#i wish i could be content in my loneliness and not be jealous of everyone around me. i wish i could accept that i will never be anybody's

[1800-fight-me]

The Phantom of the Red Keep

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Phantom of the Opera AU 

Rating: M (Mature)- as a general rule for my blog, minors please do not interact! 

Warnings: Gothic horror romance vibes, violence, very sensual scenes but nothing explicit, jealous and possessive aemond- this is not what we would consider a healthy relationship lol

Word count: About 8.5k

Synopsis: You are haunted by the phantom of the Red Keep and he is determined to make you his. 

Author’s note: This is not an exact retelling of Phantom of the Opera, it is based off of the vibes and loose plot, though I took a ton of liberties and of course the villain gets the happy ending in my version. This has been long awaited and its finally here and I am so excited!! I hope this lives up to the hype! Thank you so much @anepitomeofgrace for the mood board! 

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! 

Aemond Masterlist

You moved into the Red Keep when you were a young girl after your mother died and your father was given a position in the king’s small council. Everyone warned you of the ghosts that reside there. 

But you never were very afraid of ghosts. 

When a phantom voice began to speak to you through the walls at night, you were not afraid but rather enchanted. 

Your ghost had a beautiful voice, soft and low, as he whispered secrets to you from within the castle walls. 

Years passed and you told no one of your encounters with the phantom of the Red Keep, preferring instead to keep his existence to yourself. 

You used what he taught you to your advantage. People often questioned where and how you learned to navigate the political landscape of the capital city so well and how you seemed to know everything that happened within it, but you would not reveal your ghost to others. 

He was your watchful eye, your teacher, your companion in loneliness, your salvation. 

You often wondered if he was truly a ghost or if the rumors of the scarred and reclusive prince were true. 

But you never dared to ask, scared you would offend and lose him. 

You heard his voice even in your slumber, the soft lilt of his accent as he led you into dreams, dark and deep and often of him. 

He called your name, voice low and seductive, and you smiled. 

“Tell me of your day,” he ordered as you unfastened the bodice of your dress in preparation to retire for the night. 

You never worried if your phantom could see you in states of undress for a part of you would always belong to him, and besides, he was a ghost, or so you believed. 

“Lord Stark did in fact attempt to make a move like you warned me he would,” you said softly as you slipped the dress off your body. 

“Hm,” the unpleased hum echoed through the room. 

“I managed to dissuade his efforts,” you said softly. 

“Your father will not tolerate your insolence for much longer,” he mused. 

You sighed as you pulled on your nightgown. 

“I do not wish to marry.” The end of the sentence, ‘anyone but you’ went unspoken. 

For how do you confess to a ghost that you love him? 

The soft chuckle heard made your heart thump in your chest as you slipped beneath the sheets of your bed. 

“You will eventually be forced,” he said. 

“But you can still help me to delay the inevitable, yes?” 

“Of course, my sweet,” he promised. 

You sighed in contentment. 

“Will you tell me another story about dragons to help me sleep?” 

You drifted off to sleep with images of fire breathing dragons in your sleep and the warmth of your phantom’s voice in your ears. 

———————-

“How interesting,” you said and your bored tone betrayed your true feelings as Lord Greyjoy rambled on about the types of wood his ships were built from. 

You wished you could steal one of his ships and sail far away from him. 

You took another sip of your wine and withheld your sigh as the man, oblivious to your impatience, began speaking of sails and the type of material used to create them. 

You wondered how long you would have to suffer through this before you could escape to the library. 

The quiet refuge of books was your favorite place in the Red Keep. The fact that your phantom often visited you there only played a small part in why you loved it so. 

“Lord Lannister!” you said in surprise as he approached you and the dreadfully dull Lord sitting on the bench next to you. 

“Hello, my lady,” he said kindly and nodded to Lord Greyjoy. 

“I was wondering if I could perhaps steal your attentions for a short while,” the handsome man said. 

“Of course!” you said all too excitedly. 

He smirked. 

“I am sorry, Lord Greyjoy,” you said, your tone full of sincerity that you didn’t feel. 

“It is alright, I shall have to finish telling you about the wonders of my ships another time,” he said kindly. 

“Absolutely,” you agreed and took Lord Lannister’s hand. 

He led you down the path through the gardens and once you were certain you were no longer in hearing distance you looked up at him. 

At the twinkle of amusement you saw in his eye, you both began to laugh. 

“That man is such a bore,” he said and you giggled once more in agreement. 

“I hope it is alright that I came to rescue you from his clutches,” he said dramatically and teasingly. 

“It is more than alright,” you said with a smile. 

“My hero,” you teased and he smirked once again. 

You had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Lord Lannister as he walked you through the gardens and eventually deposited you in the library. 

He was very kind, if a bit arrogant, but you found that you did not mind his company and he respected you as a person which was much more than many of them men vying for your hand could offer. 

Unfortunately your afternoon did not get better as you anticipated, for you never heard the sound of your ghost’s voice as you read quietly in your secluded corner of the library. 

He did not visit you that night either. 

You tossed and turned and struggled to sleep without the comfort of his gentle voice. 

When sleep eventually took you, you dreamt of an angel with a halo of white hair who beckoned you to follow him into darkness. 

———————-

The next day Lord Lannister invited you to dine with him, which you accepted. 

You tried to be realistic. Your yearning for a man you were not sure even existed would not help you in this life. 

Your father would marry you to someone soon and at least the man before you was relatively kind and not positively tedious to spend time with. 

You even managed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at the arrogant statements he made from time to time so as to not bruise his ego. 

He was kind enough and you were prepared to settle, so when he moved to kiss you, you allowed him. 

It was a short, proper kiss and did not arouse any sort of feelings within you. 

But you smiled at him and thanked him for walking you to your rooms before you found solace within them. 

You sighed as the door shut behind you and you were once again alone. 

Your favorite voice whispered your name and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled. 

You were not alone. 

“You are back,” you said breathlessly. 

“I did not leave,” he said, his voice hard. 

“I… you did not speak to me last night,” you said. 

“You betrayed me,” he said and anger colored his tone. 

“No, I-“ you protested but were cut off by him. 

“No? What do you call it when you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at a man? What do you call it when you allow another man to kiss you?” 

His voice was low and dangerous, full of anger. It should have frightened you but instead you felt indignant. 

“It is not as if you kiss me! I do not even know if you are real or a figment of my imagination!” 

“Do I not feel real enough to you when you touch yourself to the sound of my voice?” he growled out. 

You gasped in shock. 

“Do not bother pretending, my sweet. You are not as subtle as you think you are,” he said. 

Tears of embarrassment pricked your eyes. 

“I am real, pretty girl. Do you not remember how all the suitors you despised seemed to suddenly disappear?” 

“That was you?” you asked in surprise. 

You sat heavily down at the end of your bed. 

“Of course, I protect what is mine. You are mine, are you not?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out, spellbound. 

“Good girl. You shall have your proof of my existence soon enough, but you must be patient. Can you do that for me?” 

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” you said hurriedly, excitedly. 

You could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Wonderful.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief that you were no longer the object of his temper, and instead back in his good graces. 

As you fell asleep that night you pondered on what he revealed to you in that conversation. You were giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting proof of your silent protector. 

———————-

“I wish to tell you something,” you said to Lord Lannister as he sat with you in the castle gardens. 

“Do tell,” he said and his eyes danced with amusement. 

“When my mother passed away she promised she would send me an angel to care for me and watch over me.” 

“What a beautiful promise,” he said, clearly placating you. 

You sighed. 

“Yes, and her words came true. There is an angel that protects me,” you said. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. 

“That must be a comforting thought,” he said and patted your hand as if you were a child. 

“No, not just a comforting thought, there is a presence that protects me from those that wish me harm,” you said urgently. 

“Is that why so many of your suitors have disappeared? I have heard rumors of you being cursed, but I have never been afraid of silly superstitions. I also heard ridiculous gossip of ghosts and recluse princes when I came here, there is no need to put stock in such things.” 

You furrowed your brow. 

“No, there is-“

“Lord Stark!” the Lannister man exclaimed as he saw his friend across the gardens. 

You sighed in frustration as you watched him stand and bound towards Lord Stark and embrace him. 

The two began speaking and you were quickly forgotten. 

The topic was never raised with him again. 

———————-

Your nerves were high as your lady’s maid dressed you for the masquerade ball. 

Feasts, parties, and balls were all commonplace during this time of year in which lords and ladies often courted and marriage alliances were made. 

Though, a masquerade ball was a first. You were excited. You found the whole idea rather romantic. 

“Are you certain about this dress?” you asked Reyna. 

“Of course, my lady! You look absolutely beautiful. The men will fall at your feet,” she said with a sweet smile. 

You really only cared about impressing your phantom and you hoped against hope that tonight would be the night you finally got the proof he spoke of. 

You smoothed the front of your emerald green dress as she brought you the delicate black lace mask. 

You pulled it on carefully and Reyna made a few small adjustments before she declared you perfect. 

You thanked her and with a grin you made your way towards the great hall. 

The moment you entered, you were enchanted. Musicians played ethereally beautiful songs and as you strode through the hall you were fascinated by people’s outfits and masks that bordered on costumes. 

Elaborate decorations made the room appear to sparkle and shimmer. 

A servant handed you a glass of wine and you sipped on it as you made your way through the bustling crowd. 

Soon, however, the dancing began and you smiled happily as you watched the men and women twirl. 

A man approached you and asked you to dance, you grinned as you accepted, and quickly determined him to be Lord Greyjoy. 

Though he was not your favorite lord, the music was quick paced, as were your steps and you were happy to join the merriment, no matter the company. It was not as if he could speak much to you anyhow as the dance was quick paced and required a switching of partners frequently. 

Man after man danced with you and your smile was as wide as the stretch of the sea. 

You felt a prickle on the back of your neck, like a heavy gaze was upon you, but as you looked around you could see nothing but strangers in masks. 

At the end of the last fast song you were spun by Lord Lannister and another man caught you. 

The crowd clapped as the song ended and as you caught your breath you looked up at the man who held you. 

You did not recognize the face of the handsome stranger who smirked down at you, so why was there something about him that felt so achingly familiar? 

He wore all black, with the intricate embellishments on the cloth a dark green, the exact shade as your dress. 

His hair, a shocking silvery white color, was straight and pulled half back as it cascaded down his back and across his chest. It was much longer than most men keep their hair, and it was beautiful. 

The left half of his face was completely covered with an intimidating black mask that appeared to have a sapphire within it rather than a hole for the eye to see through. 

The right side of his face was bare and you marveled at the handsomeness of the sharp planes of his nose, cheekbones, jaw, and chin. 

His visible eye was a startling yet otherworldly gorgeous violet color. 

His smirking lips were plush and naturally curved upwards. 

You had never seen such unique beauty in a man. 

You were certain your expression was wonderstruck as you stared up at him. 

The next song began, a much slower melody, and he held you close to his warm body as he swayed you both to the beat of it. 

“I do not believe we have met,” you said primly as you attempted to muster up your wits. 

He smiled at you before he spun you. 

He caught you and pressed your back to his front. As he leaned down, his hair fell across your shoulder and his lips grazed your ear. 

You shivered in response as your eyes fluttered closed. 

His large hands spanned much of your waist and you covered his hands with your own, wishing to keep him close. 

“Are you certain of that?” he whispered in your ear. 

Your spine went rod straight, the hairs on the back of your neck stood, and you sucked in a gasping breath as you recognized the voice of the man that held you. 

He chuckled darkly, that laugh that you often heard in your dreams.

“I am not certain of much of anything anymore,” you breathed out. 

“Not even of my promises?” he teased as one hand moved further down your waist and the other up high enough that his thumb grazed the bottom of your breasts. 

Your breath hitched even as your eyes drifted closed once more and your head fell back against his shoulder. 

“You are the only thing I believe in anymore,” you murmured. 

“Hm,” he hummed in satisfaction at your words. 

One hand gripped your waist and the other slipped up your arm, across your collar bones to rest gently around your throat, as if his hand were another necklace to adorn you. 

“You are most beautiful this night, my sweet,” he purred. 

You breathed in his warm masculine scent and wished to stay in his arms forever. 

He spun you back around to face him and he caught you with hands around the small of your waist and your hands found their place on his chest. 

“You…you are much more handsome than all my wildest dreams. Why would you hide this face from me?” 

You could not look away from his gaze, it was as if he had a power to trap you with him, though you would never desire to escape him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek and did not miss the way it made him suck in a breath, as if he were just as affected by you as you were by him. 

You did not know how many songs had passed since you were in his arms, but you never wanted the music to end for fear of no longer being pressed against him. 

The entire room melted away and there was only you and your phantom made flesh as he danced with you to music of your own making. 

“There are things you do not know of, that I have made efforts to protect you from,” he answered you finally. 

You furrowed your brow in confusion and as you looked away, you realized it was the first time you had looked away from his face since he took you into his arms. 

You hadn’t realized that multiple songs had come and go and still he held you. You hadn’t realized that most of the eyes in the room were on you, curiously watching you and the mysterious man. 

“I have proof now of your existence. Tell me everything, or do you not wish to make me yours?” you asked as you looked back at him. 

He pursed his lips as he stared deep into your soul. 

“Of course I wish to make you mine,” he breathed out. 

He sounded just as entranced by you as you were with him. 

You reached up and softly grazed your fingers against his sharp cheekbone. 

“Then show me all of you, my phantom,” you whispered as your fingers curled around the edge of his mask. 

So enraptured by your touch and your presence it took him a moment longer than it should have to react and you had nearly removed the mask from his face and saw a flash of a jagged scar before he yanked himself back from you. 

He pulled the mask from your hand and covered the side of his face once again as he stepped back, his chest heaving with desperate breaths. 

You stumbled backwards from the momentum of his sudden movements, and strong hands from behind caught you and with a glance back you realized it was Lord Lannister. 

Your breathing was also heavy as you turned back and gazed upon the object of your affections in shock. 

Regret flashed in his eye, but he turned and quicker than you could think of anything to say, he disappeared into the large crowd and was soon gone. 

He was gone as quickly as he appeared and your eyes stung at the near rejection. 

“Are you alright?” Lord Lannister asked you and you realized his hands were still around your shoulders where he had caught you. 

“Yes, quite,” you said and the shakiness in your voice did nothing to assure either of you of the statement’s truthfulness. 

As your attention once again found the room around you, you then heard the hisses of angry whispers of the people around you. 

“Monster.” 

“Did you see that horrid scar?” 

“Why would she let him touch her?” 

“Disgusting.” 

“His eye….” 

“Recluse prince.” 

“Aemond Targaryen,” one man said and you whipped your head around to him. 

“What did you say?” you demanded. 

“My lady, that must have been Aemond Targaryen, the recluse prince. Only the gods know what would have caused him to slither out from his hiding place,” the old man said worriedly. 

You huffed and turned to leave. 

“Perhaps I should accompany you to your room to ensure you arrive there safely,” Lord Lannister offered. 

You nodded absentmindedly and took his proffered arm. 

As you exited the hall you let out a sigh of relief to be away from such a crowd of hateful and discontented Lords and Ladies. 

“I fear you put yourself in danger by dancing with such a man, my lady,” Lord Lannister finally said after he gave you several moments of quiet to collect yourself. 

“He meant me no harm,” you said softly. 

“You know nothing of his intentions,” the man said. 

Finally you reached your door. 

“Thank you, Lord Lannister, I appreciate your help and concern,” you said in an attempt to dismiss him. 

He nodded, and he clearly understood your message. 

“Goodnight, my lady,” he said. 

“Goodnight, my lord,” you replied and turned and walked into your room. 

You shut the door securely behind you before you slid to the floor and released the tears you had been holding back.  

You could no longer withhold the torrent of mixed emotions you felt that so overwhelmed you. 

You heard nothing from your ghost that night and as you fell into a fitful sleep, nightmares plagued you. 

You dreamt of a demon that chased you and all you could see of it were two sapphire colored eyes that glowed in the depth of darkness you were lost in. 

———————-

Your phantom did not find you for the next two days and despite being surrounded by people often, most frequently suitors who wished to woo you, you found yourself incredibly lonely. 

Each night when you entered your room you called out for him but only silence greeted you. 

By the third day you resolved yourself to try and move on. It was easier said than done. 

Now that you had actually met the man that belonged to the voice you idolized, it was much harder to prevent yourself from loving him.

It was as if he was in your head, had burrowed himself in your heart, captured your soul and held it in the palm of his hands. 

How were you supposed to just let go? 

You pondered on all these things as you attempted to relax in the bath in your chambers. 

Your father was pressuring you to make a decision soon. You were lucky that he even allowed you a say in who you would marry, though you knew he was partial to Lord Lannister. Thankfully, he agreed with your assessment that Lord Greyjoy was an absolute bore. 

He was not present at the masquerade when you danced with your phantom, but he had surely heard the gossip by now. 

It would not bode well for you. 

You wished to hear your ghost’s voice so desperately you feared you were hallucinating the sound. 

But there it was again, your name, said with such gentleness and care. 

“Are you really there?” you asked hopefully. 

“Yes, my sweet,” he said after a moment too long of silence. 

You sighed in relief. 

“I have missed you,” you said. 

“Truthfully?” he asked and there was vulnerability in his voice. 

“Of course,” you said passionately. 

He did not reply and you grew concerned he did not believe you. 

You were suddenly grateful for the suds and bubbles in the bathtub for fear he could see you. It was something you had never been self conscious about before, but now that you had seen the handsome man himself and knew he was real, you were more worried about what he had seen. 

Even still, you said, “Please do not hide from me any longer, I wish to see you when you speak to me.” 

“Why would you wish to see a monster?” he asked harshly. 

Your eyes prickled with tears at his pain. 

“I do not believe people’s words that you are a monster. You, who has protected me at every turn, are a good man,” you said gently. 

The oversized portrait beside your bed creaked and opened as if it were a door. 

You gasped as your phantom stood in the darkened entryway. 

A mask still adorned half his face, though this time it was white and interestingly there was still a sapphire embedded in it where his eye should be. 

You sunk lower into the bath and gripped its edges as you stared back at him. 

“You cannot believe that about a creature of such darkness,” he said. 

“I do. I rather like the dark,” you said and a small smirk showed on his beautiful lips. 

“Come closer,” you said as you reached your hand out to him. 

He walked slowly over to you and knelt next to the bathtub. 

You placed your hand gently on the side of his face and his eye fluttered closed while he took a shaky breath. 

“Your name,” you said, your voice soft and tentative. “Is it Aemond as some have speculated?” 

He made a pleased sound low in his throat as he nuzzled his face into your hand. 

He ran his nose across your palm and the veins at your wrist. 

Your heartbeat spiked. 

“You have no idea how long I have yearned to hear my name fall from your perfect lips, my sweet,” he murmured. 

Your breathing was heavy as you looked at your phantom, your angel, your Aemond. 

“Aemond, I apologize for attempting to unmask you in front of a room full of people. Truthfully, I forgot we were not the only two people in the world,” you said gently as your fingers traced his cheek and lips and soaked in the warmth of his skin. 

“Hm,” he hummed in pleasure. 

“Will you bare yourself to me now?” you asked. 

You wanted to add that it was only fair as you were currently mostly bare in front of him. 

Though the bath was a milky color from the soaps and scents, and suds still covered the surface, you were certain his all knowing eye could see much of your glistening wet skin. 

His eye blinked open and he looked at you, his gaze raw and full of emotion. 

The sound of knuckles rapping at your door broke your focus from him. 

“My lady?” your lady’s maid called out. 

You looked across the room to your door. 

He quickly stood and disappeared behind the portrait door once again without another word, as if he truly were a ghost. 

You sighed in frustration before you called out, “Yes? Come in.” 

“My lady, I forgot to bring you your fresh bed sheets, I am so sorry! I will only be a moment,” she said as she rushed to your bed. 

“It is quite alright, Reyna,” you reassured as her anxieties often became too high. 

She smiled at you and quickly started her task. 

You sunk lower into the now cold bath and cursed your rotten luck. 

———————-

Your father ran out of patience and betrothed you to Lord Lannister. 

You sat at the celebratory feast and tried not to look too sullen. 

When the queen congratulated you, you flinched slightly, now that you knew it was her son you were so desperately in love with you felt even more guilty. 

You worried the news would break him. 

Even still, you did your best to be graceful and poised as many people offered you their excitement on your happy news. 

You didn’t mind Lord Lannister, truthfully, but he did not bewitch your very soul as Aemond Targaryen did. 

There was a commotion that caught your attention, a fire had started in the opposite end of the grand hall. 

You gasped and watched as the men rushed to put it out. 

A hand grasped your wrist and began to tug you backwards. 

Your eyes widened in surprise as your phantom pulled you into the nearby darkened hallway. 

A mask still covered half his face and his expression was hard. 

He pressed your back against the cold stone wall with the weight of his body against yours. 

Your breath sped and your heartbeat spiked. 

Not from fear, no, from the feel of the long planes of his warm body against yours. 

He placed a hand against the wall on either side of your head and caged you in. 

“Do you wish to marry him?” he asked. 

“No,” you breathed out, your focus again on his lips as he spoke. 

He leaned down so his lips grazed your ear and asked, “What do you desire?” 

You shivered. 

“You,” you practically moaned as your eyes closed. 

He hauled his body off yours and you whimpered softly at the loss of his warmth. 

He smirked. 

“Then wait for me, I shall come for you, my sweet. I promise,” he said and you quickly nodded in agreement. 

He turned his head to look back down the hallway at the great hall. 

His hair swished as he moved and you longed to run your fingers through the white silken strands. 

“They have most likely put out the fire by now. Go before you are missed,” he said. 

“Alright,” you said, and before you tore yourself away from him you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

He hummed in pleasure and you attempted to memorize the sound, beautiful as it was, just like everything about him. 

When you reentered the great hall, the chaos was settling and no one had noticed your brief absence, not even your betrothed. 

———————-

Most afternoons you could be found in your favorite secluded corner of the library. 

Unfortunately, your betrothed knew that and often interrupted your reading. 

Today however, you were blissfully alone as you reread your favorite book. 

Sunlight filtered through the nearby window and bathed you and your novel in a warm glow. 

A cup of tea and a little snack were long forgotten as the plot enraptured you and you curled up into a plush armchair. 

A whisper of your name slid through the contented air and alerted you to the presence of another. 

“Aemond?” you whispered back. 

“Come with me,” he crooned. 

You turned and saw him. He had revealed another secret hallway, this time hidden by a bookshelf. 

His beauty was otherworldly and you felt as if you were in a trance as you set your book down, stood, and walked towards him. 

You took his hand and allowed him to lead you into the dark and watched as he shut the bookshelf door behind you.  

He lifted a torch off the stone wall and held it before the both of you, though you suspected it was only for your benefit. 

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

The thought occurred to you that you should have asked before you followed him, but logic was never your strong suit when it came to decisions about your phantom. 

You could never resist his pull. 

“To show you more of myself,” he said. 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

You walked through winding corridors until he stopped at another portrait-door. Though, this time your view of it was from the inside. 

He opened it, stepped down himself, and then with hands on your waist, helped you navigate the large step down. 

Though, he stood so close that your body practically slid down the length of his as you did so. 

With your hands on his strong shoulders you stared at him. 

His gaze flickered down to your lips and for a moment, an excruciating wonderful moment, you thought he might kiss you. 

But he released you and took a step back, his breaths as rapid as your own. 

With him not right in front of you, you could see the room you stood in. 

It was dark, the dark curtains drawn completely so as to not allow any light within. 

Candelabras adorned the furniture to offer the light your eyes so desperately needed. 

It was also clearly the room of a prince, grand and ornately decorated. 

Black and emerald green silk covered the large canopy bed. 

The other decorations matched his chosen colors. 

You slipped from his hands and walked around the room, your fingers traced the surfaces as you took it all in. 

It was all so Aemond. But there were pieces of you as well. 

A vase full of your favorite flowers. Stacks of your favorite novels were on both his bedside table and his desk. They were mixed with books you did not recognize, ones that must be his favorites. 

Crumpled papers took up space on the desk, with your name scrawled at the top of the one on a stack of blank papers, as if he had been trying to write you a letter.

There was an easel with paint supplies in front of the window, finished paintings leaned against the wall, turned around so you could not see them. 

The painting drying on the easel, however, was of you. You gasped softly. 

It was a romantic view of you in the bath as you had been the other night, and there was such love and tenderness in your face as you looked at the viewer of the portrait, the painter of the portrait, truthfully. 

There was a halo of light around your body, every stretch of your skin that was visible had a brightness about it, the more intimate parts of your body covered by the water in the bath.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you realized this is how he viewed you. An angel, just the same as you perceived him. 

He was your angel of darkness and you were his angel of light. 

“Oh Aemond,” you breathed out. 

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that many of the completed paintings you could not see were of you as well. 

You knew the reality of what you saw, this was not just love, it was obsession. 

Logically, you should be scared, but you could not bring yourself to be anything but flattered. 

There was a mirror in the corner, but it was covered by black cloth as if he did not wish to see himself, your heart cracked at the thought.

He had been watching you warily as you explored his space and learned more about him. 

“I want you to know the reality of what you would be getting into if you choose me, my sweet. A life of darkness with someone most consider a monster,” he said as he leaned against the wall and looked down at the floor. 

You strode towards him and placed a hand on his cheek and led him to look at you. 

“That is your version of reality? In my reality I see a kindhearted man who cares for me deeply and is offering me a life of affection. I do not care for others' opinions and would like to help you heal from the hurt they have inflicted,” you said quietly and tenderly. 

He breathed out in surprise and brought you closer, so you were pressed against him. 

“You say such kind words but you have not seen all of me, you do not know why others fear me. There is more darkness to me than you know,” he said lowly, but still he moved his face closer and nudged his nose against yours. 

“Then show me,” you begged once again, “and let me accept you completely.” 

His lips were so close to yours that you could almost feel them. 

You ached for him, had ached for him for so long, that you lost yourself, your self control, and leaned up to brush your lips against his. 

But, he pulled back right before your lips were able to meet. 

You let out a shuddering breath, same as he did as he pulled his face back enough to look at you. 

He intertwined his fingers with yours and lifted your hand to the mask he wore. 

With a slight nod he gave you permission to remove it from his face but still said, “Are you certain? This would bring you past the point of no return.” 

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” you said fervently as you stared at him with your heart in your throat. 

He swallowed and dropped his hand from yours to let you finally take off the mask. 

You gently curled your fingers around the edges and his eye fluttered closed, another indication of his nervousness, as if he could not handle seeing your expression once you saw him. 

You slowly pulled it off and revealed the other half of his face. 

A long jagged scar stretched from above his eye down across his cheek. 

Instead of a left eye, there was a sapphire in place of where his eye should be. 

You realized you were mistaken before when you thought that the mask held the sapphire, it was in fact a replacement to the eye that was missing. 

Though the scar marred his skin, it did not take away from his handsomeness. You could understand how the scar and sapphire eye could intimidate others, but you could not understand how anyone could describe him as a monster. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured as you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb across the scar. 

His eye fluttered open and as he looked at you, his perfect lips parted in shock. You knew he felt that the disfigurement was a reflection of his soul and expected rejection. Though he had subjected himself to the potential rejection anyway, because of his feelings for you. 

“You cannot mean that,” he said and the words broke your heart. 

You kissed his cheek, his scar, right below the sapphire eye and he gasped softly. 

“My phantom, my protector, my Aemond,” you said as you trailed your lips across his cheek, across the length of the scar. 

“I absolutely mean it,” you said passionately and he groaned as he, at long last, pressed his lips to yours. 

His plush lips were soft as he pressed them firmly against yours. 

He made a low pleased hum as your lips moved against his and you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

It was not the sort of kiss that sparked a fiery passion, no, it was slower moving than that, deeper. The kind of kiss that changed the both of you intricately, completely, eternally. 

The kiss molted the love within you and him like lava and fuzed your souls together. 

When you pulled back and ended the kiss he said, “I love you, completely, my angel of light.” 

“And I love you, darkness and all,” you replied and kissed him once more. 

———————-

The day of your wedding to Lord Lannister had arrived and you were a bundle of nerves. 

Aemond had sworn to you that you would not have to go through with this wedding. He assured you that he would make you his and his alone. 

You believed him, you just did not realize that he would wait until the last minute to do so. 

Your lady’s maid Reyna cinched up your wedding gown as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 

Your expression was sullen and you felt as if you were being readied for your funeral. 

Aemond would intervene as he promised, right? 

You had tried to talk to your father, to make him understand where your feelings lay, what your heart desired, but he refused to listen. 

“You look beautiful, my lady,” Reyna said as she finished prepping you and stepped back to view her work. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. 

“What is wrong?” she asked as she took your hands. 

You shook your head and refused to let your eyes fill with tears. 

You must believe in your phantom’s promise, he had protected you at every turn and you had to believe him that he would do so now. 

“Lord Lannister seems kind,” Reyna said gently. 

You nodded. 

“Yes. Yes he does,” you agreed as you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. 

Your father arrived and escorted you to the sept. 

The sept was grand as always, and as it was sunset, lit completely with hundreds of candles. 

A large crowd of lords and ladies filled the room and watched you as you walked towards a future of shackles. 

Your heart plummeted as you saw Lord Lannister there waiting for you. 

He smiled at you as your father walked you towards him, escorted you towards a loveless life. You could not force yourself to smile back. Your breath was short and it felt as if there was a weight on your chest. Your legs shook as you walked and finally you stood before Lord Lannister and the septon. 

The Septon cleared his throat and the crowd’s murmurs and whispers hushed and it was suddenly all too quiet. 

You could hear the pounding of your own heart. 

The septon opened his mouth to speak, to begin the ceremony, when another booming voice filled the sept. 

“I object to this marriage. This woman is spoken for. She belongs to me,” the voice of your ghost echoed through the room, through your very soul. 

You gasped in relief. 

The sept doors blew open by an unexpected and terrifying gust of wind that blew out all the candles and thrust the grand room into darkness. 

There were gasps of horror and shock as well as screams in fear. 

You grinned. 

“This wedding is over,” the voice announced and you whipped your head around as you realized where the origin of the sound was. 

The phantom of the Red Keep stood behind the Septon. 

A fire suddenly lit behind him, illuminating him, and another round of gasps and screams began. 

Aemond stood, presence intense and intimidating, dressed all in black. He wore nothing to cover his scar and sapphire eye. 

Your body moved of its own accord and you managed to take one step towards him, when an arm gripped you around your waist and hauled you backwards. 

Lord Lannister shoved you behind him and pulled out his sword. 

He pointed it at Aemond. You lurched forward, but he held you back with his arm. 

Aemond quickly pulled out his own sword. 

The septon scrambled away. 

Guards began to stream into the sept, but the fire spread, as if controlled, and circled around the three of you, and kept everyone away. 

“You have no claim on this woman! She is my betrothed!” Lord Lannister yelled. 

Aemond smirked, a devilish sort of smile. 

“That is certainly not true, is it, my sweet? I have a strong claim on you, do I not?” Aemond asked you as he leaned to the side to meet your eyes around his enemy’s body. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, entranced by his presence. 

Lord Lannister whipped his head around to look at you in shock. 

“He is a monster. Let me save you from him. I am your chosen hero, remember?” he said fervently. 

You shook your head. 

“He is my protector, I tried to tell you this before. My heart belongs to him,” you replied. 

“No,” he said angrily and shook his head. 

“No,” he repeated himself, “you will not whore yourself out to this vile demon. You are my betrothed.” 

He attacked your love. You gasped as they crossed swords and the sound of clanging steel echoed. 

You stepped back, as close as you could get to the edge of the circle of fire without burning yourself, and did not know what to do. 

Others watched the fight through the fire, helpless to assist, and did nothing but spectate. 

The men fought and it was clear that despite Aemond’s missing eye, he was the superior skilled swordfighter. 

You felt powerless to help. The fight did not last long, for Aemond soon sliced a shallow cut across Lord Lannister’s chest and then disarmed him. 

He held the tip of his sword to his opponent’s throat as he breathed heavily and gritted his teeth. Hate gleamed in his one good eye and you knew your betrothed represented all the hate and suffering Aemond had endured since his eye was so savagely taken. 

“Stop,” you gasped. 

He turned his head to meet your gaze and the look in his eye softened. 

“You do not have to kill him,” you said, “just take me. Let us be together. Let us leave this place behind.” 

He pursed his lips, a war fought inside his mind, before he nodded and removed his sword from Lord Lannister’s throat even as he kicked the other sword away so it would be completely out of reach. 

You ran to him and threw yourself in his arms. 

He kept his sword pointed at your former betrothed, but hugged you back with his other arm. 

Lord Lannister held up his hands and nodded, conceding and admitting his defeat. 

Aemond turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I want it to be known here and now that this woman did choose me willingly. Though I know you will indeed ignore my words, there need be no monster hunt, she and I wish to leave peacefully,” Aemond announced. 

The crowd stared in shock as you pulled his face down for a passionate kiss. 

Your love raged like the fire that surrounded you. 

He was yours and you were his. 

“Take me,” you begged him as your lips broke apart. 

The last thing you saw was the uptilt of his lips into a smirk before the room was plunged into darkness and then there was only the sensation of falling. 

You splashed into deep water and strong hands pulled you up. 

“We must hurry,” your lover said as he helped you swim. 

You looked up and as the ceiling closed above you, you could see that the entire sept seemed to have lit up in flames once more. 

He led you to the edge of the canal and hauled you up out of the water. 

He lit a torch he found on the wall and you could finally see. 

“It will take them some time to put out the fire, but they will follow us as soon as they can,” Aemond said to you in a hushed and hurried tone as he helped you step into a small boat that floated upon the water. He handed you the torch and you held it as you took your seat and settled. 

He soon followed and took the oars and rowed as quickly and powerfully as he could, his strength evident in the action. 

He navigated the canals effectively and knew which turns to take in the winding and confusing darkness. 

You stared at him as he did so and admired your phantom in the flickering light. 

His hair was wet, his lips set in a hard and determined line, and the sapphire glimmered and gleamed. 

You loved him, you wanted him, you were joyously happy he had saved you from a life you despised. 

You smiled. 

His gaze flickered to yours and he raised an eyebrow at you. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“I love you,” you said quietly but strongly. 

He smiled. A real, full smile, not a smirk or a half smile, a real full smile in which his lips stretched and you could see his teeth. 

“And I love you, my sweet,” he eventually replied, the moment heavy with emotion. 

“Thank you, for protecting me, my guardian angel,” you whispered. 

He shook his head.

“Thank me when we are actually safe in our destination,” he said. 

“Where is our destination?” you asked. You did not truly care about the answer, anywhere safe with him was perfect to you. 

“There is an estate in the countryside owned by the Hightowers, my mother’s family, that has been gifted to us by my mother. Some sort of recompense for all I have endured from my father’s family, I suppose. We shall have to pretend to be Hightowers and it will be a simpler life than you are used to in King’s Landing, but it will be safe and I will protect you. I hope you find that suitable,” he said softly. 

“Of course,” you said, “a life with you is all I desire.”

He smiled once more and it was your favorite sight in all the world. 

“Good, I have arranged for a septon to be waiting there to wed us. If all goes well it will only be a few days' journey and then you will well and truly be my wife.”

You grinned and placed your hand on his knee as he continued to row. It took all your self control not to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until neither of you could breathe anymore. 

“I could not imagine anything more perfect, my love,” you replied.

The canals eventually deposited the two of you into the entrance of a river on the outskirts of the city. 

Aemond climbed out of the boat and quickly helped you do the same. 

Thankful for the cover of darkness, he snuck you to a stable where two horses awaited you both. 

He pulled clothes out of the packed saddle bags and handed you a bundle. 

“Can you help me?” you asked as you turned your back to him. 

You heard a shuddering breath. 

“Of course,” he said and began to unlace your wedding dress. He slowly pulled at the laces, and his fingers brushed your skin as he did so. You shivered, and you were not certain if it was from the cold air or desire for the ghost that stood behind you. 

You slipped out of it and turned back to face him. 

His gaze was dark and intense once again. 

Your heartbeat stuttered. 

Then you heard distant shouting, you were still being pursued. 

“We must hurry,” he urged. 

You swallowed your disappointment and nodded even as you began to remove the rest of your clothes. 

He walked to the other side of the horses, to hide you from his view, and allowed you to finish changing. 

You pulled on the new clothes, and realized he had picked out peasant clothes a man would wear, most likely to make you both as inconspicuous as possible. 

You pulled on the fresh underclothes, the trousers and boots, and then the loose white shirt. 

He rounded the horses, already fully changed with an eyepatch over his sapphire eye. 

Your breath caught as he knelt before you and began to tie the laces of your boots. 

You bit your lip as you watched him. 

His nimble fingers moved quickly as he laced both shoes then stood to his full height before you. 

He then laced up the front of your shirt, to hide your breasts, and his hands grazed them as he did so. 

Your breathing was heavy as you watched him. 

He nodded in satisfaction with his work then pulled two cloaks out of the saddle bags as well. 

He pulled his cloak on and then helped you with yours. 

Your hands caught his and you could not help yourself. 

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. 

He huffed in amusement before he pulled you in for a brief but firm kiss. 

“Aemond, please,” you begged as he pulled back. 

He gripped your waist and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I will make you mine and give you everything you desire, my love,” he promised, “but you must exercise patience. We need to hurry, our lives are still at stake.” 

You sighed and nodded. 

He pulled your hood over your head and then tied his hair back and did the same. 

With strong hands on your waist he helped you climb atop your horse and then mounted his own. 

With the click of his tongue, he urged his horse forward and you followed his lead. 

Soon, both your horses were galloping and you left the horror of King’s Landing far behind. 

You journeyed into the darkness, but felt assured that there was light at the end of your travels for your phantom was there with you, and you would be together, forever, as you both desired, as was right. 

You loved the man, the ghost, the so-called monster beside you. You loved your protector, the man who had maimed and killed for you, who guided you through the deepest darkness. 

He was your angel, your salvation, the rest of your life. 

He was yours and you were his, forever. 

All was finally right in the world.

[lady-ika]

oof.mp3

age 27 with one abusive relationship under my belt and plenty of other "im pretending we're talking but really i just wanna fuck" ones and ik some people have zilch nada of either and i should be content but jesus fucking christ

age 27 and i have a giant teddy bear from a thrift store that i have to cling onto to not let the demons take over and i honestly think i just need to have a full sobbing breakdown about this stupid fucking petty shit

loneliness won't kill me bc i have good great friends and they care about me and my family are assholes but at least theyre around and im just throwing a tantrum about not having a partner.

but i could get onto dating apps-

bro either i get people im definitely not interested in or people who just wanna hook up and im not interested in it. like sometimes i think about having my hookup era but im too anxious to even really consider beyond just teasing these guys and like yeah! im bi! i could go out on dates w girls but id rather not get hatecrimed to death by my family if they ever find out

idk i tell everyone else all day that theyre lovable and deserve the love they want and deserve but like ykno that doesnt apply to myself

like i have nothing to offer and im palatable to friends but romantic partners? nah. im jealous of my married and dating and engaged friends bc i eant to spend my life with someone who actually like. wants me romantically and friends are great but i need something. romantic. idk maybe im just a jealous bitch but i want to have someone that *looks* at me, yknow?

i am not worth a passing glance and my friends say im pretty but i know im not and i wish i looked the way i wanted bc then i would be and i wouldnt look like my mom

and nobody looks at me or notices me and i have to engineer shit to look pretty enough for a picture and i just want to look like one of the xiaohongshu girls bc then i could at least enjoy myself

i exist to be a support character to never have breakdowns and only listen and just be complacent with my hand in life but i wish i could do anything but be a depressed sack of shit and take naps all day or mindlessly scroll so i dont have to feel like this

and maybe this is my hell, that i have to date a cis dude or a passing trans dude if i dont want to get hatecrimed but im so intolerable that this is my punishment that the most hopeless romantic in my friendgroup really is the most hopeless. i just want someone who'll give up or trade off on our favourite character in a game or win me carnival game prizes or somehow always find a way to touch me and won't mind if i grab their hand or will tell about this one thing they like while i work on something or like. i mean i dont have an iphone but for some reason the facetiming while falling asleep hits somehow in my brain and idk.

i feel bad telling ym friend thats never dated that i hate being 2nd choice when she hasnt ever been one but i think theyre. equally devastating. because either way you're haunted w what could have been.

im always the second person after theyve already been in love with someone else or have someone currently or a passing moment of lust or an idle what if and im sick of it

i feel like a kid looking at god or whatever force might manage us like "ive tried to be good to deserve something good i can share and im so full of love but nobody wants to share it with me"

and god just points at my adult life like "but you've been too angry and broke yourself too much" so i stay angry and broken

and alone

[ff-imagines]

Yandere HC: Spicy Gluten

My take on a yandere Spicy Gluten. Just a heads up, yandere Gluten is…. Well, she’s not very nice.

Mature content, Minors dni.

The basics:

• ok she’s mean. Straight up she’s a meanie.

• she’s the type to really try her best to push you away.

• like, not in a “haha nooo Jason stoppp haha” kinda way in a “go away I legit hate you” way.

• if you’re an actual saint and still extend an olive branch for a friendship, she’s intrigued and impressed.

• still mean though.

• her liking to you starts as just an acceptance that you want to be in her life.

• eventually the thought process goes to “well, if they wanna stay with me so damn bad, I guess I’ll just make them one of my personal possessions.”

• the more time she spends with you, the more she gets a taste of what it’s like to be treated nicely… she’s keeping you. End of story.

• the whole reason she likes you so much is because she likes being needed, it’s nice to have a little human need her protection and her attention, it’s nice to coddle someone who depends on you.

• she does her best to degrade to a point where you need someone to build you back up- and luckily for you, that’s when she steps in with her silver tongue.

• a unique trait is that she sees you as her actual possession. A person, yes, but a possession none the less.

• she does not feel the typical “yandere obsession” that you’d expect, she just doesn’t like when peope fuck with what belongs to her.

• surprisingly she’s also extremely jealous. possibly even more surprisingly, she doesn’t ever blame that jealously on you. The other party gets her full punishment, while she whisks you home where she can worry over you in her own condescending way.

• god forbid the offending party touched you. If they are ever found it would be in pieces.

• it’s less of a trust in you as an assumption that you could never be stupid enough to think that would ever accomplish anything.

Do they kidnap?

• sorta. She isn’t above kidnapping, but she’d much rather you stay close to her according to your own wishes. It just kinda feeds her pride.

• if you start to fight against her she has no qualms taking you away from everyone else and keeping you in the Anti-Human League hideout- which means more of her friends can keep an eye on you.

• which means Boston lobster in gonna be your baby sitter. And he can be even meaner than she is, if you’re not careful.

• for your own interest, be careful lmao.

What are their rules?

• She has an extensive list of what she expects from you, but the list is mainly there just to wear you down.

• most of the rules are really weird, sometimes contradict, and most importantly- virtually impossible to achieve all of them daily.

• that’s the point though, she’s just looking for an excuse to punish you and get her point across.

• that point being, fall in line and do what she says.

• with time the list simply becomes be good, don’t fight against her, don’t run.

What are punishments like? Would they ever purposely hurt you? Would they regret it?

• yea like I said she’s fuckin mean.

• most of her punishments come in the form of degradation, or at least, harsher degradation than usual.

• the worst of punishments are really only reserved for the worst of behavior, like physically attacking her or trying to run.

• then it gets to physical punishments, she doesn’t carry a whip around just to be scary. She knows how to use it.

• she feels no remorse for giving you punishments. In her eyes you simply should have known better than to test her.

How do they react to escape attempts?

• …. Poorly.

• I fear for your kneecaps. Legitimately.

• lots of guilt tripping and very sharp words, and eventually she just… ignores you.

• no degradation, no more punishments, no attention.

• she waits for you to break out of loneliness and apologize on your own. She’ll feign like she’s thinking about whether or not to forgive you, but she always will. She likes you too much, unfortunately. (For her, it’s very fortunate for your situation lmao.)

Nsfw hc?

• oh boy

• she is the ultimate teaser/edger.

• she tends to really tie you tight, rile you up to a point of desperation, and then just… leave for a while.

• she really likes to drive the point home that you need her, for everything.

• she likes to inflict a little pain, but it’s not as extensive as you’d think.

• she prefers to save intense pain for actual punishments- speaking of which, she isn’t above giving painful sexual punishments.

• impact play, candle wax that’s just a little hotter than usual, and overstimulation to the point of actual pain are her go-to’s.

• wouldn’t reject knife play if it gets her point across.

• overstimulation is fairly common, but never to the… degree it’s given in punishments.

• she’s a dacryphilliac for sure.

• her ultimate kinks are that she loves to make you go brainless, and she loves to make you beg.

• adores getting you to point where you can’t even babble one coherent word and then demands you to beg her for more. It’s just so cute seeing how you sputter for a grasp on basic language.

• loves toys. whatever tool gets you to cry faster, she’s using it.

• she loves to ghost her fingertips and lips around your neck and shoulders to find all the little places where you’re most sensitive to attack with bite marks. The bruises she leaves are intense, she likes them to last a while.

What are the quiet moments like?

• quite nice, all things considered.

• as time wears on they happen more often too.

• as long as you behave, of course.

• she loves to feel your shock as she touches you kindly, giving a rare word of praise.

• even if she’s cold hearted and mean, the moments where she gets to build you back up and savor your need for gentle affection is what she really basks in.

Her skin always ran warm. Like holding onto a mug of lavender tea in the morning. You let your eyes fall closed as her hands came to brush a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face, perfectly relaxed as your head lays on her lap.

You breathe slowly, enjoying this moment of respite. Sighing deeply, you felt your conscious mind slipping away from you as Gluten ghosted her fingers down your side to rest at your waist, tracing little patterns into your side.

Peaceful. She thinks. So peaceful, comfortable. How had you let yourself ever get comfortable within her grasp? You don’t think even you know what had drawn you to the woman who loved to degrade you, to own and control you.

Or perhaps that is precisely what it was.

You’d been exceptionally good lately. Despite a voice in the back of her mind chastising her for this moment of softness, she couldn’t bring herself to punish you for finding comfort with her.

Whispers of venom lingered in her thoughts as she stroked your skin with her thumb. Humans leave. Humans die. Humans live to hurt you, hurt others, hurt other humans. The familiar image of a girl, a simple orphan looking to help those around her conjured within her mind. A familiar image of other humans taking the girl away from Gluten, of inflicting immeasurable pain, of the girl she knew fading away before her eyes.

Her arrival to your restaurant was unexpected, your acceptance of her even more so. She found herself even more aggravated by the notion that you didn’t hate her, that she couldn’t hate you for everything she tried.

The insults, the fighting, the many, many times she’s simply given you a cold shoulder. None of it worked. You always… tried. Always tried for her.

She’s remembered the first time she allowed you to come close to her, truly close. She’d found you outside, sat in the grass with your knees tucked to your chest, even from afar she could see the way you shook from the force of your sobs, through your obvious attempts to be silent.

She has no idea why she approached you, why she lowered herself to sit next to you in the disgusting mud and brought your head to rest on her chest. She hasn’t the slightest clue why she didn’t sneer and laugh at you for how much harder you cried as you clung to her, feeling an arm snake around you to pull you closer while the other hand brushed away the strays hairs that clung to your tear stained cheeks.

She should have laughed. Should have watched as you sniffled and cried at her feet, she should have made you cry even worse.

Something twinged in her chest as she felt her skin grow wet from your sobs. She didn’t know at the time who had made you upset, but she would. And they would never get the chance to make you upset again.

Another sigh left you as your mind finally slipped into a calm slumber. Looking down to your sleeping face, she traced her finger along your jaw, slipping a hand under your head to gently reposition your neck into a more natural angle.

You weren’t fading away. Not like the others. She wasn’t wrapped around your finger, no. You were wrapped around hers. She’d made sure that you’d needed this, needed the feeling of her skin. She’d made sure that when you thought of fear, when you thought of anger and despair, you thought of her. She’d made sure that when you thought of gentleness, when you thought of warmth and softness, you thought of her. Gluten had made sure that every thought and feeling you had relied on her. Living without her would never grace your mind again. And while she’d never tell you, living without you would never grace hers again either.

It's just such a nice feeling to be totally and utterly relied on, Gluten internally remarks to herself.

[stubbychaos]

Ori Kebiin and Saviin’ika

Chapter 8 of Saviin’ika

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

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Paz takes you to the covert after your long day, despite you not being accepted by everyone in the tribe yet. Though you are content to finally be away from a toxic environment, Paz wants his vengeance towards those who have hurt you.

Rating: M

Word Count: 13,000 (I kinda got carried away)

Warnings: Brief mentions of psychological abuse and manipulation, as well as the aftermath of the attempted sexual assault from last chapter. Again, there’s mentions of blood, but not nearly as graphic as the last chapter!

Translations will all be at the end since there’s so many this chapter. I separated the actual dialogue from the typical nicknames and such. The title, however, translates to “Big Blue and Little Violet” :)

You have no idea how you manage the strength to walk on your feet after the day you’ve had, but you think Paz’s hand firmly pressed to the small of your back gives you the motivation to be stronger.

Though the dread still lingers like a dark rain cloud over your frantic heart as Paz leads you to your home to grab a change of clothes, you’re certain that the Mandalorian would not let anything happen to you should your father be awake. His thumb moves in firm little circles against the thick material of his cape that’s shielding your body from any wandering eyes and even though you can’t get the memory of slaying the Trandoshan out of your mind, you feel slightly better now that your warrior had cleaned as much of the blood away from your skin as he possibly could.

Out of sight, but never out of mind, you resentfully realize as you slowly approach the worn down hut you’ve lived in for your entire life and find the thought of living anywhere else strange, but certainly not disheartening in the slightest. Paz gently urges you behind him as he leads you inside the building, his leather-clad fingers firmly wrapped around your wrist and you can’t help but to smile weakly at his diligence and insistence on keeping you safe from anymore danger.

Much to your relief, you hear your father’s snores from the other room, most likely blacked out on alcohol or his drug of choice and you hastily lead Paz into your tiny room, only letting go of his hand so you can sift through the wooden crate where you keep what little clothes and garments you own.

“Cyare,” Paz whispers the nickname, perhaps remembering that your abuser sleeps in the room down the hall; he makes sure to keep his voice down as he gathers some of your toiletries and carefully situates them in a small canvas bag, “Where we are going, it is deep underground--it is much colder--do you have anything warmer to wear?”

You blink and manage to find a large cable knit sweater that you haven’t worn in such a long time, along with a thicker pair of leggings and some clean undergarments; you freeze when the Mandalorian speaks again.

“And something to sleep in?”

Heat floods your cheeks and earlobes and you nervously move to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, growing even more embarrassed when you realize the strands are matted to your neck with blood, “Am I staying the night there?”

You find a thin-sleeved, satin night gown that falls a few inches above your knees and you slowly rise to turn and face Paz, noticing the tension in his shoulders as he stares at you through the safety of his visor. You’ve never once questioned his loyalty to the creed by asking what he looks like underneath the helmet, but you suddenly find yourself jealous that he is able to conceal his features upon feeling nervous or shy. He reaches out to gently stroke your jaw, helmet tilting to the side as you hold your clean clothes tightly to your chest; he is silent as he collects the fabric from your tight hold and places it in the canvas bag.

“You would not be turned away after the day you’ve had,” He reassures you, cupping his hand to the side of your neck, “I am hoping they will let you stay permanently once they meet you.”

Your heart swells and you nod a little, your heart pumping furiously in your chest at the thought of spending the night with him again, let alone the rest of your days.

“Thank you,” You fiddle nervously with your large sweater as he continues to stare at you, “I… I will change now.”

“Then I won’t look,” He hums, sounding slightly amused as he turns his back to you, “Unless you wish for me to see you, little nurse?”

An intense heat spreads throughout your face as you let his cape fall from your shoulders and you begin to remove your boots. You remember the way the Trandoshan’s grimy hands had found the hem of your dress and you drop your head in shame as you peel away your undergarments and replace them with fresh ones. You feel sick and ashamed that it had nearly gotten to the point where he had taken advantage of you and you want to tell Paz exactly what had happened, but the feeling of your attacker’s hands on your torso leaves you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You’re embarrassed.

“I fear you would not like what you would see.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet moves in a jolting gesture, though he makes sure not to completely turn his head towards you and your heart thrums frantically when you realize it must be out of respect for your own wishes. You’re hasty to cover your chest with a clean bralette and you feel as though your cheeks are on fire when you replace your shorts with fresh undergarments and thick leggings, all while keeping your eyes on the back of his helmet.

“You are beautiful, cyare,” Paz softly reminds you, his baritone as low and quiet as his modulator will allow him, “I don’t like seeing you bruised and hurt, but it does not take away from your beauty. I do not think I could go through all of your pain without any armor; it must be difficult to bare your scars for all to see.”

You think it to be the most heartfelt compliment he could give you--informing you that he believes your strength and endurance to be up to his standards--and you smile warmly at the back of his helmet.

“Okay,” You eventually murmur as you tug the large sweater over your head, the cozy fabric fitting you similarly to a short, loose dress, “I’m ready.”

The Mandalorian turns to face you just as you’re grabbing his cape that you had neatly placed on the foot of your bed; his helmet tilts to the side as he watches you hug the material close to your chest. Thinking he doesn’t need the warm fabric yet, you hold onto it tightly as you follow him out your room, tensing a little when you’re met with utter silence, rather than your father’s typical loud snores. Paz must notice it too, because you watch as his hand immediately moves to the blaster sheathed against his hip; your heart pounds wildly in your chest as the two of you make it up the two stairs leading out of the hut.

Before you even realize what’s going on, Paz immediately whips around and draws a blaster within a fraction of a second, carefully pushing you behind him; you’re confused, until you hear a familiar voice that you’re certain will forever haunt you, even if you never see him again.

“Where do you think you’re going, little one?” You tilt your head to the side so you can see your father staggering towards you and Paz, “You decide to fucking not show up to one of your shifts and thought I would be okay with it? Then you bring him here? After everything I told you? Are you really that fucking stupid or do I need to--?”

You snap before the Mandalorian does.

For the third time in the last twenty-four hours--you absolutely snap.

“I have had one of the longest, roughest days of my life, so don’t you dare make me feel bad for not showing up to work or bringing him here!” You step to the side and put yourself in front of Paz, though he still keeps his blaster pointed on the drunk man who poses no real threat to the warrior, “I have been working every day for you for the last decade and never once have you ever thanked me for the time I put in--for all that I have done for you and working for free! You never once thanked me for all the tears and blood I have shed for you at the expense of your own hands and I am exhausted.”

Your father--Maker, does he look stunned by your outburst--and you’re certain that if Paz wasn’t there, he would have struck you the moment you raised your voice, but his eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he regards you. You think of the Trandoshan and the bounty hunter and how both of them had caused you such rage, fear, and desperation and you suddenly find it easier to argue with your only living blood.

You don’t even notice the way Paz tenses behind you when your father staggers forward, nearly tripping over his own feet and you suddenly feel embarrassed for the kind of torment you have let this pathetic man inflict upon you. You’re shaking with the trauma from such a horrific day as you step a little closer to him, speaking through clenched teeth at the man who’s made your life a living hell for as long as you can remember.

After killing the Trandoshan, you think you’re not fazed by anything, let alone your father’s clumsy anger.

“You have put me through so much pain and so much agony--so much torture--Maker, do you have a heart at all? Do you even realize what you’ve done to me? How much you’ve scarred my body and my mind?!” You force yourself not to cry, thinking he doesn’t deserve a single tear from you when he’s stolen so many in your life, “I am supposed to be your daughter, not your slave, and I won’t let you treat me as such anymore!”

Your chest is heaving wildly as he simply stares at you in shock, probably not even aware you were capable of storing such hatred and fury in your tender heart.

"I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you," You seethe, speaking through clenched teeth as you watch the way your words sober him, his back straightening a little "I hope you feel a fraction of the same loneliness and pain you have made me feel after I leave this awful place; I hope it haunts you everyday until you finally die."

Your father’s eyes widen and you’re certain he is shocked at the courage you have somehow obtained within a single day, though it still does not stop him from continuing to berate you

“And what would you do when he grows tired of you?” He sneers, though you simply shake your head, remembering how your warrior had declared his love for you and you force yourself to remember the devotion in his deep baritone, “You think those monsters would actually take you in as one of their own? You think this savage could genuinely love someone like you? Someone so weak and useless? They’ll use you and simply throw you away, just like anyone else would.”

You hear Paz snarl behind you, no doubt shaking with rage and a desire for wrath against your father, but you offer your last living relative a weak smile and nod a little, thinking of everything your warrior has done for you in the last few months and the happiness he’s given you. Perhaps you’re not as naive as you once thought--now so used to the horrors of such a cruel planet--and you’re certain that if this huge warrior insists his love for you, he must not be lying.

“I am not weak nor useless and I now know that,” You insist fiercely, and even though your voice trembles, you feel the words deep down in your bones--in your soul--and you step closer to the man whose unfocused gaze is currently switching between you and Paz frantically, “I am far stronger than you have ever led me to believe and I will not let you tear down me, nor the only man who has ever built me up. Even if I am not accepted, I will find a way to make a life for myself because anywhere is better than this hell.”

His angry expression cracks as soon as he realizes he no longer has any control over your inhibitions or choices and you know what’s about to happen--the manipulative words he’s about to spew.

“Y-You can’t leave me!” He doesn’t sound angry, but more so frantic at the thought of no longer having control over you, and he pleadingly holds out his careless hands, “You are my only family I have left.”

Though you feel a twinge of pain in your heart at how distraught he suddenly sounds, you turn your head to peer at Paz over your shoulder, who now has his blaster lowered. His helmet tilts to the side a little when he sees the conflict etched on your features and you think he must be incredulous that you even have to think about this--choosing between him or your father--but he simply gives you a curt nod and you turn back to your father.

“You said it yourself--” You whisper, backing away from his stumbling form before he can reach you, “You have no daughter, nor do I have a father.”

As soon as you see the look of despair melt into something more intense, something you’re so acclimated with--that anger, that intense fury--you immediately know you’ve made the right choice. Feeling flustered and slightly overwhelmed, you hastily turn around and storm past the usually talkative Mandalorian that has grown deathly silent and still as his Beskar gaze follows your small form that’s still clutching his cape close to your chest.

“Don’t forget that promise, you useless bitch! I’ll make you both fucking suffer,” He spits, instantly making you freeze and though dread crawls up your spine, you slowly turn to find Paz charging towards the much smaller, more feeble man with great furiosity that you’ve never seen from him, “Fucking Manda--”

You watch with wide eyes as your warrior immediately wraps his fingers around your newly estranged father’s neck and you are quick to make your way towards the two men when Paz effortlessly shoves him up against the outside of the hut with enough force to crack the outside of the little building. Your father claws desperately at the hand that has him pinned to the building, his feet an inch or two off the ground and you freeze when you hear the anger and pain in Paz’s modulated voice.

“You are lucky the little nurse has a tender heart and doesn’t wish for me to end your sorry existence, because I would have gladly had your lifeless body at her feet the moment I first saw you mistreat her,” Paz easily inches him higher off the ground, not seeming all too worried about his comfort as he squeezes his hand tighter around the struggling man’s esophagus, “You have caused her enough pain to last a lifetime and I will not watch you hurt her anymore with your words or hands.”

Your father’s mouth is wide open as he gasps and flops wildly like a fish on land when Paz finally drops him and you can tell it’s taking everything out of him to not cause the older man further damage as he wheezes violently at the warrior’s feet. You think you should feel sorry for your father, but instead you feel embarrassed that you have let someone so pathetic and greedy push you around for such a long time.

“He’s going to get tired of you and leave, you ungrateful bitch!” The older man speaks through loud gasps for air, choking and heaving on his own spit, “Everyone always does, you know you’re nothing--”

You should stop Paz--you know you should stop him as he lifts his boot, only to send a mighty kick to your father’s ribs and you hear a loud crack that you are all too familiar with, though you don’t cringe or turn away from it.

You’re far too acquainted with the sound to be disgusted by it and you think it to be painfully ironic that he is now in a position that you’ve been in so many times because of him.

“Useless, huh? Have fun tending your own wounds without her help,” Paz scoffs, listening to the injured man wheeze frantically, biting back whimpers as he clutches his side, “You ever try anything with her or even think about coming for me, I’ll cut your hands off and let someone else in tribe deal with you, hu’tuun. They would not show you the same mercy that I have and I would not mind seeing what kind of pain they would show you.”

You watch with wide eyes as he slowly turns around, tight fists instantly unfurling as he sees your shocked expression, though he is quick to carefully grab your elbow and lead you away from the man who is still gasping for deep breaths of air. The bright glimmer of moonlight kissing his visor as he turns to peer down at you every now and then has you growing curious and slightly worried at the sharp, jittery motions.

“Paz, are you--?”

“I am sorry you had to see me like that,” He makes haste to apologize and you shake your head a little as he leads you further away from your broken home, “I do not want you to think of me as cruel, but the way he speaks to you and treats you… I wanted to kill him, cyare.”

“After today, I don’t think I could ever believe you to be cruel,” You whisper with a light shudder, feeling the way his fingertips immediately slide down the inside of your forearm before they’re weaving through the valleys of your fingers in a firm hold; you think of the Trandoshan and bounty hunter and shake your head again, “I… I have seen what cruel men are capable of and I would never think you to be like them.”

“When we get to the covert, will you tell me what happened to you today--what he did to you?” Paz sounds so restrained and full of anger and sadness as he thinks of someone he’s considered to be a brother hunting you down and hurting you so horrifically, “If it is too hard to speak of it, I won’t push you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and exhale deeply as he takes you further outside the village, “I do not know if I have the strength to talk about it yet.”

“Okay,” Paz nods sharply, even though you can tell that this is all killing him slowly and he so desperately wants to know what the hell happened, “Okay, cyare.”

You smile softly at him being so understanding of the delicate situation and tiredly press your cheek against his bicep as he leads you to the people that are supposedly excited for your arrival. You think Paz must be exaggerating about his tribe’s eagerness to meet you and there’s a sick feeling growing in your stomach as you think of their bounty hunter and how he was most likely one of the Mandalorians who didn’t want you at the covert.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a few minutes of silence as you both slowly trudge through the village, though you think he only walks slow for you and your injuries, “That couldn’t have been an easy thing for you to stand up to him like that.”

“I… I don’t really know how to feel,” You whisper, your fingers curling tightly around his as you try to gather your thoughts into one cohesive statement to sum up your feelings, “I am sad, but my chest feels lighter. I have never talked back to him like that, but I do not regret what I said.”

“That takes a lot of courage,” Paz consoles with a deep hum, giving your hand a gentle squeeze and as he tilts his helmet a little lower and to the side, you like to picture him smiling down at you--whatever his smile may look like, though you’re certain it must be a kind, warm one, “It takes strength to stand up to someone that has hurt and manipulated you that badly, cyare, and you should feel only pride for acting so bravely.”

You smile and nod a little, knowing that someday you will truly believe his words, but for now you simply remain silent and focus on the firm hold he has on your hand. You hesitate and tense up when he moves to lead you down a dark alleyway that seems to go on for a mile; it’s so dark that you can’t even see where it ends and you move to take a step backwards as you think of the Trandoshan.

“It’s okay,” Paz reassures you, seeming to notice and understand your tension, “It’s… It’s been a long day, I get it, but I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’ve got me, cyare--always.”

You tug your hand out of his and squeeze the crook of his elbow as he leads you into the darkness of the alleyway. Despite not being able to make out anything, you feel how unwavering and sure the warrior is as he easily strides down the alleyway and it’s not until he scoops a thick curtain to the side that he turns on the little flashlight attached to the side of his helmet. You’re surprised to find a small set of stairs that leads down into a dark tunnel and you let him guide the way, trusting him enough to know he’s taking you somewhere safe.

“Careful,” Paz says softly as you slowly make your way down the winding staircase that takes the two of you further underground, “I know how clumsy you can be--or what was it you said when I took you to the hot springs the first time? The only thing graceful about you are your hands?”

You huff and try to shrug off the flirty remark, shaking your head as you carefully trail behind him, "You are not as smooth as you think, Paz."

He turns his helmet to gaze at you, nearly blinding you with the flashlight, all while continuing to descend the staircase and you hear him chuckle, "You’re lucky I am wearing my gloves, I know how hot your ears and cheeks get when you get all shy around me, little nurse.”

“I am sunburned,” You inform him with a scoff as he turns to face forward upon meeting the bottom of the staircase; you unfurl his cape to wrap it around your shoulders as it begins to grow colder, “I think most of my skin is pretty warm right now.”

He hums and you think he’s tense as you wrap both hands around his bicep as you two venture further into the underground tunnels; you remember the heavy weight of the Trandoshan’s body draped over your weak one as the heat from harsh sun rays beat down on you for hours on end. He doesn’t know anything that’s happened to you in the last day and you’re not sure if you should tell him, somewhat fearing for the bounty hunter’s life at the thought of Paz’s anger upon finding out you had been forced to take a life.

That the Trandoshan had touched you--that he’d nearly taken off your dress.

You don’t even realize how hard you’re clinging onto Paz’s bicep, forcing yourself to remember that you hadn’t been violated in such an intense way and that you were currently safe with your Mandalorian.

“We are almost there,” Paz reassures you, though you think it only brings you more anxiety and fear as he calmly leads you to his tribe, not seeming fazed or nervous in the slightest, “You will be loved by them as a little sister, please do not worry. I will take care of the bounty hunter.”

You simply nod as you let him guide you through what feels like endless tunnels and turns and you wonder how he could possibly know his way through such an intense maze of dark stone. You think of all the times he’s made his way through the tunnels just to see you and your heart swells as you glance up at his scuffed up helmet with admiration, thinking that he must see something in you to make such a winding journey so many times.

“Stay behind me, please,” Paz gently orders, responding quietly to your wide-eyed expression after he nudges you behind his big frame, “Just for a minute.”

He turns a corner just as an unfamiliar voice speaks up and you instantly perk up at the sound of a small, innocent voice; they sound younger than you and you’re not sure why, but that brings you great comfort immediately.

“Norac bid nusujii, ori kebiin?” A high-pitched, feminine voice has you feeling curious and despite Paz’s words, you poke your head to gaze past his bicep. Instantly, a forest green helmet with that notorious t-shaped visor whips to the side to stare at you and the smaller Mandalorian is quick to stand up from where she had been perched on a stone ledge next to the large, round entrance leading into the covert. You blink at the scuffed up teal armor that the female Mandalorian dons and you think the sapphire color of her gauntlets to be beautiful and less intimidating compared to the bounty hunter’s armor.

“Cuyir ibic gar orikih baar'ur, ba’vodu Paz?”

You think she must be asking Paz a question by the incline of her tone and he immediately turns to find you gazing intensely at the guard; letting out with a crackly sigh, Paz gives her a single sharp nod, “‘Lek.”

She lets an amused hum slip past her modulator and steps a little closer, “Ni copad at haa'taylir kaysh.”

Paz turns a little to place a big hand on the small of your back, kindly urging you forward and you hear the colorful Mandalorian let out with a small chuckle when you speak quietly in a shy voice, “The colors of your armor are pretty--blue is one of my favorite colors.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

You immediately understand the meaning of her playful words when Paz offers her some sort of admonishment in his deep voice, speaking in his native tongue, “Gar liser't chayaikir kaysh guuror ibic.”

“Sorry, sorry,” The woman chuckles a little, helmet cocking to the side as she places a leather hand on her hip, “Thank you for the compliment, though I do not think I have ever heard someone refer to a Mandalorian as being pretty; most people would spit on us the first chance they got,” 

She still sounds amused as she props her sharp Beskar staff up against the stone wall, holding out a hand for you to shake; you smile weakly at the greeting and grasp her hand lightly, noticing her firm grip right away. She stands a few inches taller than you and even though she is probably the least intimidating Mandalorian you’ve met so far, you don’t doubt her strength.

“I do not think that those who would choose to spit on you would last very long.”

“Ni guuror kaysh,” The colorful Mandalorian giggles, her head tilting to the side as she peers down at you, “Cuyir gar orikih baar’ur ratiin ibic pel?”

“Elek,” Paz huffs a little and nods, sounding proud as he quickly answers her question, “Yes, ever since the day I first saw her.”

Your cheeks burn at what they could possibly be saying about you, though you don’t wish to cause any disrespect and politely continue to firmly shake the colorful Mandalorian’s hand as she giggles a little louder at his answer.

“I am Imalia,” She finally introduces herself and you’re surprised to actually hear excitement in her smooth, modulated voice as she continues to shake your hand; you’re even more surprised that she would so willingly give you her name, “Everyone calls me Ima though; I am one of the guards that protects the entrance this late at night since we’ve been having more and more close calls with outsiders lately.”

You blink as her leather-clad palm slips from yours and you nervously wring your fingers together, not knowing what to do with your own hands, “My name is--”

“Oh, we all know who you are, vod’ika,” She interrupts with another giggle and confusion fills you when you hear Paz let out with an exasperated sigh; your heart warms when you remember that he had told you ‘vod’ika’ meant little sister,  “Our heavy-infantry warrior hasn’t shut up about you since he first saw you--always rambling on about his ‘mesh’la saviin’ika’ and how pretty your flowers are and how kind you are and how he wants riduurok with you someday. We all thought he was making you up until he brought home your flowers one day.”

“Ori Kebiin bal Saviin’ika,” She tilts her head to the side, amused by her own words and you hear Paz groan from behind you, “How cute.”

You grow even shyer at her teasing voice, “What does... that mean? R-Riduurok?”

“Oh, y’know,” Ima says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, flippantly waving a gloved hand around, “When two people agree to--”

“It means Imalia is a teenager who likes to gossip too much and is far too nosy for her own good,” Paz quickly deflects, resting a large hand over the slope of your shoulder and you think he almost sounds stressed out and worried as the colorful Mandalorian shrugs halfheartedly, “Is the armorer at the forge, Mal?” 

The way he seems so comfortable speaking with the younger warrior immediately makes you smile softly and you wonder if he’s this way with all the younger Mandalorians.

“I need to speak with her--it’s urgent.”

Imalia tilts her head to the side and you feel small underneath her intimidating gaze, despite the fact that she’s apparently younger than you; she must be inspecting you closely and you suddenly wish you had the opportunity to take a shower before leaving your house. You can still feel all the dried blood matted to your scalp and crusted into your hairline and you’re certain Ima must see it as well.

“Tion'jor an te tal?” Ima questions in a much quieter tone and you flinch severely when her hand moves to touch one of your braids, though she is quick to pull her hand away, turning sharply to gaze up at Paz instead; her voice sounds much graver and sadder when she speaks again, “Vaii cuyir te sarad gar rucuyir cyau'kuyc at dinuir kaysh? Cuyir te baar'ur shupur'yc?”

“It’s a long story,” He says in Basic, something you’re grateful for as the colorful Mandalorian, slowly takes her seat back on the stone ledge, grabbing her long spear once more as Paz continues, “It’s all Djarin’s fault. He came after her because of the vulptex.”

“That damn bounty hunter--no wonder why he was so tense when he came back earlier,” Ima sighs, shaking her head as though this is a common occurrence within the tribe and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, “I’m surprised he’s even alive still; I’m starting to think he has only one brain cell left.”

“Not for much longer,” Paz huffs, fingers twitching against the thick fabric of your long sweater and you let him guide you through the large entrance into another tunnel, “The runt is dead the moment I see his sorry ass.”

The teenager doesn’t seem all the fazed by Paz’s foreboding words, watching as you two venture further into the enclave, “I don’t doubt it.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse at Ima’s beautiful green helmet, “It was nice meeting you, Ima.”

“You as well, saviin’ika,” You can hear the smile in her modulated voice, warm and syrupy sweet, and your heart melts at her next words, “I look forward to seeing more of you, rather than hearing it from ori kebiin’s annoying mouth.”

Despite the long day you’ve experienced and everything that’s happened with your father, you smile tiredly at her and face forward as Paz lets out with another annoyed sigh, grumbling something so low that you can’t make it out from underneath his helmet. 

He continues straight down the dim tunnel that is barely lit and your eyes widen as he leads you through another rounded entrance that has some sort of huge insignia welded to the top; you think it almost resembles a Mandalorian helmet with horns coming out the side and you make a mental note to ask Paz about it later.

Paz hums thoughtfully as he inspects his surroundings, looking for something--or someone--in particular; you take in your surroundings curiously, detaching yourself from the distracted Mandalorian to make your way over to a little workbench that seems to have discarded scraps of metal. Not wanting to be rude by touching someone else’s belongings, you simply observe all the scuffed and rusted Beskar, though something in particular catches your attention.

You force yourself not to reach out to touch the little pendant that resembles the one welded above the entrance of the forge, though something about the faded purple horns intrigue you more than you’d like to admit

“I thought we agreed not to take in your nurse until we got our bounty hunter’s vote,” A smooth, demure voice instantly startles you and you quickly turn around to come face to face with a Mandalorian who is slowly and surely entering the armory, her gaze fixated on you in an intense manner, “It is not like you to go against my word, Paz. Do you understand that you have put the tribe at risk?”

You eye the thick furs draped along her shoulders, along with the beautiful glimmer of her golden helmet; you think the richness of the gold contrasting against the deep maroon of the rest of her armor is stunning and immediately, you think she must be the leader of the covert. Though she lacks in height, just like you, she makes up for it with a powerful aura of quiet strength and leadership and you immediately admire her. 

Though you’re terribly nervous, you’ve never wanted to make such a good first impression with someone and you shakily speak up before Paz can, his helmet jolting to the side to gaze at you with what you’re certain is surprise.

It seems as though you’ve been doing that a lot lately--surprising everyone, including yourself.

“He wanted to wait as well,” You inform her, awkwardly skittering forward when she pulls out a chair for you to sit on, seeming to understand your exhaustion after a long day, “I… I was brought here because of the circumstances of today.”

“And what were the circumstances, little one?” She questions smoothly, her voice like rich velvet through her vocoder as she grabs a small metal mug from a shelf and a teapot that must already be filled with hot water; immediately, Paz starts to speak in an angered tone, but she is quick and calm to interrupt his hasty words as she pours hot water over a bundle of herbs, “I believe I asked your nurse, warrior, not you.”

“Thank you,” You whisper your gratitude when she makes her way back to you and kindly places a steaming mug filled with something that smells simultaneously sweet and spicy, “I haven’t had a warm drink in a while.”

“I know,” She informs you and your eyes widen in fear at the thought of Paz telling everyone in the covert about your father; anger fills you just for the tiniest moment before the armorer is squashing your worries like a bug beneath her boot, “I know only of what our heavy-infantry warrior has informed us about you, though he has spoken nothing of your personal life or family. It is unfortunate that you do not wear our helmet, little nurse, for it is quite easy to read the pain and suffering in your eyes. You may be younger than I, but you have lived a lifetime already, have you not?”

Your nostrils flare as you struggle to swallow the lump in your throat when you realize the wisdom this woman possesses, “I have felt enough pity for one lifetime as well, I do not wish to feel it anymore from myself or anyone else.”

She glances up at Paz, who has his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you closely, before her gaze is once again fixated on you taking a tentative sip of the flavorful tea; she cocks her head to the side, as if intrigued, and you hope that you are making a decent impression, “Very well. Tell me of the circumstances that have led you here today, little one.”

So, you do.

Paz pulls up a tiny chair that creaks underneath his weight and sits off to the side as you reluctantly relay the story of you and the bounty hunter--how you had willingly taken that blaster shot to save your vulptex, how you had been forced to cauterize your wound, how many times you tried to mention Paz’s name, though the hunter refused to listen. You think it’s taking everything out of Paz to not immediately go searching for his fellow Mandalorian, but he remains seated, his visor fixed on you and his fingers curled into tight fists atop his armored thighs. 

As soon as you mention the speeder and the barren lands, you see Paz straightening up, his breath hitching in his throat as you speak of the deal with the Trandoshan and how the bounty hunter hadn’t hesitated to trade you in for a pouch of credits.

How you had begged the hunter not to hand you over because the Trandoshan only held cruel intentions towards you.

Somehow, you manage not to cry the entire time, but as soon as you speak of the vibroblade Paz had given you--how you were barely able to keep a good grip on the handle because of how bloody your hand was--tears spring to your eyes. You squeeze the hot mug between your hands firmly, trying your hardest to take comfort in the warmth it brings your cold body.

Against your better judgment, you decide to leave the Trandoshan’s intentions as far away from the story as you possibly can, not wanting to inform Paz of how close he’d been to slipping his hands underneath your dress.

You know that would be the one detail of your story that would leave him completely unhinged.

You squeeze your eyes shut just as you maneuver around the painful topic, “Throat wounds are usually the most deadly and I… I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off of me and I had to take his life. I cannot stop thinking of the noises he made when I--and he was choking on his own blood and it got all over me and I never had to--”

“Ner cyare,” Paz’s voice sounds thick with emotion as you stare down at your lap in shame, not noticing the way the armorer is still gazing intensely at you, “I didn’t know you had to... Maker, that’s where all the blood came from?”

“You did what you must to survive in such a cruel place,” The armorer seems to have better words to say than Paz and you think he must be caught in an intense war of anger towards his brother or sadness because you had lost a piece of yourself, “Though I can only imagine the turmoil one so innocent would be going through after experiencing something so traumatic. Please, continue if you can.”

You’re not sure how you manage to speak with how shaky you’ve become, but surrounded by two powerful warriors, you want to be stronger, “I-I immediately went into shock because there was so much blood--Maker, there was so much blood--and I just froze and he fell forward on top of me. I was too weak at the moment to push him off and I passed out in the sun. When I woke up hours later, my skin was burning but I was able to get the Trandoshan off of me finally.”

You find it difficult to look at either one of them, so your gaze flickers up to the little horns on the armorer’s helmet as you take another sip of tea before continuing, “I… I passed out again; I don’t know why I was so tired, but when I woke up again, it was night time and the bounty hunter had come back for me and was taking Paz’s blade from my hand. He asked me who I got the weapon from and as soon as I said Paz, I could tell he regretted everything.”

The armorer speaks after Paz lets out an infuriated growl, standing up to his most intimidating size, though the female Mandalorian feels no sort of fear as she speaks only to you, “And do you truly feel as though our bounty hunter felt sorry for what he did to you?”

You sit up a little straighter and stare right into her visor, thinking hard about your response before answering out loud, though you can tell Paz is seething and vibrating with rage.

“I think he felt sorry for hurting someone who was precious to Paz, but not that I was protecting something I considered dear to me,” You inform her in an earnest, hushed tone, making her cock her helmet to the side a little, “I think he was just a man doing his job as a bounty hunter, but he was also cruel to me. When I tried to tell him that I knew Paz, he would make me be quiet and told me that whatever I had to say did not matter.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly brush away the tears at your lashes as you continue, “He almost made me believe the stories that my parents used to tell me of Mandalorians, but I know Paz enough to know the stories aren’t true. I’ve only known Imalia--Ima--for a few minutes, but she treated me kindly and I do not wish to believe that everyone in your tribe could be so cruel, especially when you and her have shown me respect.”

“And how have I shown you respect when all I’ve done is given you the opportunity to tell me your story, little one?”

“I think that is one of the kindest ways you can treat another--to allow them to speak up for themselves without judging them,” Warmth spreads through your cheeks and ears as you take another sip of your sweet, spicy tea and you gaze shyly at the armorer, “I know my voice shakes when I am scared or angry and that I cry more than I probably should, but you and Paz and even Ima have shown me more respect than anyone else I’ve met in the last decade. Even if I was not accepted, I am grateful to see that love and kindness has lived underneath this cruel village for so long.”

The armorer stares at you in an unwavering manner and you fear the worst when she slowly turns her helmet to gaze up at Paz, who’s still staring intently at you, and she almost sounds amused as she turns to you once again, “It seems as though our heavy-infantry warrior was correct when he informed us all that it is impossible to dislike you.”

“I only wish to treat others the same way I would like to be treated,” You smile at the thought of your grouchy Mandalorian giving you such high praise about you to his family and you curl your fingers against your knees, “I apologize that this is the way I was introduced to you--all bloody and still shaken up.”

Her head tilts to the side in a curious manner, “Our tribe’s bounty hunter was careless and hurt you, yet you are the one apologizing?”

“It was my fault for--”

“Do not feel sorry or at fault for this, cyare,” Paz insists and you finally look up at him as he speaks through clenched teeth, “Where is Djarin, ner alor? I will have him begging for forgiveness at her feet the second I see him--I want him to suffer for what he did to her!”

The armorer lets out with a tired sigh and she shakes her helmet a little as you timidly finish off your tea, watching the altercation take place over the rim of your mug, “Our bounty hunter is currently asleep in his quarters, just as you two should be.”

Paz refuses to back down and you fear that he’s actually going to kill his fellow Mandalorian as his deep baritone grows louder and more infuriated, “I want to kill him, I don’t care that he is currently resting. He is a coward and--”

“Your little healer is exhausted and afraid,” The armorer reminds him firmly, standing up to her full height and you realize her true power when Paz recoils a little, “She is in a new place, surrounded by people she has never met and it has been a long day for her. Would you be so cruel and selfish to deny her relaxation after witnessing such trauma? The nurse is about to fall out of her chair, and yet you only wish to seek violence when she has already seen too much of it in her lifetime.”

“I didn’t--” Paz’s helmet jolts a little as he gazes intensely at you, though you offer him a weak, tired smile, “I am sorry, ner cyare, I was not thinking properly.”

“It’s okay,” You shake your head a little as you slowly stand, your hand traveling to the cauterized wound at your hip; and Paz is instantly at your side when you keel over a little bit in pain, “Although it would be nice to um, to maybe get all of this blood out of my hair?”

“Negotiations for the nurse’s future with the tribe will continue tomorrow,” The armorer stands tall, somehow exuding more power and grace than your blue warrior, “In the meantime, she will recover and rest for as long as she requires.”

“Th-Thank you,” Paz gently presses his hand to the small of your back as you offer your gratitude to the tribe’s matriarch, “For everything.”

She simply offers you a curt nod and watches as Paz dutifully takes you to his private quarters. 

The enclave is a lot quieter than you would have expected and you think they must have some sort of system when it comes to training and sleeping; you have so many questions, but you don’t want to sound too nosy, so you remain silent during the small journey. Your eyelids feel incredibly heavy as he quietly guides you and you pray the Mandalorian doesn’t think too differently after hearing your story--that he doesn’t see you to be any less of yourself for being forced to steal someone’s life.

He’s still tense as he wraps an arm around your waist to help you descend another staircase leading even deeper into the enclave and you hate that you are a part of the reason why he’s so angry and upset. You hate his moody silence, knowing that he’s normally so talkative with you and could probably carry a conversation with himself if it meant you had his full interest.

Tiredly, you make it your own little mission to distract him from his inner turmoil and gently grab his yellow gauntlet once the two of you make it to the bottom of the staircase. His helmet jolts to the side to gaze down at you as you hold his forearm to your stomach, your fingers barely grazing the slim barrel attached to the top of his gauntlet.

You smile up at his visor, whispering out a meek little, ‘I love you.’

Instantly, he stops walking to lean down to press his forehead against yours and warmth settles over your heart similarly to the way his cape around your cold frame brings you comfort and security.

Immediately, he relaxes his tense muscles and lets out a deep sigh, “I love you too, cyare.”

You observe your dark surroundings closely as he leads you past what seems to be several different alcoves that you assume must be the living quarters for other Mandalorians, the entrances to them covered by thick black fabric. You’re surprised when he guides you past them and around a corner where there’s a stone door straight at the end of the corridor; you wonder if he has a bigger room than everyone else because of his status or ranking within the tribe, though you think it rude to ask and simply follow him into his dimly lit quarters.

You’re surprised to find that it’s far bigger than your little hut and you take in all the new surroundings with curiosity.

You keep your hands clasped tightly together, feeling awkward as you watch the warrior calmly make his way to a huge chest on the floor at the foot of his massive bed, seeming utterly relaxed as he begins to remove his big gauntlets and black gloves. placing them inside the large chest. You almost think he’s forgotten about you until he stands up again and purposely wanders back to you, immediately intertwining his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle tug.

“You must be dying for a shower,” He sighs softly, leading you further into his private quarters and through a small alcove protected by black drapes; your cheeks burn hotter than coals when you think of how easy it would be for him to easily invade your privacy, though you know him to be a respectful man, “The water doesn’t always get the warmest, but I’m sure it will be nicer than whatever you had at your home.”

You perk up when you see the big shower and dozens of little holes in the ceiling where the water must fall from, “We had a sonic shower at the infirmary. I’ve never used a real one with actual water.”

The blue warrior stares at you for a few moments before shaking his head a little; he digs through your small canvas bag, pulling out the jars that contain your hair products, as well as your bar of soap. You watch with curiosity as he opens the glass door the shower and places your stuff on a small shelf next to his own belongings and it finally hits you that you are actually at his covert with him and not your measly little hut with a man who hates you.

Paz twists a metal knob a few times around, causing a soft whirring noise, followed by fat droplets of water to fall from the holes in the ceiling and your eyes widen a little at the sight.

“Take as long as you want,” He gently orders in a cool rasp, stroking your bruised cheek with the utmost care and immediately, you turn your head to kiss his palm, earning you a little sigh from him, “I’ll go get some food for you while you shower.”

He turns to leave you alone, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you awkwardly speak up in his native tongue, “Ori kebiin--”

Immediately, the Mandalorian freezes, his back facing you as you speak the strange words that the guard had spoken earlier, “That’s what Ima said, right? I know you told me that saviin’ika means violet and I heard her say that, but what does ori kebiin mean? Is it your title in the tribe?”

“I--It’s just--” Paz seems to hesitate for a few moments before you hear him let out with a frustrated groan, “It is what many of the younger ones in the tribe refer to me as; it means big blue. When I told you that saviin’ika only meant violet, I lied to you, cyare. Saviin means violet, but ‘ika means little.”

“Big blue and little violet?” You murmur, cheeks burning more intensely than any severe sunburn could possibly inflict on you as the warmth spreads to the tip of your ears, “That’s what she was so--”

“It’s nothing,” He huffs a little and rolls his head a little, the joints in his neck cracking from the tension that comes with a long day, "The younger ones in the tribe keep teasing me about you because they know they can get away with it."

You nod and quietly ask him one last question before he can leave, "Where is my vulptex? You said she was here, right?"

Paz chuckles a little as you frantically voice your concerns aloud, now that the two of you are safe and alone, "She is most likely in the nursery with the little ones. She has been fed and taken care of all day, cyare, please do not worry about anyone other than yourself right now. I’ll be out there if you need anything, just call if you need help."

You smile and give him one last 'thank you’ as he leaves you to wash yourself. Slowly and tiredly, you peel your clothes from your bruised and bloodied body and excitedly make your way into the shower.

A gasp nearly leaves you upon feeling the warm water gently pelt against your skin and you smile a little as you tilt your head backwards and let the water loosen the dried blood from your hair. A content sigh escapes you as you remove your metal cuffs from the tails of your braids and you place them on a little stone shelf next to yours’ and Paz's toiletries before getting to work on gently washing your mane, taking your time to make sure all the blood is removed.

You do everything in your power to not pay attention to the pink swirl of water that runs around the big drain in daunting circles. 

Instead, you focus on the scent of your comforting floral shampoo or the spicy, woodsy scent of your warrior’s toiletries as you curiously bring the bar of soap to your nose to smell it.

You're not sure how long you're under the warm spray of water, your eyelids threatening to slip shut, but eventually, you're finally clean and ridden of any proof that you've stolen a life. Reluctantly, you shut the water off and step out onto a furry mat, grabbing a towel that's neatly folded next to your canvas bag. As you dry yourself, making sure not to jostle your injured hip too much, you realize just how much better you already feel now that you're clean.

It’s only once you’ve put on your nightgown that you risk a glance at the little mirror that hangs above the sink and immediately freeze. You look exhausted, you realize as you stare at your wide-eyed expression with sadness and defeat, your eyes filled with the same kind of intense emotion that would be in a young warrior’s eyes upon coming back from war. Hastily, you turn your attention to your hair, carefully combing out all the knots with the comb that Paz had dutifully tucked into the canvas bag for you.

When you brush through your hair for what must be the hundredth time, you realize you’re only delaying the inevitable--him seeing your arms and the rest of your body so exposed in your nightgown, along with all the scars and welts displayed across parts of your arms and shoulders that he’s never seen before.

‘He is a warrior,’ You remind yourself fiercely, nervously tucking a wet lock of hair behind the curve of your ear as you muster up the courage to sweep the thick curtain to the side, ‘He is used to scars and he’s told you countless times that he doesn’t mind them.’

Your nerves are at an all time high as you spot your Mandalorian in the tiny kitchenette in his private quarters, setting a wooden bowl down onto the table and you tiredly smile as he places a small spoon next to it.

“Thank you for letting me use your shower.”

Paz turns around and freezes upon meeting your gaze with his black visor; you can feel water dripping onto the thin satin material of your dress, as well as down your neck and you blink with curiosity as he remains glued to his spot in front of the little table that you realize is next to a stone furnace. He’s holding a bowl with steam dancing along the surface and your mouth instinctively waters when you catch a whiff of all the spices and unfamiliar scents of the savory meal. Behind him, you see a small piece of bread and another bowl filled with vibrant fresh fruit and you feel your heart clench at the mere thought of eating something sweet.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me for everything,” He kindly informs you, pulling out a chair as an invitation to sit down as he sets the bowl on the table, “It is... nice to see you looking more like your normal self already.”

You smile warmly at him and take a seat as the Mandalorian begins to disarm his heavy weapons and equipment, placing them in a safe spot near his massive bed where they are readily accessible, should danger dare threaten him. You nervously fiddle with the wet ends of your clean hair as your knee bounces frantically, watching him as he begins to slowly remove his armor, starting with his pauldrons as he carefully places them in that large chest at the foot of his bed.

His helmet turns and he immediately notices your hesitation to eat the food he’s laid out for you, “You... You can help yourself, cyare. I have already eaten and I can tell you’re hungry.”

You politely murmur a quiet ‘thank you’, not noticing the way his shoulders drop a little as you finally pick up the spoon to eat, your stomach growling more intensely than a rabid beast. Tucking a leg underneath yourself, you tentatively blow on the steaming spoonful of delicious looking stew before bringing it to your mouth and before you can fully register all the different spices, your taste buds explode.

Paz nearly chuckles upon watching your eyes slowly close as you experience all the different flavors for the first time, “I’m going to shower while you eat.”

“Mhm,” You simply hum, barely aware of him shaking his head in an amused manner as you practically ignore him, focusing only on the well-seasoned stew as he makes his way to the refresher. 

You’re slightly sad when your spoon inevitably scrapes the bottom of the wooden dish, but excitement fills you when you remember the bowl of fruit that had been left for you. The berry you pick up is a deep shade of purple and covered in white streaks and you slowly let it slip between your lips, your shoulders falling when you bite into the berry, causing tart juice to explode in your mouth.

You’re not sure how long you must be savoring the fruit for, but eventually, your Mandalorian exits the refresher, completely ridden of all the padding and armor and his visor instantly seeks you out; you’re in the process of licking juice off your finger when your eyes dart upwards to find him standing only a few feet away from you. 

Immediately you freeze, eyes wide as he walks around with his scarred torso completely bared to you, his black sleep pants slung low on his hips and you find it nearly impossible to look away from the rich brown skin that he’s choosing to expose to you for the first time. The muscles of his shoulders and arms are more defined than his soft chest and stomach and you think he must carry most of his strength in those powerful arms, what with being his tribe’s heavy-infantry warrior.

You’re grateful that he’s not touching your cheeks or ears, that way he can’t truly tell how flustered you are. Instead, he dutifully retrieves an extra fur that’s folded in one of the drawers off to the side, only turning to meet your gaze once he’s done covering his mattress in the warm material.

He must take your wide-eyed expression the wrong way, because he almost sounds afraid when he quietly speaks up, “What? You do not wish to see me like this? Are you uncomfortable?”

Immediately, you abandon your fruit and stand up to approach him, “I think you are beautiful, Paz.”

He scoffs a little, but accepts a warm embrace from you as you rest your cheek against his sternum and hook your arms underneath his armpits so you can lay your hands atop his defined shoulder blades. Instantly, his arms are wrapped tightly around your own shoulders and he holds you close to his warm chest where you can feel his heart thumping against your ear like a beacon of power and strength.

“That is my line,” He murmurs, and your lips stretch into a tired smile against his soft skin, the dark curls loosely splayed along his chest are coarse as they tickle your cheek, though you don’t mind at all, “Besides, I thought you once said you would not dare to feed my ego anymore than you already have.”

You close your eyes, taking comfort in the deep rumbling of his chest and voice as you feel his heart thrum powerfully and frantically against your eardrum, “Something makes me think your ego is not as massive as I once thought it to be.”

He scoffs, but simply holds you close to him and you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt such comforting skin on skin contact like this; his huge arms simultaneously acting as a heater and a shield. He hums when you let out a relieved sigh, your warm breath fanning across his sternum as he shivers a little and brings a hand up to gently rub the back of your head, not caring that your hair is still dripping wet and getting onto his own chest.

“Sweetheart,” His chest rumbles as he speaks and your eyes flicker up to meet his visor, “We are both exhausted, it is time for us to rest, I think. Besides, I would much rather hold you like this in my bed.”

You smile and nod a little, watching as he stands tall and moves to turn off all the lights in the dim room. Hesitantly, you make your way underneath the thick furs that are draped on top of the mattress and as you let your head rest on top of a soft pillow, you fear that you will simply sink right through it, as you’ve never rested on something so pliable. Once it’s pitch black in the room and you feel the weight of his warm body dipping in the mattress next to you, you turn over onto your side to face him, despite not being able to see him in the slightest.

Immediately, your mind goes into overdrive as you think of what you’re supposed to do--what he expects from you--and you nearly jump when you feel the gentle weight of his palm carefully resting on top of your sunburnt cheek, his thumb tenderly stroking the tail of your brow. You’re not sure if you should move closer to him or what you should do with your hands as he moves the tiniest bit closer to you. Thinking of the Trandoshan and how you'd been pinned underneath his lifeless body for so long, you suddenly crave to feel his heartbeat and you scoot closer to the man that feels more like a furnace.

He doesn't say a word as he moves so he's on his back and lifts a big arm above his head, patiently waiting as you find a comfortable position to rest your head. Finally, after a few awkward seconds of the two of you fumbling around in the dark, your head finds its home on his chest, your cheek pressed against a thick, raised scar and you close your eyes with a soft smile. His arm comes down from above his head to hold you closer to him, his other hand moving to continue its previous ministrations on your cheeks and lips as you rest your palm above his heart.

You’re half asleep when you feel a crooked finger press up against the underside of your jaw, guiding your head upwards slightly and you gasp when you feel something warm and plush kiss the top of your hair.

You’re utterly unfamiliar with the sensation of being kissed, but when you feel the same pressure against your forehead, followed by an unmodulated sigh and warm breath fanning across your face, you realize the warrior has broken part of his sacred code.

He took his helmet off for you.

“P-Paz, you--” Your voice trembles and you feel his lips quirk into a smile against the brow he’s currently kissing before he moves to the bridge of your nose, “Your helmet!”

“What about it, sweetheart?”

You feel at a loss for words at the sound of his unfiltered voice and he lets out with a small chuckle at your intense reaction, humming softly against your skin as he squeezes you a little tighter.

“Can you see my face?” He questions softly against the apple of your cheek, and you shiver at the sound of his smooth baritone in the raw; when you answer him with a weak little ‘no’, he continues with amusement evident in his unfiltered voice, “Then I have not brought dishonor to my tribe or you.”

“Are you sure?”

He huffs out a small chuckle against the tip of your nose and you smile at how different his laughter sounds without his helmet--much lighter and less crackly--and you cling onto his warm voice as he firmly rubs the stress away from your shoulders and cradles your jaw with his other hand. After being handled so roughly and grossly by the Trandoshan, his tender hands fill your aching heart with love and relief; your eyelids slowly slip shut when you feel him move his torso a little off the bed so he can kiss your chin.

“I am positive, sweet nurse.”

Shyly, you lift your hand from his chest and rest it on the side of his neck as he lightly nuzzles his nose into the damp hair that’s just a little above the tip of your ear, seeming to feel no shame as he inhales the scent of your shampoo and conditioner.

You shiver when he presses another kiss into your hair and you speak up as your hand slowly inches up his neck, feeling all the little scars and veins that are prominent, along with the way his Adam’s apple shifts up and down when you graze past it, “Am I allowed to touch your face?”

He hums and moves his head to kiss all the areas on your face that he previously missed--the corners of your eyes, the spot between your brows, as well as the sides of your nose--but he ultimately decides to venture to the corner of your lips, “You may do whatever you wish to me.”

Your face grows hot as he captures your earlobe between his thumb and index finger, a large grin spreading across his lips when he feels the intense warmth on the pad of his fingers, and you shyly continue your ascent up to his face. The first thing you feel is a coarse beard and you nearly jump away from him when the wiry hair tickles and scratches against your sensitive palms; it feels neatly trimmed, cropped just a few inches underneath his smooth cheekbones and you think he must take great care to not slack with his daily hygiene or grooming.

Before you can make it to his nose, the massive warrior sighs against the corner of your lips and speaks in the most wistful tone you think you’ve ever heard--

“May I kiss you properly now, cyare?”

You freeze, completely caught off guard by his words as you hesitantly lift your head from his chest, aiming your gaze in the direction where you think his eyes must be as he reluctantly drops his head back against the pillow. His fingers tense along your sore shoulder blade and you fear that he must feel that he’s done something wrong because of your hesitation, but as you manage to turn and move until your chest is pressed against his, you shyly explore his plump lips with your fingertips.

Curiosity gets the better of you at the thought of exploring his lips with yours and you lower your head and use your hands to guide your lips to his in the darkness of his room.

Immediately, you soften against him, your palms cradling his scratchy cheeks as you shyly kiss him and you're surprised at how warm and soft his lips are against yours.

You can’t help but to grin a little at the deep groan he lets out when he seems to realize that you’re actually kissing him.

Tilting your head a little to the side, you find it easier to kiss him the way you wish and you feel Paz completely relax underneath the tiny weight of your body as you fully press your lips against his, the side of your nose lightly bumping against his. You can smell the minty scent of his own shampoo mixed with the woodsiness of his body wash and you think it intoxicates you as he reaches up to cup the back of your head to keep you from straying too far from his tender lips. 

A small whimper escapes you when his teeth graze your bottom lip and you feel lighter and bereft of all thought when you reluctantly pull away from each other, feeling like a night sky without her moon and you can’t stop yourself from stealing another kiss, earning another soft noise from the surprised man. 

Your heart pounds a little faster when you feel his hand dip down to your waist to carefully hike you further up his body so he doesn’t have to lift his head as much and you smile as you bring your hands up to cup his scruffy cheeks; as your thumbs graze his cheekbones, you’re delighted to find that they are just as warm as your own. You’re practically laying on top of him, though he doesn’t seem to mind the weight of your body in the slightest as he holds you close to him.

Paz makes a small humming noise as he gently rubs a large hand up and down your back, continuing to kiss the corners of your lips and cheeks with fervor even when you pull away for air; you close your eyes in bliss, unfamiliar with the affection, but also basking in his warmth--his love.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

He whispers the unfamiliar words several times against your warm skin and you think he must be telling you the sweetest words, what with how quiet and soft he’s grown underneath you and your curiosity immediately gets the better of you.

“What does that mean?” 

“In Mando’a, it means ‘I hold you in my heart forever’,” He explains, teeth grazing your sensitive jawline before moving upwards to steal another kiss from your grinning lips, “It is our way of telling another that we love them.”

You think it sounds far more beautiful than those other simple three words but you let the warrior kiss your lips as many times as he wishes, thinking that perhaps he’s never been this intimate with another. Also because you’ve never been showered with such affection and you think receiving it from Paz is one of the most beautiful phenomenons you’ve ever experienced.

"Your lips still taste like fruit," He informs you as his lips graze your jawline before moving to your ear, "I wonder if the rest of you tastes so sweet."

The gruffness of his tone combined with the way his teeth gently nip at your lobe has you feeling as though you're going to pass out or spontaneously combust. Shyly, you tuck your head firmly underneath his chin, your sunburned cheeks feeling even hotter as the warrior's chest rumbles with a deep laugh.

“I think you only wished to have me here so you can torment me,” You whisper against his bare neck, earning another chuckle from your Mandalorian as he continues to rub your spine in a comforting manner, “I don’t think I mind this kind of torment though. I would not mind having this every night, if you and your people were so kind to allow it.”

“They will,” He murmurs, squeezing you tighter to him, “Please, cyare, rest your eyes. You have had a long day, but you are safe with me now.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and contentment as your eyelids slowly slip shut, exhaustion overtaking your body as he continues to gently press tender kisses to your cheeks and brows until you fall into a strange sleep where you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. You have nightmares of the Trandoshan’s body pinned against yours, as well as sweet dreams of spending the rest of your days underneath such tender care of your Mandalorian.

You’re in a strange limbo of intense nightmares and delightful dreams, but Paz seems to wake up whenever you whimper or let out with a small cry, reminding you in a hushed whisper that you are somewhere safe with him, rather than the infirmary or your hut. It’s not until you feel him stroking the tail of your brow that you fully fall into a peaceful sleep with visions of blue Beskar and strong arms.

You barely wake up with a quiet whimper hours later when you feel him lightly shuffling your body off of his before speaking in a soft, raspy whisper, “I must leave now for negotiations, cyare. You stay here and rest, okay? I shouldn’t be too long.”

“M’kay,” You blearily hum, nuzzling your face into the pillow that smells like Paz and you’re only slightly aware of the way he gives you one last kiss against your brow before he leaves you to put his armor and helmet on and begin his duties for the day.

You don’t sleep for too much longer, finding that Paz has taken all the warmth with him, even with the plush, thick fur that covers your body. You stare up at the ceiling for a few until you hear the covert slowly come alive, metal scraping against metal and loud shouts in an alien language followed by ringing laughter. Feeling slightly lazy and useless, you decisively get out of the comfortable, massive bed and make your way into the refresher, preparing yourself for what you think might be a long, strange day.

It feels bizarre seeing your hair without its flowers and a part of you wonders if Paz still has the flowers you gave him; perhaps you would still be able to plant them and grow some more, you ponder hopefully.

After you finish your typical morning routine, choosing to leave your hair without your usual braids, you throw on your leggings and sweater before cautiously poking your head out the door. You’re surprised to find the corridor empty and slowly leave Paz’s quarters, despite his insistence on you resting.

Curiosity has you nervously wringing your hands together as you make it to the staircase that Paz had led you down the previous night, and you jump a little upon hearing loud cheering and the shrill sound of metal clanging and scraping against each other. After finally making it up the stairs, you tentatively head in the direction that the ruckus is coming from.

It’s not until you hear Paz’s infuriated baritone of a voice that you make haste to the armory, barely remembering how to get there. Eventually, you round a corner and nearly freeze upon seeing several armored Mandalorians surrounding what appears to be some sort of altercation in front of the forge and you immediately sigh when you see a blue helmet right in the center of it. 

You spot Ima, who seems to stand out from the others with her bright armor and you perk up a little as you approach her.

“Ima,” You say her name just loud enough for her to hear over the a loud shriek of metal being scraped, successfully gaining her attention as she turns to face you, “What’s going on?”

“See for yourself,” She sounds slightly amused and you allow her to place a hand on your shoulder, urging you between her and another huge Mandalorian that barely cocks his helmet to look down at you, “Your ori kebiin verd is fighting for your honor, though I don’t think Djarin is putting up much of a fight.”

You gasp upon seeing the bounty hunter from the previous day crumbled to the ground on his knees, Paz’s hand curled into the thick material of his cowl to hold him up properly.

“How many credits did you deem her life worthy of?!” Paz roars and you instantly freeze, thinking you’ve never heard him this infuriated, even towards your father, “Tell me you fucking hu’tuun! Tell me how many credits you were given in exchange for an innocent, precious life!”

“Five hundred,” The bounty hunter rasps, sounding weak and terribly injured underneath all the Beskar and your instincts have you stepping forward, though Ima is quick to ground you in place with a hand on your shoulder; she simply shakes her head when you peer up at her.

“Five--you gave her away for five hundred credits?!” You feel frozen as Paz forces him to his feet and drags him over to the forge that is now activated, “You only did it because you thought she would be an easy target, didn’t you, Djarin?”

The bounty hunter grunts when Paz forcefully pushes him backwards, slamming his head against the outer rim of the forge before wrapping his fingers around the injured man’s neck and holding his shiny helmet close to the intense flames.

You immediately voice your fears to Ima, who seems unfazed, as though this is a common occurrence, “Is Paz going to actually kill him?”

“Nah, this happens all the--” She stops mid sentence upon hearing the bounty hunter’s grunts and groans from the intense, suffocating heat that’s trapped underneath his helmet, though Paz makes no move to let him go, “Actually, he might go through with it this time. If not, Djarin’s definitely going to wish he was dead.”

“What?” Paz scoffs when the bounty hunter begins to thrash a little harder against the warrior’s unwavering grip, the heat most likely becoming more unbearable, “Can’t handle a little heat, vod? I’m sure you’re crying under that damn helmet more than she cried when you forced her to cauterize her own fucking wound.”

“I didn’t--” The bounty hunter sounds like he’s trying to disguise his excruciating pain and you feel your shoulders tense up to your earlobes, hating that you feel sympathy for the man who attempted to trade your life away for such a small price.

“Do you know how many times she tried to tell you?” Paz’s voice drops to a terrifying growl, the noise crackly and you wonder what’s currently going through his mind, “Do you know what she already had to deal with every damn day and you--” Tears fill your eyes at the pain in his next words, “You know what she means to me and you made her too scared to even look at me, hu’tuun. I almost lost her because of my own brother!”

You fear that the bounty hunter has passed out when he doesn’t respond, his body growing limp underneath Paz’s grip, but the warrior continues, “Why don’t I help you with that heat problem, Djarin? Bet you could use a little fresh air.”

You gasp when a large hand moves to the chin of the bounty hunter’s shiny helmet, his fingers curling underneath the lip and you immediately understand what he wants to do.

“You’re going to look her in eyes when you beg for forgiveness at her feet, Din Djarin.”

Translations *this is for all the dialogue between Imalia and Paz*

norac bid Nusujii, ori kebiin=back so soon, big blue?

cuyir ibic gar orikih baar'ur, ba’vodu?=is this your tiny medic, uncle?

Elek=yes (Lek is more casual, like ‘yeah’)

Ni copad at haa'taylir kaysh=I want to see her

Gar liser't chayaikir kaysh guuror ibic=You can't tease her like this

Ni guuror kaysh=i like her

cuyir gar orikih baar’ur ratiin ibic pel=Is your tiny medic always this soft?

tion'jor an te tal?=why all the blood?

vaii cuyir te sarad gar rucuyir cyau'kuyc at dinuir kaysh?=where is the flower you were excited to give her?

cuyir te baar'ur shupur'yc?= is the medic injured?

ner alor=my leader

Then there’s the usual words for nicknames and such:

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Cyare=Beloved, loved, popular

Hu’tuun=Coward

Verd=Warrior

Author’s note: Thank you all so much for the kind, supportive words on the last chapter!! Like, literally everyone has been so sweet and so supportive despite me being more inactive than usual and it seriously means the world to me?? Like I said before, I’m so excited to have more time to be active on here and interact with you all much more!! I love you all so much, hope you’re having a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it <33

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild  @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion​ @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero​ @haloangel391​ @honestlystop​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @haloangel391​ @awhiskeywithawinchester *As always, if I missed anyone, please let me know ASAP!! 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

JL Fic Recs: Angst With Happy Ending Pt. 3

Hey all!!

OKAY, so... I somehow LOST the original ask that this list was supposed to attach to, so I’m going to just offer it as a standalone list, because I need it posted for another ask I have, LOL.

So, for whoever asked about 2 months ago for Angst with a Happy Ending, this one is for you, LOL. I’m sorry, I have no idea why your post disappeared from my drafts. Enjoy, all, a rare List Without an Ask :). ENJOY!! And as usual, add your faves! <3

ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING Pt 3

See also:

Angst With a Happy Ending

Angst With a Happy Ending Pt. 2

Angsty Fluff

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing.Almost...magical.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love,  Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[azrielsribbon]

!!! A COURT OF SILVER FLAME SPOILERS !!!

Alternatively, Asli finished the book in like six hours and has many, many thoughts.

ON THE TOPIC OF NESTA, SOME CASSIAN AND NESSIAN AS A WHOLE.

holy shit. this is a lot.

She has grown so much, and I mean that by the little things.

I love that sjm didn’t make it so she was addicted to the wine and sex

Okay I understand Nesta was frustrating sometimes because she really was stubborn but some of the shit Cassian said was really out of line. Especially when he screamed that no one like fucking liked her.

Cassian was down so bad this entire book and I knew that the moment he said he hadn’t bed a female in two years. He was STARVINGGG

Her determination in getting down those stairs, I probably wouldve tested myself down a window or something.

I liked how she bonded with the House. It was a refreshing, different take on loneliness and finding a friend.

The House and how it looked after her. It was the biggest thing in her journey.

One theme I see in Nesta a lot is self sabotage, especially when it means the safety of others. She’s ready to throw herself in front of them.

Her banter with Cassian was really nice to read.

WHEN SHE MENTIONED HAVING A THREESOME TWICE I DIED

Cassian and his backstory was rip. It was really sad thinking about how little kid Cass really regretted some of the things that even he couldn’t control.

sjm did not disappoint with inner thoughts. Those were really refreshing.

She wasn’t vividly jealous or furious at Mor and Cassian’s friendship and I really liked that take.

Cassian’s silent jealously when Helion tries to flirt with Nesta and she dodged it LMAOOO

When Cassian kisses her in front of their family to help her get out of the map

Her silent bond with Az! That kept me going honestly. He was a sly bastard sometimes.

Sometimes I really questioned somethings, like those fast smut scenes but that’s just my preference.

Her marching down to Amren’s after she finds out they voted against her having the weapons she Made

Not to mention how she told Feyre about the baby and the labor risk out of anger, that really hurt both of them and me.

When she stayed silent during her punishment hike with Cassian. Each thought tore me apart.

When he warned her about falling and she was glad he didn’t see the expression on her face. How she didn’t mind if she fell down and how it would better.

When she cried after all those days of silence and finally told him how she felt underneath all that.

He softened up fast too and blamed himself for not realizing all this time why she hated the fire.

Can we talk about that dancing scene with Eris? And how Cassian was secretly exploding on the side as he remembered her mother wanted her to marry a Prince just like Eris.

WHEN ERIS ASKED RHYS WHAT HE WANTED IN EXCHANGE FOR NESTA TO BE HIS BRIDE AFTER LIKE A COUPLE DANCED LMAOO

The Solstice scene had my heart. The gift Az got Nesta and how she hugged him after he told her about it. How Cassian smiled at the sight.

HOW CASS GOT HER A LITTLE MUSIC BOX RECORDED WITH THE MUSIC FROM THE BALLROOM AND HOW HE ASKED THE MUSICIANS TO PERFORM IT FOR HIM AFTER EVERYONE LEFT SO HE COULD GET IT FOR HERRRR

They really kept shit away from each other till it exploded in an argument and that’s a reoccurring theme with this book couple.

WHAT MADE ME SO FRUSTRATED WAS HOW HE WANTED TO STAY IN HER BED AFTER SEX AND SHE WANTED TO CUDDLE BUT THEY DIDNT SAY ANYTHING AND ASSUMED THE OTHER DIDNT WANT IT

The topic of mates was RUSHED. Like I mean really rushed. First they argue, he says shackled and then the next time they get to speak (after the forced Blood Rite and labor scene) they accept it? I dont know, it didn’t sit with me.

I wish Nesta would elaborate on why she didn’t believe in Mates even more and Cassian would actually listen for once. Again, rushed.

The ending was fast paced in my opinion. We could’ve really had more to go off of, I needed more domestic Nessian.

ON THE TOPIC OF NESTA, GWYN, EMERIE

I am obsessed with Gwyn, Emerie and their friendship with Nesta.

I love how Gwyn and Nesta started, both gritting their teeth and still appreciating that aspect of each other.

How Nesta raced to help her with a book even when their first encounter wasn’t the friendliest.

Gwyn being persistent in paying back her small debt. I love her.

When Gwyn applied to defense lessons after Nesta defended them from the scholar priestess.

Emerie, my homegirl. I love her to death. The way she easily befriends Nesta, how Nesta stands up for her when her cousin comes to bother her.

I don’t know if it was just me, but Emerie and Mor might possibly be something. Either good friends or interested lovers.

THE WAY EMERIE BONDED OVER SMUTTY NOVELS WITH THE OTHER GIRLS AND LET THEM BORROW HER STUFFFFFF

Gwyn helping Nesta with her research on Valkyries. Muah.

Gwyn and Az, I feel like something might happen here and if it does, I do not want any Elriel drama getting dragged in, MY GIRL GWYN HAS BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH OKAY

Gwyn thinking she doesn’t deserve the purity jewel the other priestesses wear and her backstory honestly just broke me. She endured so much.

Emerie and everything she lost. Her mother, her brother, her wings and any dreams she had of flying. How she distracts herself with work and gardening to keep that off her mind.

The way the girls all developed inside jokes, jokingly hanged up on Cassian at training and always had Nesta’s back.

The way they were dedicated to each other even during the Rite when they couldve let one another behind and won.

HER SISTERSSS I CRIED I WOULD DIE FOR THIS MF TRIOOOO

ON THE TOPIC OF THE INNER CIRCLE + THE ARCHERON PARENTS

Fey-ruh was pregoooo she and Rhys raw dogged it

I felt really really bad when no one fucking told her she would die because the baby had wings and she wasn’t fit to give birth like that. Like. What.

Can we talk about how they fucked when Feyre was in her Illyrian form and didn’t think the thing through?

Rhys, I can’t stand the guy. First he wants to make a bargain with his mate that they die together and then he wants to keep it from her that she can die when giving birth to their kid.

I think what pissed me off the most was when he was trying to help Cassian get Nesta out of a nightmare/power “episode” and had to experience what she did with the Cauldron and seeing Elain and Cassian hurt. He said he knew she was feeling something but seeing and feeling it yourself was different. Yeah, what else did you think smartass.

Rhys has a habit of keeping important shit secret, Amren is no better either. I think that’s what pissed me off the most. They sometimes kept the too important shit away.

As much as Nesta grew, so did Feyre. They both developed pretty good in my mind, I don’t hate her as much as I despise Rhys sometimes. All and all I love how she and Nesta ended up.

Amren....I get her point about Nesta using and abusing their friendship. At the same time, sometimes she was too harsh.

Elain, darling old cottage core aesthetic Elain. I found her to be a little insufferable sometimes. How she showed up unexpectedly at the Library to talk to Nesta and they got into an argument was funny to me since Nesta pulled out some stuff on her.

ELAIN THANKING NESTA AND SAYING FINALLY AFTER SHE TELLS HER TO “OH FUCK OFF” AT THE SOLSTICE PARTY WAS SO RANDOM

Elain and Lucien is some fucked up shit. I understand how she doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that they’re mates and all that but you can atleast thank the guy when he gives you a gift on Solstice.

I feel bad for Lucien because as sweet as Elain might show to be, she’s really hurting him and could just reject him if she really doesn’t want him.

AZ AZ AZ I LOVE HIM AND HIS SLY MOMENTS

Az when he cockblocks is the best thing. Do it more often.

Az and Nesta’s bond is something I want to see more, as well as how she literally thought about a threesome with him and Cassian.

Morriiiiigan. Everyone mentions her beauty and how she’s like the sun walking and I admire that. She wasn’t as annoying as I thought she’d be on the topic of Nesta and Cassian being an item.

She also wasn’t in the book as much which made sense since she was in Vallahan. I did like how she accepted Nessian towards the end.

The long awaited Mrs Archeron. Some of my theories about her proved true! About how she groomed her daughters into marriage ideologies at the worst age. 12 and 11? What the fuck?

The way she called Elain a pretty thing with no ambition at 11, no wonder Nesta and Elain have no proper knowledge of survival like Feyre did. She was set on making sure Nesta married someone who would treat her well, Elain married someone rich since her beauty was beyond all three of them.

Literally Mrs Archeron was not okay LMAOOO why are you telling your daughters this when they haven’t even bled yet damn CHILL

I felt bad since she didn’t care for Feyre and only their father doted on Elain and Feyre. Nesta was kept all to her mother to feed off Mrs Archeron’s narcissism.

Not to mention she died a year later

I found it funny Elain mentioned how at 15, Nesta even had their dad fearing her. Like it’s your daughter, wdym you fear her

The backstory on how Nesta treated him and how she feels now looking back. It was saddening and I unfortunately know the regret of not doing somethings. It must eat her alive.

I enjoyed reading this book, even if I wasn’t content with the ending. I tabbed a LOT of things so you’ll probably catch me editing and adding more to this in the morning. Thank you for reading all the way down here! 🤍

[suchalonelysunflower]

“Wish I’ve known”

(Ashton Irwin X Fem! Reader || Angst/Fluff)

Summary: Part 3 of my “Know You” Series. After being inseparable while being separated, is there a chance there could be more between Ashton and you?

Warnings: Angsty Fluff (you’ll get why) Strong language. Mentions of: COVID - 19, quarentine, alcohol, insecurities, jealousy and anxiety. Also bad English (not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 4.3 k

A/N: Part 3 is here! Hope you like it! Feedback is always welcomed. And if you’re new here, welcome to my new account! 💙🦋 from now on all of my writings will be here and if you want you can check out my materialist. I will really appreciate it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

“Maybe I should get a dog” Y/N thought as she watered her plants. The fact that none of them had died in the last few months was truly a miracle. Obviously, the fact that she had to stay home quarantined and had no other better thing to do also helped.

She was relieved when her boss allowed them to work from home, granting her some security and control over that aspect of her life. But, truth is, it hasn’t been easy.

When quarantine was announced, she was a mess. Not because she didn’t understand the importance and the magnitude of this horrible pandemic, she did and she knew this was the best decision to keep everyone safe and she respected that. It was the feeling of helplessness and loneliness that got through her, and she felt selfish about it. How could she dare to feel like that when worst things were happening to so many people?

She couldn’t shake that feeling, so she did what she knows best: She hid it under a rug. She remembered what KayKay had said about Ashton once: “He avoids his feelings, but he will never lie”. It was a thing you and Ashton had in common.

Ashton…

Your thoughts drifted to the black haired man again. You just started your new relationship as friends just a few weeks before you were forced inside by a major force. Thing got better between both of you after the first “get to know you” hang out you had in your apartment. You started to see each other in a more friendly way rather than strangers in the same room, you would sit next to him sometimes and share some laughs with the others. At first it was very awkward for everyone, but they were grateful you two could finally set things right.

Everything was going smoothly. The band was about to release their new album, they were going on tour soon with your other favorite band and they even asked you to join them for some leg of the tour! But then everything changed.

You were a little surprised when your phone started ringing minutes after the quarantine became official. You were even more surprised to see the name that popped out.

“Hey” Ashton said once you picked up the FaceTime call “I’m assuming that you have that upset face because of the news and not because I called…”

You smiled a little but at that comment.

“I was expecting it, actually... The news, I mean” you quickly added when you saw his eyebrows lift “Your call was a surprise”

“I just wanted to know if you were okay”

“Me? How are you?! This could affect the whole album launch and the tour! I should be the least of your concerns at this moment”

“Don’t say that”

“You surely have some better things to worry about” You continued without listening to what he just said “Do you have enough food at home? I know people have been going crazy about toilet paper, do you have enough? I’ve stocked myself a few days ago, I can send you some…”

You stopped when you saw how his eyebrows knit together. You couldn’t tell if it was because of something you said that annoyed him.

“Did I say something bad?” You asked, sheepishly.

Ashton just smiled and shook his head.

“No, I’m just amazed on how quickly you went into “mom friend mode” Even though I asked how you were doing, you still tried to make this about anything but you. You truly are something else” He smiled at the phone and you felt the heat rising up to your cheeks “Now, tell me. How are you, really?”

That was just the first of many FaceTime calls you had, that without mentioning the texts, snaps and normal phone calls you had with Ashton everyday. You would send each other pictures and memes, you would talk for hours about everything and nothing at the same time and even shared some gardening tips.

You celebrated with him when the album dropped, congratulating him and the boys, watching their live-streams and laughing along with them and Luke’s boomer energy. He was the first person you called when their album reached n1 in the UK and you were the first person he called when the Billboard mess happened.

It was a comfort knowing you were always there for each other. Weather it was a late night call because you couldn’t sleep, or if he needed an opinion on some song lyrics, or just to be in each other’s company. It was amazing how close you guys became being so far away.

You smiled to yourself with that thought. You didn’t realize you were basically drowning your plant until your phone rang next to you, pushing your thoughts away for a moment.

“Shit, maybe I’m not ready for a dog”

******************************************************

Ashton was in the middle of a zoom call when he received your text. He sent you a picture of his snack bar next to his computer with the text: “This is what happens when you fish finger shame a guy”

Yours was a text that said: “glad you’re making healthier decisions in your life. I, on the other hand, just drowned Peter the Eucalyptus :(“ and attached was a picture of the poor plant with its pot flooded.

He couldn’t help but smile fondly at the text.

Ashton never thought he could be this content stuck in his house. Yeah, everything that was going on was fucking horrible and yeah, it sucked not going on tour this year or not doing a proper promotion of the album. But he had you.

He had you and that was more than he could ever ask for. He couldn't understand why he spend so much time avoiding you instead of knowing you. Every time he thought about it, he wished to go back in time and make things right, for you to be with him from the start instead of… well.

But right now, it didn’t matter how badly your story started. He knows you know how much he regrets his past actions towards you and how much he wishes to fix it. He knows he might never fix it completely, but, right now. he was just so happy with the fact that you were now part of his life.

He was amazed on how your relationship has progressed. How similar you were in so many ways and how easy it is for you to understand each other even without saying anything. It is sure to say that you were on his mind all the time, consuming all his thoughts because: How are you even real?. He couldn’t wait to talk to you because he was sure that talking to you was his favorite part of the day.

Now that you’re in his life, he never wants to be without you ever again.

“Whatta you smiling there, Ashy” Calum said.

For a moment Ashton forgot about the zoom call and now his three best friends were looking at him, smirking playfully.

“What?” He said trying to sound unbothered, but failing as he felt his cheeks warming up “Nothing, just got a text…”

“Ooh, must be someone really special if it makes you blush like that” teased Luke, raising his eyebrows.

Ashton smiled a little bit. It was, in fact, someone special, it was you.

“It’s just Y/N” he said, trying to sound disinterested “She just texted me something about her Eucalyptus”

“Peter or Gerald?”

The surprise in Ashton’s face was noticeable when Calum mention the names of Y/N’s plants. For some reason, it bothered him.

“Peter”

He knew that the tone he used was kind of aggressive. But he hoped the guys didn’t notice it.

“You’ve been talking a lot lately, huh?” Michael added.

“Yeah… everytime I try to FaceTime you’re already on a call with her or texting her…”

“Or I’m just ignoring you, Luke” Ashton said, defensively “Yeah, we’ve talked. You know, just trying to get to know her”

“And because you have a crush on her…”

“I don’t… Luke I swear to god…”

“Aww look how he gets all rilled up! Ashton has a crush on Y/N”

“Michael, stop it. And Calum, if you say something I swear I’m gonna beat you up” Ashton threatened.

Calum just raised his hands, not saying anything but suggesting it with his face. Ashton just sighed.

“I don’t have a crush on Y/N, okay? I just… I just think she’s great, you know? I’m just starting to get her to like me as a friend. And she’s just.. great”

“You've said that already”

Ashton glared at Michael.

“I get it, mate” Calum intervened “Y/N is amazing. Truly one of a kind”

Soon you became the topic of the conversation. Everyone was talking about you and telling anecdotes. It shouldn’t have made Ashton mad, but it did. Though, mad wasn’t the word. He was jealous.

He tried to convince himself that he shouldn’t be. He was the one who screwed up and missed all that time with you. But he couldn’t help the way his blood boiled up everytime he thought about how close you were to the others, specially Calum. He still remembers how he was holding you when you first came into his house for a movie night. It took all of his strength not to ask Calum if you guys were dating.

“She’s coming to the party, right?” Luke asked, pulling Ashton away from his thoughts.

“Yeah” he answered “She said she’ll be there”

“And then maybe you could tell her about your little crush?”

Ashton rolled his eyes.

“For the last time, I do not….”

****************************************************

“Do not have a crush on Ashton!”

Y/N was in the middle of her own zoom call with Sierra and Crystal. And, just like their boyfriends/fiancés, they were teasing her about her newly formed friendship with the drummer.

“Yeah, whatever you say”

“Liar liar pants on fire…”

You rolled your eyes at them. You loved them dearly, but right now you want to strangle them.

“This was supposed to be a zoom call to check our outfits for the party. Not a “Let’s all attack Y/N” zoom call”

When the news announced a week ago that quarantine was officially over, Ashton didn’t hesitate for a second to throw a party to celebrate their new found freedom. And you didn’t hesitate for a second in saying yes when he invited you.

“Sorry, baby” Sierra said “But that grin on your face told us otherwise”

Ashton had just responded to your text and you were careless enough to smile at it while the girls were in the middle of a conversation you didn’t pay attention to.

“Guys…” you plead covering your face with your hands “Can we please change the topic? Ashton and I are just friends, hell a few month ago he hated me! It’s impossible for him to like me like that if he didn’t even like me at all to begin with! Plus..” you dropped your hands and looked down “He’s Kaykay’s ex, I wouldn’t do that to her! No matter if I…”

“If you like him?” Crystal finished your sentence.

Your silence and your flushed cheeks said it all.

“Oh, honey” Sierra tried to comfort you

“I don’t like Ashton” You said firmly.

But to be honest, you weren’t sure you meant that. Yes, you’ve always had a fascination with him when you were nothing more than a fan. Yes, he hated you for the most part you’ve known each other. Yes, he apologized and became one of the closest people you had in your life now, he brings you a sense of security you haven’t felt in years and you know you can trust him with anything. And yes, he’s hot as fuck, but he’s also very kind and funny and incredibly smart and willing to make you laugh and…

But you didn’t like him. You couldn’t. He’s your friend’s ex. He’s best friends with your best friends. He’s someone that came recently into your life but if he’s ever gone you wouldn’t know what to do. You can’t like him because you will ruin it, just like everything else. And you wouldn’t let that happen.

You gazed your screen again, Sierra and Crystal had understanding looks, but at the same time they changed their backgrounds to Hercules’ Muses. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“Did you have to put that background?”

“Couldn’t help it, sorry”

“But we won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t want to. However, if you do wanna talk, we’re here for you, darling. Always”

“Yeah, I guess it might be hard to talk about. But will it really be the worst thing ever?” Asked Crystal.

“What?” You asked in surrender.

“Let down your walls and let it happen?”

You froze.

“You are worthy of love, Y/N” Sierra added “You deserve to be happy and, believe me girl, that smile you made when he’s name popped up. I haven’t seen it until now”

Your eyes went involuntarily to the small screen next to you. His name was next to a smiley face with a text that said: ”I’m really glad I’ll get to see you again”

And you could admit that the feeling was mutual.

****************************************************

The day of the party finally came! You were excited to see all your friends again, no need for zoom calls or texts or multiplayer games. Quarantine was over and you couldn’t wait any longer.

You got yourself ready for the party, the words of your friends still lingered in your thoughts as you took one last look at your appearance “It’s gonna be fine” you thought “You can control your feelings, he’s your friend and nothing more. Don’t mess it up” And with that, you walked through the door and drove to Ashton’s house.

On the other hand, Ashton couldn’t stop staring at the door. Even though he wouldn’t admit it at loud, he was hoping to see you. He wanted to be the first person you saw, the first person to say ’hello’ and give you a hug. But mostly, he wanted to see your smile again, most importantly, he wanted to see you smile at him.

“What is he doing?” Luke asked Sierra who was just as intrigued by Ashton’s ‘guard dog’ behavior.

“I don’t know… I guess he’s trying to be a good host?”

The girl have answered, half asked “but he seems… oh”

His demeanor became apparent once you came through those doors. Making Luke and Sierra giggle to themselves.

You opened the door confidently, or at least trying to be confident. But that went to shit when the first person you saw was the same person who couldn’t leave your thoughts for one moment.

“Hey, you!” Ashton said, visibly relaxing when he spotted you.

His smile was dashing, making all of his dimples pop out. He went straight for a hug and you could feel yourself melting into it, but also holding on as tight as you could. After all, he was the first person you saw in flesh and bone after months of being home alone.

Ashton rounded his arms around your waist and didn’t want to let go. You were there, really there! He wondered how could he ever lived without your hugs before? He could feel that the hug was lasting more than it should, but he didn’t care. You all spend months without seeing each other, it didn’t mean anything. At least, he knew that for you it didn’t. And he hoped he believed that for him either.

But you had to separate at some point.

“I can’t believe that’s you!” You said, extremely happy to be able to see people again “In flesh and bone and not on a screen”

“I’m as real as you want me to be” he laughed as he took you in “You look… amazing”

He hoped you didn’t notice his short breath. You hoped he didn’t notice how you blushed.

“Well, I think everyone looks amazing after months in solitary confinement”

“Nah… you always look amazing” It was at this moment where you averted your eyes to the floor that Ashton realized he said that at loud “Ehm… Look, there’s Sierra, let’s go say hi” he quickly added, guiding you towards your other friends.

Both Sierra and Luke had amused faces, but neither you or Ashton knew why. Sierra launched herself at you, almost making you fall on your ass.

“I’m never social distancing again!” She said, finally letting you go “I missed you so damn much”

“Missed you, too. Luke! It’s so nice to see you!” You hugged him as best as you could. 6’2 my ass, he was closer to 6’5 with those boots.

“God, Y/N. It was about damn time” and when he finally let go he added “But I’m sure you were… entertained during this quarantine”

Next thing you know, Ashton rounder his arm around Luke’s shoulder and said something like “Oh, look. There’s Andy. Let’s go and say hi, Luke” and he left with his very confused bandmate.

“What just happened?” You asked.

“No idea” said Sierra, casually “But let’s go find Crystal and Mike! They’ve been asking for you”

And just like that, you were pulled into multiple hugs once you found them. Not much later after that, Luke joined you again with Calum and Ashton.

Calum barely spotted you and went to give you a big, crushing hug and kissed you on the cheek. You had missed him so much and were just too happy to see him and everybody again that you didn’t notice the way Ashton suddenly tensed up at the sight of you two.

He knows he has no right to be jealous. They were your friends way longer than he was. They were the ones who knew about your struggles and your interests way before he did. They were the ones who were deserving of your love and care, way more than he will ever be.

But something clicked when he saw the way you were hugging his best friend and in the way he kissed your cheek.

He wanted it to be him. He wanted to be the one who kissed your cheek so tenderly. He wanted to be the one who would wrap his arms you and never leave your side. He wanted to look into your eyes and see himself in the reflection, be the one who comforts you the same way you comfort him. He wanted to play with your hair and caress your cheeks, and for you to do the same. He wanted you to love him just as much as you seem to love them, maybe even a little bit more.

But, he knows that will never be. He knows he hurt you so much that it was impossible for you to even see him that way. He doesn’t deserve that, no matter how many times he thinks he might. He doesn’t. Hell, the fact that you’re even considering him as a friend was a miracle itself.

You deserve better, he’s convinced of that. You deserve someone who loves you from the start, someone who won’t hurt you the way that he did. Someone that had more stable relationships, less commitment issues, less fear of opening himself to anyone. Someone who doesn’t avoid his feelings just because he doesn’t know what to do with them. You deserve better, and he wasn’t it.

When you pulled away from Calum’s embrace, you couldn’t help but notice how Ashton’s eyes had lost their spark. He quickly covered it once he caught you staring, and planted a fake smile on his lips. After some small talk, he excused himself “host stuff” he said, and just like that he left the group.

Throughout the night, Ashton came and went. Never once did he meet your gaze while you were with the others. But you caught him staring from afar a few times, quickly averting his gaze the moment they met yours.

Nobody else seemed to notice, but it was eating you alive. All your insecurities came flooding in. ”Did you do something wrong? Maybe he just likes you through a screen. Was it something you said? Why does he hate you again? What did you do to make him hate you again?”

The thoughts were too much. You needed air.

You excused yourself from the group and made your way upstairs where you know there’s a big window leading up to a balcony. Right now you needed the comfort of the stars.

However, once you stepped on the balcony you realized a minute too late that you weren’t alone.

Ashton was leaning on the rails, he had a beer in one hand and his shirt want tucked inside his pants anymore. He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was gazing at the dark horizon that was in front of him.

He was mesmerizing. Truly a sight for sore eyes. You felt your heart thund loudly in your chest, but forced yourself to push that feeling away. He was your friend, or at least it seemed like it. He was your friend and nothing more, and you should be content with that. Why couldn’t your heart accept that?

“Hey, you”

His voice startled you for a second. You didn’t notice you were lost in your thoughts again. You looked at him and he was already looking at you over his shoulder.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked.

“I’ll sell them for a dollar” You answer stepping closer to him.

You could see his light smile as you leaned next to him. For a moment neither of you said anything, both of you afraid of saying the wrong thing. You were the first one to cave.

“Ditching your own party?”

Ashton chucked “Taking a break. I don’t remember it being that exhausting”

You nodded, expecting him to say more.

“And what about you? Are you ditching my party?”

An unexpected sigh left your lips and caught Ashton’s attention “No… just needed some air, I think”

“Are you okay?”

He couldn’t dare to mask the worry in his voice. You’ve been talking for months, he could tell when something wasn’t right and it hurted like hell to see you like that. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and protect you from whatever’s hurting you, but the reminder that he was once the one causing you pain made him stop before he could do anything.

“I will be” you answer, hoping it’ll be true.

“Y/N…”

“Are you okay?”

“Y/N.” Ashton said, knowing the game too damn well. You were averting the conversation towards him, that way you avoid talking about how you really feel.

“Ashton” you said just as firmly.

You stared into his eyes, neither of you willing to let the other win. Neither of you willing to look the other way. God, you knew his eyes were beautiful, but beautiful cuts short when he’s looking at you so intensely. For his part, it felt selfish, but he couldn’t look away. He’s never seem such sadness in someone’s eyes, it was heartbreakingly beautiful. Oh, how he wished he could take that all away.

Finally, you decided to break the spell. You looked away and softly said.

“I just wanted to look at the stars”

Ashton nodded. He remembers you mentioning how you loved the starling sky. How it made you feel less alone.

“Sorry” he said, looking at the night sky “But I guess this just isn’t the night”

You looked up and saw a bunch of stormy clouds over you. Thundering lightly as they hit each other.

“The sky is still up there and so are the stars” you breathe “Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean the can’t shine”

You lowered your gaze and met his again. You wanted to understand him, but he seemed so far away from your reach. You wanted to know why was he avoiding you again? You knew he was putting up some walls, and so were you. Maybe it was time to lowered them down.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Ashton was even faster by crashing his lips against yours.

His hands found your waits immediately, pulling you closer to him. Once you felt his touch you melted into him, into his lips, his hands, his everything. You opened your mouth and gave him permission to explore more of you, your hands flying to his hair and messing with it a little bit.

You were intoxicating. Ashton became obsessed with the way you tasted and how your lips molded into his perfectly. The little moan that left your mouth died in his lips and made him shiver. He’s sure he’s never heard such a beautiful sound before. Without breaking the kiss, he guided you to a wall and pressed you against it, letting your bodies pressed together, feeling every inch you could give.

It was messy, it was raw, it was everything you couldn’t say. It was perfect. Too perfect.

Ashton was the first one to pull away. You were both panting due to the lack of air, that didn’t stop you from smiling though. But Ashton’s face did.

“I’m sorry” he said, pulling himself away from you “I’m sorry”

“Ash” you breathe, not understanding.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have done that”

The panic in his voice was noticeable. His hands flew to his hair and ruffled it, turning away from you.

“This was a mistake. I should’ve never…” he wasn’t looking at you. He didn’t notice the tears spilling down your face “It should’ve never happen”

He finally turned around just to see your back disappearing into the house. Leaving him alone. He fucked up, again. And this time he might’ve fucked it up forever.

He felt the tears coming out when his back hit the wall, sliding down to the floor. He couldn’t hear his own cries, he couldn’t hear the muffling sounds from the party bellow. All he could hear was the sounds of you walking away and the thunder that came with them.

[fanfic-corner]

Slow Burn

You ever want to read a fic that is probably as long (or longer) than a book series, but not have the main love interests kiss until chapter 300? Then you probably have some issues, but I'm not a therapist, so here we go.

Stand By Me by whelvenwings on AO3. (31,252 words).

Tags: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Post-Apocalypse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Slow Dancing, Smut, First Kiss, Canon-Typical Violence, Touch-Starved Dean, Love Confessions.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester has been alone for a long, long time. When he and Castiel happen to find each other - a couple of survivors in a world that’s been all but wiped clean - Dean’s looking for his brother; Castiel is looking for something to look for. They stick together, because neither of them much wants to be alone. They hate each other at first, of course. Dean hates Castiel for being weird and quiet and ironic and antagonistic and proud. Castiel hates Dean for being blunt and reckless and coarse, for drinking, for refusing to talk about how he feels and just pretending everything is fine. Most of all, they hate themselves and each other just for being alive. What right do they have to be alive? No one else seems to be. But against his own will, Dean starts to notice things about Castiel that he likes. Starts to hope that Castiel might like him, too. And together, they start to fight for a world where they're both alive - and that's a good thing.

Notes: One of the first fics I ever read, and one of my faves! The ending was slightly unsatisfying, but not so much that I would drop a star.

Angel's Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseofthefallenone on AO3. (389,271 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe, Wingfic, Hurt/Comfort, Wing Kink, Slow Build, Slow Burn.

My Rating: 5 stars. (If I could give it more, I would).

Description: But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Notes: I would be lying if I said I didn’t read all these slow burn fics just so I could rec this. I would also be lying if I said this wasn’t my favourite fic of all time. The pining is so intense it is practically unbearable to read. Honestly, I don’t care if you think it is too long or it isn’t really your thing; I would rec this to anyone with ears. I will still be reccing this in Hell. It is absolutely phenomenal.

a turn of the earth by mishcollin on AO3. (95,274 words).

Tags: Time Travel, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, POV Dean Winchester, Alteration of s10 lore, Homophobic Language, Smut, Pining Dean, Preseries Dean, Mutual Pining.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run. Frigging fantastic.

Notes: An absolutely excellent plot, which is excellently written, and is somehow simultaneously angsty and adorable.

Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison on AO3. (68,689 words).

Tags: Romantic Comedy, Firefighter Dean, Professor Castiel, Weddings, Misunderstandings, High School AU, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Sam and Jess are getting married and Dean couldn’t be any happier for them. Honestly, they’re kind of disgustingly perfect for each other and Dean’s pretty damn excited about staying with them the week before the wedding. He’s Sam’s best man, of course, and he doesn’t even mind that Jess has her own best man to share in all the organisational duties. The more the merrier, right?Except Dean must have done something to epically piss off the universe because Jess’s best man just happens to be Castiel friggin’ Novak. He’s got even hotter since High School, but apparently no friendlier and if Cas wants to spend the week pretending like they’ve never met before? Fine. Two can play at that game.

Notes: Jesus Christ, I have not read a single fic which sums up exactly how stupid Dean and Cas can be sometimes. I loved it.

the cost of a thing by quiettewandering on AO3. (74,198 words).

Tags: Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake Marriage, Human Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Touch-Starved Castiel, Mutual Pining, Jealous Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Depressed Castiel, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: 16 months ago, Cas became human.12 months ago, Cas left the bunker and a broken-hearted Dean behind. Now they must work a case together, where married couples are dying mysterious deaths and the only way to earn the neighbors' trust is by pretending to be married. Slowly, Dean finds that he loves being in a relationship with Cas, fake or not, and Cas finds his loneliness retreating, despite the harsh reality looming right around the corner. As Dean and Cas navigate this fake, but all too real, relationship, can they find the monster that is on a mysteriously motivated killing spree before it’s too late?

Notes: So cute! All the angst! My favourite trope! (So many exclamation marks!)

In All Your Borrowed Finery by vanishingact on AO3. (67,950 words).

Tags: Winged Dean Winchester, Winged Sam Winchester, Winged Castiel, Winged Gabriel, Spells & Enchantments, Hunters & Hunting, Case Fic, Harpies, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor and Smut and Angst, Wingfic, Fanart. My Rating: 5 stars. Description: Dean finds an interesting symbol in Kevin's angel tablet notes and, against Sam's counselling, uses it in the heat of battle with a pair of angelic assassins. Side effects include pain, disorientation, and uncontrollable new appendages for the Winchesters. A disgruntled Castiel and a delighted Gabriel show up to help. Hunting (and life) gets interesting when wings are involved.  Notes: Okay this was literally adorable and you can not convince me otherwise. Every time I read a fic with everyone’s favourite archangel, I miss him just a bit more. (This fic is slightly more Sabriel than Destiel, but only by a little).

In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Elsewhere by RhymePhile on AO3. (33,953 words).

Tags: Modern Setting AU, Teenage AU, High Scool AU, Romance, Best Friends, First Love, First Kiss, Slow Build, Minor Violence, Bullying, Homophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dean Winchester, Texas, Slow Burn, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, No Sex, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Raised Separately, Mary Winchester Lives, Artist Castiel, Nerd Castiel, Grieving Castiel, Jock Dean Winchester.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: It's 1995, and Castiel's high school years are destined to be difficult: home-schooled until eighth grade, he is awkward, shy, and socially inept. The weird kid with the funny name would rather isolate himself and draw in his sketchbook than deal with the constant bullying he faces every day. Things only get worse in his junior year when he excels in home economics class, leading the captain of the baseball team, Alastair, to start taunting him for being gay.Then new student Dean Winchester arrives at Flour Bluff High School, sharing many of Castiel's classes. Castiel has seen his type before -- handsome, athletic, arrogant, and sure to be the most popular kid in school. But Castiel eventually learns that he and Dean have more in common than he thought, and they form an unlikely friendship.

Notes: Pretty cute, and I did enjoy reading it. Not sure why like half the slow burn fics are set in a high school, but hey.

'Star Wars is Overrated' by leftdragonpainter on AO3. (38,186 words).

Tags: Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Pining, Drinking, Writer Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Neighbours, Swearing, Winchester Logic, Big Brother Gabriel, Clueless Dean, College Student Sam, Awkward Dates, Slow Burn, Injured Sam, Emotional Constipation, Angst, Confessions, Smut, Drunk Texting, Love Confessions, Temporary Amnesia, Angst and Humor.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: When Dean Winchester turned sixteen he was disappointed by the words that appeared on his chest. He never expected that it would take so much to find his soulmate. He never expected to not remember meeting them...

Notes: Every time I thought I knew what was gonna happen in this fic, something completely different happened. I think I have whiplash (but I love it!).

The Elysium High by EllenOfOz on AO3. (44,768 words).

Tags: Post-Apocalypse AU, Los Angeles, Dystopia AU, Angels are Dicks, Addict Sam Winchester, Recreational Drug Use, Witch Sam Winchester, Detective AU, Confused Castiel, Drugged Sex, Slow Burn, Cyborg Castiel.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: In the not-too-distant future, climate change has wreaked havoc on the city of Los Angeles. When sea levels rose, and the Los Angeles Basin began to flood regularly like many coastal areas around the world, the population of the city moved up, off the ground and into the scrapers. Many years later, the city is divided into three rough zones: the Topzone, where the very wealthy live in the sunlight; the Midzone, where those of the less-well-off population live amid the flying traffic, the smog and their coffee addictions; and the Groundzone, what's left at close to ground level—dim, grimy and occasionally very wet. Sam and Dean Winchester are drug investigators in the LAPD. During a bust, Dean is saved by Castiel, one of the mysterious Angels, the elite fighting unit of the LA City Council. When Castiel insists on taking Dean to Paradise because he says they have work for him, Dean has little choice but to go along. But when a new drug, “Elysium”, hits the scene, people all over the city start dying. The brothers and Castiel must work out where the drug is coming from and stop its spread before it's too late.

Notes: There was nothing wrong about this fic, it just wasn’t really my cup of tea. I found the fic that it reminded me of though; I Know A Place by whelvenwings. It is fairly similar, but in my opinion a tad better.

So there we go: slow burns! And if you’re thinking, ‘Lina, where are all the ridiculously long ones? I want them to have their first kiss 300 chapters in?’ just know that I do not have the patience or the time for that. Mostly the patience. Okay, maybe I avoided them because they make me want to smash my phone. Whatever. Another day, maybe.

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 4X19 Jump the Shark

Oh hey is this the illegitimate brother plotline

boy I love me some sweet sweet ANGST

whelp she's fucking dead

picture of JOHN?

Sam's peacefully brushing his teeth and Dean's Not a Morning Person

boy he's having a bad morning

to be fair, living out of the car is kinda not fun either

"I'm his son" Dean: I'm gonna fUCKING KIL-

he's..premed?

they're going to ruin his life too aren't they, Aren't The-

Dean is taking this really well

I mean he did get the brunt of John's Issues, so I get it, yike

ASDFPIHP them discussing their dad's ~sex life~ is very funny though

Dean was...preteen? when this kid was born? Sam was under ten definitely

Dean Please

No that's your Actual Brother guys PLEASE

hunting accident "ah fair enough"

"who is a nuclear family these days" FEELS SO LOADED

Dean...Dean please don't fUCKING KILL HIM DEAN

THE IMPALA NOOO

"he took you to a baseball game" IDSFHAPF

He's Trying not to CRY OH MY GOD NO WAIT

Sam resonates with the away from college thing oh NO

Dean is trying SO HARD not to snap

at least he's...trying..to keep adam out

corpse snatching => HEY LOOK IT's THE BONE STEALING WIT-

I think I need to stop being online jesus christ

the [both sigh] was so good

well...that's a lot of blood

How the hell do you break it to your illegitimate brother that you're ~technically Wanted by the FBI

at least he's not an idiot

HE'S SO MUCH YOUNGER THAN THEY ARE

I mean obligatory dead mom

"do i get a say in this?" "NO!"

no..no SAM DEAN HAS A POINT

Middle sibling + younger sibling gang up on elder

"have u thought about eternity" "bro i've literally been to hell Idk what to tell u"

Dean doing it solo but Sad is...:(

Oh he worked the old case, that's neat

"so it's over for you" welllllll

OO THE TRUCK SHOT WAS COOL

dean + long dark coat truthing tonight HE LOOKS G O O D

it wants revenge

YOU FUCKERS AND YOUR REVENGE BELA WAS R I G H T

and Adam Instantly wants revenge, you sir are definitely a Winchester

"it's life" WELL IT SHOULDn'T BE

the stupid isolationism I hate it

NO GO CONNECT WITH PEOPLE KRIPKE WHY

Sam's becoming his dad, and Dean isn't

...SAM WHAT THE FUCK

DAD MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT DO RIGHT BY YOU

HIS GODDAMN GRIEF SPIRAL GOT BOTH OF YOU

LET HIM BE NORMAL! HAPPY! IT IS TOO LATE FOR YOU RIGHT NOW(NOT ALWAYS)(Also very close to the thing with zachariah in placement(eye emojis) BUT LEAVE HIM ALONE!

I do appreciate Dean Eldest Sibling'ed it up even if he didn't like the kid/was jealous. Goddammit I wish we got connection in this stupid show

I was expecting a jump scare but somehow the squish is worse

sOn oF aBitcH

Ah FUCK NOT ADAM TOO

I do like the little angel Icon though, that's what's Dean's way out

Ghouls is a racist term?what????

no john winchester was 100% a monster

ah it was their father

yada yada father killing circle idk

YAY! DEAN'S INGENUITY IS BACK!

Ghoul!mom is really really good. I liked Scared Adam better though

the slicing sam scene is BRUTAL jesus christ

So...John got his own son killed in the end...

SERIOUSLY HE WAS TERRIBLE

Dean JESUS CHRIST

awww caring Dean is nice

AWW HUNTER'S FUNERAL

"Adam's in a better place" :(

Dean tried to fit himself into the Dad box, Sam's actually him

"you take it any way you want" oh for FUC- HE- I-

he looked so Sad, so like...he's stopped idolizing him

jesus christ.

boy there's gonna be overlap ok here we go.

1. poor dean. Ok couple things: 1) he elder sibling'ed it SO HARd! he didn't even like Adam, but he still tried to keep him safe(I think). he gave him a hunter's funeral! I just. It was nice to see. It was also INCREDIBLY painful to hear the realization of "you were always like dad, I never could be" and the fact that he didn't even see it as a good thing anymore? fUCK man, that huRT me. Dean tried so hard to be something he wasn't, he got probably the brunt of the abuse(because he didn't measure up to that metric like Sam always would), and in the end all it got him was...just. so much pain. Like it felt like John left his Broken children behind to get a new one, and just turned them into his quest for revenge. It was SO So fucked

Hey actually speaking of

2. AM I SUPPOSED TO LIKE BEING A HUNTER/JOHN? WHAT HTE FUCK?

YALL ALREADY MARTYRED HIM BUT UR MAKING HIM WORSE?

LIKE ok listen. John's kinda set up as the ideal of hunting. They martyred him! And I was halfway sold provided they didn't mention him again. Then! he did this thing where he abandoned his kids, seeing them only as tools to fulfill his quest for revenge, literally broke them(that too late thing+zachariah saying "it's in your blood" when really it was just trained from a young age), got a NEW family he treated a lot better. I just. I have...NO idea how I'm supposed to see him as a good guy here. Maybe I just kin Dean, or his plight is WAY more sympathetic(it is, Sam is kinda pissing me off), but John's just...coming off worse and worse and they KEEP doing it!

Also! this whole cycle of revenge thing! about how if you keep taking an eye for an eye, everyone ends up blind! they barely escaped this time, and I think this was the second revenge plot that I can think of with MONSTERS alone! it was a BIG theme! Like!! hunting sucks! revenge makes you end up in worse places! it's like this one episode was made to show how SHIT hunting was!

wait who wrote this

Dabb+lofflin. The hunting sucks always comes from-

this GODDAMN INCONSISTE-

3. Fuck John Winchester

4. Individualism. Ok this is a big one. Alongside the whole revenge plot thing(which is BIG, and a hunting sucks), this one drove home the sheer individuality of hunting. But while some of the writers see that as Badass, this one made it seem lonely, and painful. Like the flip side to American Individualism is American Chronic Loneliness. I know this one was used to process the ennui of the post recession/post 9/11 time, and it's doing very well for that, but it kinda ends up like this show is EVERYONE'S therapy all at once! the gang's all here! and we're gonna traumatize you in the process as well.

EDIT: and yeah yeah yada yada american individualism is King and then so is it’s accompanying loneliness in the post 9/11 post war in iraq post recession world(we were not having fun in 08/09)

and I get that this show is the writer’s therapy and whatever

(I just thing this is phrased better)

5. bring him back. Connect! Look. I know it breaks the core ethos of this episode. But having Weird Esoteric Hunter siblings would have been SO FUNNY!

give me more sibling content! Sam+Adam teaming up against the Eldest Sibling Dean WAS SO FUNNY! I WANT MORE OF THAT

6. SAM WHAT THE FU-. Look. I hate John. I very much hate John. They set up the Sam/Dean dichotomy in regards to John first episode, and Sam acting more like an ass+like his dad is. Not making me like him. Also I feel like this was written to sympathize with Dean. Which makes the finale even more ironic, I feel.

7. Listen. Listen. One of you has to keep track of continuity. Like I know this becomes a WAY bigger problem later in the series, but if a certain writer wants to process/examine a certain part of the Life/Story(and they should, they set up a lot of interesting stuff), they have to keep track! Because then the show becomes everything all at once.

Like this show has ALREADY started feeling like fanfic of itself, where it just kinda does whatever it wants with its own concepts. And the concepts are GREAT! but you can TELL how inconsistent it is, even in the kripke era

like it ends up being Study of X, Riff on X! and I think that's where the inconsistency comes from. It's also why it's so fucking Excellent in places.

whelp this was a lot holy hell.

OH AND ONE MORE THING!

Bela didn't fit the narrative. That's why they didn't like her. I said at the beginning that an Int'l art thief does NOT fit the vibe of "grungy Angsty American Midwestern gothic" and I was right. With the lucifer story and the vibe she didn't fit, and so they just killed her as foreshadowing, and only used her like that. God I wish they'd riffed on her, especially because her callouts were all completely correct

we're Bela Salting again

listen she was preppy Jack Sparrow with some spiritualism, how dare you tell me not to like her.

[heechulhamster]

The Truth You Can’t Hide VI

KIM JUNMYEON (SUHO) x Fem Reader

Chapter 6 [The Truth You Can’t Hide MASTERLIST]

1 - 2 - 3 -  4 - 5 - 6 - 7   ongoing

You did it so well for six years. You’ve hid your son from the biggest threat of his life. But one mishap led to the biggest secret in your life being face to face with the man you’ve kept him away from all these years - his father.

Mafia!AU, Angst.

“What do you want from her?” Junmyeon spoke with a voice full of held back temper. 

Yixing’s door was barely even open, he took time in analyzing who was this man who just loudly knocked on his door at nine in the evening. 

“Junmyeon?” Yixing asked, as he put on his glasses that hang on the collar of his tank top. Junmyeon didn’t even bother to answer, still standing firm on his ground in the rising atmosphere left hanging by his question. “No bulky bodyguards now?” 

Junmyeon was further irked by the chuckle that came out of Yixing’s lips. “I believe I asked a question, Zhang.” 

Yixing peeked his head from the doorway into the halls of his apartment floor. And after noticing that there wasn’t anyone to see the two of them, he spoke again. “You should come inside.” 

Junmyeon tried to refuse yet he figured out that Yixing wouldn’t answer his question right and upfront, so he welcomed himself inside when the latter stepped away from the doorway. He was barely even five steps in before he spoke again. 

“Zhang, what do you want from Y/N?” His voice stern and low, as if trying to assert dominance and power over the other - despite knowing that Yixing himself isn’t one to be threatened. 

“Why should I answer your question, Junmyeon? Why are you here in my house at this hour of the night?” Yixing replied, a smirk displayed on his lips taunting Junmyeon even more. Yixing then walked to the small bar of his spacious bachelor’s pad and grabbed the half consumed whiskey and a shot glass. “Would you want a drink?”

“I’m not here to play games with you, Yixing.” Junmyeon took three large steps toward Yixing, his voice few volumes higher. “What are you doing back in my life, what’s your reason? I swear to God if you’re using her as one of your pawns in your game again-” 

“In your life, Junmyeon? I’m not meddling with your life. I didn’t even know she was your ex until I dropped her off your house.” Yixing answered with an amused face, obviously entertained with Junmyeon’s display of cluelessness. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Junmyeon. I have no business to deal with you anymore. The case has long been closed and your father has rested in his peace for a while now, what made you think that this is about you?” 

Junmyeon was almost taken aback by Yixing’s upfront expression, no hint of lying nor games evident in his emotions nor the tone of his voice. 

“Honestly, Junmyeon. Are you here as the CEO of your business or as a jealous ex-boyfriend?” Yixing asked before he drank down the contents of his shot glass, the way his hands swiftly put it down the granite counter resulted to a sound heard all over the silence of the room.

The question actually put Junmyeon’s mind out of pace, as he felt too transparent to the one he was supposed to intimidate. It was part of Yixing’s job, after all. But was he that obvious? That he was able to extract a question that Junmyeon was asking to himself and was highly in denial of the blaring answer to. 

“I figured.” Yixing responded with a short scornful laugh to Junmyeon’s silence. 

“You know, on the long expanse of the hearing and all the background checking I did in your whole family, I don’t remember ever seeing a son of yours.” Yixing introduced another topic that’s been bugging him for a while. “And that’s what like, five years ago? How come do you have a son that’s almost 7 years old?”

“It’s none of your business.” Junmyeon replied quickly. 

“But it could be, soon.” Yixing answered. A bitter taste filled Junmyeon’s throat and his mood immediately turning sour on Yixing’s implication. 

Could he bear another man acting as a second father to Jaejin? He was jealous yet thankful for Jinki being there, but he knew very well that he could’ve been a better father than anyone given that he knew that he had a child. So could he stomach Jaejin growing up with another man? 

Could he see you be happy again with someone that’s not him? 

“Junmyeon, I’m not after anything malicious nor do I have untoward intentions about Y/N. I like her, I know you’re well aware of how great of a woman she is. It was unexpected for me to find out that she has a child, who you father. But my intentions with her is pure, and you have nothing to worry about. Whether regarding your business, your name, or her feelings.” Yixing patted Junmyeon’s shoulder, an action that shocked the latter. 

“That is unless if you want to get back with her, a judgement and a choice that only she could make.” 

And Yixing’s last words reverberated in all of the chambers of Junmyeon’s mind all throughout his ride home. Eventually seeping in his consciousness deep enough to keep him awake at night. It got him wondering if there are still the odds of you choosing to get back with Junmyeon again. 

He remembers his utmost devastation when you left him, citing the difference in interests and that you grew apart from each other due to spending too much time apart among other reasons. Junmyeon spent weeks, and even months leading to years of blaming himself for losing you. Not knowing your real reasons, he always thought that he should’ve prioritized the guiding light of his life over the corporate interests that he wasn’t fully agreeing on. 

Junmyeon just thought that if your real reason for leaving him was finding out about his corrupted double life, did you still love him when you left? And if so, is there any string of such affection left in your heart until now? Did you just try and disregard the weight of being apart with other things, the same way Junmyeon did? He distracted himself with multitudes of work to try and convince himself that he doesn’t wish for you to have not left at all. Junmyeon trained his mind to shut off all the loneliness, the longing, and eventually lock away all the love left for you in the most secluded part of his heart. 

But the truth still stands - that love is still there. No matter how many distractions he tries to flood his days with, how much he try and stop himself from feeling anything, he never really tried to move on. And now that you’re back, with a child of his own blood, the love that he tried so hard not to remember now just demands to be felt, yet again. 

Your hand was firm and decisive on the pen as you signed along the dotted lines and on your printer name. You’ve made up your mind, and you know very well that this is the right thing to do. 

“The process wouldn’t take that long as Jaejin didn’t have a father stated on his birth certificate. It would be easy for us to defend using both of your statements that you two were only apart during the child’s birth.” Atty. Kim reassured as you put down the shiny metal red fountain pen. 

“The court wouldn’t be needing a DNA test anymore?” Sehun curiously asked across you, as he sits beside Junmyeon. 

“No, as long as Mr. Kim recognizes Jaejin as his son, which he already did in his affidavit, there wouldn’t be any questions. And besides, I believe it would be easy to prove that the two of them were in a relationship by the time Jaejin was conceived.” Junmyeon’s attorney explained once more. 

“Another thing, Mr. Kim. I know there’s no immediate need for this, but I suggest that you make revisions in your will and testaments. Probably put Jaejin as your recipient?” The attorney spoke once more, his left hand realigning his glasses on his old eyes. 

“No.” You interrupted quickly, shocking the other three in the room. “I believe that we need to discuss about it first, right Junmyeon?” You smiled back at the familiar face across the oakwood table. 

“I think the will can follow soon after, I don’t think there’s a need for it anytime soon.” Junmyeon responded to the attorney and smiled reassuringly back to you, indicating that he understood your underlying concern. 

“So it’s official.” Junmyeon remarked, a wide and satisfied grin painted on his face as his hand lingered on the papers atop of the table. “By all means, everyone including the law now recognizes my son as, well, my son.” He gave off a nervous yet obviously joyful laugh. And if you look closer in his eyes, you’re sure that he’s close to shedding a tear or two. 

“As if anyone would doubt that, the two of you look like the same person in two different times.” Sehun joked as all of you stood up and accompanied the lawyer outside of the library. 

“I’ll inform you and Mr. Kim once the papers are official. Thank you.” You shook hands with the tenured lawyer as he made his way down the halls and eventually out of the Kim mansion. 

“You look happy.” You said to Junmyeon as you walked side by side towards the living area, the both of you closely followed by Sehun behind you. 

“Of course I am. I’ve waited so long for this. Not that a piece of paper matters, but I’m officially his father.” His cheekbones raised as he smiled, a joy that’s more evident in the shine of his eyes. 

“You’ve always been his father, Jun. I don’t have the right to take that away from you.” You said reassuringly as you caressed his left arm with your right hand, an action that made him react as if he’s been electrified. “You okay?” 

“No, I’m just. I’m just really happy and I think so much energy is in me right now.” He answered with a laugh as he shrugged off. “But thank you, really. For giving me a chance to be in Jaejin’s life.” Junmyeon spoke again, to which you only answered a smile that he quickly understood. 

To say that Junmyeon was over the moon since Jaejin recognized him as his father was an understatement. It was evident in all his actions that Junmyeon had a new driving force in living his everyday life. You noticed that his face lit up differently, and he wore a smile every waking day as he makes his way to Jaejin’s room. It has already been a habit of his to wake up earlier and be the one to wake up his son, saying it’s a good way to get Jaejin used of his presence in the younger’s life. As if they’re not inseparable as of the moment. 

“Do you have plans for dinner? I was thinking if we could go out with Jaejin?” Junmyeon introduced the topic as you walked along expanse of the living room. 

“I actually have plans with Yixing tonight.” You answered rather silently, knowing that there was an ongoing rift between the two. 

“He actually wants to meet Jaejin…” You stopped in the middle of your sentence to sense his mood. 

“...that is if you don’t mind, of course. I wouldn’t bring Jaejin if it makes you uncomfortable.” You continued as Junmyeon’s face was void of any reaction.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure Jaejin would want to meet whoever you’re dating. You know, sons get territorial over their moms - usually.” Junmyeon attempted a laugh but it was obviously empty sounding. And you weren’t sure what to feel about it. 

“Okay, if you say so.” You said with a smile, searching his face for any second thoughts. But instead, his face melted into a soft warm smile. “I’ll see you later. I left a small present on your office desk, should go check it out later.” And you didn’t even think twice to put an innocent peck on his cheek.

The contact didn’t even last for more than a split second, yet the resurgence of the memory of how soft his cheeks were flooded your senses. How it started like that, chaste kisses on the cheek after he drops you off at your dorm. The quick pecks each time he does a little favor such as opening a stubborn bottle of soda. It was the very same kiss on the peak of his left cheek. And you could tell that he shared the same sentiment in the gloss that formed in his eyes. 

“I’ll go ahead, I need to get dressed and prepare Jaejin too.” You said in haste, not wanting to indulge in further nostalgia that flooded the atmosphere. And you were quick on your heels to turn and walk towards your room in the expanse of Junmyeon’s mansion.

Junmyeon was left standing there, with his younger cousin grinning mischievously behind him as he felt the joyously painful flashbacks that his cousin felt. After all, Sehun knows him well. 

Sehun was there when Junmyeon was almost passed out drunk at the bar a two months after you left him. It took more than a month for the fact that you left him to sink in Junmyeon’s senses. He flooded himself with work, aided by the fact that his father’s physique has been continuously weakening so he had to be in charge. Sehun saw how Junmyeon busied himself until the wee hours of the night to have no chance of remembering that you’re gone. 

Sehun was Junmyeon’s accomplice and removing all traces of your name in the company records - not in result of bitterness but to keep you safe. The company was already in hot waters few months after you left, and Junmyeon needed to make sure that you wouldn’t be involved in any shit that may happen in case they scavenge all existing legalities that the company has. 

Sehun knew how much Junmyeon struggled with his loss, and how much he wanted you back - how much he wanted you still. 

“What was that, hyung? Don’t tell me you’re letting yourself lose your mother and son to that Chinese bastard?” Sehun tapped the older’s shoulder as he made sure that you faded away in the background, unable to hear his mocking. 

“What, who said I’m losing my family to Yixing?” Junmyeon tried to fake arrogance, but his facade was sheer to all senses. 

“Why would you just let him meet Jaejin? First you let him date Y/N and now even build a relationship with your child?” Sehun asked in curiosity, knowing that Junmyeon was never one to just give up without putting up a fight.

“What do you expect me to do, boss her around and keep her from doing what she wants to do? Jaejin already knows that I’m his dad, I have nothing to worry about.” Junmyeon answered. But it almost felt like he was convincing himself instead. 

“So what, you’ll just settle on this… being friends, or co-parents, whatever pretentious shit you call it with her and just focus on Jaejin?” Sehun advanced to Junmyeon’s front as they walked towards the gardens. “And don’t ever try to tell me that you’re over her because I bet all my car and limbs that you aren’t.” 

“No, of course not.” Junmyeon said with a smile. “It’s my duty as Jaejin’s father to try my best to give him a whole, loving family. I know that there’s an expectation in him for us to be the common setup of a family. And I couldn’t let him down, no.”

“Then what are you doing? Why aren’t you doing anything to try and win her back now?”

“She left me for a reason, a strong and compelling reason that I understand. And as much as I don’t want it to, that reason still exists. I don’t deserve her back just yet. If I’m going to try and win her back, I need to be the man she deserves not the Junmyeon she left.” He said with a smile plastered on his face, a peek of hope and wonder if you’ll actually take him back by then. 

Sehun just stood beside him as Junmyeon sat on one of the wooden chairs in the grandiose veranda, still struggling to comprehend what the other just implicated. 

“Speaking of that, Sehun, I need to talk to your dad.” Junmyeon spoke changing in a more serious and stern tone.

And somehow, Sehun understood how Junmyeon will fix that reason - how he’ll get rid of the illicit business he’s been cursed with. 

Jaejin was in Yixing’s hands as you all went down his car, with you carrying the grocery bags filled with food you’re set to cook in his apartment. The both of you opted for a more laid-back date as your son was coming. Yixing also thought it would be a good idea for them to play console in his pad. 

“You need help in the bags?” Yixing asked, as Jaejin sat his head on the man’s shoulders whilst he carried the boy effortlessly with one hand. 

“No, no. I could manage, you already have my heavy boy.” You joked with a chuckle, as you both entered the elevator to his floor. 

Jaejin was quick to power back up once all of you settled inside, energized by the promise of the vivid game of Mario Kart that awaited him at the living room. You’re not sure if he understands who Uncle Yixing really is or his role to your life. But Jaejin, being the polite and courteous kid you raised him to be, was quick to trust anyone you introduce to him with a smile. 

“I’ll just prepare the spaghetti okay, dear? Be a good boy here with Uncle Xing and you’ll get a lot of meatballs.” You said, trying to enthuse and calm the child in the new uncharted territory that is Yixing’s apartment

“Yes, mama.” Jaejin answered with his cheeky smile, the very copy of Junmyeon’s grin. And it stirred up a sense of unease in your stomach. 

You shot a smile to Yixing’s direction, and he nodded reassuringly. So you stood up and made your way into the kitchen to prepare dinner. 

The root of the unease was easy to pinpoint, Yixing and Jaejin looked unfitting with each other. Yes, they shared smiles and giggles, but someone already looks perfect when carrying your son. You know that there exists an image so faultless that no “good” or “just right” would compare. Junmyeon’s dynamic with Jaejin, how the way they look is already an affirmation that they have the same blood. And how, despite years of being unaware of each other’s existence, they move the same. There was no denying that Jaejin was Junmyeon’s child. 

The savory smell of tomato sauce and meat filled the humble spaces of Yixing’s obviously-bachelor apartment. One of your best, and Jaejin’s undisputed favorite. Which you deliberately chose to prepare in case of the small chance that he’ll show toddler tantrums. 

“Because you’re a good handsome boy, you get all the spaghetti you want. Is that good?’ You asked the boy in front of you, his small hands quickly letting go of the Nintendo Switch controller at the sight of the red pasta stuffed bowl in your hands. 

“Mama’s spaghetti!” He cheered in the most juvenile of tones. 

Catching Yixing’s eyes as he adores the display of innocence in front of him, it made you smile. Yixing has a warm heart and he obviously loves kids. He was sincere in expressing how much he wanted to meet Jaejin, and you’re glad that Junmyeon gave the go signal. 

All three of you were covered in laughter and fun as you finished the food as you sat on the carpeted floor. Yixing was feeling comfortable enough in the scenario to unnoticeably hold your hand while Jaejin plays solo on the console. But then you quickly remember that you have a smart and observant 6-year old child in the room. 

“Uncle Xing, why are you holding my Mama’s hand?” Jaejin even crossed his arms in a display of displease. And you remember sons’ tendencies to get a little bit territorial with their mothers. 

“It’s okay, baby.” You try and calm down your protective boy. “Uncle Xing is mama’s friend.” 

“No, but you told me only people who love each other only hold hands.” Jaejin answered with a pout, and now you regret explaining teenagers who held hands in a park back in LA that way. 

“Jaejin-ah, you see, Uncle Xing likes your Mama. That’s why I’m holding her hand because I like her.” Yixing tried to explain with a wishfully childlike tone. “One day you’ll understand when you like a girl, you’ll hold her hand too.”

“But, does my Mama like you?” Jaejin cracked the tough question himself, and you feel both eyes on you, vying for your answer.

“Yes, baby, Mama likes Uncle Xing. That’s why I’m letting him hold my hand, it’s okay.” You said with a smile to the both of them. 

“But what about Dad? Doesn’t Mama like Dad, too? Aren’t you supposed to love Dada? I want you to love Dada because he loves me too.” Jaejin fired a barrage of questions and demands that are natural to a child, but hard to give for you adults. 

Jaejin’s pout grew larger, and his eyes started watering - obviously upset with what he heard. Maybe he had this notion, whether it be from a book or a show that he watched that parents are supposed to love each other. Well, that’s usually the case, but sometimes there are exemptions. And your setup just happened to fall on one of them. 

“Jaejin-ah, your Mama loves you, and I’m sure your Dada loves you too. That’s what important right?” Yixing ushered the child onto his lap as he tried to console the disheartened child. 

“No… I want Mama to be with Dada. So they can love me.” And that was when the water gates broke and Jaejin started crying, and your heart broke too.

He was so young, so young to experience the heartbreak that is of separated parents. And it broke you even further that you’re the reason of such pain. But then again, your morals redound you to your reasons. And it was better to have Jaejin’s heart broken by the truth rather than live a life that’s trailed to wrongdoings. And the what if’s and maybes started playing in your mind, a broken record that etched its way into the chambers of your mind. Echoing like a ghost that haunted your conscience and your reality. 

What if there was a way to not break your child’s heart? What if there’s a possibility of you getting back with Junmyeon after all? What if you and Junmyeon tried? 

It took half an hour to calm Jaejin down from his woes. You exchanged worried and apologetic looks from Yixing, as he blamed himself from pulling the trigger to Jaejin’s sadness. But he tried to be as realistic as he could, he knew that keeping the truth from Jaejin would hurt him more in the long run. And it’s a mindset that you understood.

“I’m sorry for that, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” Yixing rubbed his nape in embarrassment. 

“No, I understand why you did it. I’m going to have to break it into him one way or another, maybe it was just unexpected for it to go down like this.” You attempted an empty laughter, an attempt of reassurance to the worried man in front of you. 

“I hope Junmyeon wouldn’t go ballistic after I made his child cry.” Yixing attempted a joke. 

“I’ll be the one to explain it to him.” You smiled, as you caressed Jaejin’s sleeping form on the couch. Facedown as a result of all the energy he spent crying for the past half hour. The thing is Jaejin has always been a well behaved child, so the fact that he showed this demeanor is already indicative of how big of a deal it is to him. 

“Speaking of, can I ask you a favor?” You spoke once more to Yixing’s silent figure sitting unusually slouched beside you. Who answered a simple hum in curiosity of the favor you’re asking for. 

“Would you mind if I read… the case files? Or hearing transcripts, whichever you still have, from the Kim Shipping Lines case?” You walked on thin ice, not knowing how he’ll see the request as. 

“What for?” His forehead creased in confusion.

“Well, I need answers to my questions. The unbiased and unfiltered one, that is. And I know it’s only there where I can get such.” You explained. 

Yixing pursed his lips as he thought about the request, before his lips opened again in response. “Sure, let me get it for a while.” 

He stood up and went to his room, as you were left there with a sleeping Jaejin, nervous of what to expect in the case files. It could only lead to either of the two things, a retribution for Junmyeon’s name, or dousing more fuel to the fire that caused this mess ever since. 

With your bag filled with case files from a five year old case and Jaejin sleeping in your arms, you walk back to the front door. It was promptly opened by the househelp in Junmyeon’s mansion. And you swear you weren’t even five steps in the marble floored house when you heard a commotion seemingly coming from the gardens. 

“Ajumma, can you please take Jaejin upstairs? I need to check on what’s happening over there.” You gently and softly transferred Jaejin into one of the househelp’s arms, trying not to ruin the soundness of his sleep. 

Quickly making your way to the backyard gardens, you saw a figure that you wish you wouldn’t have ever seen. It just made things worse, even before you had the chance to turn a page in the case files that should’ve been his chance to mend things. 

“Junmyeon!” You called out in anger, and all pairs of eyes were suddenly in trained towards you. As Junmyeon, with fury imbedded in his eyes, still held the gun with shaking hands as he pointed it to his own friend Minseok - his face already bloody and bruised.

Junmyeon was delighted to see a photo album on his office desk, it was the small gift you were pertaining to earlier. It was a mix of emotions to see how the past 6 years unfolded for his dear son. Even seeing your pregnancy photos made his regrets and desire to have been there increase tenfold. How he wishes that he felt Jaejin’s tiny little kicks in your tummy while he was still inside. What a dream would it be to have been there, sharing your moment of labour with you. It guts him to think that you had to shoulder all the pain and hardships alone. He should’ve been there, he should’ve been the one to carry that weight - he could’ve been the best father, the best husband. 

“Wow, even as a newborn, you could already tell that Jaejin was going to be a good looking guy like you, ain’t it?” Sehun remarked enthusiastically as they flipped to a page that showed the still bloodied and closed eyed newborn baby. 

“How do you even see what a newborn would look like?” Minseok joked in return, as he sat on the other side of Junmyeon who’s silently admiring and treasuring the feeling of seeing these for the first time. 

“I mean, you could see the nose. And of course those cheeks, you could already see that Jaejin would look like a bunny.” Sehun replied. 

They quickly flipped through a few pages, until those of Jaejin’s first birthday was now shown. There weren’t a lot of people, only few of your workmates attended as you were just starting your life in LA.

But one picture caught Junmyeon’s eyes. 

He wasn’t expecting any familiar faces in the album, knowing that he doesn’t know a lot of people in LA. But there was an extremely familiar face, holding is then unknown son as the man held a toy in his other hand. You weren’t in the picture, but the background is still that of Jaejin’s first birthday party. Oddly, the stuffed toy was familiar to Junmyeon too. It was because he bought it, for the orphan child Minseok told him he was a benefactor to. 

And it was Minseok who carried his child, with a soft and jubilant expression painted on his face. 

“Wait, Minseok-hyung, isn’t that you?” Sehun remarked naively. Junmyeon didn’t move, neither did Minseok. 

Minseok knew, all this time. He knew that you and Junmyeon had a child, but he never said a word to his closest friend. The friend that he had since high school, the frat brother that he had in college - Minseok chose to be an accomplice in hiding the truth that Junmyeon deserved to know. 

“How did you know?” Junmyeon asked, still not facing the man on his right. His tone stern and threatening. 

Minseok wasn’t able to form any word, his silence an enough affirmation to Junmyeon that he is, indeed, aware of Jaejin’s existence - not that the picture isn’t enough proof.

“Since when did you know?” Junmyeon repeated, Sehun’s mouth dropped agape in the heightened tension around him. 

“I saw her in LA when she was pregnant. She told me the reason why she left, and she asked me to stay silent.” Minseok exhaled and spoke in a calm yet serious tone, standing firm on his ground and reason on why he hid the truth for so long. 

“You never planned to tell me?” It came out of Junmyeon’s mouth more of like a growl rather than a form of speech. 

“A promise is a promise, Jun.” Minseok remarked. 

“You were never going to fucking tell me!?” Junmyeon suddenly stood up, causing the chair behind him to fall down with a loud thud. “You saw how much I fucked up my life after she left, and all this time you knew that I had a child and you never told me?!” Junmyeon’s voice roared through the silence in the garden. Sehun already stood up to try and hold back Junmyeon’s agitation. 

“She had a reason.” Minseok tried to stay calm once more. 

“You didn’t even think I deserve to explain?! You made me look like a stupid fool all these years acting pointless and in haywire after my life fell into pieces and you’ll still have the guts to show yourself in my house, all these time?” Junmyeon’s anger was translated on the way his voice boomed. 

And just when Minseok tried to stand up, Junmyeon’s fist landed a hard punch on his right eye - producing a cut that quickly bled after contact. 

“YOU WERE ALMOST LIKE MY BROTHER!” Minseok was forced down to the floor after Junmyeon went for another strike, now on his lip. 

“Hyung!” Sehun appealed behind, trying to hold back Junmyeon’s angered physique that wanted to charge again to his old friend. 

Junmyeon stood back, and just as Sehun felt almost relieved - he saw Junmyeon ran three big steps to the bodyguard standing near them, pull the gun that sat on the latter’s holster and point it at Minseok. 

It all happened in a whim, a few seconds on standstill except for Junmyeon’s shaking hands unable to pull the trigger. 

That’s when your voice suddenly echoed from the mansion’s backdoor. “Junmyeon!” 

Junmyeon saw the anger, disgust, and disappointment all painted in your face. Your heavy breathing due to shock at the scenario seen before you got Junmyeon’s heart racing, knowing that all you see was him holding a gun against his friend, bruised and bloodied on the floor. He fucked up, again, harder than he ever did before. 

You took two deep breaths, trying to recuperate from the impact of the scandalizing image in front of you. “You just proved to me that I’m right. You’re a fucking monster, Kim Junmyeon.” 

And for the second time, he felt as if all of the weight in the world dawned on him as you turned your back and walked away from him - again. 

[red-pill-blue-pill]

I’ll take you with me. Keanu Reeves.

A/N: This is for the lovely @ringa-starr 💖Thanks for requesting. I hope you like it! 

side note: The reader is 15 in the beggining and 29 in the end. 

Summary: In the orphanage everyday was hell, then he arrived. 

Word Count: 3250.

Warnings: Child abuse!!!!

Your arm stung and you knew that was going to leave a bruise. It was nothing new, she always hit you, well, she hit everyone. 

She raised the long metal ruler again and swung it in the air, it whistled as it came down hitting you again, a loud smack echoing in the room. No one dared to stick up for you. They were all terrified of her.

At Staten Island’s orphanage this kind of abuse was the everyday life. Foster care was supposed to provide orphan children a chance at life but this was a living hell. That woman was pure evil. She was one of the caretakers assigned to watch over the children during the day. Her shift lasted eight endless hours.

No one cared about those children. Multiple complains had been filed out against her and the Social Services had allegedly looked over the case for the fifth time this year but it seemed someone told them to back off each time. 

Last week had been your fourth anniversary in the orphanage. Your parents died in a carcrash when you were eleven and, since you had no family around, the State had to take care of you. If you were honest with yourself, life was pure shit. You had gone from having a loving and caring family who you knew you could always rely on, to have nothing but countless beatings and feeling a loneliness that snuk around your heart and squeezed it more and more each day that went by.

Every child beared bruises on their body. Some had only a couple, some had their arms and torso covered. Even the three year olds had at least one. It was heartbreaking to see all those children suffering and knowing there was nothing you could do.

The door to the orphanage opened and a social worker came in with a boy, by his looks you could tell he was a couple of years older than you. His eyes darted nervously around the hall of the building. You could tell he was scared out of his mind and you felt sympathy for him, he didn’t know what he was getting into. 

The social worker left and he stood there, paralyzed as the infamous caretaker aproached him. 

“I’ll show you to your room.” her voice was stoic, no feelings in sight.

They walked past you and you couldn’t help but smile reassuringly at him, he returned the gesture with a sad smile of his own. The boy followed her around the building. His room was a dirty hole with two bunks. Moist covered the walls and the old wooden floor was almost black with dirt. 

“Everyone’s eating lunch in ten minutes. Leave your shit here and go downstairs.” she left him alone and went to supervise the dining room. 

You managed to sneak your way into the his door without being seen and mentally congratulated yourself, you had been perfectioning your tiptoeing tecnique for years. He was with his back turned to you, eyeing the room, trying to wrap his head around the situation he found himself into.

“Hi.” you said startling him a little bit.

“I didn’t hear you coming. Hello.” he smiled sadly again and extended his hand for you to shake it.

“I’m Keanu.” His grip on your hand was firm but soft.

“I’m Y/n” 

You stared at eachother for a second before he cleared his throat.

“So, tell me, what do you usually do around here?” 

You chuckled bitterly. “Survive.” 

He raised an eyebrow and swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry to put it like that but the sooner you know the better.” you raised your tshirt to reveal a black bruise that was forming on your side. “This is what you get here. You’re one of the oldest boys here so she’s not going to go easy on you.”

His eyes widened at the sight and his first instinct was to reach out and grace it softly with his hand, as if to check it was all real and not a weird ass dream. He was horrified and furious. How could someone do that to a child. You flinched and he apologized. 

You lowered your shirt. “We gotta go. She’s going to get mad if she checks and we’re not there.” 

He nodded and followed you silently, still processing what you had told him. You felt something tug at your heart. Maybe it was the loneliness giving your heart a break.

7 months later

Months went by. Keanu got the dynamics of the orphanage. When the beatings started he stayed silent, he didn’t try to be a hero. She took a liking in him, he was stronger than the other children and she loved to see him begging for her to stop, completely at her mercy. He could take more blows and so saved the hardest ones for him. It broke your heart. You would go in his room after those episodes to take care of the cuts and bruises she left on his body. He always did the same for you. You both even did it with the younger children. One would attend the bruises while the other read to them or played with the few toys they were allowed to have. It somehow also helped to heal your hearts, reminding eachother there was some kind of good in this world.

Each time he smiled sincerely was treasured in your heart. Seing him truly happy even if it was for a couple of minutes, and knowing it was because of you, made you think this was meant to be. Call it destiny, call it coincidence, but you were convinced Keanu and you had to meet eachother. The place wasn’t the best and you wished you could’ve just met at school, or maybe at a coffee shop, even at a shopping mall. But maybe it was the context that brought you two together to seek comfort in eachother.

The thought of him leaving in six months was breaking your heart, the thought of being on your own again was unbearable. You knew it was a selfish thought, if he had a chance to flee this place he obviously had to take it but you could only think about how you wouldn’t see him again. You wouldn’t see his beautiful smile or run your fingers though his soft hair again. The nights you snuck in his room and lied with him in the bed, whispering your fears and talking about what you were going to do when you left that place.

Of course you hadn’t talked about this with him, the last thing he needed was feeling guilty for going on with his life. You tried to push the thought aside to enjoy every moment you both had left.

5 months later.

A ray of sunshine lighted up the room and shone upon the pillow. You scrunched your face and turned away from the light. The small bed dipped under your weight as you moved. The warmth of the summer was starting to creep into the small rooms causing you to sleep over the covers. Soon it would be unbearable. An extra source of heat warmed your body. You slowly opened your eyes trying to adjust them to the light. The sight of a sleeping Keanu next to you warmed you heart. He looked so peaceful and relaxed. You reached out and pulled away the strands that fell over his soft face. He hummed in content and you couldn’t help but smile. 

He stretched and yawned “Good morning.” he said with that raspy sleepy voice that made you crazy. 

“Good morning sleepyhead.” You smiled fondly as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Have you slept well?” he mumbled against your head.

This was routine for you. His roommates were already used to your presence and the small talk developed into a full friendship with them. As to the relationship you had with him, well, you weren’t really sure. You knew he meant the world to you, he was everything you had but you didn’t have a clue what he thought about you. Of course you were his best friend and he loved you to death but maybe it was a different kind of love. You doubted it was the kind of love you felt for him but you were happy as long as he was by your side. 

Before you could answer one of his roommates groaned. “Oh my god guys. It’s eight o’clock in the morning, go be all lovey dovey somewhere else!” the bunk if your bed shook as he moved to cover his head with the pillow.

Keanu laughed and you blushed as you burried you head in his chest. “You’re just jealous Mike!” he shouted back between giggles.

When the giggles subsided he turned to you again. “So, how did you sleep?”

“Pretty well actually. You?” You face had already cooled down and you were looking up at his face. 

“I always sleep well when you’re around.” he flashed you a toothy smile and your heart fluttered at his words. It didn’t really matter if he was being serious or not. Suddenly you felt a pang in your heart. He’s leaving in one week. You cleared your throat and slid out of his embrace. “Uhm, I gotta go before the caretaker does her morning round. See you later.” 

He looked at you with a confused face at your sudden change of mood. “Okay.” he mumbled after you had left.

“Problems with your girlfriend?” Mike spoke again trying to tease him.

“Shut the fuck up Mike!”

-

You went down to have breakfast. Thankfully you had managed to sneak back into your room before she came around cheking. 

All the children were sitting around long tables. The youngest ones - that were three years old- laughed and messed around with the shitty food they gave you at orphanage. The older kids around were laughing at such display of naivety, you included. The dining room door swung open making everyone stop what they were doing, terror freezing them in place. 

She walked fast towards the small kids as she moved the metal ruler around in the air. “Do you think this is funny?!” She screamed as she towered over their tiny frames. One of them started pouting his lip at her sharp voice, trying to hold back his tears. “Don’t look at me like that you little shit.” She swung the ruler and hit the toddler in the face, making him fall to the ground. A loud pained cry erupted from the little boy.

You stood there paralized, taking in what had just happened. She had never hit a small child with such force. Something boiled inside you. Anger. Hate. Fear. 

She raised the ruler once more, ready to land it on his tiny body once again. You didn’t know how but you ran forward and used you back as a shield to protect him just in time a smack came down on your shoulder. You screamed in pain but managed to get the little boy out of there. 

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” She laughed bitterly. “You don’t know what you just got yourself into.” 

She kicked you in the ribs, making you fall to her feet with a thud. Her foot hit you repeatedly, the pain got sharper and sharper. People around just stared, and you sure as hell couldn’t judge them. The only thing you had on your mind was Keanu’s face. 

Keanu and Mike walked through the door and their conversation died as they heard the commotion. As Keanu got closer he saw the small child with a red bruise across his face being comforted by an older boy. The thump of his heart echoed in his ears as he looked over the children to see what was going on. His blood boiled at the sight: your body was curled up in a fetal position, trying to shield yourself from the blows as much as you could. 

He let out a scream filled with rage as he lunged forward to punch her in the face. She stumbled back, stunned at the newfound courage in the new kid. No one had ever confronted her. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” he screamed again as he pushed her to the ground and punched her face incessantly. Her face soon became a bloody mess, splotchig his clothes and face. Mike just kept pleading him to stop but he was totally out of his mind.

You understood what was going on and gathered the strength to put you hand on his shoulder. “Stop, please.” you whispered.

His fist stopped mid air and he turned to look at you. Your face was contorted in pain but with no bruises in sight. Your hands were holding your side trying to soothe the pain. His gaze softened and he moved to kneel next to you, picking you up carefully and carrying you back to his room. When he walked past Mike he told him to call an ambulance to check on the caretaker that was still lying unconscious on the floor.

He put you down on his bed and kneeled next to you. He softly ran his hand through your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His eyes were filled with tears that were slowly falling down his cheeks. 

Your hand cupped his face and your thumb wiped a tear that fell. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I just saw you there, so vulnerable and I just... All I could think of was how I’m leaving in a week and how I can’t leave you here on your own. I love you so so much.” He started crying harder and you pulled him on the bed while you hugged him close to you, flinching a bit when he graced your now forming bruises.

When Keanu calmed himself he turned to look at you. “Does it hurt bad? We can call an ambulance if you want.” 

“I’m fine, it’ll hurt for a few days but I’ll get over it.” you smiled reassuringly, also trying to convince yourself. 

You stayed in silence for a couple of minutes just looking at eachother. His eyes stared at you with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You could see that adoration he had for you, it was now mixed with worry and sadness. But you were missing something. Your hands drew soft caresses on eachother, trying to forget the pain you both felt.

"Y/n, I..." he chose his words carefully. "I've been meaning to tell you something but I couldn't find the right moment."

You knit you eyebrows waiting for him to go on. He took a deep breath.

"I think I'm in love with you. I think I've been for a long time now."

You inhaled sharply "What?" You whispered as if he was telling you the most secret thing in the world.

"Everytime I see you face, everytime I wake up and you're lying by my side, everytime you laugh I just... I don't think it can get any better."

You stayed silent, trying to process what he had just said. You felt your eyes water, how could he wait so long to tell you that? He was leaving in a week for fucks sake.

"Keanu you're leaving in a week. Why didn't you tell me before?" Your voice sounded angry, you actually were.

"I don't know I just... I didn't know how you felt, I didn't want to spoil what we had." He was getting nervous each second that passed, he had fucked up.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. "I love you too."

When you opened them you saw a big smile on his face. He could barely contain himself. He cupped your cheeks with his hands and leaned closer to press the softest kiss on your lips. Your heart thumped hard against your ribcage and you were sure he could hear it. When he pulled away you stared at eachother. The air around had become electric and filled with love. The purest form of it. 

He kissed you again, this time you tasted eachother slowly, hands pushing at the nape of your necks, not ready to loose contact, breathing into eachother. 

When you pulled away you rested yor foreheads together. 

“I’m not leaving you here.” he whispered. “I’ll do anything I can to take you with me.” 

You smiled. You knew it was true, he wouldn’t stop at nothing.

14 years later.

You walked around town. You needed a break and walking was your favourite thing to do to clear your mind. The winter wind was cold on your face and you adjusted your scarf, seeking warmth. You wandered the streets with no destination. Everytime you did that you ended at the same place. The orpahanage. Every time you battled with yourself to go in or just walk away.

After Keanu had beaten that caretaker they had opened a case against her, finally listening to the thousand complains children had filled against her. They called you to testify against her, asking you about the abuse and the beatings. The case was ruled out as child abuse with aggravating factors such as prolongation in time and her being the person supposed in charge to guarantee care and love to those children. No charges were pressed against Keanu since what he did was in self defense. 

You shook your head and kept walking, this time towards your house. 

The keys dingled as you left them in the console table on the entrance. You closed the door and removed your coat and scarf. It was really hot in there. 

“Honey, I’m home.” you said, checking if he was already gone for that run he had told you about. 

“I’m over here!” he answered from the living room. 

You leaned against the door frame, you smiled at the sight before you. Keanu was sprawled out in the couch watching some TV program about people baking cakes. You walked towards him, your heeled shoes taping on the wooden floor.  You sat on the edge of the couch and caressed his face. 

“Hello love.” you murmured. He smiled and leaned up to kiss your lips softly. 

“Guess where I went today?” you said as you smiled.

He stared at you knitting his brows and thinking hard. “No idea.”

“To the orphanage.” 

He laughed and sit up on the couch next to you, circling your shoulders with his arms. “Will you ever stop going there?” 

You laughed as you slapped his chest. “Hey, you can’t blame me for being a hopeless romantic and wanting to revisit the place where we met.” 

After the trial he managed to be your legal tutor and get your ass out of that hellhole. You had been eternally thankful for that. You had moved together to a small apartment but it was enough for you, everything was if he was by your side.

“It amazes me how you can erase all the bad memories and just keep the good ones. I wish I could do that.” Keanu kissed your temple and you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s not the good things. It’s the best thing that has happened to me.” 

“You’re cheesy today. I like it.” He said, this time kissing you in the corner of your mouth as you giggled.

“I love you Keanu.” 

“I love you too.”

[schmuwuwu]

A Bitter Sweetness

Synopsis: 

                        An original love story of a picturesque couple, who were expected to be the perfect pair.

Today is the first day of spring. This means that my second year of dating my current boyfriend has been a success. I remember two years ago when I confessed to him. I was such a nervous wreck in front of him that I delayed the confession after failing to start the conversation. I remembered his encouraging smile as he egged me on with such patient eyes. I walk down the path to our usual spot in the park where we’ll start our day of celebrating our 2nd anniversary. My face naturally stretched into a grin as I skip down the cherry blossom-covered path. Its pink and white purity reminds me of the past two years, how we were so awkward with each other that we didn’t know how to kiss compared to now when we would joke whenever we make mistakes.

​As I turn the last corner leading to the park, I spot him waiting at our usual tree. I smile in delight as I watch his nervous demeanour. Though he isn’t a macho or muscular man, he definitely has a certain charm to him. His kind heart and his softness for everyone around him make up his individualism. I walk towards him, a slight skip in my walk. He looks up at the sound of me coming. He dons his adorable smile that shows all of his teeth. I smile back, feeling the excitement bubbling inside me. But somehow, I feel that something about him was different. I push my doubts and worried aside, determined not to have any negative thoughts while on our anniversary date.

He offers his right hand to me as usual and I responded as usual by taking it. He leads me to the pet café that we frequent to a lot. We have been discussing about getting a pet ever since six months ago. I have started to think about a name for a cat and a dog and what breeds they would be lately. We enter the café and order our usual meals, disappointed once again about not meeting the right pet. Due to the location of the café, it is usually quite expensive for us to always afford it. But when we do, we would share meals. I always thought he just wanted to be closer to me. His polite behaviour to others would tend to make me jealous. A stab of pain shot through my heart when I think about how polite he was being, to me and to others. It seems to me that he was treating me like he would to others. And it had already worried me ever since we started dating.

I suddenly feel disappointed and it probably showed on my face because he concernedly peers down on my face. The worry in his eyes seem to be genuine so I let go of the thoughts that held doubt within me. But I couldn’t shake off the insecurity that had already lodged itself in my heart. We leave the café after a wonderful lunch and proceed to stroll around the shopping district. As the contents in our stomach settle, our minds also wander. I could never know what he thinks during these silences. It’s never awkward and it’s comfortable even when we don’t talk about anything. But now I feel insecure. I can’t shake the feeling of not being important of him off my aching heart. Why couldn’t I ignore the insecurity this time like normal? Is it because of how… different he looked when he was waiting for me? My mind wandered further down the rabbit hole.

Then, it occur to me that there has been nothing intimate that happened during the relationship. He never went the extra mile to give me lasting presents and we never had any matching possessions. Was he always prepared to break off the relationship? At this point, I can’t ignore it any longer. This bottomless pit of doubt and distrust that continue to corrode my faith in him. As we walk back to the park as we always do, he takes a sudden turn. With my hand still in his, I am forced to go along with his sudden change in mind. My heart suddenly starts to race. Is he going to put his foot down and renew his loyalty or are my worst fears coming true? He slows to a stop at the willow tree that stares longingly down into the lake.

What’s wrong, he asks with worry in his eyes. His voice filled with kindness now hurt me. I avoid looking into his eyes. His eyes, clear and red. I had thought his eyes were beautiful because the red represented the forward passion of his love for me. Now, I can’t bear looking at his eyes. Not only his eyes but his face and his body. I look at my hands and slowly withdraw them from his. I take in a shaky breath. Why? I ask. Why, what? he asked back. I can only shake my head and swept a hand around us. Why are you so kind to others just as you are to me? You are never selfish with me. I say. Words that I want to say—scream at him—lodge themselves in my throat and my eyes blurred as I think back to the previous two years. Why is it today that I can’t ignore them? Why did I have to listen to them only today?

He was never selfish with me. He never asked for anything more and took everything from me with a sorry instead of a thank you. I kept working hard so that one day he was comfortable enough with me to say a thank you but that day never came. Maybe I was already disheartened ever since the confession. I knew I had pushed him to make a decision due to my timid nature and he probably couldn’t deny me. Just thinking that made my tears suddenly ran down my cheeks. I am jealous that my old self to be able to cry so freely, without any shame. Now, I can only stare down at the ground guiltily and avoid looking up. He stands there in silence, flabbergasted at the sight of my tears. The sun begins to merge into the horizon. As the seconds tick by, the sun carries all my hopes away together with it. He didn’t answer. I close my eyes, trying to steel myself against his words.

He opens his mouth and closes it again, trying to find all the right words to say. It’s okay, I say. I’m sorry if you felt like you had an obligation to fulfil when you accepted my confession. Can you forget all about it? I don’t mind if we stay as friends. I’ve grown tired of waiting for you to come around and treat me as something special. I say with a shaking voice. I am surprised myself for being able to say all of that without breaking down even further. What would traumatise me to never fall in love again was his next few words and what he would never do to me.

Okay. I’m sorry that you had to wait for me but… I also grew tired of waiting for you to come out of your shell. You never expressed your opinions. He replies. Each syllable hit me straight to the heart. He didn’t hold back when he said it. I look up to meet his eyes and could see pity in his eyes. For me? No, it was for him to break up with a girlfriend of two years in a picture-perfect relationship. Sensing that we were over and that we were finally done, I hug him, knowing somehow we will never get to interact ever again anymore. That in the first place, we weren’t meant to meet. Then, I sprint away from him, away from the lone willow tree and away from the setting sun. Away from what was my dream. I slam the door of my bedroom, ignoring the annoyed protests from my brother who I live with.

As I sit on my bed, gazing listlessly outside my window out at the willow tree and to the setting sun, I see his silhouette still standing there, unmoving. Then, I begin to cry again, this time without expecting them to stop. My tears have a mind of their own. They flow non-stop, carrying the brunt of reality along with it. I feel as though suspended in the cold presence of a vacuum, no longer able to feel anything.  Loneliness seep into my heart as the doubts and distrust begin to fade away. I no longer feel burdened about having a relationship but I felt that I had destroyed an irreparable relationship. A relationship that would never be recovered, only meant to be buried. I look back at the past two years again, before closing them off from my heart. I don’t want to remember them again. My first and a hopefully successful relationship has ended as a failure.

 What hurts more than the fact that it was consented is that he never returned that last hug. He had already let go of me before today. I remember the nervous look on his face before he showed me his picture-perfect smile. I only realise, in my stupidity and being blinded in love and hope, his smile was to cover up the discomfort he had felt while he was with me. He never wanted to stay in this relationship. How naïve was I that I didn't notice how he was feeling? Was I really that blinded by love? If love has blinded me to the point of naivety, I don’t want that anymore. If this naivety would cause me pain anyway, I might as well bear this ever-lasting pain that I will feel from this failure for all my life instead of reliving it.

I wish I broke off the relationship sooner. I wish I noticed his discomfort and paid attention to my doubts. I only woke up today. The dreamy state of being in love was like being an illusion that I had destroyed with just one sentence and another from him. I guess that is how fragile love is. I never should have trusted my heart. This deceitful heart which could never find solace. I’m done listening to it. I should have stopped when I noticed just how blue and black I have already become. This painful failure will forever etch the feeling of loneliness in the abyss of my heart, its grip on me eternal and the scar of failure that has stopped my heart from ever beating again. I hope it never recovers from this. If it does, I’m sure I should just let go. Again. Before I break again. Forever.

[shock777archive]

Shock777′s Teen Titan universe (fan-prediction), had the animated show from 2003 had more seasons after season 5.

Honestly I wish I had time to draw/write out the Teen titans / bbrae ideas I have. I have the cutest ideas and no time to sit down and devote myself to a comic or even a fan fic anymore. :’(  I love the Teen titans/bbrae fandom so so much! There’s so much good content out there and i love sharing that content and absorbing what others have made! But again, everyone does Teen Titans/BBRAE DIFFERENT. everyone has their own headcanons on how things should go, fan characters, next gen ocs, and their own thoughts on the titans as a whole. 

I love seeing the personal ways others develop the two and their relationship. But at the end of the day, I have my own headcanons and ideas and I so badly want to share them with the world. But...no time, energy, and lack of motivation plagues me. 

But Anyway... Because I cannot devote my time to a comic or fanfic at this time, I’m going to just blabber about what I imagine in my own canon universe for the titans. 

*Note that not all of these ideas have been fleshed out. i constantly go back and re-imagine different scenarios. I have a general blueprint of how things would go, a skeleton with main events and a short timeline of sorts. but subplots, fillers, and some major details are lacking. I’ve had to invent characters/villains, but I haven’t given them much thought as of now.

 I have spent a LOT of time on this, and would love input and comments, reblogs and shares. :) I’ve been keeping this in my drafts as I progress my ideas further...so this is almost like a masterpost or something lol XD; 

Anyway, keep reading if you wanna know how i imagine the fate of the titans and bbrae’s canonization had the original 2000′s cartoon show had more seasons to work with. 

 After Season 5/ Trouble in Tokyo ends. 

There are some key things and headcanons that I have to mention before rolling any further. 

Raven is free from Trigon after the events of Season 4. She no longer has him inside of her, persuading her and influencing her. 

Star/Rob is canon. After the events of Trouble in Tokyo, the couple begin a healthy dating relationship that is full of sweetness and life. 

Kid Flash and Jinx are a thing, but their relationship is somewhat superficial at first. 

Terra is alive, but either chooses to forget her past life, or literally cannot remember her sacrifice or the titans. She has cut ties to the titans permanently.

There are remnants of Trigon remaining around the world, deep underground, and many cults that worship him exist. There is possibility of him being reformed/regenerated, however he needs a new host as Raven is no longer his host. 

The Titans have a huge following around the globe majorly in part due to Titans East and the ending of Season 5 episode “Titans Together”.

Slade is alive once more, waiting to rise up against the titans again. He has to rebuild his empire again from scratch and this will take him quite some time to do. He still may be looking for an apprentice. 

I know there are other questions/plots/things I haven’t thought about such as titans east, certain villains, and other things you all may be curious about. 

Literally just ask me what i think happened to someone/some event and re-jog my memory so I can spend time to think about said things. :) It’s been a loooooong time since 2006. XD 

The Time Skip. 

In my own headcanon/universe that takes place after the original animated 2000′s cartoon show,

there is a time skip of sorts

. a time skip of 2-3 years later where the Titans are slightly older, all over the age of 18. 

Robin- 19 Starfire-18 Cyborg-19 (the oldest of the group) Raven-18 and a half, nearly 19  Beastboy-18 (just barely turned 18). 

They all still live in the Titans Tower in Jump city, and evil still very much exists. After this timeskip, the titans would have different outfits and appearances. I’ll do my best to show them how i imagine them now: 

Starfire:

About the same height as she was before the time skip. slightly bigger breasts but still on the smaller side. She wears shorts and her hair is longer and thicker. her bangs are parted to one side instead of down the middle. 

Robin: 

Transitioning into Nightwing. His hair is based off of his disguise in “trouble in tokyo.” He is growing out his hair and becoming more fulfilled with his life now that Starfire is with him romantically. He is about as tall as Starfire now, and will probably grow taller than her soon. 

Cyborg: 

(lol he basically looks the same because he is made of mechanical parts...oops! ) He is more cool-headed and loves to tease the other titans especially rob and star, about romantic things and about growing of age. 

Raven: 

Her hair has started to grow out...she no longer trims it. It is a little past shoulder length now. Her breasts have grown bigger, she is about a C cup. she wears long gloves now, and matching boots. she mostly keeps her hood off unless she is going into battle. she is now officially the shortest teen titan. 

Beastboy: 

He has the most radical change out of all the others. He matures nicely, losing the fat on his face and growing lean muscle. He grows taller, not quite as tall as robin, but taller than Raven at this point. He still has plenty of growing to do, however. His hair is now fashioned forward into a fohawk, and he is more emotionally stable. 

All of these drawings are just prototypes and can be subject to change, however I am pretty set on beastboy and Raven’s designs. ^^; they also were sketched relatively quickly so forgive the crappiness lol 

Starfire and Robin’s relationship

Starfire and Robin have been dating ever since their time in Tokyo. Starfire affirms Robin and helps him overcome his past demons. She calms him, and soothes him, and now he is less likely to freak out or obsess over villain happenings. The two are close to getting engaged at this point. They sometimes spend the night in each other’s rooms, though nothing too sexual happens. 

Cyborg likes to tease them whenever they go for dates, and he especially loves to poke fun of Robin. It is all in good fun, and mostly gives the others a good laugh. 

Sometimes their relationship can be obnoxious as starfire sometimes cannot control her urges to kiss robin at random or perform pda though robin has talked to her about it before. She is getting better though, having been dating him for about 2 years now. 

Beastboy sometimes is jealous/envious of Robin. Even though he is happy for his teammates, he wishes he could fall in love and start his own romantic ventures. Raven couldn’t care less about romance for the time being, and is rather on the outside when it comes to seeing others in relationships. 

Beastboy and his thoughts on Terra 

After the ending of Season 5, episode “Things Change”, he comes to accept that he has work to do with the Titans and he stops pursuing Terra altogether. It takes him a long time to get over her, and even after the timeskip sometimes he thinks of her and gets depressed. He really feels like he lost something...He feels like no one will ever come to accept him or like him the way Terra did. He is at war with his hormones, always trying to flirt with civilian girls and seek approval in places he shouldn’t. In the end though, he is painfully single and is bogged down with feelings of loneliness. Beastboy acts tough, confident in himself and silly around the team, but sometimes, he just needs to brood in his room. 

I always believed that had a season 6 ever was produced, beastboy and raven would have gotten together. Why did season 5 end on beastboy cutting ties with Terra, unless he was going to be set up with someone else? I always believed that last episode foreshadowed him moving on. Now that he has cut himself off from Terra and accepted her choice, i felt that it would have been an easy transition into bbrae becoming canon. 

BBRAE. a general timeline...lots of parts are missing. 

Firstly, Raven has always had a soft spot for Beastboy. It’s been shown time and time again in the 5 seasons of the original show. I want to state that i believe since Trigon is away from Raven now, she has become free in some sense, with her emotions. She still has to control herself from emoting too too much, but she is less vulnerable to exploding things with her powers come any sort of emotional distress. 

My bbrae fan-theory has a general format i usually stick to but the details of it are somewhat blurry. 

Things I MUST have in my bbrae timeline: 

There must be an obligatory moment where Raven figures out she is in love with beastboy. There is a pivotal moment after the time skip, in which it clicks for her that her friendship with him is more than just friendship. It starts off slowly..them growing together. Raven is definitely the one who falls for beastboy FIRST. I like to think of a few of these scenarios to happen in a 6th season that brings raven and beastboy closer (kind of in chronological order) : 

An episode dedicated to Raven figuring out Beastboy’s dark past with his parents and his fight with Sakutia disease. Whether it’s because he fights a bad guy from his past, becomes ill, or Raven steps into his mind. There are many ways for this kind of an episode to happen. I feel like once Raven learns that beastboy has his own skeletons in his closet, she becomes more sympathetic and nice towards him. It’s after an episode like this where she starts to call him Gar for the first time on special occasions. 

An episode surrounding beastboy and Raven on a mission together, similar to when Raven had to go on her own to take care of Melvin, Timmy and Teether (episode “Hide and Seek”). A mission in which they are placed together and alone while the others are on other missions. I haven’t thought of what kind of mission it could be and how long it would last. I play around with the idea that raven and beastboy are chosen to be together based on their abilities so the mission would incorporate that. During this mission they are together alone and things could happen to bring Raven closer to him. Things like :

-Raven and Beastboy getting caught in a storm together and are forced to take shelter  -Raven witnessing Beastboy being good with people/children/the elderly and it makes her smile  -Raven and Beastboy forced to share a room/bed for the night (I realllyyyyy like this trope tbh ;A;) Beastboy could be accidentally cuddling Raven in his sleep and Raven could wake up to it. That, or Raven wakes up earlier than beastboy and notices him sleeping and she stares at his handsome, serene face and remarks, “...you know...I’ve never seen him look this...peaceful.” THERE ARE MANY THINGS THAT COULD HAPPEN WITH THIS KIND OF TROPE AND I CAN’T SETTLE ON JUST ONE IDEA asdjkfhalkjsdfhaf -Good teamwork and sense of flow with each other when fighting bad guys. I need at least one good fight sequence of the two of them kicking ass and beastboy asking for a high-five afterwards from Raven xD  -Raven and Beastboy getting ready to leave their mission having completed it, and Beastboy says something along the lines of, “I’m actually glad I was paired with you of all people Raven. Had it been anyone else, I might have ended up failing my mission.” 

An episode where Raven is in danger, and Beastboy Transforms into the Beast to save her, getting nearly mortally wounded in the process. This would be the definitive episode, where Raven comes to realize her feelings for beastboy. I imagine that Beastboy and Raven have an argument earlier in the episode, where Raven walks away from it feeling like he doesn’t like her and still thinks she’s creepy. But the argument ends up being a misunderstanding on Raven’s part, and Beastboy was actually meaning something as a nice gesture. After she realizes Beastboy’s sacrifice, she visits him in the infirmary as he recovers. He is out of it for several hours and she feels awful about their argument, having nearly lost him. When he comes to, Raven asks him “why?...why did u go so far..for me? I thought you didn’t like me...” Beastboy would then reply with a heartfelt compliment to raven, and it would be revealed that the argument was a misunderstanding. Beastboy would smile and shrug off his wounds. He would say a heartfelt/emotional one liner, (don’t know what it is yet) but the moment he says it raven’s heart lights up and she feels love for the first time. she would inner monologue, “what...what is this? what’s...happening to me?” it would zoom in on beastboy’s smile and she would have a surge of all the memories of them up to that point, overflowing her until she nearly falls backward. Beastboy would ask her if she was ok, as she stumbles a little... and raven would say that she was fine and glad hes doing better...she would leave the room calm and cool , leaving beastboy none the wiser. The episode would end on that, but it would be the start to their relationship. 

There would be other episodes and sillier lighthearted stuff surrounding the other characters. but in every other episode there would be cute bbrae moments every now and then sprinkled in. moments like: 

-Beastboy shirtless in the training room, Raven oogling him on accident when trying to locate another team member.  -An ending scene on an episode where the titans all look at the sunset, and raven looks over at beastboy, shining in the light. his handsome features would shine through, and she would blush and avert her eyes. he wouldn’t notice her gaze, of course.  -A moment where beastboy flirts with raven jokingly, but Raven just stays silent, confusing beastboy who was accepting a snide remark in return  -Raven having a nightmare about beastboy dying or getting hurt, and she goes to check on him in the middle of the night. He would be sleeping in his new queen size bed (i have a headcanon that he gets rid of his bunk beds sometime during the timeskip) and Raven would smile at his peaceful face.  -Beastboy catching raven as she falls during a fight, Raven blushing and pushing away from him immediately  -A moment in which Beastboy flirts with some civilian girls who laugh at him and reject him, and he moves on, without noticing raven was watching the whole time. She then explodes the girls’ drinks they were carrying in a form of rage and jealousy XD 

I have many other ideas too for random moments. But now back to the main skeleton: 

An episode in which Beastboy is upset because he sees Terra passing by on the street. He is reminded of his status as a single man, and sees love and romance everywhere he goes. he cannot escape it, coming home to star and rob shenanigans and cyborg is too busy teasing them that beastboy seeks solace with Raven. He admits how he felt about terra and how he feels lonely. Raven tries to keep her sadness and jealousy under wraps, and confides in beastboy that she feels alone too. beastboy assumed she was like not into romance or anything like that, to which raven replies with a blush and a comment like, “I’m a human too you know.” Beastboy would feel better after talking with her, and would end the episode by telling Raven that if she ever felt lonely, they could hang out sometime. raven would smile and say, “i said i was lonely, not desperate.” BB would roll his eyes and leave her room, smiling and saying that the offer was on the table still. 

This episode would be the one that makes beastboy fall for Raven. I have no idea how it would start, but beastboy would invite Raven to go hang out with him. Raven would begrudgingly agree, and would be dragged into a friendly outing with her crush. Beastboy would ask raven to hold onto him as they rode his moped (sometime acquired between the timeskip), and raven would blush. they would wear civilian clothes during this outing. They would see a movie, and go to the bookstore. As Raven became comfortable being around beastboy, they even go to an arcade and raven starts getting into the videogames and kicking beastboys butt at his favorite games. Raven becomes so relaxed that she lets her guard down, and at one moment beastboy would make a joke about something silly, and raven would giggle and laugh out loud. Immediately, raven would realize what she had done and cover her mouth with her hands and blush. Beastboy meanwhile, just gasps and stares at her with big eyes. “did...did you just....laugh at one of my jokes?!” Raven would turn around and blush madly, saying nothing. Beastboy would then cock an eyebrow and smile the biggest smile he ever had. “After all tHESE YEARS! you think I’m funny!” Raven would blush and reply, “....one funny joke out of millions doesn’t make you funny beastboy.” Beastboy then steps back and notices something..he notices how she isn’t meeting his eyes with the regular cold, jeering glare but how she is really flustered and her eyes look soft..he sees the pink blush on her cheeks and realizes that he is correct... that she really DID think he was funny all those years...He also begins to suspect that in that moment, raven was actually...into him. Beastboy blushes deeply and starts stuttering, but then a few teenage civilians would walk by and interrupt the moment. “Hey it’s beastboy and Raven! cool! C-can we have a picture with you guys?! wow i can’t believe the teen titans are here!” The teens would snap a photo with the two blushing titans, and then start walking away. As they walk away, raven and beastboy overhear one of the girls state, “Wow they’re so cute! I never knew those two were a thing!” Raven and beastboy would blush furiously and beastboy would yell, “W-We’re JUST FRIENDS!” back at the civilians who are out of earshot. When he turns to raven, she looks beyond mortified. Beastboy’s ears droop as he feels like she is embarrassed to be with him. meanwhile raven is feeling the same, thinking that beastboy would never date a creep like her. They ride home on the moped in silence. As they return, raven thanks beastboy for the outing. he stutters and thanks her too. there is an awkward silence. “So, uh....” Beastboy would start, but raven would turn, say “goodnight.” and then leave the room. 

An episode in which Beastboy fights Adonis again. Adonis threatens to hurt Raven and the other titans, but Raven doesn’t know that when beastboy and Adonis stand off, its about her. the team is separated from the fight. Beastboy ends up kicking adonis’s ass, but is beaten up pretty badly. by the time raven and the other titans get to beastboy, he collapses into starfire’s arms who catches him from falling. before he loses consciousness, he sees raven and smiles at her with a swollen black eye and beat up face. “Raven...good...y-you’re safe...now...” he passes out at that point, leaving the team to stare at raven and raven just as confused as everyone else. 

An episode in which Raven finally admits her feelings for beastboy to herself.  this episode would delve into her psyche again and feature her emotions again. she would be losing control of her powers, similar to the episode “Fear itself.” because she is denying her love for beastboy. she doesn’t want to pursue it in fear that he wont like her and fear of hurting him. When danger raises its head, beastboy is in trouble and is unable to be rescued by the rest of the team. They try, but no one is strong enough to overcome the villain without raven’s help. But raven is not able to use her powers because she is denying passion within her. Seeing Beastboy being held by a shocking device, each time the titans get close, the villain shocks beastboy and makes him scream in pain and agony. Raven finally cannot stand it, and her powers activate again. However, she isnt channeling all of her emotions together like in the episode “nevermore.” She is leaving passion out. Raven finds that she isn’t strong enough to defeat the foe, and finally gives in and accepts her passion for beastboy. As soon as passion enters the equation, raven becomes at least 10% more powerful than before. her love for beastboy fuels her, and gives her the extra edge to defeat the villain.  beastboy is rescued by Raven who frantically takes the shocks off of his ankles and wrists. He starts to thank her, but is interrupted by her hugging him tightly, still fueled by her love for him. beastboy blushes and is shocked. raven holds him for a second, tenderly and closely. the episode ends there. 

And I still have many more episode ideas that I’m currently working on. The skeleton would continue with one more final episode where beastboy and raven would finally confess to one another. I dont know what would force the confession, and i have no clue if either beastboy would confess first or raven would. Maybe people can give me ideas? :) I just have so many ideas of how it would all go. i lean more towards raven confessing first. because beastboy is so patient with her. 

So the very very basic outline for bbrae canonization would be: 

- Raven falls for beastboy first, Raven gets closer to beastboy, beastboy falls for raven, raven admits to herself that she loves him, either beastboy or raven confess their love to the other, they begin dating. 

Once Beastboy and Raven are a couple 

I have a headcanon that Raven would want their relationship to be a secret for a while. although they have confessed their attraction to one another, their romance is slow at first and is kept secret from the rest of the team. Beastboy is patient with raven, and accepts the fact that she isnt ready to go public with their love. The couple would give knowing glances to one another throughout the day, sometimes spend the night in each others rooms, send late night text messages, and secretly pine for one another while the other teammates are none the wiser. 

I also have a headcanon that they dont share a first kiss for a while yet. beastboy is very hormonal and wants raven badly, but he is very patient and wants her to initiate it because he doesnt want to make her uncomfortable. Eventually it would happen, raven initiating it of course. she would probably kiss him quickly on the cheek, but beastboy would be so shocked and overcome by love that he would turn her face back to him, look her in the eyes, and they gently would both come closer and lock lips for the first time. 

Starfire would eventually become the first one to know of the pair’s relationship shortly after robin proposed to her. i havent settled on how she would find out, but it would happen and their secret relationship would finally be announced to the rest of the team. at star and robs wedding, raven accidentally catches the bouquet, to star’s delight. 

After beastboy and raven become a thing, raven almost exclusively calls beastboy “gar” or “garfield.” 

As beastboy and raven grow older, beastboy changes his name to Changeling around the same time Robin becomes nightwing. 

Another Time Skip

There would be another time skip near the end of the Teen Titans series, foreshadowing a spin off series about the teen titans next gen (lol i steal too many ideas from kishimoto-sensei lolololol) There are a few things that would happen. 

Starfire and Robin become parents in their early 20′s. It’s after Starfire announces her pregnancy that bb and rae get married. 

(*the rest of the series is based off of my original comic about beastboy and raven’s married life and the birth of their first child. If you want to read that comic, please go here.  ) 

Beastboy and Raven would have a child two years after starfire and robin have their daughter. 

Kid flash and Jinx would have a child too around the same time. Cyborg would adopt a child. 

About a year and a half after their first child is born, beastboy and raven would have a second child. 

The series would end, showing yet another time skip where their kids are now living in the tower, grown up into their teens themselves. the next generation would begin. 

-----------------------------

So...yeah. lol obviously i have to work out this narrative, but that’s generally how I see bbrae becoming a thing. I know there are other things i glossed over. such as slade and other characters. but i mainly only hypothesize about my ship becoming canon tbh lolololol. 

I have designs for the next gen kids, 

And i’m currently working on more designs and a plot for the next gen series. lol 

but you get NO SPOILERS for the next gen ! >:C 

Let’s just say that old enemies return, family bonds are tested, and the old titans and the next gen titans have to work together to defeat the ultimate evil. 

Anyway, thanks sooooooo much for reading all of this! ;A; 

If you read all of this, congratulations you are now one of my favorite people ;W; 

Please send me questions, suggestions, critiques, and please like and reblog...I would love your input! :3 This is just my version of how bbrae should be done. i love reading fanfics and other’s stories. let’s all share in the glory of bbrae shipping and hope for a season six one day xDDDDD 

But yeah. Thank you. :) And I am out! xoxoxo 

-Alex, Dec 2018- 

(may edit later with updated thoughts, ideas and timelines.) 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph! I know that I for one would love for you to post that hospital fic list! No pressure tho!

(referencing this post)

Hey Nonny!!

YAY!! Ask and ye shall receive!! <3 I have wanted to post it for awhile; I try to hold off as long as possible since every week I do get enough asks to keep me going; and when I want to post a list, I put out a *winkwinknudgenudge* and people like you indulge me hahah! <3

ANYWAY, check it out! Thank you for asking!! <3

HOSPITALS Pt. 2

See Also: 

Hospital Fics

Rehab/Mental Hospital AU (Community Recs)

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

As You Wish by PipMer (K, 3,311 w., 1 Ch. || Bromance/Pre-Slash/Epic Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Hospitals) – When John woke from his coma, he wasn't at all surprised to see the wrong Holmes brother sitting at his bedside. Disappointed, but not surprised.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

A Study in Linguistics by rizandace (T, 12,425 w., 1 Ch. || S1 Canon Compliant/S2 Divergence, Friendship, Slices of Life, Communication, Cranky Sherlock, Hospitals, Sherlock Whump, Pet Cat, Jealous John, Sherlock’s Violin, Anxious Sherlock, John Whump) – Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had their own language. It was a language of few words and minute facial expressions, and John had learned that it was nearly the only way to have an honest conversation with his eccentric flat mate.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets,  Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller, Switchlock, Rimming, Emotional Lovemaking, Lots of Sex, HJ/BJ’s) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[wario-where]

WW Meta: character reactions to being “on the outside”

( Never would i ever have imagined myself one day typing “warioware meta”, & i know no one asked for this, but... if you find this kind of stuff as interesting as i do, i hope you enjoy :’) )

It occurred to me that each of the characters in the WarioWare series could be examined separately as a different reaction to being an “outsider”, and so I wanted to write about it and share! As the series is in itself a celebration of the strange, it prides on being different from the rest. But that doesn’t make the developers invulnerable to their own unique circumstances!  This is a long post altogether, but a few short character pieces underneath the readmore. 

This post makes a lot of references to the WarioWare MMG Developer Diaries, which can be found here!

Wario: Selfishness

With his trademark abrasive personality, Wario lives his life with seemingly little regard for his friends -- or for anyone but himself. He refers to himself with the overly grandiose “ore-sama” personal pronoun and continually neglects to pay his employees with every new game in the Ware series. 

But it’s well-established in the Mario universe that, as a child, Wario was jealous of the attention that his better-known counterpart got, thus driving him into the antagonist role of early games in the Mario series. Wario reacts to being othered with greed & a dogged pursuit of self-service, doing most things in furtherance of his own selfish goals... possibly stemming from a belief that if he does not fight for his own wants in life, then no one else will:

“While I was away crusading against the mystery alien Tatanga in Sarasa Land, an evil creep took over my castle and put the people of Mario Land under his control with a magic spell. This intruder goes by the name of Wario. He has been jealous of my popularity ever since we were boys, and has tried to steal my castle many times.”

- Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins English manual, pg 3

WarioWare takes place far after this time in his life, as he seems to have settled down in Diamond City & no longer appears to be preoccupied with antagonizing Mario like he used to. Despite this, he has remained greedy and self-serving in most respects.

Mona: Adaptability

Mona is strange. She has an odd sense of humor, an obsession with nose fortune telling, and a fascination with such unsavory characters as Wario. Despite this, she is also a part-time pop star and cheerleader, has an active & healthy social life, and is unafraid of speaking what is on her mind.

As comfortable with herself and outwardly confident as she is, Mona is a perfect example of adaptability. She knows she’s “different”, but she’s versatile enough to blend in with a wide variety of people and social situations and, for all intents and purposes, lead a (somewhat) average teenage life.

Of note about Mona is her tendency to include as many people as she can in things that she finds fun or exciting, especially those in need of friends. One of my favorite illustrations of this is from the Japanese Smooth Moves diaries, where she commiserates with Ashley over not seeing their parents often, and even invites her to hang out:

“My mama is always away from home because of her work, so I sorta understand how Ashley feels. Don’t hesitate to come and visit me when you’re lonely!”

In Gold, she continues this trend by inviting her old friend & classic boss Joe to a party she is hosting with her friends. Those who make a point to include others like Mona does in the things that they do often understand what it’s like to be excluded...

Jimmy: Nostalgia

Jimmy is entirely unique as an “outsider”, because that status is not with respect to society itself, but to the past & his own youth. 

Though Jimmy is generally placed around the same age as his childhood friend, Wario (~25-26), some of his mannerisms suggest that he still views himself as a younger man. He remains as hip on new trends as possible, embracing email and text messaging and enthusiastically encouraging his coworkers to follow suit. His most jealously guarded secret is implied to be that his large, expressive afro is actually a wig, possibly meaning that he is either losing hair or keeps his natural hair short to make way for the more obnoxious blue ‘do. 

His appearance & preferred style of dance are distinctively 70′s, and in his diaries, Jimmy uses the pronoun “boku” to refer to himself, a pronoun usually reserved for use by teenagers and younger men aged ~14 to ~21. He enjoys disco and spends entire days at Club Sugar, dancing away the day with seemingly no other cares in the world, much like a younger, less mature man would. 

Jimmy does a lot to preserve an air of youthful vitality, but while he does it, he lives in the past. In the end, though, he seems happy with this lifestyle... as does his entire family!

Dribble & Spitz: Observation

Both Dribble & Spitz’s stages & developer diaries revolve almost completely around one facet of their lives: their taxi-driving. The people they meet while on their shift, the places they end up, the strange things that happen on the road… on a typical day, the rest of the world passes by their taxi window.

I think the most interesting things come into play when considering the two individually, though. Of the duo, Spitz seems most content with this lifestyle. Symbolically he has a fascination with outer space, where the only action available to do is to observe, to people-watch. And in one of his more illustrative entries, Spitz views the Earth from space for the first time and is so struck by the planet’s beauty -- and the constant movement of the people inhabiting it -- he begins to cry:

From outer space, the Earth looks perfectly round, beautiful… Thinkin’ about how on the Earth, there was always somethin’ somewhere hastily at work, I couldn’t do anything but cry a few tears… What could I say?

A little more restless than his companion, Dribble talks frequently about wanting to take vacations from work to engage with the people around him in social events. Despite this, he finds entertainment in being an observer, particularly from passengers with strange stories, foremost of those being the frequent misadventures of Dr. Crygor.

Dr. Crygor: Independence

Speaking of! The eccentric doctor lives on an island in the middle of the ocean. From there, he does as he wishes, caring little about the opinions of others and pursuing his unconventional scientific endeavors in peace. 

Dr. Crygor is aware that he is a uniquely scientific thinker and has experience with people disbelieving in his out-of-the-box theories and observations,  apparently even from childhood. Nonetheless, he cares very little about what other people think of his lifestyle, choosing instead to trust in his own intellect and find answers by scientific means:

Long ago, yes, when I was a 10-year-old child, I discovered this fact, and I reported it to my friends with excitement, but no one could believe it. However, I studied with various gums, and I remember reporting the research results to my friends, and them finally believing me. From that moment on, I aimed to become a researcher…

On his island, Dr. Crygor is free to be as he is and perform as many scientific experiments as he pleases, free from the constraints of societal norm -- whatever that may be in the WarioWare universe. Though he is aware he is an outsider, he could care less. He takes advantage of his freedom to take his eccentricity to extremes -- because he can, and because it is suitable for his work.

Kat & Ana: Obliviousness

Like most young children, Kat & Ana are much too young to have any conception of the world’s social norms. The vast majority of their diary entries revolve around their interactions with those in their immediate friend circle and with each other, with very little attention to the world beyond that.  They are certainly different from other kids their age, but they are also entirely unaware of it. So, how can one respond to being an outsider if one has no idea that they are one? :’)

Ashley: Self-Sabotage

Of all the characters listed here, it’s Ashley who is the most destructive in her approach to her outsider status -- because she creates it herself. In fact, many of her most common behaviors seem tailor-made to keep people at arm’s-length.

Ashley stands intentionally on the outside of groups, rarely smiles, and struggles to express emotion besides anger and apathy. Her compliments are halfhearted and passive (“I guess”, “maybe”, “not bad”), while her insults towards the player after losing her games are direct and personal (“pathetic! abysmal! lame!”)! She is vain (“Everyone knows that I’m the greatest!”), has a short temper, and is occasionally very cruel towards even her closest friend, Red. She prides herself on others’ fear of her (“You should be afraid of the great Ashley!”) and defines herself by what she is in relation to her own superiority, and by what she is not in relation to other people (“She never plays with dolls and she never combs her hair / Who has time for girly things like that?”).

And yet in her unguarded moments, Ashley is aware of a side of her that desires friends and companionship. She appears to think about, if not miss, her absent parents. She blushes on the implication that she is enjoying her time at the potluck in Gold. And in yet another revealing moment in her Japanese diaries, in which Ashley tasks Red with writing her diary entry...:

“I'm Ashley's close friend, Red. I haven't told this to anyone, but Ashley is actually pretty lonely. While we were experimenting with magic by the riverbed, we saw a friendly family of apes. Then, Ashley seemed to be looking far away. I acted as though I hadn't noticed, but I know very well. She was probably thinking about her parents from her hometown. Ashley has more cuter characteristics than you may think!”

(https://www.mariowiki.com/Talk:Ashley_and_Red)

We see her trending away from this loneliness slowly, but surely!

Orbulon: Insecurity

Ironically, Orbulon sets himself up as an almost-perfect counterpoint to Ashley. While Ashley consciously builds up walls around herself to keep people out, Orbulon is continuously having to take down the walls others build around him.

In his diaries, Orbulon struggles greatly to communicate in earthen language, his writing riddled with syntactical errors. At a company barbecue, he claims to enjoy himself, not because he is having a good time, but because everyone else is. And notably, he mentions enjoying being around Mona, because “she does not treat me like an alien.” 

In other entries, Orbulon is secretly insecure, caring a lot about what others think of him, especially with regards to his intelligence. When he is invited by 9 Volt to a friendly gaming tournament, he spends the entire night practicing playing video games, worried that it will reflect badly on him if he doesn’t win. In another (somewhat depressing) entry, Orbulon, in a bout of loneliness, makes multiple failed attempts to visit each of his coworkers, even at one point seeking out Dribble & Spitz’s taxi. Eventually, he is able to find Kat & Ana... but leaves shortly after, as he quickly becomes self-conscious when he senses that they are “acting strangely” because he is around. In the end, Orbulon ultimately goes back home to sleep instead.

Orbulon of the diaries is constantly thinking about himself in relation to the earth-folk around him, hoping to eventually belong... but it seems he eventually achieves it. :’)

9-Volt: Rebelliousness

9 Volt is known at his school as a troublesome kid.  His name appears on the blackboard for time-out in Twisted, and his teacher even singles him out during 18 Volt’s classroom introduction! He is uninterested in his schoolwork and has to be bribed to complete it. And despite being very close to his mother, he does defy her by staying up late to play video games and hiding from her when she comes to check up on him in the night. 

But outside of school, 9 Volt is not at all a bad kid. In fact, he is actually compassionate, intelligent, and -- like Mona -- also seems to have a tendency to want to include people who he sees on the outside. He is the only one to approach 18 Volt on his first day in class after their teacher scolds him; when he sees Orbulon walking home alone, he invited him over to his house; he frequently invites Kat & Ana over to play video games... and, perhaps sweetest of all, his “pet”, Fronk, is a rescue:

“A year ago, [Fronk] had been abandoned and I picked him up. I made a personal decision to make him my pet. What would I do without him?”

Clearly not a bad kid! 

Baby Wario Screenshot Source: https://www.mariowiki.com/File:YIDS-Wario_Baby_Bowser_Argument.png

[thestorytellerofkpop]

Jimin is Away; Autumn, Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Jimin, despite everything the two of you have been through, is slowly fading out of your life. But when you find someone to fill the void, Jimin starts to become a bit strange.

Word Count: 2160

Previous Chapter

Yoongi walked down the sidewalk with a determined expression on his features. He pulled his jacket closer to his body; if he was cold then he knew Y/N must be frozen solid. With this thought in his mind he walked faster, heading to the little community park in the neighborhood. The park was full, but not too crowded as people ate from the street vendors and danced around local musicians. The orange leaves glinted under the street lamps, guiding Yoongi through the main strip. He took an off beaten path to a secluded little area of benches, and there he saw Y/N, her arms wrapped around her and her head down.

Yoongi approached her, his shoes kicking up an array of pebbles and fallen leaves. She looked up, her eyes bloodshot with tears in them, her cheeks and nose flushed red. Y/N hurriedly wiped her eyes and Yoongi chuckled, sitting down next to her.

“You know, this seems really familiar to me.” Yoongi teased and Y/N let out a watery laugh. She sniffled and Yoongi suddenly scooted closer to her, removing one arm from his jacket and offering her the chance to move into his side. Y/N did, cuddling into Yoongi as he wrapped the jacket around her shoulders protectively. She rested her head on his shoulder, one of her hands placed on his chest. If anyone would’ve came by, they’d think the two of them were together.

“High school, senior year. My date dumped me in the middle of prom and I ran away.” Y/N shook her head in disbelief at her past self.

“And I went after you after I beat that asshole to a pulp.” Yoongi chuckled and Y/N joined in with her own soft laugh.

“You wrapped your arm around me and comforted me, then we went out to get breakfast.” Y/N chuckled, looking up at Yoongi.

“You’re forgetting the best part of that night though.” Yoongi mumbled as he reached up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“That was the best part for you, Yoongi.”

“Hey, can you blame a guy?” Yoongi asked as he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. Y/N sighed.

“No, I don’t blame you for kissing me that night. I remember that I enjoyed it.” She mumbled and Yoongi heaved out a sigh.

“Past tense.” He pointed out and Y/N nodded. He sighed again.

“Well, I’ll have you know, darling, that I still enjoy that kiss I shared with you.” Yoongi felt more than heard Y/N laughing against his body.

“I know you do.”

“And you know I love you, right?” Y/N raised her head from his shoulder, leaning up to place a peck against his cheek.

“I know you do, even if we don’t love each other in the same way.” Y/N said softly.

“Hey, I’ll take what I can get.” He shot her a quick smile before tugging her closer. “Maybe one day I’ll love you like you love me, but then that kiss would be tarnished if I started to love you like you were my sister.”

“It wouldn’t if you just thought of that particular memory of us as just Yoongi and Y/N.”

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, abruptly changing the conversation. Y/N sighed.

“Yes, Yoongi, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, you already know I’d do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“I know, and that thought honestly scares me a little.”

“Hey, you’re my girl, I have no choice but to protect you,” even though he said it playfully, Y/N knew his words were serious.

“I know, and I know I can’t argue with you on that.” The two fell into a comfortable silence, content with watching the leaves swirl around.

“You wanna talk about it?” Yoongi asked softly. Y/N heaved a sigh.

“I just can’t believe those two, arguing like that in front of everyone. And then them having the nerve to try and decide what’s right for me? Jerks.” She kicked a pile of leaves by her foot and Yoongi watched with blank eyes.

“I think you have the right to be upset, you should never let a man decide how you should live your life. I’ve always given you that freedom, though I’m protective.” He paused. “However, I think they both care about you a lot. They just want you to be happy.”

“I know they do…but it’s hard to be happy when two of the most important people in my life are going at each other’s throats.” Y/N huffed. Yoongi hummed softly.

“You want my thoughts, from a guy’s perspective?” Y/N nodded.

“Well, I think Hoseok feels threatened by Jimin, and vice versa.” Y/N sat up, looking at Yoongi inquisitively.

“Explain.”

“Hoseok knows how close you and Jimin are, hell you live with the man for god’s sake. If I were Hoseok, I’d feel threatened by you being so close with another man. Hoseok probably has this thought that Jimin will somehow take you away from him.”

“But Hoseok knows we’re just friends.”

“Doesn’t matter, he’ll still want to be protective of you. Even a slight threat can put a guy on edge. You just got to reassure him that you do love him, and that you won’t leave him.” Yoongi always put things simply, and for that Y/N was grateful. She always came to Yoongi with her problems; for his great advice, and because of their connection with each other.

Ever since that night, the two of them have always shared something special. Yoongi confessed but Y/N declined. Yoongi was disappointed, but he told Y/N it would never affect their friendship, vowing to always be there for her. The fact that Yoongi didn’t cut things off their friendship for her sake, made her admire and love Yoongi even more. Yes, she knew the skinship they shared meant something different for each of them, but Yoongi was happy and content in just being in her life even without romantic pretenses; all for her. He cared so much, and because of that, the two were almost as close as Y/N and Jimin were.

“And Jimin?” she asked.

“Well I think Hoseok was right calling Jimin jealous. I mean, Jimin has been by your side since you two could barely talk and now you’re pulling away from him for another guy. You’re his closest confidential, his best friend and sanctuary. It’s no wonder he doesn’t like Hoseok. I’d feel the same way if someone tried to take my spot in your life.” Y/N shivered and Yoongi pulled her closer, his arm around her shoulder growing tighter.

“But Jimin has Wheein,” Y/N scowled, “He’s always with her nowadays, I only really get to see Jimin during class and at night when we have our occasional midnight talks. I don’t understand why he gets so mad at me spending time with Hoseok when he’s not even around himself.”

“Oh? Is this a bit of loneliness I sense?” Yoongi teased.

“I do miss Jimin, and I wish we could be together like we used to be, but he’s never there anymore…so naturally I always go to Hobi’s, but then when I come home he’s sitting there like we were supposed to meet ages ago. I just don’t know what he wants from me.”

“Well…have you ever thought if he feels the same way? Maybe he feels like you’ll never be there for him because you’re always with Hoseok, so then he just goes to Wheein’s instead of trying to hang out with you? Honestly, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on here, and I think you two need to talk and sort out your feelings, maybe even reserve a day out of the week where it’s just the two of you. No boyfriends, no girlfriends, no phones to talk to them, just you two.”

“That sounds…ingenious Yoongi.” Y/N smiled and Yoongi couldn’t help but show her one as well.

“What can I say? Just call me amazing and bask in my wonderful life skills.” Y/N chuckled and playfully flicked his forehead.

“Says the guy that forgets to eat when he works.”

“Hey, once I’m in my composing zone, I can never get out baby.” Y/N just rolled her eyes and snuggled deeper into Yoongi and his warm jacket. They sat and held each other for a while until Yoongi’s phone rang.

“Yeah?” Yoongi asked boredly when he answered it. Y/N could hear someone yelling from the other line and Yoongi held the phone at a distance to prevent his ear from combusting.

“It’s Jin, for you.” Yoongi handed her the phone and she lifted it to her ear attentively.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?! Oh, thank God, you’re alright. We were worried sick, none of the boys have left and you’re not answering our calls or texts and-“

“Oppa please, I’m fine with Yoongi oppa here protecting me.” She saw Yoongi smirk out of the corner of her eye, tightening his hold on her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. But maybe you should come back, yeah? Hoseok seems really distraught, and Jimin hasn’t stopped pacing since he finished his dessert.” Y/N bit her lip, she didn’t want to spend the night with either of those two, she just really wanted some alone time.

“Jin oppa, can you put Jungkookie on?” she heard the phone rustle and suddenly Jungkook was speaking to her.

“Y/N?”

“Hey Kook.”

“Jesus, you gave us a fright…what’s wrong, I’d thought you’d want to talk to Jimin hyung or Hoseok hyung?”

“Is it cool if I stay at yours and Tae’s tonight, I just kinda need to be away from those two for a little bit.” She chuckled and Yoongi rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

“Let me ask Tae and see if he’s cool with it.”

Even though Jungkook moved the phone away from his ear, Y/N could hear three different voices speak at once when the question left his lips. First was Tae agreeing enthusiastically. Then she heard Jimin yell something like “not coming home?!” and Hoseok’s voice immediately after yelling “or mine either?!”. Then she heard Jin yelling at the three boys to quiet down with his loud shrill voice and they all instantly fell silent.

“Uh yeah, Tae’s cool with it. He really wants to…what?” Y/N heard a mumble then Jungkook giggle. “He wants to paint your nails.” Y/N chuckled.

“I’d love that. But, can you put both Hoseok and Jimin on the phone? Speaker?” she heard Jungkook mumble in agreement before the two boys rushed to speak.

“Y/N I am so so sorry-“

“No babe, I’m sorrier. I was being so immature-

“I’m sorry for provoking Hoseok, I never wanted to hurt you-“

“I shouldn’t have fought with him like that, it’s so stupid-“

“Hoseok and I agreed to try and make things better between us-“

“We want you to be happy baby but we know you need both of us-“

“So, we’ll both try harder-“

“I’m so sorry love, truly I am-“

“Y/N I wish I could take it back, I’m sorry for upsetting you-“

“I never wanted to hurt you baby-“

“Y/N you know I never want to make you cry-“

“Really love-“

“What I’m trying to say Y/N is-“

“I’m sorry.” They both finished in unison and the line went silent. She could hear the boys breathing and nervously fidgeting.

“I’m not upset, at least, not as much as I was.” She spoke softly and she could hear the boys sigh in relief.

“Y/N I’ll make it up to you-“

“Baby, I promise I won’t screw up again-“

“Boys,” Y/N cut them off and they both closed their mouths with a snap. Yoongi nodded, encouraging Y/N on. She took a deep breath before she spoke again.

“I need to think and sort my thoughts out tonight, that’s why I’m not going to either of you and I’m staying at Kook’s and Tae’s. I promise tomorrow I’ll talk to you both, and hopefully we can make some positive changes for the better. Hobi?”

“Yes love?” she could hear his nerves over the phone and she could picture Hoseok practically shaking with jitters.

“I love you, okay?”

“I love you too, so much.” He responded immediately.

“Jimin?”

“Yes, Y/N?” she could hear his nervousness too.

“And I love you.”

“Y-Yeah, I love you too.” Jimin’s stutter made Y/N giggle.

“Okay, are we good for tonight? No one’s going to go home feeling like shit, right?” she heard the boy’s chuckle and give their affirmatives.

“Good. Kookie, I’ll see you in fifteen.” She hung up and handed the phone back to Yoongi.

“You handled it well, I’m proud.” He complimented her was a ruffle of her hair,

“Care to walk me back Yoongi?” he stood, guiding Y/N along to make sure that she still had the warmth of the jacket around her. He placed a kiss on top of her head and started to head towards his and Jin’s home.

“It’s always my pleasure to Y/N.”