xilä- Neteyam’s mate had given birth to a healthy baby boy. 

Left behind was Lo’ak of course, who’d decided to stay at Awa’atlu for good. Much to no one’s surprise, the forest boy was officially courting Aonung’s sister, Tsireya. 

Whilst Aonung and Lo’ak had started off on rocky footing initially, they both had quickly overcome it in their youth, and dare say even become close friends since then.

And even though Aonung’s immediate confidant was Rotxo, Aonung found himself confiding in the Sully brothers more often than not. 

Neteyam had given him some good advice when Aonung had first opened up about his worries to find a mate. Advice that he was actively trying to practice. Neteyam had told him not to look- not to stress and worry. That Eywa would show him the way eventually… But his patience was wearing thin and time was also running out. 

Arguments with his parents had intensified and the gossip and whispers about his “playmate” days being over, had spread. Though it was the truth. 

Gone were the days and nights of fucking and fooling around with playmate after playmate. He hadn’t been with a woman since after Neteyam’s chat with him that night. 

It was harder than he thought- not getting his dick wet on the regular. Not only was it painful at times and he had to get rather acquainted with right hand, but it also put him in a foul mood most days. 

Aonung was secretly proud of himself however. Every time temptation tried to lure him, he didn’t give in. He was serious. He was trying… Even though he had his doubts. 

And then, just like that, his year was up. 

And still no woman from Eywa. 

~

“Bro… Are you shitting with me right now?”

A disgusted expression formed on Aonung’s face. “I do not shit with you, brother.” He shook his head. “Your human sayings are quite vulgar, do you know that?”

Lo’ak ignored him, focusing instead on the bombshell of a confession Aonung had just shared. “Can we go back to the part where you said you lied to your parents about having a courting partner?” 

Aonung grimaced. Not only because the words sounded just as bad coming from Lo’ak’s mouth, but also from the sour flavor of the pungent booze he and his friend were passing back and forth. 

“I didn’t know what else to do.” His jaw clenched at the thought of the tongue lashing he was in for when the time came for him to confess. 

Ronal had the spirit of the Great Mother running through her veins. Aonung knew his mother didn’t believe him when he’d told her his news earlier that day. 

Fuck. 

“Okay. Let’s start over, man. Why would you even do that?”

Right. Lo’ak didn’t know everything. Neteyam did.

Slightly tipsy as he and Lo’ak sat along the shoreline, waves kissing their feet, Aonung divulged, telling his friend every detail all over again, because, what else was there for him to do?

“Damn, that’s just… damn.” Lo’ak sighed, slightly stunned by the angry rant Aonung had just given. “You’re lucky it’s not as bad as Neteyam- he had a fucking blood oath.” He winced at his choice of words. “Sorry, cuz.” 

Aonung paid him no mind however, his gaze instead distracted and locked on the horizon before them as Lo’ak went on a long winded rant of his own.

“- all one fucking mess, this whole elders’ tradition thing. If you ask me, brother, I’d just get some poor girl to pretend to be in love with me- ya know, appease the parents, then just have her break your heart… and then-” Lo’ak drank another healthy mouthful of their booze, “and then everyone would feel so sorry for your moping ass, they’d give you a break over this whole courting thing… I’m sure of it.” 

Aonung’s head snapped to his friend, slightly stunned. 

“What?” Lo’ak glanced behind him for good measure, but nope, Fishlips was staring at him. “What?” he asked again.

“That’s… that’s actually a good idea.” 

“The shit I just spewed?”

Aonung cursed at the burn from anther sip of the liquid he swallowed. Why was it worse each time? “Yeah. I think I’ll just do that.”

Lo’ak plucked his bottom lip in thought. His mind was hazy but not that hazy. He probably hadn’t heard right. “Pfft. You’re yanking my tail.”

“No, I’m serious,” Aonung said, sitting up as his mind started whirling. He twisted to face the Sully man, taking another shot of the disgusting, throat burning spirits. “It’s the perfect plan. Just before the formal ceremony, I’ll have her break it off, but by then I’d have “fallen in love”… My parents wouldn’t push anyone on me after something like that.”

“Dude… I was fucking joking,” Lo’ak emphasized. Then, paying attention to the determined look on the man’s face, Lo’ak shoved his shoulder. “Skxawng, you’re not seriously thinking of going through with this?”

“Why not? It’s good advice- Hey! I was going to drink that!”

Lo’ak had snatched the waterskin they hid their liquid stash in. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Fuck you.”

Facing the metkayina man fully, the omaticaya shook his head. “Listen… back at Home Camp, there’s a saying, don’t ever take advice from Lo’ak. Now usually I’d be offended, but right now, I think you should listen to the masses… Also, I’m pretty sure you’re drunk. Better yet, we're both drunk.”

Aonung waved him off. “Lo’ak. This plan could actually work.” 

“It could also blow up in your face.”

“Then that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You’re that desperate?! Reya’s got so many female friends, why don’t you-”

“No. I wouldn’t ask that of my sister. I know myself and it’s this unspoken rule between us anyway. I don’t play around with her friends, and she stays clear of mine- even if she’s never been like that- like me.”

“Nice. Guess I’m the exception then?” Lo’ak grinned. 

“You’re not my friend,” Aonung deadpanned. 

“Ouch!” Lo’ak pretended to be hurt. 

“Are you going to help me with this or not?” 

“Dude, I really love your sister. And I’d really like to stay on good terms with your parents, you know, so they’d let me continue to court her?! If they knew I helped you with this they’d toss me back to the forest before I could even plead my case!” 

Aonung squinted at him. “Tsireya’s made you soft,” he taunted. 

“Nice try, but I have two new badass tats that say otherwise,” he replied, gesturing to the intricate ink that adorned his left arm, and right shoulder.

The corner of Aonung’s lips twitched. He was secretly proud of the forest boy. Lo’ak impressed them all with his determination to learn their metkayina customs.

He’d been through grueling challenges that endangered his life and partook in lengthy, traditional ceremonies all for the chance of love. All for Tsireya. No wonder it was so easy for Aonung to approve of their match. 

Lo’ak blew out a breath and handed the booze back to his friend who took a swig. “Alright then, let’s do this fucking thing.” 

“That was fast. What changed your mind?”

“I know too much. Your parents will kill me either way, especially if they knew I didn’t do anything to stop you. So, let’s get to planning properly so they don’t find out.”

“Let’s hear it then. What’s first?”

Lo’ak thrummed his bottom lip again. “First things first, we need to find you a woman. Should be easy to help you get a willing partner, you’ve already got so many swatting at your tail.” 

“No,” Aonung shook his head, eyes glassy in the moonlight. “It can’t be one of them. They’d think they could handle it but they’d also think they could change me. Make me fall for them. I’m not stupid.”

“Nope,” Lo’ak agreed. “You’re just a cocky bastard… a fucking fishlip skxawng if you ask me,” he mumbled.

“Skxawng…” Revelation formed on Aonung’s face. “I think I know the perfect woman.” 

~

Ayelýn was furiously scrubbing at a filthy mat someone had brought in. Frustrated, she cursed at whatever substance had left such a stain, praying it wasn’t blood… or worse. 

Thankfully it didn’t smell like either. 

She wiped at her brow, and blew out a breath toward a stubborn loc of hair that refused to be confined in her tie. This would be her last article to clean for the day. 

If she could just get the stain out. 

Scrubbing until her already bruised knuckles blistered, Ayelýn tuned out the sounds of the village around her. 

Keftxo, was the smallest and last in the chain of fifty islands occupied by the metkayina people. Hearing countless whispers and rumored talk when she was growing up, Ayelýn found out that Keftxo, was sadly known as “the lesser” island. That included the reef people inhabiting it, also.

Despite learning this, her parents taught her to never be ashamed of being from here. It was full of the hardest working Na’vi, Na’vi who undertook jobs that may not have been the most grand but were no less important than any other. 

Life in her little village was all hard work most days. Her duty, along with a handful of others was the grueling job known as a scrubber. 

Everyday, canoes from their neighboring villages were filled to the brim with tarps, sleeping mats, hammocks, heavy fishing nets, tapestries and harnesses. And everyday she would spend hours scrubbing them clean. 

She’d just added another sweet smelling soap spud directly to the already almost potent concoction she’d formed for this one mat, hoping the concentrated effects would aid in her task, when a familiar fine voice called her name. 

“Lýn! Lýn!” Kaiiff, her little brother excitedly bounced into the marui she was in, boxy grin wide. “You won’t believe this! We have a visitor from Awa’atlu and I think he’s asking for you!”

Wiping sweat from her brow again, and mostly likely smearing herself with soap studs, Ayelýn began to rinse out the stubborn article. “No one from Awa’atlu knows who I am, Kaii,” she said with a forced smile, trying to mask her tiredness from the ball of life in front of her. 

“Lýnnn, I’m serious. He described you perfectly. Asked for a puny, scowling female and even said you have a tiny scar on your left shoulder. At least that’s what Talu said he was asking for. And who else in the village could that be?” 

Ayelýn paid full attention to her brother now, brows scrunched in confusion. Before she could ask, two individuals were entering the marui behind her brother, flanked by a very obvious crowd of onlookers behind them. 

Her father seemed uneasy as he approached her, suspicious eyes flickering from her to the man following close behind him.

“You!” her lips spat in fury before her brain could comprehend who exactly she was seeing. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” the familiar stranger greeted- rather loudly too, once again with that stupid smirk of his. 

“Ayelýn?” her father called. “You know the Olo'eyktan’s son?”

Ayelýn audibly inhaled- shock clouding her features at the revelation that the wall of a man before her- the man she’d practically insulted quite a few many times now, was none other than their Olo'eyktan’s son. 

Aonung…

Ripples of not so hushed whispers from Lýn’s workmates echoed behind her as her face paled in mortification. Despite the reveal, she had never wanted nothing more than to punch the stupid smug smirk off his face, mirth dancing in his eyes because he knew… that she knew now. 

“Ayelýn,” he voiced as though testing it out- her name sounding sinful coming from his lips. 

Time seemed to have sped up, because in a matter of seconds, quite a few things happened.

The first being, Aonung’s surprisingly pleasant introduction with her younger brother and her mother, who’d quietly snuck into the mix as well- her cheeks tinting as she bashfully patted Aonung on the arm for thinking that she was Lýn’s older sister and not her mother. 

Having enough, Ayelýn snapped rather rudely, interrupting their small talk. “What are you doing here?” 

“Ayelýn,” her mother hissed in disbelief. “Have some respect.”

“Sa'nok, you don’t under-”

“No, it’s okay. I know my presence is a bit of a surprise… I was actually hoping to have a word with your daughter, if you’d allow me,” Aonung directed to her parents, tone dripping in charm Ayelýn knew was probably- most likely all an act. “Somewhere private if possible?”

“Oh! O-of course, of course,” Bwena replied, grin stretching so wide that Ayelýn thought her mother’s face must hurt. She was ever eager to encourage whatever was happening here. “You may use our marui. Ayelýn will show you! Go on, Lýn,” her mother quipped, bodily shuffling her forward and even taking a fast second to try to hastily wipe away a streak of soap residue from her brow. 

“No- wait-”

Protesting was futile because before she knew it, Ayelýn found herself in her family’s shabby but quaint, tiny marui- quite alone with a towering Na’vi and his stupid smirking mouth. 

It annoyed her how much he was enjoying this- whatever this was.

Her eyes tracked his every move as he observed her home. It wasn’t as nice or grand or even tidy like the ones she’d snuck glances into during her brief visit to Awa’atlu, and she suddenly found herself feeling self conscious- lesser than… and she hated herself for it. 

When he finally returned his attention to her, his lips did a funny little quirk as though he were trying not to laugh.

“What?” she snapped.

Instead of responding, he snagged a cloth from a line of clean drying articles and approached cautiously, surprising her when he began to gently wipe at her brow and down her cheek. His other hand held her chin in place, thumb and forefinger keeping her still as he worked in silence. 

Ayelýn didn’t know why she allowed him, but something gave her pause… maybe it was the way his smell attacked her senses- salt and spice and comfort. 

“There you go,” he hushed, voice rumbling deep and wrong. “All pretty again.”

Senses betraying her, she forced herself to take a step back. “What are you doing here, Aonung?”

“Looking for you.”

“Mm, I gathered… You’ve created quite the spectacle and now it will be all my village talks about until I’m frail and old.”

“That’s dramatic… and presumptuous of you.”

“Presumptuous? Me? Oh-” she scoffed. Oh the nerve of him. “I have lived here all my life and I have never seen you step foot in Keftxo. You’re the one that walked into my village- like you own it mind you-” She gave him a flashing warning glare when he tried to rebut, because technically he did own her village. “-looking for me! Can we get this over with so you can be on your way? What do you want?” 

Mouth set, he shrugged casually. “I want us to form a courtship. A formal one.”

When Ayelýn didn’t answer, his head tilted, trying to catch her attention as he poked her shoulder. “Did you hear me, gorgeous?”

“Hm? Oh yes, I did. Nice joke. I'm just too tired to laugh though. Now what do you really want?”

“I’m… not joking,” he enunciated slowly, peering at her in concern, as if she were the one saying crazy things. “I want us to court and-”

“You want us to… what?” 

“Court… You and me.” 

Ayelýn snorted. “Clearly you’ve gone and lost your head.” But something about the way he kept staring at her however popped the amusement bubbling at her chest. “You’re being serious right now, aren’t you?” 

He nodded. 

And for the first time, she saw his sincerity shining through.

“So, what do you say, Lýn?” he asked with an expectant smile, using her nickname as though they were old friends.

“Absolutely not!”

~

Hey, you lovey people!

I’m sure you all know the drill by now, please let me know what you think. 💛

Parts 2 & 3 are mostly complete and just need a full edit, so be sure to share anything in particular you’d like to see happen.

~

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 55 ~ Moonshine and Memories

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Word Count : 6.2k

In this chapter ~ Exhaustion begins to consume Daryl as the days turned into weeks, dragging Beth right along with him as he continued with determination. Though when they finally settle down for a much needed break, things don’t go according to plan as the situation quickly escalates into a screaming match. Taking every little thing out on each other from the pent up frustration. But in the end, it somehow shined a light on a new understanding for one another.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ THIRD PERSON POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*

Days passed by, and there was still no sign of Rose, but that sure as hell didn't stop Daryl from looking. He and Beth had hardly spoken a single word to each other ever since the night Beth brought her up whilst they sat by the fire, knowingly avoiding each other like a disease. Rose was a touchy subject for the both of them, but it seemed to be even more sensitive for Daryl, though Beth just couldn't figure out why. She told herself that he might've felt guilty that he couldn't keep her safe when the shit hit the fan, but there was definitely more to the story.

As the endless hours continued, it was definitely starting to take some kind of a toll on each of their mindsets. One they didn't expect. It was no secret Beth was the more positive one between the two, but even she was starting to lose hope. After not having found anything in this endless abyss of a forest, she found it harder and harder to stay positive. She would never let Daryl see that however, because she didn't want to admit it to him, let alone admit it herself.

Daryl on the other hand felt numb. So numb that if lightning struck him, he was sure he wouldn't feel a damn thing. He had hardly stopped moving as the search continued, with the exception of taking a break to eat or sleep, other than that, they were constantly on the move. It surprised him though when Beth eventually stopped trying to talk to him. He thought that maybe she finally got the hint that he didn't want to speak at all in general, not having enough energy to even try as they truly pushed themselves to the limit.

Although he didn't let his mind linger on this thought for very long, he slowly found himself considering the possibility that Rose was dead. It was only a split second, but it crossed his mind nonetheless. However, he had to remind himself that she was probably the strongest person he ever knew, she could survive on her own if she needed to. Oh, but he prayed that she wasn't alone. He prayed that maybe she found some of the others and was safe with them, having someone trustworthy watching her back. But at this point, that was just wishful thinking.

The unlikely pair were currently sitting across from each other, resting a bit as they ate a rattlesnake that Daryl killed and skinned. Beth was hesitant to eat it as she stared at the mushy looking meat, but food was food. Although she couldn't help but stare at first when Daryl started inhaling the snake as if it were his last meal, her mouth parting a little in disgust.

The truth was he wasn't eating fast because he was starving, he was eating fast so they could get back on the road. The guilt he felt was beginning to be unbearable, wanting nothing more than to be able to keep his promise to her. He told her he wouldn't stop, and he wasn't going to.

After Beth finished up half of what she could stomach, she put the rest down as Daryl was just finishing up, and an idea came to her. "I need a drink." she said.

Daryl didn't look up from his meal as he threw a bottle of water in her direction, continuing to shovel the food down quickly. She scoffed and pushed the carton away, "No, I mean a real drink. Like alcohol."

He still ignored her, but she continued, "I've never had one, cause of my dad. But he's not exactly around anymore so..." she trailed off, "I thought we could go find some."

The man still didn't look up at her as he finished his food, causing Beth to sigh as she racked her brain to try and get his attention. She contemplated throwing something at him, but that probably wouldn't end very well. Though she also didn't want to just leave on her own, knowing that he wouldn't follow after her as his sole focus was always on finding Rose.

But then that's when it hit her...Rose.

"Rose." she said simply and not a second later, his eyes snapped up to her as he stopped mid chew.

It amazed her that all she had to say was her name, and that's what would get him to stop for anything. She was finally starting to understand that Rose had his entire heart in the palm of her hand. She knew that he loved her and everything, but this was a whole new level of love that Beth never got to see before in her whole life. And it brought a small smile to her face despite the situation.

Daryl however was angry. He was pissed at her for wanting to get a damn drink in the first place when there were other things they should be doing. Not only that, but she mentioned the one name that clearly hurt him the most, piercing through his heart painfully. He didn't understand what she was trying to achieve, but he sure as hell wasn't going to listen to a stupid teenager who wanted to get wasted.

"That got your attention," she muttered before standing up to her feet, "Come on, we can't just sit here. We might as well do something."

His patience was growing thinner and thinner as he threw the rest of the snake on the ground and stood up as well, "We are doin somethin." he growled.

He then bent down to grab his crossbow before heading off without another word. Beth huffed and stood there for a few more seconds before reluctantly gathering her stuff as well and followed in the same direction. All the girl wanted was a simple drink so she could actually calm down and loosen up a little, and she thought that was something Daryl could use too. She noticed the bags under his eyes and how he walked slower and slower with each passing day, knowing he wasn't sleeping. Maybe a drink would help him rest, help ease his mind for the first time in days.

So, after taking a small breath, she gained the courage to step in front of him to stop him in his tracks.

"The hell ya doin? Move." he demanded as he shoved past her.

She huffed again, moving quickly to catch up and stand in front of him once more, "Just one drink, we both need it." she pleaded.

"Don't you tell me what I need." he snapped.

"Please...you've been killing yourself trying to find her, and you've barely gotten any sleep at all. God forbid I care about your wellbeing. Maybe a drink would help?"

Daryl had no idea how far back on the road she lost her mind, but it had to be recently. He couldn't believe what she was trying to get him to do. A drink wouldn't do anything but cause them more problems, and he felt himself getting more frustrated at the fact that she was standing in his way, purposefully wasting time like a five year old not getting what she wanted.

"We ain't gettin no damn-" he started to yell, but then suddenly stopped himself short.

He hadn't thought this clearly in a long time, but an idea popped into his head. The cabin he and Rose stayed at after he proposed to her. She could've been there at some point, meaning he could pick up her tracks from there. And Beth could get a drink she so "desperately" needed. It was a perfect way to find her trail and get Beth to shut the hell up.

"Come on." he mumbled much more calmly, which caused Beth to raise an eyebrow, hesitantly following behind.

They trudged through the woods and Daryl remembered exactly where it was. It was closer than he could recall, but judging by the exhausted look on Beth's face when they were almost there, it might've been farther than he realized. It was like tunnel vision as he moved quickly to the destination, desperately wanting to know if she passed by, leaving any type of sign that she was alive.

Beth didn't know what had gotten into him, but she somehow kept up with his fast figure until they ended up at a small cabin in the middle of the woods. The house looked cozy yet abandoned, watching as a ghost of a smile appeared on Daryl's face as he stared at the tiny house, memories clearly flooding back into his mind.

He stood there for a moment, recalling how surprised she was when just looking at the outside of the structure, and how he carried her through the front door, making her laugh. He missed her laugh. It was something that made his heart flutter from the very start, even before his feelings developed. The delightful sound was like music to his ears, even finding himself telling her that many times before. Though as cheesy as it was, it couldn't have been truer.

He quickly walked up to the door and opened it loudly, his crossbow aimed high for any walkers that could've gotten in there. And the slight chance she was in there, he wanted to let her hear his presence.

"Rosie?" he called out softly, but was only met with silence.

He sighed sadly, not even noticing Beth standing a little further behind him in the doorway as he called out to her. Though he suddenly walked back outside, brushing past the girl to scan the area for any kind of tracks that she could've left behind.

Watching as he lingered around the area for a moment, Beth finally walked in further to check the place out. To her little-known knowledge, this had obviously been a place Rose had been before if Daryl thought there was a chance of her hiding out in the small house, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a bit saddened. She had mentally crossed her fingers that they would find her here, the disappointment she felt now prominent in her chest.

It took him longer than he would've liked as his eyes scanned the ground like a lunatic, but he wanted to be thorough. He checked every square inch around the outside of the cabin for any tracks, but all he found were old walker footprints that were caked in the dirt. This didn't help his anxious state one bit, leaving him defeated as he slowly made his way back inside to see Beth standing in the living room, looking around somewhat awkwardly.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the room on the left caught his eye. The room that they spent the night in. He debated on whether or not he wanted to go in there, simply because he didn't even know if he could handle it. But he found his feet had a mind of their own as he slowly approached the door mindlessly.

His palm pushed it open hesitantly, only to see it was exactly how they left it. The bed was still messy, the wine glasses were still scattered on the carpet, and their initials were still carved into the wood on the door. He remembered he did that right at the last minute before they left to head back to the prison. It was almost like he did it because he wanted any other people who passed by to know that this was their place. Even if those people didn't know who the hell they were, the message was still there. His eyes stung a little as he rubbed his thumb gently over the letters, before making his way further inside.

The memories washed over him like a tidal wave as he stared at the bed. Memories of her giggling at the soft kisses he planted on her face, memories of her sweet words she whispered in his ear. He remembered how shocked he was when he fell even more in love with her that night. He could've sworn that it wasn't even possible, but yet it happened. She was like a drug, and he found himself hopelessly addicted. He missed her more than anything, feeling like he truly wasn't the same without her, and Beth was witnessing that firsthand.

Beth never saw Daryl as a bad guy, but she came to the realization that she only ever knew him when he was with Rose. Like a package deal. Though seeing him now without her by his side, she knew now how much he wasn't himself. It was like she was his other half, the half he couldn't seem to live without.

Daryl eventually made his way back out into the living room where Beth was still lingering, waiting for him, and made his way towards the kitchen to get the liquor she wanted. He remembered Rose finding some moonshine right before they left the cabin to go back home, assuming that it shouldn't be too bad for her first drink, especially if she wanted something strong.

He whistled to grab her attention, and she walked over to where he was standing with her arms hanging at her sides. Daryl picked up a glass and blew out the dust that collected in the bottom of it before opening one of the jars and pouring her a decent amount.

He placed it down on the table with a small slam, sliding it over towards her, "There's your drink." he said almost bitterly.

She took it delicately in her hands, "What is it?"

"Moonshine." he said simply, but he watched as she continued to eye the liquid cautiously, almost wanting to change her mind. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing...it's just...my dad always said drinking bad moonshine could make you go blind."

He scoffed, "Well...ain't nothin worth seein out there anymore anyway."

Beth knew she didn't really have a lot of options, knowing that he fulfilled her request in finding her some kind of drink. Even though the reason he led them here in the first place was to find Rose, he still did what she asked for. So, she raised the glass to her mouth and took a small sip of the liquid, making a face as soon as the taste hit her tongue.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted." she said.

Daryl just raised his eyebrows, giving her a look like he didn't know what else she expected, but she ignored it. She then downed the rest of it despite the nasty taste it left in her mouth, reaching over for the glass jar to pour more into her cup.

"Slow down." Daryl advised.

She finished transferring a little in the glass, "This one's for you."

"Nah, I'm good." he said with a shake of his head.

"Why?"

He scoffed, "Someone's gotta keep watch while ya have yer little pity party."

Beth didn't want him to drink until he got wasted, she just wanted him to give in and have a little to try and put a stop to his constant loud thoughts. Even if it was just for a few minutes. In the back of her mind that's what she was doing too, because she couldn't stop worrying.

"So what, you're like my chaperone now?" she asked with a raised brow.

He just glared at her, "Hurry up so we can go."

Daryl moved to sit himself down on the couch in the living room just a few feet away, beginning to fiddle with his crossbow. He needed something to keep himself occupied otherwise he knew he would start to get too impatient with how long she was taking. But in the back of his mind, he knew they needed a little break. They had been doing this for days without proper rest, and he honestly didn't know how Beth was still following him at this point.

Though suddenly the sound of a walker from just outside caught both of their attention, though it didn't sound like it was banging on the door. Instead the sound was faint, and Daryl assumed the corpse would just pass by if they were quiet enough and stayed inside. He got up to double check, seeing it was a lone dead one just outside of the window.

"It's just one of em." he told Beth, continuing to watch it as he peered through the curtain.

She got up from where she sat, "Should we get it?"

"If it keeps makin too much noise, yeah."

Beth looked down at the moonshine in her hands with a nod before speaking again, "Well, if we're gonna be trapped again we might as well make the best of it." she voiced, placing her glass on the coffee table while picking up another jar of alcohol, extending it over to him, "Just one drink."

"I already told ya no." he snapped, "Didn't think you would be the one ta peer pressure me." he spoke ironically.

She sighed, "I'm not peer pressuring you, I'm trying to help you."

"Yeah, well ya know what's not helpin? Stayin in here, when we should be lookin out there." he pointed out the window as he spoke the last words, emphasizing his point.

She took a big deep breath, trying to calm down from this man's stubbornness. He had no idea just how much she wanted to find Rose, but they needed a break. They had just been going and going for ages, without even seeing a single sign that she was ever around in the area. There was nothing, other than the pretty purple clip that he found in the beginning.

"I'm tired Daryl," she spoke softly, "And I know you are too. So please, just take a break...have a drink...and we can head back on the road before you know it."

He stared at the moonshine in her hands for a long while, thinking silently to himself though he really just wanted to smack the jar right out of her hands. But he didn't. He instead snatched it from her harshly with a glare, looking down to the clear liquid with a huff.

He didn't want to admit it to himself to seem weak, but he truly was exhausted. He had hardly gotten any sleep these past few days, pushing his body to the limits as he tried to keep going. Maybe a drink would calm him down. But he wouldn't waste any more time than they needed. One drink, before they would be right back on the road.

It took a lot of convincing, almost like pulling teeth, but somehow, Beth talked Daryl into playing a drinking game with her to try and have some fun. The man didn't want to waste any more time with how long they had spent in the cabin already...even though it had just been an hour. But eventually, she won him over when she told him they would only play for a few minutes.

They were sitting across from each other with jars of moonshine sitting on the coffee table in front of them, playing never have I ever.

"So, first I say something I've never done, and if you've done it you drink, and if you haven't, I drink. Then we switch." Beth explained, "You really don't know this game?"

"I ain't never needed a game to get lit before." Daryl muttered.

"Wait, are we starting?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "How do you know this game?"

"My friends played, I watched. Okay, I'll start...I've never shot a crossbow. So, now you would drink." she said.

Daryl scoffed and brought the liquor to his lips, "Ain't much of a game." he mumbled after he swallowed.

"Well, that was a warm-up. Now you go." she said.

The man thought for a moment, a huff leaving his lips as he shrugged, "I dunno." He felt suddenly uncomfortable playing this with a seventeen year old girl, letting her drink in the first place was probably a stupid idea.

"Just say the first thing that pops into your head." Beth tried to help.

He shrugged, "I ain't ever been outta Georgia."

She looked a little shocked, "Really? Okay, good one." she complimented before drinking a little of the moonshine. "I've never...been drunk and done something I regretted."

His eyes narrowed at her for a moment before grabbing the jar and taking a larger drink of the liquid, almost as if he wanted to rid himself of the fuzzy memories. He didn't really need to think twice about that one, there were a lot of things he regretted doing when he was drunk. He just hoped she wouldn't ask for details.

"I ain't ever been on vacation." he muttered.

"What about camping?" Beth asked.

He shook his head, "Nah, that was just something I had to learn...to hunt."

"Your dad taught you?" she assumed.

Daryl just nodded in response, not trying to open that can of worms as Beth took another drink and tried to come up with another question. "I've never...been in jail. Well, I mean...as a prisoner."

Daryl's blood started to boil at the subtle accusation that he had been locked up before, though he tried to keep his cool, "Is that what ya think of me?" he asked.

"I didn't mean anything serious, I just thought you know like the drunk tank...even my dad got locked up for that back in the day." she reassured.

He shook his head, "Drink up."

"Wait... prison guard," she tried to guess, "Were you a prison guard before..." she trailed off.

Daryl stared at her for a long minute before saying, "No."

Beth noticed that she struck a nerve, but that truly wasn't her intention. She only stated the first thing that came to mind without really thinking twice about it, mostly because she felt like she couldn't come up with anything good. Just anything to keep the game going. But he somehow became even more guarded after the last one, and she knew she messed up.

She awkwardly tapped her glass as he continued to stare, "It's your turn again..." she reminded him.

Though he had just about enough and decided the game was over as he stood up from his spot, "Nah, we're done fuckin around. M' gonna take a piss, and then we're gonna go."

Beth sighed in slight defeat but felt like she didn't have any room to argue. She got a drink like she wanted and even got him to do it right alongside her, even though it wasn't doing anything but piss him off further. Still, she couldn't push it much more.

But her body involuntarily flinched when she heard the sound of glass breaking on the other end of the room, seeing Daryl dropped one of the jars carelessly onto the kitchen floor.

"You have to be quiet." she said softly.

"I can't hear ya! M' takin a piss!" he yelled back.

She sighed, "Daryl, you can't talk so loud." she reminded, glancing outside to the walker just behind the walls.

He turned around from the corner, "What are ya my chaperone now?" he asked passive aggressively, referring to the phrase she said earlier.

She shook her head a little in disbelief, watching him zip up his pants before turning back around to face her, "Oh wait it's my turn, right? I've never, uh...never eaten frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony...never got nothin from Santa Clause," he spoke while knocking over one of the chairs, "Never relied on anyone for protection before...Hell I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anythin!"

Beth grew shocked at his words, the venom dripping from his voice, it brought tears to her eyes. Not because his words hurt her, but because of the built-up pain she was seeing come out of him for what seemed like the first time since everything happened. She obviously knew that Daryl had a tough past, he was damaged. But she had never seen him so angry, so exhausted, so utterly broken before.

But he kept going, "Never sung out in front of a big group out in public, like everythin was fun. Like everythin was a big game... I sure as hell didn't force anyone else to do it with me even if she didn't want to!"

Just by looking at Beth's face in that moment, he could tell that finally, the last thing he said struck a nerve. Every other insult, every other snap to his words didn't affect her, but this he saw was something different. Turns out...Rose was both of their weaknesses.

Suddenly the walker for earlier started making a lot more noise upon hearing the screams from inside, and Daryl wasn't having it, "Sounds like our friend out there is tryin to call all his buddies!"

"Daryl, just shut up." Beth said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, ya never shot a crossbow before? M' gonna teach you right now, come on it's gonna be fun." he said while picking her up by her arm and dragging her outside.

"We should stay inside!" Beth tried to protest, trying to get out of his grasp as he only dragged her out the front door and down the stairs, "Daryl, cut it out!" she screamed.

He finally let go of her once they were close enough to the dead asshole, firing a bolt into its chest to pin it up against a nearby tree. Beth pleaded with him to stop as he continued to miss its head purposefully each time, trying to get the girl to shoot it herself so she could learn how to use his weapon. But he didn't stop. In his mind he was only getting started.

"Just kill it!" Beth yelled.

"Come on Greene, let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice." he said harshly, gesturing to the walker as it flailed around with bolts sticking out of its limbs.

She finally had enough, rushing past him as she took out her knife, bringing it down on the walker's head before Daryl could get to it himself. The snarls stopped instantly with the silencer of her blade, pulling it back out harshly as Daryl scoffed to himself angrily.

"What the hell ya do that for? We was havin fun!" he said.

"No, you were being a jackass!" she yelled back at him, "If anyone found my dad-"

"Don't," he cut her off, pointing a finger at her, "That ain't remotely the same."

"Killing them is not supposed to be fun."

His patience was diminishing as he suddenly got right up in her face, "What do ya want from me girl?! Huh?"

"I want you to stop like you don't give a crap about anything! Like... like nothing we went through matters, like none of the people we lost meant anything to you-"

"Oh, you got a lot of damn nerve sayin that to me." he cut her off again, "What do ya think I've been doin all this time?! Huntin for rabbits? No! I made a promise to her and m' keepin that promise...I don't care if it kills me."

"You can't even say her name! You're acting as if you're the only one who lost her, I lost her too!" she screamed in his face, before stepping back for a moment to collect herself, "That's one thing I know...right there." she whispered sadly.

"You don't know nothin." he spoke coldly.

"I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I'm not Michonne, I'm not Carol, I'm not Maggie...and I'm not Rose. I survived and you don't get it because I'm not like you or them, but I made it. And you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid!"

His eyes narrowed at her as he got closer to her face, wanting her to remember his words well, "I ain't afraid of nothin."

But she didn't back down, "I remember...when that little girl came out of the barn, right after my mom, you were like me. Or the damn look on your face when you found Rose's clip, you were scared, you still are! And now God forbid you let anyone get too close."

"Too close huh? What about my wife? M' the one who got close to her, and m' the one who fuckin lost her! You would know all about that, ya lost yer boyfriend and can't even shed a tear! Your whole family's gone and all you can do is just go out looking for hooch like some dumb college bitch!"

She shook her head, "Screw you, you don't get it."

"Nah, you don't get it!" he barked back, "Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that!"

"Might as well be, cause you ain't ever gonna see em again!" he yelled

Her eyes started to fill with tears, but he still didn't stop, "Rick...you ain't ever gonna see Maggie again! Just like I ain't ever gonna see my wife again! I haven't even come close to findin her, I might as well be chasin her ghost!"

"Daryl, just stop." she said calmly as she tried to grab hold onto his arm, watching as he only jerked away harshly.

"No! She's gone..." he said, more defeated than Beth had ever heard him, "She's gone...and I- I can't find her..."

She let out a soft breath as he continued to speak, "And your dad, maybe...maybe I coulda done somethin more..." he trailed off, feeling Beth finally come up behind him and wrap her arms around his waist in a hug.

He flinched at her touch and went to shove her off, but a certain feeling seemed to stop him. The simple gesture only reminded him of when Rose would do the same thing, giving him the gentleness he had never received from anyone else before. The gesture that made him feel safe. The truth was, he didn't have the energy to push her off of him, and he needed to feel some sort of comfort as he slowly broke down and cried. So, for the very first time...he let her stay.

Darkness now fell over the sky, the only light source being the moon shining down on their faces as they sat across from each other on the porch, drinking the strong liquor. As the hours passed, Beth suggested they stay the night here since the sun was already starting to set, and to her surprise, Daryl agreed. He was too tired to carry on today, too exhausted to even think about how far away she could be at this point. But again, it wasn't going to stop him.

Even though in the middle of their argument when he mentioned something about her ghost, he found he didn't mean that. Hell, he didn't mean a lot of the things he said. But deep down he believed she was still alive somewhere out there, trying to hold onto that little bit of hope that kept him going.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking." Beth suddenly broke the silence, leaning up further against the wooden pillar across from the man.

Daryl looked up, feeling the familiar fuzziness in his vision as he finally let his guard down a little, "Ya feel sick?"

She laughed lightly, "Nope. I wish I could feel like this all the time...that's bad."

"Yer lucky yer a happy drunk." he muttered, beginning to pick at his nails absentmindedly.

"Yeah, I'm lucky." she agreed, "Some people can be real jerks when they drink."

He nodded, "Yeah, m' a dick when m' drunk."

If Beth was sober, she probably would've held back on the comment that popped into her head, but she couldn't seem to stop it from falling out of her mouth, "Just when you're drunk?" she asked ironically.

He gave her a look, causing her to laugh a little in response, "I gotta good reason to be a dick right now, alright? Don't take it personal." he grumbled.

With the next look she had on her face, Daryl could only sense that she was about to ask something about Rose, causing him to quickly change the subject before she had the chance. His thoughts weren't running as clear, words just slipping out of his mouth a little easier as he began to open up to her a bit more than he ever would've thought.

He went onto tell her the truth about the things he used to do before the outbreak. How he and his brother would get into the most fucked up shit because he couldn't seem to stop following him around. How he was pretty much a nobody before everything...just some redneck asshole.

"You miss him, don't you?" Beth asked with a tilt of her head, silently referring to Merle as she watched Daryl nod his head subtly.

"Yeah." he said quietly.

"I miss Maggie...I miss her bossing me around." she admitted as she began to stare off into space, "And my dad...I thought... I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby, and he would get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays, and holidays, and summer picnics. I even thought about...if you and Rose had a kid too...what that could've been like."

Daryl's heart flipped when she said that, though he let her keep talking. He was only half paying attention to the rest, the remainder of his mind elsewhere, wondering if he and Rose would ever get to become parents like they had talked about before. It was a strange and scary thought, him becoming a father, but it somehow seemed simple doing it with her right by his side. She always made everything so much easier, like life was worth living.

His ears perked back up when Beth went on to talk about how she thought her dad would've lived the rest of his life in peace. How she felt stupid for thinking something like that considering the world they were living in now, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

But Daryl just shook his head, "Nah, that's how it was supposed to be. I never thought I was stupid enough to fall in love...but she's just...perfect." he said, staring off into space with a certain glint to his eye that caused Beth to smile.

She sat up a little straighter, hoping that he would keep going. This was it, he was finally going to open up about Rose.

"I only knew her for a little while before I realized how much I liked her. She always made me feel all that stupid mushy shit, could make me nervous just by lookin at me...hell, she still can." he quietly admitted.

"Couldn't believe she actually wanted to be with someone like me...but I guess she always managed to see the best in me. She never treats me like m' less than anybody else, like my past don't matter to her. I guess I became a better man because of her. But...I mainly became a better man for her. She's just so good...and perfect and I...I fuckin lost her." his voice broke towards the end, causing tears to return to Beth's eyes as she shook her head.

"It's not your fault." she assured, "You've been working yourself into the ground trying to find her...you can't blame yourself for that." she said.

Daryl only nodded in response; he didn't trust his voice not to break anymore when talking about her. And it was true, he couldn't say her name. He didn't feel like he had to explain himself to her on why he didn't, not needing to give anyone an explanation about his feelings. But at the same time, he almost wanted her to know.

"I don't say her name cause I don't wanna," he started slowly, "I don't say her name...cause I can't." he finished barely above a whisper.

"It's painful...I get it," Beth said softly, "She was so kind. She was the friend I didn't know I needed until I had her. She always looked out for me ever since I first asked her to teach me how to play guitar. But I always knew she did it because she actually wanted to, not because she felt like she had to. She's like a sister to me now...and I know how much it hurts to lose her because...I know how special she is."

Tears were streaming down her face now as she too opened up more than she would expect, trying to pull herself together as she wiped her cheeks, "I miss her so much." she quietly admitted.

Daryl ducked his head down as he nodded in silent agreement, hoping Beth couldn't see his own tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. But even if he tried to hide it, she knew.

A few minutes of silence passed over them and they both just sat there thinking. Rose had become a big part of both of their lives, and Daryl now realized that's what they had in common, even though Beth knew it from the very beginning.

It started to come together for him that she was important to Beth too; how the girl was hurting just as bad at the loss. He knew he needed to take a step back, not be as much of a dick to her as he had been, even though it wasn't on purpose. It was just all the overwhelming emotions pouring over. But still, he made a silent vouch to try.

"She's still out there." Beth spoke after a moment, nodding to herself as if she believed it more than anything else in the world.

"...I know."

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysuffering98

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Five, Close Quarters

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: i got noooo idea if demons exist in one piece and didn’t appear so off some searches so gonna chalk it up to powers from a devil fruit. also think I really like this chapter??

Masterlist

-

Ocean waves lulled onto the beach as the sun reached its peak, whilst two ships tied and anchored at a makeshift dock. Lounging near the entrance of the sea cave was a company of pirates, ones that belonged to the Red Force. On proud display was that of Luffy’s wanted poster, with alcohol passed around. 

Mihawk eyed his red-haired ‘friend’ warily, finding himself without the want to finish off whatever ale was tossed to him. 

The joy- pride- whatever it was he didn’t quite care, was evident on the crew. Though he’d imagined if the Luffy he met was anything like that as a child, sure the boy would have made a lasting impression. But his mind was elsewhere.

It was coming up to a month since he’d first lay eyes on the woman his heart now belonged to. Perhaps distance truly did make the heart fonder in this case. His memory raced to remind himself of every inch he’d taken in, from her delicate fingers, to supple skin and breathtaking beauty. He wanted to own every part of her, to know every intimate detail of her past, and to understand the inner workings of her mind. Anything to do with her up to the air she breathed he wanted part in. 

It was a sickening line of thought, truly it twisted and burned his chest inside that he’d thought he’d implode at times. But Sabine pulled him into her orbit, dug her innocent little claws in, and he’d be a fool to resist. 

His mind constantly drifted to her from time sailing on the sea, amidst a job, and even before he fell asleep. He wondered what she was up to and where, if she were safe, if she thought about him. He let himself obsessively obsess over someone he met twice, truly knew nothing about and now had to wait for them to make a life changing decision in months time. Setting himself up for failure surely, but high risk brings high reward, he understood that well enough. 

"You usually got your panties in a bunch Hawkeyes- but this is extra.” Shanks stared at Mihawk knowingly as he knocked back his drink. 

"What are you talking about?” Mihawk quipped back, tone biting with a hint of exasperation. 

"Haven't touched your drink."

Mihawk glanced down at the open bottle, liquid slowly warming in his grasp from nursing it, "Please elaborate on your nonsensical ramblings."

Shanks grinned as he took a swig of mead, "I know that face. Only one thing causes men of our stature to look so grim."

"Don't compare us-"

"A girl."

"Fucks sake." Mihawk decided he was done, he’d take no further questions from the red haired imbecile of a pirate. He sat his drink down in the sand uncaring as it tipped, spilling out the amber liquid. He only got a few feet away. 

 "Where's your ring?" Shanks smirked, only having to ask one simple question and Mihawk would know he was beat, knowing how to prod all the right areas to tick Mihawk off.

Mihawk stopped and turned with a fire in his eyes, “Don’t pry in places you have no business.”

“Oh come on,” He laughed drunkenly, “You don’t just give that out!”

It did not matter- the intricacies of what the ring symbolized to Mihawk. Or it shouldn’t have mattered to Shanks who found far too much enjoyment out of his discomfort.

“Don’t use that night, what- a decade ago when I drunkenly told you about what it meant- against me.”

“Yeah yeah.” Shanks waved a hand dismissively, his smirk growing larger by the second. A few of his crew were beginning to listen in, “Come on, a man as distrusting as you wouldn’t give something so precious to a stranger! Or maybe… you did?” 

“Like you know anything about it.” 

Not needing to push anymore, the red haired man shrugged, “Tell me about her.”

“No.”

“I’ll never bother you again!” 

“Liar.”

“Just one thing then you can go. She a pirate? Marine? A sweet girl you saved from an evil pirate?”

Mihawk sighed, ran a handle along the fabric of his jacket then stared right into the depths of Shanks’s soul. 

“She’s a nun.”

The beach went utterly silent. It sounded like even the entirety of the ocean and its inhabitants, and even the air went silent too. Then a booming chorus of loud shouts and laughter drowned the silence out. 

“She’s traveling with Luffy.”

At the mention of Luffy the crew died down again, ears strained to listen.

“What’s he doing with a nun?” Yasopp called over. 

Mihawk would indulge him one more time and wanted to set a record straight before Shanks could say anything about him being a cradle robber, “She’s much older than him by the way, but she’s on sabbatical and he wants to show her the damned world before she goes back. With that strange boy she’s sure to get a show.”

Shanks laughed, “Sounds about Luffy. Pfft well, guess ole’ Mihawk here is gonna have to become a priest! Or celibate the rest of his life, good luck man, you’ll be in my prayers.” And he raised his beer up emphasizing the last word, toasting to Mihawk's ‘doom.’

It was the sudden noise of the little transponder snail he kept safely tucked away that finally gave Mihawk a reason to leave.

Annoyance riddled every bone in his body until the Marine on the other end said a nun wanted to talk to him. It felt like he’d been doused in cold water, fear striking through him at what that could mean. But when he heard her voice, it calmed something inside him. Without a doubt in his mind he’d head to Angelica Island to see her, to aid her in whatever venture she needed him for. It didn’t matter. It could be as simple as needing him to reach an item off a high shelf. Because getting to lay eyes, possibly a hand on her after a month would make it worth it. The two days to get there though would test his patience. 

-

Sabine stilled, suddenly deathly aware of the new presence in her room as she opened the door wishing she hadn’t gone out from the way sweat dripped down her nape. Dread pooled in her stomach like molten lava, her pulse hiked the second she stepped onto the premises. Hairs on the back of her neck stood straight, her instincts screaming at her to turn around. But as her gaze caught the figure lounging beside the window with its sheer curtains blowing about in the wind- a surreal calmness washed over her. Her knees buckled but she caught herself on the door frame as her cheeks burned red.

“Mihawk.”

There he sat in all his glory. He wore a simple cream shirt half unbuttoned, his coat and hat lay haphazardly on the bed. And the giant sword leaned resting against a far wall. The sight of him made her stomach churn, made her chest flitter so painfully she desperately wanted to be closer to him. 

“Sabine, dear.”

“You came.” She regained her senses as she shut the door behind her, her back pressed against the wood as she watched him. Watched him in awe as he sat across the room. Awed at the fact he hadn’t lied about his intentions to help her.

“Of course. You called.” 

He said those words so casually, but it makes her burn inside. Like it was the most obvious thing on the planet to him, while she’d been stressing. Sabine called, so of course Mihawk came to her as if she were his light in the depths of the darkest ocean calling to him.

Her head spun from the noxious fumes of the jasmine candle she’d left lit since the morning as she slowly inched forward. And how it swirled with the scents coming in from the window- every sense of hers blazing in sharp awareness. Everything zoomed in on Mihawk who straightened in the loveseat, his pupils dilating as he watched her movements and every breath like it’d be the last.

Sabine took a shuddering breath in as she stood an arms length away from him now, her heart lurching as he stood. Towering over her, enormous and all powerful. Consuming her as she rocked on her feet in a trance as it took every ounce of her not to reach out and touch him. The intrusive need to graze her fingers up the front of his shirt, feel the chiseled muscle that lies underneath and his radiating warmth. 

Biting her lip, she looked away wishing she could hurl into a ball and hide.

“Hi.” She squeaked out, “I didn’t know you were here. See, I’d gone for a walk, was too anxious waiting around cooped up in here.”

“I would have been earlier, but I ran into some difficulties.”

“Oh! Is everything okay?” 

“Yes.”

Unsure what to say she simply nodded, his level tone told her not to push further. Her room felt like a flurry of nerves consumed it raking along her skin, soft whispers scraping at the back of mind as she tried to calm herself. Nervous about how to behave around him. Nervous on what to even say. Nervous about if she looked presentable! All her practiced words she’d recited over and over since the sun went up, were flown right out the open window beside her. Mind filled with mush. 

A soft chuckle emanated past his lips as he delicately touched the side of her arm, careful to not scare her, to test the waters. 

“Little dove, why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Start from the beginning.” 

She nodded appreciating the directness as it gave her something to do, “Y-Yeah, one second.”

A thick notebook laid at her bedside, one she’d scribbled in all night trying to clearly navigate her thoughts. The story was long, possibly confusing, and frankly she didn’t know where to begin when she finally sat down to write. To write the thoughts she kept locked away inside felt like a personal betrayal of some sorts, that telling paper before an actual person was wrong. 

“I wasn’t sure how much you needed to know, it was almost therapeutic writing it all down, I don’t know if I’ve told anyone it all before.” She leafed through the pages, embarrassment leaking through. Intimate thoughts, intimate details written that she’d let him see because at this point she was desperate. Or she wanted him to. That if he was claiming to want her, then he needed to know her before following through.

Remembering his words of sweet possession, revering attention made her stomach lurch and flutter. A beast roaring inside her she’d never felt until Mihawk. How it blazed and consumed her thoughts with him, with daydreams and a childish obsession a girl holds when she’s young. Because she didn’t know him!

Shaking her head to force herself out of a heedless spiral, she went and handed him the notebook. 

“I’d rather not have to speak any of it.” 

Sabine sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling sick and unable to tear her eyes off him as he began reading. The only reason she told Luffy and the crew a few days ago about the gist of her past, was the heat of the moment. Sabine would have needed a whole bottle of wine to even consider talking about the whole story. 

To a pirate of his status, power, it probably meant nothing, Mihawk may think she was weak or overdramatic. But this was her life, she knew nothing else than her confined and confusing existence. 

Mihawk’s golden eyes read every word she’d written, even the ones she crossed out, with an acute concentration. 

‘I was 15 when father made me leave home. I don’t know if it was bad luck, but I believe it was him who brought the pirate to our doorstep. I believe he paid him to take me to the Monastery, then to kill mother. I still remember how the pirate laughed, calling father weak for not taking mother’s place but I think it was all part of his plot. What pirate takes a girl and drops her off at a Monastery? Few months before, father had become a fanatic over religion, believing we’d all been living in sin and needed to be a better family. I think he went crazy. Who knows- I surely don’t, but I wish mother took his place and I was never sent away.

Out of the 8 years I spent at the Monastery, which I could write a whole novel on the things that took place but wouldn’t know where to begin, I only left the isle once. Last year I came to Angelica Island, this one, with a Bishop because the matriarchs believed I needed a break. I found myself in a precarious position three years ago, a deacon had pried his way into my life in an inappropriate manner (I will not further explain as he’d inconsequential now). I’d always forced myself to believe I was doing a service through my work of prayer and confession, all the strict schedules and confining education- all for this wretched island to flush it all away. I genuinely believed there was a demon here causing people to take their lives violently, drawing them to insanity, that it needed to be sent back to hell. I believed it, I mean I saw the lady with the black eyes, I saw all the dark swirls, saw the blood she left, and felt her claw like nails on me. How was it not real? Even the marines had no leads. But the man she supposedly possessed who was showing strange behavior, I had to be the one to finish the exorcism as it killed the Bishop. All the terror stopped. I thought it was done!

I went back to the Monastery and for months I woke in fits of screams and horrible nightmares. I’d feel her choking grasp, couldn’t be in the dark, I was jumpy, changed. I always thought I was a fairly level headed person, liking to follow directions even if I hated it. Thought I could be a role model, a good nun, but over the last 8 years I could never take my permanent vows while most have over the years. So now I find myself here once again after feeling the most free and light since the start of my sabbatical. I don’t want to be here but clearly it drew me back for a reason, out of all the possibilities of islands to stop, why this one? I couldn’t leave with the crew when they planned to after a few days, I had to stay. I went to the archive in the religious sector of the town, met with the cardinal I trust who had helped last year. After meeting Luffy and finding out about devil fruits, these wild magical powers, I felt something gnaw at me. In long forgotten books are articles, journal entries, timelines of correlation in demonic activity and someone who’s eaten a devil fruit. I mean- I couldn’t imagine the matriarch seeing Luffy stretch out and not think he was possessed! And someone who could have those powers to possess or use ghosts, turn into that thing- wouldn’t that be more plausible? 

I’m ranting, I know, but it’s making me doubt even more. I feel guilty. I don’t think there’d ever been a demon. Just powers and violent happenings from someone with abilities that we don’t understand. The church is good at fear mongering I’ve noticed and all it takes is someone who has a strong opinion and is loud, people do crazy things out of fear. I think there is an actual person behind all this- Mihawk if you are reading, that is why I called you.’

Mihawk closed the notebook, humming to himself before he looked at Sabine. His eyes provided her with an unspoken understanding or support, she at least liked to think so. While normally able to tell when judgment existed within someone from the different sorts of people she had to spend time with due to the state of her occupation- with Mihawk that was different. She cared what he thought of her, far too much than she wanted to admit for only having been around him twice. Now three times. 

“I see. I think there is a plausible possibility of your hunch being correct. Much about devil fruits we don’t understand, or the type of powers they can give or even how they are activated. But you are not talking to a man of faith, I would rather believe in a realistic answer.”

“I’m glad you don’t think this is all foolish.” She straightened, heart thumping.

“I will look into it myself, from a less religious aspect however. A person behind this would be more logical, but I want to see reports from last year and logs from your time.” 

“That makes sense, we could get that information from Cardinal Joseph tomorrow, he’s very good in secretarial duties.”

“Have you asked the marines if there are suspicious reports of deaths lately? Or sightings?”

“No…” 

“The cardinal you mentioned, has he noticed anything strange within the community?”

“Yes and no.” Sabine flushed, ears red in embarrassment as she shifted, “We’ve been meeting, pouring through books but most aren’t helpful. I have notes further in my notebook. While nothing has happened like a year ago, he says he has felt unnerved. Said he’d been considering writing to me to see if I was doing okay, or felt the same, that maybe we were wrong.” 

He was thinking and she was waiting for him to plunge the knife in that she was ridiculous, and a fool to call him for this. It did not come. 

“You said you’ve felt light on your sabbatical, freer since you’d joined the church, whether you only meant to imply it innocently. I want you to feel that way once again.”

“So you’ll help?” She asks more excitedly than intended. Her body language changed and he enjoyed watching how her pupils expanded, shoulders relaxed, and a smile pulled at her lips.

“Yes.” Only for her. 

A weight released off her, one she hadn’t realized was there until that moment. The look she gave him was genuine, filled with thanks as she took a breath able to suck in air more than the airy gasps she’d been surviving off. 

It was late afternoon, almost evening but Sabine could have slept until morning. A small crash in adrenaline, she fell back onto the bed, her legs hanging off where her knees hinged. 

“Such a relief you’re here.” She rubbed her eyes as she stared at the ceiling.

The floorboards creaked under his heavy steps, she couldn’t see them but his eyes dominated along her form. He stopped at the sight of a necklace chain that hadn’t been there before. It sat below her garments. 

“Sit up,” His smooth voice tickled the back of her mind and she immediately obeyed. She pushed herself up on her forearms and gazed up at him with half lidded eyes. 

Closer. His legs just brushed against her knees. She held her breath, the sound of pumping blood decimated within her head as all other noise went silent. 

Mihawk had to lean down to reach her neck, where he looped a finger under the chain to pull it out from under her garbs. 

“I see you’ve been wearing my ring.”

“Yes.” She blushed furiously, her tongue darting across her lower lip, “It doesn’t fit any of my fingers though.”

“I do not doubt that.” It pleased him greatly to see her not only with it, treasuring it, but wearing it. It stroked the possessive tendencies that suddenly surged through him, the sudden emotions it wracked through his nerves and climbed under his skin, “How often does it get to grace this chain around your neck?”

Sabine stilled, breath caught before she admitted under her breath, “Everyday.”

His lips quirked and an impulsive thought popped into his mind. He quickly said, “I should go,” as he dropped the ring so it fell back to her chest, needing to move. He barely got a few strides away. 

“No- Stay in here. Or maybe they could move us to a room with double beds? I can’t be here alone at night anymore, I wake up crying like there’s a presence over me.” Sabine’s bottom lip jutted out, a plea falling from her lips as panic surged through her, “If you’re here I’ll feel safer. I only ask for genuine reasons, nothing nefarious I swear.”

“I know, don’t fret.” He reassured, but mainly reassuring himself that staying in the same room as her was a good idea. 

No matter how patient and strict of a man he was in training or in battle- in life, she suddenly changed that. Sabine was honest, that was clear of her character even when he first met her at Baratie. Mother-like in a sense, clearly conscious of others and her surroundings. Precious. Easy to break- something he’d never allow to happen. 

“Alright. I’ll go ask for a cot, how about that?” That pleased her greatly that she didn’t come off like a desperate woman doing this to bed him. Though she couldn’t blame anyone for trying, even her own thoughts betrayed her as she’d graze along his pale skin and corded muscle, a chest and abdomen so thick and defined it didn’t matter it was covered by a shirt. And without his long coat on she could see his powerful thighs straining against the material, making her wonder just how much of his life was dedicated to the art of his sword. 

“You will take the bed, I will take the cot.” Mihawk added sternly, though she saw through that as nothing more than banter. She smiled, nodding before skipping out the room. He was moments away from telling her not to leave his sight, but he shut his mouth and let her run her little errand. 

As nightfall fell over the city on Angelica Island, Sabine methodically locked every window making sure to stuff spare linens so no draft could sneak its way in. A habit she’d had for years. A distrust for people perhaps, or surroundings, or that she’d spent years shivering in her bed as a girl. And the Monastery was nothing if not a wretched old place with a frigid draft that had Sabine always on the lookout for extra blankets. 

Mihawk watched her with fond curiosity, teasing words dancing on his tongue that he wouldn’t yet speak. Her movements were frantic, though it was clear she didn’t see the behavior as worrisome. She kept checking the locks and he itched to tell her to sit, to relax. But this moment gave him the perfect chance to learn more about her, to study her and put it to memory. 

“You’re not cold are you?” She asked him, huffing from the amount of times she’d paced the room. 

“I’m not.” He thought carefully, “It’s late, you should rest.”

She nodded, “Mhmm, yeah. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“I can tell.”

“You see, besides my weeklong job here last year, I hadn’t slept in a room by myself in years. I’ve always had roommates at the Monastery and on the ship I room with Nami. With others in the room I have to force my brain to sleep so as to not bug the other person. Alone, it’s unsettling, I don’t like it.” She said quickly, tripping over her words as she tried to explain. 

Mihawk stood from the lounge chair, “You- sit on the bed. You’re making me anxious watching you flit around.”

Sabine shivered under his commanding gaze as he sat on her bed, patting the spot beside him. She pushed her messy hair back behind her ears and as she sat she smoothed down her nightgown, suddenly very aware how thin the material was. Suddenly filled with shame to be wearing such a thing around him as an unmarried woman, self consciousness making her stomach twist tight. 

His large fingers comb thoughtfully through her hair, carefully feeling the way each strange felt between his fingers. The softness of her brown locks, a faint smell of soapy lilac wafting from it. 

Dutifully he began to part her long hair into three sections, basking in the way her skin would erupt in goosebumps as he ghosted along it as he worked. 

Taken aback she quickly asked, “You can braid hair?” 

“It’s not difficult. And now you won’t have a bird's nest come morning.” 

“Should I be offended by that?” She teased, loving the way his fingers felt as they stroked along her nape and braided the strands. 

“No. Now tell me why you obsessively check locks, shove cloth into cracks, then check again and again.” 

“Why?” Heart amiss as it pounded in her chest, she felt dumb asking why but her mind was slowly turning to much as his fingers worked. She’d never thought a man would braid her hair, nonetheless a warlord of the sea. 

“I want to know everything about you. What makes you tick. Anything or anyone who’s caused you damage whether emotional or physical. What colors do you prefer? Do you prefer sweet or salty food?”

“Will you tell me all the things there is to know about you too?”

“Yes. Anything I ask I would be willing to answer in return. Do you have a hair tie?”

“Nightstand. And you don’t seem very open... In general.”

“I am not.” He leaned to grasp the black band, carefully looping it around the end of the braid leaving about two inches.

“Why did you become a pirate?” She shifted upon his completion, instinctively feeling her head and hair. Facing him now she was as pink as the evening sky while he was an impenetrable wall as he watched her. 

“What do you consider a pirate to be? In your own words.”

“I dunno, someone who travels by ship that is against the world government, steals and murders I guess? A pirate seems to be someone who wants the One Piece at this point, Gold Roger really changed everything.”

Mihawk hummed, thinking over her words, “I don’t particularly care for the antics of it all, I especially do not care to terrorize islands of people to rule over like some. I care about my pride of being the world’s greatest swordsman, besting foes as I please, and one day hopefully meet the one who will surpass me. My occupation as a warlord helps keep the marines out of my way, they’re a nuisance at best.”

“You’re a lone wolf.” She tried to tease again but a sudden yawn came over her as sleep began to drag her down. 

“I don’t talk about my past or my reasoning for most decisions with anyone, but I wanted to return the favor as you allowed me to read your notebook.”

“I hope it wasn’t too intimate?”

“No, it allowed me insight into you, I hope I’ve done the same. Now have you finished your nighttime routine or is there more to do?”

“Yes, it’s done.” Her chest swelled even as her eyelids grew heavy. 

“Then lay down, I will stay up until you fall asleep.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me questions?” Sabine inquired as he helped her get underneath the covers. A tingling sense of safety washed over her from how delicately he treated her. Like a precious treasure the way he tucked her in, hand smoothing the wrinkles of the blanket over her form. 

“Not tonight. Sleep, tomorrow we’ll speak with the marines.”

“Alright, fun.”

Her words soon slurred together as she attempted to chat his ear off about unintelligible nonsense he simply hummed responses to. She was nervous, he could practically feel the way her pulse hitched as he got close, or how her pupils would dilate. The extra time between responses as she was overthinking her own words. 

He glanced around, only the dim light of the lamp beside him illuminating the room, she’d insisted he leave it on. There were no words to describe Sabine’s beauty in his eyes. In the month since he’d seen her he’d recount her face in his memory, but being able to see each detail, was like seeing her for the first time again. And she was still stealing his heart like she had the moment he eyed her from across the bar. 

Mihawk settled onto the cot that night, careful to be silent so as not to wake Sabine. He’d be damned if he were to ruin her first night of peaceful sleep now that she felt safe. Safe. She wanted his presence. She could have called back Luffy and co, but wanted him. The fact of it quenched the fire within him that wanted to claim her as his own, knowing that while he was still very much a stranger, he gave her solitude. 

-

posted: july 18 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 let me know if you wanna be added !

[barleyalive101]

Don’t you guys wonder how rhaenyra felt seeing alicent birth sons easily while her moth struggled, I’m not saying she wished to see alicent struggle but I’m saying she might have felt some sadness to her mother , some bitterness on her mother’s account seeing alicent having son after son healthily while her mother only had her ,seeing alicent doing the thing her mother couldn’t do.

I wonder if rhaenyra wished to be a boy , then she would have been enough, her father wouldn’t push for a son , her mother wouldn’t have died , everything would have been better ( Viserys would still want more kids as it’s risky only having one but he wouldn’t have been that insistent ,perhaps a break between the pregnancies )

Can you imagine having your best friend that knows how much you love your mother , how it saddens you she died trying to birth the “male heir” , how much it hurt losing her , how much it hurts even more that your father will have to marry , marry someone who’ll replace your mother, turning out to be the replacement, Be the someone who your dad will marry after you told her everything, turns out to be seeing your dad behind your back a few weeks/months after your mother’s death.

I know Viserys must marry but marrying Laena is different than alicent , cause rhaenyra doesn’t have a strong bond with Laena (show ) , it doesn’t feel personal like a break of trust. Having someone whom you cared about rise and take your mother’s place.

Alicent didn’t even have the decency to tell rhaenyra before the council even , alicent knew viserys choice , she made sure she was the choice by otto’s orders , Alicent at that moment didn’t treat rhaenyra like a friend , she was like everyone else.

Side note : Viserys also should have told rhaenyra beforehand , she’s his daughter not some lord to find out at the council. He wasn’t exactly a good dad to rhaenyra either. He wasn’t even there for her after he killed her mother , the first thing he says to her after her mother’s death is about the prophecy like really that’s what you are opening the conversation with ? , After not talking to her for soo long , then he comes in blaming daemon , “you weren’t there for your niece”, well where were you for your daughter ?.

One extra thing viserys never questioned why the fuck does the hand of the king ,Otto fucking Hightower has spies watching his daughter and brother? Spies he hasn’t ordered being put , why is he stalking the royal family, it ain’t his business unless viserys makes it his business, when was it the hands job to have spies without the king’s knowledge?

Back to the main topic ; So Alicent’s betrayal is waaay worse than rhaenyra’s supposed “betrayal” , Rhaenyra doesn’t owe alicent anything after the move alicent pulled , alicent betrayed first keep that in mind , before you say “well Otto forced her to do that” , how is rhaenyra supposed to know that , alicent didn’t say anything and afterwards we see alicent undermining rhaenyra by ordering the bard away ,reminding her of her position above her then after the fiasco with daemon , alicent comes in talks shit about the targaryen customs , ( after she’s married to one , hypocrite) basically dissing on the entire family tree , throws some heavy accusations at rhaenyra, barley letting rhaenyra talk and Rhaenyra didn’t lie to her she said daemon didn’t touch me ( touch in this context means sex not kiss cause even Otto says it as sex ) which is the truth, she didn’t lie , she just didn’t give her full details and why would she , alicent is no longer her friend, she’s her queen as rhaenyra was reminded beforehand.

Funny thing , Like a fool I honestly expected alicent knowing rhaenyra did it with Crispin , would prove that rhaenyra didn’t lie about daemon,that Otto was wrong but no alicent turned into a mega bitch, who constantly sought out to ruin rhaenyra’s peace , out of jealousy, even though Rhaenyra didn’t hurt her.

[sacredjake]

To Be Loved By You

pairing: sam kiszka x reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: angst, pining, fluff, drinking. let me know if i missed anything

i’ve gone back and forth on this fic and almost wasn’t going to post it, but here we are. this fic is very, very loosely based off the song To Be Loved By You by Parker McCollum. every time i heard it i just had this vision in my head for some reason and needed it out :) huge thank you to @malany-gvf and @gretasimp for proofreading and editing <3

———————

“So? What do you think?”

The words bounced around in your head, creating a hollow echo against your brain. You should be ecstatic, over the moon, jumping with joy. Part of you was, but another part of you just felt sad. And you hated yourself for it.

“Oh my god… Is it that bad?!” Seth’s panicked words brought you back from the corner in your mind where you had been hiding away.

“Oh no! No! Seth, it’s perfect. Em is going to absolutely freak and say yes. Honestly, you planned the perfect proposal and I am so excited for you both!” You quickly shoved your sadness deep down to reassure him that his engagement proposal to your best friend is perfect.

And it was. Seth had everything planned out exactly as you would expect, so when your best friend, Emily, said “yes” you were not surprised in the slightest. You were extremely happy for them both, but it also loomed over you as a reminder of how awful your own love life was.

You had never been in a serious relationship and every date you went on was an utter disaster. The guy was either a creep, or wasn’t interested in actually dating. After so many years of your closest friends falling in love and getting married, you were starting to turn bitter and sad about the subject of love entirely.

“Ugh, Sam, you should’ve seen it. It was absolutely perfect, and of course she said yes because I mean, how could she not?!” You exasperate over the phone to your best friend as you walk inside your apartment and drop your keys on the kitchen counter.

“And the way he looked at her? My god he looked at her like she was the only woman to ever walk the earth. And when she said yes? I just can’t even take it anymore. I am beyond happy for her, I am, but when is it gonna be my turn? When am I going to fall in love? When am I going to have a guy look at me like I am the only woman to ever exist?”

Sam gave you a hefty sigh from the other end of the phone as you continued to ramble and pity yourself, voice beginning to crack from the heavy emotions you felt.

You made your way through your apartment towards your bathroom to get ready for bed, petting your cat who lay on the armrest of the couch along the way.

“C’mon y/n, stop talking like that. There are tons of guys out there who would fall at your feet if you so much as glanced their way. Maybe your time is coming soon.” Sam effectively cut off your rambling, but his words of optimism didn’t help. If anything they drove you closer to tears.

As you entered the bathroom, you could feel your throat closing and water starting to prickle in your eyes, your chest tightening with hurt and sorrow. You shut the door with your back pressed against the wood and slide down the length of it until you were sitting on the cool tile.

“Don’t say that to me, Sam. Please. I’ll only get my hopes up for nothing to happen. Constantly reminded that I’m unloved.” You choked back a sob trying not to cry to your best friend on the phone. You have done enough of that these days.

Sam has heard and seen it all. He was the person you were able to go to with these things because unlike all of your other friends, he was single. He knew what it felt like to be lonely and want someone to share things with. But my god was he so optimistic and hopeful with you, always ensuring that there was someone out there for you.

“You are not unlovable, Angel. Far from it. You just need to… I don’t know… gain a new perspective on things?” His nickname for you caused another round of sobs to wrack through your body. It wasn’t often that he called you Angel anymore, but when he did it was always in situations like this. When you needed it most.

He sounded sad and longing, but you were too wrapped up in your own pity to even notice. It stayed silent for a few moments while you tried to pull it together, Sam giving you time to gather yourself.

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything for you, Angel.”

“Could you be my plus one for this wedding? I know I will be in the bridal party, but I don’t think I can stomach it without you.” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes once again as you spoke.

“I would love to be your plus one. I’ll be there.” His voice was soft and gentle, calming your emotions once again. You took a deep breath and stood from your place on the ground.

“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate you so much.” You gave a slight smile even though he couldn’t see you.

“Anytime, Angel. I’m always here. Get some rest, okay? Goodnight.” You could picture the look on his face perfectly in your mind. Eyes and smile soft and warm on his face as he bid you goodnight.

“Goodnight, Sam.” Ending the call and you continued your regular nightly routine, but still feeling weighed down by your own heart, the sadness lingering. You knew eventually it would subside, but tonight was another night in which you would fall asleep alone, wishing for the comfort of another.

—————————-

As the months passed on, Emily had asked you to be a bridesmaid, as you had suspected she would. You were thrilled to be a part of her big day in this way, but being a bridesmaid also meant you were constantly talking about wedding things and love. Which songs they will play, what song they wanted their first dance as a married couple to be, what kind of cake and flowers and decorations they would have. It was exhausting.

By the time the wedding rolled around you were grateful the whole ordeal was going to be over. Part of it was the stress of having bridesmaid responsibilities, but the other was because it was a constant reminder that you were alone. All of the other bridesmaids were either taken or married which didn’t help the resentment towards love that you were beginning to feel after months of helping plan this wedding. Not that you would ever let it show around them or Em, but you couldn’t wait to be out from under its crushing weight.

You vented to Sam about the wedding and how you felt, frequently. You would have felt bad constantly burdening him with your emotions had you been able to see past them. He never faltered and always seemed willing to listen and give advice. You were thankful that you had him, and even more thankful that he still agreed to come with you to the wedding.

“Alright people! It’s showtime!” Em’s sister, Audrey gathered the attention of the bridal party, signaling that the wedding was about to begin. You walked over to Em one last time before finding your place among the other bridesmaids.

“Congratulations, Em. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I am so happy for you.” You lightly grasped her shoulders as you spoke. Tears began to well in both of your eyes and deciding neither of you could afford to ruin your makeup now you added with a pointed finger, “And if Seth ever hurts you, I will kick his ass.” Causing you both to laugh lightly.

“I know you will, y/n. I know you will.” She shook her head giggling slightly. You let go of her shoulder to give her a tight hug, basking in each other for a moment. You pulled away from Em giving her a soft smile before joining the other bridesmaids to begin the wedding procession.

As you joined the groomsman you had been paired with and marched down the aisle, you searched for Sam. His eyes found yours in the crowd of people sitting in the pews and he shot you a smile and wink, earning a smile from you in return.

The way Seth watched Em walk down the aisle pulled on your heart, drawing it near your stomach. His eyes were solely focused on her, tears threatening to break through as she approached closer with every step. You longed for someone to look at you that way, to love you that deeply and strongly.

The ceremony was beautiful and filled with tears from all throughout the church. You cheered loudly as the newlyweds walked out to their awaiting car to be swept off towards the reception venue. Eventually you were able to find Sam among the sea of people leaving their places in the pews.

“Thank you for coming, Sam.” You greeted him with a hug and bright smile, though he could see the sadness that held your eyes. He immediately wrapped his arms around your frame, hugging you close with his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. He was intoxicating. His warmth, his smell, his touch, everything about him soothed you and drew you in.

“Anything for you, always.” He squeezes you tightly before letting go. Gesturing you to walk outside, you followed his direction out of the church and into the warm spring air.

“Nice suit, I didn’t know you could clean up this well.” You nodded to his outfit of choice. He was wearing a deep red blazer and dress pants set that complimented his skin well. You ran your hand down the sleeve of his blazer feeling the crushed red velvet beneath your fingers.

“Not so bad yourself. I think fuschia suits you.” He nodded his head back towards you and gave you a wink. You wrinkled your nose and pretended to gag at his words.

“Please, you know I hate the color pink.”

“You never listen, huh? This isn’t just pink, it’s fuschia.” Sam huffed jokingly. Shaking your head you lightly shoved his shoulder with your hand, barely pushing him away from you.

“It’s still a shade of pink, dummy.” You looked around and noticed that most of the guests had cleared out of the vicinity, more than likely heading to the reception hall. “We should probably get going though. Mind if I ride with you to the reception? I rode with Audrey here.”

“Not at all. This way, milady.” Sam held his arm out for you to loop yours through, guiding you to his car. Your time with Sam didn’t last long, as you had to perform your last bridesmaid duty. Pictures.

You didn’t mind this aspect of being a bridesmaid, it was just extremely tedious, and you were not a fan of having your picture taken. You were relieved when the photographer announced that they would be taking pictures of the newlyweds and you were free to join the guests in the reception hall.

As you walked into the open ballroom you began scanning the area for Sam, finding him sitting at a table with his back to you, in what looked to be a deep conversation with a girl. She was laughing at something he said with her hand on his upper arm, leaning in closer to him. You instantly felt anger bubbling inside of you, rising up to your face. You couldn’t explain why you felt this way, but you were definitely feeling an odd tinge of jealousy. Deciding to bypass Sam and the girl, you walked straight to the bar to order a drink. Thank god Em and Seth insisted on having an open bar, you were going to need the liquor.

As you waited in line, you felt a hand gently land on the backside of your tricep. Turning your head slightly you were met with Sam’s face looking down at you, a soft smile gracing his lips. You offered the best smile you could muster, shoving the ugly green monster back into his little box and turned back to face the bar.

Sam still felt the shift in your mood as you turned away from him without a word. He dropped his hand from your arm, and opted to not bring it up in fear that it would only upset you further.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender looked up from the current order they were working on as you approached the bar.

“Can I have a jack and coke, please?” Sam glanced at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at the drink you ordered. You didn’t drink jack and coke unless you were planning on getting drunk, fast, and he knew it.

“And for you?” The bartender looked towards Sam waiting to fill his order.

“Tequila soda, please.” The bartender got to work on your drinks as you and Sam stood in silence. In a few moments you both had your drinks and were heading back towards the table you saw Sam sitting at with the girl earlier. Although, this time she was nowhere to be found.

“Drinking heavy tonight?” Sam nodded his head towards the drink in your hand as you sat down, taking a sip of your jack and coke.

“I figured I’d need something stronger than my usual to get me through tonight.” You shrugged, taking another sip. You weren’t sure it was even possible, but his eyes softened more at your reply. He rested his hand on your knee and gave it a light squeeze. Even through the fabric of your dress, your skin felt warm under his touch.

His hand didn’t linger for long as he picked up his glass and tilted it towards yours. “Then drink we shall.” He gently knocked his glass against yours before lifting it to his lips.

The night went on, and Sam helped lift your mood as toasts were made, food was served and drinks were downed. You were definitely feeling slightly drunk from the rounds of drinks you frequently got, and that helped to soothe the sting of heartache. However, your mood quickly turned sour once again as the cake was being cut and the couple shared their first dance as husband and wife.

“Why can’t I have that? Look at the way they’re staring into each other’s eyes… I want someone to love me like that.” You sighed, chin resting on your arm that was draped over the back of your chair. “No one has ever looked at me that way. No one has ever wanted me that way.” You cast your eyes down to the empty drink in your hand and sighed again.

“I’m going to get another drink.”

You stood, earning a huff from Sam as you set the glass on the table. His large hand wrapped around your wrist as you began to leave, stopping you in your tracks. You turned back to face him, shooting him a questioning look, eyebrows raised.

“I think you’ve had enough, y/n.” Sam’s voice was stern as his downturned eyes bore into your own. You scoffed at him. Anger seeped into your body, boiling in your veins. Who was he to cut you off?

“Excuse me?” You bit back at him, tone venomous as you tried to pull your wrist from his grasp to no avail. He wasn’t budging, his hand like a vice around your wrist.

Still holding onto you he rose out of his seat coming face to face with you. “God, how blind are you?!” His voice was hushed so as to not draw attention, but his tone was cutting, teeth clenched. You stared at him, eyes wide, confused and not daring to speak. You had never seen Sam so angry before, and especially not so quickly.

“You don’t see it, do you? Of course you don’t, you’re so self-absorbed in your own sorrow to even notice.” His hand finally let go of your wrist at his last word slicing through the air. You stood there shocked and shaking from anger.

“What the hell are you-“

“Forget it, y/n.” Sam shook his head before he stormed off towards the exit of the reception hall. You stood there for just a moment as he walked by before you turned on your heel and stormed after him. Thankfully no one noticed the interaction between the two of you as they were all watching the happy couple dance.

Sam exited the hall through a small door that led out into the foyer of the building with you hot on his heels. The room was dark, only being lit from the moon and lightning flashes as a thunderstorm rolled in. “Go away, y/n. Leave me alone.” He spat as he continued to walk towards the exit of the building, crossing the room quickly due to the stride of his long legs.

“No! What the hell are you talking about?! Why are you so angry?” You practically yelled and he stopped in his tracks, one hand resting on each of the giant double doors that lead outside. He shook his head and gave a cold, mirthless laugh as a flash of lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the mostly empty room for a short, fleeting moment.

“That’s exactly it! Don’t you get it? You don’t even realize!” He pushed away from the door, turning back to walk towards you.

“Realize what, Sam?!”

“What the hell does a man have to do to be loved by you?!” He stopped in front of you, his face less than a foot from your own, breaths coming out heavy and uneven. His tone was angry and frantic, but his face was sad and pleading. Desperate, wanting. Begging.

“Tell me! Enlighten me, please! What do I have to do for you to love me back?!” You felt your entire body turn cold and rigid as Sam confessed his love to you, a small gasp hung in the back of your throat.

“You always come to me crying. Angry. Longing… And it kills me everytime! I hate seeing you cry. I hate knowing that when we hang up you cry yourself to sleep because I know you hate sleeping alone. I am in agony over you, constantly. So what do I have to do?” His voice was as pleading as his eyes this time. All of him begging for you to see him. To love him. To love him the way he loved you. You began to feel your throat and chest tighten as tears pricked your eyes.

“What more do I need to do to show you that you are loved? That I love you?! That I have always loved you? You want someone to look at you like that? I do. I have always been right. here.” He punctuated the last two words with anger and sorrow causing you to blink as they flew from his mouth.

“Sam, I- I never-“ You began to speak, but Sam cut you off.

“You never what? Noticed?” He spat, causing you to recoil slightly and take a step back as you nodded your head.

“You never noticed because you’re too busy watching happy couples and feeling sorry for yourself! Maybe if you looked at me, you would’ve noticed I’ve been looking at you. Waiting for you.” You stood still letting what he said sink in. He was right. You had been so self-absorbed that you didn’t realize Sam had been there all along.

Every bad date, every phone call, all the times you cried to him and he would suggest there was someone out there who loved you, that your time for love was maybe around the corner. While you had been waiting for love, he had been waiting for you. Waiting for you to notice him. To love him.

Tears uncontrollably rolled down your cheeks as you stood there in silence, staring at one another while lightning illuminated the room more frequently, the storm approaching faster. Sam instantly softened at the sight of tears littering your face, beginning to smear your makeup.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Please don’t cry, Angel.” He sighed, raising his hands up to your cheeks to pat away the tears as they continued to fall, not wanting to ruin your makeup any further.

“No, Sam, you’re right. I’ve only been thinking of myself. All I ever do is talk about my feelings and what’s wrong with me and my love life. Not only have I been a terrible friend, but I’ve also been missing what's right in front of me.” You brought your hand to lay over his, leaning your face into his touch and closing your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I truly don’t deserve you in any way.”

“Hey, don’t do that. Look at me, Angel.” He lifted his hand from your face to skirt his fingers down your cheek to the underside of your jaw and finally stopped under your chin, angling your face up to his. His other hand dropped to your hip, resting lightly. Your eyes fluttered open instantly being met with his milk chocolate irises, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi.” He breathed out as his hand under your chin fell to rest on your other hip, holding you close to him.

“Hey.” It came out as a broken whisper, barely audible, even to your own ears.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Okay?” His breath fanned across your face while he spoke, and you nodded your head giving him permission. His right hand snaked up from your waist to cradle the back of your neck as he leaned in closer, sending chills across your body. His lips were soft and gentle against your own, and you found yourself melting into him. The kiss only lasted a few moments before he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and sighing, eyes still shut. You felt as though you were frozen in time, stuck like this for an eternity, overtaken by his presence. His intoxicating, woodsy smell mixed with a hint of cologne, the way his hands felt on you, how beautiful he was with his eyes closed, and content.

“Sam?”

His eyes met yours at the mention of his name being whispered into the air.

“Yeah?” He whispered back, eyes flicking between yours trying to gauge your reaction. Your hand found purchase on his cheek, cupping the left side of his face.

“Kiss me again?”

“Anything for you, Angel.” A smile stretched across his face before he leaned in once again to kiss you. His lips met yours, gliding against your own with a feeling of something deeper behind this kiss than the first. It was more passionate, hungry even. His tongue swept across your bottom lip eliciting a sigh from you which Sam swallowed down as he took the opportunity to let his tongue roam the inside of your mouth, trailing along the roof. Your brain finally catching up, your tongue met his. Sam’s fingers dug into your waist at the feeling of your tongues dancing against one another, and pulled you impossibly closer.

He pulled away again, this time bringing his lips to your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to kiss you. What do you say we get out of here?” His breathing was labored and heavy against your skin sending tingles throughout your body.

“I’d like that very much.” You beamed, Sam taking your hand in his and leading you out into the stormy night where rain was pouring from the heavens, effectively soaking you both from head to toe. Without a care for the rain falling from the sky, Sam stopped abruptly using his grasp on your hand to pull you into him, kissing you for a third time that night, his lips spreading into a smile mid-kiss.

“Sam, what’re you doing? We’re going to get soaked out here.” You smiled into the kiss as well, a giggle bubbling past your lips.

“Just wanted to kiss you in the rain is all.” He pushed the strands of damp hair out of your face with both of his large hands, peppering it with kisses as he did so causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter.

“Think we could do this in your car? I kinda have to return this dress.” You laughed as you felt a shiver begin at the top of your skull and travel down your spine, making your whole body shake. Sam shrugged his blazer off and draped it around your shoulders, smiling at you sweetly, although it didn’t do much as it was already wet and cold from the weather. He placed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before intertwining his fingers with your own and dragging you off towards his car.

“Anything for you, Angel.”

——————————

add yourself to my taglist!

[mountsmase]

Mmm

He broke up with you cause he thought you weren't the right one (maybe his family/friends kept telling him how they didn't see him as happy as he was with his ex so he lets them get onto his head)

One day you're at the birthday party of a friend in common and he is there too (his family and friends who didn't like you too)

Maybe this friend has a little girl, let's say around 2 years old, and as soon as she sees you arrive, she runs towards you and doesn't let go all afternoon. Mason obviously keeps looking at you and thinking how stupid he was cause he can see you as the woman of his life, as his wife, as the mother of his little future girl....

So maybe once you go upstairs to put the little baby in bed, he follows you? And he is begging you to let him talk and explain. So you're like ok you have 5 minutes

And he is apologising and telling you why he did what he did, and begging you to give him another chance to show you how much he cares and needs you, but once the 5 minutes end you're like "are you done?". He is a but taken aback, so he just nods, thinking you'll tell him something, but you just tell him ok and leave

Then I don't know, so do your magic and add what you think would happen😂🤭

oh 🥹 I love this

when he’s breaking up with you you’re obviously very upset and heart broken, but you feel like you can’t argue with him over it considering that he keeps mentioning his family and friends, so you just have to let it happen because no matter how much you love him you’d never want to jeopardise his relationship with his family, it would kill you every day to know that you’ve come between them so as much as it hurts you accept that maybe it’s just not meant to be 🥺

but you’re also a little confused…like he seems unsure about what he’s saying and it’s almost like he’s having to convince himself as well as you that breaking up is the right thing to do

Maybe you’re the little ones god mother, you’ve been friends with her mum since birth and her husband/the dad is friends with Mase which is how you connected in the first place, so you’re expecting to see him there and he’s not surprised to see you but what does come as a shock is how many of his family and friends are there as well…

you’d feel a little intimidated being around them all considering that Mason told you they don’t like you and you don’t want to have to interact with any of them or make it awkward so you occupy yourself with entertaining your little god daughter for the afternoon, playing outside with her on the little swing set, taking her away from the noise and into her playroom to do some colouring, making sure she’s had enough to drink and eat, basically just looking after her so that her parents can enjoy their party without needing to worry, and you dont mind at all because you love her so much and it brings you so much joy spending time with her, it’s the perfect distraction

Little do you know though that Mason keeps catching you out of the corner of his eye, eyes constantly being drawn to your smile and the way you’re being so good with her and he can’t help but think about what he threw away…the future he gave up when he broke up with you

he’s been feeling terrible since the break up anyway, knowing deep down that he made a huge mistake and wanting you back every second, seeing you there just reminds him of what he’s lost and it kind of gives him a kick up the ass and it’s the push he needs to do something about it and get his girl back

like you mentioned you take the little girl upstairs and run through her nighttime routine with her, giving her a bath and getting her into her PJs before reading her a story and getting her to sleep. You’re just leaving her bedroom when Mason comes up the stairs looking for you and you don’t really know what to say or do, having done so well avoiding him all day but now he’s in front of you and you have no choice but to speak to him

He asks to talk and you decide to give him a chance to explain, joining him either sitting at the top of the stairs or maybe you go into the guest room for a little more privacy and he tells you every thing, kind of shocked by the fact you’re just sat there with a blank expression and when he finishes and you get up and walk out he’s so upset and mad at himself for even thinking he had a chance to get you back

but the only reason you left and walked away is because of how overwhelmed you’re feeling, he just told you all of this stuff about still loving you and wanting you back and how his family have since apologised for the way they treated you and spoke about you, at the end of the day they just got protective over their little boy and they never intended for it to get to this point. You just needed a moment to think about everything and process what he’s told you.

You know deep down that you’re going to give into him but you just need a bit of time to stop and think before making any silly decisions

It takes him a little while to come back downstairs, having his own little pity party in the guest room for a bit before joining everyone again and he can feel your gaze on him as soon as he walks back outside, finding you sat around the fire pit with your bestie chatting away to her but you’re looking right at him, a look in your eyes that he can’t quite read and he wants to come over and try and talk to you again but he decides against it, knowing he shouldn’t push you to much

I love to think that this would end with you just deciding enough is enough and no longer wanting to put yourself through the misery when all you want is him, the party would be dying down and you’d go and find him, taking his hand and dragging him inside to and empty room and just kissing him

but that seems a little over the top and a bit too much like the movies so it would probably be more like this…

You’d take a bit of time to process your thoughts before finding him and you’d still take his hand and lead him inside, but you’d sit him down and tell him how you’re feeling and what you’re expecting/wanting if you give it a second go because you don’t want to go through the heart break again if he decides to break it off a second time, and by the end of the conversation you’ve both put your hearts on the table, saying everything you feel and need to say before ultimately deciding to get back together because you both just miss and love each other so much, but you agree to take it slow, basically starting again with a few dates before things get too serious again

I’m not normally the best at angst but I loved this concept so so so much 🤭 thanks bestie

[mandragoreos]

Thoughts on Rule of Rose being a game of a “Men’s Cruel World”

IN NO WAY IS THIS TO SHAME SOMEONES THEORY, FEELINGS OR STATEMENT OF THIS GAME! I JUST WANTED TO GIVE MY THOUGHTS AND OPINION ON A GAME THAT IS EQUALLY NEAR AND DEAR TO MY HEART

I just wanted to say, I love and adore everyone’s theories and perspectives on this game, picking at each other’s brains is always fun and great, I just saw someone’s post on the Twitter Machine and wanted to give my two sense since it would be a lengthy post.

“A Men’s Cruel World” is a broad statement in my opinion, what could this be leading to? Is it to show that ‘Women’ live in a Men ‘dominated’ world? Is it referring to “The Male gaze” how in some Men’s POVs Women and girls are viewed in an over SEXUALIZED state Possibly! Unfortunately the post I’m referring to was quite vague and didn’t elaborate on their statement or give references on their narrative.

The two men we see in Rule of Rose are Gregory and Hoffman

Gregory to me is equally a Victim and someone who is guilty of his own crimes, while Gregory did take a small Jennifer into his home, dress her up and use her as a “replacement” for Joshua, his son that he lost, Gregory is also struggling with a lot of inner turmoil, we see in his home there is alcohol bottles, alluding to him not being in a clear state of mind, Gregory most likely drinking any form of guilt, sadness, or anger away, he is constantly struggling with reality, Jennifer? Joshua? Jennifer? Joshua? He lost his son, and we wants his son, he can’t come to terms with the reality that his son is gone, his son is here, he looking right at him…no, that’s not Joshua, this is Jennifer, who are you? While Gregory did abduct Jennifer, he never HARMED Jennifer when she was a child, she had a roof over her head, clothes, food, bare necessities, yes. Though his home was unnerving, Gregory never seemed to have any intention of HARMING Jennifer, since he viewed her as Joshua.

You could argue the “what about that cut scene where he hurts Brown and Jennifer!?”

We as the Player and Viewer of the game don’t know WHERE and WHEN this scene is to take place. We see Jennifer and Brown snooping around Gregory’s home, we seen Jennifer as 19 in this scene too, and something to keep in mind with Rule of Rose is Jennifer’s memories are fragmented, she herself is trying to make sense of her past just as much as we are. So I don’t view this cut scene as anything important, more so a “what if” type of thing

But to me this doesn’t fit in with the narrative, in my personal opinion, though do feel free to give your thoughts!

And some may ask, Well what about the Orphanage incident? Gregory caused lots of harm there! As a reminder, Gregory is not in a sound state of mind, easily manipulated and abused. Like Jennifer, Gregory was manipulated by Wendy in this situation, Wendy used Gregory’s love for his son and antagonized the grieving father to cause harm. While he was in the wrong, I don’t view this as anything of “living in a men’s cruel world”

This situation would be for a future discussion on ROR and Wendy’s character.

Let’s move onto Hoffman, since I’ve talked about Gregory enough

Hoffman is a character that I could understand where this narrative or statement of a “men’s cruel world” could come from

Hoffman is a character we see demean the children of the orphanage, Jennifer especially, referring to her as “filthy” or even lazy and trying to get out of her chores. Hoffman is someone we see have his interests on two characters, Diana and Clara, both being hinted at and implied of being victims of his abuse. Clara especially

do keep in mind like I stated with Gregory, we as the Player and Viewer of the game are seeing this from 19 year old Jennifer reminiscing on her fragmented and repressed Childhood. So Jennifer’s memories may also not be a reliable narrative too, since she is technically still a child overlooking these traumatizing memories.

We see Hoffman quite handsy with Clara and Diana, talking down to them on more than one occasion, Hoffman gravitates quite a lot towards Clara do to her more meek and vulnerable nature, an easier target for him unfortunately, while Diana being more bold and less likely to stand down for things, also does have her moments of weakness and being an easy target, the two are children at this time as well.

Clara’s mermaid form does give some look into the torment she’s received, seeing many symbolizing traits of someone who has been harmed emotionally, physically, and even sexually. Her “tail” being her legs tied closed, her “gills” being deep cuts, and of course the bile everywhere, many theorize Clara was given an abortion since she becomes very fearful and disgusted if Jennifer snoops around the med bay, keeping prying eyes away from the drawer, with who knows what lays inside.

While Hoffman was a very impactful moment in the game, and memorable, I still can’t see this as a strong enough argument of Rule of Rose being a game focused and centered around a “men’s cruel world” While these moments are awful and disgusting, like Hoffman, these aren’t the focal points in the game.

Rule of Rose is a game centered around the fragmented and disjointed memories of Jennifer’s past, The Aristocrat Club and Wendy being the source of her torment and what it’s like growing up around cruel children. Children can and are unrelenting, Children are some of the harshest bullies out there in the world because they don’t understand right from wrong, they don’t understand at that early of an age. They’re told they “shouldn’t” do certain things, but do they understand the intentions behind actions?

That will definitely have to be a topic for another post, since this one is getting quite lengthy as it is

But! Let me know your thoughts and opinions!

Remember, be kind to yourself, treat yourself, and stay hydrated~

- Belli

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

'Life' as a Ghost Drabbles: She's an Evil Killer Ghost Now

Summary: Groves and Conductor are setting up to film in Subcon. Groves has some doubts.

[A/N] A Halloween drabble! Really almost any drabble for this fic could be considered Halloween appropriate but it still counts as special because I said so.

~

Usually Grooves preferred to film in a real location as opposed to on a set. Real places brought a more authentic charm to the scene and the challenges they came with, such as weather and the like, encouraged creative solutions that sometimes made the movie better. Subcon Forest though was a different story.

It was creepy, yes, good for a horror movie, but it was also dangerous. The only reason they were allowed here at all was because of Hat Kid. If not for her, they’d all have had their souls snatched long before they could even begin the set up process. Unlike almost everyone else who’d entered the forest though, they were just fine, perfectly safe and all set up and ready to film once their post set up lunch break was done. All because Hat Kid vouched for them. A lot was riding of their trust of her.

Too anxious to mill about with the jittery crew – a lot of the owls in particular were swiveling their heads a bit too much – Grooves retreated to the director’s tent. Conductor was already inside, standing at the little table waiting for his personal coffee machine to finish brewing.

Grooves walked up to stand right beside him so he could lean in and whisper. “Conny, darling, you ever consider how bad of an idea this might be?”

“Nah, this is a great pecking idea. Once everyone hears we filmed on location in the real Subcon, they’re gonna flock to our movie.”

“Okay, yes, true.” That’s why Grooves had agreed to it. The potential money they could get from it would help the studio quite a bit. “Hat Kid’s the only thing keeping us safe though and uh… I did kinda try to kill her that one time. What if she wants revenge?” Ghosts were known for wanting vengeance after all, right? Unfinished business and whatnot.

Conductor scoffed. “Are ya kidding? That lass is why too nice to hold a grudge that long. ‘Sides, you failed and she’s dead now ‘cause of that mustached girl or whatever. If she wants revenge on anyone it’d be her killer, not the guy who failed at it.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call her ‘nice’ if she’s in league with the Snatcher. I’m pretty dang sure she’s killed people. It could just be rumors and they do say it’s mostly just Mafia goons but for a child even killing just bad guys isn’t a mark of being ‘nice’.”

“All right, all right, fair enough. She’s an evil killer ghost now but we’re on her good side. We should try to stay that way, ‘specially if we can get a good movie outta it.”

“You’re on her good side. I don’t know about me.” The fact that Grooves had believed killing her could be undone with the Time Piece didn’t make it okay. He’d messed up real bad there and regretted it and would regret it even move if she happened to still hold a grudge. “I’ve already apologized but what if it’s not enough?” That had been before she’d died and become a ghost after all. “Should I do it again? What if that reminds her of it though and she decides to do something about it this time?”

Conductor reached over and patted him on the shoulder. A rare show of sympathy from him. “You’re fine. The Snatcher tried to kill her too remember? And she’s now basically his adopted daughter. She already said she don’t mind back when you apologized the first pecking time. You don’t gotta do it again. If it’ll help though, I’ll talk to her in private ‘bout it. Ask her if she’s still upset or whatever.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too sappy ‘bout it though. It’s only ‘cause you’re pecking obnoxious when you’re anxious. I got better things to do with me time than constantly assure you that the lass ain’t out to get ya. So better to get it all the way outta the way now.”

“Thank you, Conny, really. I appreciate it.” It wouldn’t ease all his worries about spending so much time in Subcon but an assurance that Hat Kid wasn’t planning something nefarious would help a lot.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort After a Nightmare

Summary - Part 45 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: In case I haven’t been saying it enough lately, I just wanted to let you guys know how much I appreciate you all: all your likes, comments, reblogs and even if you’re a silent supporter I appreciate you all the same. You guys constantly remind me why I love writing so much. So, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this week’s chapter. 

Back at Garth’s place you and Dean unpack the groceries and then you go upstairs to check on the girls. You watch them playing with dolls from the doorway for a while before they notice you. When Destiny looks at you, you wander in and take a seat on the end of Gertie’s bed.

“Hey girls, having fun?” you ask.

They both nod and then Destiny asks, “You get everything you need?”

“Yep. Dean and I will have plenty of human food to eat. Just let me know if you girls want lunch. I’ll let you play.” As you stand up you hear a little stomach growl. “Sounds like someone is hungry?” you ask as you look between them.

They both nod again. Your heart aches a little at how good they look as sisters and you question whether or not you will get to bring her home, even with Dean finally on board. “Yeah, I am hungry,” Destiny says quietly.

“Me too!” Gertie adds.

“Alright then. Let’s see if we can find you both something to eat. Come on.”

The girls quickly pack up the dolls and then follow you downstairs to the kitchen where you find Bess already plating up some lunch. 

“Have you girls washed up? We might be wolves but we still value hygiene,” she adds looking at you. You smile as the girls run off to wash their hands in the bathroom. You stay and help Bess set the table and get lunch ready. You make sandwiches for yourself and Dean. 

Once the table is set you ask the girls to get the men from the lounge for lunch and then you all sit down for another lovely meal. 

Towards the end of the meal, you start to feel like an intruder in Garth and Bess’s little wolf pack. Destiny fits in so well, opening up slowly about some of her memories which they can understand and relate to. Dean notices you zoning out and squeezes your knee under the table. You give him a small, forced smile and start to stack your dishes. 

He leans over and whispers in your ear, “Whatever is best for her, remember. Be strong, Sweetheart.”

You nod and pull away to take your dishes to the kitchen, trying your best not to interrupt the conversations. As you start to do the dishes, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Don’t hide in here. Just ‘cause she’s opening up, doesn’t mean her mind is made up. You need to prepare yourself for it. But don’t get too stressed or upset about it yet. Just give her a chance to adjust.”

“Thanks, Dean. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart. Need a hand?”

You nod your head in the direction of the tea towels and he helps you dry up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that night, you’re snuggled up with Dean in the guest room bed. The house is quiet and peaceful. Everything feels uncharacteristically good for once as you lay on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. You eventually start to drift off, when you hear a soft knock at the door. You feel Dean’s muscles instantly stiffen beneath you. You pat his chest and get up. 

On the other side of the door, you find a startled Destiny. You kneel down to her height and pull her into a hug. “What’s wrong Sweetie?”

“I-I had a nightmare.”

You see the tears and hug her tighter. “Come here. You can stay with us tonight. And we’re here if you wanna talk about it.”

She shakes her head and grips onto your arms. You lead her to the bed where Dean is now sitting up watching the scene in front of him. He reaches down beside the bed and slips his T-shirt back on feeling very self-conscious and aware of the child crawling into his bed. 

Destiny seems to understand his apprehension and stops and stares at him. “Sorry,” she whispers, “I can try to go back to-”

He puts his hand on her knee making her stop. “It’s alright. We both have nightmares sometimes too.”

You mouth the words “thank you” to him as he looks up at you, he nods and holds the blanket up to let Destiny crawl under it and get comfortable. Once she’s settled you climb in beside her. Dean lays his left arm out across the pillows above her head to reach your cheek. Laying on your side to face him you mouth “I love you” and he smiles.

“Good night, sweet girls,” Dean says softly as he adjusts on his back and closes his eyes.

Destiny snuggles into your side so you drape your arm over her shoulders so she knows you’re there and she’s not alone. This warms your heart as you drift off to sleep, imagining the three of you as a happy family in a little house with a nice backyard. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’re sitting on a swing chair on the patio with an open book in your lap, a jug, three glasses of homemade lemonade and a plate of fresh cookies on the table beside you. You look up and watch your husband as he pushes a lawnmower methodically across the lawn in straight lines as a little girl and a fluffy dog run around the yard dodging him. You rest a hand on your sizeable stomach as you smile at the scene in front of you. 

As if sensing your eyes on him, Dean glances over at you and blows a kiss. You blush. Then Destiny and the energetic dog come bounding up the stairs, stopping just short of the table. She sculls a glass of lemonade as the dog laps at a water dish on the ground. 

“May I have a cookie?” Destiny asks once she finishes drinking. 

“Of course. Yours are on the right, give one to Woolfie too,” you tell her.

“Alright. Thank you. Is the baby kicking?” she asks as she takes a cookie. 

“Not at the moment. I’ll let you feel next time it does.”

“Okay!” She offers the dog a cookie and then puts her own in her mouth before running back into the yard.

“Be careful running with food in your mouth!” you call out to her.

Once Dean mows the final strip he shuts off the machine and wipes his hands on his jeans. He climbs up the stairs to sit beside you. He rests his hand with yours on your belly and kisses your cheek. You reach over for a glass of lemonade and hand it to him. 

He takes a sip and then grumbles, “It’s not the same as a cold beer…”

“If you want beer they’re in the fridge. But don’t go expecting your pregnant wife to get it for you,” you tease.

“Course not, Sweetheart.” He finishes his glass and goes to put it on the floor but you take it and put it on the bench then you hand him a cookie.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A squirming beside you startles you awake. You look over at the restlessly sleeping girl beside you and gently rub your hand down her arm. As you watch her start to settle you try to reminisce about the perfect life your subconscious created. It felt so real, but also so hard to believe. You look over at Dean, still surprisingly fast asleep. You smile. Maybe you don’t need that exact perfect dream life. Maybe your perfect is right here; you’re married to the love of your life, looking to adopt a little girl and try to reduce or stop hunting. 

Destiny starts to stir again, but this time more peacefully. Her eyes blink open a few times before her gaze settles on you.

“Good morning, Sweetie,” you say quietly. 

She frowns. “I’m sorry I disturbed you last night. I…I…”

“It’s okay. We all get nightmares sometimes. Especially when you’ve been through as much as you have and we have. I know this all must be so hard for you, but you’re not alone okay. This is all very new to us but we want to be there for you and help you in any way you need.”

She nods. “Can I-Can I stay with you?”

“You don’t want to stay here with Garth and Bess and Gertie?”

“They’re nice. I can…But I…”

“How about you give it another day before you make a decision?” You sit up and she crawls into your lap. You wrap your arms around her. “I-We just want what’s best for you. If that’s with us, great. If it’s here with a pack, that’s perfectly fine too.”

She snuggles into your embrace, curling up like a ball,  making herself smaller. You feel a warm hand on your thigh so you smile over at Dean, acknowledging him. 

“Morning,” he drawls, his voice raspy and full of sleep. He sits up and stretches his arms out then looks over at you noticing the pup curled up in your lap. He fights the urge to pat her on the head, opting to keep his hands to himself. He leans over and kisses the top of your head. “I’m gonna shower and then go see about breakfast,” he says as he pulls away. 

You nod as you watch him get up and gather his things. As he gets to the door he glances back at you and Destiny. A small smirk teases the corner of his lips.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 23

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 23/?? Word Count: 1857]

[CW: Drug abuse, addiction, gaslighting]

—————

Two weeks later, Blitzo sent another letter. It was thinner than the first. Barb gave it the same treatment, ‘RETURN TO SENDER’. The next one was even thinner, probably just one page in the envelope.

After she had that one sent back, he started sending postcards. Mostly they were generic landscape images from across the Rings. But not being in an envelope meant she saw snippets of the text on the blank side. Barb let Fizz know that Blitzo was sending mail, but never the content.

She didn’t mean to read any of them, but checking the address meant seeing what was written. There was a theme of ‘sorry, please talk to me, let me explain, I’m sorry, text, call, so sorry,’ in his scribbled handwriting. Knowing their dad’s account of events, her brother’s repeated requests for forgiveness just infuriated Barb.

She saw there were a few that mentioned her and their mom. Blitzo was asking if Fizz knew where they were. You’d know if you’d stuck around, traitor, she thought bitterly as she sent the postcards to be shredded. 

The frequent reminders of Blitzo’s existence kept her off balance. And Fizzarolli was spending more time in Lust. He kept denying any emotional attachment to Asmodeus but Barb saw the difference in how he talked about the Sin.  His absence left her somewhat at loose ends in her downtime.

The other survivors from their circus had scattered; few wanted to stay in Greed with all the established gangs and corruption. Barb, not wanting to be alone constantly, found other demons that shared her interests. One of those interests being drug use was incidental. 

After seven months, the postcards arrived less frequently. Barb didn’t really notice; she had access to stronger stuff and was getting fucked up on a regular basis. Fizz was paying her enough that she could afford it… for now. But as the next pageant got closer, she started missing more days.

At first it didn’t matter too much. Her friend was off being Ozzie’s boy toy. The PR team was finally filtering the mail somewhat. And just before the pageant, Blitzo sent a card saying, ‘I’ll leave you alone Fizz. You know where to find me. I’m sorry.’ That was one less stressor; Barb celebrated with a weekend long bender.

She managed to be clean for a few days before and after the clown pageant. She was able to function as Fizz’s security the whole time. Once again, he won. Once again, Mammon immediately signed him on with a year long contract.

This year though, the king of Greed had some things to talk about concerning Fizzarolli’s assistant. Whisking him behind closed doors for the rigamarole of the contract was the perfect moment to plant seeds of doubt about Barb in his mind.

“Y’know Fizzy, that assistant o’ yours…I know she’s your friend but she’s been slacking big time,” he said as they signed and initialed pages. “I’d hate for someone from your past to take advantage of you, yah?” Mammon had a look of intense concern as he finished his portion of the contract.

“I-I’ll talk to her, Mammon sir.” Fizz was already worried about Barb. He knew she’d gotten hooked on painkillers after the fire. She’d been sober for years but he could see the signs popping up. And if Mammon noticed, things were getting worse.

“Good boy Fizzy! ‘Cause we’re gonna be real busy again and we don’t need c**ts coasting off your success.”

The day after the pageant saw Fizz in Lust again, working with Ozzie on updating the Fizzies. Asmodeus took him out for lunch again. He’d told Mammon before the contest that he’d need the whole day with the winner for their work, preventing his fellow Sin from interrupting anything.

After lunch, Ozzie sprung an offer on Fizz. “I’d like you to work at my lounge club, Froggie. Get you some experience outside the Greed Ring and away from all those creeps.”

Fizz waved a dismissive hand. “Psh, I’ve always had creeps around, it’s not that big a deal. Besides, Barb’s got my back.”

“Yeeeeeeaaaah, about that,” Asmodeus said slowly.

“Oh not you too Oz! Mammon was just bitching to me last night about her!”

“Hey, I’m just saying…she’s having a bad time lately. I’m not gonna pry, but if even Mam has picked up on it? Your girl needs help.” Ozzie cupped Fizz’s cheek. “Look, I know she’s important to you. You’re basically family right?” Fizz nodded. “So I want to help. And moving you both out of Greed is a good way to start.”

Fizz sighed. “Yeah, she’s never really liked it there anyway. I can’t make her do anything though.”

“You know me babe; I ain’t about forcing anyone. Unless she’s in deep shit, too deep to handle or putting herself in danger? you gotta let her make her choices.” He leaned back in their private booth. “I’m serious about working at my lounge though. You’d make a great M.C. Fizzy-frog.”

Fizz agreed to perform at Ozzie’s, with the frequent scheduling starting in a few weeks. He had prior commitments with Mammon to take care of first. Doing nightly shows at the lounge would mean moving to Lust.

Before that, he wanted to talk with Barb. The first chance he got was almost a week later, after they were done at Mammon’s for the day. Fizz had to steal himself to talk to his friend so he went to her apartment after hyping himself up via a phone call with Asmodeus.

Barb, meanwhile, had taken a hit of her current drug of choice as soon as she got home. It was the first big high she’d had in the past two weeks. When Fizz showed up at her door unannounced, she could feel the drugs hitting her system. Although he looked serious and she was trying to focus on what he said, the chemical filter in her veins meant she really only caught a few words. Kind of like those snippets of Blitzo’s postcards.

“Barb, I know you’ve got a problem. You’ve been using drugs again, I can tell. We need to get you help, but we can’t do it here. Asmodeus offered me a gig, I’ll need to move to Lust. Please, come with me. I can’t stand seeing you destroy yourself. We’ll get away from all this shit in Greed. Get you some fucking help.”

Barb tried to string together what he was saying. What truly stuck with her was he was moving. Leaving for Lust and Asmodeus. Away from her. She growled angrily. “Urrrgh! Fine, go fuck off with your royal sugar daddy! I don’t need you!” She pushed him away from her. Her intoxication meant she didn’t have much control of her strength. Her push knocked him against the wall; if he hadn’t hit it with his prosthetic arm, it would have left bruises.

She stomped to the door and yanked it open. “Get the fuck out Fizz. The other imp looked stricken so she pushed him again. This one sent him into the hallway. Barb slammed the door shut, locked it and  put the chain on. He had a spare key, but even his extendable arms would struggle with the chain. She pressed her back against the door and slid down it as Fizz knocked desperately. He kept saying her name but she didn’t respond. She just curled up, silent and crying.

Eventually, he was gone. Her sense of time was completely distorted. Maybe it had been an hour, maybe just a couple minutes. She just wanted to forget about everything again. Fortunately, past Barb had picked up a baggie full of little friends from her dealer that were very good at helping her forget.

A few days later, she’d come down enough to realize she had to go work. That many pill-shaped friends weren’t cheap. But when she got to Mammon’s main offices, her keycard didn’t work. Barb tried multiple times, flipping the card in different directions but she continued to get error sounds. She was ready to punch the scanner when the door opened smoothly.

The shark demon that stepped out towered over Barb. “What do you want?” No politeness, just blunt demanding attitude.

“I want to get to work. Why isn’t my keycard working?” She waved the offending piece of plastic in front of the shark’s snout.

His concentric ringed eyes focused on the card, reading her name. “Barb Buckzo. Yeah, your position’s been…terminated.” He gave her a leering grin and flicked the card. His claw hit with enough force to send it spinning out of her hand and down the street.

“The fuck d’you mean, ‘terminated’? I’m Fizz’s  assistant and bodyguard!”

“Not no more. You haven’t been here for a week. Mr. Fizzarolii and Lord Mammon don’t need some lazy ass coasting on her buddy’s success.” He straightened up to his full height. The shark crossed his arms and continued to match her glaring look. “So you’re out, shoulda got a termination letter in yer mail.” 

Her jaw dropped. Those assholes! “I wanna talk to Fizz. Right now!” She tried to push past the beefy shark, but he outweighed her and Fizz combined. 

“Mr. Fizzarolli is busy. Lord Mammon is free for the next ten minutes if you wanna talk to him.” Barb growled, a rumbling hiss coming from her chest. “Thought so.” The shark went back inside and the door slid shut behind him.

Barb stood there, chest heaving. She had mostly come down from her high and there was no drugged filter between her and her emotions. After a few minutes of glaring at the locked doors, she started hurling nearby rocks at the building. Her aim was still good from all those years in the circus. But those doors were designed to withstand bullets; a valid concern with all the turf wars likely to pop up in this Ring.

All the rocks in Hell wouldn’t do much to the structure. Barb didn’t care; if anything it made her madder. She kept hurling the same rocks over and over, screaming obscenities all the while. Until she threw one that ricocheted back, hitting her directly on her circus brand and knocking her on her butt.

She sat there, dazed. The pain on her forehead belatedly hit and she rubbed the spot to find ichor welling from the scratch. “Fine. FINE, YOU HEAR ME! YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES! HAVE FUN BEING A PAMPERED WHORE FIZZ! YOU’RE JUST LIKE THAT TRAITOR BLITZO!” Barb turned away, rubbing her upper arms with both hands as she tried to keep the anger in the forefront. She flipped of the building as she walked home.

Not that the studio apartment would be home much longer. She was behind on rent and her landlord was ready to kick her out. Checking her mail, she found the termination letter; included was her severance check. Not enough to back pay everything. But enough to find somewhere else. Something cheaper and closer to the drug dens she was visiting more often. 

Within two days, she was gone, ghosting everyone in her life.

—————

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[maskyartist]

Okay I’m making this it’s own post cause I’m fucking losing my mind, but mostly over one thing and that’s Roman Torchwick and how he’s characterized in this single moment

Now keep in mind I haven’t watched the full episode, nor have I gotten the chance to read Roman Holiday (a damn shame I know), but I don’t think I need to rn to ramble about this point cause it just hit me like a train.

CRWBY never forgot about Roman. They didn’t just kill him off and make Neo go solo.

They set this up from the start.

The fact that Neo is silent means we can never truly know what’s going on in her head. We don’t know her thoughts. We don’t know her feelings. All we knew was she was mad for Roman and went to get Cinder for it, then Ruby herself. But never the full extent of it all.

Neo’s muteness made US, the audience, almost forget about Roman to watch her perform as a side piece to a lot of the villains. Never truly forgetting, but assuming he wouldn’t be brought up again. The hat and scarf would be reminders but never would they actually mention Roman because they killed him off in such an unceremonious way.

So to actually see THIS

To see just how deep these two went, to get full in show confirmation that they were partners in every sense of the word (romantic or platonic take it how u will but I love some Gelato so this fed me well), only to have him SPEAK? It throws you off.

Not only is it confirmation that Roman was never forgotten, but it also proves one thing about Neo that I think is so important.

She had nothing beyond Roman. “One Thing” was right. She had Roman, and he was taken away from her. And for the rest of the series, through every adventure, every appearance, every moment she was and wasn’t on screen-

She was thinking of him. Remembering him. Keeping him in her thoughts.

I understand that Neo talking through Roman makes sense and that’s why he’s got the most speaking lines, but I do find it interesting that everyone else from the “dead people lineup” is so quiet. Such a caricature of themselves.

Neo never met them personally, she doesn’t even know Leo or Clover, and Penny, Pyrrha, Ironwood, and Ozpin are all based on Ruby’s own memories Wonderland is probably pulling from her. But even they’re barebones. The only ones who have speaking lines are Penny, Pyrrha, and Ozpin and they are extremely generic.

Meanwhile, Roman is fully fleshed out. A whole person. He has his attitude, his emotions, his reactions, Neo never forgot him. She never forgot his exact self.

She uses him as her mic because he was always her voice. He was the one who made things make sense.

The line “That’s what I offered her back on Remnant.” just proves how long Neo’s thought of him. Never forgetting their promises, never forgetting his words, never forgetting him.

How many nights did Neo stay up thinking of him? How many times did she create his illusion just to play pretend for a little longer?

Everyone forgot Roman. After his death, he practically never existed. Left everyone’s minds. He wasn’t important by that point because he wasn’t an immediate threat.

But Neo never forgot.

And somehow that’s more terrifying then I thought it would be… The idea of her constantly thinking about him, trying to keep him alive in her mind. It’s no longer just about Ruby killing Roman, it’s that she forgot. That’s what ticked Neo off even more, that Ruby didn’t even view what she did as important enough to remember.

“That’s what this is about?! You still blame me for What happened to Torchwick!”

As if to say “Really? That’s all this is? Just him?”

To her, it’s mockery. As if he wasn’t even worth her time when Roman meant everything to Neo. He was her whole world, judging by, once again-

“Always loved the idea of a place to run away from it all… Do whatever you want! I offered that to her back on Remnant.”

Roman took care of reality, while Neo was able to live in her fantasy world. He handled the world. She just had to live in it, perform for it, and enjoy whatever popped up next. He brought her the escape she’s always wanted. A world where no one could hurt her, no one could catch her… Just Roman and Neo. Partners in crime. In everything.

Roman was Neo’s whole world, her One Thing…and that was stolen from her.

She didn’t have the power to make that known before. But with Wonderland…she can do anything she wants.

[moonstone27ls]

Unicorn Warriors Eternal ep 9

Not giving spoiler warnings either. I’ve had a rough week too tired.

Sooo... a LOT has happened.

So physically Seng hasn’t aged (as far as I can tell) mentally or spiritually he has because of the cosmic plane or whatever.  Still part of me is convinced Morgan is in the “evil” because it goes after Melinda a LOT. 

While a part of me is okay that Edred put his feelings aside for the bigger picture. I’m gonna be honest not still sold on Winston being part of the team.

Again its not earned. Its just there for plot convenience if you read my views from ep 8. Whatever the reasons (writing/time crunch, etc), Winston in my opinion hasn’t earned it.

I thought we’d get an interesting ep where he’d have some ACTUAL character development. Have to fight being a monster. But the factor that he’s literally vocal under a short amount of time, just makes me think. “Dude you feigned that whole “Oh I’m a monster” just to get into Emma’s pants”. Before shippers or lovers bash me for even criticizing precious Winston. I’ll make it clear. I don’t hate the guy.

Separately on their own I’m actually okay with Emma/Winston. Whats bothering me is that this ridiculous love triangle is still going on. So with no real development other than to give drama, Winston just still annoying to me. Still acting like this is an outing (closest to him being serious was when he saw Melinda fight), I mean I’ll be honest his pompous attitude rubs me wrong. He’s like “Oh I’m a whiz at chess.” and “Oh I know ALL about science fantasy from my books”. I dunno its either the tone or again I REALLY hate love triangles. So for this to drag on makes it tiresome.

Ironically I feel little feeling for Winston. I’m more sorry for Edred. He’s literally given up his home/identity/ life/ and he’s finally transitioning into the factor that Emma is sharing duality with Melinda. And more importantly, the woman he sacrificed it all for... either doesn’t remember him or isn’t there.

And I’ll also say again I don’t believe Melinda has feelings for Winston. I’ve seen enough of her character. She’s literally the stereotypical tough character(I wanna say like Raven but that feels too simple). I feel like if she was in there she’d be annoyed with Winston just as she was with Emma.

And I’ll admit the duality shared here is... confusing. Its not Melinda, but its not fully Emma either. Its like watching Aang had to share his body with the previous avatars and they were all tug of waring for control.

I do give Winston points for trying to be accepting? I say trying cause again to me he still feels out of place. And the guy will only apparently be useful every full moon... sooo heh. 

But I also think this is hard for me because Tartakovsky kinda .... I don’t wanna say fails but he’s kinda... meh on romances. If this series continues I REALLY for the love of all good want the love drama dropped. 

That being said... still wonder whats the endgame in regards to Edred? I know  Tartakovsky said Melinda’s his favorite and that this story is focusing on her. Which I don’t mind, I just kinda don’t want to see Edred fallen to the waysides.

I wanna think that Edred’s love for Melinda(and vice versa) is genuine because he keeps showing us all these flashbacks with them. I feel like that’s there to solidify their relationship. And the final shot is with HIM seeing Melinda (not counting Emma cause she’s more the vessel. I know he’s not really in love with Emma) get separated. 

Now onto Melinda/Emma. I do like their story arcs. This story is shaping Melinda more out. On the exterior yes she seems the tough/warrior like sorceress. But her flashbacks from her childhood and with Edred. Show her vulnerability and the trauma thats affected her from losing her mother.

Their...duality or amalgamation is confusing me a bit. But I constantly remind myself that this is part of Tartakovsky ‘s plan and that its a metaphor for growing up.

And Emma herself I am happy with. She’s matured a lot from this experience as from the beginning. She fought this. But now she sees the bigger picture. Its bigger than her or Winston. She’s needed to help Melinda and the others fight.

Anything else.... kinda feel those incarnation descendants are probably going to be the ones to help her get to the others. Cause I don’t see any other way how she would8B. Sooo good luck next fight.

[yappingmoxie]

made a birthday post for my grandma yesterday since no one else remembered it and immediately afterwards my sister made one and really drilled in hard about how she named my newest niece after her. and idk. I’m still upset. I’ve been crying off and on about it because like. I know it wasn’t right but my grandma would tell anyone who listened how I was her favorite grandchild (and tbh I think besides it just being true she did that bc she knew how awful my mom and sister were to me) and would brag on me constantly. and my sister did nothing but talk about how annoying my grandma was and say the worst things about her right before she died. but yet she loved her so much that she forgot her birthday 2 years in a row so I mean clearly she just had to take the name I fought with her over during her first pregnancy. I’m so glad I’ve had my cousin throughout all of this because otherwise I’d feel legitimately insane. She’s been amazing at reminding me how much grandma loved me and helping reinforce that grandma and I DID have an agreement that she wanted ME to name my daughter after her if I ever had one. Everything my sister does though feels so spiteful. Like I love my niece so much and it just sucks that I can’t even spend time with her without being reminded of how much my sister wants to hurt me. I don’t blame the baby though. Like it hurts and makes interacting with her a little difficult but she’s innocent. And the thing is I wouldn’t have even minded if she named her that out of genuine love and respect for my grandma but I know she didn’t. From not letting anyone be with my grandma in the hospital when she died to putting her ashes in my fucking mailbox to telling me that my grandma hated me and I didn’t do enough for her to telling me how awful I was for taking a week off to implying I should’ve been there even tho she lied to me about her being in the hospital to withholding photos she promised me of her to ruining my grandmas house (she lets my 5 year old niece write all over the walls and keeps a million fuckin farm animals like ducks and chickens and turkeys inside when grandma didn’t even let dogs in) to asking the preacher at her funeral to say some pointed remarks about me being no contact with my mom to now using her daughters name as a direct slight against me I can’t help but feel like all she wants to do is weaponize my dead grandma against me without even worrying about how disrespectful she’s being to her as long as it hurts me. I haven’t even tried talking to about my nieces name because after confronting her about my grandmas passing I know it’ll do nothing to actually remedy anything and will just lead to even more explosive fights where I know she’ll just double down on saying things she know will hurt me. And I don’t want to argue about my grandma. I don’t want to use her memory for something disrespectful. It doesn’t feel right and doesn’t feel like honoring her in any way that she’d appreciate. I just want her to be respected. I want her name to be used for something kind and loving instead of spiteful. Because ultimately that’s what she was. My kind and loving grandma. Not a tool to cause arguments and tension. She was always the mediator in the family and I can’t help but think how disappointed she’d be to know her passing has been used in the way it has to further drive a shift in the family.