#don't know how i feel about this but here you go! i hope you don't hate it oof

[imagines-r-s]

☆somewhere only we know☆

dr. jack abbot x reader

author's note: i will say, i have so much love for this fic. def one of my favorites that i've written, so i hope you all enjoy!! (also i might write the smut to this eventually, i don't know yet though friends)

wc: 7.9k

warnings: mutual pining, crazy tension, no one doing anything about their feelings, a bit of angst?, stubborn old man

(gif not mine)

You’re not sure how the nickname came to be, but at this point everyone was saying the same thing about Jack Abbot: he had become your bodyguard. Every time that there was any sign of harm near you, low and behold, he was no more than two steps behind you to back you up. Even if you weren’t in harm, he immediately jumped into protective mode. 

The first time that it happened was at the beginning of night shift. You always got there at least 10 minutes early, just so that way you were able to stop at the cafeteria and get your usual tea, while having long enough for it to be cooled down by the time that you dropped it at the nurses station - because for whatever reason, they made their drinks piping hot. 

Today though, you were running late. Not late to the extent that it interfered with the beginning of your shift, but late enough that your tea was still piping hot by the time you made it to the Emergency Department. Even if it was placebo, you needed at least some of your tea before your shift, but you weren’t able to do that, so you were practically dragging yourself around the Emergency Room. 

”What’s wrong with you?” Abbot asked, noticing the dragging of your feet as you paraded around the nurses station for a moment. 

“My tea was hot,” you grumbled, suddenly irritated at anything and everything, which only earned a confused look in response. 

“Is it… not supposed to be?” he said, carefully examining the contents of the thermal cup that sat in front of you. 

“I mean, it’s supposed to be hot, but the cafe makes it too hot sometimes and I usually get here with enough time for it to cool off and I-“ you paused, watching as he grabbed your small pink thermal and walked over to the lounge. “Abbot, I didn’t mean throw out what I already had.”

”I’m not, kid. I’m just getting you an ice cube or two so you can calm the fuck down. I don’t want one of my best residents dragging the whole shift.”

You simply looked at him for a moment, “you think I’m one of your best residents?” A smile slowly growing on your face. 

”Don’t let it get to your head, I just don’t want you burning your tongue.”

☆

Here and there more mundane things happened, but it still showed the care and consideration that he had for you. 

The next significant time that it happened was when a multi-patient trauma came and it was all hands on deck; all hands on deck including a particular surgeon that Abbot just could not get along with. 

”What are we looking at?” she asked, storming in as if she had been seeing this patient the entire time that you and Abbot had been working on her. It was a teenage girl that was struck by the car on the passenger side of the vehicle. 

”We got this one, Walsh. Pretty sure I heard someone needed a surgeon in trauma 3,” Jack said, not wanting to deal with Walsh at this very moment. He also had the perfect opportunity to teach you something new, but he knew Walsh would immediately interfere. 

”You can’t just put your trust in any resident, especially one you show favoritism to, Abbot. It’s not wise and could kill a patient,” she said, calmly. Even though her words didn’t bother you, you still hesitated for a moment when you were handed the scalpel. 

”As I said before, Walsh, this doesn’t look like trauma 3. Go harass whatever patients are in there,” he spoke, turning towards you,”I wouldn’t let you do this one if I didn’t know that you could do it, kid. Now we don’t have time for whatever she has to say right now.”

You looked up to grab the scalpel from him, “thank you.” You earned a simple hum in response. 

You didn’t notice the way that his actions immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room, not just Walsh. Perlah made note to talk to Princess about it later. 

☆

Although you usually worked night shifts, you got called in to help just a bit earlier today - only by a few hours. Only unfortunate thing was whenever you got called in, you needed to get there as soon as you could, so that meant no tea today. 

Jack also got called in, but he was close enough to the hospital that a quick stop to the cafe wasn’t going to throw off his day - he knew you were likely 10-15 minutes out still, so he made sure that he grabbed the tea on his way in. 

Hustling in, you made sure to set your things in your locker before making it back to the nurse’s station. It wasn’t rare for you to see Dana, but it was rare for you to see her for more than 15 minutes at work.

”Dana, hi,” you immediately rounded the station to give her a hug, “I feel like I only see you in small doses anymore.”

”It’s good to see you, too, hun. No tea?”

”You know me too well, but no. I was running late in general, plus I hate being late whenever I get called in, so I didn’t-“ your words stopped in your throat as you saw a small black thermal pop into view. 

“Here, kid,” and before you could even say thank you, he caught up to talk to Robby - who didn’t miss the interaction either. 

“Oh, well. Nevermind, then?” you said, a confused look on your face, which only made Dana laugh more. “He did say I was one of his favorites, but I didn’t know that that entailed getting me my tea?”

”You’re definitely something to him,” she spoke, in true Dana fashion. “Maybe more than a favorite.”

”No, he just said I was one of his favorite residents, it wouldn’t be anything more than that,” you said, taking a sip of your tea, only to be met with silence, “Right?”

”That’s a question for him, hun. Let me know how asking goes.”

You knew you weren’t going to ask - this was just one of those mundane things that he did for you. 

“You know, I don’t get any of my residents their ‘morning’ drink,” Robby said, as he walked beside Jack. 

“Okay, well news flash, it’s actually 4:30 in the afternoon, so no morning drink here, brother,” he spoke, keeping his voice even. In all honesty, he didn’t know why he had gotten you tea. It wasn’t like he even got himself a coffee or anything, he just knew that you would need the pick-me-up before today’s shift and felt inclined to do so - for whatever reason. 

“Still doesn’t give any reason for you getting her tea,” Robby said, a slight smirk on his face, simply brought on by his friend deflecting. 

“I don’t really need to give you reasoning. I just need my favorite resident to be on point.”

”Oh, so she’s moved on from ‘one of your favorites’. I see.”

Jack could only roll his eyes in response. Of course that’s what Robby picked up on. 

☆

Loss wasn’t foreign to you. Especially in this profession - but today it hit harder. You were no stranger to the idea and concept that you can’t always save people, but for whatever reason, today was a day where you couldn’t deal with the loss. 

You had an older patient, she came in stable for a simple procedure, but something went wrong. You had walked away under the impression that she was stable, and she was, but when you were checking on another patient, you heard the nurses call and code. This had you sprinting through the ER and giving compressions for 40 minutes. 

She should have been fine. She quite literally was here for one of the easiest procedure you could perform in the ER, yet it wasn’t enough. You stayed in her room a bit too long before Jack found you. 

“You know, it’s not your fault,” you had found a point on the tiles that was more interesting than anything else. 

“Yeah, so why does it feel like it?” You hadn’t meant to be short with him, but you just couldn’t deal with it right now. You didn’t need comfort or patience, you needed someone to yell, scream, anything other than sympathy. It was somehow more draining than if someone just yelled at you. 

“Kid,” he said, stepping closer to you. He reached a hand out to your shoulder, but you nudged him off and left the room. He could only watch you walk away. He had never gotten that kind of reaction from you - part of him wanted to leave you be, but the other part was ready to chase you down to offer some kind of comfort. 

You just weren’t in the mood for it today. You were no stranger to self soothing, growing up in a place where it was every man (or woman) for themselves, so Jack trying to offer something threw you off. It wasn’t that you didn’t want the comfort, it was that you simply couldn’t accept it. 

Another reason that he wasn’t shocked to see you up on the roof, not on the side of the railing that he usually stood on though - which gave him some peace of mind. So he simply stood beside you, a peaceful silence taking over the both of you. 

He didn’t say anything, only moving his hand over just enough to where your pinkies were touching each other. 

☆

“Hi, I’m Dr. y/l/n, what brings you in today?” you asked, pulling the curtain closed, only to see one of your ex flings in the bed in front of you. It hadn’t ended badly, just ended because the mixed work schedules made a difference. ”Oh, hey, Lucas.”

”Hey, y/n/n,” the familiar nickname left his mouth as though nothing had really ever ended between you two. 

“What brings you in?” 

“Well, note that I wasn’t skateboarding at night, but I did skateboard earlier and the issue just got worse. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check that my favorite doctor was working tonight to help me out though,” he said, which only earned a laugh from you - loud enough that someone else in the ER heard. 

Jack’s ears perked up at the sound of your laugh, “which patient is she with right now?”

Ellis simply laughed in response, “don’t ask questions you don’t want to know, Abbot.”

”What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

She could only smirk in response, only because she knew exactly who you were with right now because she had seen the name when checking boards, “she’s with Lucas, if I recall correctly.”

”Who the fuck is Lucas?” he said, a look of disgust crossing his face. He thought for a moment, as he process Ellis had spoken like he should know who she was talking about. “Wait, as in that Lucas?”

She couldn’t help to hide the smirk on her face, “maybe.” The smirk turning into a laugh as she watched him shoot up from the nurse’s station to go check on a patient that likely has a simple sprain. Before he knew it, he was moving the curtain back to see you and Lucas talking. 

“No, but it’s not like anything crazy, just a small get together. We also wouldn’t have to exclusively stay with Marcus and them, I didn’t plan on it at least,” he spoke, glancing up to see the older Doctor behind you. 

“I mean, I can see what I can do. No promises though, remember, I’m a very busy woman,” you spoke, checking the bandages on his ankle. Feeling a presence behind you, you moved to check behind you, only to see Jack there. ”Oh, hey?”

”Hi,” he said, tone short and voice laced with something you couldn’t recognize. He simply kept his eyes on the patient in front of you. 

“This is Dr. Abbot, by the way. Usually, he’s at least a tad bit more personable, but he’s not really trained to deal with some people, so give him grace,” you said, earning a laugh from Lucas. 

“I gotcha. Hey, man. Are you one of her teachers or?”

”Something like that.”

Sensing whatever tension was there, you quickly just to dissolve the tension. I’m going to go check back on some results though and I’ll be right back. Dr. Abbot?” you asked, nodding your head outside of the curtain,”care to explain what the fuck that was?”

”I don’t know what you mean,” he said, looking anywhere but your face. You took a moment to examine the expression on his face before you smiled. ”What is it?”

”Did Ellis tell you who Lucas was?”

”No, but he’s been mentioned before in passing,” he spoke, tone still short. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re jealous?” He couldn’t say anything in response - he wasn’t a liar. “Oh my god, you are. I was just saying that. Wait. I have so many follow up questions.”

”And I have no follow up answers for you, y/l/n.”

☆

“Okay, wait, so you mean to tell me, that he did all that and didn’t say anything else after you said you had questions,” your friend asked. 

“I can respect top tier avoidance, but doing that without actually clarifying did not help me one bit,” you had today and tomorrow off and your friend hit you with a ‘going out, you wanna come?’ text - so who were you to say no. 

“Hmm, you know what I sense, a planned drunk text,” she said, taking another sip of her margarita. You guys had made a stop at the bar before you would go to the club, mainly to rehash, but also make sure you had enough food in your system. 

“I don’t know, that’s a little much for knowing nothing for sure,” you said, but you had already been contemplating it. 

“Okay, so then, let’s get fucked up, so you can forget about your indecisive-hot-older-doctor crush,” she said, calling the waiter over to you, so you could get your checks. 

The two of you elected to meet some more friends out at the club, mainly for the safety of having a bigger group. As the night went on, the drinks kept coming and the music kept playing, but it was a much needed break after the tension filled days and thoughts of the doctor in your head. 

By the time that your friends were considering leaving, you knew that you were done for. The thoughts of Jack that were in your head weren’t going away - in fact, your drunk, delusional brain was starting to convince you that the idea of calling him was the best idea ever. 

“Should I call him, guys?” you said, your words somehow rushed and slowed simultaneously. “I kinda want to call him.” You were immediately met with mixed reactions, but your brain chose to ignore those disagreeing. 

Before anyone could even process, your phone was open to his contact and you were pressing the call button. It might not have been your smartest decision, but here you were. The phone rang once, twice, but on the third ring he picked up.

”y/n?” his voice sounded concerned - of course it did, you never just randomly called him.

”Hi, Jack,” you said, a smile grazing your face, even though he couldn’t see it. “I just wanted to, um, to talk to you.”

”Where are you?” 

“I’m out with friends.”

”Friends? Or Lucas?”

You giggled at that, “wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy.”

A deep chuckle rang out from his side of the phone, “you think I’m pretty?”

”I think a lot about you, a lot. But, I’m not, don’t think I’m complaining about it.”

He simply sighed, “you have a safe way home?”

”Yes sir,” you said, he wouldn’t admit that it did something to him. 

“A sober driver?”

”An uber,” you said, getting into the car with your friends. The laughing in the background alerting him that you were on your way. 

“Let me know whenever you get where you’re going safely. Okay, sweetheart?”

”You called me sweetheart.”

”I know. Goodnight, y/n.”

”Goodnight, Jack,” and it wasn’t too late after that that he received a slightly misspelled text that you were home safe. 

Luckily, you were someone that didn’t get hangovers, but that didn’t make the pain of acknowledging the outgoing call to ‘Jack Abbot’ or the mistyped message saying you made it home any easier. You silently cursed yourself as you spent the day to yourself, knowing that you would have to see him tomorrow. 

Going into your shift, you prepared yourself for anything, you weren’t prepared for the small black thermal to be filled with your favorite tea, with a note signed off from ‘pretty boy’ on there. You could only shake your head knowing exactly who the note and tea was from, along with the knowledge that he probably signed it off that way because of you. 

“Pretty boy? That’s an interesting sign off,” Dana spoke from behind you. 

“Yeah, it’s something,” you spoke, folding the note and putting it in your pocket, you simply sipped on your tea. It wasn’t until you saw both Jack and Robby walk out, a smirk on both of their faces. “If you have something to say, just get it out now.”

The two of them could only cackle in response before Jack finally spoke up, “look, I just didn’t take you as the type to drunk call, y/n. That’s all… or call me pretty boy for that matter.”

You could only drink your tea and walk away in response. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll make them leave you alone,” you heard Dana say from behind you. 

Before you could process it, Jack had fallen into rhythm with you. “Where are you going, sweetheart?” 

“Nowhere in particular, pretty boy.”

”Look, I know I made fun of it, but I can’t say I hate it,” he speaks, honestly. 

“I didn’t hate you calling me sweetheart either.”

☆

 You tried to avoid her, you really did, but unfortunately Gloria was the type to always find a way to you. “Dr. y/l/n, I’m glad I could catch you before your shift actually started.”

You simply smiled, sipping on your tea, “crazy stuff, Gloria. How are you?”

”I’m good, I wanted to bring something up with you,” you remained silent, letting her continue. Looking behind her to see Jack already looking at you, “I was making sure that you knew, due to excellent patient satisfaction ratings on your part, you’ve been invited to our annual gala.”

”The one that is primarily only attendings?” you were surprised that it was being brought up to you. 

“Yes, some of the board members were extremely impressed by a lot of things on your record - patient satisfaction ratings being one of the bigger ones - but they like to see that you genuinely care about things that happen in this hospital and they were wanting to see some new faces.”

You laughed at the last part of the sentence, knowing that implied they were tired of seeing Jack and Robby being the main ones there every year. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

”You always have a choice, Doctor, but there is a wrong answer here,” she said, handing you the paper invitation. 

“Gee, thanks.” Now you had to find a dress. 

The next day, you texted Dana asking if she would be free at some point to go dress shopping with you soon before the gala, to which she was ecstatic to go with. So, the next day there was crossover in your days off - which was way too close to the gala for your liking - you went dress shopping. 

“Look, honey, all I’m going to say is that old man you’re into is going to lose it,” she said, laughing to herself once you stepped out of the dressing room. The dress was simple, but enough. A simple, long black dress with a white bow in the back to contrast. 

“Dana.”

”You know I’m right, you look good, kid.”

☆

Jack didn’t want to be here. He knew Robby didn’t want to be here either, but here they both were. Him with his whiskey, Robby choosing against drinking. “I still hate these things, I’m just waiting for Dana to get here, so she can talk shit with us like she usually does,” Robby said, speaking up first.

”Yeah, I don’t think these things will ever get anymore interesting, especially when all these donors care about are the surface level issues, never what actually matters,” Jack spoke, his eyes scanning the group of people that were here. “I just need Dana to get here to at least make sure I’m not falling asleep during all this.” 

“You know this is y/n’s first gala,” Robby said, gauging Jack’s reaction. 

A confused look came over his face, “wait, she was invited?”

”Yeah, your favorite resident isn’t just your favorite. Her patient satisfaction scores were above everyone. I know she didn’t learn that part from you.”

“Shut up, you already know that she’s one of the best that we have. She’s going to go far with whatever she decides to do,” he said, turning back towards the bar to set his now empty glass up. “I can’t wait to see where she goes in life.”

”You being a part of it? Or?” Robby wasn’t a stranger to asking Jack about you anymore. He knew his friend well enough to know that he was only hesitant of where things would go, in fear that things would end badly. Jack didn’t want to risk losing you to any extent. 

“If she wants me to be, I will be there.”

”If who wants you there, you’ll what?” he turned at the sound of your voice. His jaw dropped at how gorgeous you looked. Dana stepped into the circle after she finished talking to one of the donors. 

“She looks nice, don’t you think, Jack?” Dana asked, but she could clearly see that you had, in fact, left him speechless.

“Yeah,” he paused to gather his thoughts, “you look gorgeous, y/n.”

”Thank you, Jack. You don’t look too bad yourself,” you said, as if you weren’t absolutely losing it over the way he looked in a tux. “I really feel out of place here, I think I only talked to one other resident so far - and that was out of the five people we had to talk to to get over here.”

”You deserve to be here, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” he left it at that, watching as Dana and Robby left to go check in with Gloria. He came closer to you, unsure of what to do. He considered reaching for your hand, but as he go closer and the smell of your perfume hit him, all he could do was ball his fist before flexing his hand. ”I can’t even think straight around you during a work day, you have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my thoughts together right now.”

A smile grew on your face that he had seen countless times before, but this time was different. You weren’t any different, but the smile on your face meant something different. 

Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by Gloria swooping in, “Dr. Abbot, Dr. y/l/n, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Palmer. He was the one that saw some of your records and made sure that you were invited today,” she said, leaving the three of you alone. 

“Dr. y/l/n, I was extremely impressed when I saw and heard certain things about you. Patients love you, other doctors are incredibly impressed by you, you have a lot of potential,” he said, a cocky grin on his face that screamed ‘I have money and I hope that it shows’.

”Thank you Mr. Palmer, that means a lot,” you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. 

“Yeah, of course. You look stunning tonight, I would never miss the opportunity to ask someone so beautiful to dance,” he said, moving his hand for you to take. “Can I have this dance?”

You paused, not missing the glare that was sent in Mr. Palmer’s direction. You wanted so badly to object, but you knew this wasn’t the place that you could. “You may.”

Jack was heated. No. Correction, Jack was fuming. He could tell based off the way that he was looking at you, he wasn’t actually impressed, it was a base level statement. Unfortunately given context of time and place, he couldn’t do anything but watch from a distance. 

Robby and Dana had watched the whole interaction, moving closer to talk to Jack, but not before placing bets on how long he would last before cutting in. “You okay?” Dana asked, softly. 

“Just peachy,” his eyes didn’t leave you. He watched as the two of you started dancing, keeping watch of where he decided to set his hands - moreso how badly he wanted to be murdered. 

“You know, I told her whenever she bought the dress that it would catch your attention. Goals were achieved tonight,” Dana joked, hoping to add light to the situation, but he was still laser focused on you. 

“Yeah, it definitely caught my attention.”

You smiled to keep face, but truth was Mr. Palmer, who ironically was in fact named Chadwick, was a cocky son of a bitch that did not seem to have respect for you or any doctor for that matter. Conversing with him was nauseating, to say the least, but you knew that you had to keep up appearances - especially being a specially invited person. 

You were letting him go on and on about his recent golf experiences, when he suddenly changed the subject to you and how you looked in the dress - you knew immediately where he was going to go with this. You knew you were right when he talked about wanting to get out of here eventually and he tried to move his hand lower on your waist. 

“No, sir. I don’t think so,” you said, attempting to pull away, but he pulled you tighter. “You’re not getting what you want, even if you try pulling me tighter.”

”Oh, I would hate for something big to mess up that star reputation of yours, wouldn’t you?” he spoke, you had seen this move too many times. A very unfortunate abuse of powers, you were stuck.

“I know how good my reputation is, you can’t tarnish that, you prick.”

”Oh, but one word to Gloria and I can easily get you taken out of a program. I’d be cautious.”

“Yeah,” a familiar voice spoke from behind you, “I would be cautious, too. Get your hands off of her.” 

You didn’t know, but Robby and Dana had also moved in closer. You felt yourself let out a breath of relief. You stepped back and were on your way back to the bar when he had the audacity to say something else, “damn, I didn’t realize you got this far by fucking your ‘mentor’.”

The wire snapped. Anything that was holding Jack Abbot back from letting the man in front of him have it disappeared and before he knew it, the man was on the ground from a mean right hook. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

You stood there in awe. So much had happened in a short timespan, you didn’t even have the chance to recollect your thoughts. Robby had simply pulled Jack back just enough for him to process what was happening, “Jack, not here.”

Jack simply looked back and grabbed you, both of you immediately leaving. ack didn’t know what to say, the only thing keeping him in line right now was the click of your heels behind him. 

“Jack, wait up.” It wasn’t until you two had stepped outside that you had said it, but the only thing that let him know that was the cooler air hitting his face. 

“I’m not apologizing for defending you, sweetheart. I don’t care, he had no right to say what he did to you. I should have done way worse,” he kept going. Ranting on and on about the man that had disrespected you.

”Jack.”

“And him using, well attempting to, use the money thing against you made it even more of a dick move.” He kept ranting. 

“Jack, look at me,” you said, stepping closer to him. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” and before he knew it, your lips were on his. 

☆

Robby was going to hurt Jack. Not that he did anything specific, but after the events at the gala, he went MIA. He didn’t completely disappear, but he made an adamant point to avoid you and anyone he could at work. He was simply in a clock in, clock out mode. 

You tried your best not to care, you really did - it just took a lot to go from bits of nothing to the events of the gala back to square one. You missed seeing his black thermal next to your pink one or his little notes. Or him, for that matter. 

It was a total switch up from the emotional roller coaster that you had been on for the past eight months. How could he just go from this to normal? How could he just go from this to nothing with you?

It seemed too easy for him. Maybe it had been. 

Dana had made the suggestion that maybe you switch to days for a little bit, that way you weren’t constantly pressed on the issue that was Jack Abbot. She was also on the verge of attacking the man verbally - maybe physically - for what he was doing to you. 

Robby knew. Robby knew exactly what had happened, but he also knew his closest friend well enough that he couldn’t press on the issue in fear of making it worse. Jack was scared. You had eased him out from behind certain walls, but the certainty of a kiss made him want to build them back up. 

Jack knew, too. He knew that he was hurting you, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had his walls built up for a reason: to protect himself and you - but unfortunately, he was just harming you in the process. You switching from night shift for a few days per week is what made him immediately regret the decisions he had made after the gala. 

He showed up an extra 40 minutes early when you worked the day shift, just so that he could see you for longer than what he had been. He found peace in the night and darkness, but you were the one that was bringing him light for the time being. 

“I expected to find you up here,” he heard Robby say, eventually sensing him right behind him. 

“I know. I knew someone would know I was up here.”

”She knows too, she’s who sent me up here to make sure you didn’t jump,” Robby said, making Jack turn to face him. “You should talk to her. She’s holding it together, but she’s not doing good, man. I’m not going to say it’s your fault-“

”But you want to though.”

”Yeah. You might be her mentor, but at least she didn’t pick up on your small lack of emotional intelligence.” 

“I fear it’s too late for her to forgive me. I don’t want it to be, I-“

”You love her?”

”Yeah, I do.”

”So, you have to fix this, Jack,” and before he could respond, Robby left him on his own.  

☆

It started off gradually. You went back to working just night shifts, tired of letting him get to you. You were cordial, you did your job, and at the end of the day you immediately went home. 

The way that you and Jack worked together didn’t change, he still rightfully encouraged you to be the best doctor that you could be - he would blame himself if this directly hindered your career. 

“Sweet cheeks, why so glum?” you heard Myrna’s voice ring out from behind you. 

“I’m okay, Myrna. Also, sweet cheeks?” you questioned, sending a confused look her way. 

“You’re sweet and-“

”You know, I’m okay without you elaborating.”

”Suit yourself. You seem upset, who hurt ya? I can hurt them like I hurt my husband,” she said, making you glad she was still in cuffs. 

You smiled at the older woman, “I appreciate you, Myrna, but I promise I’m okay.” You removed yourself as far from her as you could, but when you heard the doors open, you made direct eye contact with him. You didn’t miss the two thermal cups in his hand. 

It was a silent exchange, he didn’t say anything else; opting to simply set down the mug and send a nod your way before he went to talk to Robby for handoffs.

“Have you two talked any since the gala?” Dana asked, pulling you away from your thoughts. Simply shaking your head, she let out a sigh. “I don’t like to see either of you hurting like this, especially you. He’s just too stubborn for his own good.”

“I know,” you said, sadly. “I just don’t feel like it’s my place to try and fix things as he’s the one that MIA, I just miss us - not that it was anything for sure, but it still felt like enough.”

“He’ll get it eventually,” Dana said, putting her jacked on and grabbing her bag, “I just hope sooner than later. Alright, hun, I’m heading out. Holler if you need anything.”

With that, it was you and the rest of night shift - and Robby, who couldn’t leave on time to save his own life. You fell into rhythm with Chen and Ellis as they walked during handoffs.

”Haven’t seen you with your bodyguard recently,” Chen said, his tone even. 

“My bodyguard?”

Ellis made a face and Chen could only laugh at you, “Abbot.”

“He’s not my bodyguard,” you grumbled, choosing to ignore the two of them. 

“That’s not what I heard, especially with him punching some guy out for you at that gala. A non-bodyguard wouldn’t do that,” Ellis said, a pointed look on her face. 

“Whatever.”

☆

Dana had decided to have a small, sweet get together for her birthday; she was able to leave her daughters with a babysitter and just wanted to spend some time with the people she cared about most. This led to you being sat near Heather, Robby, Frank, Cassie, Samira, and Jack, at a table in one of Dana’s favorite bars. 

You elected to ignore the ongoing sense of Jack’s eyes on you as you talked to Samira and Cassie. Cassie was ranting about her ex making a stop in the hospital for something as stupid as the skateboarding accident, but her voice kept fading into the background as you looked to see Jack’s eyes already on you. 

“Can you guys just make up already? The tension is actually insane,” Samira whisper-shouted to you. 

“Please, we’re begging,” Cassie added, “it even makes my heart beat witnessing all of this. It’s tiring. Just kiss, make up, maybe do more, we sure as hell won’t stop you.”

You laughed, “don’t you guys have jobs? My life and relationships should not be the primary focus of your day. Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I need a drink - will one of you guys come with?” 

Samira was already getting up when Cassie spoke up, “I’ll come with you, but I won’t get anything.” She told the table where you guys were going before she caught up to you. “Wait, y/n/n, isn’t that, uh, what was his name? That fling you had last summer?”

”Who? Lucas?” you asked, looking up to see him on the other side of the bar, you sent a small smile his way that he immediately reciprocated. He moved away from some of the friends that you recognized and headed your way. ”Hey, Lucas. How are you?”

”I’m good,” he nodded towards the two other girls around you as you introduced them. “You ladies getting anything to drink? They can be on me. y/n, you want your usual? Or are you drinking drinking tonight?”

You didn’t miss the smirk that was on his face, “I’ll have my usual, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a round of shots for us, too. Don’t think you’re going to get lucky though just for buying us drinks, Lucas.”

”Can I not just buy a pretty girl drinks without any ulterior motives?” he spoke, smoothly before turning to the bartender. “Four shots, a strawberry mojito, and - would you ladies want anything else?”

”I’ll have a tequila sunrise,” Samira mentioned. 

“I’m not drinking, but thank you,” Cassie added. Lucas nodded before getting the order finished. 

“I’m going to go back to the table, are you cool here with Samira?” Cassie asked, looking to you for a response. 

“I’m good, thank you though. You think I should drink the extra shot?”

”As long as you can handle it, y/n/n,” she said with a laugh. Turning back to the table, she let out a cackle at the sight in front of her: Dana and Robby watching Abbot, trying to hide the smiles on their faces as Jack looked like he was about to lose his shit - if he hadn’t already lost it. 

Once Samira got her drink and took the shot with you guys, she turned back to the table to already see most eyes on you and Lucas. “Oh, I’m not saying I can see steam rising from Jack’s head, but the man could very easily have steam coming from his ears.”

”He can’t get mad if he’s not going to say anything about how he feels,” you spoke honestly. Lucas turned and immediately recognized the doctor that had been looming the last time he had to go to the ER. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a look like that from a man that wasn’t in love,” Lucas said, taking a sip of his beer. 

“What?” 

He shrugged, “He wouldn’t look at me like he wants to kill me, if he wasn’t in love with you.”

“Random man does make a fair point,” Samira said, “can I please have your permission to stir the pot some? Just to see what the old man does?”

Lucas laughed at that, “just don’t get me murdered if you do, I have a lot to live for.”

”I don’t know what you have planned, but do what you have to do at this point,” you said, mentally preparing for what could happen. 

When Samira sat down, she immediately turned and told Cassie what was going on - she didn’t exactly have a master plan, but she did know it wouldn’t be difficult to get him to his breaking point. 

“Why’d you leave her up there, Samira?” he said, blinking slowly before taking a sip of his water. 

“She seemed okay up there, plus I’m not one to interfere on romantic matters,” Samira said, earning a laugh from Cassie and Dana. Robby could tell based off of Samira’s face that nothing was actually going on, she was just saying stuff at this point. Jack simply rolled his eyes before going back to his y/n watching. 

“I remember them being a thing,” Heather added to the mix, “they were cute, it didn’t work out just because of schedules though. Honestly, if his job changed any, I don’t think they should avoid trying again.”

Jack’s face remained still, but everyone at the table was on the same page: push his buttons just enough for him to do something. His attention was brought back to the bar at the sound of your laugh, which was usually one of his favorite sounds, but not when it was because of another man. ”He can’t be that funny.”

Everyone at the table could barely contain their laughter anymore, continuing to say things in hopes that it would finally make him get up and talk to you - but for whatever reason, nothing was working. Maybe it was just simple self control?

Jack kept his eye on the table, the noise of the bar drowning out as he waited for you to return to the table. He didn’t see you come back, but the smell of your perfume had has head snapping up, “you have fun, sweetheart?”

You smirked, the nickname usually kept between the two of you. “Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.” You continued talking to everyone at the table, but didn’t miss the feeling of eyes dancing between you and him. 

“Jesus Christ,” Robby muttered, shaking his head and you thought you could see Dana’s eye twitch. 

“Bitch,” Samira said, eyes wide, “I swear to god, if you do not leave tonight with him, I will hurt both of you.”

”Same,” the collective said.  

More time passed, but nothing happened. Jack didn’t really say anything else to you and you assumed that he had given up on whatever there was with the two of you. Before you knew it, another hour had passed and the table that was full before was down to just you, Robby, and Jack - everyone else going home together so they made it back safely. 

Robby looked at both of you before he started, “You guys need to figure your shit out. If you need me here to talk it out, cool - note, I won’t stay past anything other than conversation though.”Jack didn’t say anything. You didn’t know if that made you feel better or worse. “Okay, so this is the part where the conversation happens, if you were unaware.”

He stayed silent again, this time you weren’t having it though. “I appreciate the attempt, Robby, but I think everyone has tried hard enough.” You tried your best to keep your voice even, turning to grab your purse and move your chair, you were ready to make the walk home or get an uber home. 

“y/n, wait,” Jack’s voice finally said, “I- Can I drive you home?”

You looked from Robby to Jack, “I was just going to get an uber. It’s all good though.”

”y/n. Please,” at that your eyes turned to him. He was pleading with you, saying a million things at once. A million things that he had intended to say, but you saw it - you knew him well enough to see it. 

“Okay.” 

“Well, kiddos, if that’s all settled, I’m headed out. Let me know when you guys make it back safe though. I’ll see you guys at shift change,” and with that it was just you and Jack. 

”Are you ready to head out or?” you asked, breaking the silence that had taken a moment to settle between the two of you. 

“I’m okay staying for a second,” another beat of silence, “you look beautiful tonight, by the way. I just didn’t want to add fuel to the fire that our friends were waiting on, only reason I didn’t say anything sooner.”

”Yeah, there’s a lot of things you could have said sooner.” Was the comment a bit mean? Maybe. Warranted? Yes.

He sighed, “I know. Trust me, I know.”

”Okay, so if you knew, why? Why did you drag this on, push me away, all of that? I would much rather you just said that you didn’t want something with me than drag me along.”

”Sweetheart,” he said, reaching his hand across the table to yours, “trust me, I want you. So bad that I fear it could kill me. I just- I pushed you away because I was scared and for that I’m so sorry. In no way did I want you to feel unwanted.”

”Scared? Of what?” you weren’t even mad at him anymore, you just wanted answers. 

“Scared that, if I admit how I feel about you that I would lose you.”

You stayed silent a moment, tilting your head in confusion, “you thought you would lose me? So you pushed me away?”

”It sounds stupid like that, but I’ve lost so much in my life already. You mean so much to me and I didn’t want to risk losing that. I love you, y/n, and me admitting that made it real. And when it’s real, I have something to lose,” his eyes met yours again, “I can’t lose you.” 

You didn’t know how to respond. He had just admitted that he was in love with you and all you could do was look at him for a moment - his hand on yours was the only thing grounding you. ”I love you, too, Jack. I just didn’t deserve you pushing me away. You mean too much to me for that.”

”I know, and I’m so sorry that I put you through that,” a small smile appeared on his face, “I’lll make it up to you, I promise. Let me get you home.” 

You didn’t know if you should, but all disagreements flew out the window when you saw the way he was looking at you. “Okay.”

☆

As the sun eased into the room the day after, you felt yourself pulled back towards the body behind you. You felt at ease, at peace. A night of repeated ‘I love you’s and ‘I’m sorry’s to make up for lost time. A morning routine that the two of you developed in a few hours, him making breakfast for the two of you and you being the comforting presence he needed in that moment. 

The two of you made up for lost time before you had to prepare for work. Stopping at your apartment so that you could grab your scrubs and work bag, he looked at the pictures you had around of friends, family, and the memories that you had made - his mind immediately going to the new ones the two of you could make. 

Opening your cabinet to grab one of your thermal mugs, he saw the multiple pink thermals that stayed there, “I didn’t realize you had a problem.”

“I have at least one for every day of the week and then some for if I don’t feel like washing them, it’s a system that works” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. He let out a light chuckle at your ‘system’, but he couldn’t ignore the way that seeing two of his black thermal mugs in there made him happy. 

“I see I’ve made guest appearances here that I didn’t even know about,” he said, placing his hands on your waist from behind. “Are we stopping for tea before work?”

”Of course, pretty boy. Your favorite resident can’t be dragging,” you said, heading out. 

The two of you made your way through the cafe and into the Emergency Department, not missing the way that Dana’s face lit up at the two of you entering together. 

“I see the two of you finally made up,” Dana said, a smirk on her face, “and based on the way your skin is glowing, maybe more than just a make up.”

“Thank God, you guys needed to do something,” Robby said, nearing the nurses station. “I was genuinely so close to actually losing it, you have no idea.” 

------

taglist: @dayswithoutcoffee @dragonsondragons @literazine

hope you guys enjoyed!! feedback is always welcome

xoxo

ash

[azzibueckers5]

i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song) (ao3 link)

azzi realizes (with some gentle prodding) midway through her rookie wnba season that maybe she and paige were more than best friends and she just didn't know it. except they haven't really talked in more than a year. cue a mini crashout and some major life re-evaluation. and a lot of wine. (wc: ~5k)

AN: um hi hello! this is my first ever published fic so please be kind 🙏🏻i'll try and shorten the manifesto authors note i have in ao3, but basically this is just meant to be a silly little story! i don't think this is canon in any way i just really like angsty gays being stupid, so. this would theoretically be during azzi’s rookie season (so summer 2026) and operates under a reality in which p+a are very much not together and were never messing around, so make some mental edits to the pazzi timeline if you so please. i hope you enjoy this little labor of love ❤︎

chapter 1: in which azzi discovers the dangers of combining wine, well-meaning but invasive questions from friends, and the call feature on her iphone

it starts, as many things do, with dinner and one too many glasses of wine for azzi. she and a few teammates had decided to have a girls' night- a real girls' night, as aaliyah had called it, meaning dinner at a nice, secluded cocktail bar downtown during their few days off. they were grown ups now, or at least pretending to be, and what better way to celebrate getting through half of the season than by getting wine drunk and munching on slightly overpriced hors d'oeuvres. 

they’re mostly through their food at this point, which is to say, pleasantly tipsy, maybe even teetering on the edge of drunk, and azzi leans back into the booth with a contented sigh, lazily sipping on the remaining wine in her glass. 

kiki and georgia are discussing kiki’s new boyfriend, and azzi is only half paying attention, finding the buzz in her system making it difficult to really enjoy hearing the phrase “ i’m just so in love with him ” for the third time in the last five minutes. 

georgia is amused though, and azzi lets her handle it, up until georgia turns to her and asks, “what about you, fudd? got anything going on over there? any new suitors?” 

azzi rolls her eyes, sighing. “no ma’am. answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked it.”

it should bother her, really, how little action she gets, how uninterested in casual dating she’s been. but she’s content, for the most part, with her friends and her family and the occasional one night stand. sometimes it feels like her friends are more invested in her dating life than she is.

“come onnnn, when’s the last time you dated someone,” kiki pipes up, and azzi thinks here we go again.  

“bro i don’t know. the whole dating and boys thing isn’t for me, okay,” she whines, and even though that’s the truth, dating has never been something azzi cared about, the words feel a little sour on her tongue. 

she glances at aaliyah, who’s looking at her curiously. 

“what?” she asks, at her imploring gaze. the wine is making her bolder, more inclined to be blunt about her disinterest in boys, and she thought aaliyah kind of understood that about her, anyways.

aaliyah opens her mouth, as if to say something, and then closes it, and azzi feels herself flush a little bit, though she doesn’t really know why. aaliyah is looking at her like she can’t quite figure something out, and it unnerves her. 

azzi squirms, and repeats “no really, what? now you have to tell me.” its followed by a chorus of agreement from the other two girls, and aaliyah sighs. 

“how many times have you been in love? we got kiki over here yappin’ about her second guy of the year and yet i’ve never heard you interested in a guy for more than a week.” she says it like she’s trying to clue azzi in on something, yet all she can focus on is the first part of the question. and she’s embarrassed . 

she flushes, and tries to ignore the anxiety that her biggest insecurity raises to the surface, steeling herself for her answer. her limited dating experience has never been embarrassing, because she’d always been a busy athlete and could brush it off as something she never had time for. but being 23 and never having been in love was secretly something that kept her up at night. 

the wine makes her bold, though, so she lifts her head and mumbles out a quick “i’ve never- i’ve never been in love.” 

the table is silent for a brief second, her words sinking in, but instead of shock or judgement gazing back at her, azzi is met with confusion and almost amusement . 

kiki is the first one to speak up. “well we know that's not true.” her tone is playful, as if azzi is kidding.

azzi stares at her blankly. “what d’you mean?” she laughs a little at their disbelieving looks, and then adds, “don’t rub it in. it's not exactly something i’m proud of.”

still, she’s met with unnerving eyes. finally, aaliyah blurts out “i mean. we know you and paige…” she trails off without finishing, but the damage is done.

“what the fuck are you guys on about?” she immediately says in response, half laughing, trying to lessen the tension. she ignores the way the unexpected mention of paige cuts at her heart. they haven’t spoken in, god, probably two or three months at this point, and the reminder twists something ugly in her chest as she waits for what promises to be a weird joke that falls flat. 

all three faces peering back at her seem entirely humorless though, and azzi starts to get the idea that she’s missing some sort of crucial piece of information. “i wasn’t in love with paige,” she gets out, ignoring the way her voice catches on the name.

aaliyah’s face softens. “we don’t have to talk about it of you don’t want to but… you don’t have to hide that from us, azzi.” 

she splutters in response. “you guys don’t actually think that-” but the look on their faces belays that, in fact, all three of them somehow think that azzi was in love with paige.

 “guys. come on. that was just some weird internet theory. paige and i were just best friends.” she’s defensive now, because what the fuck is going on. 

her pulse is buzzing under her skin, no longer from just the wine, and she suddenly feels like the restaurant around them is really quiet, and everyone is listening in on this conversation. the ac must not be working properly either, because she’s sweating, legs sticking to the leather of the seat below her. 

georgia, graciously, breaks the silence, but the relief is short lived when azzi hears the nonsense that comes out of her mouth. 

“azzi, come on, i wasn’t even with you guys at uconn and i know you were more than friends. you don’t gotta pretend in front of us.”

and then kiki is chiming in with “i mean everybody kinda knew it…” and azzi feels like god is playing some kind of twisted prank on her. 

she turns back to aaliyah, hoping she can defend azzi, except her face looks a little horrified. like she’s realizing that in fact azzi wasn’t aware that everyone thought they were more than friends. she looks for support anyways, knowing that aaliyah had seen them at uconn, had understood that they were just intensely codependent and not dating, for the love of god. 

“c’mon, tell them we were just friends,” she pleads to the older girl, expecting back up on at least this. 

“azzi…” she trails off, and azzi can only gape at all of them. “i mean, you guys were attached at the hip. you had sleepovers like 4 times a week…” she trails off, and azzi realizes three things in quick succession. 

one, aaliyah thought her and paige had been actually, truly dating, or hooking up, or something. two, this means that probably multiple other people on the team also thought they were something. and three, if kiki and georgia also thought that… somehow azzi had missed the memo that not only did random fans on the internet think they’d been in love, but that everyone had. she feels like she’s going to throw up. 

“you guys are wrong. we were just best friends,” she says, with as much conviction as she can muster, and it is the truth, even though her audience is making it feel like a lie. they had been just best friends, truly, except . 

except the one night azzi can’t remember , after the championship, when she’d woken up in paige’s hotel room with a blinding hangover and spotty memory. that in itself hadn’t been weird, but the mark on her collarbone had been new, and the way paige wouldn’t meet her eyes had been different, and, and. azzi shuts down the thoughts of that horrible morning and ensuing weeks.

she blinks back into the restaurant to look at her teammates, and she sees the dawning realization on their faces that she’s telling the truth, or most of it anyway, and they all look, well, a little shell-shocked.  

she asks for clarification, even though she knows the answer already, “i mean did everyone- did everyone think we were-” she can’t even finish the sentence, and doesn’t need to. She gets three nods immediately, and the playful mood that had existed at their table only minutes before has evaporated into the low lights above them. 

and they’re all wrong, they all have to be wrong, because azzi isn’t even really into girls, and hadn’t been in love with paige, because she would have known. surely she would have known, or at least someone would have mentioned it to her. this feels like a bad dream that she can’t wake up from, because now she can’t stop thinking about paige, and how much she misses her laugh, and the curl of their fingers together, and how they haven’t gone this long without speaking since, well, ever. 

she forcefully shuts down thoughts of the blonde, because she’d been so good at blocking out how much she missed her, and this conversation is just messing with her wine-addled mind. she had not been in love with paige. she just hadn’t been, couldn’t have been. 

“you guys are wrong,” she says, extremely convincingly. because it's true, obviously. and the looks she receives in response are disbelieving, but they seem to understand that this isn’t something azzi wants to get into right now. 

“okay. if you say so,” kiki replies gently, words laced with pity, and azzi hates everything.

she nods, trying to ignore the fact that she kind of feels like crying, and manages to get out an “i do” without her voice cracking. 

aaliyah gives her a long, searching look, before deciding to drop it. mercifully, she begins asking georgia about the date she went on a couple nights before, and the attention shifts. 

for the short rest of the dinner though, azzi is lost in a subtle, wine-induced panic. the girls leave her alone to her thoughts for the most part, seemingly understanding that she doesn’t have much to add, and she sighs in relief when the bill gets paid and the ubers begin to be called. 

outside, the muggy dc air hits her face and does nothing to cool the heat that's been simmering in her veins. as they disperse in front of the restaurant to go their separate ways, aaliyah hesitates for a second before climbing in the car that's awaiting her. “if you ever want to talk about it… you know i’m here right?”

azzi doesn’t have to ask what she means. she nods, and pastes on the most convincing smile she can muster. “i’m fine, really, lili. there's nothing to talk about.”

at her disbelieving look, azzi rolls her eyes. “really. i mean it.” she pauses, and then allows a meek “but i’ll let you know if i change my mind.” 

aaliyah hums, and reaches out to squeeze her hand, before finally climbing into her car. “if you say so, fudd. g’night. love you. i'll see you at practice.”

“'night. love you too,” she responds, and shuts the door gently, before looking up and searching for her own uber. 

the drive home is spent staring out the window trying not to cry. and it doesn’t make sense, she wasn’t in love with paige, but for some reason, out of all the times she’d ever been accused of dating paige, this one has rattled her the most. 

she’d always thought that the rumors had been kind of funny, in a ridiculous, distant way, and though they’d stopped joking about them as they’d gotten more intense in the later parts of their friendship, azzi had always thought that paige kind of thought they were amusing too. 

except, now that she really thinks about it, she’d stopped joking about the speculation because it used to make paige fidgety. and azzi had always thought it had just been because the rumors were so rampant, that it was awkward because they were so wrong, but now this stupid dinner and the stupid wine is making her not so sure. 

but no. she knows she wasn’t in love with paige. because. because she would have known. 

her mind feels like it's going at a million miles a minute, flashes of paige’s smile and the way her head would always come to rest on azzi’s shoulder, and how safe she’d always felt next to paige, and-

her impending anxiety attack is put on pause when the car gets to her building, and as she thanks the driver and heads up into the elevators, she tries to reassure herself that it's just the wine, and the surprise information that it hadn’t just been strangers thinking they were together, but friends, close friends , too. 

and it's already late, but when she is finally engulfed by the silence of her apartment, azzi does the only thing that she thinks will bring her any sense of clarity and drags her phone out of her purse.  

katie picks up on the second ring (she ignores the part of her that’s first instinct is still to call paige when anything is wrong because god fucking damn it ), and azzi feels moderately better at her mom’s familiar “hello” on the other side of the line.

“hi,” is the only thing she can come up with in response, and she mentally curses her vocal cords for breaking on the singular word. so much for not revealing to her mother that she’s upset. 

“azzi honey, are you okay?” comes the response, gentle with concern. and she is, she is okay except she kind of feels like the rug has been ripped out from under her, and she just needs her mom to tell her that everyone else is crazy. 

“i’m fine, i’m okay,” she releases, but that feels like a lie so she continues. “can i- can i ask you a question? and you can’t. you can’t laugh or think it's stupid or whatever.”

katie hums in confusion on the other side of the line, and azzi just needs to say it before she loses the confidence of the wine sliding through her system.

“did you ever- did you ever think i was in love with paige?”

from the strangled sound on the other side of the phone, it's clearly not what she expected azzi to ask. 

“azzi. sweetheart. did you- were you not?” and that. that gets her to finally shed the tears that have been brewing since dinner. 

her panicked “no!” sounds a lot less convincing than she intends it to be, and she doesn’t- she doesn’t understand what the fuck going on. 

katie’s voice is gentle when she continues, understanding the fragility of the moment (and azzi’s sanity ) and she states quietly, “i mean. i always thought the two of you were a little bit in love with each other. less so when you were younger, but. azzi . i mean, you guys lived out of eachothers pockets for years. i always kind of thought you guys were more than friends.” her words are soft, like she knows azzi can’t handle anything else, but they still pierce her heart like knives against a target.

and what the fuck ever. 

she’s really crying now, though she’s trying to keep it quiet and preserve the barest amount of pride she has left. it's just. everything everyone is saying isn’t making any sense because it's impossible to be in love with someone without knowing it. 

and yet, here azzi is, on the phone with her mother and maybe possibly coming to the realization that maybe she and paige weren’t exactly the most platonic of friends and it's at least a year too late. and then that last thought hits her square in the chest: the fact that she and paige haven’t been alone in the same room together in over a year, haven’t called in maybe longer, that it very well might be too late, and then her tears aren’t so silent anymore. 

she lets out a sob over the phone and her mom’s voice sounds worried when she says “oh, azzi. we thought you guys broke up last year. you never wanted to talk about what happened and we just assumed you were dating in secret and something happened. you’re telling me you weren’t- you never…”

she cuts her mom off with another “no!” and this really might be the worst thing that’s ever happened, because her mom thought they were dating. and then, because she needs to know for sure she asks again, voice thick with tears “so you think. you think that i was in love with paige?” 

there’s silence on the other side of the phone for a second, as katie processes how to respond. and then her mom must hate her or something because all she says in response is “honey, only you can answer that question. but i think that if you’re asking me, then you already know.” 

and, well, she’s right. and isn’t that just fucking awesome.

after hanging up on her mother and swearing up and down that she’ll call tomorrow when she’s more calm and coherent and not losing her fucking mind , azzi takes a long, still slightly tipsy shower. 

she thinks of paige six different times in the span of twenty minutes and contemplates slamming her head against the tile walls. 

it’s as if aaliyah had uncovered this part of azzi’s brain that had been locked away, unbeknownst to her, and now that it was released it was determined to wreak as much havoc as possible. 

she knows she won’t be able to sleep right away, the buzz of adrenaline, alcohol, and unexplored feelings too potent to let her rest, so she does probably the dumbest thing she can think of and grabs a bottle of wine and the blanket that paige bought her when she was 17 and plants herself on the couch. she figures she deserves the pinot something-or-other that someone had gifted her when she’d had her little housewarming party in the spring. 

and then she’s reminded of said party, and the last minute invite she’d sent to paige as a peace offering, as a plea for normalcy. the older girl had been in the area, azzi knows because drew had mentioned it to her brothers, and she hadn’t exactly expected paige to show up and be normal, relaxed and funny paige, azzi’s paige, but she also hadn’t expected the text saying she couldn’t come with a half hearted excuse. 

that had been the nail in the coffin for azzi, the sign that she should stop trying. because as much as the unanswered texts and awkward interactions after uconn visits and stilted hugs after team trips to watch the wings had hurt, the realisation that paige had decided not to be there for azzi on a night that was supposed to be a celebration of her accomplishments had made her understand how wide the gap between them had really grown. paige had never chosen not to be there for azzi. 

and now she’s beginning to understand that it had been heartbreak, in its truest form, that had settled into her bones that day, not merely disappointment. she’d cried in the bathroom at her own party, briefly, when she’d realized that paige wasn’t coming, and. 

and so many things about their relationship are starting to make sense. 

the way they’d told each other everything except anything to do with love interests or hookups because it was an unspoken rule between them that the other didn’t want to know. the way azzi had been completely comfortable with nudity in front of teammates except around paige, always turning around when the blonde was changing and vice versa. the way they didn’t gone more than a couple hours without communicating unless one of them was asleep for like. eight years. the way paige had slotted so seamlessly into her life that she’d felt like family, except the word sister had never seemed like an appropriate word for what they were to each other.

and then. and then azzi is suddenly angry. angry at herself for not figuring this out sooner. angry at her friends for never informing her that she was in love with her best friend. and most importantly, she was fucking furious at paige. because the more she thinks back at their relationship, and the good and the bad, the more she realizes that paige had to have known. she’s struck with the thought that paige had probably been in love with her too, but instead of comfort, all azzi can feel is the grief of losing her before they were ever even something more, and the fury at paige for letting them fall apart . 

because it had been paige that had stopped responding to text messages. paige who had subtly put a stop to any and all physical contact that azzi had tried to instigate. and it had been paige who had started and ended their dizzying, agonizing conversation about the championship night. 

azzi knows she’d fucked up by refusing to aknowledge the fact that they had definitely kissed, definitely more than kissed that night. except it had been hazy. she couldn’t remember the details of how they’d gotten from the after party in the hotel to paige's room. she couldn’t remember what they’d said or done or even what the time frame of that night had looked like. she only remembered blurry snapshots of paige’s mouth against hers, and the feeling of her hands tangling in the blonde’s hair, and the proof, stark against her chest, that paige's mouth had moved lower and meant it.

and then azzi hadn’t acknowledged it the next morning, because what on earth do you say when you’re pretty sure you made out with your best friend of eight years but you can’t actually remember. and paige had been in a horrible mood, and they’d fought, like they never did, about something entirely unrelated, and azzi had been blindsided, like she was missing something throughout the entire argument. 

and now. azzi is starting to understand that it hadn’t been that paige didn’t care when she’d put distance between them, flitting off to the league and leaving calls and texts unanswered, but that she’d cared too much. 

still, this doesn’t make azzi feel better, and she’s pissed. because how very dare paige fuck off without telling azzi that they’d been in love, and leave her to think that paige hadn’t needed her. 

she must be drunker than she thought she was, because suddenly her anger boils over and she’s doing probably the stupidest thing she possibly could, which is picking up her phone and dialing the number still pinned at the top of her contacts list. 

its late now, like beyond a reasonable time to be calling anyone, let alone your ex best friend who you don’t speak to anymore, but somewhere in azzi’s hazy mind she knows that paige is an hour behind and that she always picks up the phone for azzi. 

it rings four times, and each one causes her heartbeat to pick up even faster, and azzi doesn’t know what would be worse, paige answering or paige not. (she does know. it's not the former)

and then the line clicks midway through the fifth ring and paige says “azzi?” and azzi hears her voice for the first time in months, since they played each other in may and could barely look at eachother, and all the fight and anger that was simmering in her blood seems to disappear at how broken her name sounds coming from paige’s lips. 

she can only muster up a strangled “hi” into the phone, really eloquent, azzi, great job , and she realizes when she says it that she’s crying again because she sounds like she’s crying , and isn’t that just perfect. 

immediately, azzi can sense the shift in paige’s energy over the phone as her voice rings out in a worried “azzi? are you okay?” and azzi has forgotten entirely why she called in the first place or what to say.

“no, yeah, m’fine,” she answers, but she know she doesn’t sound convincing, and wow, okay, this pinot something-or-other must be like, at least 15% because azzi then blurts out a pitiful “m’just drunk and i miss you.”

paige exhales sharply into the phone, the ensuing silence deafening, and azzi feels humiliation curl in her gut, regretting everything between the day she was born and now that has led her to this moment. 

but then paige says, weakly, her voice slightly muffled over the distance, “i miss you too, az. so much.” 

she expects to feel relief at the words, the knowledge that paige misses her too, probably just as much, but it’s only a reminder to azzi of how badly they’ve fucked everything up. 

and then she suddenly remembers that they have an away game in dallas, in only a week or so, and she really needs to get a grip but instead she hears herself speaking again, before she can process the words. “when i’m in dallas next week, can we maybe-”

she’s cut off by a woman’s voice in the background, on the other end of the phone, asking, “paige? are you still staying over?” 

azzi feels like she’s been thrown off the side of a mountain. 

or rather she wishes she was thrown off the side of a mountain because that probably feels better than the absolute devastation currently coursing out from her heart and into her bloodstream and clogging her lungs. 

she makes a choked off sound in the back of her throat, just as paige stammers out an uneven “can you give me a second?” her voice sounds distant, because it's not meant for azzi, and for the second time in the span of a minute, azzi regrets being born at all. 

she hears movement through the phoneline, imagining paige moving through this unknown woman’s house, and fuck, why hadn’t she considered this? that paige had moved on? here azzi was, finally figuring out her shit, and calling paige in the middle of the night like some desperate ex-something and paige might have had a whole girlfriend. 

azzi feels bile rise in her throat. 

somehow, she musters up the courage to croak out “no paige, it's okay. you go. i’m sorry for calling so la-”

“no, no, azzi, it’s fine, it's never too late for you,” and. well. that might just be the fucking joke of the century.  

“no, really paige, it's okay. i need to sleep too.”

there’s resigned silence between them for a second, and azzi thinks paige is going to simply hang up, and then the older girl whispers “were you gonna ask to hang out? in- in dallas?”

azzi’s “yes” is embarrassingly quick to tumble from her lips. 

paige lets out a quiet laugh, and it's brief and small, and really probably more of an amused exhale through her nose than anything else, but she laughs, and azzi feels the twisted fluttering of hope bloom in her chest, despite herself.

“okay. text me tomorrow, then. if you really want to do something.” there's a challenge in paige’s words, like she doesn’t think azzi will, and that stings, a little, but she tries not to let it. 

“i will. i promise.” a pause, and then when the other girl says nothing, “g’night paige,” she whispers, and she means that promise. she knows she’s drunk, and she guesses there might have been a similar exchange all those horrible months ago, hence paige’s quiet mistrust, but she knows in her bones that she’ll remember this tomorrow, that she’ll want to see paige.

“goodnight, azzi. sweet dreams.” and then, the dial tone. 

in the silence of the room, masochistically, azzi realizes that that’s the first time they’ve hung up the phone without saying i love you since they were fifteen. the irony is not lost on her. 

she falls asleep that night curled up into a ball, cheeks wet and the blanket paige got her still tucked around her feet.

AN: ummm thank you for reading! and please tell me how you liked if you so please! i am a people pleaser to my core so it might make me write faster. there should only be one more part and i'm about halfway done writing it! i hope this inspires you freaks to post stuff on ao3 bc it is NEEDED. xoxoxoxo

[riorgail]

since this is getting so much attention, i want to make my point clear.

my point is—why are we making grown fucking women so childlike and weak? why are we not giving them a personality or a backbone?

and also, what’s happening to diversity? why is there a lack of diversity and representation on these fanfics? or even inspo/aesthetics pics

anyways, i wrote some stuff down from what people replied to make my point as clear as day, so here goes nothing

(you might notice how i mostly talk about an mmc x fem!reader and that’s because those are most of the tags i read. but i’ve been told that it also happens in wlw fics)

a lot of people told me about tagging. they told me that i didn’t have to choose those tags or that i could just ignore the fics people post with the tags i don’t like. you see, the problem is that a lot of the authors who write the stuff im talking about in my post don’t usually use the correct tags. when i say that i have tried to ignore the fics with things that i didn’t like but it got so repetitive that i had to speak about it, trust me. im anything but interested in the “bimbo!reader” or “trophywife!reader” tags i talked about in my original post.

someone mentioned in my comments that tumblr is supposed to be a “safe space” and that they don’t like negativity, but it’s hard to stay positive when “x reader” fanfics are starting to become anything but “x reader.” and also, let’s be real, fandoms/tumblr are never going to be a 100% safe space.

this same person said, and i quote, “I hope everyone is doing okay and learns that things that aren't actually hurting people can coexist with the fact that some people just don't like it.” sorry to break it to you, but this problem does hurt people. for example, women of color, including me. i wrote this post because i started to feel like i wasn’t being represented in fics that SHOULD make me feel represented. and im sure that a lot of women of color or women that don’t want to be seen as dumb or stupid can agree.

can someone please tell me when we started normalizing objectification? a user replied on my original post complaining about the “bimbo!reader” tag and they basically said that the reader gets reduced to this pink and stupid girl that just gets fucked and that’s the whole point of the fic. honestly, i couldn’t agree more. why are we making the reader dumb and stupid? why is the whole point of most fanfics with that bimbo!reader tag to get fucked by whatever character you’re reading about? it pisses me off that most “mmc x reader” fanfics make the reader (that is a woman, like, 93% of the time) submit and allow to be treated like an object. another user also said that fandom is a tool of patriarchy and i couldn’t agree more at this point.

also, i’m sorry, but i don’t give a FUCK if “objectification” or kinks where a woman gets constantly put down—by, specifically, a man—is your kink. it’s not empowering. you’re reading about a woman being narrowed down into a fuck toy and completely disregarding everything else. and trust me when i say that i used to be into this stuff until i realized how smut/porn addicted i was and how this type of kink just shames women and narrows them down to pocket pussies. i don’t know what radicalized me but yeah.

i know people can write and post whatever they want, but it gets to a point. and that point is when you completely disregard the years of work it took for women to be treated as anything but objects. and some may say “it’s not that deep,” but trust me, it is. with the state of the world and the very clear recession there’s going on, it IS that fucking deep. and if you can’t see how media/pop culture and the current state of the world influence each other, then research. for the love of god, please research it.

i’m pretty sure that’s the end of this post, but i just wanted to make shit clear because i didn’t in my original post (my bad sorry). all love to anyone that reads this.

if anyone wants to talk about this with me, just send me a message through my anon request thingy.

why do i keep seeing “young!ditzy!reader” or “trophywife!reader” or stupid shit like that where authors make the ‘reader’ the most fragile person in the world??

at the end of the day, this recession theory shit is real. and it is seen clearly as day on this app.

why are the inspo pics for the oneshot just blonde and skinny white girls?? why are we making the reader sweet and innocent and fragile??

and look, there’s nothing wrong about being a blonde and skinny white girl, but after seeing the same pictures as inspo for a series or a oneshot, it gets annoying and repetitive how there’s no diversity.

also, i’m not saying every post in the “x reader” tag is like this, but they just keep popping up on my feed and i had to speak my mind about it.

please, if anyone reads this, tell me if you found the same problem or i’m just going crazy.

[writingbluerose]

TWST DRABBLE #18

The distant jazz music could be heard from all around while you and the others walked on the pale-yellow cobbled streets. Admiring the traditional houses and gentle music, you were most grateful that Jade had invited you and Grim to this event ;

When he came personally to Ramshackle to invite you, you found it hard to say no, double hard since he was your boyfriend and all that. What you didn't expect was that he'd invited Rook, Riddle and even Malleus to come assist him. Didn't he say he only needed to fill Floyd's spot...? Well, you'd rather not ask him...

And that's how you ended up here. Jade was in the front, guiding you to the main spot of the wedding with the others behind him, you watching Grim and Malleus happily chatting “Ohh, a fish!” “Grim be careful...” But the cat did not hear you, he happily skipped after the fish not noticing the barrel that he soon ran into, “Ah look at that he went right into that barrel” Malleus' gentle voice had an amused tint to it, you sighed, “His fault for being a glutton all the time” “You should pay more attention to your surroundings Grim” Riddle's stern voice scolded him while he watched the cat sniff from the pain before taking a spot on your shoulders ; “I'm truly mesmerized by this place Jade, so did you truly grow up here?” The merman chucked “Here yes, but not on the surface, as you know I was born an eel so of course I had spent my childhood in the waters. But of course, me, Floyd and Azul were given a lot of training and lessons about how to live on land before we got our first transformation potion” “Is that so? — Malleus put a hand on his chin in wonder — to think you'd need to learn so much just for a potion...” Jade chuckled again before continuing his walk

After a while of walking, you finally arrived at the place. A beautifully decorated harbor with a wooden path heading to a boat decorated with a dozen of different white flower bouquets. At the beginning of the wooden path, a gate of the same material could be seen, decorated with beautiful pink roses accompanied by a white cloth that was slowly shifting in the wind. And of course, the main decoration couldn't be missed, a beautiful silk path with beautiful designs fit for the theme of the city you were now in “Jade this is amazing! I don't feel like I'm enough to go to this wedding, it's beautiful” Jade laughed and put his hand around your waist “Now don't be so modest my dear, I chose you to come with me for a reason after all” Jade gave you one of his soft smiles “Oh how nice, you're all here! I hope you didn't wait too long”

Suddenly, a smooth yet soft voice made its way to your ears, and turning around, you found standing behind you an amazing tall lady, dressed in a black dress with a hat that blocked the sun out of her face, a face that..., it looked oddly the same with Jade's... could it be—? “Ah yes, everyone, this is my mother” Of course! The resemblance is uncanny... “And who is this nice company Jade?” “These are my best friends from Night Raven Collage” Everyone's expressions quickly turned to surprised ones, since to be called a best friend by the Jade Leech? That was something else ( Malleus seemed quite happy at the title, his smile was quite giddy )

You laughed at his expression, not noticing Jade making his way to you. He gently took your hand and guided you to his mother : “And this, mother — he gestured to you with a smile — is my girlfriend” You blushed, embarrassed, before giving the woman a little wave, at which Jade chuckled once again “My, my, is this the little Shrimpy I've heard about from Floyd? He could never stop talking about how you have my son Jade over here wrapped around your fingers” Jade's eye twitched at hearing whatever his twin said to his mother, but kept his smile on anyway, “My name is Georgina Leech, it's wonderful to meet you dear” You gave her a small smile in return to hers “The pleasure is mine miss” The woman took your hands in hers and shaked them, making you laugh

This might be the best event you've been to yet

© writingbluerose 2025

[figure-it-out7]

Stalker Simon Riley, who just by chance finds you out on his daily run one day, thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and follows you around (at a good distance of course) eventually following you back home.

Simon, who thinks you're oblivious and pretty (just the way he likes them) and goes into your apartment, (breaking in in simplemans terms) after watching you from a distance becomes not enough, and decides to bug your home.

Who doesn't know you're a total geek with a pretty facade, with skills that totally outweigh his in stalking and security (you've probably stalked others once or twice but no need for him to know that-)

Who doesn't know you've already clocked that he's trespassing, your hidden cameras catching him in every room he walks into (pretty much the whole apartment)

You, who at first wants to call the police, seeing his skull mask balaclava and big size, but decides against it because, who wouldn't want a 6 foot something, built like an Greek Olympian in their house? (Let's be reasonable here, I probably wouldn't, but for the plot-)

So instead, she watches him. How he tiptoes around her house, like a cautious cat, making sure to leave things where he sees them and not touching too much, just putting his 'hidden' cameras and audio devices up in places he thinks are best to hear and see you.

You who, when you get home, try very, (seriously, who puts a camera on an obvious spot on the bookshelf?) very hard not to go searching for the cameras, since he could be watching, and just continue with life as normal. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

Him, who watches you, day in and day out, seemingly content in doing just that. Not knowing the day he walked through the door, you bugged his phone to find his location, and after that, when he was away on deployment, bugged his home (brother how do you live on the floor and only have the big tv you watch me on in your living room?) So technically it's not him watching you, it's you watching him, finding out who he is and how he lives.

The day he realizes it's the other way around, he's got Johnny and Gaz over, showing them the flat screen TV he's got with all your rooms on display.

Gaz finds it a bit revolting, thinks he should lighten up, and probably take down a few cameras (Really Simon? The hallway?) While Johnny cracks a joke, something along the lines of how Simon could get in trouble with you if you find out, and suddenly you..... laugh?

You, who realizing what you did, go stock still and try go about your business, hoping they didn't catch it, but they certainly did.

Simon, Johnny, and Gaz all sit there, confused, and don't understand why you laughed. How you laughed at that joke that Johnny made. You couldn't hear him.....could you?

Simon, who's now searching his house for bugs and cameras. Who finds at least a good dozen, all hidden in expert hiding spaces (girl, where'd you learn to do that?) And you, who's feeling more and more dread in the pit of your gut everytime he finds one of your hidden cameras.

(Getting this off my chest, whoever wants to continue this, you have my permission. This is meant to be a Stalker unknowingly being stalked type read, so you can keep along the lines.)

[yukioos]

HELLO! This is my first time requesting so my apologies if I didn't do it right

(｡>﹏<)

(Katsuki x insomniac!reader)

I love your writing style smm, so I was hoping you could write one where the reader is like an insomniac, staying up late to be chronically online and stuff and Katsuki tries to help her ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

I struggle with insomnia quite a bit, and I just stay up, scrolling through my phone or computer even if I don't have anything to do on there. And it's not like a one time thing either, it's like every night, and the only way I actually go to sleep is holding my plushies or listening to ASMR/or calming music, but it still takes quite a long time for it to kick in.

So I would love it if you could convey that in one of your oneshots!!

If you don't wish to go through with my request for any reason, no worries and I hope you have a good rest of your evening! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

I wish you tons of love and good times all around, thank you for listening (∩˃o˂∩)♡

katsuki trying to help his insomniac partner

katsuki was writing down what was on the board, listening to what mister aizawa was teaching when he turned his head to see you nodding off. he glared, and checked to see when the teacher wasn’t looking, then reached over to push your shoulder.

you slowly turned toward him and pouted, quietly grumbling, “what?”

“pay attention. you’re not failing this test, idiot.” he scoffed, changing his attention to his paper and trying to solve the equation in front of him.

after a few minutes, he heard a loud thump to his left, and he sighed once he saw what happened, your hair was splayed out everywhere, your head lay on the desk, and your arms wrapped around your head, protecting it in some sort of way. he reached his arm out, not caring about the equation anymore, and wrapped his hand around your bicep, squeezing it, and small explosions landed on your arm, causing there to be a black mark on your uniform.

you swatted his hand away, seemingly wide awake when he whispered, “we’re talking after class.”

you retorted and laughed, “no shit, katsuki, we always talk after class.”

he rolled his eyes and scoffed, done with your antics. but when the time came, and the class was done, school was officially over for the day, he dragged you by your hand into your dorm.

once you set your bags down and yawned, he asked, crossing his arms after he took his clothes off and changed, “why the hell are you always so tired during the day? do you not sleep or some stupid shit like that?”

you shook your head and then nodded, a little confused about how to explain it with just signals. you spoke, “i have insomnia.”

his eyes widened. well, now he felt like an asshole.

he mumbled, “first off, you need to sleep quicker and easier. what do you think makes you calmer and more sleepy?”

“i think being around people i like makes me sleepy because i feel relaxed around them, like a comfort person. then i like listening to asmr, i love listening to soft taps and crunchy sounds! it’s so cool!” you exclaimed.

he rolled his eyes. he didn’t know what the fuck asmr was, but he assumed it helped, so he spoke, “sleep with me tonight, and we’ll put that asmr thing on.”

“really?” you asked, eyes shining with admiration. all he was worrying about was your phone, as you managed to check it around a hundred times a day, even when you weren’t supposed to. who knew what you would be like at night?

so when it came to be around eight at night, you found yourself in katsuki’s dim room, with his large television screen opened up to the youtube app. you complained, “why are we here so early, kats?”

he answered, “because i’m guessing you take a long time to sleep. put on your favorite channel and get in bed.”

he stripped off his shirt as you took control of the remote, typing in the letters of your favorite asmr channel before clicking on a video. you climbed into bed with katsuki and crawled closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth.

after a couple of minutes, you reached over to the nightstand to grab your phone when katsuki forced your hand down. he argued, “no phones past eight.”

you immediately tried to argue as well, “but—“

“go the hell to bed. no phones.” he kept his word, and eventually your eyes started to feel heavy.

you mumbled, digging your face deeper into his side, and around two hours later, after conversations, and switching through multiple videos, he finally felt your breathing evening, and he sighed.

although you had to wake up early in the morning, two hours preparing to sleep was better than many more hours. he smirked to himself, katsuki had to make this part of your nightly routine.

hi i hope this was realistic enough! i’m so glad you love my writing, you have no idea how much this affects me

[the-sour-patch-crew]

Going to use this to talk about our own stuff!

----

Feeling like becoming someone else

A lot of our shifts do seem sudden, like a light switch! But other times, we are more like a dimmer light switch. You feel yourself changing, gaining more traits of another person. Admittedly, the "dimmer" switch causes a lot of system denial for us. It gives us time to panic and think that we are just masking, regressing, or something else. But, slowing feeling yourself become someone else is still 100% a valid, system switching experience. I would like to see it talked about more. Just in general, all the ways people experience shifts and how they feel are super interesting.

Being unable to recognize amnesia

Yup. If I forget something, I don't realize it until someone brings it up, and then we sit there and just... process the fact that there is a very fuzzy, or full gap, in our memory we had zero idea was there.

Staying in front for weeks at a time

So, I think Kit is still the only one who has been *weeks* in front. But, the others have gone multiple days, to over a week stuck in front. It is exhausting, but for someone like Ashe or Holo who don't get to experience life as often, it is also a wonderful time for them. But yeah, it's physically and mentally a lot on the body when someone who isn't the main fronter is in front for so long. But Kit feels exhausted all the time anyway so maybe it's just life in general causing front exhaustion. 😂

Being unable to internally communicate

It's totally normal for people to not have internal communication. We, however, are lucky enough to have great internal communication. Only two who can't are Kit and the Kid. But, they can communicate internally with others in the system at least.

Feeling like you don't have problems because you are disconnected from them

Hm. This one is hard. Because of our memory all being shared, we all equally feel every issue to varying degrees. We all know we got problems and what problems individuals in the system are dealing with. Even if it's not our problem, we are connected to it. I think, and this is why she scares Kit sometimes, it is the Kid who can disconnect from the problems. Dissociation is really strong with her, and it helps her disconnect, and thus, life has no problems anymore, and she's just enjoying the present.

Constant denial

Yeah. It's in short burst, and often the system is good at smacking the thoughts back, but its there. It's pretty regular like most intrusive thoughts.

Rapid changes

Not really. This one I don't feel applies to us. Some days we rapid switch, but overall we are pretty consistent in most things.

Comorbidities

I have some yeah. Don't want to talk much about it, but yeah, there are some things attached, and play off other things.

Autism

You bet I have it, and yes, that is one thing that has influenced my trauma and system

Disliking your system

I like mine. Pretty sure everyone in here is on that same page. No comment here. But, I feel for those who have it much rougher than us. I don't judge, and as long as the person who doesn't like their system doesn't demand it of others, I got no beef about it.

Wanting final fusion

I hope those who want it get it! Currently, we have no interest in final fusion. Integration and cohesion are what we want most. If we can exist together and thrive, that's how we'd like to stay. But, if fusions happen we won't panic or be upset. Healing looks different, and time changes things.

Common things in DID that no one likes to talk about

- switches that feel like you’re turning into someone else rather than them taking control (non-possessive switching)

- being unable to recognize amnesia until something requires you to remember something you forgot

- staying in the front for weeks at a time

- being unable to communicate with alters internally (this is so common why does everyone act like this is weird?)

- feeling like you don’t have any problems because you feel disconnected from them

- constant denial

- rapid identity, label, and appearance changes

- comorbidities, particularly personality disorders, anxiety disorders, and the schizophrenia spectrum

- autism (there is science pointing towards autistic people being more susceptible to trauma)

- disliking your system

- wanting final fusion

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Party4U

I wish you’d get here, kiss my face

Summary: It’s your birthday, and you throw a party in hopes Spencer Reid shows up because truth is, you only threw this party for him…

A/N: ngl writing this gave me bad flashbacks and now I never want to drink again…(I’m still going to)

BYR(b4 u Reid): Alcohol, mentions of drunk people, drunk kissing (yes lawd), awkward Spencer, season 1 Spencer, reader is over 20, no use of y/n, and sexual content. Lmk if I'm missing anything.

It was getting later into the night, people were stumbling around, dancing, taking shots, and playing beer pong. It had now become a full-blown party, and everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives.

You were a little buzzed, not too much. You were pacing yourself, holding off. You were waiting for someone. He promised he'd come. And Spencer Reid never broke a promise.

Especially not today. Not on your birthday.

“Birthday girl isn’t even drunk yet! This is not good.” Your roomate Sarah shouted, clearly several drinks in. “I’m waiting for someone.” You replied, sipping from your cup.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re waiting on that nervous little FBI chihuahua.” Your mouth fell open slightly. “Don’t be rude. He’s sweet. And yes, I am waiting.”

She sighed dramatically. “Well, good luck with that. This is definitely not the kind of place he’d show up to. You’re going to get stood up.”

You shook your head. Spencer wouldn’t do that. If he wasn’t coming, he’d at least call. He’d explain.

Still, as the party kept going and the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but feel the little twist in your stomach. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he got too nervous. This really wasn’t his scene.

Maybe the party was a bad idea.

You sighed, slipping into your room. Thankfully, it was empty. No couples, no drunken chaos. Just your stuff, your bed, and the hum of bass through the walls.

You sat at your vanity, looking at yourself in the mirror. You’d put effort into tonight. Found the perfect dress, something cute but not over the top, just enough to feel confident.

You knew Spencer didn’t care about appearances like most people. That’s part of why you liked him so much. But still, you wanted him to see you at your best.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in. It was silly to get this upset over a guy. You told yourself you’d take a few more drinks and forget about it in the morning.

Then your door creaked open.

“Sarah, I’ll be out in a bit.” You said without looking. But then-

“Hey.”

You turned quickly, and there he was.

Your whole face lit up. “Spencer!” You squealed, rushing to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He froze just for a second before placing his hands nervously and gently on your waist.

“You came! I was worried, I thought maybe…” you pulled back just enough to look at him. “I thought maybe you weren’t going to show up.”

“You were worried about me not showing up?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

“Of course I was! You are my main guest.” You beamed at him. He blinked like he couldn’t quite process your words. You were always open about how you felt, always flirting, always dropping not-so-subtle hints. But somehow, Spencer Reid, certified genius, 187 IQ, turned into a socially anxious mess whenever you did.

It wasn’t that he didn’t notice. He just wasn’t sure how to reciprocate it back in a way that wasn’t so awkward. You made flirting seem so effortless, so easy. He on the other hand would just make a total fool of himself.

You tugged his hand. “Come on, we’re taking a shot.”

But he didn’t budge. You looked back and saw the nerves written all over his face. “Everything okay?”

“I,um, I don’t know anyone here. And I’ve never… drank before.” He admitted.

You tilted your head, smiling at him softly. “Aw, I get to pop your cherry?” You teased, then quickly added. “I’m kidding Spence. You don’t have to drink. We can just hang out and laugh at the ones who had too much.”

His eyes softened. “I don't want you to be bored. It's your birthday.”

“Well you're here so I won't be bored.” you said sincerely. “No, it's okay… I want us to have fun. I’ll get over it.”

“Spencer we don't have to, I promise you,” you assured him, looking deep into his eyes so he knew how serious you were. “I want to.” He replied.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll take baby sips first.”

And then, to his surprise, you kissed his cheek. He blushed instantly.

You led him out into the crowd, fingers still laced with his, grabbing two bottles. “We can sip on these until you get a bit more comfortable.” You said into his ear, he nodded.

You then introduced him to a few friends, watching his posture shift slowly, the tension starting to ease once he realized no one was judging him. If anything, your friends seemed impressed with how highly you spoke of him. He noticed the way you held onto his arm, how you made him feel like he belonged.

“How’re you feeling?” You asked as the two of you stepped outside for some air.

“I feel… good. You know a lot of people.”

“Yeah, I tried to keep it small but, well, word got around.”

“I think it’s fascinating. That you’re so comfortable with people.” You looked up at him, smiling. “Some people think I talk too much.”

“I like it. I like listening to you talk.” He said it like it surprised even him. You blushed. “Really?”

He nodded, then straightened up. “Actually… I think I’m ready for something stronger.”

You grinned. “Alright, big guy. Let’s go.”

Inside, you let him pick the drink. You poured two shots and handed him his cup.

“You ready?”

He gave a tiny nod, and you clinked cups. The moment he drank it, he coughed, making the worst face. You handed him a chaser immediately.

“Thanks.” He said hoarsely, lips pink and eyes wide.

Soon, he loosened up even more. You could tell, he held your hand more confidently, his hand occasionally finding your waist. You liked it. He seemed…freer.

“Beer pong?” You suggested. He gave you a look. “I don’t know. I’m not great at throwing things.”

“You’re good at math. I’m sure there’s some equation you can solve to get it right.” He smiled. “I’m pretty sure the game requires physical coordination, too.”

You looked him up and down. “Well, physically, you look good.” You teased giving him a thumbs up. He blushed and you led him to the table.

Shockingly, you two were winning. Granted, your opponents were very, very drunk, but still.

When Spencer made the second-to-last cup, you cheered, high-fiving him. Your fingers interlaced and lingered, until he pulled away.

You turned toward the table, ready to shoot your shot until your felt Spencer’s hand find your waist, then slid down your back to the hem of your dress slightly adjusting it because it had ridden up a bit.

Your breath caught.

So did his.

He couldn’t believe he just did that, neither could you.

You won the game. Of course.

You guys took celebratory shots, Spencer was getting better and better each time.

Spencer sat on the couch and gestured to his lap. “What?” You asked, heart skipping. He didn’t answer, just gently pulled you down to sit on him.

One of his arm wrapped around your waist, resting on your thigh, while the other interlaced with your hand.

“Are you comfortable?” He whispered into your ear. “I always am when I’m with you.”

He looked up at you smiling. Butterflies. Everywhere.

You both sat, just watching people, content in the buzz of the room, the safety of his presence.

His fingers were now smoothing over your skin, rubbing gently, innocently, on your thigh.

You knew he probably didn’t even realize what he was doing, but it made your thoughts spiral. Your heart beat faster.

You both sat together for a little longer, having conversation about everything, your guys cheeks were flush but starting to slowly cool down. You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, soft but nervous, like he was building up the courage to say something.

“I, um… I have a present for you.” He said quietly, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your heart skipped a beat. “Spence, you didn’t need to-”

“I wanted to.” He cut in, his voice firm but still shy. His eyes searched yours. “Can I give it to you? In your room?”

Your stomach fluttered. You nodded, lips tugging into a smile as you stood and offered your hand. He took it, his fingers trembling slightly against yours as you led the way to your room.

You shut the door behind him, and took a seat at the edge of your bed, and he joined you. Close enough for your thighs to brush. You watched, your chest tightening, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it carefully, revealing a delicate gold necklace with a tiny diamond that shimmered under the soft light.

“Spencer…” your voice came out barely above a whisper. “This is beautiful.”

“You like it?” He asked, eyes hopeful, and nervous. “I love it.” You said genuinely, looking at him. “It’s perfect. I’m wearing this everyday.”

His mouth twitched into a small, relieved smile. “Can I put it on you?”

You turned without hesitation, he brushed your hair out the way, his fingers lightly touching your skin, featherlight and cautions, and that little contact sent a warm ripple down your spine.

He clasped it at the nape of your neck with slow, precise movements. His fingers lightly ran down your spine, and you turned to him, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug. “Thank you. I love it so much, Spence.”

“I’m really glad.” He said, his voice soft, eyes a little stunned by your closeness. His hand smoothed up and down your back, you pull back a little.

Your guys faces only inches apart, eyes low, and dazed. Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore, he was tired of depriving himself of you.

His hand came up, gently cradling your jaw, his touch careful. Then, slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, hesitant, he was scared you were going to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you kissed him back like your life depended on it, you had been waiting so long for this moment and you were even willing to wait longer. Your desperation flattered him. He never imagined he could make someone feel this way.

“I’ve wanted this so bad.” You murmured against his lips, brushing your thumb along his cheeks. “Really?” He asked, you just nodded and deepened the kiss more.

His hands found your waist, bolder now, pulling you onto him, your words had given him confidence. You settled there easily, legs on both sides, hands cradling his face as your kisses turned more insistent.

You pushed him down onto your bed, hovering over him, your lips moving from his lips down to his jaw. When his hands dropped from your waist, unsure again, you gently grabbed them and brought them right back to where they belonged.

You continued leaving a trail down his neck, teeth grazing his skin, listening to the tiny breathy sounds he couldn’t hold in. You barely heard it but, it was there. Your name, a whisper that lit something wild inside of you.

You reached for his tie, loosening it, and discarding it somewhere on the floor in your room. Your fingers hovered over the buttons of his shirt, you glanced up at him, silently asking for permission.

He nodded slowly, jaw tight with want, and you undid them, one by one, revealing more of him. He propped himself on his elbows, and pulled you into him for another kiss.

You slowly slid the shirt off of him, moving the fabric off of his arms. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your dress, dragging it up slowly, cautiously, until the edge of your underwear peeked.

You broke the kiss to take in this sight of him, your fingers exploring the planes of his chest, the softness of his skin. You planted kisses on him, over his heart, and when he tilted your chin up with his finger, his lips found yours again, hungrier.

You felt him, hard beneath you, pressing up against you, and instinctively, your hips rolled down against him, pulling a surprised moan from his mouth.

“Spencer…” you breathed out, your voice barely hanging on. His hands gripped your waist again, then slid lower to your ass, guiding your hips as he moved you over him with more intention. His breath was shaky, his voice low and warm and desperate.

He said your name, like a confession.

You grind your hips down again, his hands gripped you tighter, encouraging you to keep going, to keep moving against him. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, mouth parted in disbelief at the pleasure that rolled through him.

He looked completely undone, and it was just from you sitting on him, fully clothed.

You leaned down, kissing along the column of his throat, letting your lips linger just beneath his ear. “You okay?” You whispered, breath warm against his skin.

He nodded quickly, then stammered out. “Y-yeah. Definitely. More than okay.”

You smiled, biting back a laugh, because the way he looked, completely wrecked already, was maybe the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You sat up slightly, hands trailing down his chest, appreciating every inch of him.

“You’re really something else.” You said, brushing your thumb across his lower lip. He caught your hand, kissed your palm. So gentle and slow it made your breath hitch.

“You’re the one that’s something else.” He murmured, voice hoarse. “You’re perfect, everything you do.”

That made your chest ache, you leaned down, kissed him again, slow, deep, and meaningful. You needed him to feel what words can't say.

Spencer grabbed your waist, gently guided you onto your back, moving over you cautiously.

His mouth moved to the side of your neck, your dress slipped higher as you spread your legs slightly, letting him fit between them.

Your fingers found the back of his neck, pulling him to your lips. Spencer’s hand slid slowly up your body, tentative but curious, his fingers tracing the edges of your dress as it rose. When he finally pulled back to look at you, really look, his eyes landed on your black lace underwear, and he just admired.

He couldn’t believe this was real, you felt like a dream.

His fingers brushed over the fabric, hesitant. Gentle. You watched the awe on his face, the way he took you in like you were something sacred.

“Do you… want to take them off?” You softly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes darted up to meet yours, wide and startled. His chest rose and fell faster now, the weight of the moment clearly settling over him.

“We don’t have to.” You said quickly. “We can take things slow, Spencer.”

He swallowed hard, and gave you a nod. “I-I want this. I really do. I just… don’t want this to be…” he paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t want it to feel like a one-time thing. You’re not that for me.”

You nodded, smiling at him, your chest warm. “I know. Me neither.”

With a soft exhale, he gently reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it back down to cover you up.

He moved off of you, grabbed your hand pulling you up on your feet. His hands were careful, reverent, as he adjusted the strap of your dress onto your shoulder.

You reached for his shirt, draping it back over his shoulders and slowly buttoning it up, watching his cheeks flush a soft red under your gaze.

He cleared his throat. “What?”

“Nothing.” You said, smiling.

He hesitated, then asked. “Did you… want to keep going?”

You but your lip, nodding. “Of course I did. But I agree. When we do decide to… take that next step… it should be special. Not with a bunch of drunk people stumbling around downstairs.”

He laughed quietly, relieved. “Yeah..”

You kissed him again, softly.

“Should we go back to the party?” You asked, fingers laced with his. He nodded. “You go for now, I’ll be out there in a bit.” He tells you, you smirked at him knowing why he was going to stay back.

“Alright, if you need any help or anything just give me a call.” You teased, he looked at you shaking his head at your teasing. “Very funny.” He sarcastically said, but you caught the small smile tugging at his lips.

You opened your bedroom door and stepped out, flashing him one more smile before closing it behind you.

“Where have you been?” Sarah asked the second you turned around. “I was with Spencer.” You replied casually.

Her eyes widen. “Did you guys just-”

“No, we didn’t.” You cut her off quickly. “Let’s step away, come on.”

You led her away from your room, and thankfully she had gotten distracted by someone else and wandered off.

You glanced around the house, realizing how tired you were of the party. Your home felt overcrowded, loud, and no longer fun. You were close to calling the cops on your own party, but luckily the neighbors beat you to it.

You stood outside as an officer explained the noise complaint and curfew.

“Alright, sir. I’ll shut it down.” You said with a polite smile. He nodded, and you waved him off.

Back inside, you cut the music and made the announcement. “Alright guys, party’s over.” You watched everyone slowly trickle out. “Sorry.” You said to a few as they passed.

Spencer found you shortly after. He looked concerned. “What happened?”

“Police got called.” You told him with a shrug.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You smiled. “Honestly, I was about to call them myself if people didn’t start leaving soon.” He laughed, and you joined him.

Once it was just the two of you, and your very drunk roommates who had knocked out in their rooms, you both started cleaning up a little.

“It’s a mess.” You said, tossing red solo cups into the trash bag. “Yeah. People are gross.” He muttered as he poured out a half-full beer. “Thank you for helping me.” You said sincerely. “No problem.” He replied, flashing you a sweet smile.

After most of the mess was cleaned, you both settled on the couch. You leaned into his side, his arm wrapping comfortably around you.

“Can you spend the night?” You hesitantly asked, titling your head up to look at him. He nodded almost instantly. “Of course.”

You smiled, but he suddenly stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“Left something in the kitchen. I’ll be back.” He assured you. You nodded, watching him walk off. When he returned, your eyes lit up. He was holding a small cake with lit candles. It was your birthday cake, the one you had completely forgotten about.

He started singing softly, and your cheeks hurt from how hard you were smiling.

“Make a wish.” He said once he finished, and you did. You closed your eyes and blew out the flames.

He held the cake out toward you. “Take a bite.”

You eyes him suspiciously but leaned in anyway, and sure enough, he gently pushed the cake into your face. Just a little frosting dotted your nose and chin.

“Spencer!” You gasped, laughing as you lightly hit his arm. He laughed too, setting the cake down, and then leaned in to wipe the frosting from your skin with his finger. You watched him as he brought it to his lips, sucking it clean.

He moved closer, pressing his lips to yours.

“Happy birthday.” He whispered as he pulled back just slightly. You smiled at him. “Thank you.” And then you kissed him again, slower, softer…

Dividers from @hyuneskkami !!

Writing this was fun!! I love bold Spencer! 🤭 also listen to the song, I just rediscovered it and became obsessed again. Live, Love, Laugh Charli xcx <3

Thank you to all who reblog & comment!! I really appreciate it sm!

~ Tag List ~

@samslovebug @alastorssimp @sleepysongbirdsings @khxna

[mrs-bluemarine]

Hey, so remember that cyber bullying is lame as fuck and we don't like people who do that? *edited with more information

*Second edit to this post. Rot uses she/it pronouns. I know this now, but during making this post I was unaware, so below the cut I referred to her with they/them, before correcting myself in my first edit. I do apologize for misgendering her, as that was not my intention. I hope you can understand, thank you for reading

Content warning for talk of bullying, body shaming, threats of harm, joking about sexual trauma, and like, manipulation?

So the tl;dr is there's a person who I've been recently warned about that's rejoined the selfship community. They've hurt two people I know personally and care deeply for. I'm making this post because they don't wish for the attention to be on them, which I completely understand

I don't have any personal connection to this person, however I value the words of these two people (who I will call Mutual-A and Mutual-B) and I only wish for their safety and comfort. I do not want any harm or rude things sent to this blog, simply block and move on

Reblogs would be appreciated, and I ask for people to at least skim over what I talk about under the read more. I don't feel comfortable knowing that my other mutuals interact with a person who's harmed people that I care for

^ their new user name, since I don't want to type here and accidentally find this places where it shouldn't be. I do believe they had a different selfship blog here, that has since disappeared, I think they deleted it, since I had the original blocked and this one wasn't.

Now like mentioned previously, I have no ties to this person and the only "interaction" I've had with them was seeing the incredibly rude and disgusting things they've said about Mutual-A. As a nonsharer myself and someone who fights with my mental issues, I don't think shaming someone's body and outright wishing physical violence on people who share your comfort characters is a sane or normal thing to do. If these screenshots look familiar it's because they've been taken from a post about this person in the past, when this was originally happening

Again, talk of body shaming and wishes of harm (which no matter how silly is still a threat)

________________

________________

As for this second person, Mutual-B, what they've been through with them was some time ago. While Mutual-B wasn't a victim of harassment to as big of scale as Mutual-A, I still think their feelings on the matter are important to highlight. I don't have screenshots of these ordeals in particular, only word of mouth, but I trust this person deeply, and never before have they tried to bad mouth anyone without reason. On multiple occasions with this person Mutual-B has told me they threatened to call out B as a p.ro.shipper, something THEY ARE NOT, simply for reblogging or interacting with posts with tags they didn't already have filtered out. I've know B for a while now and I can tell you that it's simply not true

Warning for jokes of sexual trauma/SA and manipulation

________________

________________

That's all. Once again reminding to NOT attack this person, just block and move on. For a community built on self love and comfort I don't find any of this shit to be acceptable to have in it

________________________________

EDIT, because apparently we're not done here.

Since making this post, this person (will be referring to them/her as Rot) has since made a post addressing the situation. I'm also adding on more screenshots found by myself and others (apologize for the quality of some, as they're taken from my computer due to the picture limit) Going to go ahead and add another content warning for talk of SA/a character who has committed it, will add more warnings if needed

First thing Rot talks about in her post is how her interaction with Moot-A was a year and a half ago, which isn't true, right now it's been barely over a year and two months ago. I feel like this is a way to try to paint us badly by "Bringing up stuff from way back in the past", I understand a few months difference isn't much, this is a tiny nitpick I'm sure but it still didn't settle right with me. I can also understand if this was just plain misremembering.

Second point, as for the warning above, Rot makes it clear that she ships herself with a canonical rapist, J.immy from the game Mouthwashing. The fact he assaulted his coworker is incredibly important to the story of the game, there is no denying it or any chance that this could be some gross misinterpretation. Not that Rot tries to deny this. She understands who Jimmy is. She just choices to ignore it.

________________

________________

And I find that really fucking disturbing. Considering how she assures people she doesn't condone his actions and how she says she takes SA seriously, then why the fuck would you even ship with him in the first place? Would also like to point out that if you do choose to ignore the worst flaw of his character... there's still so much more to him that's simply bad. But that's irrelevant/personal opinion. J.immy is a well written character and villain, I can agree, however he is a man who should not be touched with a ten foot pole

Considering a lot of her harassment towards A was about how bad A was for "mischaracterizing" a shared F/o and how A diverged from canon, and how much she disliked A for it, I find it very hypocritical for her to ignore J.immy's biggest flaw. The fact she doesn't mention his actions in game isn't something I didn't notice either, whether that's intentional or not I'm not sure, but it still feels gross

She and others also mention the character K.enjaku. However, I have not watched/read J.J.K. so I have no comment on that.

My final note on this is simply. I don't care if you ship with villains, I myself have multiple characters that are villains or bad people that I hold dearly. (this is a reason why i'm hesitant to talk about this in particular) however. There's just some things and characters you shouldn't fucking touch.

The last thing I will add to this edit is her stance on pro.shipp.ing. She's reprimanded past friends for reblogging posts from pro.shippers, she's threatened to call them out as pro.ship for it. She also pointblank puts on her blog that she doesn't want that part of the community to interact with her. Except she still continues to reblog posts with the pro tags. People make mistakes, but the fact she's scolded and threatened people for doing the same while these posts get to stay on her blog upsets me

**I've also been given screenshots of dark content she's reblogged. Now I do agree with the statement that dabbling in darker themes with ships is fine (there's some big scary ""n*ance"" in that comment). I won't shame someone for enjoying fucking idk kidnapping or unhealthy relationship dynamics. Again, I don't think I'm the right person to play holier than thou on a high horse, but I feel it's worth mentioning since someone went as far as to send me those screenshots.

Warning for allusions to SA in the 3rd/nonfiltered post

________________

^^ last screenshot is added simply because nonsharervents has a "bad rep" because OP is neutral to/allows pro.shippers to interact

________________

[with-my-murder-flute]

Oh yes, definitely. I also have Kiwi history thoughts that might be nothing, or might have merit.

It sounds like they were shooting kind of at random, hoping to find a habitable planet somewhere, which like, lol good luck. You need as much as you can get.

I'm Canadian and have basically no cultural fluency in Māori history and mythology. It's one of many rabbit holes I have had to restrain myself from leaping down because my time and energy are pretty limited. I think a more informed analysis from a Māori perspective might be useful and illuminating on this topic, but I am 1000% not the person able to present it. Here I'm trying to keep to the subjects I feel like I have a passable understanding of. I don't want to be disrespectful; if I am, I apologize and am open to correction.

I'm looking at this from a certain angle mostly because I learned how to sail when I was a kid and am curious about the history of maritime navigation and ocean currents. So I don't know if I'm seeing something that's not there, but I feel like there are interesting parallels with how wind-powered ships have to travel in the ocean around Aotearoa/New Zealand.

Ocean currents are huge shapers of wind patterns, and it's much easier to sail with the wind than against it. So ocean currents are kind of like the subway map of a city. Point A and Point B might be very close together physically, but if they're accessed through completely different train lines and you need to go half an hour out to switch trains before coming half an hour back, that could be an untenably large trip.

(It's so much easier to walk, but in this metaphor, "walking" requires a ship that can propel itself and travel in any direction with little concern for what the wind or currents are doing, and those weren't invented until the 19th century. Or like, galleys and other oared vessels existed, but they were not good matches for this kind of long voyage on the open ocean.)

And basically... NZ is the last big stop on the line before you reach the cold ferocious circumpolar vortex that surrounds Antarctica. To get there, you have to go aalllllll the way out from little island to little island, until you're 4,000 km northwest, and then turn to follow this absolute asshole of a current for four thousand kilometres before you find this place.

(map 2 source)

Then: What's that? You want to leave? You say you're "only 1,000 kilometres from Australia" and "You got here from Tahiti and you want to go back" and "it shouldn't be that hard"? HAVE FUN IN ANTARCTICA, BITCH.

At least, that's what I'm seeing from the data on the currents and reconstructed migration patterns. From what I can tell, it's extremely likely Polynesians made it to South America, but... probably not from New Zealand. There are extremely few signs of humans successfully making it much further south than that.

So, like... that long shot mission, that jump into the void, carrying what you need with you because there's a definite risk that once you leave you're on your own and gone for good, that feeling of being stuck on your own piece of dirt wondering if you'll ever get back to anywhere else in the universe, the sudden ability to travel across impossible distances because you can sail against the wind and keep food fresh for years at a time... I keep looking at the two pictures and finding similarities.

It compels me. What can I say? It compels me.

TLT theory: Aim, Jod, and the second part of the message

My brain is fevered. I feel like I've constructed an elaborate Pepe Silvia corkboard in my mind, and it feels like it makes sense of everything, but I honestly have no clue if that certainty will last very long.

I think I know what the Messenger is carrying. I think I know why John has waited ten thousand years.

Spooky preview quote from HtN chapter 2:

I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time.

Spoilers for Gideon, Harrow, and Nona the Ninth.

BoE's chronology has always been kind of weird to me: Five thousand years after the Resurrection happens, they pop up with intense and detailed knowledge of the 21st century! Jod destroys languages and cultures and societies, but BoE keeps popping up! How.

Originally I thought the continuous thread over the years was a Lyctor who helped them (and the necromantic implant does seem to point that way) but I also think part of it is that the ships that escaped just before Earth's devastation have been showing up one by one, over a huge span of time. That's why Wake says "My long-dead natal sun" and can quote Eminem at length; she spent ten thousand years suspended in time, before re-entering it.

NtN, John 19:18:

They said they’d managed to find some poor dipshit geek who’d fixed the FTL problem of getting locked in the chrono well, you know, moving so fast you were stuck doing quantum wheelies. They’d come up with something where you could oscillate out so long as the ship was attuned to a prearranged spectrum outside. I still don’t understand the maths. It’s going to take me ten thousand years to understand it. I couldn’t follow, but A— could. He said immediately, What is the point if you still have no fucking clue where your ship is going to end up when you shake out of FTL. They said, Aha, but we can track it once it’s out. A— said, It could be halfway across the universe or phasing through a planet. They kept arguing that probably wouldn’t happen [...] They said it was expensive, so twelve ships would go first, with one guiding them out with the beacon frequencies like a tugboat leading a cruise liner, triangulate for Tau Ceti, dump the population, and come back.

I think that AIM's message is the beacon that will call the last of the FTL fleet out of the chrono well. They are "we", they are the first of two parts, because their identity is the person they were before coming the Messenger, and the ships that still haven't oscillated back into three-dimensional space yet, because they are under AIM's personal guardianship/intimately tied to possession of her body.

NtN, John 5:4

I think the only reason I haven’t done it already is that I can’t bear the idea that I wouldn’t be able to touch them—that they’d still be out there …

I think Jod has been at this for so long because he is waiting for an event that could literally take an infinite amount of time to occur. He hasn't killed the entire colonized population yet because he wants something out of them, and it doesn't seem to be labour or devotion or even thanergy.

I think he's looking for the fleet's beacon, in a way that's like lighting a grassfire to flush animals out of hiding and deprive them of shelter. I think he's constantly killing planets and relocating and resettling populations before funnelling them together again, like a distillery trying to heat and separate different liquids as they move from flask to flask, because he wants to finally decant the key to the last ships that escaped him.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YOU'RE WELCOME, BABY"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH BUCKY

I was planning on adding smut to this fic, but it ended up being adorable and sweet in every way (I'm ovulating guys, my mood swings are crazy right now)

Hope you like it!

POV: You're in those days of the month, and Bucky doesn't hesitate to give you the support and comfort he knows you need

Bucky paced in front of you every few minutes in his black leather suit and bright, clear eyes, making your ovaries physically ache from how much you needed him.

It was that time of the month, so you were much more sensitive than usual, and him pacing around like that didn't help at all.

You were alone in Avengers Tower.

Steve knew about your condition, and since Tony asked him to go with him on a quick mission, he asked his best friend to keep an eye on you.

You didn't know if he did it on purpose or if it was just his way of moving, but when he pulled a water bottle out of the fridge and leaned against it, making the metal of his arm squeak slightly, you thought you might faint right there.

He noticed your scrutiny, and a soft smile spread across his face.

"Do you want some?" —he asked, raising the bottle. You shook your head.

“I can’t drink water that cold,” you replied. “It’s not good for my…” You blushed violently.

You had no idea why you were talking about it openly with everyone and why you were embarrassed with him.

“…ovaries,” he finished for you. “I can make you something else if you want,” he offered. “Are you hungry? Wanda taught me a couple of recipes, both without paprika.” He laughed. “I know you don’t like spices.”

The fact that he’d paid enough attention to let him know that about you made you squeal internally.

“Thanks, Bucky, but I’m fine for now,” you added. “I mean, I could be worse.”

“I’m glad you’re not.” He smiled, sitting down on the couch, leaving a little distance between you. “What do you want to do?”

“God, why does everything he says have to sound so sexual?” You thought, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.

"I don't know," you murmured. "What do you want to do?"

He watched you intently for a few moments. He lifted his metallic hand to trace the curve of your cheek with his index finger, making you shudder at his touch.

"I can think of a few things we could do, doll," he whispered, his voice lower than before.

His presence, his touch, his smell, that damn leather suit, and the tone he used made your ovaries ache more than before. You needed that man, you needed him NOW

"Oh yeah?" you asked playfully. "What were you thinking about?"

Bucky smiled when he saw you playing along. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb running over your lower lip.

"I was thinking about how much I'd love to feel your lips around my cock," he blurted out, getting straight to the point, making you let out a stifled gasp. "I was thinking about how much I need to taste you and make you cum in my mouth." He continued, slowly slipping his hands under your shirt to rest them on the skin of your hips, making slow, tortuous circles there. "But above all else, I was thinking about how beautiful you are," he whispered, looking at you with equal parts tenderness and intensity. "God, you have no idea, do you, baby?"

Bucky, my face is covered in pimples from my period. I'm not pretty, especially right now.

"You're wrong about that," he whispered, holding your face in his hands. "You've always been beautiful, especially right now." He smiled. "I don't care about your physical appearance. If you have pimples, wear sweats, or if you suddenly have gray hair, I don't care," he listed. "What really matters is what you look like here." He placed the palm of his hand on your torso. "And here." He pointed at your head with his index finger

"Oh, Buck," you blurted out. "You're going to make me cry." You complained, feeling the tears threatening to come out.

"That's the last thing I want, honey," he replied. "I just want you to be okay, and above all, to show you how precious and special you are." He whispered, opening his arms on either side of him. "Come here, doll."

You snuggled up against his chest, and before you fell asleep, you called out to him:

"Buck?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thanks for everything you said, I…" you swallowed hard, "needed it."

"You're welcome, baby," he murmured, placing a loving kiss on top of your head, "go to sleep."

And that's what you did.

Within seconds, you fell asleep because, let's be honest, who wouldn't fall asleep in Bucky Barnes's arms?

[ichatake]

Hey! I don't know if you have time to do this, since you're probably working on other writings, but can I ask for Kakashi's headcanon on Valentine's Day with the reader? Thank you for reading this.

Kakashi on Valentine’s Day Headcanons

A/N: woah, I’m alive? I’m alive! The audacity for me to just appear out of nowhere after not showing signs of life is insane, but I’m here. Not fully going to come back, but here. Anyways, I hope you guys are doing well, and enjoy these headcanons!

✧ He’s a little clueless at the beginning, considering he’s never had to celebrate this occasion ever before. Please don’t judge him when he brings you a bouquet full of all kinds of flowers, because he wasn’t really sure what kind you liked the most. He’s trying his best, and that’s all that matters.

✧ Despite his lack of knowledge on what to do, he manages to plan out a nice date, just for the two of you. He’s not a romantic guy, but his books have taught him a little bit on how to treat a lady. Not only that, but Guy managed to find out what he was up to, and he wanted to help oh-so-badly.

✧ Kakashi makes sure you’re always comfortable, and that you spend the rest of your day enjoying yourself. He rarely has any free time, so it comes to you as a surprise when he’s in front of the your door with that big bouquet of flowers.

✧ “I wanted to do something special for you,” he tells you, itching the back of his neck as you take the flowers.

✧ For the strong ninja he is, he’s a little nervous and shy. He doesn’t know how to act, and he keeps sweating at the thought of ruining the day for you. Would you like the flowers? Would you think he’s too cliché—did you even celebrate Valentine’s Day? All of his thoughts would vanish once he sees that beautiful smile on your lips.

✧ He makes home cooked meals for you, knowing you’d like it. He walks you around the village and visits your favorite places. He buys you whatever you seem interested in, and when you try to argue, he’d simply shush you and hand you the item. He acts so nonchalant, but on the inside he’s screaming.

✧ He’ll take hours to build up the courage to take your hand, but when he does, he melts into your touch immediately. He’s worried you’d feel his sweaty hands, but relaxes when you don’t bring it up.

✧ He’ll listen to you talk, nodding his head or answering softly. He doesn’t like to talk about himself, and he rather listen to you all day. His smile never fades as he admires you speak. You’re so precious.

✧ When the sun is finally coming down, he mentally prepares himself for the next part. His eyes would dart around your face, looking into your eyes and lowering to your lips. Your voice was suddenly cloudy and fuzzy as his own thoughts invaded all of his senses. This was it. It was now or never. The two of you never shared a kiss before, and he was nervous.

✧ “Kakashi?” His name suddenly snaps him out of his trance, his eyes darting back up to yours, “Yes?” He asks, gulping down the lump that had formed in his throat not too long ago. Have you caught on? “Are you okay? I’m not boring you, am I?” You ask with worry, examining his eyes.

✧ “what? No, not at all,” he shakes his head, “I just… had something in mind,” he looks at you and bites his lip, his finger hooking on the top of his mask. You caught on quickly to what was happening the moment his eyes narrowed anywhere but to your own. You watched eagerly, your own hand resting on top of his as if to push him to pull his mask down. And he did. Your eyes scanned his face—because although you had been together for some time, you had never been accustomed to his face. He grew a little uncomfortable—because he had no idea what you’re were thinking.

✧ His nerves never calm down until you press your lips against his gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you both indulge yourselves in the soft action. The feeling of your warmth relaxes him, his tense muscles flailing as he brings you closer to his body. The best part of Valentine’s Day was you.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Curse Your Name

𖤐❝Halazia❞𖤐

❥Vampire Ateez x fem reader

❝What is destined cannot be avoided.❞

Masterlist + Visualizers

✫彡wordcount: 10k

(✯◡✯)genre: yandere, fantasy, smut, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: see general warnings in the masterlist: talk of virginity and sex, kissing, drinking wine, manipulative hwa and joong take advantage of drunk reader (ONLY by drinking from her), a few mentions of death of a family member

➯a/n: wwwah im scared to let you guys down, i hope you enjoy !!

✫bleeding hearts✫@spenceatiny18 @gigglensnort @londonbridges01 @soobieboobiebaby @kllerwaifu @stayatinykatsy @onyxmango @purple-bell @peachyscenes @emilysecresy @ninjakitty15 @imeverycliche

❝Drink from me and live... forever.❞

MDNI.

𖤐❝I promise.❞𖤐

     𖤐 It was late fall. You were twelve years old.

    The water was cold between your fingers. The grass was soft as you laid on your stomach.

    You were all alone.

    The rest of the village was gathered together, celebrating the life of your recently departed mother.

    But you did not feel like celebrating. You only felt like dunking your head in the water and screaming until you ran out of air.

     When you sat up to do so, a familiar presence had stopped you before you could.

     "Go away, Mingi..." You already knew it was the invisible man. You didn't have to look or ask.

    The grass beside you sunk as his unperceivable form took a seat next to you.

"You're in pain. Has someone harmed you-"

"I said go aw-"

"I will do no such thing." You were shocked at his sudden stern tone. In the years that he's haunted both your dreams and your waking hours, he's always been soft spoken towards you. "I will do no such thing," he repeated a bit softer when he sensed your unease, "I will not leave your side when you are in such pain. Pray tell me, what has hurt you?"

You looked towards the water. The river where he had first came to you, that day you were learning how to fish from your mother. "I cannot speak it aloud... it's too horrible."

You felt his cold hand on your back, you felt him looking at you. You pulled your knees up and hugged them to your chest.

"Your mother?" He asked gently, getting his answer when you began to sob immediately. "Oh, sweet child," his ghostly embrace was more comforting than you felt it should have been; but you took what you could get. "I wish I was here with you. One day I will hug you and make all of your pain go away. I promise." 𖤐

"Did you hear me?" Wooyoung reaches across the gap between his horse and your and Hongjoong's, flicking your arm.

"Owwww," you draw on dramatically, "what was that for?"

You had been journeying with the Vampires for twelve days. Despite your initial efforts to distance yourself, to build a metaphorical wall between you and the trio, you started opening up to them around the eight day mark.

You no longer flinched from every touch, but you certainly didn't search them out. You didn't keep your answers to their questions to one or two words anymore, but you didn't offer them anything unprompted.

"I said we have about another three hours before we reach the castle," he repeats what you missed while you were stuck in your own memories, "do you need to stop for a little bit?"

"Oh," you shake your head, "no, I'm okay. Thank you, My Lord."

Hongjoong hums from behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Your hips must be aching by now, you are still not used to being on horseback."

"I can bare it," you sigh, fidgeting with the bandage on your hand. "My Lords, might I ask a question?"

"Didn't you just?" Yunho, from his own horse in front of you, smiles over his shoulder, "of course, speak freely amongst us."

"Well," you take a breath. You don't know if you really want the answer. Because you're afraid. But going in blind is worse. "What will happen when we arrive to the castle?"

"No need to be frightened." Yunho speaks softly — and you don't have to ask how he knows you're scared. After almost two weeks with the councilmen and their subordinates, you know they can hear your heartbeat quickening no matter how steady you try to keep it with deep breaths. "We will call upon the rest of our soulmates, if they don't greet us when we arrive."

"That's very well but..."

"But...?" Wooyoung mimics you, tilting his head.

"Will... uhm, forgive me for being so crass, My Lords, but will they drink from me like you did?" You really don't want them to. Even though you were beginning to form a sort of trust with the trio, the times they fed from you over the past days always left you feeling queasy.

It was nowhere near as bad as the first time, when you had nearly passed out from the blood loss, but it still leaves you feeling dizzy and oddly warm.

You don't want that feeling from anyone, really. It feels sinful. The warmth in your body feels like it taints your soul. At least with the three of them, you have some sort of idea what to expect. Again, you have the beginnings of trust with them. They always ask for permission after the first day in the church. And you always grant it because something deep inside of you feels... sad at the thought of denying them.

Yunho is the gentlest, but he has the biggest thirst. Perhaps he's careful with you on purpose because he knows that you'll be losing a lot of blood. After you offer up your wrist to him, he kisses your forehead before taking as little as possible — which for him is still... a fair amount.

Hongjoong falls somewhere in the middle. He prefers your neck, which you had found always makes you dizzy the fastest, and left you feeling the warmest. He likes to feed at night; he climbs on top of you when everyone besides the designated guard is asleep and the only thing you see when awakening at the feeling of his lips on your throat is his glowing eyes.

Wooyoung... well, for a lack of better words; Wooyoung is feral. He's only fed from you twice since the day in the church because he knows that he can't handle it — he knows he can't stop himself. Maybe going hand in hand with that, feeding into it, is the fact that he waits until his hands are shaking and his throat is bone dry to feed from you because he's so afraid to harm you. When he finally does ask, and you remove your cloak; he doesn't have any preference or favorite. He tackles you and holds you tightly as he feeds from you, moaning and growling all the while.

If Yunho's soft kiss of gratitude leaves you warm, if Hongjoong's preference for your neck makes you hot — Wooyoung's begging eyes and bestial noises throw a match into your very being and set you ablaze.

But it's been two days since any of them last sunk their fangs into you, and you've connected the reasoning as to why. Wooyoung said the High King has a "large appetite" and Manon was making sure you were very hydrated.

You aren't an idiot.

They're preparing you to be sucked dry.

"Not all at once, no," Hongjoong reassures you with a soft squeeze to your hip. "Since we're already more used to your scent, we will make sure they stay in line. Though..." You can tell he doesn't want to tell you this next part, but he does anyway, "I will tell you that I have never known the High King to wait for anything he wants, and he will want you immediately."

He can hear you gulp. Your heartbeat rattling your rib cage. "I will make sure he's gentle, little one. No harm will come to you. I promise."

𖤐❝It is you.❞𖤐

To say that the castle is imposing would be an understatement. You can almost feel all of the darkness wafting off of the expansive building as you grow ever closer.

When you came up the large hill it was situated upon, a bell had started ringing. You didn't have to be told that the sound was to tell others of the return of the councilmen. Others that include the High King and the rest of his council.

   Hongjoong squeezes your hip gently as he hears your heartbeat speeding up.

There's a parade of servants that are lined up by the main doors, all bowing as your entourage finally arrives right in front of the castle.

"Rise." Is all that Hongjoong says, and they all snap into action; running to help the others in tending to the horses or carrying bags.

He jumps down and points to one of them, beckoning him forward. The servant bows, "thank Th-"

    "No time for formalities. Yes, 'thank The Goddess, My Lords have returned safely', blah blah blah. Listen closely. Gather the others. Gather the King. Tell them we have found her."

    Hongjoong watches the boys eyes widen, and follows his gaze. Wooyoung is helping you down, holding you upright as you stumble.

     The Lieutenant looks back to the boy, "did I say stare at her?"

    "Apologies, Lord Kim-"

    "No. I didn't. Hurry now, they have waited long enough."

    The boy disappears before his eyes, nothing but a blur as he hurries to inform the rest of the royals.

    "I told you we should have stopped," he hears Yunho chastise you as he approaches, grabbing the bag of your possessions. They made it painfully clear when someone else tried to carry your things at an early stop in a city — don't do that.

    "I'm fine, really, Lord Jeong," your rebuttal is dulled by the way you cling to Wooyoung for support.

   "Mhm," Hongjoong manages to make his hum the most sarcastic noise on the face of the planet, and smirks as you throw a measly glare his way.

    "You should have a warm bath to soothe your hips-"

     "They're ready for you, My Lords," the boy Hongjoong had sent was already back, panting as he bows.

    "You're fast," Hongjoong smiles, patting his shoulder as he passes, "good job, kid."

    As Wooyoung helps you towards the open doors, the now smiling boy bows once again. When you bow back weakly; the healer yanks you back up. Before you have the chance to question him, the sounds of the castle overwhelm you. 

    It's bustling with life, or rather with undeath, at the return of the councilmen and the quick spreading information that they have come back with their soulmate.

    People are running around, bowing and reuniting and talking amongst themselves. While you feel a lot of eyes on you, wherever you look the person is always quickly looking down and bending at their waist as you pass with Wooyoung on one side of you and Yunho on the other.

    You try to take in everything going on around you, you glance at all of the grandeur with awe in your eyes that makes the Vampires smile. They know you've never left your village before they arrived and effectively stole you away; and they've taken great pleasure in showing you all kinds of things at every opportunity, every city that you passed through.

    "-had better be important." Someone's sleepy grumble breaks your inspection of the walls and their decorations as Hongjoong throws open a door.

    "Family!" He smiles brightly, earning another groan.

    "How can you possibly be so energetic after such a journey?"

    Wooyoung helps you up the small step into the room, and the idle chatter stops. When Yunho closes the door to the room behind you, it cuts off the lively noise of the castle.

    The room must be a meeting area. Almost all of the space is taken up by an enormous table, nine chairs around it.

    "Dear Goddess..." Your eyes flick to the man who spoke. He has hair that matches Yunho, a light blue. He feels... familiar. He's looking at you like he's looking past your skin, into your soul.

    Because he is.

   He barely even registers that you've grown up, that you look almost entirely different. Because your soul looks exactly the same even as the years have worn down the edges of it. "(Y/n)?"

    The others look between you.

  You hold onto Wooyoung's sleeve as your gut fills with unease, not enjoying their eyes on you one bit.

    "This is her." Hongjoong pulls back a chair and sits back with a wide smirk. "This is our soulmate."

    The room explodes with action.

    You're yanked from Wooyoung's side, into the arms of a buff man. "I knew it! I knew we would find you! Oh, you're so soft," he's nearly purring in your ear, holding you tightly as your feet hover above the ground.

    Two of them are asking a million questions at once, directed towards you and towards the trio that is responsible for finding you.

    The familiar man slaps his hands together and starts praying, thanking The Goddess in jumbled and hurried words.

    At the head of the table, the Vampire with pink hair lets his jaw drop. "...What?"

    The chaos continues, questions flying and making your head hurt even though you don't even try to answer them.

    "Quiet!" The pink haired man bellows, and everyone stills effectively immediately. The man with his arms around you tightens his grip.

    You've already made a guess, and it's proven right. This is the High King. You don't dare look at him after all of the rumors you've heard. It was frightening enough when some of the ones you've heard about the Lieutenant were proven right.

    Those about Lord Kim were almost harmless. Those about High King Park Seonghwa are anything but.

   "Let the girl down," he orders, and the man does so carefully. Yunho is there to steady you, leading your cowering form to the only empty seat beside his own.

    Across the table from Seonghwa, at the other end of the giant table. The distance doesn't provide much comfort when you know just how fast they can move.

    As you sit, Wooyoung speaks with a grin, "isn't she precious?" Hongjoong swears that there's stars in the younger man's eyes, and he can't blame him at all. 

    "Your name is (Y/n)?" Seonghwa ignores his words, looking at you closely and listening to your racing heartbeat.

     "Yes, My King." You whisper, digging your nails into the wooden armrests. You had imagined a thousand different ways this would go if the High King didn't approve of having you as a soulmate. It didn't matter how attached his loyal councilmen were to you if he didn't want you around.

    "It's her. It's her, I have no doubt-" Mingi's voice is cut off by the rushing wind as Seonghwa all but teleports to the other side of the table.

    You yelp as his face is suddenly in the crook of your neck. He sniffs deeply, and grabs onto the armrests next to your hands. You slam your eyes shut, forcing yourself to tilt your head back in submission. He lets out a pleased groan, inching closer.

   The rest watch on, the trio who's already experienced it sharing a smirk as they watch the eldest Vampires skin come in contact with yours.

    The tip of his nose touches your neck and his lips widen in a cheshire grin. A million sparks travel through your body from the contact point. "It is you."

   He leans back, licking his lips. They can all tell he wants to have a taste. The glint in his eyes is undeniable.

   But, much to their surprise, he doesn't. He's holding back. He never holds back.

   He's back in his seat, breathing deeply and swallowing before he speaks. "Might you explain what happened, Hongjoong?"

    As he does, you take a sneaking glance at each of the council. Every time, you're caught — but it doesn't stop you. Especially because they meet your gaze with bright smiles. The only one you don't look at is Seonghwa.

    "You've already been feeding on her?" Yeosang, you've learned, has a small pout as Wooyoung lets slip a comment about how good you taste; and the other two agree with breakneck speed.

     "Have you no self control?" San, ironically the one who grabbed you, slaps Wooyoung's arm.

    "No, no," Hongjoong shakes his hands, "the myths are true. A soulmates blood is... it's a drug. She's a drug. None of you would be able to resist either."

 

     Seonghwa tuts his tongue, "I find that hard to believe." No, he doesn't. Even just smelling your blood through your skin had his fingers itching to grab you and never let go.

    He looks to you. You don't meet his gaze even though he knows you can feel it. "Did they hurt you in their haste?"

    "No, My King."

    Yunho holds back a chuckle at your formality with the man. You were like that with him not too long ago.

   "I don't believe it, either. No body can make a Vampire lose control by their smell alone. Especially not any of us," Jongho takes a deep inhalation, trying to get a whiff.

    Mingi hasn't taken his eyes off of you the entire time. He's afraid that if he even blinks that he will wake up from this dream.

   "She can." Wooyoung stands quickly, turning and rummaging in a drawer. "Here." He's next to you, a needle in between his fingers.

You take it slowly, looking up at him with your brows pinched together in confusion. Then, it dawns on you. "Lord Jung, no-"

"Yes. Prove to them that The Goddess has crafted you just for us. Even the blood that pumps from your heart is created with our souls in mind."

You look to Hongjoong. He promised no harm would come to you, and this seemed like a surefire way to get yourself bitten. But he nods.

You feel like you've never been so exposed in your life.

   There's eight pairs of eyes on you, each of which belonging to a Vampire more frightening than the last one you look at.

    As you scan the royals slowly, your hand starts trembling. "Do- do I have to, My Lords?"

    "Yes," Yunho meets your gaze as you come back to him quickly after taking a peek at the High King. "It's okay ba." He's taken up your dialect in your two weeks together. It makes you slightly less nervous. "We won't let them get out of control."

You take a deep breath and look down at your hands. You pinch the needle tighter and bite your tongue as you prick your finger.

You know realistically that this is a horrid idea. But you seem to trust the three men enough to purposely make yourself bleed in a room full of bloodthirsty strangers.

The reaction is instant and intense, just as it was in the church. San is held back from literally climbing over the table by his belt. Yeosang is sucking in shaking breaths through his mouth, forcing himself to look away. Jongho, the youngest, is slammed back into his chair as he growls and fights against the Lieutenant. Mingi slaps a hand over his mouth, but his eyes still never leave you even as they morph into a crimson color that shows his desires. Wooyoung is smirking as he holds back Seonghwa by his shoulders.

"Please, please," Jongho pleads, meeting your shock widened eyes.

Is he... pleading with you?

"Just a lick," he pants, his red eyes filled with hunger and primal want, "just one?"

"We told you," Hongjoong giggles at the youngests pout, "she's nearly irresistible. Yunho," he nods to the taller man; and he gets the message.

"No!" San whines, a legitimate sorrow in his voice as Yunho leans over and licks the blood from the tip of your finger. He groans as he falls back into his chair defeated, Seonghwa and Jongho following suit.

The lot of them are breathing heavily, purposely to get the remaining scent of your blood or unintentionally from the ton of bloodlust they were just smacked with that was unlike anything they've ever experienced.

You cower in the chair, gulping past the lump in your throat. You were certain that something would go horribly wrong, but the trio held true to their promises to keep you fairly safe.

"I-" The King stutters, gripping the edge of the table with a vengeance. "I should... we should..."

"Take your time, Hwa," Hongjoong chuckles, reaching over and rubbing your arm gently —

"Welcome home, little one."

𖤐❝She is delicate compared to us.❞𖤐

       Seonghwa sits back on his throne slowly, grabbing the sides with trembling hands. He's deeply regretting not sinking his teeth into you, but he knows that this is a... delicate situation.

    When he had found the rest of his soulmates, they were already turned. And while their blood tasted good, it wasn't nearly as tempting as whatever divine curse you are.

    He's been waiting since the day he was born to finally be complete. Now he has all eight of his soulmates under the same roof and he let you be lead away to rest — to rest! He should be worshipping you right now! 

     "Ymanya!" He yells loudly, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

    "Yes, My King?" The elderly looking woman bows as she quickly runs to the throne.

    "I have a new job for you."

    "A job, King?"

    "Yes, a promotion. You are no longer the manager of the staff," he leans back and crosses his legs as he looks down at her. "This job is much more important, so I need you to listen closely, yes?"

     "Of course."

    "You will be the keeper of the Lady of Halazia."

   "The Lady?! You finally found her?" She clasps her hands together, tilting her head back in a short prayer.

     "Indeed, and she is a human," he thinks back to you, your image is haunting him, "she... she is delicate compared to us. I am placing her under your care. If harm is to befall her in any way when we are not present — any manner at all, I will hold you personally responsible. If she trips and falls, I will push you down the stairs. If she gets a cold, I will make you sleep outside. Should she go hungry, you will not even see a drop of blood for weeks. Do you understand where I am going with this?"

    "Yes, My King," she nods, "you needn't worry. I will take the utmost care of the Lady."

     "Good. You are my most capable servant, have I told you that before?" He half-smiles, watching her return the favor.

   "Many times, King."

    "Make sure that it keeps true. We have waited a long time for her, make her feel welcome. Have Gele accompany you, as well. She is good with humans."

   When she bows and turns to leave, he calls out before she can —

    "One more thing, Ymanya."

    "Yes, My King?"

    "Report back to me with what you learn about her. I want to know everything about our Lady."

𖤐❝Why else would The Goddess give you such a fate?❞𖤐

    Clang!

   "Gele, be careful."

You stir at the sound of footsteps around you; groaning as you nuzzle deeper into the pillow.

"Shh, don't wake the Lady." The soft voice whispers, "Lord Jeong will have our heads."

You sit up quickly as you realize where you are.

The chambers they provided you with are bigger than your entire home back in Caethnor.

After being led to them by a servant, who was (very threateningly) told to treat you with the utmost respect, you were left alone for a while.

You did not mind one single bit. It was the first time you had been alone for more than fifteen minutes in days.

You had sat down on edge the large bed and hummed. It was... very comfortable. Just to feel it, you thought as you laid back — and then you were promptly asleep.

By the look of the sun casting the startled strangers in the golden hour light, that had to have been a few hours ago.

The two women jump back, one of them clutching an empty bucket to her chest tightly, "ah!"

"What are you doing?" You scramble to your knife, gripping the handle when the older looking woman speaks.

"Oh, My Lady please! Please, don't fret! Lord Jeong sent us to fill you a bath," she explains quickly, raising her hands to show you that she means no harm.

You eye them frantically, the bucket and the fact that they seem dressed like the other servants you had seen corroborate with her words. You let go of the dagger on your boot and bow to them, "sorry, you startled me."

    When you come back up, they look completely in shock. "...Is something the matter?"

    "My Lady, you needn't bow to us," the younger girl with red hair shakes her head, "you are our superior."

    You rub your eye as you slide to the edge of the bed, "what?" You must still be foggy with sleep. 

    "Oh, Gele," the older woman turns to the redhead, "she was a common villager, she does not know these things! My apologies," she turns back to you, smiling sweetly, "this all must be very drastically different for you."

    "Uhm," you clear your throat. It's the first time someone has acknowledged that. "I suppose it is."

    "Here, come with me, child," she approaches slowly and waits for you to grasp her hand. "My name is Ymanya, this here is Gele." She explains softly as you take her wrinkled hand, standing to follow her. "We will be your maids."

    "I do not think I will need any maids..."

    "Then our jobs should be easy," Gele giggles lightly as she sets the bucket down, testing the temperature of the water in the tub that they had managed to fill without waking you.

    It was only separated from the rest of the chamber by a folding screen, and you almost wonder how they managed such a task before you remember how little sleep you had gotten on the journey.

    "Forgive my bluntness," Ymanya hums before going on, "but the Lords have hand picked us to care for you, and we must do our very best to please them. They have told us they will have nothing but perfection when it comes to your wellbeing." She can sense your hesitation about having someone doing things for you, and she places a hand on your shoulder, "you can think of us as your assistants. We are here to make your life easier, My Lady."

    You can't think of anything that you can't do on your own — but you know that it's probably a useless task to argue with the council. "Must you call me that if we will be so close?"

     "What else would we call you?" Gele asks as she settles on the stool in the area.

    "My name, I would think," you laugh a bit, watching Ymanya reach into a cabinet and retrieve a towel.

    "The Lords have told us to only refer-"

    "Well, what they don't know won't kill them." You sigh, "please, when it is just us; don't use that ridiculous title. I'm not a Lady." 

    It's their turn to be hesitant, thinking over whether or not this is a test. "You are," Ymanya nods, "you are The Lady of Halazia now. You're fated to the most powerful men in the realm, we should address you with respect."

    You shake your head, having a hard time grasping the concept. You are no Lady, you're just a nun from Caethnor. "Respect should be earned-"

    "My Lady (Y/n)," Gele perks up, gesturing towards you, "that might please both you and our Lords. Is that okay?"

    "I... well, I suppose that's better." You give her a smile, "I am okay with that. Should the Lords have a problem with it, I will try to tell them such."

    You jump when Ymanya's hand comes in contact with the back of your dress. "Actually!" You turn around quickly, "this is one task I would much rather do on my own." You ramble out quickly, shaking your head.

    "Of course, Lady (Y/n)," the grey haired woman smiles apologetically, bowing as she ushers the younger girl out, "but I bid you not tell the Lords. We promised Lord Jeong that we would help you. But, I know that it would probably be most uncomfortable for you."

    "It would," you gulp, making the woman chuckle. You're so tremendously different from her Lords. You were born a commoner but you were fated for royalty... it might be nice to have someone like you in the castle. "I will not tell if you don't."

   "A deal, then." She steps forward again and takes your hands, looking at you sincerely, "I hope to help you adjust to life here, Lady (Y/n). I know it is all a lot of change... but you seem like a strong girl. Why else would The Goddess give you such a fate?"

      "Thank you, Ymanya," you squeeze her hands gently. She has an aura of nurture around her, you don't even care that her hands are freezing cold. She's a warm person.

     "We have all waited a long time for you," she looks down, squeezing your hands back, "I am glad to have you join us, My Lady (Y/n)."

𖤐❝I should educate you quickly.❞𖤐

     "Lady (Y/n)?" Gele knocks on the wall next to the screen divider, hovering just outside of it.

    "Yes?" You hum from the water. You should thank them for working so fast to get the hot water in the tub, it feels wonderful on your sore muscles. It's a pleasant feeling to truly wash yourself, not just clean up in whatever body of water you could find. 

    "The Lords Choi have requested your presence in the dining hall after you are finished, should I tell them you accept?" 

    "Uhm..." You sit up in the water, pushing back your hair, "which ones is that, Gele?"

    "The Lords? The Choi brothers, San and Jongho."

     They were both having to be held back, if you recall correctly — and you do. You aren't entirely sure if you want to be alone with them-

    "My Lady, if I may..."

    "Yes, what it is?"

     "Lord Kim will also be in attendance, if that eases your anxieties. I know you traveled with him."

   

       It peeves you that it does, in fact, ease some of your worries. With a sigh of trepidation, you go against your want to just crawl back into the bed and tell her, "yes, tell them I will join them, please."

     "Right away, Lady (Y/n)." 

You hear the click-clack of her shoes and the soft closing of the door, waiting for it to clunk into place before you stand and carefully pull yourself out of the tub.

This place compared to everything you've ever known is like comparing night and day.

You've never known anything besides your little home, and here you are in chambers big enough to put your house inside of; with people calling you 'Lady' and luxuries that you didn't even think of when you thought of how royals might live.

As you dry yourself with the ridiculously soft fabric, you hear the door open again. Ymanya's voice follows, "yes, place them just over there on the bed. The Lady will go through them."

"Shall I take her measureme-"

"Not tonight, she has had rough travels. We will-"

"Ymanya?" You call softly, wrapping the fabric around you tightly at the sound of an unfamiliar man's voice.

"Yes, My Lady?" She responds quickly, shooing the man out of the room and closing the door behind him.

"Who was that?"

"The royal tailor, he has brought some gowns for you. Might I help you get dressed?" She stops just outside of the divider, remembering that you aren't just any Lady or Lord she's served. You aren't used to having people wait on you.

"Gowns? What about my clothes, where are they?" You peek your head out the side of the screen, jumping back when you come face to face with the elderly woman.

"Apologies," she bows a bit as she backs up, "they are being cleaned. And the Lords have had these dresses prepared for a long time, it would greatly please them if you wore one." She looks at you in a way that tells you it's probably a smart idea to start pleasing them; eyes flicking between you and the pile of clothing. "Would you like me to help you pick one?"

Begrudgingly, you step out from behind the privacy barrier and hold the fabric around you tightly. "I suppose so."

She goes through them as she hangs them up in the large wooden closet in the room. They all look like they'll fit you, maybe a few adjustments needed to be perfect — but that isn't what makes you hesitate to pick.

What gives you pause, is the fact that they are all so clearly made for a proper Lady. Supported bodices and flared sleeves and frills and lace corsets in the backs of most of them. Even the basic white shift and stockings you now had on were made of what feels like heaven against your skin.

"Please, My Lady," she sighs, "I know that you probably have never worn such gowns, but I fear the Lords will grow impatient."

You trill your lips as you look over them again. You certainly don't want to make them wait even longer, so you force yourself to choose. "This one."

You can't lie and say it isn't beautiful, because it is. The deep purple fabric has swirling flowers embroidered on the skirt, and the black bodice is meant to be tightened with the matching ribbon that weaves in the back of the torso. But it's meant to be worn by royalty, and you feel far from worthy.

She helps you slip the fabric over your head and smoothes out the skirt with a small smile, "have you ever had your hair done, Lady (Y/n)?" She asks as she comes behind you and begins tightening the built in corset.

   "Not since I was a child, no..."

    "Allow me to do it, come," she leads you quickly to the short chair by the vanity and sits you down. "A Lady should always have her hair done, that is one thing I must insist on." She jokes lightly, carefully combing through your hair.

    "Only because you insist." And only because it reminds you of a simpler time, when your mother would sit you in her lap and put intricate traditional braids in your hair. "May I ask you a question, Ymanya?"

    "Of course, My Lady. I will answer any questions you have."

    "Is there any traditions in Halazia that I should be aware of? I didn't have the best education on those kinds of things."

    "Oh, there is many. Too many to tell you them all now, I'm afraid. Perhaps you can ask the Lords to provide you a tutor — if you want, of course."

    You hum in response, fingers tracing the frill of lace on your sleeve. "Well, any that I should know tonight?"

    She thinks for a moment, her hands pausing as something comes to mind. "Well... perhaps one that I should warn you of."

    "Warn?" You look up to her, eyebrows raised.

   "It's not so much of a tradition as it is... as it is just something that happens. Just something the K-" The smell of your fear is growing as she speaks, and she figures she should stop lest the King have her head if he smells it as well. But you look so pure and... you remind her of someone. She wants you to have a fighting chance; not be smacked in the face with what the night has in store for you. "I'm sorry, My Lady, might I ask you somewhat of an improper question?"

    "Improper how...?"

   "Lady, forgive me, but are you a virgin?"

   "What?!" You squeal, eyes widened at such a sudden and personal question. "I- What kind-"

    "Lady (Y/n), please answer the question."

    You turn back around in the chair quickly. "I... I am."

    That changes just about everything. She needs to tell them, and fast. "Do you know... do you know how those things happen?"

    "Ymanya, please! This is much too scandalous to speak so freely of..."

    She sighs, going back to fixing your hair as she speaks, "in your village, perhaps. But in Halazia, we speak rather plainly about sex. The Lords are often seen kissing and," she clears her throat, "kissing among other things around the castle. It is not taboo here."

    "Why are you telling me this?" You ask shortly. You want this conversation to be over. Because you had just imagined Wooyoung and Yunho kissing each other, and it gave you the same heat in your body that you felt after they drank from you. You need to pray after conjuring such a sinful scene.

    "I would like to warn you, because I can tell you are pure of soul and of body... the Lords do not only have a strong craving for blood."

    You hesitate to ask, but you feel you must.

    "Meaning what exactly?"

    "Meaning; perhaps if you do not know what to expect, I should educate you quickly."

𖤐❝What else am I to do when your heart smells so fearful?❞𖤐

Your heart is pounding wildly, despite the fact that you have now been sitting down for a few minutes.

The large dining hall was empty, and that somehow made the situation worse. Now you had to sit in silence as you thought over everything that Ymanya told you as she finished your hair and led you to the room.

Wooyoung conveniently left out the fact that the Kings large appetite was not limited to blood when you spoke all those nights ago. Ymanya filled in that missing information with the fact that he had ravaged each of his soulmates the night he found them, and their sounds traveled through the whole castle.

And she was regretful to tell you that she expected no different in his treatment of you. She did, however, tell you that she would try to speak with the King and get him to be gentle. She had been serving the castle since before he was crowned, you had learned along with the barrage of information. He trusted her word and took her advice on things to do with staff and care of the estate.

"Your heart is about to beat out of your chest." Hongjoong's voice spooks you into jumping up from the chair. He's entered along with San and Jongho... and Seonghwa. If the King is here, Ymanya hasn't gotten to speak to him.

If it wasn't before, it certainly is now.

"Hey, what's the matter with you, little one?" He asks softly as he joins your side, carefully lowering you back into the seat. "Has something happened?"

"Uh," you shake your head, trembling, "no. No, My Lord, my apologies. I don't mean to worry you."

"What else am I to do when your heart smells so fearful?"

"Are you frightened of us?" San asks quietly as he takes a seat across from you. "Because you needn't be."

"I'm sorry, My Lords, I am just anxious..."

   "Hmm," Hongjoong pouts as he eyes you, "what for? Didn't I say I would take care of you?"

     "Yes, Lord, but-"

     "Then don't fret." He leans and pulls you forward gently, kissing your forehead. "You have no reason to be anxious. Let's enjoy a meal with our soulmates."

𖤐❝I promise myself to you.❞𖤐

     You had blissfully forgotten all of your worries as you spoke with the men, as you ate together.

    You had forgotten most of your fear of the man with pink hair who sat at the head of the table. He's still undeniably intimidating, even as he watches you and the brothers exchange stories with a small smile.

You had, that is, until the sound of hurried footsteps and a voice rang out. "High King!"

Ymanya is bowing repeatedly as she hurries into the room, and seeing her suddenly reminds you why you were freaking out when you sat down.

He doesn't even look away from you as he addresses her. "Is this important, Ymanya?"

"Yes, My King. It is most urgent. I deeply apologize for disturbing you, but I have-"

He looks towards her with a glare, and she stops her rambling. "Then, what is so important that you must barge in here?"

"I'm sorry, My King. Might I speak with you in the-"

"Speak here."

All of your eyes are on her now, and she meets your gaze. Yours isn't annoyed or curious like theirs. Yours is wide and nervous. You shake your head quickly.

Having your maid tell one man that you were a virgin so that he didn't hurt you was one thing. Having her speak it in front of four of them would make you want to disappear from embarrassment.

"Out with it, Ymanya."

"Don't," you manage to squeak as she opens your mouth. "Ymanya, don't."

She looks between the two of you. His gaze demanding and dark, yours scared and embarrassed.

San tilts his head as he leans forward, "Ymanya, you know better than to keep secrets from us."

"O-of course, my Lord, I-"

"Ymanya, please!" You grab Hongjoong's arm as you stand, gripping his sleeve as you look to him, "tell her to stop, Lord Kim. I beg."

"Enough of this!" Seonghwa shouts; slamming his hands on the table, sending you flying into Hongjoongs lap to cower. "Enough. There will be no more of this. If Ymanya knows something important enough to interrupt us, I will know what."

Hongjoong wraps his arms around your trembling figure, "Seonghwa, you are frightening her." He whispers in the tense silence.

"Perhaps you should just speak, Ymanya," Jongho says slowly, placing a hand on Seonghwa's shoulder to ground him.

"I-" She bows deeply, "I'm very sorry My Lady (Y/n). I must tell him. I do not wish for you to be harmed. Your embarrassment will pass."

"Why would I harm her?" He snarls, approaching her slowly. He towers over her, glaring down.

"My King," she looks away from you and towards the floor. "The Lady is a virgin. I bid you, please do be gentle with her... I know how you are with your soulmates, My King. I only wish for her soul to remain unharmed — for you not to taint your relationship. This is why I tell you."

It's silence for a long moment. Sill. Everyone unmoving. Your ears are ringing and hot as you feel the brothers looking at you.

"You may leave." Seonghwa says, his voice tense as he makes his way back to his seat. "Thank you, Ymanya."

"Of course, My King. Apologies for interrupting you, My Lords." She pauses at you, you look like you want to bolt; but Hongjoongs arms around you stop you from doing so. "Forgive me, My Lady."

"Leave now," Hongjoong nods to the doorway, pulling you closer to his chest.

Her footsteps hurry away just as fast as they came.

Silence. Stillness. The air charged with tension.

"Is this true?" Seonghwa speaks up, eyes back on you and unmoving once more. "You are a virgin?"

You nod, just barely.

"Speak, girl."

"Seonghwa, she's embarrassed, leave her be-" Jongho is cut off your yelp as you're suddenly pulled from Hongjoong's lap.

The King has you pressed to the wall by your shoulders, holding you against it as he looks into your very soul; his eyes red. "Speak."

"Yes." You whimper, looking away quickly.

"How is that possible?"

"Because she hasn't had sex yet, dumbass," Hongjoong joins his side, looking down at you with a small smirk.

"But you're so beautiful." He whispers, his eyebrows pushed together as he inspects you. "How did nobody take you yet?"

"It... it is not done in my village, My King. We wait for our soulmates..."

He bites his lip, taking a few deep breaths.

"Not at all?" San asks as he and Jongho join the elder Vampires in crowding you.

"Not even hand stuff?" Jongho looks, arguably, a little too eager — his previous ideal of letting you have space is gone.

"H-hand stuff?" You gulp, flinching when Seonghwa all but falls onto you. His head on your shoulder and his body pressed against you as he lets out a groan.

"You've never..." Hongjoong trails off, moving his head side to side as he thinks of the words, "touched anyone? A cock? A pussy, maybe?"

"Lord Kim!" You gasp, scandalized, "don't say such things! Of course I haven't touched-" You clear your throat, fidgeting against Seonghwa's weight. "No, I haven't. What is the great big deal? I'm already embarrassed, you needn't tease me."

"Oh, this isn't even close to teasing," San smirks, leaning against the wall next to you. "Wait until Wooyoung finds out, that will be teasing."

"You're going to tell everyone?" You pout, already knowing that, if they're making a big deal of this, the others certainly will as well.

"We have to, little one. Otherwise they might jump your bones before we can do the ceremony."

"Ceremony? What ceremony? I don't want to-"

"You must," Seonghwa growls from your neck, startling you, "we must. When a Vampire takes a virgin, it is different. It is not just simply sex. Because the veil of our souls is thinner, our souls will touch when I... when..." He pants, his hands grabbing your hips. "Oh, Goddess, give me strength..."

"We will wait until you are ready," Jongho quickly soothes any fear of being forced into a literal soul shaking ceremony, "otherwise, the bond between your souls will be tainted. And — we don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

   That's a little bit of hypocrisy when you're still pinned to the wall.

"It's that powerful?" You ask with wide eyes, fiddling with your sleeves. Talk about pressure. You had a friend who told you losing your virginity was scary, and your fear has been multiplied.

"Indeed, it is," Hongjoong reaches and strokes the back of Seonghwa's head from where it's still buried in your neck. "It's the greatest honor for a Vampire to take someone's virginity. That's why people always sacrifice virgins to us, but really we never care. We don't touch them, it's too intimate."

     "Please," Seonghwa whispers mumbled, his lips electrifying your skin, "promise yourself to me. I can make you feel so good when the day comes. I can show you pleasure that you never even dreamt of."

    Hongjoong and San share a smirk as they hear your heartbeat thudding faster and faster and faster.

    None of them were able to resist Seonghwa when they first came to the castle. Wooyoung was the fastest to cave; he let the older Vampire take him on the stairs, he was so fired up. Yeosang held out the longest, he was the shyest, but still he only held out a measly month and a half.

   Nobody can resist Seonghwa.

    Not even you. It's a mix of anticipation and fear which makes you speak —

   "I promise myself to you."

𖤐❝It aches in my bones.❞𖤐

     "This place truly never ends, does it?"

   You follow Gele the next morning, taking in every little detail as she slowly shows you around.

    "It is... expansive," she giggles, opening up yet another door that leads to yet another never ending hall. "This is the- oh, Lord Song." She bows quickly, drawing your attention towards the man.

   "My Lord." You bow as well, greeting the blue haired man.

    "Ah, what good timing! I was on my way to your chambers," he smiles at you as you rise, his eyes bright in the morning sun that filters through the large windows.

   "Really? What for, Lord?"

   "I feel as if we have much to discuss. Gele, if you'll leave us." The woman pauses, taking a look towards you. When he clears his throat, she's quick to disappear.

    "Come," he takes your hand and leads you back the way you came. The tingles make your fingers twitch, but you don't let go. "How are you finding your way so far, (Y/n)?"

    "Good, I suppose. Thank you, My Lor-"

   "You needn't be so formal with me. We know each other!" He throws another smile your way. "Wooyoung told me that you remember me. I'm glad."

    "Oh, yes," you nod lightly, "I remember... some. Mostly from my early teenage years."

    "I have always been there," he admits quickly as you enter the hall in which your chambers reside, "I tried to check on you at least once a day, even if I didn't show myself."

    "Seriously?" You ask jaw-dropped as he opens the door.

    "Indeed. How do you find your chambers?"

    His quick change of subject catches you off guard, "uhm... good! Very good, My Lor-"

   "Mingi." He corrects you quickly, hesitating to let go of your hand.

He looks around the room as if to inspect it. "I haven't been here in some years... not since I lost contact with you. I couldn't bare it."

     "Has this-" You hesitate, watching him closely as he takes a seat on the vanity stool.

   "Oh, go ahead! I'm sure you have many questions, and I will give you many answers."

   You lower yourself onto the end of the bed, looking around the large chambers. "Has this room always been for me?"

    "For a very long time." He nods, somewhat of a nostalgic look overcoming him. "After the first time you heard me, we had it renovated. We were sure that you could be joining us any day. We had no idea we would have to wait so long."

   "Oh..." You nod, not knowing exactly what to say to him. You feel a bit guilty for whatever reason.

    "I used to come here everyday and pray that The Goddess would keep you safe. But, after I could no longer find you, I must admit... I lost my faith for a while."

   "Might I ask," you start softly, "how did you manage to lose me? Lord Jung told me that you were veil walking, and I'm afraid I don't know much about that, but... it seems odd for it to just stop."

    "Oh, well, I am no walker. I'm just a seer, The Goddess blesses me with visions. After you were born, I felt it — well, we all felt it but I felt it. I felt your soul come into creation. And I begged The Goddess to show you to me, but... all I ever got was blurry images. I learned how to veil walk so that I could find you. Yunho tried, but his soul isn't strong enough for such powers."

    You listen to him closely as he continues. "Veil walking is always easier when you are presenting to a child. Their souls are more- more uhm... susceptible. I thought it would be different for us, because we're soulmates. But I think I lost you when you reached womanhood."

    You think back to the time. It was around your first blood that he no longer appeared to you. "Oh, yes. That must have been it. I was no longer a child..."

    "Must have been." He hums, tilting his head, "why do you ask? Seems an odd thing to be curious about with so much more going on."

    Why did you ask? You wonder to yourself for a moment before it suddenly dawns on you. "I do believe I missed you."

    His eyes widen ever so slightly, his heart starts beating a little faster. "You did?"

   "It's odd but-" you swallow, looking away, "you came to be a sort of comfort to me. Especially after my mother passed. I felt terribly alone... but you were always there. I could feel you even when you didn't speak. I started to think you were my guardian angel."

    There's a pause between you, and you look up to see tears forming in his eyes. "Did I say some-"

    "Might I give you that hug now?" His eyes are begging. His entire being wants to embrace you. To hold your body and not just hover over your soul like he was forced to do as he watched you grow up.

    "Yes." You say before you can think.

    "I have missed you, too." He tackles you onto the bed, his arms wrapped around you tightly and your arms quickly giving him the same treatment; albeit weaker.

"My soul craves you in a way that aches. It aches in my bones. When I could no longer see you, I was a mess — I could not sleep, I would not eat, I-" You lean your head onto his shoulder and he sighs softly, holding you closer.

     It feels so... right. Like you were made to embrace one another.

    "I am happy to see you again, Mingi."

𖤐❝You can handle one more glass, can't you?❞𖤐

    "Are you not eating, My King?" You ask as you note his lack of a plate. The others are all eating along side you.

    "Not yet," he grins lightly, standing to pour you some more wine. You've already had three glasses.

    "Oh, My King, I don't usually drink so much-"

    "Well, this is a celebration, isn't it?" He hums while filling your cup, "our first meal together as a completed soul. It's an occasion to drink." He sits back down, holding his cup to yours, "cheers."

    You take a breath as you clink your glass to his, "cheers." If they keep up this pace of refilling your wine every time you take a sip, you'll have to be carried back to your chambers. You would already have to be shown the way, no chance you could find your way back through all the twists and turns while your head was so light. 

     So light, in fact, that you fail to notice that the King doesn't even drink from his glass. You fail to notice his ever present gaze on you.

    He said he would wait for you to be ready for intimacy — he said no such thing about waiting to feed on you. He's a patient man, yes. But also one with an insatiable hunger.

    He has to have at least a sip of blood a day. Usually he doesn't care from who. But since he had smelled your blood, everything else tasted... off.

    He doesn't indulge much in food like the others, only things he liked when he was living. But even his favorite food made him sick. His body only wants you.

    "You'll have to teach me sometime," you bow to Yeosang with a slight slur in your voice, "archery is one thing I never did pick up."

    "But she can fish like nobodies business!" Wooyoung chuckles, leaning his head on your shoulder; similarly inebriated. For every glass you had drunk, he drunk about three. Vampires have fast metabolism, you suppose. "She spears them with a stick! How badass is that?"

    You laugh as you lean your head on his, and the sound of your joy has hearts beating all around the table. "I can teach you someday, if you like. I know something that My Lord doesn't," you giggle drunkenly.

    "I would like to learn," San pipes up with a smile, "I can teach you something in return! Woodworking, forgery, armory, sewing, you name it."

    "You do all of those?" You ask in awe, usually a worker might know one or two; but then, he has been around a long time. He has had time to master multiple skills.

    "Oh, yeah," Hongjoong throws his arm around the man, "Sannie is our jack of all trades." He smiles brightly, kissing his cheek.

    You've quickly gotten used to their public displays of affection, it was clear that they had no qualms in showing their love for one another.

    And it didn't bother you. You had thought that it might, being that even married couples didn't show much affection where you are from.

   "Yunho mi," you call to the man, "I have a question."

    "Ask away, (Y/n) mi," he smiles, leaning his head onto his hand.

    "How do you make the fire?"

   "The fire?" He smirks as he conjures a small flame at his finger tip.

    The look of your shock earns you a few laughs. "Yes! How?"

    "Magic," he shrugs nonchalantly, "I can do all sorts of things. I can show you, but I'm afraid it can't be taught. You'll have to stick to San and Yeosang for learning new things."

    "Oh, I would love to see," you smile, a sparkle in your eyes that has the man just about ready to show you every trick he knows right here and now.

    You lean back in your chair as a servant reaches for your plate, giving her the room to gather it. "Thank you." She pauses at your words, looking to the closest Lord; who happens to be Wooyoung because he's attached to your hip. He nods, giving her a stern look.

    "Of course, My Lady. You needn't thank me, 'tis my job." She says just above a whisper as she gathers the nearby plates.

"You're so cute," Wooyoung grins as he pulls you over to him and kisses your cheek.

Seonghwa stops the girl when she goes to collect your glass, "let her finish it."

"Of course, My King," she nods, gathering what else she can before leaving with one more glance spared towards you.

     Hongjoong leans forward, topping of your drink even as you gesture for him not to, "you don't need to bow to anyone besides us, you're the Lady of the castle."

    You hold back a groan as you look at the glass. You don't want to be rude. "Lord Kim, I'm should not drink anymore, perhaps someone else-"

"Drink, little one," he's next to you in a second, picking up your cup. "You can handle one more glass, can't you? For me~?"

Oh. Oh, that pesky heat in your skin is back.

"O-okay," you blink up at him, suddenly very still in your seat as he lifts the cup to your lips.

"Chug," he smirks as you take the glass to your lips, never leaving his gaze as you begin to drink.

"Chug, chug, chug," San and Wooyoung chant as you do just that. The others smile as they watch, Mingi whistling in an impressed manner as you keep up with the way Hongjoong tilts the glass.

A drop leaves the corner of your mouth and travels down your neck. Yeosang watches with wide eyes. "Excuse me." Is all he says before he disappears, a suspicious blush on his face.

You swallow the sweet wine quickly as he all but pours it down your throat, keeping your dazed eyes on his; taking in the way the corner of his lips curl up and expose his fangs.

As he moves the empty glass, you go to take a breath — only to be met with his lips on yours.

You squeal in surprise, your hands hesitating before finding purchase on his wrists as he cups your cheeks.

"Oh, he's going to eat her alive," Wooyoung's joke from beside you never reaches your ears.

Hongjoong rests his forehead on yours, taking in your heavy breaths. When you open your eyes, you find that his have turned red. "Let the King and I drink from you." He hums, cradling your heated cheek, "won't you, little one?"

"Yes..." You slur softly, holding his wrists tightly. "Please."

The others are beyond jealous now, but they let it go. Their time will come. They should have pieced together that they were making you drink so much so that you wouldn't feel as much effects of the blood loss that's to come. Sneaky bastards, taking advantage of your naive nature— why didn't they think of that?

   "Come, then," he giggles as he helps up your stumbling figure.

     His plan worked like a charm. After hearing how Seonghwa hadn't fed, he came up with it. He's very observant of you, he knows that even the littlest praise or affection leaves you dazed. That, paired with the ever flowing wine that would also help you start pumping more blood, made you putty in his hands.

    He felt a little bad, but what was he to do?

   You were afraid of Seonghwa, but he had to drink lest he wither away.

    And it's been days since he tasted you, he was starting to get restless.

    It's not their fault your blood is a drug to them.

𖤐❝HALAZIA❞𖤐

𖤐❝NEXT TIME❞𖤐

"I want you to teach me." You whisper as you look up to him. His eyes are still on the pages, but he isn't registering a single word — and you know it. "Please, My Lord. You said that you would teach me anything I wanted to know."

His nails are digging into the hard cover of the book, leaving crescent indentations. "And that-" He gulps, "that is something you want to learn?"

"Yes." You lean forward, tilting your head, "I trust you to teach me well."

Oh, you probably shouldn't. He's only one bat of your eyelashes away from ripping your dress off and saying 'fuck the ceremony.'

𖤐❝CURSE YOUR NAME❞𖤐

[lyn31]

I have two basic prompt i want to request, i hope you don't mind! Hehe

First one : a jealous zayne! remember when zayne rejected the flower bouquet for mc in the game? We need more of jealous zayne hohoho

Second one : a clingy sick MC and zayne taking care of her 😂 imagine her clinging to zayne like a koala when she's sick

Thank you! 💕

Dw, I don't mind! Although as you can see it take awhile 😂 And also this is just the sick prompt, the jealous prompt would be next because believe it or not, someone also req the same ahahahaha and I can't believe you both mention Dr. Carter that make me laugh out loud 🤣 I have opinion about him but I'll rant below instead, anyway! Hopefully this is what you think of! Let me know what you think! 👀💕

Here's the jealous prompt fic!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Sickness and In Health

Summary

While battling a fever, you find comfort in Zayne’s quiet care—and when the kids return home, your family’s love proves to be the best remedy of all.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Parenthood AU, sick/fever, domestic fluff, silly, banter, sweet!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You feel like crap.

Your head is heavy, your throat’s dry, and even cracking open your eyes feels like a battle you’re losing.

But then there’s a tug at your arm. Gentle at first—then more insistent, like he’s trying to wake you up without knowing how hard is too hard. Small fingers curling around your sleeve.

“Mom?”

Lucas. Your seven-year-old son, all soft cheeks and worried eyes. He looks more like Zayne by the day—same sharp jawline in miniature, same serious expression—but your eyes are stamped right into his face. Out of all three kids, not one of them looks much like you. Even your little girl took after your husband. You would complain, but you love him too much for it to even feel like it’s a bad thing.

“Dad says breakfast is ready,” Lucas says, hovering near the edge of the bed.

You blink slowly, trying to focus on him through the fog. You open your mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a rough cough.

Lucas’s eyes go wide. Then he spins on his heel and bolts, bare feet slapping against the floor in frantic, uneven rhythm.

“DAD! DAD!! MOM IS SICK! HELP!!”

You hear the patter of his frantic footsteps fading down the hall, and despite the cough still rattling in your chest, you manage a weak laugh. Yep. Definitely sick.

With effort, you shift onto your back, body aching and overheated, the sheets too much and not enough all at once. You touch your forehead. Warm. Not burning, but definitely feverish.

Then you see him.

Zayne is already walking in, calm and focused, a glass of water in one hand and the medicine box in the other. The kids trail after him like ducklings—wide-eyed, worried.

He kneels beside the bed, setting the box down carefully before reaching out to you.

“Love?” His cool hand presses to your forehead, then slides gently down to your cheek. “Do you want some water?”

You nod, too grateful for his touch to speak. His skin feels like relief—cool, steady, him.

He helps you sit up slowly, guiding the glass to your lips. You drink carefully, it scratches on the way down.

“Is Mom okay, Dad?” Serena’s voice drifts in from behind him, soft but tense. She’s standing stiffly, arms crossed tight over her chest. At twelve, she’s already nearly your height, her posture straighter than yours on most days. You glance at her, and something tightens in your chest.

You remember when she barely reached your knees.

Your eyes start to blur, and you blink, but the tears come anyway—too full, too fast.

Three gasps fill the room in perfect unison.

Zayne’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide and searching.

He sets the glass aside and shifts closer, one hand never leaving your cheek, the other sliding down to wrap gently around your wrist, checking your pulse. Steady, comforting, close.

“Talk to me. Are you in pain? Headache? Muscle aches? Any chills?” He asks softly, his voice already threading into that calm, clinical cadence you’ve heard him use with patients, only warmer now, threaded with concern that’s deeply personal.

You shake your head slowly, a little sluggishly, and Zayne hums under his breath, clearly not satisfied with just that. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead again—this time, he lingers.

“You’re running a mild fever,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else, before he opens the box and takes out the thermometer.

He meets your eyes. “Open for me?”

You do, and as the thermometer beeps to life under your tongue, his hand finds yours and squeezes gently.

“You’re flushed, your throat’s dry, and you’re pale under it,” he mutters, slipping back into his clinical habit of talking through his observations. But then he sighs, softer now, and leans forward to kiss your forehead. “You should’ve woken me up, love.”

“It wasn’t this bad before,” you croak, voice barely there, and that earns you one of his looks—mild, patient, but definitely not buying it. “I’m just feeling a little bit emotional is all, not in pain.” You manage before coughing.

“I’m going to take care of everything today,” he says, quieter so only you can really hear it. “You just rest. No arguments.”

“Dad?” Lucas’s voice breaks through again.

“How much does it hurt? Why is Mom crying?” Callum picks up right where Lucas left off. The two of them, despite being twins, have their differences, but right now, Callum’s concerned tone matches his brother’s perfectly.

His expression mirrors Zayne’s so completely that it’s almost uncanny—right down to the way his arms fold tightly across his chest and his brows knit together. Lucas, beside him, grips the edge of the blanket like it might unravel without him.

Zayne glances back at them, his gaze softening as he takes in their wide eyes and concerned faces. He shifts just enough to stay close to you, but turns to face them fully, making sure they know he’s there for them, too.

“Mom is not in serious pain,” he says gently, voice slipping into the steady cadence of someone who knows how to manage both fear and facts. “It’s just a fever and some exhaustion. Her immune system is doing its job, which makes her feel pretty awful right now—but it’s nothing Mom won’t recover from.”

As Callum continues, “But Mom's crying,” Zayne’s hand shifts against yours—his thumb tracing slowly over your knuckles, steady and grounding. Callum presses, frowning harder. “Mom never cries unless Mom's really hurt.”

Zayne glances down at you again, brushing your hand lightly with his thumb. “Mom’s not crying from pain,” he explains. “Sometimes when we’re sick, especially when we’re tired or feverish, it’s easy for our emotions to spill out. That’s normal. You remember how you both cried when your noses were stuffed and you couldn’t sleep?”

Lucas immediately nods. “Yeah, that was the worst.”

“Exactly,” Zayne says with a faint smile. “Now, listen—Mom needs rest, and you three still need to get ready for school. I’m staying home today, so I’ll take care of everything. Go wash up, get dressed, and grab your backpacks.”

The twins hesitate before slowly backing out of the room. Serena lingers.

“You’re sure Mom will be okay?” she asks quietly.

Zayne nods, meeting her gaze. “I’m sure. I’ll call Aunt Rose and let her know your mom’s out sick today, and I’ll handle things at home.”

Serena looks at you one more time, her shoulders rise slightly—then drop again, like she’s letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Then she nods and follows her brothers out.

As the door clicks behind them, Zayne exhales softly and reaches for the medicine again. He measures out a dose and lifts it in your direction.

“Think you can take this for me?” he murmurs. “Then I’ll run the kids out the door and come back to check your temp again. You’re not going anywhere until this fever breaks.”

You manage a weak nod and take the medicine, grimacing slightly at the taste.

Zayne smiles faintly. “You did the hard part.” His lips brush your temple. “Rest, now.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your forehead feels strangely cold, like someone pressed a strip of cloud there. You reach up, fingers brushing the edge of a fever patch—cool gel anchored gently to your skin. Definitely Zayne’s doing. The scent of chamomile tea lingers in the air. You shift slightly at the sound of paper rustling.

He’s sitting beside the bed, a book in one hand, but his eyes are already on you.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, setting the book down and brushing your cheek.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “Better,” you croak.

He helps you sit up just enough to drink water from the glass he’s already prepared, one hand steady on your back. The moment the water hits your throat, it feels like the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

“That’s so much nicer,” you sigh, voice still gravelly but less strained.

He chuckles softly and sets the glass down. “You can sleep again if you want, it’s only been an hour,” he murmurs, reaching for the thermometer again. You shake your head and you let him place it under your tongue without protest, eyes flicking to the way he watches you, hand still curled around yours. Quiet, steady.

You know he’s worried.

The reading comes back lower, but his brow still furrows. “Better. Still not great.”

You do feel better. Not fully. But at least you’re not drowning anymore.

He starts to move—probably to get breakfast—but you tighten your grip on his hand.

That make him pauses. “I made you something. I’ll bring it here.”

“No,” you shake your head, stubbornness flaring. “Want to be with you.”

“You can barely move, love,” he says gently, rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. His voice is soft enough to coax you into reason, but the moment his skin brushes yours, your mind is made up.

“Then carry me,” you mutter, too tired to fight and too selfish to let go, reaching up like a sleepy child, palm open toward him.

He hesitates—but only for a moment. “Alright,” he murmurs, like he can’t help himself as well. He bends forward without another word and gathers you into his arms.

And the second you’re in his arms, your body melts into him. Legs around his waist, head on his shoulder, as if instinct takes over.

“You feel nice,” you mumble, eyes already closing again.

“That’s because you still have a fever, darling.”

“Nuh uh. You just always feel like this.”

He presses a kiss to your temple and walks out with you still wrapped around him.

In the kitchen, he sits down at the dining table with you still in his lap. One arm stays around your back, the other reaching for the tray of food he left out.

“Turn for a bit so you can eat.”

You shake your head, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. “I’ll eat like this.”

“You can’t even see the plate,” he murmurs, amused. Before his tone shifts. “Is it hard to hold your head?” he adds softly.

“Mmm, no.” you say, turning your body slowly with his help. You think that if you say yes to that he’s surely put you to bed again.

So now, you’re on his lap, but turning halfway to the table, still leaning against him. You open your mouth without saying anything, hoping that Zayne understand your signal. And he does. You barely open your mouth before he’s already feeding you.

The food tastes like damp cardboard. You frown at the spoon, suspicious, then take another bite just to be sure. Nope. Still awful.

You manage three more out of sheer determination before shaking your head with what power you have. Zayne finally let the spoon back into the bowl with a sigh of defeat. You slouch dramatically against his chest and mumble, “I’m moving to another country if I have to keep eating that.”

His hand pauses mid-stroke against your arm. “Will the cuisine abroad fix your taste buds?”

“I’ll find out,” you grumble, already halfway buried in his shirt. “You and the kids can come too. We’ll start a new life somewhere with soup that doesn’t taste like betrayal.”

He doesn’t bother arguing—just wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

Only then do you feel lighter. You even sat through a lukewarm shower without complaint—mostly because he was there to steady you the whole time, patient and quiet, guiding you through your medicine, your clothes, and now, your mountain of pillows.

The bedroom makes you grumble and glare at everything in sight, so now the living room has become the recovery zone. Couch, blankets, humidifier, and him.

You nudge your nose into the crook of his neck. “This spot feels better.”

“I rearranged your pillows three times,” he says lightly. “It should.”

You hum, pleased, and refuse to move an inch.

After a while, you open your eyes, still nestled against his shoulder. His attention is on his laptop, fingers occasionally tapping over the holographic display. The other hand moves gently in gentle strokes on your back.

Part of you knows you’re being unreasonable, so quietly, you murmur into his shirt. “Sorry... I know this is... a lot.”

“You’re sick,” he says simply. “It’s not a burden.”

He glances at you then, his smile a little softer than usual. It's a smile you’ve grown accustomed to, but that doesn’t make it any less special. If anything, it makes it more so.

You brush your nose against his. “A kiss for now, so you don’t end up sick too.”

He snorts, kissing you on the lips. “I think it’s a bit too late for that, darling.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The front door slides open with a low chime, followed by the scatter of sneakers hitting the entryway.

“Mom? Dad?” Serena’s voice is sharp, more alert than usual. “We’re home—”

Lucas comes into view first, dropping his backpack as his eyes land on you curled up in Zayne’s lap. Callum stops just behind him.

“...Is Mom okay?” Lucas asks immediately, already stepping closer.

You lift your head just barely, eyes bleary, body still heavy with fever. “Hey, sweethearts.”

You sound hoarse. Worse than you thought. You try to sit up, but Zayne gently tightens his arm around you.

“Mom's better than this morning,” he says calmly. “Fever’s dropping, had some food and water. Mom's just… resting right now.”

Serena eyes you suspiciously, walking closer like she’s checking the scene for herself. “You’re not pretending, right? You're really okay?”

“Mmhm,” you hum, burying your face in the slope of Zayne’s neck. “Promise. I’m just still kinda melty.”

“You look melted,” Callum says, blinking slowly.

Lucas bites his lip, clearly not convinced. “But you never lie around like this unless you're really sick.”

“That’s how I know it’s serious—you’re not even pretending to be strong,” Serena chimes in.

“I was strong,” you mumble. “I used all my strength to shower, brush my teeth, and yell at soup.”

If you could see Zayne’s face right now, you'd pinch him—but you'd also agree with him because well, he did all of that for you, and you’re still weak—still leaning against him.

But Serena does see Zayne’s expression, and you hear her sigh. “So... Mom’s back to normal.”

“Mom’s on her way,” Zayne corrects gently.

“I was worried,” Callum mumbles, his voice soft.

You lift your hand from under the blanket, beckoning them closer. Callum comes first, with Lucas following beside him. You stroke both their cheeks in turn, managing a small smile.

“I’m okay. Really. Just taking my recovery seriously this time.”

“You’re always the one yelling at us to rest when we’re sick,” Lucas says, his lips half-pouting. He leans in, pressing the back of his hand gently to your forehead the way you always do to them. “Still warm,” he mutters, almost to himself.

“I know,” you murmur. “And now I’m finally listening to myself.”

Serena tilts her head, studying the way Zayne’s holding you—like you might disappear if he lets go. And the way you don’t seem to care one bit that three pairs of eyes are watching you curled around their dad like a sleepy vine.

Her shoulders drop as if releasing a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

Suddenly, her arms shoot out, palms covering both twins' eyes, and guiding them slowly away from the couch.

“Okay. That’s enough heartwarming. Let’s go do homework before they start kissing again.”

“Hey—!” you protest weakly.

“We haven’t—” Zayne starts, ears immediately flushing red.

Lucas groans behind Serena’s hand. “But we’ve seen them do it.”

Callum nods. “And not just the usual peck. At the kitchen counter. They thought we were upstairs.”

Serena sighs dramatically. “This is why I tell you not to come downstairs after 9 p.m.”

You can’t help the breathy giggle that slips out, your fever-addled brain too soft and warm to feel properly embarrassed. “You little spies.”

“You’re loud,” Lucas mutters.

Zayne clears his throat. “Okay, enough commentary. Go finish your schoolwork.”

“But we’re making sure Mom's okay,” Callum argues.

“I’m great,” you insist, still half-draped across Zayne’s lap. “Your dad is a very good recovery couch.”

Serena eyes the both of you like she’s had enough—but there’s a flicker of fond amusement behind her deadpan stare. Like she’s exasperated and kind of proud at the same time.

“Yeah, okay, we’re leaving. I read that this kind of bonding is good for middle-aged marriages, so I support it.”

Zayne coughs, caught off-guard. “Middle-aged—”

“Ohhhhhh,” the twins chorus, clearly thrilled.

“Serena,” you wheeze, laughing as your forehead presses against Zayne’s neck. “You can’t say things like that while I’m sick.”

“I can and I will,” she says primly, already herding the twins down the hall. “Come on. Let’s give Mom and Dad some privacy.”

Lucas, resigned, groans, “But what if this make it worse?”

Callum shrugs. “I mean… if they’re happy, we’re good, right?”

Serena hums. “Exactly. Now shush. You still have math to suffer through.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

The last scene is the one that I immediately thought of when I read the prompt 😂 So I'm happy that I can fit it in :D Also down below is just me ranting lol Okay, this is just my opinion, but if we’re talking about jealous moments—yeah, I’m sorry, I am not counting that white rose situation. I’m too annoyed at that creep. Dr. Carter? Nope. Hard pass. I don’t know how it is elsewhere, but where I’m from, white roses are for funerals. It’s literally a mourning flower—meant for expressing condolences or honoring the deceased. I even checked for Chinese symbolism and it’s the same, so yeah, my rage is totally justified 😂 Like, why on earth would you give someone that and then drop a card basically saying, "Hope you become my patient!" If that’s your idea of flirting, sir—I have bad news for you 🖕🏻 And look, maybe I’m just too salty to remember clearly, but doesn’t Dr. Carter work for EVER too? That’s sus as hell. So I’ve always seen Zayne’s reaction in that scene as protectiveness, not jealousy. Now, if we really want to talk about a jealous moment? Neon Night. GOD, I love that card. I didn’t expect that from the cover at all, but UGH 😩🤭 Zayne subtly convincing MC to buy a “unique” brooch for her “friend” had me dying 🤣 He even says something like, “If they don’t like it, they don’t deserve it.” ICONIC. Hold on let me look it up, here it is, "When gifts are involved, it’s the thought that counts. If the other person doesn’t want to wear it simply because they don’t need to, you can end the relationship at that moment." "Oh… I hear doctors give out rejections by using the excuse of “not being allowed to accept gifts from patients."" "As you said, that is merely an excuse. If he lacks the courage to tell you the truth, then there is no need to be friends with someone so insincere." And the way MC gave it to him right away after this? Too funny! I can't even ahahahaha he even wore it in the end 🥹 To be fair, it’s not described as ugly or anything—but the brooch is definitely loud, like, very on-theme with the "Neon Night" vibe lol AND he actually did trying to help at first until MC start to say—or as he says "Oh, you speak so highly of him." 🤣 I still have so much to say about it but this is getting way too long, so I’ll stop here ahahahaha

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ BABY TALK, S.W

summary. Resting in bed with sam, you propose something that might actually make him the happiest man alive.

⭑.ᐟ why did I lowkey get baby fever from writing this because I know Sam as a dad is just…. Too hot. Please interact and send requests if u have any<3

word count. 692

supernatural masterlist/full masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

It's easy, getting lost in time when you're wrapped up with sam in bed, his head on your chest, his arms around your waist, just the sound of his light breathing and the sun breaking through the curtains, whether the sun is going up or down, you’re not exactly sure, it’s like time is stuck, the world is still.

One of Sam's hand is tracing patterns on your waist while your hands caress his hair. You're almost sweating because of how much heat radiates off of his body, but you wouldn't change a thing.

You wouldn't change the way he touches you, or the way his arms feel so strong around you, the way it makes you feel protected and safe, or even the way it makes your core grow hot at the proximity.

Sam's vulnerable, and you love that. You love that he can cry, that he doesn't have any of that toxic masculinity that his dad try to teach him when he was younger. You love how close he is to his emotions and that he knows how important it is to let them out, and to let you in.

Sam's cried in your arms before, just like you have in his. You don't talk about those moments, because even with how in touch he is with his emotions, he's still a man. He still gets embarrassed, so you know it's better not to mention it.

If he does mention it, you listen.

You listen because you love him, and because you know that he needs you to hear him. He needs to know someone in this world other than his brother understands him.

You know that Sam's not asleep, because his hand is still tracing patterns, his breath still sounds like he's at peace and like he'd rather be here with you than anywhere else right now.

'Do you ever think about kids?' You break the silence.

Sam's head perks up, his hands moving up to your arms.

'Of course I do. I thought you didn't?' He's surprised, but he doesn't show it. Something in him lights up, he hopes.

'I think I might've changed my mind.' Your hand is still in his hair, the other one on his cheek.

'What?' You're pretty sure you witness the light in his eyes come back. You hadn't seen that in awhile.

'I mean it. Think about it, we'd make pretty cute babies don't you think?'

Sam almost jumps at that. He's not resting on you anymore. His legs lay on each sides of your body, you've never seen him smile so big.

'You're actually serious?'

'Yes, baby. I think I'm ready. Our lives aren't as hectic or dangerous anymore, I just want us to be normal, you know?'

Sam doesn't answer. Or maybe he does, by kissing you. Maybe that kiss is worth a million words. Maybe this is a better answer than anything he could've given you.

He kisses you softly, then he kisses you harder.

He kisses you harder because he's never wanted you more than in this moment. Not because you just said you want kids with him, but because for the first time in his life, he's allowing himself to think about it fully. He knows he won't pressure you, that if he talks about it, you'll want to hear you. He won't be scared to mention it anymore, because now he knows you want to.

He's never wanted you this way, because now he knows that it's a new beginning. It doesn't matter how long it takes. There’s no pressure.

He's wanted to be normal his whole life, and until you came, he never thought he'd let himself lead a normal and safe life.

Now he knows he will. He knows he'll be with you, maybe with a little one, maybe a couple.

He's never been happier.

He's never felt such peace or calm.

Because now he knows he's done, for real.

He's done not being normal.

He's done hunting.

It's just you and him now.

And the future promises to be good to the both of you.

[writinginatree]

If He Were Better At This...

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Riorson!reader

Summary: Raising his little sister isn't easy for Xaden.

Warnings: Bittersweet angst, parentification, jealousy, mentions of apostasy trauma, Xaden low-key has anxiety. Set during Iron Flame.

@littleemissperfecttt requested: XADEN GETS JEALOUS OF Y/N AND BHODIS CLOSE RELATIONSHIP as y/n is more close to bhodi than she could ever be with xaden

(Sorry it took so long, I kinda struggled to come up with a scenario for this, but I hope you still like it!)

Landing in the valley above Aretia after a tiresome three-day mission, Xaden is greeted by the sight of you and Bodhi wrestling in the dirt. Your laughter is balm on his weary soul, but the feeling of peace it brings only lasts a second, quickly replaced by panicked irritation. You should not be up here — only riders and fliers are allowed to enter this valley, not civilians like you.

Sgaeyl gives an amused huff as she stalks off to find her mate. "We do not mind the little one's presence."

Well, that's good. At least he doesn't have to worry about his own damn dragon scorching you for trespassing.

But even if Sgaeyl thinks it's fine, the fact remains that you shouldn't be in the valley. If you keep getting away with ignoring all the rules just because Xaden is your brother, there will be trouble eventually. The fliers already feel underprivileged; if they get the idea Xaden is favoring his own people, the dissent will grow until the situation escalates completely.

Luckily, the group of first-years practicing lesser magics nearby doesn't seem to be paying the two of you any mind. Then again, maybe it's just that they already lost interest. You could have been here for hours already for all he knows — it's even possible that this isn't the first time Bodhi brought you into the valley. Xaden is all too aware that his cousin never has the heart to tell you off for following him around, even when he's going places you aren't supposed to go.

Xaden might wield shadows, but you practically are one, always trailing after Bodhi unless forcibly kept away. The trauma of the apostasy has left its marks on you, mentally as well as physically. Dad's execution, the long separation from Xaden and Bodhi that followed it, the lies drilled into you like brainwashing. It's really no wonder you don't want to be apart from Xaden and especially Bodhi now that you're finally reunited. And it's no surprise either that you cling to Bodhi more than him; he's been your favorite for as long as Xaden remembers, and, unlike Xaden, he's always here.

Xaden tries not to be bitter about it. He knows it doesn't mean you don't love him too, you're just closer with Bodhi.

But it's not fair. Xaden is your brother, not Bodhi. Yet he'll never be able to have as lighthearted a relationship with you as Bodhi does, because he's the one in charge. Not just of Aretia and, partly, the revolution, no, more importantly, he's in charge of you.

It's a walk on knife's edge, trying to balance between showing you the love you deserve and teaching you the strength and discipline you'll need to survive if the war isn't over by the time you're old enough to participate.

The thought nauseates Xaden every time it comes to his mind. He'll do anything so it never comes to that. They have to win, so you can grow up safe, without the fear and responsibility Xaden himself was burdened with when he was just a handful of years older than you are now. But there's no guarantee they can defeat the venin, no guarantee he'll be able to keep you safe, so, despise it as he might, he's doing his best to prepare you for the worst.

But gods, how he hates it.

You seem so young laughing there in the grass, and yet you've already been through so much — too much. He could watch you all day like that, innocent and carefree, the only indicators that you're not like other kids the rebellion relic crawling up your neck and the dark circles under your eyes. Xaden knows your nightmares are worse when you know he's away, but, as with so many things, the war leaves him no choice.

Walking over to where you're playing, still oblivious to Xaden's presence, he contemplates what to do. He doesn't want to spoil your moment of fun by getting mad about you being where you shouldn't. Even if the mere thought of you in the dragons' proximity sends cold fear through his body, you aren't in immediate danger. Maybe he can just convince you to walk down to the house with him, and give Bodhi an earful for bringing you into the valley later, when you won't have to hear. He can explain to you why it's not safe some other time.

But then your play fighting has you rolling much too close to Cuir for Xaden's liking, and instinct takes over. Your shadow springs to life, lifting you into the air by the back of your shirt.

"That's enough, now," Xaden says, aiming for a tone of mild authority like he remembers his father using. Xaden never quite gets it right. Much too frequently he speaks more harshly to you than intended, and other times, he overcorrects and loses all strictness. He can never seem to find the middle ground.

Sharp longing for his father bubbles up in his chest. Xaden shoves it away. Dad is gone, and can't help him. Raising you is on him and Bodhi now, unsuited to the task though they might be.

Xaden knows his cousin sees him as a role model, has always wanted to be like him, but it's times like this that Xaden wishes he were more like Bodhi. Softer. Kinder. Better at feelings. Of course there's no replacing the parents you lost, but if Xaden were better at this, maybe the hole they left in your life wouldn't still ache quite so badly. If he were better at this, maybe you and him could be closer. If he were better at this, maybe it would be him you go to when you have a nightmare, would be him you insist on sitting beside at meals.

Quickly, he shuts that train of thought down, too. It won't get him anywhere.

Despite his slightly too sharp tone, you don't even have the decency to look apologetic — no, you just beam at him. "Xaden! You're back!"

He nods, shadows setting you gently down on your feet.

It's hard to stay irritated when you're so obviously happy to see him, your smile a reminder that while you love Bodhi more, you do love Xaden too. Xaden has to remind himself to remain strict despite it.

He hates that he has to be the responsible one, ruining all your fun. That is exactly why you like Bodhi better.

Part of him would like nothing more than to join your roughhousing and forget about the war and all his problems for a little while, but the rest of him knows he can't afford to do that. What would that look like, the Duke of Aretia — even if only his fellow traitors view him as such — rolling around in the dirt? It's bad enough that Bodhi doesn't seem to care about his reputation, but Xaden can't afford not to care. And it's not just about appearances, either. It isn't safe for you to be this close to all these dragons and the practicing first-years with no proper control over their magic.

"Yeah, I'm back," he nods, accepting a brief hug before peering down at you with a raised brow. "What're you doing up here?"

"Bodhi was showing me some new moves. Do you wanna see?"

Regretfully, Xaden shakes his head. He would like to see what progress you've made with your combat training, but he doesn't have the time. The Assembly will want his report as soon as possible, but first, Xaden needs to talk to Bodhi and make sure he'll keep you out of the valley in the future.

"Maybe later. For now, I want you to go inside."

The words taste bitter on his tongue, the disappointment on your face cutting sharper than any blade he's ever felt. Belatedly, he realizes that sending you back to the house on your own when you know very well he's about to go inside too must make you feel like he doesn't want to be around you.

He fucking hates disappointing you, and yet, it seems to be all he ever does.

"Can't I—"

"No," he cuts your protests short, forcing himself to use what Violet calls the wingleader voice. He always feels bad when he uses it on you, but it's the only way to make you listen. "Get inside and wash up. Now. You know you're supposed to sit in on the Assembly meeting tonight, and you're not doing so with grass in your hair."

You grumble something unintelligible, but head for the path leading down to Riorson House, hopefully to do as he said.

Xaden knows you don't much like when he drags you along to meetings, bored by politics and strategy alike, but you need to learn. If anything happens to him, you might be in charge someday. You're Aretia's future, their insurance.

Once you've disappeared around the bend of the path, Xaden turns to glare at Bodhi, hissing, "What the fuck were you thinking bringing her up here?!"

His cousin, unflinching in the face of Xaden's temper, is quick to try and soothe him. "I know, I know. No civilians allowed. But Cuir said it's okay."

Xaden won't let himself be placated that easily, pointedly ignoring that Sgaeyl had said much the same thing. "Cuir doesn't speak for every dragon," he shoots back. "What if one of the others disagrees and attacks her?"

"Cuir would protect her. He hasn't let her out of his sight for a second, and neither have I."

"Oh? Aren't you supposed to be watching over the first-years?"

Xaden knows he's not being fair. Bodhi was just trying to brighten your day, to spend some quality time with you — something both of them don't get to do nearly enough. He would never consciously endanger you.

"I can do both." Bodhi sighs. "Look, I know she's supposed to stay in the fortress, but she's going crazy with boredom. This just seemed like a good opportunity to take her outside for a bit. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first, but I promise she wasn't in danger for even a second. You know I'd never let anything happen to her."

Xaden also sighs. "I know. I just— I don't like having her anywhere near the dragons."

He doesn't need to elaborate on why exactly the idea makes him so uneasy. Bodhi is just as aware as he is of what would have happened six years ago if Xaden hadn't made the deal that prevented all of them from sharing their parents' fate — execution by dragonfire, even for the youngest. A thought that will never stop haunting Xaden, no matter the scar on his back promising your safety.

"I know," Bodhi echos. "But we can trust our own dragons with her."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Alright. I guess she can come to the valley with you so long as she sticks to your side." Which he knows you will — you always do. "Just make sure she knows she's not allowed to enter it alone. Under no circumstances, ever."

Bodhi smiles. "Already told her that, but it probably won't hurt if you tell her again, too."

"I will," Xaden says, turning to follow you. Maybe he can catch up to you and walk the rest of the way to the house together.