#so it's important to get it repaired as soon as possible.

[alltimefail]

Random thought that could could absolutely be nothing, an over-analyzation of sorts even, but I have always found it interesting that in the Devlin house episode Charles gets sucked into the loop starting from the point he snaps at Edwin about him "Not being the all-knowing expert on all things." It's especially interesting to me because after he does so, Edwin tells Charles that he's "...Not acting like himself at all."

In theory, Charles could have just reappeared when Mr. Devlin turns the corner or when he approaches Mr. Devlin here:

because if the point of repetition here is to show us that the abuse Charles suffered at the hands of his own father is what causes him to get trapped in the loop, either of those moments would have been sufficient in supporting that idea. The dialogue shared beforehand between him and Edwin has little to do with the point at hand...unless...

Charles feeling pain about his own father isn't the whole sum of why he gets trapped in the loop; his fear that he's just LIKE his father, that he's not a good person, that he's "Cruel for the shits," and capable of hurting the people he loves (and thus undeserving of their love) is also what traps him in the loop, and that's why his "loop" starts with him snapping at Edwin.

Even though we as viewers can empathize with and understand why Charles snaps at Edwin given the circumstances, it's very unlikely that Charles extends that same grace to himself. I would argue that we see the multi-faceted layers of his trauma explored in various ways from this moment on. Charles himself even later admits that all he feels is anger despite the fact that he wants to be "a good guy." Charles has yet to understand that it's possible to be good and feel anger, that anger in and of itself is not bad, and that feeling strong negative emotions like grief or anger does not make a person dangerous or abusive like his father was...nor does it guarantee that he would use his anger to harm others. So, with that in mind, of course Charles' loop would start with him lashing out at Edwin, as opposed to it just starting with him lashing out at Brandon Devlin; it's not just about feeling powerless to stop the abuse, it's about feeling like you play a role in it. It's about the deep-rooted fear that maybe you actually deserved the abuse you suffered because you are not good, and just by being related to an abuser you are damned to be just like them, or worse. Charles worries about who he truly is, deep down, and that maybe Edwin is wrong when he says that Charles isn't acting like himself: maybe the darkest parts that he works so hard to bury are actually who he truly is, and his ability to throw careless, harmful, biting words at someone he loves deeper than anyone else may be a reflection of this. After all, his father loved his mother, he loved Charles, and look what he did to them... how he hurt them beyond repair. What if he is the same?

OR: the trauma Charles deals with isn't only the violence his father enacted on him (shown through what Brandon Devlin does to his family), but it's also the violence he feels capable of enacting himself (shown through his ability to throw harsh words toward Edwin who Charles openly claims is the "most important person in the world" to him).

What furthered this idea even more for me (and added a bit of salt to the wound frankly) was Crystal and Edwin's reactions to Charles being pulled into the loop. Out of shock, confusion, and frustration Crystal immediately turns to Edwin for answers but for a moment he is just frantic and uncharacteristically frazzled, only able to say, "Charles was right, I don't know everything..." and OUCH, right? But it emphasizes that 1) what Charles said to Edwin was quite hurtful, 2) that it did have an (unintentional) impact on Edwin, and 3) that Charles himself very well might have realized it was hurtful as soon as it left his mouth thus, again, why it would make sense that his loop began there.

It takes a strong emotional reaction to be pulled into a loop; the possibly that this moment was written to work on two levels of Charles' inner turmoil is quite clever (and extremely heartbreaking).

Again, it could absolutely be nothing... but it's worth pondering!!

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 6

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT!, soft, fluff, sick reader, soft dean, fingering, teasing, intimacy, love is in the air, confessions, naive sam, awkward and touch starved dean

Word Count: 14.9K (huuuuhh)

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Deathbeds' by Bring Me the Horizon Click for Series Masterlist!

When you said those three words in the most forceful yet gentle way possible, Dean's eyes widened in surprise. There was a long, heavy stillness now. As you recovered your calm, you realized you were holding your breath and examining every facial expression. Only surprise was there. His lips parted as though he was looking for something to say as you let go of his hand and turned around, tidying up the mess. Your heart was racing so hard that you didn't want him to say anything at all. All you wanted to do was flee and scream because you felt foolish and reckless.

Since the night you allowed him to touch you, you have done everything in your power to keep your friendship intact and stay healthy. It was absurd how simple it was to sever your relationship with just three words. They were sincere, though. There was no turning back now. In reality, touching each other in the most intimate way could never repair what you had broken down. You had feelings for him for a long time, but it would be simpler if you had no feelings at all.

Even though you repeatedly reminded yourself that you didn't want Dean to treat you like any other hookups, you didn't want that. You wanted to feel taken care of and at least somewhat liked by him. You wanted to be special for him and get intimate. 

You could now see, though, how self-centered you truly were about it. Even though you didn't intend to be truthful with him about your little secret, you should have been honest from the very beginning. Without hesitation or second-guessing, you told him how you truly felt, and there was no way to undo what had happened. With your heart pounding, you quickly walked to Sam's side after gulping without looking back at Dean. You believed you were having a heart attack or something because of how quickly and powerfully your heart was beating against your chest. 

Your coworker looked at Dean and you strangely, as though she had detected something, and Sam was staring at you both with the same bizarre look. However, when he saw Dean's hand covered in bandages, his face shifted.

As you assisted him in getting up with Dean, you questioned, “How did you even manage to hurt yourself like this?” You didn't look back at Dean, but you could feel his gaze on you. 

“I guess I was being a little too confident,” he moaned painfully. You nearly laughed when you saw Sam's puppy face. He said, “Dean, are you okay?”

There was a strong desire to flee without turning around. You could throw up there because your heart was beating so hard. You were feeling nauseous from that overwhelming feeling. In fact, you were feeling ill. It didn't matter if being honest was important; you were now doomed. You were lying to yourself; it was completely unnecessary for you to display such bravery by saying it. Saying such things in a hectic situation was easy, but how could you now look Dean in the eye from now on?

You may wish to think about moving as soon as you can. To avoid Dean, it would really be preferable if you spent the night with Robb. God, why would he ever come to the hospital and say things like that to make you feel weak and make you say such things? He should have understood how his words and behavior affected you.

“I'm...alright,” Dean murmured quietly. His voice was a quiet whisper as he spoke. You legs felt shaky.

“You both are okay, but careful with the wounds,” you managed to murmur before Sam carefully stood up. 

As Dean assisted him, Sam grumbled in a concerned tone, “You look horrible. You're working a lot nowadays. It is important that you take some time to yourself, right? Just to rest a little at least. If you quit working, the whole country won't just die. You know, you can come over tonight. Dean would prepare dinner for the three of us. Well, I can invite Ruby, too. We haven't spent a day together in a while.”

You've never felt more miserable in your life than when Dean looked at Sam. Even though you heard noises coming from Dean's room when Jo was with him weeks earlier, you thought you would never feel so bad. You were wrong. That was the worst. Without attempting to ascertain Dean's thoughts at the moment, you said hastily, “You're... right, but I'll be working some time more, and I'll think I'll have some rest afterwards.”

Sam waited for Dean to break the tension and convince you, although you did look a bit uncomfortable. When Dean didn't speak or interrupt, Sam was perplexed, which made things a little awkward. Sam gave a sigh. “Okay. You are welcome to visit whenever you like. I'm just saying, Don't ignore my texts.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said, attempting to lighten the situation by caressing his wound, but he made a sound of pain. It was impossible to change the atmosphere between you and Dean, but you hurried away as if you had been saved when you were called in to see another patient. 

After some time, you sipped some water, but your stomach hurt and your throat still felt dry. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, yet it wasn't because you were hungry or too exhausted to stand. You tried to convince yourself that there was nothing wrong with your body and that you just needed to get some sleep after washing your hands and face.

Though you were ready to exit the restroom, you started throwing up. You attempted to hang on somewhere, but the bitter taste made you gag more. This time, you found yourself crying when you began to throw up. Perhaps it was a result of all the stress you were under due to the past few days. You simply felt dreadful. 

You heard someone say, “Oh my god,” as she placed a hand on your back and massaged it as though she wanted to soothe you. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded hastily, embarrassed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your gut. “I am.” As you proceeded to puke into the closet, tears streamed down your cheeks. Your colleague's hand continued to touch your back as your knees brushed the dirt off the floor. You were too focused on yourself to pay attention to the questions she was asking.

“Are you pregnant?”

When you attempted to tidy up yourself, you stated, “No!.”

“Really,” she said in a worried voice as she glanced at your lower abdomen. “You were just doing okay, you know.”

“Really, I'm not pregnant. I'm sure,” you attempted to persuade her. “Not much happened recently. I suppose I'm just a little unwell.”

While others entered the restroom and departed after they gave you odd looks, she nodded and helped you with cleaning up. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you sobbed softly, embarrassed by your body's reaction to Dean's overwhelming presence. You were aware that it was only psychological. You were already exhausted and were making every effort to suppress everything that had been causing you days of anxiety. At last, your body had surrendered and rejected your indifference.

You said, “I guess I just need some break,” before she asked any more questions. “I shouldn't have put in so much work in the first place.” She gave you a short nod and rubbed your arms.

“Well, I suppose not. You should not overexert your body, as you are aware of this. Your eyes beg you to go for a nap. How you were able to keep upright for so long is a wonder.”

“Yeah.” You smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you. I believe I can handle myself now.”

Taking a quick glimpse in the mirror and realizing how pale your face appeared, you washed your mouth and face to get rid of the awful taste and smell. She gave you more advice, but shortly after, she exited the bathroom while you cleaned your face and agreed with all she said. You were hoping to take a seat on the floor and unwind for a while. But you knew that all you needed to do was return home and shut yourself off from the outside world.

Dean wasn't chatting as much as he used to, so Sam complained a little on the way home. When Dean reminded him not to get carried away on hunts, he sounded harsh, but Sam ignored his erratic attitude. The ache in Sam's abdomen was making him goran in pain. God, that would take a while to heal. Fortunately, Dean would recover soon enough. His hand was going to heal far more quickly.

Given how silent Dean stayed, Sam couldn't help but think about how you two had been acting somewhat strangely this past weekend. He pondered; maybe Sam didn't see it properly since something happened between you two. Sam followed Dean as he sat on the coach, seeing him put his fingertips to his lips and lose himself in contemplation, dwelling on things Sam couldn't anticipate. Sam pretended to be fiddling with his phone as he watched his big dumb brother play with his lips and ruminate.

In the meantime, Dean pondered over the three words you told him as though they were the simplest to utter aloud. Dean's heart constricted as he continued to reflect on the day he unknowingly took your virginity and made the first move. He was trying to figure out what was going on between you and him by replaying the same scenarios in his mind, but he was drowning in uncertainty and a flood of emotions.

He was no longer able to recall why he had made the first move weeks before. It didn't make sense to blame each other for ruining your friendship. Now it could not be fixed. In separate ways, each of you was guilty. But why he didn't care about that at all was beyond Dean's grasp. 

Dean became irritated with himself for not seeing you clearly when he recalled certain specific memories involving you. Perhaps it was always obvious—you were obvious—but he had inadvertently missed it. The three words that left your lips and the way you placed them into expressions without hesitation were replayed in his head while Dean's fingertips brushed his lips and he took a long, deep breath. He was aware that you were always fearless when hunting and all, but he thought that since you avoided getting to know people, you would be afraid to let them in.

Dean believed you.

It would be foolish of him to try to disbelieve you. You were the most genuine and kind person he had ever come across. He smiled quietly to himself, knowing that you had given yourself to him without expecting anything in return and that he was genuinely loved. Though impulsive and free-spirited, Dean was different this time. He felt no regret for it. But he could not yet pinpoint what it was that was making him both excited and annoyed.

“What's wrong with you?” Dean jumped when Sam spoke suddenly. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he was unaware of it. 

When Dean noticed he was bleeding his lips from playing them so wildly, he scowled. His body stiffened. “Nothing.”

Sam was obviously unaware of the situation between you and Dean, but it wasn't because Dean was unwilling to divulge information until certain issues had been handled. He didn't want to add to the awkwardness of the situation.

“Don't lie to me,” Sam grumbled bitterly. “It's obvious something is wrong with you.” In annoyance, Dean rolled his eyes. “With you and Y/N, actually.”

As soon as Dean heard your name, his body tightened, and he flexed his muscles while staring at Sam with his arms folded across his chest. Sam was getting ideas from his silence that were difficult to verbalize. After all, you were friends for a year. However, Sam was aware of his big brother's greedy need to date and sleep with each woman he encountered. Sam breathed, disturbed by the pictures that flooded his head. He had to ask and needed Dean to say no, even though he wasn't eager. 

Dean's eyes widened as Sam put a hand on his forehead as if he wasn't ready to hear the answer, and he asked, “Did you sleep with her?” 

He warily observed his big brother's facial reactions and the way his lips were parted to defend himself, but Dean's words remained in his mouth. Dean finally began, “Why-” but Sam groaned in annoyance as he realized he was right about everything that he thought was inappropriate. 

Sam muttered, “I can't believe you,” in disbelief. He was aware that his brother had always been a playboy and Casanova, but he had hoped that things wouldn't work out with you as well because Sam knew you were looking for something deeper and serious as Dean was in passionate relationships only that didn't last very long. Sam simply knew that Dean hadn't been looking for love lately, even though his brother wasn't that incapable of loving someone or anything. Dean just wasn't searching for anything serious. Sam knew that.

You were different than him about that for sure.

Dean's stance changed as he inhaled deeply, feeling more like the younger brother. His uncertain expression faded. He finally stated, “We are not some goddamn teenagers,” in a firm voice, while dismissing Sam's remark. 

Once Dean basically confirmed what had happened between you and him, Sam folded his arms over his chest as if he were about to deliver a lecture. “What the hell, Dean? We've been friends with her for a while. More than a year, in fact.”

“And?” Dean almost said something even more offensive, like “was being for a year supposed to stop his dick,” but he restrained himself. 

“What do you mean 'and'?” Sam shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “Are you the cause of her recent behavior? It's not her style to work that hard, disregarding interactions and other things.”

Dean had been thinking about the same issues. Of course. But Sam's words struck him hard, causing him to squirm uneasily on the coach. He remained silent and wished Sam would simply stop bothering him. He needed to think about what he should do going forward to avoid making things worse. 

“Possibly.” Dean didn't deny.

“Did you friendzone her?”

“What the heck is it supposed to mean?” Irritated at the word but unsure of its exact meaning, Dean snapped at last. It sounded neither pleasant nor lovely. It was quite hostile. He became irritated at Sam's tone, which suggested that Dean had done something wrong. 

Sam added clumsily, “I mean, you know afterwards,” while Dean waited for him to finish speaking and glared at him. “Did you discuss it? Was she comfortable with it being a one-night stand?” As if he were a teenager, Sam flushed when he spoke about you and Dean in that way. He wondered if Dean had discussed it with you at all. 

“It wasn't a one-night stand,” Dean immediately opposed his brother's hint. 

“What was it then?”

“Not a one-stand obviously,” Dean said in defense. He hoped that his brother would stop asking questions about things that were no longer of interest to him. Dean declined to divulge your little secret or the events of Halloween night to Sam. It was about you and him, and Dean needed to figure it out by himself.

“It was just heat of the moment, then?” Sam made a suggestion, as if he wanted to help his brother open up and understand him. Given how much you've been ignoring him and Dean lately, Sam would not discuss this with you given that he plainly believed you wouldn't be keen to talk about Dean at this time. If you wanted to, you would talk about it already.

“No.”

Sam sighed and acknowledged that his brother wouldn't be quite so easy to break at this time. “For gods sake, Dean,” he mumbled. He wondered if Dean even knew what he was doing. “How do you manage to do complex things when they are so easy to resolve?”

Dean replied, “You wouldn't get it,” with seriousness.

Taking a few snacks from the kitchen, Sam remarked, “Well, I think you're the one who don't get a shit.” The tiny struggle that his brother was experiencing almost made him chuckle. But given what a mess you were, it was readily apparent that Dean was the reason you were suffering. “Does she like you, or do you even like her?”

After turning his head away from Sam, Dean got up and left for his room to avoid getting any more questions and to give himself some space to thoroughly think about how to handle this matter. While his brother was clearly perplexed and waited for a response, Dean remained silent. Still, Dean was also in a difficult situation. After everything that had transpired between you, he wasn't okay with the idea of tossing you away. It was never his intention and would never be.

He cared about you.

As he sat on the bed with his phone in his hands, his pulse was pounding, recalling how you expressed yourself when you truly told him you loved him. Dean was aware of your earnestness. He was too shocked to talk when you left him stunned in the hospital, but now he felt different, as though the purity of your words had somehow roused something within of him. It was incredible how you could always get under his skin in every manner with only basic words.

Knowing that you cared for him for a long time and that your love for him was so gentle that he didn't even notice it until you finally spoke your true feelings made Dean chuckle. He felt compelled to look after you because he felt a stronger, warmer, and deeper connection even though he had taken your virginity. It wasn't about that night. 

Dean liked you.

The reason he took you that night was more than just intense lust. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, and be with you all the way. Even if he was unaware of it when he was with Jo, something had clearly changed in him after that night. Perhaps his intention was to hide something and pretend that you were the same. It wasn't.

You remained the same, but he had changed.

Putting down his phone, Dean undressed and decided to take a shower, as if that would solve. He wanted a little more time to think about you while taking a cold shower. Dean thought about what he should do, knowing that he would have to wait until your shift ended. It would be disappointing if he chose not to speak up with the same courage that you did. You were both grownups, after all.

After driving home, you got inside and promptly put everything you had on the coach. Every part of your body hurts, including your back and stomach. You could no longer throw up, but there was a revolting taste in your mouth that nearly made you puke with disgust. There was nothing left in your body, though. Before taking the medicine, you tried your best to eat something. Once you entered your room, you were under the covers without even changing your clothes. Though you thought you would be fine sooner, your legs were trembling a little.

In simple terms, your body had finally given up because you were so overwhelmed by all that had happened over the past weeks. You reasoned that vomiting might be a metaphor. Your body was working hard to release all of the stress and negative energy that you had long disregarded. After all, you were a nurse. Nobody understood your physique as well as you did.

You tried to persuade your body to go to sleep by closing your eyes, but your mind tricked you by keeping you preoccupied with Dean. You couldn't get him off your mind. His eyes, his touch, his smile, his voice, his face... You couldn't help but yearn for him. That was sick. You needed him so badly.

You used to look after him while he was unwell. You were happy to care for him and did everything in your power to help him recover, not because it was your job. You wanted him to know that anyone could love him and that Sam wasn't the only one who cared for him. You never performed them in order to receive something in return.

But it hit you in the gut when you realized you had no one to look after you. You started weeping in bed as soon as your eyes began to well up. You were unsure of whether you sobbed because you were sick, lovesick, or because of Dean, or because you were in dire need of compassion and no one was there to provide it. It didn't matter why. One by one, you wept for each one.

In order to call Dean right now, you wish you hadn't told him you loved him. You wanted him to come over and stay with you until you felt better. You had to deal with things on your own, whether you had the energy or not, because you had done the most ridiculous thing in your life—telling him you loved him. Your body failed you even if you took several medications.

You were so overcome by your feelings and weary of crying that your frail body finally gave way to sleep. Even though your body ached, all you could think about was Dean.

Dean realized you must have returned home by now after keeping himself occupied with his car and weaponry. Since the morning, you have been on his mind constantly. Even when he peed, ate lunch, and in other situations, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You seemed to be in his veins in some way. However, Dean didn't whine about it. Dean was pacing the room, unsure whether or not he should have texted you. He occupied himself with his searching after taking a shower and made the decision to meet you.

After taking a long breath, he put his hand on his hip and straightened his posture before calling you. Even though he wasn't sure what to say, he planned to have a proper conversation with you and to offer eating dinner outside. You used to stop by several nice locations months ago. He hoped you were hungry.

Once Dean saw that you weren't very eager to pick up his calls, he scowled while he waited for your answer. Nevertheless, he patiently waited for you since he didn't want you to believe that he was reaching out to you in vain. You still avoided responding even though he was stubborn.

Whispering to himself, “Come on,” he waited. His uncertainties vanished and were replaced by curiosity. Dean pondered if you were cutting off him from your life entirely, ignoring him, or being too embarrassed to answer his calls. That would be ridiculous. Dean didn't believe he had done anything to encourage you. You were doing okay up until now.

Dean was abruptly irritated by your choice to tell him how you felt and to not allow him to react, making all of the decisions on your own and leaving everything up in the air. With a decision made, he exited his room, placed his phone in his pocket, and got into his car. Since the morning, he had been experiencing some worry and a slight lack of confidence. But suddenly it was all gone. Everything would be resolved once you could work things out and have a straightforward conversation.

When Dean noticed that every light was on, he patiently waited outside before calling you again. He wondered whether you were deliberately making him irritated by being so insistent. As he unlocked the door with the keys you handed him a month ago, Dean took a deep breath and felt proud of the trust you placed in him. That trust was something he prayed Robb or no one else did not have. He desired it all for himself. Sharing was something Dean disapproved of.

Feeling like a teenager, Dean's heart pounded wildly on his chest as he entered your house. You were nowhere to be seen in his sight. Disturbed, he called your name while acting awkwardly. Hiş voice came out softer than he had anticipated and refrained from calling you in an affectionate manner, with lovely nicknames. He had no idea how much he wanted to establish a fresh relationship with you until now.

As soon as Dean saw your bag on the coach, he became stiff and worried. He wasn't happy with the silence. With a brief glance around, Dean came inside your room without knocking. There was nothing to hear in the home except the creaking of the door. He observed your sleeping body after he turned on the lights.

A ghostly smile came on Dean's lips as he took a big breath, his heart so full of relief. But as soon as he saw you were humming in your sleep, his smile vanished. You weren't sleeping peacefully; it was apparent. You appeared to be in agony or suffering from nightmares.

With a swift motion, Dean sat down on the bed and instantly placed his palms on your forehead to take your body temperature. You weren't okay, but it wasn't like you were burning. He placed his palm on your warm cheek again and gently said your name to wake you.

Your eyelids slowly opened as you felt rough hands dancing across your flesh, but initially you were unable to see who was caressing you. Yet you recognized that sweet voice. You searched for strength as you started to come to your senses.

“Dean?” you eventually managed to whisper. You groaned in disdain at the irritating taste in your throat. Your body and spirit had finally been overtaken by the illness. Your body felt very little at that time, and you were so weak and lazy. The air was so chilly that your fingers clenched around the blanket.

This time, he mumbled, “Hey, sweetheart,” with worry. You had no idea if your mind was playing ridiculous games with you. Perhaps that was your brain's way of safeguarding you to feel a bit better. You tried to open your eyes, but you were unable to tell the difference between hallucinations and the real world.

You just mumbled something, but your own ears couldn't even hear it.

He said, “I've been calling you for hours,” at least to get you to wake up and start a conversation. “Have you gotten cold? Why didn't you give me a call?”

Despite Dean's best efforts to get you to speak, you only sighed in a whisper and fell back asleep. Remembering how professional you were when he was ill in the past, he felt powerless and was unsure of what to do at the moment. But he could tell you were cold just by the way you looked. Raising Sam taught him things that only parents and doctors should have known. It must have been brought on by working so hard without resting.

He called your name again, but this time you fell asleep again without even letting out a small moan. You gasped as he gently stroked your face and then pushed the cover away. “Come on,” he replied, insistent that you didn't nod off.

You sighed, “I'm cold,” while refusing to let grip of the blanket's corner. You woke up when the cold touched your flesh.

It broke your heart to see Dean on the bed as you opened your sore eyes. The instant your eyes met, the air tightened up. Your hand stopped struggling, and you were unable to stop yourself from crying again. Tears caused your vision to become unclear.

He gently explained, “You've got fever,” and set the blanket aside. “Have you eaten something today?”

You gazed at his attractive face while your tears continued to moisten your burning cheeks. “I don't know,” you replied. Right now, the thought of eating something makes you feel nauseous. All you wanted was to get into bed and go to sleep, to doze off till you healed.

“You haven't eaten anything, then. All right,” he said and attempted to assist you in standing up by placing his hand on your arms. Even though you knew he wasn't being harsh or anything, his hands seemed heavier. You started crying uncontrollably because you felt vulnerable. Dean was talking to you as though you hadn't declared your love hours before, and your back was already hurting a lot.

He whispered, “Why are you crying now?” curiously. His fingertips hovered over your arms as though to soothe your body, but you were afraid that he had created something that would physically harm you. “Are you hurt somewhere?”

You just said, “I want to sleep,” while glancing at him. Your view was so vague that it was impossible to see his face properly.

The way you gazed at Dean with the big tears still streaming from your crimson eyes warmed his heart. He really wanted to calm you down, reassure you, and make you feel better, but he understood he had to deal with your body first. “Come on,” he said. “I'll prepare you the greatest soup ever, which will help you recover quickly, but first you should take a good, cold shower. The soup will be fantastic, I assure you.”

It didn't seem like Dean's attempt to brighten your mood was successful. You lowered your gaze and remained quiet, as though you were not listening to him. His question was abrupt: "Do you want me to help you shower?" He didn't make any nasty suggestions. Dean was just trying to figure out how to get you feeling better, and he was ready to do anything.

“What? No!”

You were worried about how serious he was now, and the thought of him helping you shower startled you up.

“Don't be childish. Regarding health and medical matters, there is no shame. You are more educated about this than I am,” he mumbled, overjoyed by your reaction. Even though Dean had already seen everything, he didn't say it to embarrass you even more. “Your fever has to be treated right now. And if you continue to act obstinate, you know, I'll have to take you to the bathroom myself.”

In order to persuade you, Dean spoke in a very serious tone. “Act more reasonably, as you are the nurse here and should know better.” Dean sighed as he saw your feeble figure and helped you get up, which you did not object to this time. The first thing you said was “Okay.” Now you stopped crying. “I can handle myself.”

You gave him a quick, shy glance, and Dean gave you a very suspicious look. “Good girl. While you take a quick shower, I will quickly cook a delicious soup for you. Don't make me check on you, okay?”

You whispered, “Alright,” as your body guided you to the bathroom. You indeed had to take a fast, cold shower. You couldn't help but feel a bit cheerful even though your head hurt. It felt so good to be cared for by him that you could be sick all the time.

After your brief shower, you stretched your muscles and finally put on your pajamas, feeling as though your bones had been renewed. The number of hours you slept without even changing your trousers was extraordinary. Dean was right. After your little shower, you've been feeling slightly better. The exhaustion was still present, though. Your eyelids couldn't stay open at all.

The kitchen was still being used by Dean. You had no energy at all, even though you really wanted to go there and talk to him. Your fingers were clenched around the blankets to keep your body warm as you began to tremble and you found yourself back in bed. You were cold. Your mind also calmed down and ceased ripping apart you with negative ideas about Dean while he was around. You were finally free of pain. Your body continued to unwind beneath the covers while he came to check on you and spoke to you, giving the impression that he wasn't mad at you or anything. The headache had almost gone away. You just needed to relax by getting some sleep.

From a distance, you could hear him calling your name, but you lacked the power to take action.

“Hey,” he grumbled. Dean arrived in your room with a cup of soup. “You're not sleeping yet. Not until you finish eating this miraculous soup. Are you aware of the amount of work I put into it?”

Knowing what he was going to do, you hugged the covers tightly. Your body shivered, and you moaned in protest as he pushed the blankets away, just as you thought he wouldn't be able to remove them from your hands this time. The smell of soup only made you scowl in disdain; it had no nice scent. You had no desire to ever eat something again.

“I just need some sleep.” You cringed at your sick tone.

After making you get up just enough to allow you to start eating your soup, Dean gently sat down next to you and placed the tray on his lap. He gave you a gentle push before your tired hands picked up the spoon, adding, “You just lay down nicely, sick nurse.” He did everything he could to cheer you up and start a conversation. Rather, he saw that your cheeks were flushed, which was adequately amusing.

As soon as the spoon reached your lips, you groaned in agony due to the extreme warmth. You didn't say anything to avoid coming out as ungrateful. “Sorry for that,” Dean said in a regretful whisper while blowing out the smoke a few times with an apologetic look. He didn't change his mind when you told him that you could handle yourself.

Every time he calmly blew the smoke before you ate, you saw that he had changed his clothes. Dean was wearing pajamas now as well. You pondered where he would be sleeping, and your heart melted at the idea of him spending the night with you. In order to prevent him from reading your face, you nibbled your inner cheeks and focused on the soup's flavor. It was really excellent. Dean was correct to create a miraculous soup that may accelerate your recovery from illness. You were already feeling better, even if you still had backache.

“Thank you, Dean.” You frowned and turned your head away from the spoon, refusing to consume the entire soup when you felt your nausea returning. “I

think that's enough,” you murmured timidly.

Thankfully, Dean placed the tray aside while you used tissue to wipe the corners of your lip. After displaying a few of your medications in his palm, he inquired, “Which one do you need to take? Since they do not have boxes, it is impossible to determine which one is helpful.”

Your cheeks flushed as you saw one of the pills you had been taking since the night with Dean in his hands, but you remained silent. At this time, you were relieved that he was rather naive. There was a pregnant silence in the room as you picked the right one, drank a glass of water, and then wrapped yourself with warm blankets once more. You instantly closed your eyes to keep from looking directly at Dean. As a result of Dean's crushing presence, your eyelids were firmly closed and your heart was racing.

You wanted to let him know how wonderful he was and how his compassion and sincerity made you feel better than you had in a long time. However, you were not allowed to utter any of those. You had so much you wanted to say at the moment, but you held it back out of shame and guilt. You turn away from Dean and pay close attention to his movements in the room, hoping he won't talk about what you told him and will pretend it never happened. If he couldn't love you back, you just wanted him to be this way forever. It meant the world to you that he was taking care of you in this way. It was quite adequate.

Dean immediately climbed into the bed after you had closed your eyes. Your body stiffened up, and your heart began racing as soon as you felt his weight on the bed. The way he affected you was embarrassing. But even though you knew it was only an act of kindness, it still made you unfulfilled and sad. Because you wished so desperately for him to feel the same way about you, it became a prayer. Your body longed for him—to experience his comforting presence and touch.

“Are you feeling better now?” The silence was disturbed by Dean placing his palm on your forehead to measure your temperature. Hearing his talk so near made your body shiver, and you could feel his hefty presence just behind you. You closed your eyes as though something would happen and he would leave. You could have broken at any time since your body was so rigid.

You muttered, “Yes,” as your back hurt like it was trying to prevent you from getting a good night's sleep. “Just a sore back. Overworking must be the cause.”

With a sudden connection, you gasped as his large hands began rubbing your back. You began moaning a bit with relaxation since the intense closeness of the situation was so overpowering. When Dean felt your tight body slowly letting go under his touch, his lips curved pleasantly. There was nothing sexual about the moment. Dean kept on massaging your back in the hopes that it might make you feel better.

After caressing your back enough, he moved to place his head directly behind yours and withdrew his hand. You realized you had shifted till your head was resting on his thick neck, and you wished he hadn't been listening to your heartbeats when he was so close. You felt safeguarded, but perhaps it was your sleep or the touch of him that made you impulsive. The moment was so lovely and delightful that it couldn't have been produced by the wildest dreams.

Dean's hard kiss on the back of your head caused your lips to parted. Once he smelled your hair, you were relieved you had showered. He said, “You smell so nice and fresh,” moving slightly to ensure that you both slept well.

Your body relaxed even more as you let your head drop back a bit more and kept your eyes closed as soon as his hand took yours into his warm ones. Your lips may brush across his chin if you make a small movement. You no longer wanted to sleep; all you wanted was to savor that moment of perfection indefinitely and to keep quiet about it. Your mind and soul had been craving that intimacy for months.

Both of your hands remained on your stomach as Dean's hand continued to touch your fingertips. His breathing caught your attention. The only sound in the room was the rain that had begun to fall outside. As Dean's hands continued to touch you in harmony, the calm sounds of the raindrops filled your entire being with fulfillment and a state of bliss more than the last time, as though each one were filling a hole in the pit of your soul.

You didn't know if it meant something for Dean. But that didn't matter. Whatever Dean was prepared to offer you, you were prepared to embrace it. As soon as your exhaustion gave way to sleep again and you sensed Dean getting closer, you knew it was time for a restful night's sleep.

After a long and pleasant sleep, you stretched your body in between sighs of delight. You smiled a bit as you felt Dean's hand on yours, thinking he was still asleep. Taking advantage of the fact that he didn't move behind you, you leaned your back on his chest a bit further.

“Good morning to you too,” Dean remarked abruptly in an amusing manner, causing you to jump and then freeze in shame.

You said, “Morning,” as if you hadn't just been brushing against his body.

“Slept well, I guess.” To check if you still had a fever, Dean touched your forehead and asked. Fortunately, you were fine. He was happy to be able to help you the way you deserved, and it filled his chest with pride.

“Yeah, thank you, Dean, for taking care of me.” As you thanked him for enhancing your mood in every manner while your mind considered saying different things. Dean, overcome with excitement, moved behind you so he could meet your gaze. Your muscles stiffened up once again as you worried about what was coming. Right now, you didn't want to talk at all.

When Dean moved, your hands were waiting on each side of you, hovering over your body. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, paying close attention to your eyes. As you considered what to say, you licked your dried lips. You were ready for rejection, but you wanted to keep yourself composed so that your friendship wouldn't end over something so... dumb.

“That night, I didn't want to upset you or hurt your feelings.” He said, “When I found out about... You know,” without bringing it up to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. “It didn't go...waste.”

You shook your head and mumbled, “Dean,” disturbed that he actually believed it to be a serious issue. He interrupted you before you could respond and continued.

He stated, “What's special to you is special to me as well,” in a firm tone.

With beseeching eyes, you murmured, “It's not special, I promise, I swear,” so that he would never feel guilty for something he was uninformed of. You alone made that choice. He was correct to hold you responsible for something he had no control over. You need to have apologized for it. “I never expected anything in return.” Even though your cheeks were flushed, you continued firmly, “I would never.” You understood that in order to mend your disagreements, you needed to have this talk.

He said, “I know, I know,” as if that wasn't what he was attempting to convey. “I just want you to know how pleased I am that it was me. It didn't go wasted, alright? Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” You hurriedly answered with a sweet tone. “There is nothing to be forgiven,” and in an attempt to convince him of your sincerity, one of your hands instantly reached up and caressed his arm.

Your gentle touch caused Dean's eyes to soften and his body to relax. When he saw that you were panting deeply and that he was nearly on top of you, he gulped and licked his dry lips. His thoughts were swiftly superseded by other things. At last, his eyes ceased observing you as you chewed your lips. Dean made an effort to focus on your small talk.

The idea of going on a date with you made his heart race. Dean was ready to go all the way with you. He knew, however, that he should be doing it right. If he weren't a grown man, he would be blushing at the thought of your proclamation of love for him. He wouldn't talk about it until you were more comfortable and at ease with him. Dean knew you were a little shy right now. “Now that you're feeling better, would you like to go out tonight? With me?”

“For what?” you inquired naively. Your fingertips were gently massaging his biscep.

This time, Dean smiled when he saw your look of confusion. Whether or not it made you shy, it seemed like he had to start acting braver from now on. “A date?”

Your lips were parted in shock as your hands went down on his muscles. You continued to stare into his beautiful green eyes as you attempted to make sense of what he was saying so you wouldn't ridicule yourself in front of him. You weren't sure whether he meant something else, but he appeared to be rather serious. “What date?”

As Dean said, “I'm assuming we both are ready to make little amendments about our relationship,” he began to get closer to you. Already, the gentle motion of your fingertips on his arm was causing him to imagine inappropriate things. When you showed him how bold you were in your love declaration, Dean wouldn't dare to deny his own feelings for you. He was eager to see how well you two could work together since he had such affection for you.

Though your heart was racing, you couldn't help but feel a little insecure because of the way things had been going lately. If Dean was acting this way because he had taken your virginity without knowing about it, it would hurt you more than anything he had said. “Dean,” you finally muttered, “I would never force you into something you're not into just because of such an insignificant thing. It doesn't matter. I swear,” you said firmly, though your voice was a little cracked, but you needed him to believe you because you were totally honest about it. “I cannot undo what I have told you, but I'm willing to keep our... friendship maintained. I don't want to lose-”

Dean decided to disregard your words and let your actions speak more by capturing your lips and silencing you, even though you made earnest attempts to convince him that you were okay with moving forward as you have in the past. You were so shocked that you didn't move as Dean did his best to push his tongue into your mouth by trying to part your lips. His hand lightly brushed your neck in an attempt to elicit a response.

When you eventually regained consciousness, you parted your lips to allow his tongue to enter. As soon as you let him, his frantic kisses slowed and softened, like though you had just been into a fight and he had calmed down. When Dean intensified his seductive kisses, your uncertainties and fears vanished. It was hard to imagine if he would respond to your love in the manner you were hoping for. However, you choose to let him take control and wait patiently to see what comes next.

As he began shifting on the bed and gradually climbing on top of you, you felt hotter the softer your kisses became. He withdrew to let you both catch your breath, but he continued to stroke your burning lips with his reddened ones. Desire flooded your body as though you hadn't been sick the day before.

Dean, who was already having trouble resisting the need to shove himself between your thighs, briefly closed his eyes to gather himself. He didn't intend to do it. Well, for the time being. He moved slightly away to look at you. You were staring at him with such tenderness and love that Dean momentarily stopped breathing. You placed both of your hands from his arms to his neck and shifted your head slightly to signal him to come closer.

Without hesitation, he put his hands around your upper thigh and squeezed it tightly while giving your burning lips another intense kiss. His painful erection was going to take over his body and take over his entire being. He was losing control of himself because of your tender hands on his neck, your fingers following the veins there, your passionate kisses, the tiny moans on his lips, and your tiny movements beneath him. Dean began sucking your bottom lip as you did the same for his top lip after he gave you a gentle squeeze on your thigh to help himself relax.

You eagerly awaited him to place himself between your legs, but Dean seemed to be holding himself back by declining to initiate contact. You hesitated a bit, moved slightly beneath him, and lifted your hips without breaking the kiss, putting one of your hands on his back after gasping at how hard he was. You couldn't keep your hips in the air for very long, so you needed him to pin you down on the bed.

“Dean,” you moaned at last, unsure of how to ask without coming out as desperate.

When Dean heard your tiny moan and his name on your lips, he caught them again to stop you from pleading for more. He wasn't sure how long he could hold back from you. Of course, it wasn't the right moment, but you two were acting too eager to make him think properly. Dean wanted you to know how much you were hardening him with your kisses when he finally placed himself between your legs. After feeling his hardness on your clothed pussy, you moaned into his lips and carefully put one hand beneath his t-shirt to touch his stiff abs.

In order to give you the friction you wanted, Dean grabbed your hips and abruptly pressed himself between your legs, rubbing harder on your pussy. He was ready to strip you right away and shove his cock inside when he felt his body tense beneath your touch. That's not the proper moment, he reminded himself.

Dean moaned against your lips, “We need to calm,” but his body betrayed him, and he kept stroking himself frantically between your legs while stealing little moans from your lips. You were going crazy because of an unsolved pressure between your legs.

You asked innocently, perplexed by Dean's choice to not go all the way, “Why?” Didn't your kisses enough as a response to all that was going on? Your body didn't listen to him at all.

“We don't have to rush things,” he whispered into your mouth. Your lips were swollen and red. But you weren't being stopped.

Even though he was telling you that you didn't need to make any funny business right now, his body was telling you otherwise. In the hopes that Dean might change his mind, you instantly returned Dean's kisses. The idea of becoming something with him and the closeness of his touch sent your pulse pounding with thrill and happiness.

Although Dean's pulsating manhood was screaming for him to act at once, he maintained his composure. He was adamant about doing things correctly and decided not to shove inside of you by lowering your underwear. Instead, he drew himself back a bit and rubbed your clothed pussy through your pajamas to offer you that little ecstasy and calm your body's desires. He touched you gently there, and you immediately gasped with anticipation. Dean closely observed your facial expressions to determine if you were at ease or not. The corner of his lips twisted into a little smile once he was certain that, based on your pleased look, you were perfectly at ease with his touch.

Your pajamas' thin fabric allowed you to feel his large fingers there, slowly following the line of your pussy through it. You let out a little groan and raised your hips higher in order to establish rhythm. You bit your lip to avoid moaning aloud and demonstrating how desperate you already were. It was insufficient to provide you with the same pleasure he had bestowed upon you weeks before. You needed him to touch you there without any fabric between you.

You pleaded with yearning eyes, “Dean, please,” as your hand moved from his tempting abs to his arms, which were massaging you in that precise spot. Dean tormented you as his lips curved with delight and his motions grew even slower, as if he wanted you to beg for more once again. You showed your desire for him by raising your hips again.

“Is that not enough? Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you said, your cheeks flaming with embarrassment at how needy you were already under him while he was in control of his own body, unlike you.

Dean kept his motions steady while you pleaded with him with your eyes and words, looking at your lovely figure underneath him, your messy hair, and your exquisite scent to appreciate the moment more. You hesitate a moment before placing your shaky hands between his legs. You were simply touching and blinking your eyes while you examined his reaction. You weren't palming his erection, but just touching. It would have been so simple for him to thrust himself inside you at this very moment by lowering your underwear. Dean knew he needed to wait a little longer to make the sex flawless, as you deserved, even if he was on the verge of bursting due to the intense closeness he shared with you.

Under your gentle hands, he felt hard and heavy. You wondered why he hadn't already made a move. You didn't have to wait for anything. Dean couldn't help but groan in desire and thrust himself into your hand with a sudden motion that made you gasp in excitement. You were getting wetter by the sounds he let out than he made you with his fingers. His rough, lustful sounds were filling your heart with joy. You wanted him to see how much you wanted to make him feel the same things and to express your deep love for him.

Encouraged by the way he responded to your touch, you squeezed him firmly through his sweatpants, tightening your grip until he shivered and groaned deeply over you. Making him feel this way filled your heart with fulfillment, resulting in your heart racing madly on your chest. Right now, you could do anything he wanted.

Dean's hands grabbed the soft one that was massaging him there and put it behind his back so he wouldn't lose himself entirely. You gave him a perplexed expression. “We will not rush, alright?” he said after kissing you firmly on the lips.

You mumbled, “Fine,” not happy with his answer. You didn't want to appear overly eager, but it appeared that you were not successful. At the very least, you prayed he wouldn't stop rubbing you there.

“I'll give you what you need.”

When Dean dropped your sweatpants and underwear to reveal your dripping pussy to him, a little grin faded from your lips and was replaced by shock. While he was doing this, he continued to gaze at you, analyzing every facial expression to see whether you were actually comfortable. Even if he wouldn't fuck you right now, he would not leave you like this, unsatisfied.

You bit your lips in anticipation as you rested your hands on his back, your knees shaking with enthusiasm. With a little smirk, Dean said, “I wonder if it's wet there.” To lighten the mood, he teased you even though he knew he would find you drenched.

“Yeah, me too,” you said with a little smile, but the way he massaged your thighs extremely slowly, as though to drive you insane, made your legs tremble.

You groaned against his lips as soon as he palmed your pussy to determine your level of wetness. You were certain that your underwear must have been ruined since his fingers moved so effortlessly between your pussy lips. Although Dean was aware that you were leaking there, he was not expecting you to be this soaked. His cock begged to be released as it throbbed against boxers once more. He could slide into you without even making you come. You bit your lip hard as Dean's playful smile changed to one of seriousness and he inserted a finger abrubtly.

Dean moaned as he inserted his finger all the way inside of you, saying, “You feel so tight, so nice.” His praises made you feel at ease and prepared to take in everything he had in store for you. It wouldn't be hard for you to take him if he simply shoved himself into you now, lowering his boxers.

Whispering, “Just for you,” you placed your hands on his neck and ran them over his skin.

He smiled, and his pulse raced with delight at your response. He felt cherished and loved for based on the astounding compassion and affection in your hands. Dean wanted you to surrender yourself to him completely, given that he knew he desired you in every way.

You moaned into Dean's mouth just as he pressed his lips to yours and started to finger you properly, overjoyed by your response. Inside your lips, he hushed his own groans, although he struggled to maintain his composure. Dean was going crazy because of the way you touched his neck and drew him in closer to your mouth. You moaned loudly into Dean's lips as he pushed a second finger. His cock was pulsing with every sound you made now, because you used to be a bit quiet weeks earlier. He enjoyed the fact that while you were laying under him, at his mercy, you were unable to stop your moaning.

You gave him frantic kisses in return, as the pleasure he was giving you caused your walls to tighten around his fingers inside of you. His fingers worked in sync with his tongue in your mouth. You drew back and let out a loud gasp as your head hit the pillow and your back arched as Dean expertly worked with your clit with his thumb and curled his fingers.

He started to finger you more roughly after hearing your desperate moan. He was also biting and sucking your neck wildly, making marks there as if he intended to mark you as his.

He groaned, sensing that you were getting closer. “Do you want me to make you come?” You were failing, but you were holding back in order to prevent yourself from coming too quickly.

You pleaded, “Please, Dean,” sensing that you were getting close. Your body yearned for release, but you didn't want it to stop.

As his meaty fingers continued to torture you with pleasure, he moaned against your lips, “Will you take whatever I give you?”

“I will,” you said hurriedly. “Always.”

“That's my girl,” Dean praised you again and kissed you, his fingers moving more strongly inside you. You moaned loudly as you came around his meaty fingers when he curled them again and hit the perfect spot. You were unable to remain silent any longer due to the intensity of your orgasm. As he absorbed the screams you produced into his mouth, your legs were trembling and your pussy was throbbing.

Dean's other hand aggressively squeezed one of your tits through your t-shirt before placing it beneath your chin before his kisses became softer and relaxed as the effects of your orgasm wore away. This time, as you came to your senses, Dean gave you a very delicate, warm kiss and carefully lifted up your sweatpants and underwear.

The sensation of his smile on your lips made you smile too. Each part of your existence was at ease now. Though shyness started surfacing, that was the most amazing and intense thing you have ever experienced—not hurried, not in quiet, not in the darkness in any way—Dean was aware of the love you had for him and could now see you in the light of day in every possible way imaginable. You sighed with happiness as he withdrew; you could kiss him indefinitely, even if both of your lips were burning.

“You okay?” Taking you into his arms on the bed, Dean asked, panting heavily himself. He still had a noticeable erection, but you could see he wasn't going to go all the way just yet. That was very unfortunate.

With your head resting on his chest and your cheeks heating, you responded, “Very much,” putting your palm to your lips, not looking too cheerful or excited.

Dean was relieved to see you relaxed and doing much better than you had yesterday. Even though his erection still hurt in his sweatpants, he didn't care about it anymore. He embraced you more tightly and made his mind that he was excited to see whatever the future held for you. Dean was struck by the way his heart pounded while you were still panting heavily like a leaf in his arms. The feeling itself was something he didn't want to lose.

After such agonizing weeks, you were now lying on top of him again, closing your eyes this time to savor the precious moment. He didn't say the same three words to you, which you didn't expect already because it wasn't that significant. He had already done so for you; you were truly touched by his kindness, his care for you last night, and—above all—the way he expressed himself via the actions he took. You were fine with using the same three words over and over again. You merely wanted that he never depart from you and continue to care for you in this way.

Dean's phone began to ring shortly after you woke up. You two had to go back to sleep. You didn't have the energy to get up, even though his phone kept ringing. This is how you could sleep forever. Even though your back pain was almost gone, you still wanted to take a little more time to just unwind. You would never again work so hard.

After gently placing you on your side on the cushions, Dean climbed across your body to retrieve his phone from the table next to the bed. Your slumber began to wane as soon as you felt his weight on you, and you yawned and slowly opened your eyes. Dean grumbled and eventually picked up his phone. “Sorry,” he said.

“What happened?” you said, wiping your eyes as you wrapped blankets over your cold body. Your body tenses up at the sound of Sam's voice, and you instantly shut your mouth. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of being heard by him. Dean offered you a wink and a side smile as he listened to Sam, finding your silence cute.

When Sam heard a drowsy voice on the phone, he blinks. All of a sudden, he lost his words. With a bewildered tone, he said, “Are you with Y/N?” He was shocked to learn that Dean met you after spending much of his time in front of the mirror. He was plainly mistaken when he believed his older brother had spent the night with someone else.

“Yeah,” he said. Sam rolled his eyes, but he was unable to contain his chuckle at his brother's haughty and joyful tone.

“You know I can't deal with all the shit out here myself, right?” Sam sighed and asked. He had to ruin your moment even if he didn't want to. Sam pondered whether you two had started dating.

Sam actually pictured you and Robb together because you both had long-standing friendships and similar occupations in the same area. He was unaware that his brother was already eyeing you, and vice versa. He couldn't see the big picture given that he was blind. He heard Dean sigh heavily as Sam went on with the problems he and his brothers had to deal with.

He eventually responded, “Alright, alright, Sam,” in a composed tone. “On my way.”

Since Sam's wounds were still fresh and he needed to take care of himself, you questioned, “Is everything alright?” worried that something had happened to him.

“It's nothing.” Dean stretched his muscles and looked at your body. “He's just being whiny about dealing with werepires, witches, and other strange things without me.”

You shifted on the bed and said, “You both are still wounded,” as Dean stood up and began stripping in front of you to change. You instantly looked down at the bed, embarrassed that you didn't know how to react when he stripped in front of you. You doubted Dean was feeling bashful about the sudden thickening of the air.

“It's alright,” he calmly said. He looked to see whether you had been watching him, but he saw that you were fiddling with the sheets. “Just regular things.”

You realized that you had never seen each other truly naked since the first time, when you were both wearing costumes and it was dark, when you heard him take off his t-shirt. You have never laid eyes on each other's bodies properly in daylight. You felt nervous at the idea. There were moments when you could see his muscles in the upper body or when he was hurt in his belly, but you didn't glance elsewhere except at his wounds to avoid taking advantage of the circumstance. But now you wanted to see him.

“You missed the whole show, I'm just saying.” As he grabbed and put on his shirt and jeans, Dean winked.

“Is there anything I can do?” you said, smiling slightly at him.

“There is, indeed. Just have your breakfast, remember to take your medicine, and get more sleep. In order for us to have the dinner that we discussed outside tonight, you must regain your strength, okay? So that's the best you can do at the moment.” Dean's tone was quite serious. He was ready to leave. He didn't stay a little longer so you could have breakfast together, which made you a bit upset. But you were satisfied with what you had. Everything that had happened since yesterday night was beyond comprehension, and it was already too much.

You nodded and watched him adjust his clothes again before you got out of bed. “Okay,” you said. You needed a second shower.

You both gazed at each other anxiously, unsure of what to do. Awkwardness suffused the atmosphere. You didn't know what to say to break off the silence since you weren't sure what you two were exactly. Dean just had a similar expression to yours when he glanced at you. “Say hi to Sam from me,” you finally said, but you cringed at your own words.

Dean gave you a strange look as you waited anxiously after he got his phone and put everything else in his pockets and then examined his clothes. “Alright,” he muttered back.

Disturbed by his own strange actions, Dean gathered himself and confidently walked up to you, kissing you on the lips. From the way your lips became crimson and warm, he realized how much he really liked kissing you. The kiss was enhanced by your nervousness, and the way you react to him with the same fervor was adorable. Dean hoped his actions spoke louder than words, although he didn't put it into words. He thought you wouldn't be into the friends with benefits thing, which he wasn't into either, obviously, not with you.

When Dean withdrew after the firm kiss that had warmed your heart, you glanced at his bandaged hand again to make sure he was okay. As you carefully examined his hand and gave it a mild massage, he stated, "You're not going to work today, right?"

“No way.”

“Good.” Dean said, “Just have some rest,” taking your hands in his. “I'll call you when I'm done.”

“Okay. Tell Sam to take care of his wounds. He must also get plenty of rest in order to recover rapidly.”

Dean added hastily, “Don't worry about that,” and then he was gone.

You exhaled deeply as soon as he left your house, and your palm paused on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. You were astonishingly well, as if you weren't even sick, in contrast to yesterday. You felt as though a lot of energy had been poured into your soul, and you smiled broadly to yourself. You considered every aspect of your time with Dean as you prepared a delicious breakfast for yourself to further savor the experience. You reminisced on how he touched, kissed, hugged, and cared for you. No one could have touched you the way he had.

Remembering how he wanted to go farther with you and how you couldn't stop moving when cutting a tomato, you giggled this time. Though you felt awful about it yesterday since it made you sick and you thought it wrecked everything, you were happy with your declaration of love. You could speak those three magical words into his ear forever.

As you considered what to wear, you thought about what dinner you would be having this evening. Since you were either at work or chasing ghosts or monsters with him, you were never able to wear the outfits you bought when you fell in love with him months ago. It appeared like you were going to spend those hours contemplating what to wear and other things until Dean gave you a call.

When Dean called and said he would be there in fifteen minutes, you were so preoccupied with what to wear and worried that it would be too much to put on a dress that you took your head between your hands, powerless to act, helpless. You had plenty of time to think things through, yet you were unable to effectively manage the time you had. Choosing the most modest of them, you brushed your hair aggressively and quickly. You wish you were as fast as you were at the hospital.

Dean was patiently waiting for you while leaning back against his car and placing his hands on his chest. Since he had left your house, he had been thinking about you, which was causing him a little stress at the moment. He wanted to proceed with things as you deserved. Sam, you, and him spent a lot of time together, but this time, going out with you was different. That meant something, even though you didn't say as much to each other. It was your first date.

Dean shifted into a more relaxed stance, clearing his throat and placing his hands in his pockets. He stopped resting back against his car and smiled at your delighted figure as soon as you opened the door. You appeared little beneath your oversized jacket as you drew near.

You walked up to him and said, “Sorry, Dean,” in an apologetic manner. You attempted to be calm so that you wouldn't be distracted by his attractive, lengthy form. “Have you been waiting for long?” He looked awfully good.

As soon as Dean responded, “No, I just...” Your legs were already trembling a little, so you hurriedly opened the door yourself without waiting for him to do it for you or at least give you a hug. Confusion seized Dean's lips as he carefully closed the door. Your excitement and hasty movements made him smile and shake his head.

In order to avoid becoming chilly and ruining your entire week, you were clinging to your large brown vintage jacket. “How is your hand feeling now?” you asked in a tone of concern as soon as Dean put his bandaged hand on the steering wheel. You saw that the bandage had previously been renewed.

Dean chuckled and stretched his fingers to indicate that he was okay. “Yeah, it is,” he responded. “Have you rested enough?”

“Yes, I've got better. I suppose it was all due to my extreme tiredness.” You looked at his flawless side profile and murmured again, “Thank you, Dean. For taking care of me, for making me feel better.”

Dean winked at you and replied, “Don't mention it,” pleased that you told him he did well. “My pleasure.”

In contrast to what you expected, Dean sat down next to you rather than across from you when you first got to the location where you, Ruby, Sam, and Dean occasionally hung out. Since it was already heated inside, you hurriedly removed your jacket. Your big brown jacket and long dark green dress must have made you appear a bit silly.

In order to avoid giving himself a hard time, Dean moved his eyes away after he realized they were locked onto your deep, delicious cleavage. His wicked eyes were literally twitching due to your skin, and his brain was sending messages all the way between his legs. His nose was flooded with your delicate scent as soon as you removed your jacket. Your skin and the way you looked in general were flawless. Dean moved slightly in the seat and pressed his hand on the head of your seat. When Dean stated, “It's pretty cold outside nowadays; you must be very careful,” you were reminded of your sickness.

You murmured, “It's actually quite hot inside.” No matter what Dean thought, you probably wouldn't take off your jacket if it got even a little cold since you've never cherished cold weather.

"Oh, yeah?” Dean said with a chuckle, wetting his lips and arching his eyebrows. He became aware that he had never previously seen you wearing a dress like this. Dean's heart melted as you smiled tenderly at him, and he couldn't resist gently touching your arms.

You shuddered a little at Dean's abrupt, gentle touch on your arm and teased him, “Plus, you would be there to take care of me, right?” It should be illegal since he looked so handsome.

Dean said, delighted by your playful behavior, “Seems like someone got used to being taken care of already.”

Your heart began to behave normally around him as the tension between you lessened, even if you were still a little anxious. You told Dean about your college days and the times you witnessed the most ridiculous and absurd patients you saw in the hospital while you were eating dinner in peace. Dean also talked about the old, bittersweet days with Sam, which melted your heart. You told him everything good about him when he got a little critical of himself.

Fortunately, Dean showed consideration by not inquiring about your confession, your feelings for him, or the precise beginning of your feelings. You would feel quite uneasy and less confident because of it. The date was really different, yet it was also just like every other lovely time with him. There were situations when you both couldn't stop touching one another while chatting.

It was difficult to resist touching him. You were already accustomed to that as well. Dean's kind and passionate strokes had already become addictive to your body. It went really well, even though you thought it may have gone a little worse because of the anxiety you had been feeling. At the beginning, you were somewhat too shy, but Dean helped you start acting more like yourself.

You didn't even notice how quickly the time went by since you were eating a meal side by side and touching each other while you chatted and revealed more intimate details about lives. Dean's smile was contagious, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw how joyful and natural he was. His demeanor also inspired you to speak even more. It was already midnight.

The physical distance between you as he drove was a bit agonizing, as you had become used to spending hours sitting by his side. You wanted to be close to each other to forget about the times you were apart, and you were basically free to touch each other as you wanted. When Dean called your name, you leaped. Dean halted the car, but you were unaware that you had arrived.

“That was a very enjoyable night,” you said timidly, looking out and unsure of what to say. “Thanks for the dinner.”

You waited for his answer while licking your lips. You smiled sincerely at him and idly fiddled with the hanger of your shoulder bag. Dean's mouth opened, but he seemed to be looking at you as if he were pondering what exactly to say at this moment. He gave you the kind of glance that made him look as if he wanted to pause time and enjoy this sincere moment.

“My pleasure. I had a great time,” he added, grinning at you. Abruptly, “Are you working tomorrow?” he said.

“No,” you shook your head in response. “I'll be off from work for at least three more days. I informed them that I was still feeling bad and somewhat worn out.”

Dean exhaled a sigh of relief. He was already planning new activities to do while he was with you. Most significantly, you needed some downtime after working nonstop due to him. He wanted to take responsibility and put things right. Dean wanted to make you happy, sort things out, and start something fresh with you, not to relieve himself.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly to him while you kept chewing your inner cheeks. It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to want to bring him inside. However, things had changed, and you were unsure of how to behave or what to say. He had you at his mercy.

As you were about to bid farewell before heading away, Dean's fingers reached your neck, and his lips captured yours. In response to his gentle kisses, you eagerly parted your lips and let him in. Your hand dropped to his chest as you let your bag drop to your feet, only feeling his heartbeat against your palm.

His kisses were gentle and soft at first, but you were unable to suppress your need and want for him, so they became urgent and mirrored your hunger. You were reluctant about leaving. You wished he would stay. You whimpered into his lips as your hand moved from his chest to his thick neck. Dean's gentle kisses quickly became intense. He was now giving you fierce kisses in return for your urgent ones. You were kissing each other like you've never kissed before.

His low growl made your heart race as you moaned into his mouth as he bit and sucked your lips. With a swift movement, Dean's injured hand grabbed your ass and moved your body into his seat, on his lap. Watching you between his legs caused him to groan. Dean was even harder since he was aware of his impact on you.

As Dean touched your legs through your long dress, you pulled back to catch your breath. You could already feel your pussy contracting with anticipation. Your entire body yearned for him. You looked him in the eye when you licked your swollen lips while placing your hands on either side of his face. Dean smiled at you to gauge your response, and it was warm and delightful. Through his jeans, you could feel his dick throbbing beneath you.

He had been encouraged to continue by the passion and affection he saw in your eyes, and as his hands began lifting your dress, you shivered with impatience. He moved steadily and slowly. After all, you had plenty of time to enjoy each other.

You were seated on his lap, rubbing your covered pussy against his cock as soon as he raised up your dress. Your heart was pounding wildly. You already knew you were ruined there already. “Dean,” you whimpered desperately. You hoped he wouldn't leave you like this.

He grinned victoriously at how much you desired him and how dependent you were on him. You stared at him and said his name with love and affection, and it wasn't simply a simple sexual yearning. Dean's heart pulsed blissfully into his chest. He longed to be loved and wanted by you. He intended to provide for all of your needs.

“What do you want me to do?” While his wounded had been waiting on your hip, Dean asked on your lips. Then he softly stroked one of your tits and squeezed it firmly.

While he waited for an answer, Dean gasped in surprise and confusion as you bit your lip and abruptly rubbed yourself on his hard cock. Dean's lips twisted into a little, sly smile. His injured hand remained on your underwear, helping you to move on him while the other hand kept pressing and kneading your breast through your clothes.

Dean's gaze was fixed on your cleavage as you kept rubbing yourself on his cock slowly so that neither of you would finish too soon and you could savor the moment. You pressed closer to his hands and watched the driven expression in his eyes. As his hand moved into your cleavage exposed your breast, squeezing your stiffened nipple, Dean checked your face to make sure you were completely well. You moaned a little louder this time because of the way he rubbed his thumb on your breast.

In order to establish a rhythm with you, Dean lifted his hip a little higher and started to suck your breast into his lips extremely aggressively once his mouth approached your nipple. “Ah, Dean!” you moaned, pressing yourself into his lips and nailing his shoulders.

Dean slowed his passionate kisses and then stopped, laying his head on your chest and panting heavily, just as you were ready to lose yourself on him. You whimpered as you felt him pull out his thick fingers. You had not finished yet. Was he unaware? He raised his head to meet your startled look as he planted a very gentle kiss on your bare chest. He knew you would do anything for him at this moment, didn't he?

He was completely hard, hurting down below, watching you lose yourself on his lap while wearing this outfit. Dean wanted you to ride him till he released his ropes inside you right now in Baby. Badly.

However, he needed to know that pleasure and desire weren't the backbone of what you were doing. He needed to express his affection and respect for you, even though it was obvious that you were desperate for any physical contact, and it was driving him insane. He needed you to see how gentle and caring he was toward you. He desired to offer you all that you had given him.

Dean replied, “Not now, sweetheart,” and put his hands behind your back, basically offering you a hug as you were lying on top of him, half-naked and in need. Dean kissed you on the shoulders and adjusted your dress.

You said, unhappy that you had been pushing this off since the morning, “Why not?” You felt okay with it. “Because of your hand?”

When Dean saw that you were being serious, he couldn't stop laughing. As though his cock would stop because his hand was simply injured a little. “Not because of my hand obviously,” Dean remarked. “Like I said, we don't have to rush things, alright?”

“But we've already done it.” You moaned, not pleased with his response, “Twice.” You didn't want to come out as so desperate, but you were no longer bashful.

“Someone is impatient, huh?” With a groan, Dean's hands traveled along your back.

Dean kissed your forehead firmly and then gently put you back in your seat, placing his hand beneath your chin. “All I want to do is make everything perfect because you deserve it. I don't want you to believe that we are only having sex out of passion. That is never the case.”

You replied swiftly, “It already is flawless,” and his comments made your heart sink. He was being so honest about your relationship for the first time, and you forgot about everything else when he acknowledged how much he cared for you. “I would never think otherwise.”

Looking at his hand, you timidly said, “But if you want, you can come inside," before the stillness deepened. “I can check out your bandages.”

Dean teased, “Thought you wouldn't be working for some time.” Before you grabbed your bag and opened the door, you looked at his hand and arched an eyebrow.

With the same humorous tone, you added, “Just because I pity you right now, Mr. Winchester,” before grinning broadly and closing the door on his face while you waited for him to follow you.

Fortunately, Dean used his keys to open the door when you noticed you had left yours inside. He continued making fun of how thrilled you must have been about your little date. You were overjoyed that you kept assuring him it wasn't. Dean wasn't convinced.

You swiftly got what you needed from the restroom as Dean grunted and sat down on the coach. As soon as you sat down next to him and got the fresh bandages ready, you saw that Dean was looking at you with such a lovely expression that you instantly smiled back. Right now, you must have been thinking the same thing. You remembered the night when he took you in this coach without even knowing how much you loved him.

Even though it was completely dark and you couldn't see each other at the time, you knew you were seeing each other in every manner now. It was spiritually as well as physically. Dean was unaware of your love for him at the time, but he now acknowledged your true feelings for him. Your want to be with him was obvious to him. Before you began to remove his bandages, you placed his hand in his palm and gave it a very gentle kiss that caused his eyes to widen in wonder. That moment filled your heart with so much love and powerful sensations. You hoped you could make him realize how much you valued that moment and how much you admired him.

Dean offered you the same caring kiss while placing his hand under your chin, understanding what you were thinking. It was just lovely; it had nothing sexual about it. Dean cracked a smile and said, “Deja vu, huh?” as he drew back.

“It's like yesterday. Time flies,” you whispered as you carefully cared for him, taking care not to hurt him.

Dean remarked regretfully, “I wish I knew,” which caused you to pause. “I would make it perfect, you know, rather than being quick and doing it on a coach in darkness.”

His words instantly made you blush. “It's not important, I told you already,” not pleased that he was still feeling this way. “I'm just glad it was you, Dean.”

“Well, I'm glad about that too.” Seeing that you were still obstinate about it, Dean also sighed.

When you are done, you exhale deeply and place everything on the table after gently looking to his wounded hand. Without wasting any time, Dean embraced you and made you giggle with a playful animal growl he made. He placed a cushion beneath his head and made your body lie on him, as if reenacting the scenario, and now he was lying on the coach. You shifted on Dean a little as he gave you a strong hug that seemed like he would never let you go.

He was surprised by the way you gazed at him. Dean closed his eyes as though in anguish and melted into your touch just as you softly placed one of your palms on his cheek. After seeing his face, you placed your head on his chest in joy, delighted by the way strongly his hands wrapped around you. Dean had no idea when you had begun to affect him in this way. Your touch made him feel so hungry and desperate that he was on the verge of letting out a defeated sigh and asking for more.

As you leaned on his body on your coach, you both glanced at one another without exchanging words. Your eyes brightened as Dean took your hand in his and gently caressed your fingers.

Feeling a little talkative, you asked, “Do you really want to sleep like this?”

“Why not?” Dean grinned right away, reminding you of that night to make you feel bashful. “It's not the first time after all.”

Even though your cheeks turned hot, you couldn't help but smile and ask playfully, “What if the electricity cuts out again? You know, we didn't change our clothes. It might be a little uncomfortable to sleep like this.”

Dean's eyes narrowed at your bold suggestion, and he licked his lips. “Well, if it does cut off, sweetheart, we won't need our clothes at all,” he said in a whisper in your ear while placing his finger beneath your chin. “Your attractive boyfriend will provide for all of your needs.”

By the time he finished his sentence, Dean had planted a kiss on your lips, and you were grinning uncontrollably into the gentle kiss while your heart was beating madly with joy. The scene was so exquisite that you nearly started crying. After Dean treated your wound, you were feeling much the same as when you slept with him in the same coach back in the day. Even though he had touched you, cured you, and taken care of your hand, something severely wounded and damaged your spirit that night without you even recognizing it. But now you felt entirely healed. Everything about Dean—his words, his kisses, his touch—healed you in the most exceptional way.

CLICK HERE FOR SPECIAL PART

THE END.

Author's Note: Hi there! Here we are. WASTE is the first Supernatural fiction I ever wrote and the first fic I completed. Fun fact: Although I am aware of all the spoilers, I have only seen the first six or seven episodes of Supernatural. I apologize if I wrote characters 'out of character' . As an asexual, writing romantic material was a little challenging, but please share your thoughts with me. Your feedback inspired me to write a +55K word count series. I WILL UPLOAD TWO OR THREE SPECIAL CHAPTERS! I'm not going to let this go just yet. Those chapters will be SMUTTY. Since this is my first complete series, please let me know what you think. I love you all!

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[santaasi]

SHADOWS

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!fem!reader

summary: when emotions take over and shadows are swallowed up, all you need is to find a person who will become your light (based on shadows by sabrina carpenter)

warnings: angst, a little bit of fluff, use of y/n, english is not my first language

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the action takes place after the finale of the first season of obx

We all got nightmares in our dreams

We look for someone to believe in us

And show us the way

And make it okay

The world can be dangerous

EVERYONE IN KILDARE KNEW WHO JJ MAYBANK WAS. A flighty, self-confident blonde, a girls man, the life of all parties, and the honored prince of pogues. You could always buy the best weed from him at the best price, and repair the car as soon as possible. He appears in the police station more often than at home, and all parents pray only that their child does not fall under his charm. JJ Maybank was a walking problem, but despite that he had a heart of gold.

As a child, his mother told him that life consists of white and black stripes, like a zebra. But for some reason, JJ's own life was like a big and long black tunnel, in which fireflies sometimes appeared, illuminating his life. John B, Kiara and Pope were the only bright spots in his life, the most important people who, no matter what, stayed by his side.

But it was only for John B, that JJ was ready to do anything, because their bond had always been stronger than just friendship. They were brothers who had been going through all the problems together since childhood. John B. was by JJ's side when his mother left the family when he was seven. John B. was there when JJ's drunk father beat him almost to death when he returned home one night. John B. was there to treat his wounds, and allocated a separate room for him in the chateau so that JJ would not have to return home. John B. was the one who always believed in JJ, who knew that despite all the words of the people around Maybank, he would not become like his father.

That's why the loss of John B in the storm two weeks ago was another blow to JJ's gut from a life that proved to him over and over again that JJ Maybank was not made for happiness.

There's something so rare in your veins

Not a single thing I would change

And oh, if you only knew how I see you

Would you come alive again, alive again?

But despite how much JJ Maybank treasured his friendship with John B., he couldn't do anything about his feelings for his friend's younger sister, who, like a little sun, always lit his way in this pitch darkness of his life.

Y/N Routledge has always been her brother's most precious treasure. After their father disappeared, John B. devoted himself to his sister, protecting her from everything, promising that he would always be by her side. And now, seven months after Big John disappeared, John B. wasn't with her either. She was left all alone in this big world, which seemed ready to swallow her completely.

The first week after John B. went missing, JJ heard Y/N crying quietly at night, suppressing her screams, burying her face in the pillow. He could hear the sound of her bare feet on the wooden floor and the slam of the screen door when she woke up at the middle of the night from nightmares and went out on the porch to get some fresh air. Every night, Maybank cursed the thin walls of the chateau and John B. for causing her so much pain by leaving. But no matter how much JJ wanted to help her, he was too deeply drawn into the swamp of his own feelings, from which he could not get out in any way.

Y/N wasn't blind to what was going on with her brother's best friend either. She knew how much shit JJ had to go through in his entire life, how many loved ones he had to lose, and she understood that losing John B was another blow for him. She felt how he blamed himself for what had happened, heard how he wakes up at nights from nightmares, asking John B. and Sarah not to go into the storm, saw how only a pitiful shadow remained of the former JJ and it broke her heart.

The girl always admired the strength of JJ's spirit, despite all the shit that happened in his life, he stayed afloat. He raised his head and walked confidently and straight on. He supported his friends, was ready to do anything for them, even go to prison for a case that he did not commit, as long as his friends, his only family remained unharmed.

And JJ Maybank was always there for her. When her heart was broken for the first time, he was there, holding her tightly to his chest, whispering soothing words in her ear. When she was fighting with John B., JJ was always on her side, listening to her outrage. JJ Maybank went to parties with her, dancing with her until the sunrise, sat with her on rainy evenings at the chateau, watching romcoms that he hated, brought her her favorite sweets when she was sick, taught her surfing and listened to all the gossip from her work during their mini spa days at the chateau with such interest, as if Y/N told him about the beginning of the universe. JJ Maybank was always there for the younger Rotledge and it was just impossible for her not to fall in love with him.

She loved her brother's best friend even when he was a complete mess. When he cried on her shoulder after another fight with Luke. When he got drunk and she had to carry him to the chateau. When he was angry at her for getting into all these dangerous things with all the other pogues.

Y/N Routledge loved JJ Maybank in every shape and condition. And she would never change even the slightest detail about him, because for her, JJ Maybank was perfect for who he is.

Y/N was also hurt by the loss of her brother, and she, like no one else, could understand all of JJ's pain, but unlike him, she had the strength to live and move on. She didn't blame herself for what had happened, realizing that John B. had always been too stubborn to listen to anyone, but JJ… He was devouring himself from the inside out. He dug out the grave himself and buried himself with his head. The darkness that had been accumulating in him for so long was finally winning. And Y/N was scared. She didn't want to lose him either. She couldn't lose him.

I need you to understand

Y/N stood in front of the door to JJ’s room, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, doubting the correctness of her actions. They haven't spoken since the day John B disappeared, although they've been living under the same roof all this time, but they were functioning on their own.

After hearing another sob from behind the door, the girl finally opened it, going inside.

It was very dark and cold here, but after getting used to the darkness for a couple of seconds, Y/N began to distinguish silhouettes.

The room was a complete mess: all the clothes from the wardrobe were spread out on the floor, along with books, notebook sheets, rumpled bed linen and glass fragments that glittered in the moonlight. The lamp fell from the bedside table and was lying in the corner.

JJ was sitting at the foot of the bed, his head buried between his knees, and his hands were clutching the strands of his blonde hair in fists. His body was trembling. Even without seeing his face, Y/N could tell with certainty that JJ was trying his best to cope with the hysteria that was punishing him.

"Hey, J, are you okay?" the girl asked softly, quietly approaching the guy and kneeling next to him.

Startled, JJ mmediately raised his head, staring at the girl in shock, as if he had seen a ghost. There were wet marks on his cheeks, and his eyes were swollen and red from crying. More than anything, Y/N wanted to hold him close and comfort him, to convince him that everything would be fine.

"Angel?" JJ asked hoarsely, not believing his eyes. The sound of her soft and gentle voice sent a wave of goosebumps through his body. Her voice. It had been so long since he had heard her voice. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry... I-I didn't mean to... I-" JJ stumbled through his words, frowning and averting his gaze from the girl.

"Hey, hey, hey... calm down, J," the girl whispered softly, covering his palm with her hand. "I understand, okay? Everything is fine," the girl said soothingly, trying to smile.

I don't mind your shadows

'Cause they disappear in the light

JJ's gaze ran over her face, going over every detail of her appearance that he has memorized over all these years by heart. She looked the same as always, but her gaze seemed to have lost the spark that made his heart beat faster every time. But now all he could see there was emptiness and sadness, which even her slight smile couldn't hide.

All these two weeks, living under the same roof with her, JJ avoided her gaze, afraid to see this look. The look of loss. The loss of a brother that JJ felt responsible for. The lucky charm for all problems in the world is JJ Maybank. And JJ hated himself for it.

He caused her so much pain, coming to her to heal his wounds after fights with his father or kooks, or when he brought girls to the chateau, knowing full well about her feelings for him... Because he's afraid to admit to her that he's experiencing the same thing. JJ Maybank destroyed not only her life, but also the lives of all the people around him. And he thinks that it would be better for everyone if he just didn't exist.

Y/N noticed how his jaw clenched, and his gaze fixed on the wall became colder and felt a wave of goosebumps pass through her body when he abruptly got up from the floor early. Routledge Jr. could always understand her brother's best friend even without words. This situation was no exception. She understood that JJ's inner demons were devouring him from the inside out.

"Don't do this, Jay. Don't do this to yourself," Y/N whispered softly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to burst, but her voice trembled treacherously.

"I'm the problem, angel," JJ said without turning to the girl still sitting on the floor. "I am the main cause of your troubles! Wherever I go, I only make things worse! I... didn't save John B.... I'm hurting you... I..."

"Don't do this to me, Jay!" the girl repeated more forcefully, jumping to her feet, wiping away tears.

"I don't care about your shadows! I'm not afraid of them!" Y/N said sobbing, clutching his hand. "I'm here! I'm always there for you! I'll be your light if you need me. But don't leave me… I-I love you."

And listen to me, it's okay to be afraid

Just walk like you're never alone

"I didn't stop your brother, Y/N," the guy continued to insist, whispering, feeling tears accumulate in his eyes again. "He’s not here! And it’s my fucking fault!"

Y/N's hands cupped his cheeks, pressing his forehead to hers, closing her eyes and trying to calm her breath. JJ's hands rested on her waist, pressing her against his body, wanting to feel such a missing and dear warmth to his heart. JJ could feel her thumbs wiping away the tears rolling down his cheek.

"Listen to me, J. It's not your fault," Dana whispered softly.

"It's not your fault that John B is a stubborn bastard who always does everything the way he wants," the girl chuckled softly, feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks too. She missed her brother like crazy, and she would do anything to have him here with her right now. But here and now, there was no John B., it was just her and JJ, who was damn bad at handling his emotions. So, Maybank and his mental state were more important to her than grief for her brother right now.

"You know you wouldn't have stopped him, so stop blaming yourself," Y/N sniffed, opening her eyes to meet his blue gaze. "It's not your fault."

The guy nodded slowly, holding her closer to him, burying his nose in her neck, inhaling soft vanilla scent of her hair. Y/N felt his body shaking in her arms, as he desperately clung to her, trying not to let himself completely collapse.

"I'm so scared that they won't come back, angel," the guy whispered softly into her neck. "I'm so scared that he won’t come back…"

"Me too, but it's okay," the girl whispered with a lump in her throat, running a soothing hand through his hair. "Everything will be okay… He will return… It’s- It‘s John B, he always returns"

There was silence in the room, broken only by their ragged breathing and the patter of raindrops on the window. JJ lifted his head, gently brushing away the strands of hair stuck to Y/N's cheeks, giving her a soft smile. JJ kissed her gently on the forehead before pulling her to his chest, hugging her tightly. His chin rested on top of her head.

"But we'll get through this together, as we always have. Like we've done it hundreds of times," Y/N said in a barely audible voice, forcing not only JJ, but also herself to believe that someday, everything will come to its senses again.

That someday John B and Sarah will come back and everything will be as before. That maybe someday her father will be found too and she will have a family again. That the black shadows that consumed JJ's life would be replaced by the sun's rays that would illuminate his path. That someday their life will really become like a zebra, and not like a black tunnel from which there is no way out.

But for now, all they could do was hold on to each other tightly, not letting themselves drown in the shadows of grief and loss.

And Y/N Routledge knew for sure that with JJ Maybank by her side, she could survive anything.

And all these voices in our head

Well, they keep screaming louder and louder

But they won't pull us under

thankx for reading <з

this is my first work on Tumblr, so I hope you enjoyed it. feedback always appreciated :з

– your santi ✨

masterlist

[ms-demeanor]

Not to bombard you with job-type questions on Tumblr, but I just had a quick question I was hoping you could shine some amazing expertise on. My laptop (a Dell G5 I got in '19) recently started telling me the SSD is "at the end of its usable life".

How quickly do I need to be worried about looking into replacement drives/computers? Is there somewhere I can look to know how close I might actually be to needing one? I'm just not sure if this is the kind of thing they tell you wayyyy before you actually need one or not to scare you into spending $$ or actually good advice from them. But if it's really likely a risk, I'm willing to start shopping. I just don't want to jump the gun if I've got some time. Thanks in advance for any advice you'd be willing to share! =D

hmmmm okay so the deal is that when an SSD fails it fails in such a way that it's totally unrecoverable so I'd say right now today as soon as possible, take a backup, and once you've gotten your backup go ahead and look into getting a replacement drive.

Cloning a drive is easy, the question is whether you feel capable of getting the cloned drive into your computer. (you can look up the model on ifixit or youtube to see the step by step process of breaking down your computer and replacing parts). If you do feel comfortable replacing the drive, I'd say spend the money on the drive and swap it out yourself (cost: about $60 and maybe a headache). If you don't feel comfortable with that, I'd say to see if you can find a local repair shop and ask them to do it for you (cost: probably around like $200.)

If you DO NOT feel comfortable replacing the drive and the computer initially cost less than double the price of an estimated repair, you may want to consider replacing the computer.

Your computer is five years old, which is about the age that we'd generally consider replacing drives in a desktop or laptop at work because HDDs and SSDs *do* have limited lifespans, but just because it has a limited lifespan doesn't *necessarily* mean the drive is going to fail.

If you're the kind of person who can go a few days without your computer and who makes reliable backups and you don't have any software that's directly tied to the drive on that device that you wouldn't be able to get back, you can probably safely wait and not worry all that much - there's likely some life left in the drive and you don't need to run to the repair shop right away.

If you can't go a few days without your computer, or are at risk of permanently losing expensive software, or think you might forget to make backups and lose some important work, maybe consider replacing sooner than later.

[sopebubbles]

Nine

Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: encounters with people from your past challenge your future with the pack.

Warnings: people generally being assholes, mentions of blood, car accident

WC: 8.2k

A/N: when i came home and said i wanted to write, beastie said "make it hurt" so lets blame this on her.

It's been three weeks since the pack left for the new house, leaving Yoongi and Jimin behind to fix some minor repairs on the old house and wait for you. Just this morning, Yoongi had finished patching up a hole in the drywall where Namjoon had once tripped and pushed his hand through just with his own strength. But there was still no sight or scent of you.

Yoongi had just finished making a sandwich when the front door opened and Jin walked in. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Yoongi grumbled before biting into his lunch.

"I came to see you," Jin replied, almost convincingly casual.

"Why?" The younger man asked with a full mouth.

Jin sighed, he genuinely wanted to be pleasant. This wasn't the first time he had come to the house and wanted to patch things up with Yoongi, but the man wasn't making it easy with his cold behavior. Still, Jin decided it would be best to be upfront so he could have a real conversation with him. "We got an offer on the house this morning."

Yoongi paused mid bite before he continued and chewed without responding.

"I wanted to run it by you," Jin continued.

Yoongi snorted. "What does it have to do with me? It's your house, yours and Hoseok's. The one your parents bought you. I've never been anything but a guest here."

"That's not true, Yoongi. You know it's not. You're an important part of our lives. I know I was selfish, but please give me a chance to show you how sorry I am and how much I love you," Jin begged. "I'll do anything."

Yoongi turned his head away, unable to look Jin in the eyes. "The only thing I want right now isn't something you can give me," he admitted. He wished that he could think of anything other than you, but even patching things up with Jin wasn't something that he could focus on for very long.

"You still haven't seen her?" Jin asked softly. Yoongi shook his head.

"Looks like she really doesn't need me to be her alpha. Hoseok was right."

Jin took a step closer, wishing he could get close enough to comfort his packmate. He'd still think of Yoongi that way no matter what. "I'm certain Hobi didn't mean that. And she doesn't seem to know what she needs, to be honest. She'd be incredibly lucky to have you as an alpha, Yoongi." 

He couldn't respond, too choked up on his own emotions. He knew that Jin was right, because he knew he'd be the best alpha possible to you, but right now he was just a mess. 

"One of the ways my mom has used to get inside my head is telling me that you want to take the pack alpha position from me," Jin admitted. 

Yoongi looked at him with surprised eyes and lifted brows. "When have I ever made you think I wanted to do that?"

Jin shrugged. "You kinda have pack alpha energy. Even my mom noticed it the few times she met you. And ever since we met you've always argued with me. Honestly, since you came to us I've always been a little insecure about it."

Yoongi laughed quietly. "To be completely honest, when I first met you guys I thought maybe I could take the leader position from you. But as soon as I got to know you, I didn't feel like I needed to."

"What changed your mind?"

"The way that you treated Tae after the incident. You were so gentle and caring with him. You never made him feel bad for what happened or shamed him. You just took care of him. And then I knew you would take care of all of us, so that's when I remember falling for you."

Jin frowned. "I'm sorry I didn't live up to that version of myself."

"You can probably do it again," Yoongi shrugged.

"I promise, I'm really trying." A moment of silence passed between them but the air felt a little lighter. "Will you and Jimin come home, please? It won't be right for any of us until you guys are there. We all miss you both."

Yoongi nodded sadly, "I guess I can't wait for her forever."

"Hobi has been putting together a room for her," Jin told him, but it only seemed to make Yoongi's heart stink further. "You will find her, Yoon."

"How?" Yoongi breathed.

"I don't know. There's this old thing that people used to talk about, called fated mates. No one really believes in them anymore. But the idea is, some people are meant to come into your life, and I don't think you would feel like this for no reason."

If you're wondering why you haven't gone to Yoongi yet, it's because things were actually going quite well for you, at least by comparison. One company on Jimin's list stood out to you immediately. The cleaning service was owned by an omega named Ana, and you learned that she was particularly passionate about helping other omegas who escaped abusive situations like she had. She knew working gave you the ability to be independent, but that it wasn't easy to keep up. She took one look at you and knew you were exactly the kind of girl who needed her help. Jimin's name only sealed the deal, though she didn't bother to call him up. When she said someone was needed to clean at the public library, you jumped at the chance to work somewhere you already knew. 

It had been three weeks now, and everything was going well, by your standards. You were still staying at the shelter, but you'd already gotten your first paycheck and in a month or two you might be able to get yourself out of there. For the first time in several months, you felt like things might be okay.

It was almost the end of your shift when you saw them. They were standing in the aisle you were about to turn down to dust, but you pulled back as soon as their scents hit you and hid yourself behind the end of the row of shelves. Sure, those scents could belong to anyone. Everyone's scent was unique, but lots of people shared general scents. You were hardly the only apple scented omega in the world. But the combination of chestnut and pine was too familiar. It had layered the pack's house and mingled in a uniquely homey way. You were certain that it was Seokjin and one of his other alphas. You'd never gotten his name. You'd never even spoken to him or looked at him directly. For good reason, too. He was absolutely massive, standing at least a foot over you. One look at his hands and you knew that he could kill you if you upset him. Seokjin was tall and broad as well, and Taehyung was not much smaller at all, but for some reason it was the unnamed one that terrified you most. The two of them together were downright terrifying, and your brain did a good job of reminding you of that every time your inner voice started longing for Yoongi or Jimin or Hoseok.

You decided to turn back the way you came before they could smell you, too. You could hide in your custodian's closet for the next twenty minutes of your shift. It was Saturday and the library would be closed tomorrow. A little dust could wait until Monday morning.

You emerged from the closet at the end of your shift, having changed out of your cleaning uniform and into jeans and Yoongi's hoodie. It didn't smell like him anymore, but you were reminded of his scent every time you used the citrus scented cleaner for the floors. It was a mockery of his natural smell, but it brought him to mind nonetheless. Few scents have been imprinted into your brain as deeply as that one. There was a card in the front pocket of the hoodie, just a small rectangle with a name and contact information printed on it and Jimin's neat, careful numbers written on the back. The cardstock had lost its stiffness after the hours you've spent clutching it, the corners were tearing from all the worrying of your fingernails, like they were doing now.

Go catch them, she whispered in your head as you watched two tall, broad sets of shoulders walk through the doors of the library.

You know what Seokjin will do to you. 

You don't know. Yoongi wouldn't let him.

Round and round they went again, never giving you a moment's peace. 

Please call Jimin.

You walked toward the information desk where Maria sat at her computer, next to the phone.

"All done for today, Y/N?" Maria asked with a pleasant smile. You nodded.

"Can I use your phone to make a call? Mine was stolen. It's local."

"Yeah, of course. Just dial nine to call out," she said as she turned the telephone toward you.

This is a bad idea.

You picked up the receiver and pulled out the card from your pocket. You dialed nine, then five, and then you froze. A scent filled your nose, one that you hadn't smelled in many years. One you thought you'd never smell again. It was spearmint stronger than any gum or mouthwash. His scent was always so potent, you were amazed your sap parents couldn't smell it. How could they have thought he was one of them? You turned to look for him, but he saw you first.

"Y/N?"

"Eli?" You asked, astonished. You couldn't have expected to see him in this city. 

"What are you doing here?" He wondered, stepping close to you. For a moment you thought he might try to hug you, but you were never like that with your adopted brother. You hadn't seen him since you were thrown out of your parents house, and you always figured it was best that way. 

The years between his presentation and yours had been tense. You could smell him as soon as his scent started to develop. It was the first sign you had that you wouldn't turn out sap like they said you might—truthfully, your average sapiens don't understand the genetics of cross-breeding that well. And of course he was terrified of you giving away his secret, no matter how vehemently you vowed that you wouldn't. You only ever hoped you could be as lucky as him. To be a beta and to go undetected for as long as possible. But it didn't work out like that for you, and all these years you might have resented him a bit for that. 

"I work here," you confessed, looking around as people went about their business in the library. Maria looked to be paying you no mind. "I just finished. What brings you here?" 

"Just returning some books. Are you free?"

You finally placed the receiver back in its cradle and removed your hand. "Yeah, what did you have in mind?"

"Are you hungry?" Eli asked. You were and you weren't. On the one hand you hadn't eaten yet that day, but on the other, your stomach was twisted in its usual knots. You nodded anyway.

Eli took you to a diner close by and promised he was paying so you could order anything you wanted. You ordered a cheese burger to try to pack in as many calories as you could in one meal. 

"Do you still talk to them?" You asked quietly after you'd run out of small talk. Eli held your gaze for a moment before he answered.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "It's not like they were ever big talkers. But they know I'm here and about my job, my fiance."

"Fiance?"

"Yeah. We're planning to get married next year." You nodded thoughtfully. "She's sap, and she doesn't know about me," he admitted, unprovoked. You looked him deeply in the eyes before you spoke. You couldn't help feeling jealous of what that must be like, to be able to deny yourself so easily.

"How is that going?" 

"Pretty well. It's not a problem," he said, but it didn't seem to ring true on his face.

"What about you? You work at the library?"

"I clean there. I just started this month." You shifted uneasily in your chair, a little because you were uncomfortably full but also because he had been talking about himself most of the time and how he was turning the attention on you, and that never felt like a good thing.

"Oh, nice. Your pack lets you work?" 

His question caught you off guard because for one thing, you were surprised that he assumed you had a pack. For someone who was denying who they were to their most intimate partner, he sure did jump to the conclusion that you wouldn't be. But you didn't appreciate the fact that he thought you needed permission to work. For some reason you couldn't really understand, you said, "yeah."

"That's interesting. You don't meet a lot of omegas out there working in public. Seems like most alphas like to keep them locked up at home."

You wanted to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about. As far as you could tell, Eli has less experience with Lykos culture than you did. What did he know about alpha and omega dynamics? But you didn't bother. "Well, my alpha isn't like that."

Eli brushed off his hands as he finished his fries. "That's good. Let me take you home. I'd like to meet them."

You didn't know the address of the pack's house, but you remembered how to get there from the library, and you were able to direct him there without much trouble. 

"It's that blue one up there," you told him when he turned onto the right street.

"This one?" Eli asked with a raised eyebrow, seeing what you did at the same time: a for sale sign with a triumphant red 'SOLD' sign sitting atop it. You swallowed thickly and felt your eyes begin to burn.

See, all these weeks of torturing yourself with indecision, and they didn't want you anyway. You never listen to me.

You could feel Eli's eyes on you, waiting for an explanation, so you cleared your throat. "I don't actually live here. I stayed here for a little bit, with a pack, but I guess they've moved on."

"Your pack left you?" He asked incredulously.

You shook your head, "they aren't actually my pack. They just took care of me for a few days when I was sick. It was a while ago. I just didn't want to tell you where I'm really staying, so I lied."

"What were you gonna do if they were here and I asked to meet them?" Eli smirked and you shrugged.

"Hope they'd play along until you left."

"And then what?"

And then ask if I could stay.

Idiot.

"I don't know," you admitted. You had no idea what you were going to do if you saw them. You didn't know what you would have said if you'd called Jimin and he'd answered earlier.

"You still haven't learned to think ahead, have you, Y/N?" Eli sighs and puts the car back in drive. "So, where are you staying?" 

You sit up straighter in your seat and reach for the door. "It's fine. You can leave me here. I've wasted enough of your time tonight."

"Don't worry about it. Just tell me where to go."

You directed Eli downtown to the shelter, only for him to have the reaction you had feared. You moved quickly to get out of his car but his hand on your arm stopped you.

"Y/N, why are you staying here?" His voice was filled with shock.

"I'm just going through a little rough patch. I'll be back on my feet soon. I have a job. I just need time," you rushed out all your defenses.

"Do you need money?" 

"No! God, I don't want your money."

"Y/N, you can't stay here. I've heard awful things about this place."

"Well, it's better than the street, or some predator."

"You can do better than this."

"I'm trying, okay! You think I like this? I don't. But what's it to you anyway! We meet randomly after five years and you're suddenly an over protective big brother? Do you think my life has been easy?" You've started to shake and you knew you were getting hysterical, but you didn't need his opinion on things he would never understand.

"Y/N, I know things haven't been easy for you. Let me help," he offered softly.

"How can you possibly help me?" You sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, looking every bit his teenage sister.

Eli swallowed before he spoke. "Come stay at my place for a bit."

"At your place?" He nodded. "What about your fiance? Doesn't she hate Lykos?"

"I never said she hated them."

"Us."

"Us. She just had some bad experiences with some alphas when she was younger. She doesn't really like to be around our kind," he explained, as if that made it better.

"Doesn't it make you feel crazy to have to pretend all the time?"

Eli shrugged. "I'm used to it…with our parents. They still don't know about me. It's not that hard, really. You can pretend for a little bit. You can get heat suppressants or whatever."

You know he's right.

You leaned your head back against the headrest and closed your eyes.

I don't want to pretend anymore.

What's so great about being the real you?

I'm gonna call–

If you were going to call him you would have by now and besides, they literally gave you a sign. It was all a lie. Just go with Eli. 

You sighed. "I have some stuff inside. If I leave it, they'll throw it out."

"I'll wait," Eli said and let you get out of the car. 

Yoongi and Jimin arrived at the new house just as Hoseok was finishing dinner preparations. Taehyung had set the table for seven, and for the first time in weeks it felt complete. No one would hold it against Yoongi for needing space, or for doing what he needed to do in hopes of bringing you into their pack, but that didn't mean they hadn't missed him and Jimin like crazy.

And it wasn't as though they hadn't seen each other at all. Taehyung had driven Hoseok back to the old house on many occasions, to bring his boys food or to take their laundry, no matter how many times Yoongi insisted they could go to the laundromat. He couldn't bear the thought of it. Jungkook stopped by after work anytime he didn't have a night shift. Namjoon and Jin had come over a few evenings when Yoongi was working so that Jimin wouldn't feel lonely.

It was strange for Jimin to spend time alone. He'd spent most of his adolescence surrounded by others and then the last four years in a pack house where someone was always home. In fact, the point in his life when he was the most alone was right before he met Yoongi and the others, and moving in with them had been a huge relief. Jimin hadn't been exactly lonely during those weeks when it was just him and Yoongi, but the quiet was hard to get used to, and the noise that surrounded their return was welcomed and familiar.

No one was going to admit it, because they were too happy to be back together again, but the time apart hadn't been the worst thing in the world. It had given them space to work on bonds that they had not paid as much attention to as maybe they should have. Seokjin and Namjoon had gone on several dates, just the two of them, the pack leader letting his mate take him to every museum in town and casual trips to the library. Jin hadn't even realized how much he was neglecting the second alpha in his pack, nor how much he had truly missed quality time with him. As soon as the realization hit him, he made a heartfelt apology to Namjoon for focusing too much attention on Hoseok and their plans. Of course, Namjoon forgave him easily. He always would.

Namjoon couldn't really put it into words, but his alpha status had never sat quite right with him until he met Seokjin. Sure, he was large and strong and everything an alpha should be on the outside, but he'd never felt the stereotypical aggression or need for control that alphas were known for. This had always felt like a character flaw in himself until he met Jin, who simultaneously had shown him that being an alpha didn't mean he had to be an asshole, and who was also willing to take on the burden of control that Namjoon rejected. When he met Jin, he could just be himself, and for that he would always love him above all others.

Hoseok, too, had used his time wisely in getting more in touch with the feelings of his younger packmates. The fact that he hadn't realized how insecure Taehyung had been feeling and how often Jungkook had been sleeping outside of the nest ate at him constantly. Although he and Tae had been companions at home for years now, Hoseok made a concerted effort to spend more quality time with him, to ask him his opinions on every detail of the new house, not only so he would feel included and welcome or because of his artistic eye but because of the boxy grin Tae gave him every time gave him immeasurable happiness.

Jungkook got the lion's share of Hoseok's attention whenever he got home from work, whether it was 5 pm or 5 am. It always involved lots of touching and scent marking, although if Jungkook came home smelling like lavender and oranges, Hoseok spent considerable more focus on getting those smells onto his own body. If he had a hard time getting Jungkook to smile and laugh once he was in the nest, Hoseok would gently coax him into talking so he could comfort the beta. 

On the whole, everyone in the new house was feeling much better than they had a month or even months ago, except for the fact that two integral parts of their lives were missing. It didn't feel the same as it did before they met Yoongi and Jimin. They had been irreversibly changed. And those two hadn't quite seemed to benefit as much from the separation as the rest.

Jimin squealed and giggled as Jungkook lifted him off the ground and spun him around. "Put me down, Kookie!"

"Never," the other beta mumbled into his shoulder. "I missed you too much."

"I saw you two days ago," Jimin reminded him.

"That's two days too long."

Yoongi couldn't help smiling at the betas as they greeted each other. It warmed his heart to see how little changed between them as Jungkook began to scent mark Jimin until he smelled like something fresh out of the dryer.

"I'm glad you're back," Hoseok said as he cupped Yoongi's smiling cheek in his hand. His heart ached when he watched the man's smile diminish.

"Yeah, I missed you guys," Yoongi admitted, but somehow the omega could tell that longing for his pack wasn't the dominant feeling in his heart at that moment.

"Let's eat dinner, and then I'll show you around the rest of the house," Hoseok encouraged and Yoongi nodded, setting down his bag before going to the table.

"You made kimchi-jjigae?" Jimin asked before taking a seat.

"I wanted to do something special, so I made your favorite to welcome you home," hoseok shrugged.

Jimin walked over and put his arms around the omega in a tight hug. "I love you, hyung."

"I love you, too, Jiminie," he smiled into the man's soft hair. Yoongi watched with a smile of his own. Nothing was as nice as watching Jimin get doted on the way he deserved, and he felt a pang of guilt for having kept the man to himself for so long. Yoongi had heaped tons of love and attention on him during their time alone, but Jimin always deserved more. He was sure he'd feel the same way about you if– Yoongi cut off his own thoughts. He wasn't going to go there anymore. He needed to give up for the sake of his pack, and he knew it. It wouldn't be easy, but he had to. He couldn't let himself believe in anything as fickle as fate to bring you to him.

After they'd all eaten until they were stuffed, Hoseok led Yoongi upstairs by the hand. 

"That's the master bedroom," he pointed out as they passed it by. "This is the room we hope will be the nursery," he said walking by the middle room on the second floor. Yoongi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And this room is for your little pup."

Yoongi swallowed thickly as he walked into the room. The walls had been painted a serene shade of sea foam green and the mattress was fitted with cream colored bedding.

"I didn't think she was a pink kind of girl. Or at least I wasn't sure, so Taehyung suggested this color might be soothing for her. What do you think?"

 "You guys worked so hard on this." Yoongi ran his fingers down the gauzy cream curtains. "It's great, Hobi, but," Yoongi sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. "She's not coming."

Hoseok frowned and settled himself atop Yoongi's lap. The alpha wrapped his arms around his waist naturally to hold him in place as he had so many times. "She hasn't come yet. But that doesn't mean she won't. I know you're feeling hopeless, but you need to have a little faith."

Yoongi looked up at him with weary eyes. "How can you be so positive about it?"

"I might be a tad bit more objective about it than you are," Hoseok smiled as he leaned into him. 

"Every minute feels like an eternity," Yoongi whispered.

"I really think she might be your fated mate," Hoseok giggled.

"Do you actually believe in that stuff?"

The omega shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think I've ever met any, but as you know, I don't get out much. I only know stories. Do you have a better explanation for it?"

Yoongi thought quietly for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for the right words, but he thought maybe they didn't exist. "All I know is it feels wrong to know that she's out there…in the world…and I'm not there to protect her."

Hoseok gently knocked their heads together. "Sounds like fated mates to me." Yoongi rolled his eyes playfully. "Don't give up yet, Yoon. Jimin and Jungkook found her by chance, but that doesn't mean it wasn't meant to be. When the time comes, you'll be in the right place at the right time, too."

"I hate the feeling that I won't be there before something terrible happens."

Hoseok clicked his tongue at the man. "You're so paranoid. Lighten up. She's coming! And when she does, this room will be her home. Won't that be nice?"

Yoongi smiled, giving into Hobi's relentless optimism. "It will be perfect."

Eli drove you to a stylish looking apartment building on the other side of town. It was obvious the moment he took you inside the apartment that he hadn't used the time while you were gathering your things to warn his fiance that you were coming. A tall blonde came quickly toward the door wearing an expression you couldn't quite define but leaned towards angry.

"Babe, where were you? I just got home and you weren't here. What's going on?" She asked as her eyes fell on you and even you could feel yourself shrink under her sharp eyes.

Eli leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have called. But I ran into my sister. You remember, I told you about Y/N." 

"Not really," she admitted with a tight smile as your brother stepped aside and she got a good look at you. "I thought she ran away," she whispered.

"Yeah, ran away, not died," he whispered back. You weren't sure if they knew you could hear them or they didn't care but you felt smaller and smaller by the second. "She lives in the city now, and she needs a place to stay," he said loud enough for you to hear, although she clearly wished he wouldn't.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Eli?" She asked with the same tight smile, and it occurred to you that you didn't know her name. Had you forgotten it, or had he simply not mentioned it to you before at the restaurant?

"We'll be right back, Y/N," Eli nodded.

Whatever room they moved to was not far enough away or sound proof enough to keep their conversation from your ears.

"What the hell? You can't bring random girls to our home, Eli!"

"She's not some random girl. She's my sister. She has a difficult situation right now, am I not supposed to help her?"

"Doesn't that seem a little convenient to you? That your long lost sister suddenly finds you when she's fallen on hard times?"

"What are you even insinuating? I'm the one that ran into her at her work."

"I just think it's fishy. And you never talk about her. I think you've mentioned her twice the whole time we've been together, so what's with the big brother act?"

"I just feel bad, okay? Our parents weren't easy on her. I just want to help her out for once."

A long pause settled between them.

"Please. Just a couple weeks, three tops, until I can find her a place to live."

"Did she ask you for money?"

"No. She didn't even ask if she could stay here. But her other situation wasn't safe."

"Jesus. Are you sure she's even your sister? Hasn't it been like ten years? She still looks like a teenager."

"She's just small. It's her, trust me. Everything will be fine."

"Fine. But three weeks and not a day more, Eli."

You turned toward the door to leave. You didn't want to be an inconvenience, much less cause strife in their relationship. He'd already lied to her about you enough, saying that you ran away instead of telling her how and why you were thrown out of your home. Every moment you spent there would only heap more lies up between them. You didn't know what he was thinking of bringing you here, but he was misguided.

"Y/N," he spoke just as you reached for the door knob. "Everything is fine. Come, I'll show you the guest room."

There was always something that made your skin itch about a 'guest room.' Maybe it was just that you never needed it spelled out for you that you held a place of impermanence no matter where you went. You didn't belong. You wouldn't be staying long. These were things you knew without needing them codified in words. 

"There are fresh sheets in this closet," she told you, making a reappearance with a somewhat more believable smile on her face. "I would have made it up for you if I had some warning."

"That's fine. I can make it myself," you assured her quietly. "I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

She sighed quietly. "I'm Kate. There are extra blankets in there as well in case you get cold."

"Thanks, Kate," you murmured before she turned to leave.

"Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning," Eli said before he closed the bedroom door and you were alone.

The following day, Kate seemed to find reasons to be out of the house all day. You did your best to have as little contact with Eli as possible. I'm spite of his recent charity in bringing you here, you had never really been that close. The years between you and the resentment you felt were high barriers. Besides, you'd become too suspicious of kindness in your life to truly trust him. 

During the week, you returned to work, and even though he offered to drive you and pick you up, you insisted on taking the bus across town, if for no other reason than that it extended the time you were out of their home. When you were there, you cooked and cleaned. It was the only way you knew how to do penance for your ever inconvenient existence, the only payment of a perpetually uninvited guest. And when she realized how quiet and clean you were, Kate did thaw toward you, if only slightly. 

The main benefit of staying at their apartment was the opportunity to get quality sleep. It was quiet, and you were spared the frequent interruptions that occured in the shelter, as well as the constant anxiety of being around so many strangers and strong smells. Among the many practices that made the True Life Ministry different from other shelters was that they didn't separate you by secondary gender, only by male and female, so the threat of alphas was ever present. Although behavior was strictly monitored, you never felt entirely safe.

There was one thought that continued to itch in your brain as you laid on the bed and tried to sleep. It was still pretty early in the evening, but you'd had a pretty rotten day. One of the Lykos who frequently passed her days in the library had decided to make you an object of interest today, whiling away the afternoon throwing trash at you every time you came near where she sat in the computer lab while you emptied the bins or cleaned a table. Eventually, one of the librarians asked the alpha to leave, but it had already soured your mood. You cooked and ate dinner silently before turning in early, and even Kate was a little concerned by the way you kept your head hung low and didn't look at either of them even once. 

Now, the only comfort you could think of was sitting in the closet mere feet from your bed.

The blue and white striped blanket is so soft. At least start there.

You know you're not supposed to do that.

Hoseok said it was good for me and it was so nice when he did it.

You aren't Hoseok. You're barely even a fucking omega. You know it never leads to good things for you.

Please. Just a little nest. I need it. Just for a little while. Please.

You sat up in bed and stared at the closet door. There were several very soft blankets in there going unused. Kate did say you could use them.

She said if you got cold. You're not cold. You're fine.

"What's it going to hurt?" You whispered to yourself.

Do you really have to ask? Remember the first time? 

You pulled back the quilt laying on top of you and scooted off the edge of the bed. Creeping to the door, you opened it slowly.

You don't even know how to build a fucking nest. Don't even try.

It's not that hard. Start with the white one.

Eli told you to pretend. What if they find you acting like an animal?

For once you ignored the harsh whispers in your head and followed the smaller voice's instructions. You laid the soft white blanket out as a base, then bunched up two knitted blankets to make a perimeter. You didn't need a very big nest. You were so small. Finally you fluffed the striped throw blanket across the top before climbing into the nest. For once, all your voices quieted as you wiggled your body around, finding the perfect spot for you that made you feel warm and fuzzy and protected. All the world fell away as you nuzzled your face against the fluffy white blanket beneath you. You might have been falling asleep, or maybe just falling within yourself to a quiet, soft place you can only really remember going to when you were in Hoseok's nest last month. You'd never managed to get there with your former pack, where they mocked you for your pathetic attempts at a nest until you gave up altogether. 

Kate, despite her previous coldness toward you, could tell there was something wrong with you. She could tell you were still awake by the soft, albeit strange noises coming from the guest room, and decided to check on you to see if there was anything you needed. When you didn't answer her knocks, she decided to open the door anyway. It was her home after all, right? When she turned on the light, she didn't expect to see you lift your head from a pile of blankets, hair a static mess and pupils blown wide. You whimpered at the bright light.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her tone a mixture of shock and suspicion. "What's going on? Eli?" She called loudly.

You stared at her in confusion until he came to the doorway. "What?"

Kate pointed a finger at you. "What the hell is she doing?"

Eli cursed under her breath as he walked toward you on the bed. He took your face in his hands. "Wake up, Y/N. Snap out of it!" He muttered. 

"Is she…is she one of them?" She asked, pitched raised. You whimpered again.

"Damn it, Y/N," Eli groaned. "I didn't know."

"What do you mean? Are you one of them too?"

"No. No! She's adopted. You know that. My parents thought that's why she ran away, but I didn't know for sure," Eli lied.

"Fuck, Eli. You know how I feel about those...things," Kate cringed.

"Baby, please. I'm sure she's harmless." Eli approached her with open palms, but she only backed out of the room. 

"Get her the fuck out of my house. Right now!" She shouted. 

Eli looked between the two of you anxiously. He stepped closer to you once again and felt his heart clench at the desperately scared look in your wide, vulnerable eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but you have to go."

You whined and pressed yourself closer to the blankets, as if they would protect you. Eli sighed. You weren't difficult to pick up and pluck out of your nest. You'd lost whole pounds since your last heat.

"I'm sorry Yn," he muttered as he carried you down the hallway toward the door.

"Make sure she's out of the building," Kate grumbled as he went by her holding the door open.

Eli nodded and carried you into the elevator before he set you on unsteady feet. "You couldn't fucking hold it together could you?"

Your brain was scrambling to come back online, but you didn't have words yet. Fucking stupid omega brain.

"I swear to God if you ruined this for me," he muttered. You wished you could tell him what I fucking fake he was, but your tongue was glued to the top of your mouth. The elevator reached the lobby and Eli walked you outside. "Sorry, Y/N," he told you once more before he turned to go back inside. "Have a nice life."

The night air was chilly with that feeling it might rain at any second. You thanked yourself for wearing Yoongi's hoodie to bed and turned to walk in an unknown direction.

We fucking told you so. You never fucking listen.

Yoongi wasn't the only one who spent his nights on duty feeling like the next call was going to be the one he dreaded most. Rainy nights always filled Jungkook with a specific kind of dread. It was the kind of night that led to avoidable accidents, which is what he thought had happened when he and his partner stopped their patrol car behind a parked car in the middle of a narrow one way street. The short whoop of the police cruiser when they came to a stop got the attention of the driver of the car, who turned and quickly began shouting at Jungkook as soon as he opened the passenger side door.

"It wasn't my fault, officer! She pushed him in front of my car! There wasn't anything I could do!" The woman screamed hysterically.

"Calm down, ma'am," Jungkook's partner, Xavier, said cautiously before he leaned into his walkie talkie and requested back up. 

Meanwhile Jungkook walked around the passenger side of his vehicle and sniffed the air. The falling rain made it harder to smell the scents around him, but he managed to pick up a few things. The sour fear coming from the Sap woman, smoky sage, and blood. When he reached the front of the car, he could tell those last two scents came from the alpha lying unconscious in the road, blood flowing from his head to mix with the engine oil and rain water on the sleek blacktop. He knelt down when he got closer and spoke into his own radio to call for an ambulance. And then he smelled it. The apple cider vinegar that telegraphed your fear. 

No matter what Jin and Hoseok said, Yoongi wouldn't attribute the foreboding and acute anxiety he felt tonight to the possibility of fated mates. He felt nervous every night he sat in the ambulance waiting for the next call, hoping it wouldn't be your body that was injured. Tonight was rainy and dark and that always meant car accidents. Yoongi was just anticipating what anyone in his line of work would do on a night like tonight.  

"Do you think it will be her this time?" His coworker asked with casual cruelty as Yoongi drove to the scene of an accident. 

"Shut up," he muttered in reply.

"Don't be so sensitive. I thought alphas like you would be able to take a joke," the Sap teased.

"It's not a fucking joke." Yoongi barely held back a growl.

"Relax. You're not the first EMT to spend the night driving around looking for someone they love in every scene. We all go through it at some point. It's never them.*

But that was where he was wrong.

Yoongi freely admitted that he'd been a paranoid mess the last month, scanning every face at every site for you. But he had never imagined your smell, so he knew he wasn't imagining it now. It filled his senses the moment he opened the door of the ambulance. He could smell the blood, too, but he honed in on your scent only. He could focus on nothing else.

You were sitting on the curb between the bumpers of two parked cars with your head between your knees, but Yoongi didn't need to see your face to know it was you. Only you could be so small and fragile, even under the shock blanket Jungkook had the good sense to put over you. He wanted to scoop you up and get you out of the rain. The fact that Jungkook was standing protectively in front of you lessened his panic by a fraction.

"Is she hurt?" Yoongi asked, kneeling in front of you. "Y/N, are you okay?" 

You didn't respond, simply continued to rock back and forth with your hands clasped over your head. 

"She's not injured. She's just in shock. She hasn't said much," Jungkook told him.

Yoongi reached forward to touch your chin. "Look at me, princess. Let me see if you're okay."

When you lifted your eyes to his, you looked as terrified as you smelled. "Alpha? Is he dead?" You asked painfully.

"Yoongi, over here!" His partner called from the road. The alpha didn't take his eyes off you. How could he leave you like this? "Yoongi!"

"Go on, hyung. Do your job. I'll take care of her. I won't let her out of my sight. I promise."

Yoongi's eyes remained locked on yours for a moment longer. You had asked him only one thing, and if getting you reassurance was all he could do then that's what he would do. "I'll go check on him. Everything will be okay, princess. Wait here." He tried his best to sound reassuring as he stroked your wet hair and you leaned into his touch before he tore himself away to go help the alpha bleeding out on the asphalt. 

His sage scent faded as life drained from him, but the other EMT was applying pressure to his head wound, so he wasn't gone yet. Yoongi went into autopilot to help his partner stabilize the patient, but he was desperate to know what had happened and how you had been involved. Should he even be saving this man? Who was he to you? 

They managed to get the man onto the stretcher and into the ambulance while he still clung to life without Yoongi having much idea at all of what he was doing. He stayed in the back with the patient while his partner drove, otherwise Yoongi would never be able to make himself leave without you.

"Y/N, I'm taking you to the police station," Jungkook told you after the ambulance had left and another police officer had taken the driver of the car away. 

Without any other acknowledgement, you stood, letting the shock blanket fall from your shoulders as you turned your back on Jungkook and placed your hands behind your back.

Jungkook frowned, "you're not under arrest, Y/N. I'm just taking you to the station to give a statement and wait for someone to come get you."

You turned to look at him confusedly. "No one will come for me."

Jungkook smiled sadly. "Yoongi will come. Let's go."

At the station, Jungkook sat you next to his desk in the bullpen and went to go get you a warm drink. He placed a paper cup of hot tea in your hands, which you took without looking at it or him, but just stared blankly ahead.

"Y/N, can you tell me what happened before the accident?" Jungkook asked, fingers poised over his keyboard.

"Eli threw me out."

"What?"

"Was walking. Was raining but…nowhere to go." You took a sip of the too hot tea to ease the dryness of your throat. "Smelled him first. Hate that smell. So I walked faster, but he's bigger, faster. He caught me. Grabbed my arm."

"Did he hurt your arm?" Jungkook asked. You honestly didn't know. You felt numb all over, just like you had since you'd smelled the burning sage earlier. Setting down the small cup, you pulled up the sleeve of Yoongi's hoodie to reveal the bruises that were blossoming along your forearm. "Shit," Jungkook muttered. "We'll take pictures in a minute. What happened next?" 

"We argued."

"About what?"

"Wanted me to come with him. Didn't want to."

Jungkook studied your face cautiously. "Why did he want you to come with him?" 

You shrugged. "Same as always. Wanted to breed me."

"Is that Eli?" He questioned.

You shook your head. "Eli is my brother."

Jungkook nodded. "But you know that man."

You nodded dumbly. "My alpha."

Jungkook felt his stomach turn over and over. Knowing what little he did about your experience with your past alpha, your barely-there behavior made more sense.

"What happened when you argued?"

You swallowed. "I tried to get away, to get him off. He wouldn't let go, so I–I pushed him and he slipped. He fell into the street and then the car was there."

"Did you see the car before you pushed him?" Maybe Jungkook shouldn't have asked. He wasn't formally interrogating you. Something in him just wanted to know.

You shook your head. "Its lights weren't on. Dark and wet. Couldn't see behind him."

Jungkook swallowed thickly and turned his attention to his screen to finish entering the information you had given him.

"Did I kill him?" You asked blankly, making Jungkook pause to look at you.

"He was still alive when they left the scene. Even if anyone is at fault, we would first look at the driver of the car. You aren't in any trouble right now, Y/N." You nodded in understanding. "For now, it's probably best if you stay quiet."

You were sure time passed, although you didn't feel it. Jungkook went and came back, took photos of the bruises on your arm and brought you a fresh drink. The world continued to turn because it had never stopped for any of your crises, big or small, why would it now? It might have been hours or minutes. You couldn't tell. Everything around you was blocked out until you felt a cold breeze sweep through the station carrying a sharp citrus scent.

Alpha.

Without any thought, you found yourself on your feet. As if acting on their own, they shuffled past the rows of desks. There was a wall and gate separating the back part of the station from the public entry, but you pushed past them until you could see Yoongi. His black hair dripped rainwater onto his cheeks, and he pushed the wet strands back. You couldn't hear what he was asking the officer at the desk, but the words went silent when he turned toward you. Without an invitation you found yourself pressed against his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist.

It took him half a second to respond, encircling you in his own strong arms and holding you to him. "It's alright," he whispered.

You nuzzled your forehead against his chest and murmured back, "Alpha."

I hope the end of this roller coaster made up for the journey. I promise it's going to get better now. Thank you for sticking it out. Please tell me what you've liked in this chapter or any time up until now, and what you're looking forward to or hoping for going forward. Here's a Yoongi, you've earned it.

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[saphronethaleph]

Obscure Legends Reference Bingo

“So how come you got the medal, anyway?” Biggs asked, grinning, and punched Luke in the shoulder.

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Luke replied. “I said you and Wedge should get them too. That was great cover you guys gave, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He sighed. “I had this… feeling, while you were behind me. Like nothing was going to go wrong. And even when you left, I was sure that I’d do it. I couldn’t describe how, but it felt…”

“It felt like you could feel what was going to happen, right?” Biggs asked. “I could feel that too, I thought I was imagining it.”

Luke nodded, then frowned, then glanced up at Biggs.

“What could you feel?” he asked.

“It was… there was darkness, behind you,” Biggs replied. “Chasing you. Trying to destroy you. And I could feel when shots were going to go past me and not hit you, and I could feel when they were going to go past me and hit you. And… I tried to stay back as far as possible, so they couldn’t get past you, and when a shot was going to hit you, I let it hit me instead.”

He glanced towards the hangar. “Which is why my X-wing’s missing most of a wing. Sorry I couldn’t stay with you the whole way.”

“You did what you could, and that was more than enough,” Luke said. “Tatooine boys forever, right?”

“You bet, Luke!” Biggs agreed. “Man, I’m going to have to tell you how I got here… who would have thought it, right?”

He paused, and Luke knew why.

A voice had just touched their awareness.

Someone is here at last.

“Who said that?” Biggs asked. “Luke?”

“Not me, and that didn’t sound like Obi-Wan,” Luke replied.

He closed his eyes, focusing, trying to draw on the memory of what that contact had felt like.

Can you hear me?

“I heard that,” Biggs said, amazed. “That was you, Luke?”

“That was me,” Luke agreed.

Yes, a voice replied. If you can hear me… I need help. I’ve waited so long for someone sensitive to the Force to come to this moon. You need to contact the Jedi Order and have them send a Padawan.

Luke and Biggs exchanged confused looks.

What’s a Padawan? Luke replied, homing in on the thing he absolutely did not understand.

...hmm, the voice said, thoughtfully. If you don’t know that… how old are you?

“Weird question,” Biggs muttered.

Nineteen, Luke sent back, finding it easier every time. Or, I am. Biggs is older. But… the Jedi Order doesn’t exist any more. I only learned how to do this a few days ago and Biggs I think found out yesterday?

“The day before,” Biggs answered the question. “I first realized it when I was out finding an antidote for an illness Hobbie Klivan had – it’s his X-Wing you were flying, Luke.”

Nineteen, nineteen… the voice said. And you’re humans… well, I have to hope it will do. Come to this temple, please – as soon as possible.

Luke and Biggs exchanged glances as a location impressed itself into their mind.

“I can’t fly until my fighter’s repaired,” Biggs pointed out.

“I’m not technically part of the Rebellion yet, I think,” Luke replied. “Hold on, I’ll ask Han for a lift…”

“So where have you been?” Leia asked, some hours later, as the Millennium Falcon’s ramp lowered. “You know everyone else is busy, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke said. “But this was important.”

Leia’s gaze flicked across to the small, furry animal on his shoulder.

“A pet is important?” she asked.

“No,” the pet replied. “But freeing the souls of an entire race’s children – that is important, and it is what they have done.”

Biggs sniggered.

“Yeah, this was a surprise to us, too,” he said, throwing an arm around Luke. “Turns out nineteen does technically count as a child for the purposes of Sith Magic.”

“...so, you talk?” Leia asked.

“I certainly do,” the animal agreed. “Jedi Master Ikrit, at your service – I am a Kushiban, in case you are wondering. I would be delighted to help teach these two how to use their powers, and-”

“Ikrit?” General Dodonna repeated. “Jedi Master Ikrit?”

He looked completely poleaxed. “You were on snack toys before the Clone Wars! I distinctly remember saving one of them for a nephew!”

“Oh, dear…” the Kushiban said, ears flicking a little. “That is… not precisely the impression I would have expected to make…”

[chrysoula]

Albedo spent sixty years rescuing Nahida from her cage, because he was looking for a challenge to test himself against. He didn't spend much time thinking about how, after the rush of satisfaction had faded, he would be in possession of a newborn god of wisdom who was so lost she tried to go back into her cage.

"Why are you here?" she asked, puzzled, as soon as the door to her cage opened. "There's so much-- You did so much, so why are you here?"

He stared at her as all of his sense of accomplishment washed away.

She began to gabble. "I knew something was happening, I could see your echoes, the ripples like a fish underwater, and I didn't know what you could want but I helped you when I could, because I wanted to see them beaten so why are you here?"

Because this is the finish line. But he knew better than to say that. Instead, he ran a rapid post-mortem on his plans over the last sixty years. When had the flaw been introduced, and how could he compensate for it?

"Okay," she said into the silence. "Now what?" Her eyes reminded him of glass marbles.

"I don't know what you want me to do," she said bitterly after a moment. "There's nothing I can do."

It was a worldview alien to Albedo. Ever since his mother abandoned him, he'd practiced turning his knowledge into power over the world around him. Before they called him a mastermind, they called him a meddler, and usually he didn't bother tidying up when he was done. 

"Oh. I see," she said, drawing her own conclusion and dropping her gaze. "You didn't come for me after all. How stupid I am." 

And even then, he struggled. He could see the potential shapes of the consequence he'd created and he didn't like them. He'd done something terrible and he had to repair it, but how--??

Tears began to spill from those green eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm just not good enough yet. I shouldn't... I shouldn't get involved." And, wiping her eyes, she'd turned to step back into the cage.

That, at least, he could respond to. "No, don't do that. It would only make things worse."

"What?" She half-turned, her mouth open in surprise.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?" That was probably a safe thing to ask in the situation. The government imprisoning her had been thoroughly disabled that morning. And newborns were often hungry.

"What?" she repeated, and then ran over to him. "Did you change your mind?"

Pleasantly, he said, "I think you did, but that's not an important detail at the moment. Why don't we sit down and talk about a few things?"

She promptly sat down, looking up at him with clear curiosity. He sat down on the ground too, refining his evaluation of her. "First of all, do you have a name of your own? One that doesn't belong to the Archon?"

"Nahida," she said, possibly for the first time. She looked a little surprised, in any case.

"I'm happy to meet you, Nahida. My name is Albedo." He gave her a friendly smile, and she stared at him like she was decoding his face. "Let's try to figure out what you'd like to do now."

"May I ask a question first?" She spoke with a respectfulness he didn't deserve. Not from her, anyhow. He'd have to earn it first.

"Please do. I'll do my best to answer it." While she formulated her thoughts, he began to synthesize some fish snacks he hoped she'd find palatable.

"Beyond your name, who are you?" It was a question carefully considered, and not the one he expected. But her earnest gaze remained fixed on him.

He considered his own response. It wasn't a question he was in the habit of answering. "Mostly, I plan things for other people. I'm quite clever and I've lived a long time compared to most, so I have certain advantages I enjoy sharing. In quite a few places, I'm considered a criminal, because what I help people do is often illegal. " He offered her the fish snacks. "I also engage in projects of my own, like this one."

She accepted one and nibbled on it. He observed as her eyes widened and she nibbled a bit more before finally making a face and putting it down. "I don't know how to taste it right. I'll work on it later."

"Is that what you want to do?" He saw this as a natural way of leading back to the core topic, but when she flinched, admitted to himself that such directness might have been a little cruel after already thrusting so much change on her unannounced.

"Do you think it tastes good?" she asked him uncertainly.

"Yes, I do."

She thought for a moment. "I'd like to learn to like it too, then. And I want to stay with you, please."

Did gods imprint? He'd never looked into the question. But the truth remained: she might be the god of wisdom, but she was also a powerful and traumatized child. If he walked away now, one way or another, she'd show up in his life again, the worse for it.

Calmly, he said, "Yes, I thought you might say that. Do you also want to rule Sumeru?"

She shrugged, curled up in a ball, rocked back and forth. "Sumeru is a dream to me, a world on the other side of pages and glass." Then she sat up again. "But you are somebody I never imagined existed. That seems more interesting than governing a country that doesn't want me to exist, all by myself."

"I agree," he said. "Still, having Sumeru on a stable footing may be useful in the future, so we should probably sort out the knot I made before we go on our way."

[anactualdump]

Peeks in do you have anything on my favorite guy Benoît? Art, info, ANYTHING even little trivia, life outside of work, life in work I BEG ANYTHING 🛐

yap below!

he's exactly this guy from zombie land saga what else can i say BHAHA

fr i only watch this anime for this guy i swear to go 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Benoît Sauveterre

in canon, i pretty much already explained most his story. he met ui by begging for work, and ui obliges

at ep 1, ben was in his early 20s. at that time, ui was much more cold and unforgiving to his own citizens, and so was harsh to ben (akin to auditor treating his employees except he just barks at them instead of hurting xD)

ben is less willing to show himself unless ui asked (never) due to fear. so he stays at the bunker (not the spoiler, smaller one where his office is similar to madcom version), and is more cautious how he presents himself

his task was to keep watch the security cameras, and spot the thumpers for anomalies. ui pays by small generator parts, which are pretty good for trading, and food + water. ben can kinda ask for anything else for trade and ui can morph it with his ability, such as guns.

ben has habits of not doing his job, and thumpers usually have an underheated core problem. it must be maintained so there'll be a lower chance of it activating. thumpers in contidel are technically already given the order to activate, but was countered by keeping them overheated, making it think it's still in porlivium

ben is tasked to send warning alarms to what's responsible for maintaining the thumper- a giant building which is a similar robot to the guardian, built next to the thumpers. it's right next to it here (these are super old phone drawings xd)

these support bots detect the heat automatically, but prone to needing repairs (a lot like ui's revival tube for shi). so ben is to watch the overall conditions

unbeknownst to ben, ui is doing his own job for him behind his back lol. normally underheated thumpers very rarely activated nowadays, from millions of years inactive so the order for activation is a bit lost. but it's still possible to reactivate, ui isn't taking much chances with it but is willing to be less strict from how rarely it occurs

later on, when ui starts to turn more empathetic and talks to him casually. ben quickly warms up to him and shows his more goofy and formal ("""formal""") side. a job is a job, gotta be classy while hustling

ui allows ben to do anything as long as he does his job. outside, he always makes sure to keep his little brothers fed and tries his best to teach them how to survive like him.

not the best advices ngl but he's trying, thankfully his family is already quite capable in taking care of themselves, as contids do, though they may not look contid. he's quite content with what he has, his brothers once grown up travel quite a lot, but ben always stays at ui's. mostly too lazy to get out

for madcom it's a little different

ben started out as a normal nowhere resident before improbability made him lost in the void sauce which also made him a vegetable

and when a new place other than nevada is created, he's reanimated, and meets this certain employer named conductor (polaroid). at the time no local knew what happened or who he is

he doesnt interact much but he soon employs them to construct new buildings and begin transport of nevadean materials they never seen before, with a strange way to pass from the nowhere to nevada. this made living in nowhere a clusterfuck as improbability disasters disapprove of this new country's creation

ben, whom forgotten who he was before the improbability, then begged for work as well. due to the improbability drive, everyone is just discovering the different effects of the nowhere's version of it compared to nevada's and trying to get by. conductor by then already had aahw bases set up, and promises him an important job

he ends up making ben one of the first original clone manufactures, with an experiment to connect all of the ben clones into one mind. this was to remove the difficulty of hiring and making grunts skip the process of agent to atp, as the agent roles will all be fulfilled by ben. they will all go straight to atp training

so at this point, it's become fact that every agent in the nowhere is ben XD

ben himself felt a little betrayed at first but soon took a liking to his new hivemind likeness. though dealing with conductor was like grazing a fork on an empty plate from all the "brainstorming" conductor discusses with him to annoy his colleagues

ben assumes all employers are like this and starts procrastinating doing his job properly, to spite conductor

but before he'll realise ben's slower workforce, conductor suddenly disappeared for a long time and never heard from him since. everyone was at a standstill, doing their job as usual but not progressing anything. which, in the meantime, he passes the time by befriending everyone as much as he can

then one day another new employer was sent in one of the aahw bases, but only meant to be staying there as a guest, who then kinda disobeyed that and started training the soldats in that specific building

he starts to be a bit disgruntled to employers in general. ben hears another employer checks the other up once in awhile but never stays long so he doesnt see who that is. then both disappeared as well for awhile. and then ANOTHER employer arrives with a tiny grunt who apparently can't go back to nevada anymore, decides to commit genocide and then take over the whole place

this employer then allows you to be his employee and then makes the country work a little better than what it was before, then giant building things appear out of nowhere destroyed like half the city. this employer then, afterwards, became humbled apparently and starts to be a nicer overall person. what a time to live in ben's perspective 🤣🤣🤣

rainworld au is the least developed but more open to future stories and ideas, so I'd rather keep it unspoken for now x3

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from The Revelator:

There’s no sugarcoating it: The 2024 election was terrible news for science, the environment, and the role of expertise and evidence in public policymaking. A lot of important things we care about and have worked hard to create and protect are going to be broken, some beyond repair. Destructive things we worked hard to prevent are going to happen — including some that we won’t be able to undo.

While nothing exactly like the second Trump administration has happened before, some elements of what we’re likely to see mirror the era of Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper. And several scientists affected by Harper’s repressive policies tell me that by working together and planning strategically, we will be able to stop some of this.

During Harper’s time in office, from 2006-2015, Canadian government scientists were prevented from sharing their expertise in government policymaking. The government also banned them from speaking to journalists or the public, often referred to as “muzzling.” The Harper administration destroyed libraries and stopped some new hiring of experts in key areas.

The intent was simple: The administration had ideological policy goals, and they weren’t interested in letting facts, evidence or reality get in the way of achieving them.

The second Trump administration will almost certainly do this — and worse. They already took a stab at it the first time, when government experts who warned the public about harmful policy choices faced serious professional retaliation and taxpayer-funded sources of key information were suppressed, hidden, or even deleted.

What can we do about it?

I spoke with several colleagues who experienced working under the Harper administration, as well as several experts in the role of evidence-based public policymaking. They offered some clear advice.

Step One: They Can’t Delete What They Don’t Exclusively Control

For scientists working at government agencies, they suggest making copies of everything so it can be stored somewhere else — and to do that as soon as possible, certainly well before the next administration starts.

Step Two: Prepare to Speak Out (or Blow the Whistle)

Once the new administration takes place, one of the first things they’re likely to do will be to institute their own muzzling policy.

With this in mind, several colleagues pointed out the importance of getting information about what’s happening to the public. Investigative journalism sites like ProPublica are already actively seeking sources from government agency employees and have provided detailed information on how to safely and anonymously  communicate with them. Research those options now, so you have the tools in your back pocket.

Step Three: Collaborate (Sometimes Quietly)

There’s another way to make sure important work still happens and gets communicated, several colleagues told me: Government scientists can work as part of teams that include external scientists. Working with collaborators on research projects means that even if you aren’t allowed to comment on a result or project, someone else can share it.

Step Four: Reveal How the Sauce Is Made

Several experts pointed out that agency-level regulatory decisions and reports, and changes to internal policies about how to communicate them with the public, rarely make headlines. This means that far too much of this will happen in the shadows. At the same time, we all have a duty to make sure that everyone knows that — despite some occasional bureaucratic annoyances — we are safer, healthier, and more prosperous when key decisions are made by people who know what they’re talking about evaluating the best available evidence, rather than by uninformed idealogues. 

Step Five: Embrace Bureaucracy

And what if you see potential harm coming down the pike? Some experts advise using all the resources at your disposal to slow their implementation. Large bureaucracies like government agencies have their advantages in this regard.

Step Six: As Painful As This Is, We Can Get Through It

While the “muzzling” of scientific expertise under the Harper administration has effects that are still being felt a decade later, it did not and will not last forever. Neither will this.

[blood-n-candy]

Concept: Exterminator Mode for Pressure (Part 2)

Welcome to the second half of the Exterminator Mode concept post! If you haven't read part 1 yet, please do (it has very much needed context).

In this post I'll explain the post-mode consequences and the badges you would obtain if this thing was real.

Regret Mode: the consequences of killing everyone in the whole Hadal Blacksite

Done with killing your targets? GOOD!

All that is left to do is grab the crystal, go through the Ridge with only worrying about Squiddles and Wall Dwellers (that's why reading Part 1 before this post is important!), repair the cables without a worry in the world and arrive at the pickup site!

Once you're in the submarine, you will meet Mr. Lopee again:

"Congratulations, young one! You've done it. Hope you've enjoyed your deadly stroll, because you're about to taste Hell. What? You thought all you had to pay was the initial fee? Oh, you naive, little goldfish: you remember your own deaths, and so do they!"

Ruh Roh! Looks like you'll have to strap in for the next three runs, for those will be in Regret Mode! This is what is going to happen:

Eyefestation will appear more frequently, and there will be chance it'll appear in Enraged mode. From the speaker it will call you a murderer and a coward for not looking into the eyes of your victim.

p.A.I.nter will have an aggressive demeanor towards you, its voicelines stripped of its usual playful snarkyness. Eyefestation Gauntlets and Turret rooms will appear more frequently

When trying to interact with the Imaginary Friend's remote, the following message will play: "Due to unforeseen events, Imaginary Friend Remote(TM) has halted their services as of now. We apologize for the inconvenience, we will reactivate the service as soon as possible." Nothing happens after that

Sebastian will not open his shop for you, will yell at you to go away instead. If trying to break in with glitches, you will be shot by Sebastian as soon as the game detects that you're in the shop.

The room to the Exterminator Kit will stay locked for the remaining of the Regret Mode runs.

Mr. Lopee will be the one presenting you with documents in case you die, as well as take any classified documents you might find.

The existance of Regret Mode, a modifier that cannot be overrideable unless you play three runs (regardless of death or not), exists to debuff the Exterminator Mode feature and to avoid it being overused by players (something that happens in Yandere Simulator with the Genocide Ending). It also serves as a little challenge to "redeem" yourself in the eyes of the entities.

Once you die for the first time after Regret Mode ends (so 4th death after completing Exterminator Mode), you will finally meet Sebastian to give you the document. He will have a special voiceline for this occasion:

"Sigh... He told me I had to go back to my old tasks, which means having to interact with you... Let me be clear, "friend": I haven't forgiven you for what you've done. But he is leaving me no choice. Now, be fast with reading your document and get out of my sight."

Exterminator Mode: Badges!

Final part of the concept is the badges! Might design some someday, for now there's only a list:

Here comes the Reaper: activate Extermination Mode for the first time

Gone fishing: kill Angler and its variants at least once

STAY DOWN!: kill Pandemonium

I dare you to look at me again, fool!: kill Eyefestation

The Bad Guest: kill the Good People

Imaginary Friend, Real Betrayer: kill the Imaginary Friend

ERROR 404: Life.exe Not Found: kill the p.A.I.nter

It's Payback time: kill Sebastian

Mutual Pillaging: take everything in Sebastian's shop after killing him

A deadly meal: kill the Searchlight

Bad Hunter: In the Ridge, die to Mr. Lopee after failing to kill all the targets

Extra killings: kill Squiddles and Wall Dwellers for a total of 10 times

Woah, that's a bit over the top: kill Squiddles and Wall Dwellers for a total of 50 times

...Was it really necessary?: kill Squiddles and Wall Dwellers for a total of 100 times

The real monster was you all along: complete Exterminator Mode for the first time

A debt etched in blood: start a run in Regret Mode for the first time

Access Denied: get denied entrance to Sebastian's shop

This was supposed to be a punishment, for Urbanshade's sake!: win a run in Regret Mode

Fine, we forgive you (kinda): complete three runs in Regret Mode, deactivating it until next Exterminator Run

And that's all! Thank you for reading the posts! Let me know what do you think about this concepts, and if you have any suggestions!

[ak-vintage]

Quarry - Chapter 6

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader

Summary: Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. After all, Nevarro is swiftly moving away from its previous reputation as a Guild member’s paradise, and Din has more important concerns now, like finding a Jedi to train his mysterious foundling. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.

Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.

Set after Chapter 13: The Jedi but before Chapter 14: The Tragedy.

Chapter Tags & Warnings: Reader is Mando's bounty, second-person POV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptors of reader character, unresolved sexual tension, pining, light angst

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

“Mando!” The rich, gregarious voice of Magistrate Greef Karga crackled through the Razor Crest’s communication channel, his wizened face pale blue and smiling from the holo-projector. “What a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect to hear from you again until you returned to Nevarro. Which should be soon, I hope?”

Almost two standard months had passed since Din Djarin had departed his de facto home base, the worst of the damage done to the Razor Crest on his journey to Trask repaired at Karga’s expense and seven bounty pucks burning holes in his pockets. As his responsibilities to the growing settlement had increased, and as the prominence of Nevarro as a bounty hunter’s haven had decreased, the older man had been spending less and less time on his role as a Guild agent and more time steeped in political endeavors.

“I only have a dozen or so new bounties left, Mando,” he had admitted before Din left for Corvus. “And I don’t plan to accept any more in the coming months – my time is stretched too thin as it is.”

Through his signature mix of flattery and pragmatism, Karga had bid him to take at least half of them with him when he left.

“I didn’t reinstate your status with the Guild for nothing, my friend! I know I can rely on you to deliver on these assets as efficiently as possible. And, if what you say is true and you will be spending some time away reuniting your boy with his people, perhaps you will appreciate having a bit of extra income in the meantime, hmm?”

When he put it that way, Din hadn’t been able to refuse. It hadn’t been long ago that he and the child had been on the run from the Guild, burning through the Mandalorian’s meager savings on fuel and food and ship repairs. He had yet to be able to make up for that extended period of unemployment. And who knew how long it would take him to find the one and only Jedi that he had any leads on locating – the one that Bo-Katan had promised dwelled on Corvus?

At the time, it had felt like a wise financial decision. One last hunt for Karga. Seven bounties, all with generous prices on their heads.

Now, several weeks after landing on Corvus, locating the fabled Ahsoka Tano, and helping her free the oppressed city of Calodan, Din couldn’t help but feel even more grateful for the choice. With every step along this journey, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the moment that he would have to part ways with the foundling in his care. He had expected for that moment to arrive when he found Ahsoka, but her instructions to take Grogu to yet another planet and to find yet another Jedi had unexpectedly brought the bounty hunter a measure of relief.

He had more time with the child. And if he chose to prolong that time by using it to hunt down these half-dozen bounties before he ferried Grogu to the temple on Tython, that was just a good business decision.

Except now, it wasn’t only Grogu he had bought himself more time with. Now, he had a troublesome starship engineer to worry about, as well – taking up space in his ship and in his mind and in his bunk.

And something about you just wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Yes,” Din replied, nodding once. “I’m headed there now.”

Karga beamed at him from across subspace. “Wonderful! A successful hunt?”

“Of course.”

“Ha!” The older man clapped his hands together almost gleefully. “I would expect nothing less. So, what can I do for you, my friend?”

The Mandalorian weighed his words carefully before he responded. “I was hoping you might have some additional information about one of my quarries.” He said your full name then, for the first time since he had laid your bounty puck on the bar in your cantina. He hadn’t had much occasion to say it since, but he found he liked the feel of it in his mouth. It suited you.

Karga frowned slightly, and Din watched as he spun in his desk chair to pull his computer console closer to him. “Let me pull up her file… Hm. There’s not much here, I’m afraid. It looks like almost everything I have on her was loaded to the bounty puck.” He looked back at the holo-projector, making eye contact as best as he was able through the comm link. “Why do you ask? You can’t be having any issues tracking this one down, can you? I would have estimated her to be far below your abilities, Mando.”

“No issues. I have her in custody.” Din’s voice sounded tight and curt even to his own ears.

The magistrate’s brow rose in interest. “Then what’s the problem?”

The question lingered in the silence for a moment, and the bounty hunter swallowed thickly. “…I’m not sure. I just have a feeling,” he admitted. “I can’t figure out why someone would put a bounty out on her. My instincts are telling me that something about this is…wrong.”

He had given the issue little thought at the beginning. It had been just another day, and you had been just another quarry, remarkable only in just how far below his skill level you were – it had been impossibly easy to track your location, and with your lack of combat abilities, it had been even easier to capture you. It was why he had gone after you first out of the lot. He had known what a simple, cut-and-dry job it would be.

Over the last two months, however, it had become clear that you were anything but simple. You were brilliant, perhaps the most skilled starship engineer Din had ever met. The Razor Crest had never run so smoothly as it did with you onboard. For a pre-Empire vessel, it was almost unbelievable how many performance gains your work had managed to eek out of her. And you were gentle, with a soft heart and a tender touch. You nursed Din’s wounds with compassionate efficiency, treated his Creed with silent respect, and piloted his ship like one born to it. You cared for Grogu like he was your own, filling the Crest with your children’s songs, your instruction, your easy laughter.

And you were hiding so much. You never spoke of your past unless the situation required it. Din knew nothing about the circumstances that led to you leaving the Chardaan Shipyards. He knew nothing about why that departure would warrant someone issuing a bounty on your behalf. And in those moments that you came close to revealing any more about yourself than was strictly required, you swiftly navigated the conversation in another direction. For someone who prided himself on knowing everything there was to know about his quarries, it was maddening.

For someone who found himself growing dangerously closer to you by the day, it stung more than he cared to admit.

“You know as well as I do, Mando, that it’s not up to the Guild to question why a client would put out a bounty on an asset. Only to deliver it.” Karga’s gentle admonishment pulled Din out of his wayward thoughts. “In exchange for compensation, of course,” he added good-naturedly.

The Mandalorian bit back a groan of irritation. “Believe me, I know.” After a moment’s consideration, he asked, “Can you at least tell me who the client is? Who originated the bounty?”

The other man sighed, the sound buzzing through the comm link, but he offered Din a weary smile all the same. “Only for you, my friend. Let me see…” He tapped the screen on his computer console a few times, his eyes tracking through your file with practiced ease. “It looks like her bounty originated on the planet Chardaan by a man named Orron Halcard.”

Din frowned inside his helmet, considering this. Orron Halcard. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

Karga shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. It’s certainly not a name I’ve ever seen before in the system.” He seemed to let that response hang in the silence for a second, and then he asked, “Anything else I can do for you?”

The bounty hunter weighed the offer, wondering if perhaps he was about to push the Guild code a bit too far. Ultimately, however, he knew himself well enough to know that he would feel more regret for not having said anything at all. “I have one more favor to ask,” he said.  

“Be my guest!”

“Can you get in contact with him and ask him to come pick up his bounty in person, on Nevarro?”

The warmth and indulgence with which Karga had been entertaining this conversation seemed to dissolve, and he regarded Din with serious eyes. “Now, why would he want to do that?” There was an edge to the question, a clear warning to word his response with caution.

So, Din chose to tell him a half-truth. “Because his bounty isn’t in carbonite, and she has a penchant for escaping high-surveillance areas. He may want to escort her back to Chardaan himself, to make sure she actually arrives.”

That was a legitimate concern, he reasoned. Karga did not need to know that you bafflingly had not attempted escape since that first chase out of the cantina.

For his part, the magistrate looked taken aback by this answer. “You kept her out of carbonite? You surprise me. What is it that you really want?” He brought a hand to his neatly-trimmed beard, stroking it pensively as he considered the impassive Mandalorian. After a few seconds, he paused with a frown. “You want to meet the man.”

Din did not respond but simply stared back at Karga through the holo-projector. He saw no need to confirm or deny this assertion. The magistrate was an intelligent man, and they had been colleagues for many years. He was one of the few people in the galaxy Din could consider a friend. He had no interest in outright lying to him.

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer, the older man demanded, “What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here, Mando?”

“Like I said. Something’s not right,” Din eventually repeated. “I can’t just…” He trailed off.

I can’t just hand her over, not like this, he had been about to say. But he knew that Karga would not take well to that admission. Instead, he said, “I need to look him in the eyes. I need to understand what kind of person he is.”

Karga sighed heavily then, massaging the pressure points on either side of his nose. When he looked back up at the holo-projector, his expression was hard with frustration. “I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he said seriously. “You are my friend and by far my best hunter. I was willing to move past your stunt with the child because of our long history, and because those damned Imperials were involved, but I will not allow you to put another exchange in jeopardy. It’s a bad look, both for me and for the Guild.” He pointed at Din sharply. “So, whatever it is you’re planning, you must promise me now – if I bring this Orron Halcard to Nevarro, you will turn over the bounty.”

Din released the breath he had been holding and inclined his head at the magistrate. “You have my word.”

“Very well.” Something in Karga’s posture eased, but his voice remained solemn. “Consider it done. He will be here by the time you enter the star system.”

“Thank you. I’m in your debt for this, Karga,” the Mandalorian promised.

The older man shook his head and waved dismissively at that. “Just…please. Don’t do anything stupid?”

Din smirked and permitted himself a small chuckle. “I’ll try. See you in a few days.” With one final nod, he flipped the comm link switch, and the holo-projector went dark.

___

You were sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bunk watching Grogu roll a small metal ball around the cargo hold floor, killing time until dinner, when Mando dropped down the ladder from the cockpit level with a metallic thud.

“Hey,” you greeted him, offering a small smile. It had been several hours since he had last emerged from the cockpit – once to clean his blaster, then again an hour or so later to use the privy. A part of you had wondered whether you would climb up there later only to find him slumped over, dozing in the pilot’s chair as he so often did.

“Hey,” he echoed. His voice was soft, with that gentle rasp that had become so familiar over these last weeks. “May I join you?” he asked, and warmth bloomed in your chest, both at the question itself and that he felt the need to ask it at all.

“Of course, by all means. We’re playing an absolutely riveting game, can’t you tell?” You gestured to the kid with a wry smile. Grogu cooed and grinned up at you both from his position on the floor.

A laugh filtered through Mando’s helmet modulator, and your grin broadened in response. “I can see that.”

You hopped down from your perch on the bunk. “I was just about to warm up a couple of ration packs for the two of us. You want one?” you offered, crossing over to the chilled storage locker.

“I don’t – ”

“ – eat in front of others, I know,” you finished for him. “It’s okay. I’ll sit over here and turn around.” You pointed to the gray storage bins, your second favorite place to sit in the cargo hold after the bunk. “No peaking at your face, promise.”

The Mandalorian cocked his head, appearing to consider your words. Despite the amount of time you had spent together at this point, the two of you had never eaten in the same room before. But something told you that as long as you were respectful of his privacy, the invitation wouldn’t be unwelcome.

At least, you hoped it wouldn’t be. Mando had yet to explicitly explain to you the rules regarding his armor and his helmet. Everything you had done over the last two months to accommodate his needs had been pure guesswork on your part, and all you had been able to deduce for sure in that time was that the helmet was a non-negotiable. Perhaps as long as he trusted you not to look, he might allow himself the luxury of letting his guard down enough to share a meal with you.

Just as you were about to offer to send him back to the cockpit with his food, however, he agreed. “Fine,” he said, his voice hesitant, but that didn’t stop the smile from splitting your cheeks.

“Perfect!”

You made idle conversation as you prepared the ration packs – this time some variety of fish in a savory broth with limp, green vegetables and a rehydrated biscuit. You peppered him with questions - whether he had finished cleaning his blaster, if he was noticing a difference in the air quality since you had turned the air recycler upside down and scrubbed it top to bottom, how the day’s navigation had gone, if there had been any major galactic anomalies to circumvent or other ships to dodge. He responded to each one briefly, with one or two-word answers, but you knew better than to ascribe any negative feelings to that. The Mandalorian was a man of few words. The fact that he was conversing with you at all told you that he was enjoying himself.

When the ration packs had sufficiently re-heated, you peeled back their metallic lids and passed one of them into his waiting hands. “Here you go,” you said. You gestured over your shoulder with your thumb. “We’ll go sit over there. C’mon, womp rat.” Grogu extended his little arms to you, and you swooped him up to balance on your hip. The two of you clamored up onto one of the storage bins, and you settled facing the rear exit, turning your backs to the bounty hunter.

“There, see? Can’t see your face, and you can actually have a hot meal for once. Everybody wins,” you said good-naturedly. Grogu squealed with joy as you passed him his meal, and you thought you heard a quiet, modulated chuckle from behind you.

“If you say so,” Mando replied. There was a hint of a smile evident in his voice, and suddenly you were grateful to be facing away from him so that he couldn’t see the color rise in your cheeks at the sound.

And then came a sound you had never heard before – a pneumatic hiss, followed by shifting fabric and a muffled, hollow thump of something heavy being placed on the thin bunk mattress.

You swallowed thickly, your mouth suddenly dry. He had done it. The helmet was off.

The silence that followed was tangible in the air. It felt as though you were both holding your breath, waiting for the other to break it, to acknowledge the monumental step that you had just taken. You may not have fully understood the man’s commitment to his anonymity or to his Creed, but you knew enough to know that you were perhaps one of a handful of people in the galaxy who had ever been in the same room as him with his helmet off, and you were keenly aware that all it would take was a glance over your shoulder, and you would finally, after months of wondering, know what his face looked like.

You were equally aware that doing so would be the height of betrayal, particularly considering that this whole scenario had been your idea. You would never do that to him, no matter how badly the curiosity burned in your gut.

The sound of silverware scraping across the bottom of the ration pack reached your ears then, followed by a soft hum.

“This one isn’t bad,” he said.

His voice was quieter than you had expected, as though he was attempting not to startle you. Your eyes drifted closed at the sound all the same, and you felt goosebumps break out on the back of your neck and down your arms.

Even without the interference of his helmet vocoder, his voice was warm, rich, and deep. You had always found him pleasant to listen to, but with that staticky, mechanical quality gone, it had left in its stead an inviting baritone that was down-right irresistible. Without even bothering to look at what you were grabbing, you scooped a bite of your meal into your mouth to stop yourself from doing something truly foolish, like moaning.

“‘M glad you like it,” you replied around your mouthful of fish. A bit caught in the back of your throat then, and you coughed into your fist as a fierce blush stained your cheeks.

“Are you all right?” Mando asked.

You coughed again but nodded vigorously. “Mm hm. Fine,” you managed, hoarse.

I’m a kriffing idiot, but yeah, I’m fine.

Desperate to direct the attention anywhere but yourself, you asked, “Did I hear you talking to yourself up there?” You gestured vaguely in the direction of the ladder up to the cockpit. Just before he had joined you in the cargo hold, you could have sworn you heard his voice having an extended conversation up there behind a closed blast door.

“No,” he said. You could hear his utensil dragging through his meal once again, and his next statement was delayed as he swallowed another bite. “I was communicating with my Guild agent on Nevarro.”

In that moment, the intrigue and the embarrassment of the last several minutes evaporated, and another heavy silence descended upon the Razor Crest. You glanced off to your left, where the bodies of six quarries hung suspended in time, frozen in an instant between two sheets of carbonite. He had told you weeks ago – he had six additional quarries after he captured you, a total of seven beings to take back to Nevarro to be distributed according to their bounties. You had lost track of how many were left to apprehend, but it seemed that there were…none. This lot was it.

He was finally turning you in. Your time was up.

You sat your meal down on the storage bin in front of you, suddenly losing your appetite.

“Oh,” you eventually uttered. “Guess that makes sense. We’re on our way back now, I suppose?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t discern anything from his voice – whether that fact made him happy or sad or angry. You wondered if perhaps he was indifferent about your inevitable departure. You wondered if the camaraderie, the respect, the…fondness you had developed for him over the last two months had really been one-sided.

You wondered if he would miss you, after he handed you over.

Instead of asking any of these questions, you instead asked, “How far out are we?” How many more days do I have before I have to go back to that place? Back to him?

“Three, four days,” he replied.

“I see.” You paused then, considering. “Before we land, I’ll put together a progress report on all of the upgrade projects I’ve been working on. There’s a few I won’t be able to finish before then… And one or two I didn’t get to start.” You could hear the hint of bitterness in your own voice as you spoke, and you fought to push it down. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t known this day was coming, and something about allowing the Mandalorian see how affected you were by this rankled.

You wanted him to think you stoic, unmoved. Brave, like him.

“If you want to show that report to Peli, she can take it from there. When…when I’m gone,” you added, trailing off a bit at the end.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

You nodded at the wall. “I know. But I want to. I’ve gotten…a little attached, I guess. To the Crest.” You reached over Grogu’s head, still bent over his dinner, and gently patted the nearest bulkhead. “She’s charming, in her own way. I want to make sure you have what you need to keep her performing her best.”

Mando didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. He eventually settled on, “That’s very generous.” His voice was thick with warmth, making him sound sincere and perhaps a touch melancholy. Perhaps he would miss you, after all.

A long silence stretched between you then, and you took the opportunity to bring your now-cold ration pack back up your face, scooping bite after bite into your mouth. You didn’t have a taste for it anymore, but you knew you would wake up in the middle of your sleep later with an angry stomach if you didn’t at least try to finish your portion, so you ate as quickly as you could to get it over with.

Grogu finished at the same time as you, announcing he was done with a small burp and a giggle. The sound broke the tension in the room, and you huffed a breath of laughter of your own as you scooped him into your lap to wipe his mouth with the back of your sleeve. All the while, you were certain you could feel the gaze of the Mandalorian on the nape of your neck.

“I can feel you thinking back there,” you said after a minute. “What is it?”

The bounty hunter sighed, and you could hear him shift to lean back against a bulkhead. He seemed to carefully consider his words before he spoke. “It’s been weeks since I captured you. And other than when I first found you in that cantina, not once have you tried to escape.”

Your eyebrows rose at that. “No, I haven’t,” you agreed.

“Why not?”

You looked down into your lap, occupying yourself with running your fingers through Grogu’s fine, white hair. “That’s a good question,” you admitted softly. “I’ve asked myself the same thing more times than I can count.”

“And?” he prompted.

You contemplated the question, chewing on your lower lip in thought. From the first moment Mando had left you with Peli Motto, you had questioned it. Why you weren’t running, why you weren’t plotting ways to escape, why you didn’t slip out and lose yourself in the crush of Mos Eisley or in the dense forests of Ryloth or in any of the other various places you had docked over the last two months. Now, you had officially run out of time – he was going to turn you in.

So why were you still here?

“I don’t know,” you said out loud.  

Mando made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded something like frustration, like dissatisfaction, at that response. “The girl I chased halfway across a major port city, who broke a whole cantina’s worth of liquor bottles over my head, who laughed at me when my carbonite unit busted would have stopped at nothing to get away. She would have found a way.”

His tone was accusatory, meant to inflame, but you couldn’t seem to muster any irritation in the face of the truth.

“Yes. You’re right.” You didn’t even try to deny it.

“What changed?” he demanded, and you scoffed humorlessly.

“I wish I could tell you,” you said with a shrug. “I definitely thought about it. Several times when we were on Tatooine. A few times when you were out on a hunt. But…I guess I always came up with a reason not to.”

“Such as?”

“At first?” You shrugged and stared at the rear blast doors. “I think…I didn’t want you to get angry at Peli. I liked her, and at the time, I didn’t trust you not to take it out on her if I got away on her watch.” You thought you heard something close to a chuckle at that, but you continued. “And then it was the Razor Crest. I haven’t had the opportunity to get my hands on pre-Empire technology in years, and it’s been even longer since I’ve been able to do restoration work. It was more rewarding than I expected.”

“Restoration work?” Mando echoed, incredulous.

You smirked in spite of yourself. “Hey. This thing has got to be well over 30 years old by now. That makes it vintage. Repairs on vintage starships are considered restoration. That’s just how it works.”

The bounty hunter sighed loudly, and you swore you heard him running his gloved hands over his face in exasperation. “‘Vintage,’ she says,” he muttered under his breath. “Not kriffing ‘vintage.’ We’ll come back to that.”

Laughter bubbled up in your chest, and you allowed it to spill over, permitting yourself the moment of good humor. “Sure, Mando. Whatever you say.”

You sobered up a bit then before continuing, “But most of the time, when I thought about running, it was Grogu that stopped me.” You looked down at the bundle of brown robes in your arms and found that the tiny, bat-eared boy had dozed off, his little cheek resting softly on your thigh. A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “He was just…sweet. Pure. Attached to me.”

“He likes you,” the Mandalorian asserted.

“Yes. If I was going to have any hope of escaping, I would’ve had to have done it when you were away. But even if I managed it, then what would happen to him?” You hated to even consider it. You couldn’t bear the idea of abandoning the kid. “You trusted me to care for him. I couldn’t just leave him on his own like that.”

“There are others that would have. Without a second thought.”

The certainty with which Mando spoke sent a chill down your spine, and not for the first time, you wondered what trials the child and his caretaker had been put through before they met you. The latter seemed convinced that there were many in the galaxy who would wish harm upon Grogu, and even after months in his company, the thought still did not compute with you. Still, you supposed you could see how an average quarry might be willing to sacrifice the well-being of a child to save their own skin.

“I’m sure you’re right,” you said.

The bounty hunter hesitated for a moment then, and instead of a reply, you heard another airy hiss followed by the truncated sound of a seal activating, and you realized that he had put his helmet back on. Heavy footfalls echoed off the durasteel deck, and a streak of silver flashed in your periphery as he came to stand before of you, bracing his hands on the storage bin you were perched on.

His shoulders solemn and tense, he met your eyes as best as he was able through his visor, and he said, “The kindness you have shown my foundling will not be forgotten. You have chosen his well-being over your freedom, and you have cared for him better than I could have expected. There is much you do not know about him, much I have kept from you, and that is for a reason, but trust me when I tell you that your selflessness is not for nothing.”

His tone carried a significance you had never heard before, and it squeezed something in your chest, something that made your breath catch. You couldn’t claim to understand what he meant, what he could possibly have been keeping from you about Grogu. All you knew was that whatever it was, it clearly weighed on him, and you felt an inexplicable urge to offer him a measure of comfort, to take some of that burden for yourself. Before you could think better of it, you found yourself reaching out and settling your hand on top of one of his.

The Mandalorian startled at the unexpected touch, but he did not pull away. You could feel the vital warmth of him through the soft, worn leather of his glove. You could feel the breadth of his palm, the length and thickness of his fingers, the strength he carried there. Your pulse quickened at the sensation, and you allowed yourself to continue to stare into his visor, willing him to see that his revelation didn’t scare you.

“And I would do it all over again,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper.

Mando inclined his head at you, his shoulders seeming to lose a bit of their rigidity. “This is the Way.”

[victusinveritas]

Writing advice from Nick Mamatas.

Some science fiction/fantasy creative writing students I have encountered, a field guide

1. World-Savers: these are generally older students, have no real interest in SF/F, are writing a book to express political or metaphysical ideas they consider to be radical and necessary for the future of life on Earth. In reality, they're writing long Platonic dialogues about their ideas, and authority from various culture and pop culture tropes (aliens, noble savages, fairies, resurrected presidents)–to the extent that their work has a plot at all, it involves a Christ figure transforming the world via a sacrifice. The ideas aren't very radical either: "pollute less" and "love your neighbor, unless they're a dick" are common. Occasionally the message for the world has to do with something more prosaic: reverse budgeting, the evils of Affirmative Action, the importance of installing solar panels, how dare Eileen divorce me and fuck like three guys in the six months after she moved out, etc. These students are utterly confused by actually existing SF/F stories they read, and often interpret them in bizarrely sexual ways. They don't believe in numbering the pages of their manuscripts, and often attempt to submit work in PDF so it won't be stolen.

2. Children with Money: recent college grads, or drop-outs, these people have read Harry Potter, Twilight, and perhaps three or four other best-selling young adult series and nothing else. They are easily upset, especially when someone suggests reading more. Their main interests are YouTube personalities, video games, and a sort of Puritanical pansexuality that actually makes smut boring. They often "forget" to read the work of other students, and have no idea how to use a printer. They warn the other students that their story might be "too intense" because it contains, for example, a depiction of a car accident. Their stories are routinely awful, and always contain a character named "Aidan." Sometimes their parents come to class to make sure I am "not a serial killer", as though they could possibly tell from looking at me. (Oh, "Mamatas" IS a white person name...I guess?)

3. Anointed Ones: They contact me, or the people running the workshop, beforehand, to make sure that "the class is right" for them. They have file cabinets full of their stuff, and after many decades of toil, they are ready to reveal their work to the world. They just need a mentor, and an ally—could I be the one they've been searching for lo these many years? Prior workshops were full of callow teachers and jealous students. Why they were only allowed to submit ten pages a week! Some of them have actually read fairly widely, but you wouldn't know it from their work: three adjectives per noun, a fetish for speech tags other than the word "said" or no tags at all. Often these stories include as characters philosophical prostitutes with very sensitive nipples. They never miss a class and often show up more than thirty minutes early. One time, I had to hide in a closet to avoid an extensive pre-class conversation with one.

4. Frightened Proles: These have read Stephen King and Dean Koontz and sometimes even horror writers from this century. They generally have working-class jobs and write about working people who encounter the supernatural on the late shift. They really hope they can sell their novel soon, but they know it'll take a lot of work. (Ten more drafts oughta do it!) They wear baseball hats to class and look like enormous eight-year-olds. They get very excited when I mention professional wrestling or do a taiji move in class. Their significant others are often nameless—"my girlfriend" "my wife." They buy my books and bring them to class for autographs. Some of them get published after, especially flash fiction.

5. Repairables: decent writers, often involved in the SFF "scene", who need to be fixed after a bad experience with Clarion or another workshop or an overeager editor at a semipro magazine who told them some idiot nonsense they decided to believe because they were told it was "unprofessional" not to consider editorial feedback. These either get published...or lost to MFA programs, video game jobs, fandom, podcasts, or other writing-shaped pursuits. Most of them are ferocious name-droppers; the ones who heard of me beforehand know to keep quiet though.

[wazzappp]

@rokhal okay so you see heres the problem. You asked too many good questions so I opened a google doc to answer them and then things just got going and then I ended up with an entire summary of the story I have so far.

ALSO thank you @moosemonstrous for helping me puzzle through my fugnking ramblings

Also it is IMPORTANT that you know I had this song on repeat the entire time I was plotting my nefarious schemes

OKAY SO. I’m thinking Robbie is some sort of specialized stealth unit. He was originally designed for high level infiltration but was repurposed by the human resistance in the future. He has skin with a metal endoskeleton just like the usual terminators but he ALSO has those nanobots that allow him to heal at the same pace as a normal human. They also would help with repairing any damage to internal systems like wiring. They could also be what repurposes food to grow his metal endoskeleton. I’m debating on whether he can manually speed that up for an accelerated healing process because that would require a level of control over his machinery that I’m not sure it would make sense for him to have right after figuring out he’s a machine. Maybe with some practice he could do it. OHHHHH OR IF HES IN SOME SORT OF ‘EMERGENCY DEFENSE’ MODE IT ACCELERATES AUTOMATICALLY THAT COULD BE FUN!!! 

Also I really like the idea of him being able to heal with those nanobots but like. SPECIFICALLY for Gabe. They’re programmed to create synthetic flesh and skin but only for certain genomes. His and Gabes are similar enough that they can help repair tissue if he’s injured. Like being a blood donor for matching blood types.

STORY WISE HERE’S WHAT IM THINKING: Eli still exists in this universe and he’s still a massive shithead. Still pushes Mama Reyes down a flight of stairs while pregnant with Gabe (their soon to be first child), still a serial killer and still involved with the mob. But shortly after Gabe is born, Eli is caught and sentenced to prison for life. The mob figures he told his brother’s family so that makes them a liability. They kill Alberto and Julianna, but leave Gabe alone in his crib. This happens when he’s about 6 months old.

While this is happening, Robbie is time traveled into the back yard of their house. He goes inside and puts on whatever clothes he can find. When police show up to check after getting a noise complaint from the neighbors, they find what looks to be a 5 year old boy soothing a crying baby and a massive burned hole in the backyard they think is just some sort of already detonated explosive. Everyone just assumes this kid is his brother and they try to get him out of the house without letting him see his dead ‘parents’. He doesn't talk much but does answer that his name is Robbie when asked. 

Things get REALLY weird when they go to the police station and find… absolutely nothing about him. No birth certificate, no social security number, no history of schooling, not even their notoriously nosy neighbors know anything about him. The Reyes’s had not marked down a dependent on their tax forms until Gabe.  Even when they look at the possibility of him being an undocumented immigrant; NOTHING. Half the guys think he’s an illegal alien that slipped through the cracks of.. EVERY country and the other half think he’s an ACTUAL alien For all intents and purposes the kid in front of them does not exist. Eli isn’t much help when asked, he just assumes ‘that bitch of his turned him against me didn’t even tell me that I had a nephew already here god DAMN her’. 

They quickly start questioning whether they're actually brothers, but genetic tests determine that they are. That, and the absolute INSISTENCE of the boy that ‘This is my brother. I HAVE to keep him safe’.

So they do what just about anyone might do. Decide this weird magically appearing child is someone else’s problem, and put them into foster care. From there the story stays about the same for a while. They know Eli exists but they honestly couldn't give less of a shit about him. That guy is never getting out on parole lmao. Robbie catches up with social development and for the most part fits in pretty good (he never gets sick. Like ever. Never gets so injured he has to go to the doctor for emergencies. Just regular checkups, which he passes through with a few raised eyebrows but still good). He’s still a GENIUS with cars and works at Canelos. He understands them in a way that usually takes years of experience way beyond what Robbie has. Things are going.. Not GREAT but they’re okay. And then AMADEUS FUCKIGN SHOWS UP.

Skynet of the future has sent back a Terminator to kill Gabe. No one is really sure WHY but they figure if skynet is going to such lengths to kill this kid then he must be worth protecting. So the human resistance sends back Amadeus to find Gabe and keep him safe from this Terminator. 

He steals some clothes, a gun and a car(not like hes really planning on settling down here anyway who cares about a few broken laws)  shows up at the Reyes residence, meets Gabe.. and basically all his plans blow up. This is absolutely NOT the type of person he was expecting and he sure as shit doesn't want to go anywhere with this random stranger. So naturally he kidnaps Gabe and starts getting the fuck out of the city (while also starting work on an electromagnetic field reader that he thinks can help detect terminators).

Robbie shows up back home after grocery shopping and uhhhhh Gabes NOT THERE theres BROKEN SHIT IN HIS HOUSE and the neighbors keep talking about a STOLEN CAR and some maniac who stole from a GUN SHOP. So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of, checks Life 360 hoping that Gabe still has his phone on him (he does) gets into his car and starts hunting them down. Between his crazy driving skills and freakish persistence, Amadeus can only conclude that Robbie is the terminator sent to kill Gabe.

When Robbie finally heads them off at an abandoned warehouse Amadeus tries to pull Gabe along with him and run away. But when Robbie steps out of his car, Gabe recognizes him and starts trying to get there. Amadeus is panicked, pointing his gun at Robbie to try and keep him away and, at this point, VERY confused. Because he’s pulled out his EMF reader and is getting some absolutely WACK readings off Robbie but hes also very much so being deterred by the gun (terminators couldnt gibe two shits about guns thlse metal fuckheads eat bullets for breakfast). The readings shortly get even more wack when the ACTUAL Terminator sent to kill Gabe shows up. Amadeus fires a couple of shots into the Terminator to confirm what he already knew (subsequently freaking both Robbie and Gabe out sufficiently enough to confirm that at least Amadeus isn’t entirely crazy). They pile into the Reyes-mobile and peel off shortly before the terminator gets into Amadeus’ abandoned stolen car and starts going after them.

Robbie is doing his best to ask what the FUCK is actually going on while getting away but Amadeus is still double checking his EMF readings because Robbie is DEFINETLY not human but also clearly isn’t here to kill Gabe. Quickly puts two and two together that for SOME reason SOMEhow Robbie is here to PROTECT Gabe from this other Terminator. Amadeus is. A little distracted because of this and keeps asking Robbie about his ‘Programming’ (sort of a “WOW your programming must be good you REALLY think he’s your brother and thats WHY you have to protect him!” “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHO WAS THAT GUY HOW DID HE KEEP WALKING AFTER YOU SHOT HIM” “It was a terminator keep up. Hey did you even TRY to call the police or did you just start coming after me because you knew it would be faster? Cause damnnnnn again. PROGRAMMING!”)

After finally losing the terminator that’s been on their tail, they find the police are not too happy about their reckless driving, arrest them and take them to the station to keep in a holding cell. While Robbie is in said holding cell with Amadeus (Gabe is presently being asked questions) there’s a police officer who recognizes him as that weird little kid who just appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah we had absolutely NOTHING on you. It was like you hadn't existed until the day we found you!” So Robbie has to sit and listen to this while Amadeus is just confirming in his head what he already figured out. Being stuck in that cell trying to stay in denial with the guy whose favorite thing to say in the world is ‘I Told You So’ is not great. (un)Fortunately this is when the actual terminator shows up again.

This time, being faced with both the Terminator AND police trying to stop him from leaving, Robbies defense systems activate. He goes absolutely HAM on everyone in his way. He’s extremely default Terminator-like (Emotionless, distant, empty, quiet) in this state because all of his infiltration protocols have been halted. He even manages to fight off the other terminator decently well, but not before getting blasted in the arm with a shotgun shell. It goes deep enough that his metal endoskeleton is revealed. I also had this idea of like. His arm getting caught in something and he just stares at whoever trapped it there. Looks them dead in the eyes as he degloves his entire hand then beats the shit out of whoever got in his way with his metal fist. He stays in this state until they steal ANOTHER car, and he finally snaps out of it. And sees his hands covered in blood. And glimmers of his metal skeleton. And his brother looking at him in fear.

AND THATS WHAT IVE GOT RN I CAN'T WRITE LIKE YALL CAN I DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR IT I HAVE TO GET ALL OF THIS OUT LIKE RIGHT NOW SO YEAH UHHHHHHH ENJOY

[cheekyowldraws]

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Main plot: Murdock, Friede Minor part: Rockruff, Mollie, Orla, Ludlow Mentioned: Katy, Liko, Dot, Roy, Blanca

Ships: FriedexMurdock also called Capncrunchshipping or Airfryshipping

Summary:

The story plays right after the fight against BlackRayquaza and before the Trio offically start their training at the Orange academy.

Murdock seems to work in Katys bakery and logically should stay in this town during that time. So I wanted to explore his feelings about being away from everyone, especially Friede and how they spend their last night together before being apart for a while. Lots of emotions, kisses and a little suggestive part at the end <3

Three days have passed since the big fight against BlackRayquaza, were the Brave Asagi got heavely damaged. It is heartbreaking to see their home being in this terrible state, but luckily nobody was injured during this incident and that's the most important thing. The ship can be fixed after all...even if it might take a while until they can go back to what they are used to...until the ship is filled with chaos and laughter again instead of silence and working noises. For the time being Liko went back to her parents house and Dot and Roy were able to stay at Blancas place until they can officially start with their Terastal training at the Orange academy. Only the adults stayed at the ship for now, but as soon as Orla officially begins with the repair they gonna have to stay at a hotel to not be in her way.

Murdock was sitting in his room heaving out a big sigh. He was glad that at least the kids could stay at a more positive environment right now. Seeing the damaged ship everyday just would make them relive this scary experience over and over again. Or that what he is believing anyways, knowing that he himslef is still struggeling with getting that disaster out of his head. He kept a brave face in front of the children, but in reality the cook was as scared as them, not knowing what happens next. Can the ship really be fixed completely? What are they gonna do if it's not possible? Will this the be end end of the RVTs? The cook couldn't help himself but worrying about these questions. Friede seems more faithful then him or at least knows how to overplay such thoughts. "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!" Murdock scolded himself while he slapped his own hands against his cheeks, squeezing them with a slight agression. "You are not a child anymore, so don't act like one!" Murdock remaind in this position for a while before he loosened his grip, letting out another deep sigh.

The chef inhaled and exhaled sharly several times to calm his nerves. There is no time to feel scared. He knows exactly what he has to do. In fact everyone knew repairing the ship wont be an easy task and will keep Orla busy. But for the mechanic to even being able to start with this endeavor, she needs materials and that in turn means they need money. Lots of money. So Murdock already decided what he personally can do to help. After all working hard is something he can do best.

A small smile formed on his lips while he looked at his phone. Only yesterday he mailed an application adressed to Katy's bakery in Cortondo, hopeing she gonna accept him and allow the pastry chef to work there until the ship is as good as new. To Murdocks surprise she personally called him back this moring to tell him he's hired. Needless to say that the chef almost dropped his phone, because he was so nervouse and honestly didn't expect such a fast answer, let alone a positive one. And on top of that he was told he can already start working in five days. Though the cook needs to leave a day earlier to get the keys for the small room he rented near the bakery, right after this hopeful phonecall earlier.

His smile fastly shifted to a more sad one. Working there means he need to leave for a while and live in that town...thinking about that fact alone made him feel wistful. Murdock don't even wanna think about getting seperated from everyone for an extended period of time that he cannot yet grasp. Especially being apart from Friede fills his thoughts with horror. Having him around all the time feels so natural and became part of his daily life. Being able to go to the other man whenever he wants, just to hang out or when he feels overwhelmed or just needs a safe place. Simply just having him by his side, to feel his touch, his warmth. Before Murdock completly got comsumed by his fear he felt something cautiously licking his hand. The cook was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't noticed his puppy climbed on his lap. Rockruff knew somethings was wrong and visible was worried about it's dad. "Sorry I didn't wanted to worry you." Murdock automatically wore a soft smile and gently patted his puppies head before he lifted it up to pepper it with kisses. Cuddeling with his little angel certainly helped to ground him and let him tackle this decision rationally. The chef knew that he had to tell Friede at some point, but he also didn't want his boyfriend to start brooding about this and having to go through all those feelings for days now as a result just like him...one suffering is enough. Murdock settled to only tell Mollie, Orla and Ludlow about his plans for now.

As expected the two woman appreciated his plans but side-eyed him when he pleaded them to not say a word to Friede about that. Nointhenless they gladly did respect his wish who he was very thankfull for. From this point on Murdock tried to tell Friede as well several times. When they were shopping together, when Friede was keeping him company while cooking, when they went for a walk...he tried to tell him...he really tried but everytime he chickened out the last second and brushed it off, finding a silly excuse for his strange behaviour. There was no way that the professor didn't started to get sceptical.

And before Murdock knew it the day before his departure had arrived. It already was dinner time to be exact. The chef was spending most of the day in the kitchen to make everyones fave meals. He just had too, because he doesn't know when he will be able to cook for them again. Murdock could feel tears filling up his eyes, but hastely blinked them away, before he served it all up. "Hope you all are hungry, because I made plenty!" the chef voiced with a bright smile while watching everyone slowly gathering around the table.

"That smells great!" Friede took in the scent a bit more before sitting down and filling up his plate. Orla and Mollie digged into the food as well. Ludlow on the other hand just silently watched the scene for now, sipping his tea, observing, already knowing something gonna happen. And he didn't have to wait long. "So delicious! I gonna miss Murdocks food!" Orla spouted out, mouth full. "ORLA!" Mollie promptly scolded her, but the brown-haired woman didn't realized what she just said. Murdock on the other hand froze in place, wanting to run away. "Please don't let Friede have heard that!" the cook was pleading in his mind. But the white-haired man DID hear and now looked at Orla with a very confused look on his face, swallowing down his food before asking "Hmm? What do you mean you gonna miss his food?" Realisation hit Orlas brain like a thunder bolt. She didn't meant to say that and tried to hastly come up with an excuse. "Ah that...well I mean when we start staying at the hotel he won't be able to cook there right?" Orla cleared up while slightly laughing awkwardly. "Right Murdock?" she then added hoping he gonna help covering her white lie but to everyones surprise his seat was empty. The tall man must have taken the oppertunity to leave while all eyes were on the mechanic. Friede felt like a fool and was visably confused. The professor hated when he didn't know what was happening and didn't realized how his face got very serious. "What is this all about?" he now asked with a slighty annoyed sound in his voice. The damage was already done so there was no reason to keep up this farce. "We promised Murdock to not tell you, I don't know why he asked for that though, so it might be better to ask him yourself." Mollie finally explained. The conference room was now overshadowed by a negative vibe.

"Listen to the wind, it talks. Listen to the silence, it speaks. Listen to your heart, it knows." Ludlow spoke with a calm and encouraging voice, breaking the uncomforteable silence that had settle over the group. Friede stared at his gramps for a moment before his eyes wandered back to his plate of food. His face slowly shifted into a sad but also concerened and betrayed expression. What did Murdock felt comforteable enough to tell literally everyone but him? He needed to know but...if he haven't told him yet why should he tell him now? Friede suddenly started to heavily shake his head, trying to get rid of those unwanted thoughts. With his eyes now filled with determination, the professor promptly finished his fill and then headed to the kitchen, were he was sure to find his 'target'. Ludlow was smiling as he saw the young man leaving the room ready to clear things up. When Friede entered the kitchen Murdock was busy washing the dishes not daring to look at the smaller man. The professor didn't knew how to start the conversation, he wants to know what the chef is hiding from him, but he also doesn't want to pressure him either. The white-haired man is certain that the cook must have a reason why he haven't told him yet, so he tries to approach the subject slowly. "That was delicious as always. I'm full!" Friede praised, putting on a smile. It wasn't a fake smile though, he meant what he said. Murdocks food is always the tastiest, still he felt more like crying right now. The taller man was taken abakt by that, because he was sure Friede straight up gonna confront him and ask him questions. "I'm glad to hear that. It means a lot to me. Thank you." the cook looked at Friede for a short moment to return the smile, before focusing at the dishes again. An awkward silence filled the whole kitchen. The only sound left was the suttle cliring of the table ware Murdock kept cleaning.

With every minute passing the chef started to get more nervouse. "That's your last proper chance to tell him you idiot!" Murdock started to scold himself in his thoughts. "COME ONE JUST TELL HIM YOU COWARD!" his thoughts went further and the cook got so angry at himself, that he abruptly stopped in his tracks, starteling Friede a little. Murdock was snapped back to reality by a gently touch on his shoulder. It was Friede who now was giving him a worried but warm glance. The cook took a deep breath and slowly let out the air again.

"I'm gonna leave tomorrow to work at Katy's bakery in Cortondo and wont be back for a while. We need that money or Orla can't fix the ship so it's unavoideable." Murdock started to explain, pausing for a moment to inhale deeply before continuing. "I wanted to tell you earlier, but the more I tried the more I couldn't bring myself too..." his voice now started to tremble "If..." he had to clear his throat before being able to continue. "If I had told you four days ago, you surley couldn't have helped but brood about me leaving all these days...and I didn't want you to go through the same thoughts that kept haunting me over and over again...I gonna miss you ya know?" the cook couldn't hold his tears back anymore and started to sob bitterly. "I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you until now I'm..." before he could speak any further he was pulled into a tight hug, while a hand gently caressed his back. "You idiot..." the small man said with a shaky voice himself. "You choose to keep all this feelings to yourself because you didn't wanted to make me suffer but..." Friede now had teary eyes as well "But imagine how you must have felt all those days, being all alone with those thoughts...that's what breaks my heart!"

"I'm so sorry...i didn't mean to hurt your feelings...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." Murdock's voice softened as he continued to apologize, hugging Friede even tighter, but gentle enough so the smaller man could still breath properly. "Shhh it's okay I'm not mad at you." The smaller man kept stroking Murdocks back in gentle and firm circles to calm him down. This went on for quite a while until Friede felt that the other mans sobbing eased. He then proceed to sat down Murdock on the small wooden stool, who was busy wiping away his tears and was still softly sobbing.

"I want to apologize myself...No I need to apologize to you!" the white-haird man stated while he rubbed the back of his head. Murdock just looked at him with wide eyes, waiting for Friede to continue. "The words gramps said to me before had me thinking. I mean you did act a bit strange all of a sudden, but I refused to question it any further believing you surley gonna tell me if somethings the matter and..." "So you did notice..." Murdocks eyes wandered to the side in embarressment. Friede had to giggle at that sight. "Are you kidding me? When we went for a walk yesterday you literally kept staring at me with such an intense look , that you ended up running into a street lamp!" Friede now started to chuckle. "You should have seen your face!" and with that he bursted out into laughter. "STOP LAUGHING THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" Murdock tried to complain, but the moment he saw Friedes genuin smile while laughing like crazy he couldn't help himslef but join, laughing away all their worries. A few minutes passed and they now were sitting on the floor, right next to each other, tummies still hurting from their laughing fit. "Guess we are both idiots!" the cook stated while beaming a smile at Friede who returned the favour agreeing with a cheerfull "Yeah!"

And without a warning Friede was leaning in for a passionate kiss, making the tall man shudder in surprise. As soon as their lips touched Murdock literally melted into this sensation. The cook gently layed his hands around the other mans arms to pull him even closer. Both of them let themselve fully taken in by this moment, there hearts are pounding in synch, hoping this pleasent feeling would never fade. They tried to delay the unavoideable, but unfortunatly they had to break the kiss at some point to breath again. Now staring into each others eyes with such warmth.

"Soooo we can either have some fun now or just cuddle all night." Friede now looked at Murdock with playful eyes and a cheeky smile. The cook just looked at him with wide eyes, cheeks still rosy. He tightened his grip a little, his eyes nervousely flickering back and forth from looking into Friedes eyes to staring into the void. Friede just amusingly watched his future husband getting all flustered, while waiting for an answer. "Wh-Why not both?" the cook finally managed to declare, taking the professor by surprise, not that he is complaining though. He kinda was hoping for that outcome, because he wants both of them to enjoy this night to the fullest. "Never thought you can get greedy." the smaller man sassily returned, while purposly coming closer to Murdock's face who then started to pout a little "So what if I'm a little greedy?" the chef playfully growled back. "Nothing wrong with that." Friede assured while trying to kiss Murdock again. The emphasis is on 'trying' because his attempt got stopped by a big hand gently pressing against his lips. "W-Wait! N-not here!! Besides I need to clean the kitchen first and..." the cook got cut off mid-sentence by Friedes lips sealing his once again. It was only a short lived kiss this time meant to stop Murdock from blabbering nonsens. Friede now was looking into Murdocks eyes dead serious. "As if I would let you do the chores right now, the dishes won't run away, I gonna deal with them tomorrow." the yellow-eyed man explained. "But...!" Murdock tried to argue, but this time it was Friede pressing his hand against the cooks lips. "No buts! I already let the others know so don't worry!" the professor replied with a snippish grin while holding up his phone to show Murdock that he in fact send a message.

»Just put your dishes in the kitchen later. I'll deal with them tomorrow. I have to take care of Murdock tonight <3«

"T-Taking ca-care of me?" Murdocks cheeks turned into an even more intense pink admitting his defeat "G-Guess I have no choice then!" he stutterd softly. Pleased to hear that, Friede then purposely placed his hand on Murdocks crotch, making the cook jump at the sudden touch. His whole head turned into a bright red now and before the professor could make his next move he got lifted up by Murdock, bridal style. The cook now was dashing into his room, while gently carrying the smaller man in his arms, locking the door behind him before he allowed himself to be all over Friede.

At the same time in the kitchen:

"Guess we better sleep with our ear plugs in tonight." Mollie said after she read Friede's message while looking at Orla, who visibly was relieved about this outcome. With their minds at peace the two woman continued eating. Ludlow did join them as well now and was seemingly happy.

The next morning:

Friede and Murdock layed in bed cuddeling together. The smaller man was resting his head againsts the cooks chest, while the taller man wrapped his arms around him. Both were snoozing softly, enjoying this harmonic atmospehere until Murdocks alarm rang. The chef turned it off as fast as he could so Friede not gonna get waken up from it. He had to blink his eyes open several times before his vision was clear and he could see Friedes peaceful face, thankfully still sleeping. The cook decided it won't hurt to stay in bed for five more minutes, before he cautiously climbed out to not wake up the other man. He didn't want too, but he needed to leave soon so he had to dress up and get ready. When he came back from the bathroom he found Friede right were he left him and couldn't hold back a smile. He looked cute when he was peacefully sleeping. Murdock than hastly pulled out his phone to snap a shot he can look at whenever he misses Friede. Not that he already has a full album full of that. Happy with the result he now was thinking about waking the professor up to properly say goodbye for now. But wouldn't that be selfish? To tear him from his sleep just to catch another kiss? As Murdock was mostly silently debating with himself to either wake up the other man or not he suddenly got hugged from behind. The smaller man tightly wrapped his arms around him. "Good morning!" Friede muttered while letting out a big yawn. "G-Good Morning Friede. Did I wake you up?" the cook replied. "Nah I was already awake before you climed out of bed, but I wanted to let you get ready in peace." The white-haired man explained while he released the hug trying to catch a glimpse of Murdock's cell phone "Sooo did you get a nice shot?" Friede asked with a cheeky voice resulting in a high pitched scream leaving the cooks mouth, while the latter tried to hide his phone. But that just made Friede even more curious, now wearing a big grin on his face "I know you made a photo of me while I was supposetly asleep." Murdock was now trying to hide his blushing face behind his phone. "M-Ma-Maybe!" he managed to stutter out. "Good thing I also got a cute shot from you." the smaller man joyfully chirped. A small chuckle left the professors mouth when he saw the chef getting all flustered. Friede then took his chance to pull his boyfriend into a kiss, which immediately made the bigger man calmer. Both closed their eyes and enjoyed this delicate moment. Taking in every second, burning this feeling into their brains. They whined a little when they had to part, but they knew it was now time for Murdock to go. " Don't overwork yourself okay?" Friede wanted to make sure and with a "Don't be too reckless okay?" and a warm smile Murdock then left for his new temporary job.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 12

I apologize for the rather abrupt ending of the last record, as circumstances became rather frantic after the recorded incidents. I will apply my best efforts to summarize the following events shortly. After the human volunteered to perform the repair of the damaged outer hover engine, a rather heated discussion broke loose, concerning the risks and other possible solutions to the current situation. The Vitrichl decided that the human should perform the repair, as long as it was proved that her chance of survival was high enough. Several tests were performed, and all of them concluded that the human had a surprisingly good chance at surviving the excursion, although it was unclear whether she would return unharmed, as there was simply not enough information known about Terrans.

The Vitrichl ordered for a group of personally selected mechanics and scientists of the crew to supervise the excursion over the video recording of the space suit the human would be wearing. I was assigned as a part of this group. The human itself, inexplicably, remained incredibly calm, seemingly not grasping the gravity of the situation at hand. Despite my best efforts to make her aware of the responsibility she was assigned, she remained unresponsive. "I am applying my best efforts to make you aware of the risk you are taking.", I stated, trailing after her. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I read the safety thingy, like, three times. And basically the entire board team will be there to guide me through the entire process and tell me exactly what to do. I'll basically not even have to think myself." "I would appreciate it if you did not neglect your thought process during such an important task." "Of course I won't actually stop thinking, it's just a way of speaking. Anyway, you'll have the entire video footage from my suit and as long as the suit remains intact, I should be fine.", Quinn continued. "Still, the probability that the system fails and you do not return…" "Is low enough.", Quinn cut me off.

"Listen, you oughta stop worrying. I might know nothing about alien technology, but this crew knows about it. And, to our luck, I'll have direct contact to them the entire time." She stepped into her assorted suit, machines around her closing and tying everything into place. Eventually, a helmet was lowered onto her head, the reflective surface hiding her face. She extended her right arm, lowering all her fingers except for the first and biggest one, which she pointed upwards. I could not decipher the purpose of this gesture, and as I could not see her facial expression, I was not able put any of my previous knowledge of humans to use.

The human underwent several further safety checks, before the medicals decided it would be appropriate to start the mission at that time. The task of the human was first to simply observe the entire damage, in order to confirm that our monitors grasped the entire extent of the damage. Furthermore, she should, under our supervision and precise instructions, reverse the worst damage she could and, at best, reverse the engine into a working state. The human was transferred into the duct from where all outerboard missions that did not require any larger equipment where started. As soon as the door opened and the human stepped into the void, medicals and scientists scrambled to examine her vitals. "Vitals are steady", a medical informed. Wrin pressed several keys on the control board, establishing the communication line between Quinn's suit and the SIIR Noxos. "Okay, Quinn, how do you feel?", Wrin, who was, for their standards, surprisingly sober, spoke into the communication tool. "Well, I feel like I've just drank a shit ton of water and then gone onto a roller coaster one too many times. Besides that, wow", Quinn's voice sounded from the other end. "Alright, I'm just going to pretend I understood any of that. So, give us a bit to get the suit camera sorted and then you can go on.", Wrin drawled, pressing a few more keys on one of the monitors. As the technicians confirmed a stable signal, Wrin began to guide Quinn into the direction of the damaged engine.

The human's vitals remained stable as she approached the engine in question. As instructed, the human began a scan of the area through her suit, linking the results directly into the main control quarters. Through the analyzation of the information, the technicians were able to confirm that there was no worse damage than our previous scans had recorded.

The human began to work on the engine. She removed the outer layer of metal within a few moments, which was almost fully demolished. As she worked towards middle of the structure, I observed her every step. She moved coordinated and careful, as if frightened that the engine might implode if she didn't (which was, admittedly, a rather real threath). Eventually, she removed a piece of charred metal, exposing an accumulation of cables. Wrin straightened as I took the communication tool from them and spoke into it: "Quinn, these cables are of high importance. Would you be able to reach the brown cable and remove it from its place? As careful as possible.", I added. Despite my, in my eyes, rather clear instructions, the human continued to reach towards a completely wrong cable. "Human", I interjected. "I do not mean to be insensitive, but that is not the cable I was referring to." "Huh? But that one's brown?", the human responded, tone signaling possible confusion, although I could not be sure, as her face was still hidden. "Human-", I started once again, thinking of the most polite way to phrase the following statement, but I could not finish, as Wrin pushed me away rather aggressively before taking the communication tool themselves. "Quinn, the mechanic‘s referring to the second cable from the far right.", Wrin eludicated. "…but that one's Magenta!", Quinn protested further. "Not to the mechanic. Different eyes, different colour perception.", Wrin quipped. Quinn said something indiscernably quiet, before continuing, carefully following Wrin's instructions. As these records' purpose is to observe human behaviour, I will not go into much detail describing the repair. If you wish to obtain more precise information about the details of this particular repair, I suggest you visit the archives, in which we keep all records of repairs, routine check-ups and everything else regarding the state of the ship, to gain a further insight.

The human proceeded the repair, although another thing of note happened rather towards the end: After the human had reconnected several wires and added a new protective layer on the engine's surface, the technicians tested whether or not the engine would start, obviously after the human had moved to a safe distance. The technicians started the engine at its highest setting, but with no success. No sound emitted from the engine. "Wait, let me try something.", the human sounded over the communication line. In spite of any common sense, the human moved closer towards the engine. The human inspected the engine, before suddenly, for some to me inexplicable reason, hitting the engine repeatedly with the flatter side of her hand. "Alright, try again." "Human Quinn, it is imperative that you move out of the immediate proximity of the engine.", I stated, but the human refused. "No, I wanna try something." "Human, it is-" "On one, come on, guys.", Quinn cut me off. "Start the engine on one." Against better judgement, the technicians began to prepare another start of the engine. "Okay, ready? Three, two, one, go!", besides my best efforts to stop them, the technicians started the engine at the exact time as Quinn hit its outer layer again. Fortunately, the engine did start. Unfortunately, the stuttering start of the engine produced a pressure wave that catapulted the Terran away from it. Eventually, her body was stopped by the cable attached to form a connection between the space suit that the human was wearing, and the SIIR Noxos. The body of the human did not move. Wrin, seemingly concerned, spoke into the communication line. "Quinn?" It took a few moments before we received any kind of answer, the silence filled with a slight buzzing sound. Then we registered the human's voice over the line. At first, the human only produced several sounds, possibly signaling pain. Then: "Well, I'm never doing that again." A pause. "Did it work? Is the engine stable?" "The engine is running. I wouldn't call it stable, but it will get us far enough.", one of the technicians informed.

Silence.

"Alright, Quinn, we‘re going to pull you back into the ship. Try not to move too much and uh…don‘t die.", Wrin spoke up.

"I can do that."

As the retraction program was started, I, accompanied by Wrin proceeded towards the intertravel duct. The human arrived shortly afterwards.

The suit seemed to be unharmed, a good sign, but its owner did not.

As a robotic arm removed the helmet and started to disassemble the suit, the human stumbled out. Stumbling, that was not a good sign. The human’s complexion was even paler than its naturally bright shade. And the skin of her face seemed to have a slight green undertone. Had it always been there? I could not recall. Perhaps their skin changed colours, similar to Wrin‘s species?

I was brought away from these suspicions, as the human opened her mouth and released a brown-green, odd-smelling fluid out of her mouth and onto the floor. This couldn‘t be normal, could it?

The human was immediately referred into the, for a ship and crew this size admittedly rather small, hospital wing. The medicals are currently observing and recording any interesting observations regarding the human‘s body. Unfortunately, while the medicals are treating Quinn to the best of their ability, it is difficult, as there is so little known about humans.

Although, perhaps this way I will receive more information regarding the anatomy of humans.

I will continue to record the recovery and the state of the human.