#sorry that asks go up without tags initially and I hope nobody saw anything they didn't want to

[rubyvroom]

with his hindsight of having brought someone as consumed by evil deeds like Darth Vader back to the light. Does it really make sense that he would not think he could do the same for his nephew? This is the issue most people have. Its not that people can't change but given Luke's experiences, that scene makes no sense except that Rian couldn't think of any other reason to try and shift blame away from Kylo.

I think it makes sense, actually. Forget Rian Johnson for a minute and think about the time that has elapsed since the original trilogy. Bear in mind that I’m not in the fandom and have no desire to be, this is just my uninfluenced read. 

Anyway, take it back to just after ROTJ. Luke watched the Empire slaughter literally millions of people. He watched the Galaxy rebuild from this for decades. His sister’s home planet was destroyed and he probably dealt with her grief over that. His father’s shadow has lingered over the entire galaxy for years and years. A certain subset of people are lionizing his evil deeds and talking about bringing back the empire. They want to literally undo everything Luke and the Rebels originally did and make all of those deaths meaningless. 

When you get older, here’s a couple things that happen. You start thinking about the choices you made when you were young. You start really feeling the losses you have witnessed in your life and wondering if they could have been prevented. You think a lot less about individual heroics and more about how to plan for the future and protect as many people as possible (a big theme of TLJ overall). The purpose of the original rebellion was not to save Darth Vader, it was to overthrow the evil Empire. Yes, Luke made it a personal mission to save his father. He did save him, in the end. But what did that do for all the dead people? What did that do to prevent the empire from coming back? Apparently nothing, because it’s all happening again. Was one soul really worth the death of millions? Even your father’s? Even your own?

Now Luke’s been tasked as the sole custodian of the entire Jedi legacy and surely one of his main goals is to keep these young students from turning to the dark side of the force. And here’s his nephew worshipping Darth Vader. Asking all these questions about him and the empire and was-it-really-so-bad and yada yada. All the while growing immensely powerful and showing every evidence of actually wanting to bring back Vader’s genociding ways. He’s not just an average kid who reads about serial killers or whatever. He’s Darth Vader’s grandson with means, motive, and opportunity. 

We don’t get a lot of specific details about what Ben was doing that alarmed Luke so much, or how long Luke tried to work with him before things came to this point (it could have been years for all we know) but my read is that this is basically a Hitler As A Baby premise. Luke has the opportunity to potentially prevent many, many deaths by stopping an extremely powerful Sith from joining a bunch of Empire wanna-bes. If someone had killed Anakin before he became Darth Vader, how many lives might have been saved? And if Ben Solo went on to kill even one person, isn’t that a death Luke might have prevented, that he would blame himself for if he sat back and did nothing? Now think of the number of people we watched Kylo Ren kill in the movies alone, including his own father. Just hold that in your mind while you think this out.

Whether it’s the right or wrong decision to kill Ben Solo at that point, do I believe that Luke Skywalker would be tempted? Absolutely. To prevent more deaths, to prevent Ben going the way that Anakin did, to stop the Jedi ways from being used as a force for evil in the universe again, he was tempted. It makes sense to me that he would be tempted to do it after what he saw became of his father. You can even think of it as his own Dark Side temptation moment, depending on how you think of the Force and the whole Light/Dark thing.

But Luke passed the temptation. He didn’t do it. He was ashamed of the impulse and if Ben hadn’t woken up and seen him he would have gone on trying to teach the kid and turn him to the light.

(This is why Luke later wants to end the Jedi altogether - because people with access to that kind of power will be tempted to misuse it, the Jedi training doesn’t effectively train people not to misuse that power and if preventative murder is not an option (and it really shouldn’t be) then maybe the Jedi way is not the best way to use the Force.) ****

Now, did Ben Solo pass that same temptation moment? At the same turning point? Because he is totally justified in feeling betrayed there, and would even have been justified in killing Luke in self-defense. But he did a lot more than that. He slaughtered all the other innocent students, burned down the temple, and went on to join the Space Nazis. So fuck him. Luke didn’t force Ben Solo to become Kylo Ren. “Fuck it, I’m gonna be evil” is not not something he can blame on Luke. Every single thing he did from there on out is on him, and he proved to be an evil little shit.

This gets reinforced when we get another turning point for Kylo Ren in the throne room. He could have done a Vader there. The movie fakes us out that this is what he’s doing. He kills the emperor/Snoke and it looks like he’s doing it to save Luke/Rey. This is where the movie could have gone, oh, he just needed somebody to BELIEVE in him because he’s just MISUNDERSTOOD and that will turn him good! But the movie doesn’t do that. He doesn’t then embrace the light. He does the opposite. Vader didn’t try to convince Luke to turn Dark Side and take up the Emperor’s throne and keep going. And Kylo didn’t kill Snoke to save Rey. He wants the throne himself, and he can use Rey’s power to keep it. He tells Rey to rule the galaxy with him as fascist overlords and goes about trying to murder absolutely everyone, including Rey, for the rest of the movie. And Rey thoroughly rejects him, turns her back on him, and shuts the door on him. It’s done. He’s not redeemable, he doesn’t want to be redeemed, he blames his mistakes on everyone else and wants to go on endlessly revenging himself on innocent people because he’s sad or something. He’s a monster. A pathetic monster. He doesn’t get any more heroic shots or moments after that because it’s been proved he doesn’t deserve them. 

I guess where I part ways with your interpretation the most is that I don’t think this movie favors Kylo Ren at all. Rey in the Throne Room scene is doing exactly what Luke originally did - but this time it doesn’t work. And Old!Luke knew that would happen because of the hindsight of his years and because he saw Kylo fail at the Jedi temple. All of the lives and bloodshed he has caused are his own doing, and he needs to be stopped, not saved. If anything, the movie repudiates what Luke originally did, which is what people are *really* mad about, I think, even if they don’t exactly know it. The actual question that nobody’s asking yet is whether Darth Vader was worth saving in the original trilogy if it endangered the rebellion to do it. Much more interesting question imo.

But anyway - to your last point about shifting blame, Luke also gets the last word on this in the movie. Face to face with Kylo Ren, Luke explicitly apologizes for the mistake he made - the moment he was tempted to kill Ben Solo before he had actually done anything evil. That is always treated as a tragic mistake. But he also says, explicitly, that he is not trying to save Kylo Ren, and he rightly does not blame himself for the evil things Kylo has done. The movie ends on this beat, that every single evil choice Kylo made was his own doing, and he needs to be stopped, not saved. Then he doesn’t physically beat Kylo Ren in a lightsaber battle, he uses his Force powers in a way Kylo never imagined doing and could not detect to distract him long enough for the rebels to get away, and also, to humiliate Kylo Ren in front of the entire First Order. He proved he was an immensely more powerful Jedi with greater control over his emotions who doesn’t even have to kill or even physically face his enemy to defeat him. He says he knows Rey will carry on the Jedi legacy and she is stronger than Kylo Ren. The next generation of heroes – Finn, Poe, Rose, and Rey – will use the lessons of the previous generation to defeat the first Order. 

The next movie’s almost pointless after this except we get the pleasure of watching that play out. 

… I did not intend to write so much about The Last Jedi and I think I’ll stop there. I hope that at least explains how someone could plausibly read the opposite intentions out of that scene, when taking the movie as a whole. As an aside, I was also upset when that plot point was raised until I saw how it played out later in the movie, which made me feel differently. The movie doesn’t excuse Kylo or have Rey redeem him with her goodness or whatever like I was afraid it would, it does the opposite. And in the end I thought it humanized Luke a lot for me, although I certainly understand how making him more flawed would upset some fans of the character. But I don’t think it’s an impossible character progression at all.  

**** this little bit is another thing they did in the movie that I loved - Luke’s explanation of the Force implies that maybe it could be open for anyone to use, and the Jedi way of limiting its use to select special people is wrong. This interpretation is supported by the revelation that Rey isn’t descended from Jedis, as well as the little boy at the end of the movie. There isn’t a secret special bloodline that makes the superest force users, maybe this was all a Jedi construct to keep a monopoly on use of the Force as a Jedi thing. Maybe they’re the DeBeers cartel of this universe. This interpretation probably violates fandom lore of some kind and let me reemphasize that I do not care about that at all. 

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Good for him | G.W.

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

requested, based on the song Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson

summary: Maintaining a relationship while going through grieving process becomes too exhausting for Y/N and George so they part ways. But what happens once they both take control of their lives back and meet again?

word count: 2.5k warnings: grief, mentions of death, insecurity, fluffy ending (hope i didn’t miss any warnings, in any case please let me know)

tags: @izzyyy-1 ;  @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke​

 You walked around the flat above the shop, and you thought about the day you helped George and Fred move in. Memories came flooding back to you, you had just graduated Hogwarts, you were all so full of life, looking bright into the future even as the war was tightening its grasp around you. But you couldn’t have expected it to take so much from you.

The door to the flat opened slowly with a creak and you saw a shell of a man walk in. You were standing in the middle of the small entry hall, clutching your bag filled with little things you had left at George’s over the years, things you would now take with you.

He came back after undoubtedly spending the whole afternoon at a pub.

You looked at him and you felt a lump in your throat as tears slowly clouded your vision. You looked at him and once again you wondered if what you were doing was right.

You loved George with all of your heart, loved him more than anything. He had changed your life in so many ways and left his mark on you. And you knew that nobody else could ever love you the same way he did. You were supposed to be each other’s forever, but grief had other plans for you.

After months, you were exhausted. You had tried and tried to help George up after he collapsed along with his brother but it got just too much. You had your own process to go through and you couldn’t do that while pouring all of yourself into a relationship that no longer physically existed. There is a boundary between trying your hardest for love to help someone get better and hitting a wall, trying to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped while losing yourself in the process. You hoped he would move on and find happiness with someone eventually. He was bound to find someone better, someone, to give him more than you could.

At first, he was angry. He felt betrayed. He resented you for leaving him when you were supposed to love him. Looking at him like that hurt you, it almost made you break and take it all back, but you couldn’t. Because love just wasn’t enough to keep you together.

So when his initial shock passed you parted your ways in mutual agreement.

 As time went on you slowly got better and better. You focused on yourself, on your career and in time you felt something that resembled happiness. You felt almost at peace, but it was a start.

Almost a year has passed since your break up, and one late afternoon you got an owl and felt a pang in your heart upon reading the name.

You tried to avoid George in fear of losing all that progress that you’ve made in moving on. But you also felt that he didn’t deserve to just get ignored by you and you were curious about his intentions.

My Y/N,

I probably don’t have the right anymore to call you mine, but it feels wrong otherwise.

I missed you. I hope time has treated you well. I know it helped me heal. I know I’m not fully there yet, I still have a long way to go, but I’ve woken up enough to see how shit life is without you. I don’t expect you to just let me back into your life, but if you would, that would make me the happiest man in the world. I just wish to see you and talk to you.

Please don’t ignore this letter, I beg you. Even if you don’t want to see me ever again, please, don’t leave me hanging, I hate uncertainty. Please, before I let you go, tell me you’re alright.

Yours,

George

And so, with a shaky hand, you wrote back:

George,

You know well what we did was for the best. You should move on and find someone who will truly make you happy and give you all that you deserve. I can’t do that for you.

Y/N

You didn’t get another letter from him.

You tried to push George out of your mind again, always trying to find something to occupy yourself with. Until months later, an owl delivered a beautiful, formal-looking envelope to your windowsill. Hermione and Ron were getting married.

You’d been successfully avoiding all Weasley’s gatherings, even though Molly never failed to invite you. Christmas, Easter, all the birthdays. You knew she saw you as one of her own regardless if you were dating one of her children or not. But until now you didn’t want to take that risk.

However, a wedding was too important, and both Ron and Hermione proved great friends to you in the past. If they invited you, that meant they wanted you there. And part of moving on meant you couldn’t just avoid George forever.

 You had apparated just outside the Burrow. You saw the wedding tent with some people already there, you scanned the crowd, subconsciously looking for him already. You fixed your dress and with your legs a bit shaky, you approached the entrance.

“Y/N! Hi- !” Ginny elongated, walking up to you with her arms spread wide and a huge smile on her face. “Hey, Gin,” you smiled dimly. “It’s so great to see you, it’s been so long..! I’m really glad you came,” she gave you a proper Weasley hug, one full of emotion, showing you how she really missed you. “I know it was probably not easy,” she added a bit quieter, giving you a knowing look. “But anyway, I’ll take that!” she gestured to the gift bag you were holding in your hand, “I’m on gift duty today, thank you-“

“Do I have a seat assigned?” you asked, looking at the rows of seats for guests. And that’s when you saw him, talking to someone by the wedding arch. His back turned to you, but you recognised him by his posture alone. He was wearing a dark navy three-piece suit. One could get really lost looking at this man.

“Yes, yes, Fleur will show you while I put this away. Fleur..!”

You avoided looking in his direction, afraid of catching eye contact. Waiting for the ceremony you thought to yourself you’ll have to meet him sooner or later, but you just didn’t want to be caught looking at him first. You have moved on. He has moved on.

 You glided through the sea of guests with a glass of champagne in hand, some of them headed to the dance floor, some to their tables, just like you. You kept your eyes trained on where you were going, careful not to bump into someone but not looking anyone in the eye.

“Y/N,” called the voice that felt like home. You froze in spot, bracing yourself, then turned in the direction it came from.

“Hi,” he said with the tiniest smile and his eyes filled with uncertainty. He looked a bit better than the last time you saw him. His face seems to have aged a bit during this short time, his cheeks a bit hollow. But he didn’t look as tired, the dark circles under his eyes lightened up a bit. His face was clean-shaven and his hair cut. He looked very handsome.

“Hi, George,” you said the name out loud after so long.

His eyes moved down over your body and back up again, “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely. You shifted on your feet and tightened the grasp on your glass a bit, “Thank you, you look really smart.” He smiled a bit wider. There were a million things he wanted to say at that moment, but he didn’t know which one to lead with. Which one would prompt you to give him your attention and listen to the rest. “May-... may I have a dance..?” he asked quietly, barely audible in all the noise, music playing and people partying. You panicked slightly. You did not feel ready for that. “I… I was just going to sit down for a bit, talk to some other guests. Maybe later,” you blurted out the last part and regretted it almost instantly. There was a bit of a pause between you, George did his best to hide his slight disappointment. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, with a fraction of the glint in the eye that you knew well. With that, he turned around and walked away, just his head visible above the crowd.

Your heart fluttered a bit. This felt like old George.

You did your best to shake that feeling off, then noticed Molly next to one of the tables. You owed her at least a conversation.

Not for a moment has she made you feel guilty about not seeing her all this time. She engulfed you in the biggest hug, showing you just how happy she was to see you. Your spirit lifted instantly, and she hasn’t mentioned your break up and asked about your life, what you did in the meantime. Yet inevitably, the conversation somehow shifted to the topic of Fred’s passing.

“We’ve gotten better, we’re trying as best as we can. That’s what Freddie would’ve wanted,” she said with a wide smile and her eyes a bit watery. “Even Georgie’s getting better,” she nodded, looking at him in the crowd. “Sorry, dear, I promised myself I wouldn’t mention that with you…” she got a bit flustered. “It’s- it’s okay Molly,” you smiled as best as you could. “In this case, I do have to say – it is a shame, dear. You know you’re a Weasley to me but I’d always hoped I’d have you as my daughter.” She rubbed her hand on your shoulder comfortingly, “you were good for him, you know? Even Fred always said that…” You stayed silent, focusing all your might into stopping tears forming in your eyes. “My, I better leave before I make even more of a mess. Do have a nice time tonight, dear,” she gave you one last, warm smile and walked off. Leaving your mind in chaos.

“George..?” you tapped him on the shoulder gently, and even the feeling of his warmth on the tips of your fingers felt tingly. He turned to you right away with a smile that had you weak in the knees, then reached his hand out for you to take and gestured to the dance floor with his eyes.

His touch brought you comfort. He held you just like he always had, as if you picked up right where you left off, right before everything went wrong. George’s touch made you forget about everything around you, and as he led you in dance, you lost yourself. If only he’d lead you outside and into the sunset, without a word, you’d let him.

“You know, I was hoping… If you’d see me today, see how I finally got a hold of myself, pulled myself together, everything would change,” George confessed, his voice strained with emotion. The music slowed down and you were just swaying with it. You looked up at him and he continued. “I mean, why did we end things, Y/N?” he asked desperately.

You looked back down, not able to meet his eyes anymore. He went on before you could answer.

“I was a mess. I was in a dark, dark place, Y/N... I didn’t have enough grip to support you as I should’ve, so instead, I dragged you down with me.” George lifted his head high, looking up at the illuminated ceiling, trying to keep his tears from falling. He didn’t want to fall apart now. “I’m sorry. I know I told you that when we... when you left. But my perspective’s changed, I can see better now and I want to say that again – I'm really, really sorry.” “George, please...” you plead, all your thoughts and doubts from the past coming back to you. “I- I feel so bad... that I couldn’t help you,” you confessed, “it hurt me so much, but I wasn’t enough.” You tried to stifle the sobs, tears streaming down your face now.

George pulled you closer, pulling you flush against him and wrapping his arms tight around you. You tried to find comfort in him, your hands fisting his crisp, white shirt.

“It was not your fault, okay Y/N/N? There was nothing more you could’ve done for me,” he said, resting his cheek on top of your head. “...but it’s behind us now. And not for one moment have I stopped loving you,” he confessed.” “But why...?” you cried, “George, I’ve given you the chance. I let you go so you could move on,” you grasped the shirt tighter, “so you could find someone better... You deserve so much better.” “There is no one better! Give me another chance and I promise, I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how perfect you are for me if that’s what it takes..!” He exclaimed, pulling away a bit to take your face into his hands and look you in the eyes. “Just let me, please.”

All words escaped you the moment you looked into his eyes, holding such sincerity. So you just nodded and smiled weakly, feeling a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

George slowly brought his face closer to yours, leaning in he searched your eyes for any signs of uncertainty until the very last moment when your lips touched. His lips were slightly chapped but so welcoming. When you kissed him back, letting go of his shirt to slide your hands along the soft material to his chest, he brought one of his hands to your waist and used the other to deepen the kiss. The song playing was slowly coming to an end, the singer’s soft voice accompanied by delicate piano melody seemed to set a rhythm to your lips. When it ended, he held your lips together still for a moment, then pulled away.

The breath you took then was the first proper breath in years for you, you breathed George in and felt intoxicated. Your eyes darted between his loving gaze and dazzling smile.

“I love you,” he chuckled, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you back,” you said breathily, wrapping your arms around his body and relaxing into him.

 George kept his promise and did not falter in proving to you how perfect you are.

The summer sun was slowly setting, the light wind pleasantly warm. Your eyes were set on his face, eyes closed and a relaxed smile on his lips, as his head lay in your lap. One of your hands was gently stroking his soft hair, while the other he held in his, on his chest. The sunset left a pinkish-orange hue on everything, making it seem even more magical.

You could stay like this forever, you thought, but Molly stuck her head out the window, motioning for you to come inside for dinner. Right as you were about to nudge George, his stomach grumbled, making you chuckle.

“Ugh, when’s dinner gonna be ready…” he groaned sleepily, opening one of his eyes. “Just now, actually. Come on, love, get up.”

So the two of you got up, going inside, hand in hand. And you were each other’s forever.

[elriel-oblivion]

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

__

Feedback's welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

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[queenofspades6]

More than partners (The Mandalorian x reader)

Sorgan

Chapter 9 of More than partners

Summary: The Mandalorian finally admits his feelings for you.

Warnings: extreme fluff. Jealous reader. And Cara Dune teases reader about her relationship with Mando.

AN: Last week I didn’t have much time to write another chapter so this week I decided to write a long long long chapter! I hope you will enjoy it! And forgive me for not posting this chapter sooner! Enjoy! Feedback is also appreciated! Tell me if you want to be tagged!

———

<Chapter 8 — Chapter 10>

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***

You had landed on Sorgan with Mando and the Child hours ago, and you began to feel worried when the Mandalorian wasn’t going back. You were staying in your cabin in the Razor Crest, the Child sleeping peacefully in your arms while you waited for Mando. Desperately, you tried to stay awake to greet him when he came back, but you felt your eyes closing slowly and you couldn’t fight sleep.

***

“Y/N. Y/N. Wake up. We need to go.”

A familiar hand was on your shoulder, and you supposed the Mandalorian was finally back of his little trip alone.

“Mando. You’re late.”You said, stretching yourself slowly while watching the Child circling around the bounty hunter.

“We have a bounty. We need to go.”He only whispered, not giving you any further explanation.

It was the middle of the night, and you didn’t understand why suddenly the Mandalorian wanted to chase a bounty tonight? Why couldn’t he wait tomorrow morning?

“But… We’re in the middle of the night. It can wait tomorrow.”You claimed, slowly laying back to your couch.

“You wanted me to find a bounty. I have find one.”

Groaning, you stood up, following the Mandalorian outside. The Child followed your steps quickly, as a chick would do with his mother.

You got off the ship quickly, but at your greatest surprise, you didn’t expect anyone else than Mando waiting for you.

A strong woman was talking with the Mandalorian. You took a minute to examine her. She had a lot of tattoos, and one caught your attention particularly. She had a tattoo under her left eye, an obvious sign that she was or had been part of the Rebel Alliance. Instantly, you knew you would like her. It was brave to have such a visible tattoo in the midst of a war, clearly making her an easy target for her enemies.

“Y/N.”You heard Mando say with his modulated voice, finally breaking your thoughts.

“What?”You replied, your eyes still fixed on this mysterious woman.

“Cara Dune was talking to you and-”

“It’s nothing.”The woman named Cara Dune answered a genuine and fierce smile on her face.”Name’s Cara Dune. I suppose you’re Y/N.”

“Hmm. Right. That’s me.”

You smiled awkwardly. You hated when the Mandalorian was treating you like a Child. During the previous days, you clearly were closer to Mando, but suddenly, he was distant. Was it because of this Cara Dune?

You couldn’t be jealous because you decided instantly that you liked Cara. She seemed a good fighter, and you could swear she was or had been part of the same Guild as the Mandalorian.

“Ready to sleep in a pile of straw?”Cara Dune questioned, smirking.

“Always. I need to take care of that tin can there.”You said, still a bit angry with the way Mando has introduced you to Cara.

The Mandalorian was the first to climb into the cart, and then he gestured you to sit next to him. The Child in your arms, you completely ignored Mando and sat close to Cara Dune. You put the Child in the straw of the cart and embraced him with your arms to protect him. It had only been weeks, and yet you cared deeply for the Child as if he was your own. Maybe it was because he looked a bit too much like your old Master, you thought.

Then, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

“She’s tough, I like her.” Cara told the Mandalorian, gesturing to where you were sleeping.

Even though you were supposed to sleep, you couldn’t suppress the smile which was slowly appearing on the corner of your lips. You heard Mando groan, and you gazed at him quickly hoping he wouldn’t notice. He was laying on the straw, the helmet’s visor in your direction. You didn’t know why, but you knew he was silently watching you through his helmet.

You wanted to go to him and sleep on his shoulder with the Child sleeping between the two of you, but you were stubborn and a bit resentful, so you just looked away, trying to sleep without the man you loved..

***

It was morning and you had finally arrive to the farm. Children were laughing and playing in the fields. Seeing them so happy made your heart ache. Jedi or not, you wanted a family.

“I am Omera. It is so nice to meet you.”

The Mandalorian didn’t let you reply, he began to introduce you to the woman, as it you couldn’t do it yourself. You shrugged.

“I will show you where you will sleep. Follow me, please.”Omera declared, looking a bit too long at Mando.

Omera showed you the barn where you would sleep with the Mandalorian and the Child.

“I assumed the two of you would want to spend the night in the same room.”She muttered.

“Oh no! No, we are not together.”You interrupted her at your own regret.

When you saw her turn her face away and grin, you felt anger rising in your body. You knew that Omera had set her eyes on the Mandalorian, but didn’t Mando tell you you were his the other day? Was it all a lie?

“I hope this will be comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn.”Omera uttered, giving you blankets for the night.

“This will do fine.”The Mandalorian answered, glancing at the two cots while Omera was staring at him insistently.

Even though Mando was wearing his helmet, you knew when he was kind with someone. And here, he were clearly too kind with this woman that just give him a barn to sleep. You frowned, you didn’t want to spend another second with him and Omera, it was making you sick.

“I am going to check on the Child.”You murmured, leaving them finally alone.

Spotting the Child with the other children, you took a chair and sat, observing them at a convenable distance.

“Can I sit here?”

You gazed at the person talking. It was Cara.

You nodded absently.

“You okay?”She asked, using the back of her chair as an armrest.

“Yes, yes. Mando is talking with Omera.”

“I see.”She whispered, smirking.

“What?”You frowned.

“So you and the Mandalorian, huh? You two are a thing?”

You looked away quickly hoping Cara didn’t see your cheeks flushing.

“Of course not. He is a Mandalorian.”You stated, your eyes glued to the ground.

“And?”

“I am a Jedi, Cara. We can’t love.”

You didn’t expect Cara to break out of laugher.

“We can’t love.”You repeated, hoping this time she would explain what was so funny.

“You can’t, but that doesn’t mean you don’t.”

You huffed and looked away. She patted your shoulder in a friendly way and muttered.

“Good luck.”

And then, she left you alone. You smiled to yourself. You definitely loved that ex-shock trooper.

***

When you came back with the Child in your arms. Omera and her daughter were still in your so called room. Omera had brought you your meals. You put the Child in front of his plate and waited for him to eat.

“Can I feed him?”Winta questioned, glancing at the Mandalorian and then at you.

“Sure.”You and Mando answered at the same time. You looked at him and saw his gaze was on Omera who was watching her daughter feed the Child. You clenched your fists tightly to control yourself.

“Can I play with him?”Winta asked this time.

“Sure.”Mando replied.

You watched the Mandalorian take the Child in his arms softly, as if he had the most precious thing in his hands. He put him on the floor with Winta. She began to go outside, and when Mando realized Winta was going to take the Child with her, Mando couldn’t agree.

“I don’t think…”

“They’ll be fine.”Omera interrupted him, approaching him quickly.

“I don’t…”The Mandalorian continued.

“They’ll be fine.”Winta’s mother continued.

You saw her arm on Mando’s shoulder, and you wanted to initiate your lightsaber to fight, but you knew it wasn't the way of the Jedi. You were supposed to protect people not kill them because of your stupid jealousy. Maybe you weren’t fit to be a Jedi, maybe you would have been a better Sith, you told yourself.

“I brought you some food. I noticed you didn’t at out there. I’ll leave it there for when I go.”Omera declared, her eyes glowing with desire and love.

Omera took one step closer to the Mandalorian, and it was enough for you. You couldn’t just stare at them while they were talking as if you weren’t there.

“I am going for a walk.”You uttered, grabbing your lightsaber and heading for the exit of the barn.

“Y/N. Don’t go.” You heard the Mandalorian say, yet you couldn't’ listen to him.

Not this time.

Loving him was hard enough, but seeing a woman flirting with him while he wasn’t doing anything, it hurt you. It reopened old wounds. Wounds you thought were healed years ago when you had become a Jedi. When you were younger, you had many fears. You knew you wanted to become a Jedi, but you didn’t think you had the strength to do it. You doubted yourself, and you thought you didn’t deserve the title of Jedi. But when Master Yoda spent months to train you, he helped you grow your confidence and your trust in him. And now, Omera was quickly digging up your biggest fear. The fear of never being enough.

You ran towards the forest, where nobody could see you and hear you scream. You needed to be alone.

“Why is it always so difficult?”You shouted, kicking a tree and throwing your lightsaber.

“Hey. Easy there. You can’t just throw that now.”

You startled. It was Cara. Again, you thought. She gave you your lightsaber back and fastened it to your belt. You let yourself fall on a tree, closing your eyes, and feeling the wind against your cheeks. You heard Cara doing the same.

“He cares about you.”Cara spitted not looking at you.

You turned to look at her, and she wasn’t lying.

“Obviously. I am the Child babysitter.”

“That’s not what I meant. He really cares about you, not just as a babysitter. Why do you think Omera believed you only needed one room?”

You chuckled, and she laughed too.

“That’s only a mistake.”You whispered between two laughs.

“That’s what you want to tell yourself, Y/N. He can’t be away from you too long.”

“Stop joking, Cara.”

You giggled.

You heard someone coming and you initiated your lightsaber, ready to kill whoever wanted to hurt you and Cara. You glanced at the ex-shock trooper. She was ready to attack too.

“Y/N! You’re safe. I thought something had happened.”

The Mandalorian was here, staring at you and then Cara.

“I told you so, Y/N.”Cara said, putting away her blaster.

“I am going back.”She said, leaving you and the Mandalorian alone.

Mando didn’t seem to care. He waited for you to walk with him.

“Come on. We’re heading back.”

You nodded.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”He questioned.

You didn’t reply. You kept walking silently.

“Y/N. Answer me. I know something is wrong.”

The Mandalorian suddenly faced you and put his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from walking further.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

You sighed and tried to fight Mando.

“You should go back to Omera.”You spitted, venom in your voice.”I am sure she’s looking for you.”

Mando paused, and then he understood. He finally understood why you were acting so distant and so angry.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”He asked.

“I am not! She is just flirting with you all the time, and you are letting her! That’s the worst! You avoid me all day, and suddenly when you need me, you’re looking for me. I am not just a toy you can use when you need it.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t Y/N me! I am a Jedi and you’re just playing with me!”You cried, a single tear running on your cheek.

The Mandalorian slowly wiped your tear away with his gloved hand.

“I am not playing, Y/N. You’re a Jedi that’s why I am avoiding you.”He explained calmly, his hand still resting on your arm.

“You should have told me you hated the Jedi so much before bringing me with you.”

“I don’t hate the Jedi.”He uttered, staring at the ground as if he was ashamed of his behaviour.

“So what? You hate me?”You interrogated, clear hurt in your voice.

“No. I hate the fact that you are a Jedi and I am a Mandalorian! I am avoiding you because I know that I won’t be able to control myself when I am around you. I can’t control what I feel for you, Y/N, even if it’s against my Creed.”He declared, his breathing getting heavier.

He knew love was forbidden for him, and he couldn’t marry a Jedi. But he had been told what to do his whole life, and now he wanted to start a family with you and the Child more than anything.

“Is it true?”You questioned, taking a step back to protect yourself from his answer.

“Yes, Y/N. It’s the truth.”

Mando headed towards you and took your hands in his, slowly caressing the skin.

“I think I have feelings for you, Mando. I know we can’t, but I don’t care about the rules anymore. I only know that I want you and only you.”You murmured, enjoying the touch of his gloved hand against your skin.

“I want nothing more, Y/N.”

*****

⬇️chapter 10⬇️

Tag List:

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[cheese-ception]

Icy Shell

Darlings,  kindly forgive the initial angst - I promise the fluff that follows in the second half makes up for it tenfold.

Beta-tested on my dear @masamune-archive​ Tagging @tsubaki3192​ and @spanish-aguacate​, because I can and because it’s Levi time, you two, woo! Please, enjoy ♡ pairing: Leviathan (Obey Me!) x reader warnings: angst (to fluff) word count: 2004

Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and it wasn't fair. Leviathan's trembling fingers ran through his hair, still damp from the the shower he took earlier, purple strands glistening with stray droplets of water. Hours have passed him by as he struggled to pull himself together, pacing through his room anxiously, an agonized scowl twisting his features.

His eyes were glossed over, dark circles underneath them matching the shadows in his mind. He cursed profusely, tripping over one of the countless boxes littering the floor. Tears streamed down his cheeks, their wet trails almost painful in their descent, stinging his skin with merciless salt. He did not even bother to wipe them away, the last fragments of his focus set on a completely different kind of torment.

He picked up one of the boxes, tracing its edges with his chilled fingers, only to put it away again, carefully but without any real care at the same time.

The world was utterly joyless, a mere replica of what it used to be before the two of them met.

Before she filled his heart with all these strange feelings, causing him to become apathetic to the very things that used to keep him going.

Now none of them really mattered, regardless of how hard he tried.

Each time he ordered new merch, he lost interest before it even arrived.

Whatever game he played failed to entertain him.

Any show would have been better if she was there to watch it with him, leaving him feeling even more lonely and miserable.

He used to look forward to escaping social gatherings, to being alone in his room, able to enjoy the peace and quiet, far from the noise and the judgemental stares of all the normies he was forced to keep in touch with.

But not anymore.

Nothing made sense and it was all her fault.

Or was it, really? How many times had she asked to hang out together? How many times had she smiled at him, eyes sparkling with excitement, lips shiny with her cherry chapstick, upturned in the most endearing of smiles?

A smile that made him feel like his heart would cease beating if he didn't stop looking, so dazzling and brilliant that it made my shy away almost instantly.

He struggled hard not to give that feeling a name, afraid that if he did, the spell would break and she would finally realise he didn't deserve any of it, that she was better off sharing it with someone else, someone more worthy. He slid to the floor, hugging his knees tight to his chest, the war within him so intense that it easily put the whole celestial debacle to shame. Or at least that's certainly how it felt while his nails pierced his skin, setting themselves deep into the flesh of his forearms, crimson staining his white sleeves.

Days turned into weeks and he refused to leave his room, opening the door only when Asmodeus brought him food.

Sometimes not even then, leaving it grow cold at the doorstep, letting hunger gnaw at his insides in a desperate attempt to distract him from the void food couldn't fill.

It was better this way.

If he stayed away long enough, these feelings would eventually disappear. Surely he wouldn't suffer forever and she probably didn't even notice.

He was a nobody after all.

Nobody to be missed. He curled into himself in his tub, cradling a pillow to his chest and closed his eyes, ready to let the world disappear behind his weary eyelids and drift away to another restless sleep.

But even that wasn't meant to be as a soft knock sounded against the door, disturbing his attempt at disconnecting from reality.

“Go away, Asmo, I am not hungry!” he snarled, tossing around in a fruitless attempt at getting comfortable again.

He was met with silence, interrupted only by the soft click of the lock as the door opened slowly. Light spilling inside in harsh rays, Leviathan groaned, diving underneath the blanket where he sat still, pulling it over his head like a make-shift hoodie.

The floor creaked and he blinked fast, desperately trying to adjust his sight to the unwelcome luminosity but then the door closed again, shrouding everything in blissful darkness.

He sighed, relief spreading through him until he realised that his visitor didn't actually leave. Either that, or his nightmares came true and he was finally going crazy.

After all, he couldn't very well distinguish dreams from reality at this point and maybe he was just dreaming.

Why else would she be in there after all? “Levi?” a voice rang and his throat tightened, emotions flooding into him, threatening to suffocate him on the very spot.

He peered from underneath his blanket, trying to establish if it was really happening, not trusting his own voice enough to reply just yet.

“Are you okay?” Another sentence cut through the air, straight into his heart as he finally realised she was really there.

Her tone was filled with worry and he forced out a quiet hum, unsure just how to verbalize a proper response. “You have been away for a while, so I came here to check on you. I hope you do not mind too much. I know you probably did not want to see me, but I had to make sure you were alright,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, trailing off into an awkward silence. He didn't know what to say. There was so much he wished he had the courage to tell her but words failed to form and he opened his mouth to speak several times, only to close it again right after.

He felt something warm touch his arm and he shivered, torn between flinching away and remaining as he was, letting the warmth seep into his gelid body, devoid of any of his own heat within. It was like being kissed by the sun after a long winter and he decided to stay still, letting some of the frost that settled on him dissolve, even if only for a moment.

Daring to look up, he searched her face, pale in the dim light of Henry's fish tank, wearing an expression so sincere it made his grip on the blanket tighten, moved by the intensity of the moment as the realisation hit him.

She really cared. For him, out of all the beings in the three realms combined.

She chose to seek him when he wanted to make it easy on her.

When he wanted to make her life better by removing himself from it.

“You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but would it be okay if I hugged you?” she inquired, leaving him stunned for a few moments before he nodded, apprehension pulling at the last string that held him together. He thought he would fall apart right there in front of her, the frantic beating of his heart causing his blood to race, further melting his icy shell as he leaned forward tentatively.

For a fleeting moment he saw her smile, the very smile that shattered his heart and now pieced it back together, the sight of it making it soar like a phoenix born anew.

He held his breath, terrified that he misheard or that she was only teasing, ever so difficult to be convinced that anything pleasant could actually ever take place with him as a part of the equation. Doubt tugged at his mind, dismay threatening to settle in while he steeled himself, arms unfolded and raised in front of him somewhat awkwardly, waiting for her next move.

Suddenly her slender frame collided with his and it was as if he ascended back to heaven. Her scent enveloped him in its fruity sweetness, her chest pressed against his, delicate arms winding around him, patting his back affectionately.

It was entirely too much, yet somehow not enough and he choked back a whimper, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to silence himself instead.

Levi whined at the loss of the sensation when she eventually drew away, much too soon for his liking, even though he wouldn't openly admit it.

She took both of his hands in hers, giving them a little squeeze and he realised they were no longer cold at all. He closed his eyes, happiness spreading through him like a wildfire, the sparks of his love burning so bright and vivid that he nearly couldn't take it.

“I really missed you,” she chimed, loosening her grip on his hands, giving him space to retreat if he chose to do so.

“I am not quite sure what happened, but suddenly you were gone and it was like a part of me was missing too. Sorry if it sounds weird, but it's just not the same without you around, you know?”

“You really mean that?” he rasped, voice strained and hoarse, a mix of hope and insecurity filling it with equal share.

“Of course, why would I say it if I didn't mean it, silly?” she retorted, flashing him yet another smile and his last icy wall melted away.

Pulling her back to him, he let go of the previous hesitation, eager to feel more of what he spend so long denying himself, flustered and overstimulated but more content than he has ever been.

His trust was not easy to earn, but he decided to believe her and silence the nagging voices in his head for once. For her. And perhaps for himself too.

Her fingers combed through his hair, untangling the unruly tresses while her nails drew intricate patterns over his scalp, soothing yet enticing at the same time. He let out a sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and she pulled him even closer, until he could feel her heartbeat mirroring his own in their silent race without a winner, invigorating beyond description. He felt more alive than ever before, her name dying on his lips while he carefully stroked her back in turn. He wished he could take back all the time he had wasted, thinking himself a fool for avoiding her when it was so strikingly obvious that what he really craved was the exact opposite of that.

Every second spent with her was sacred and he realised it now.

He didn't have to hide. Not anymore.

She brushed his fringe away, kissing his exposed forehead, gentle fingers attempting to tuck the silky strands away, failing tremendously. His hair cascaded back into its place, stubborn, just like himself. Levi chuckled and she kissed him again, this time on top of the messy purple layers, rewarded by a soft gasp.

“Do you still remember when you once asked me what my greatest fear was and I wasn't sure what to reply?” she inquired, snapping him out of the momentary daze.

He nodded, patiently waiting for her to continue.

Her hand slid to his cheek, gently stroking his flustered face as she took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I did not yet know then, but what really scares me is the thought of living in a world untouched by your presence, Levi. Please don't disappear on me like that again.” He met her gaze, reluctant and skittish at first, but soon grinning so hard the tips of his usually hidden fangs were on full display. He was grateful, for her but also for the fact that he somehow managed to retain his human form. He was certain that if his tail had manifested, there would be nothing he could do to prevent it from wagging. His cheeks burned even brighter than before, eyes flickering with newly found zeal. He continued smiling, extending a pinky to her with poorly concealed enthusiasm, focusing hard on pushing back the scales that begged to sprout across the sides of his hand while he held it out in her direction. “I won’t, I promise!” ________ Masterlist

[my-arlington-academia]

Cliffany part 2

O-kay, and that’s it! I don’t know if I’ll write a continuation tbh since it was just a silly little idea that came out of nowhere. (Although I did have some ideas for more!) I haven’t really been active on my fanblog lately so it’s not like it’ll make much of a difference though haha. By the way, I’m thinking about making my blog more "Dulcet-oriented" rather than just SE. I hope you guys don’t mind? Recently, I’ve been getting more and more into Black Tarot! So expect my blog to change a lil 🔮🕯🌌

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It had been a couple of days now since Tiffany’s last interaction with Claire, and while she was still ignoring her like before, Tiffany’s efforts in doing so had increased. The moment she spotted her in the corner of her eye, she would move at a faster pace, as if running away. Was it guilt after all? No, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with Claire’s annoying and unnecessary empathy. The empathy that she knew she didn’t deserve which made her feel even more frustrated towards Claire.

All she should be worried about right now is getting more followers on Instaglam, not avoiding a nobody like the plague. On that note, spring was coming soon, the flowers started to blossom and the days were getting longer which meant... that the "cottagecore" tag on insta would go trending soon, no doubt! And of course, living on the Arlington campus as one of its students, this gave Tiffany the access to its beautiful garden. Although honestly, she only ever went there to take pictures and this time wasn’t any different. She had prepared some tea sets and dresses for the occasion, all of which she would throw away once spring went away along with its "trends."

Carried by her confident footsteps, she walked to the garden. That confidence was only a facade though. She knew exactly what kind of people and who in particular went to take strolls quite often in this goddamn garden. But hey, it was 7pm and the sun would soon start to set. Knowing that Claire always arrives 15 minutes in advance to any meeting and most likely always wakes up at 6am, there was nothing to be worried about. Chances are, she was either doing her homework before going to bed like a goody-two-shoes or watering her weird-ass plants. Tiffany always had the horror of seeing these at Raquel’s parties. It just didn’t fit at all with the rest of what was going on in the room and ruined the whole "party" vibe.

In any case, there she was, searching for a good spot to take pictures and set up a fake picnic. That basket filled with different colored blankets, tea sets, biscuits, tea and a pie was way heavier than Tiffany had initially thought. Maybe she really should’ve asked for collab pictures with Trisha from the fine arts department. She didn’t really like her but when it came to follower count they were surprisingly close, although Tiffany was still number one of course. Still, if she had asked for a collab they could’ve carried those heavy props together.

After finding a good spot next to the pond, Tiffany set everything up in an aesthetically pleasing manner and got down to taking the pictures. She was taking different shots to post them one by one throughout the week and give out the illusion that she was taking those the same day she posted them. She was ready to upload the first one, call it a day and go back to the dorms without touching any of the tea or cakes. It’s all just useless calories anyways. As she was putting the tags on the picture, she started wondering what were the names of those flowers in the background.

"Ugh, fuck. What are those orange shits called again?"

"Marigolds."

"Ah right, thank y-"

Tiffany immediately snapped her head back. This annoyingly gentle voice could only belong to one person.

"...What the fuck, Claire. Where did you pop out from?!"

There’s no was she was there the whole time, right? It’s true that Tiffany could get lost in what she was doing once she was focused but it wasn’t to the point where she became completely unaware of her surroundings.

"I came by a few minutes ago... Y-you looked so invested in what you were doing that I didn’t want to bother you! I didn’t mean to pry."

Well, Tiffany could always upload those damn pictures from her room. Claire’s arrival just meant that it was time for her to leave. However, seeing that Tiffany started packing up her things, Claire panicked thinking that it’s her fault. Which was in fact, her fault... in a way.

"O-oh! You’re not going to finish your picnic? I’m so sorry, I’ll just leave! Throwing all of this good food away would be such a waste-"

"Are you fucking dumb?"

Did she not get that this was all only a set-up for taking pictures? It was obvious that Tiffany didn’t have any intention of eating or drinking any of that. Not to mention that after everything that happened the other day, she was still not scared of approaching her?

"I don’t give a damn about the food, it was just for my social media accounts you dumb bit- ... dimwit. I was already done anyway so you don’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m leaving."

"I see! T-then maybe I can help?!"

Help? What did Claire even know about- Actually, on second thought. This whole "cottagecore" shtick was a great fit for Claire. She probably already had all of the things Tiffany bought last week for those pictures, even better and more authentic-looking ones probably. This was maybe the one and only time Tiffany would let Claire "help" her. But from her point of view, she was mostly just using her.

"Hm. Is that so? How can you help me then... Claire."

"Wait just a second! I’ll be back right away!!!"

She ran immediately towards the dorms. Well, she'll probably bring a bunch of random stuff. In the end, Tiffany was really torn between the idea of staying and waiting for who knows how long and the idea of leaving right now. Surely, Claire would make a hilarious expression when she’d realize that she was played with and abandoned. While trying to laugh it off, Tiffany accidentally remembered what happened a few days ago, along with Claire’s crying face. Damn... Okay, fine. She’ll wait for her but only because it would be annoying if she bawled again like a damn toddler.

And so she waited until, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a girl with a pink dress running towards her. That girl, of course, being Claire. She carried a picnic basket with her too, but much bigger and more practical. For half a second, Tiffany thought that Claire actually looked maybe, just maybe, a little bit pretty. She erased the thought in a hurry, covering it with harsh words as usual.

"Wh-why did you change your clothes? You think I’m gonna take pictures of you?"

"Ah, no, well..."

Claire looked at the beautiful picnic set-up and the cyan dress Tiffany was wearing.

"I just wanted to fit in with the rest of what you put up, I guess. Also, don’t you think that we kinda match? I brought some of the cookies I baked and my favorite teas and tea set. I think mine will look better with your picnic blanket! Uh- N-not to say that yours looks bad!!!"

She was trying so hard to make herself likable that it was painful to see... and kinda cute. God, Tiffany was really hating her thoughts today. She was just going soft because of Claire’s aura or something. Again, this was definitely the first and last time she was letting Claire help her with anything. I’d be bad if she turns completely brain-dead and clueless like her.

"...Whatever. Show me what you got. I’ll decide if it’s good enough."

Claire was pulling everything out of the basket one by one. Everytime, better and better items were pulled out after the other. Her cakes and cookies gave off a "homey" feeling which was more fitting with the aesthetic rather than Tiffany’s store bought patisseries. Claire was staring at her, wide-eyed and excited.

"W-what do you think, Tiffany? It looks good, doesn’t it?!"

"Uh. Yeah, it’s fine, I guess. I’ll take a few pics."

That was a lie. This looked so much better than the try-hard bullshit Tiffany had done. She was good at riding on the "trend wave" but Claire was a natural when it came to this one specific thing. Tiffany was trying to look as poker-faced as she could so as to not show her satisfaction, but clearly, her apparent enthusiasm for each shot was  betraying her. Sometimes, she would accidentally take one with Claire in the shot and ask her to move.

"Hey. You’re ruining the picture with your ugly fac- dress. Move to the right."

Before Tiffany could even do anything about it, Claire was already pouring some tea into 2 cups.

"Woah woah woah, put the teapot down. I didn’t agree to this."

"But...This is a kettle, Tiffany. Not a teapot."

"Oh, shut it!"

Claire gave off such a dejected face that Tiffany, once again, felt like she was kicking a poor puppy to the ground. She held back on going off on a rant.

"But we’re already here and the weather is so nice! It would be such a shame not to use any of this at all..."

Claire looked around, observing this beautiful setting, not to mention, the sun was finally starting to set. Going home right now would be like an insult to the utter beauty of this scene, it almost looked like it came right out of a fairy tale picture book. Without mulling it over any further, Tiffany took a sip out of her cup.

"I’m only doing this because I feel compelled to, got it?"

Claire’s eyes lit up nonetheless.

"Alright! Please try out my cookies too!"

Tiffany contemplated them for a second... is it true that home-made stuff is more healthy? Surely, that’s just a myth, right? A cake from the store and a home-made cake will have about the same amount of sugar in them regardless of who made them and how. Well, she did see Claire share her food from time to time with her friends and while she would never admit it, it is true that she was a bit curious about trying them herself. What was the last time she had eaten anything "home-made"? Or did it ever even happen?

"...Okay, whatever. I bet they taste shitty."

Tiffany reluctantly took a bite... It was surprisingly really delicious!

"It’s bad."

"R-really?"

As much as she wanted to lie about it, she couldn’t after seeing Claire make that dejected face again.

"Uhhh. No, um. Hmm... On second thought, it’s pretty average. It’s okay-ish."

Tiffany really hated herself right now. Being mean has never been this hard before. She couldn’t wait for the moment where they would be done with this ridiculous play-pretend and go back to her room. She tried drinking and eating as fast as she could without making it look like she was in a hurry to run away from this awkward situation. And God, it was so fucking hard...

Unsurprisingly, they were both pretty silent the whole time. Well, it wasn’t like they had anything to converse about or things in common. Right as Tiffany was about to get up and pack up her belongings, for real this time, Claire spoke up. Nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Um. So you know, I have something to confess to you, Tiffany."

Oh God, not now. As much as Tiffany found this timing annoying, she couldn’t help but poke fun at that poor choice of words.

"Confess? Oh my, so you like me in that way, huh? That explains everything."

"Wha- N-no! That’s not it! I mean, realistically speaking, t-that would never even happen!"

Was she implying that she could never like someone like Tiffany? Well, Tiffany herself was the one who brought this up but she was a bit offended at that statement. Regardless though, the way she was trying to deny it so hard was kinda cute. No. Not cute at all! If this went on, Tiffany would really become crazy before the end of this day.

"Last time, you said that I was only being kind towards others to profit off of them and I didn’t say anything but... that wasn’t true at all! I always wanted to help you because I thought that you needed it, I swear. Not to satisfy myself! ... Well. Except maybe..."

"Except...?"

"T-today. I admit that I kind of had ulterior motives."

Now that piqued Tiffany’s curiousness right away. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave as much anymore if it meant that Claire would finally admit that she did some things for her own benefit. Why was it? Did she want to post a picture of herself on Tiffany’s Instaglam to fish for compliments, knowing that she had a lot of followers? Claire hid her face behind her hands and muttered a few words.

"I... wanted you to warm up to me."

"...Huh?"

That’s it? That was it? Claire’s ulterior motive was for Tiffany to "warm up to her."?

"So like, you want us to be friends or some shit?"

"Oh no! Not necessarily that far, just... good acquaintances!"

Is she stupid? There’s no way that she genuinely thinks those "motives" are bad. Tiffany sighed in exasperation.

"Listen. I’m just really tired right now, I don’t have the energy to assimilate all the shit you’re saying. I’m packing all of this up and going back to the dorms."

In complete silence, they gathered all of their belongings and walked to the dorms while keeping a fair distance between the 2 of them. As if to say, "we’ve got nothing to do with each other." Surprisingly, Claire didn’t try anything anymore. Didn’t even wish for a "good night" or a "good evening" which was weird to say the least. Tiffany tried to ignore it and when she got back and unpacked all of the props, she noticed something that didn’t belong to her. One of Claire’s lunch boxes with cookies in them and... a note?

Here’s my number just in case ;3 Please give me my lunchbox back once you’re done eating the cookies!♡

"...Your note makes me wanna barf."

So that’s why she didn’t try anything. That sneaky little... she must've slid that into the basket when they were packing. She already knew that Tiffany would eventually be forced to talk to her again... as if! Who says she’ll return it? She can just throw all the cookies away along with the box... Or so she thought. Tempted, she took a bite, then another one. And another one. Her diet was ruined for sure now. Damn you Claire and your stupidly great cooking skills, as if you needed another skill to be better and more perfect than you already are. Tiffany put the box away, trying to forget the delicious taste and smell. Back to Instaglam she goes. Uploading the picture while adding the "marigold" tag on it. Going through the pictures again, she noticed that some of them had Claire in the corner. She was thinking of deleting them but... well whatever. She can just crop her out later if needed. Her dress looks pretty so it’s fine even if she does appear in the pictures. All we see is a bit of her hair, as long as her face isn’t visible, it’s okay. Yup. It was totally not because Tiffany was slowly starting to feel something towards the girl she was trying so hard not to get involved with.

[tsrookie]

Alright, so today’s the three-year anniversary of Reputation a.k.a the greatest album of all time, my baby, the light of my life, the album that deserved a Grammy (trying desperately not to think about the scene from Miss Americana😭), the album that introduced us to the most beautiful couple ever, the album that shut Kimye up, and I better stop now, or else I’m not gonna shut up.

So in honour of this momentous occasion (and the fact that I reached 200+ followers! Thank you so much you guys!🥺 Love you all 3000💙), here’s a loooooong post on why Reputation is the Ethan and MC album.

1. ...Ready For It?

No one has to know

Throwback to MC saying the exact same words back in Miami.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

You should see the things we do, baby, mmm

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

I know I'm gonna be with you

So I take my time

Remember back when MC asked for Ethan to get into bed right away during their first time? Ethan told them that he had dreamt about the moment for months, so he wasn’t going to rush it.

2. End Game

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me would be a big conversation

These two dating would be the talk of the hospital, and they know it.

Even when we'd argue, we don't do it for long

And you understand the good and bad, end up in the song

For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Think these lines are pretty self-explanatory😌

I hit you like bang

We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't

*gets war flashbacks of the ‘reset’ phase*😭 They tried to make it work, but we all know how Ch 8 of book 2 went😌

I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me

Perfect for our chaotic MC😌

3. Don’t Blame Me

Do I... really have to explain this one?

For you, I would cross the line

I would waste my time

I would lose my mind

They say she's gone too far this time

Do we need a recap of our rule-breaking MC?

And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'd beg you on my knees to stay

He was willing to risk his (mostly) rule-abiding reputation for being with MC. And there’s no way he wouldn’t beg for MC not to leave him if he ever screwed up🤷‍♀️

4. Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

Ethan stood by MC’s side throughout the Ethics hearing, when her reputation was completely smeared, and people only saw her as a patient murderer. He didn’t know about the sabotages, but he would’ve definitely supported her if he had known.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

Commitment-phobia🙃

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep

Are you ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

They spent so much of time apart, not able to be with each other, so the least they could do was dream of being with each other all the time.

5. So It Goes (an underrated af bop)

What can I say... it’s a sex song, okay? Don’t make me go into the details😂 Just listen to the lyrics, and all will be clear.

6. Gorgeous (Tumblr won’t let me put any more links)

MC’s eternal anthem to Ethan.

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

We all know Ethan loves Whiskey, and the second line? C’mon!

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But, what can I say?

You're gorgeous

Ethan Ramsey is famous for two reasons. One: his smart brain, I guess😒 Two: HIS LOOKS!!! HE’S GORGEOUS, AND DON’T DENY IT.

And you should think about the consequence

Of you touching my hand in the darkened room (dark room, dark room)

Ah, the olden days of hand holding in the diagnostics office🥺

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

No explanation required.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

The wonderful will-they-won’t-they saga. The frustrating hot-and-cold behaviour. The ‘We can’t’, ‘It’s unethical’ and ‘It’s complicated’. MC deserves an award for her patience😓

7. King Of My Heart

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own

I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone

Ethan ‘I don’t believe in soulmates and nobody’s waiting at home’ Ramsey.

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

This could be from both Ethan and MC’s perspectives. The love they share isn’t something that you get easily. It’s something that MC has waited for her whole life, and something Ethan never knew he needed, but now can’t live without🥺

Late in the night, the city's asleep

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

Change my priorities

The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

This was definitely Ethan throughout book 2, after he finally gave in. He let go of his previous rules and regulations, especially during the time of the attack. He was clearly affected, and once MC was alright, his main priority was her, and her alone.

Is the end of all the endings?

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

Ethan’s been burnt a lot in the past. But all those wounds are now healing thanks to MC.

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

They act like lovesick teenagers around each other, like, that’s literally their description if you choose to kiss Ethan for the first time in Chapter 14 of book 2!😅

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

Baby, all at once, this is enough

We all know about his initial fear of his mother reaching out to him for the sake of his money. To him, MC not talking advantage of him is a pretty big deal, even though it’s never mentioned. You just know, you know?🥺

8. Dancing With Our Hands Tied

My, my love had been frozen

Deep blue, but you painted me golden

Again, Ethan doesn’t have the best experience with love. But MC changed that.

I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted

This could go both ways, cause they’re both piping hot messes😬 (but love each other anyway🥺)

The rest of this song could have made so much more sense for them if we had gotten some sort of a secret relationship storyline. But oh well, I’m definitely not complaining about the gala😌 (and definitely not believing any of the supposed cancelled storylines)

9. Dress

Our secret moments

In a crowded room

They got no idea

About me and you

I mean... pretty obvious😌

Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My one and only, my lifeline

This is practically Ethan’s train of thought, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

As for the rest of the steamier lyrics... I’ll um... let you guys listen to it yourselves😁

10. Call It What You Want

I wrote an entire fic inspired by this song, so excuse me for the shameless self-promo, but go give it a read?🥺👉👈(totally fine if you don’t! I’ve probably made so many posts about this song that y’all know the meaning anyway😅)

11. New Years Day

Don't read the last page

But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away

I want your midnights

But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

MC has always stayed by Ethan’s side, even when he’s pushed her away. These lines perfectly explain how she wants his worst times, and his best, the midnights they spend staying up together, and the moments where it’s just the two of them, when everyone else has left, like the aftermath of a New Years party (still mad at the fact that we didn’t get to see the gang celebrate New Year together😭)

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe

Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

The above explanation for these lines as well.

Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

Becoming strangers to each other would be their worst nightmares. Knowing that the other was out there in the world somewhere, but not being in their lives would kill them.

You and me forevermore

These two are each other’s soulmate, they know it, even if they haven’t said it yet. Forever wouldn’t be enough for them to shower each other with they love they hold for each other. But it’s a good start.

——————————

If you guys made it this far, then I honestly love you more than words can ever express🥺💙 Thanks for putting up with my Swiftie-Directioner-Ethan stan ass, cause I dunno if I’d ever be able to handle someone like myself. And if you read all the above stuff, then I hope you wanna know why this album means so much to me.

Reputation is perceived as a dark album, when in reality it’s truly about finding love amongst all the noise. This album, and Taylor and Joe’s story, taught me what true love actually is, and Ethan and MC cemented that. This album and these two couples (quite literally) saved my life.

The most beautiful part about both these relationships is that even though they never showed it openly, for the sake of their relationships, both Ethan(in the story) and Joe stood by the side of the one’s they loved, despite half of the people who they knew hating on them, or betraying them. And I think that’s what’s truly important. Forming a true relationship like that, be it platonic or romantic, is long lasting, and I hope everyone finds those kind of people to fill their hearts with. Sending much love, and sorry for being a huge sap😅💙

Tagging a couple of my Swiftie homies: @swiftlydarcy @nikki-2406 @dxnicaramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @drariellevalentine @justanotherrookie

[hopesbarnes]

Black Swan (2)

Summary: Y/N used to be a Russian spy under the code name Black Swan. But that was a lifetime ago, now she’s a part-time avenger, dance teacher, surrogate sister to Natasha Romanoff, and trainer to new Shield Agents. She’s come a long way from the days of killing targets and being tortured. But when someone from her past comes around will she be able to ignore her history anymore? Or will she end up falling in love with the only man her sister ever loved?

Warnings: Mentions of past hydra abuse 

A/N: Italics is a flashback! Taglist is open, send an ask. Make sure to check out my 900 follower writing challenge in my bio!!

It had been an especially gruesome day. Training seemed to last all morning and it felt like every inch of you was bruised or broken. It probably was. Luckily, you were given the afternoon off for ‘studies’. It happened very little that you were given any time without being watched, so everyone took advantage and relaxed. 

Natasha came up to you with a pleading look, “Пожалуйста, прикрой меня (Please cover me)” she said. 

“Куда ты идешь (Where are you going?)” You asked, despite the fact you were pretty sure where she was headed. 

She smiled sweetly, “на свидание с Джеймсом (On a date with James)” 

She was so naive when it came to him. From the moment they met, she was infatuated.  “будь осторожен, не попадись (Be careful, don’t get caught)” I said before adding “повеселись (have fun)”.

 You wanted to protect her from heartbreak, or something worse. But at the same time, she deserved to be happy. She ran away and you sighed. Nat was head over heels for the man, and you just hoped it didn’t interfere in training or get her in trouble.

James had arrived an hour ago and looked the same as he did over two decades ago. It was as if time had frozen and you were years younger. But if you’re being honest, Natasha and you looked the same too. All that genetic testing and drugs pumped into you slowed your aging amongst other things. 

 Memories started to come back when you saw him, some more pleasant than others. In particular, you remembered one of the times Tasha snuck out to see him. She used to be so innocent before the world hardened her. Seeing him was even harder on her. She couldn’t even stay in the same room as him. She left moments after he arrived with a shaky “I have to go do something”. Everyone seemed fine with that, but you knew she was freaking out inside. Sisters always knew when something was wrong.

You mistakenly called him James before he mentioned that he preferred to be called Bucky. When you had said his name he looks at you with confusion, as if he’s trying to search his brain for a memory that he’s unsure exists. He says he has few memories from the past, and all of them were right before he was ‘wiped’. You don’t mention the red room where he spent some of his missing time. Probably a blessing in disguise, all that happened there was bloody. Not worth remembering if it could be avoided.

After some polite small talk with Steve and Bucky, you excuse yourself to find Nat. You’ve seen her at her worst and know when she’s not alright. And this was one of those times.

You knock on her door, but don’t wait for an answer to enter the room. 

“What if I was naked?” she yells out annoyed when you find her attacking a punching bag viciously. 

You laugh, “As if that would stop me!” she joins you in laughing but continues to brutalize the bag. “Hey, what did that bag do to you сестренка? (sis)” You tease. 

She huffs in annoyance. “Does he remember?” 

“No, but when I called him James he looked like he was trying to. It might only be a matter of time,” you reply honestly. She should be ready for her past to come back.

“Duly noted,” she says. 

“I’m guessing by the state of this bag you remember though,” you say pointing at the bag missing stuffing. 

“Not hard, no matter how many times they cleared my head he always came back. It’s like he’s forever etched in my brain in grave details.” You nod and she slumps down against the wall. You go over and sit next to her and she rests her head on your shoulder. 

“I really did love him at one point. In fact, I think he’s the only guy I’ve ever loved.” You feel wetness on your sleeve but don’t dare to say that aloud. 

“Oh honey, I know,” you say stroking her hair. “But he’s not that person anymore, and neither are you.” She hums in agreement with this. 

“Do you think we can keep this between us. It’s not in any file and you are the only one who knows.” You’ve only heard her this broken a few times before. 

“I was never going to tell anyone, любовь (love). You keep a million things quiet for me, and I a million for you. That’s what sisters are for.” You both just sit in silence with her leaning against you for a while. 

A few weeks had gone by since Bucky moved in. He got into a schedule, and the initial awkwardness died down. Tasha still couldn’t be in a room with him for more than 5 minutes, but she’s slowly coming to terms that he isn’t going anywhere. 

You started putting together the girl’s solos for competition and finished the large group before moving on to a small group of the younger girls. You also started to train new SHIELD agents, a compromise you made to get off the field more. They all picked up skills easily and were quick on their feet. You were only needed for one mission at that time, and it was a quick recon that only took three days. Child’s work really.

It was a Thursday afternoon and the rest of the team was doing some press to promote the image that Avengers wasn’t just a group of superheroes who sometimes ruined cities. This left you and Bucky alone in the compound. You tried to avoid him, but he was everywhere. 

In the gym? He was working out. In the library? He was reading a book. In the garden? He was planting seeds. By the time you ran into him in the kitchen you had run out of excuses for why you kept leaving. This meant having to stay sitting on a stool and pretend you didn’t feel insanely uncomfortable around him. You resented him so much, but it’s hard to resent someone who doesn’t remember you at all.

“I know you,” he says frankly, pulling you from your thoughts. It takes a moment for the words to completely register.

 “Uhm yeah? We’ve been living in the same building for a month now.” You hear yourself say, praying that it’s what he is referring to, but knowing it’s not.

 “No, I knew you. From when I was the soldier, right?” You sigh. You knew he would remember eventually but you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. 

“Yeah, we knew each other,” You confirm. He frowns as if this was the harder of the replies you could give. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“It wasn’t a particularly fun time for me. Plus, I uh- hated you. Probably still do. It’s unclear, you returning is super confusing for me.” He laughs at this, and you’re left confused. Who chuckles when you admit to hating them? 

“You think this is confusing? Try not remembering anything but snippets of your life! It sucks!” he's hysterical now. As if you had just told the funniest joke ever. “Russia right? I remember the cold.” 

You nod, “Да, добро старый отчизна (Yes, good old motherland).” He laughs again. 

“не очень по-матерински, да? (Not very motherly, huh?)” This makes you join in with his laughter. 

“So, you hate me?” he asks. 

“Hated,” you correct. “I’m unsure how I feel about you now.” 

He looks apologetic at this and says “I’m sorry for whatever I did to you.” 

“It’s not like you hurt me, and I know it wasn’t you. God, they were horrible,” you tell him before asking, “What do you remember about then?” 

He thinks for a moment before saying, “Not much. Lots of blood.” He says shrugging, blood was sadly a normal occurrence in both your lives. “A building with people telling me what to do. The cryo. But I remember you, and other girls. Why?” Deciding that this would take some time, you get up to make some coffee. 

“Hold up, let’s get some coffee and I’ll tell you about back then.” He nods.

After pouring two cups of coffee, both black you guide him to sit on the couch with him and get comfortable. 

“So around 30 years ago both my parents died. I was 18 years old and had no idea what I was doing, or how to protect myself.” he looks astonished by this. 

“But you look 25!” he exclaims. 

“You don’t look 100,” you add and he makes a face in agreement. 

You continue with your story. “I met a man and fell for him. Thought he was the love of my life. Turns out he was just looking for someone to turn into a spy for the Russian government. Within three months I was put in the red room or Красная комната as it was called. It’s where they trained their female spies. They took me because I was a ballerina. It had created was discipline, strength, and flexibility. All things you want in a spy.” 

“Steve said you were a dancer,” he says, “You don’t need to say anymore if you don’t want to. I get it.” You shake your head. 

“I need to do this,” you admit to him. He nods encouragingly.

“We also were experimented on. Injected with their versions of the super-soldier serum. Close to what they put into you. They did other medical things to make us into the best spies. I was put through the ‘wiping’ a few times, but it never stuck for the important stuff, just made little details fuzzy. We trained to be silent and deadly. They had me be part of the national ballet, as a cover. In between shows I was sent on missions to kill people, or steal information. Nobody ever expected a girl who wore tutus in front of thousands of people. I got the tag, Black Swan, after the ballet and it stuck.” 

You pause to take a sip of your coffee. “That’s where I met Natasha, she was also part of the red room. She was a few years younger and I tried my best to protect her in any way that I could.” 

“Where do I fit into this?” he asks. 

“You trained me. In all combat-related areas. Taught me how to shoot a gun, where to hold your arms to snap someone's neck. How to tackle someone twice your size.” He looks ashamed of this. “I know it wasn’t you, and if you weren’t there it would have been someone else to train me. It’s not the entire reason I hated you but it’s a part of it.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your past still haunts you. “Is that why Natasha leaves the room whenever I’m around?” He asks. You nod. “Thank you for telling me all of that, I know it’s hard.” You smile back at him. 

“Okay! On that note, how about we watch a movie. Ever see Mean Girls?”

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[carewyncromwell]

I don't know if you want to talk about this (and feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer), but I wanted to ask which side of the Ethren mess you're on? I know in the beginning you were on his side, but I've seen so much hate and so many accusations and I don't know what to believe anymore, and I trust your judgement

I have to be honest -- when I first saw that a blog had been created with the specific purpose of “calling out” someone in the HPHM fandom...I blocked it.

I come to this fandom largely to escape from the real world. It’s been one of the few remaining sanctuaries I’ve had during this quarantine and from my own mental health problems. I’ve made a lot of friends in this community, and I feel very strongly about putting out more positive content than negative, as well as trying to digest more positive than negative. I don’t like the thought of a stranger posting stuff online about someone else who -- let’s be honest -- nobody truly knows unless they actually physically know them IRL. Unless one wants to go down an entire rabbit hole of getting to know a person uncomfortably well, there’s not much anyone can do to prove what’s true. And I know it sounds really immature and selfish of me, but...I was never that interested in learning much about this fandom’s members’ personal lives, excluding what the friends I’ve made have been willing to confide in me on a case by case basis. I have plenty of my own drama happening over here on my side, and I just want to have fun roleplaying with people’s characters and making content for both mine and theirs. It’s been one of the few things that helped me fight back my untreated and severe chronic depression after being furloughed from my job thanks to the COVID-19 shutdown. My job had been my escape, and without it, I was drowning -- one of my only life preservers was making content for this blog. So for my own mental health, I shut out the negativity, because I wasn’t emotionally or mentally able to deal with it. And admittedly, it felt to me as though this sort of thing really shouldn’t be handled online when -- again -- this sort of thing seems like it’d be better handled in the real world and the legal system, rather than in the court of mostly anonymous public opinion. And it also feels kind of nasty to reblog content from people online who simply liked the character Ethren Whitecross and made fan content for him, just to harangue them for it. It’s like attacking all Harry Potter fans for being transphobic just because they enjoyed something created by a trans-exclusionary radical feminist -- particularly when in the case of Ethren, the vast majority of us don’t know Ren personally. One could’ve related to Ethren’s story without knowing anything about his creator, and people did, often not because of any kind of malevolent reasons.

After receiving this message, though, I unblocked the blog in question and read some more of their posts. When I’d first blocked it, the only post of theirs I saw in the HPHM tag came across as rather hostile, and combined with Ren’s blog saying that an ex was stalking him, I don’t think it’s unsurprising that some people were initially warded off by it. But reading some of the other stuff written on that blog since...I must acknowledge there’s a lot of troubling stuff there. It made me very upset, and made me kind of regret that I’d initially jumped into making a stance without hearing both sides. But at the same time, considering that someone from outside the fandom had arrived specifically to target someone in the fandom, supposedly on behalf of someone else who also had no ties to the fandom, it looked a lot like cyberbullying to me at the time. Now it’s very clear there’s more to the story, and for that initial leap to judgment, I am sorry. I wasn’t in a place where I understood fully what the discussion was about before I took a side, and that’s something I should know better than to do.

But I think this comes down to, in the end, my answer to your question, regarding sides.

I don’t want to take a side -- because I didn’t come to the HPHM fandom to fight people. I came here to be happy.

I know someone could read this as cowardly and ignorant, but please, understand that I thought long and hard about this. This place has been a safe space for me, and I understand it has been for others as well -- a place where we can go to enjoy art and fanfiction for something we enjoy and roleplay as new, interesting characters with other people who have similar interests and creative leanings. I thoroughly understand that it can’t truly be a safe space if we allow people who would threaten other people’s safety into it, and I also thoroughly understand that people can include problematic aspects of themselves into their characters along with good things (just look at how J.K.’s apparent subliminal views on the LGBT+ community influenced how she’s handled Dumbledore). Both things are definitely things to be aware of, and it’ll be an ongoing struggle to try to propagate a truly welcoming and positive, and yet safe and supportive community. There will always be shadows and dark spots that aren’t easy to see, just like with all fandoms, and it’s good to now and again take the time to examine them.

But to quote a line from one of my favorite songs, “it’s hard to light a candle, easy to curse the dark instead.”  I cannot log onto my computer and into this fandom every day and think about openly attacking someone else, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. This feels like something that the victim should handle herself in the real world, and I truly hope that she finds peace in whatever path she takes. But that is her story to tell, to write, and to play out -- it’s not mine. Mine is a story I have written and am still writing, where I’ve tried to find a way to be happy and be a good person despite everything in my life that has made that so difficult. And so I truly feel the only way I can approach this situation is to not let the things that hurt and drain me have power over my life, and put my energy toward things that build me up instead. I try not to visit tags or places online that could be triggering, and simply enjoy the things I do like. I’ve stopped spending money on things Harry Potter-related because of Jo’s stance on transgender rights, but still engage in the HP fandom and celebrate what is good in the original material and especially what its fandom has made out of it. In this case, I will simply do the same, particularly since from the look of things, Ren’s blog is no longer around for anyone to interact with anyway, positively or not. I’ll engage with blogs whose work I can still enjoy and give me some light when I most need it, and try my best to keep creating more light of my own for others. I will light candles, and little by little, I’d like to think the room will be bright enough that the dark will be significantly smaller and less scary than it was.

I understand if any of you disagree with or are angry about anything I’ve said. I know “playing both sides” is not a great thing to do, and I truly don’t mean to. But I’m afraid I do have to take my own side here, for my own mental and emotional well-being. I responded to this Ask because I felt like saying nothing would’ve truly been the cowardly thing to do, by pretending the issue isn’t there at all. I’m not pretending it isn’t there -- but I do think it’s a battle I’m ill-equipped to engage in, not because of my personal morals, but because I don’t feel emotionally able to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner in this court of public opinion.

[darknessisafriend]

Can I request an imagine where reader had an accident and lost his memory permanently, however, Joe does not give up his wife and tries to win her back. joe x reader, thank you❤️🧡💚

Hi!! Here it is, however it’s going to come out in several parts cause you really inspired me <3 so be sure to check for updates on your story, or you can ask me to tag you ^^ 

                          Beyond memory 

Part 1  

He had rushed to the hospital as quickly as possible. This couldn´t be happening. His heart was racing in his chest as he arrived at the reception, there was so many people around, so much noise all around him.

“Sir? Sir are you alright? Sir!” he was pushed out of his thoughts by the medical secretary calling him, he swallowed down, trying to ground himself in the present moment.

“Yes...yes I’m fine. I received a call, my wife got an accident, they brought her here, where is she?” he asked as calmly as he could, looking at the woman in the eyes.  

“Give me her name first sir, and I will need to see your ID please.” she replied with empathy. Joe searched through his pockets, his hands shaking as he handed his ID to the woman and gave her your name. He clenched his fists, he didn’t like to wait, he had to get to you, quickly, he needed to make sure you were okay.

“She’s still under care but I have the number of the room in which she will be brought, you can wait for her there.” she explained, he nodded to her as a thank you and headed to your room at a quick pace. He frowned annoyed by all the noise around him, it was so loud, he needed silence, he couldn’t think! Thankfully, he arrived at your room and closed the door, leaning his head back against it, taking deep breaths to calm himself, the noise wasn’t so loud here. Opening his eyes, he went to sit in the chair in the corner of the room, resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his head in his hands. What had happened to you? What were the extent of your injuries?

Suddenly, the door opened wide with a few nurses pushing the bed you were in and installing it next to Joe; a doctor came in, he looked at Joe from head to toes almost suspiciously. Joe sighed; he knew his look didn’t inspire much trust; however, he was in no mood for this, he looked at the doctor deep in the eyes, he better quickly tells him everything. And it seemed his look was explicit enough.

“Her car was hit by another; the driver was drunk and didn’t survive the impact. Your wife had more luck, she has a few broken ribs, nothing to worry about. However, she took a nasty impact on the head...fortunately she didn’t have any hemorrhage, we had to stitch the side.” explained the doctors, his hand pointing at your head, they had to partly cut the hair on the left side of your head to treat the wound, Joe clenched his jaw, you had such beautiful long hair, in which he loved to bury his fingers.

“Nothing to worry though, there should be no after-affect.” reassured the doc, giving a confident smile to Joe “We’ll leave you too alone, she might take a few hours maybe a day or two to wake-up.” he finished, feeling that Joe wanted them gone, he was grateful for their care but no he wanted to be alone with you, hold your hand as he watches over you.  

When they had all left, Joe brought his chair closer, taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips, he felt tears come to his eyes, it hurt him so much to see you unconscious, your whole body covered in bruises.  

He never left your side, he wanted to be there when you wake up, hold you in his arms and reassure you. He slept in the chair, his head and arms resting next to your hand on the bed, but you didn’t wake up, almost two days had passed, and you didn’t move, not one single muscle, not one single sound coming out of your mouth, and what if you never woke up? Joe kept asking the nurses, but their answer was still the same, they kept repeating how there was nothing to worry about, they didn’t understand how he needed you, how worried he was for you...

“Please Y/N you’re the only one I have left...” Joe wept, tears rolling down his cheeks, he looked at you pleadingly, hoping that you could hear him, but as usual you didn’t react, still unconscious.

A few hours later, Joe had been joined by your parents, they had taken the soonest flight they could get. They were on the other side of the bed, holding your hand too, then, your mother skirted around the bed, and gently put her hand on Joe’s back, she knew how much he was suffering.  Another long night passed where he watched other you, talking to you even though you didn’t respond, until later in the morning...

“Y/N you can do this, I need you.” he murmured with conviction, his chin resting in your hand, his eyes looking at your face with hope. That’s when he felt it, a twitch of your finger, he suddenly straightened up, quickly looking at your parents, making them realize what was happening, you were coming back to consciousness, he watched your face, you swallowed down, your throat feeling dry, you frowned, your head was pounding. You were hearing noise around you, voices, the grinding noise of a chair. Joe had gotten up to come closer to your face, his hands gently coming up to cup your cheeks.

You started to open your eyes, you wanted to know who was touching your face so softly. The light briefly blinded you, you blinked a few times to adjust your eyes to the light, you could finally see, but who’s this man? He looked rough, his long beard, his icy eyes, you felt fear grow in your chest, why was he touching you so intimately!?

“Y/N are you okay?” asked worriedly Joe as he saw you getting agitated, he frowned, what was the fear he saw in your eyes?

“G-...get away from me!” you whimpered looking at the man, your heart racing, your hand found the button to call the nurses. Your other hand pushed away his from your face.

“I... I don’t know you...!” you panicked looking around, your eyes landed on your parents, they were here, they will protect you! Feeling more awake you started to move to try to get as far away as you could from the man, who in the contrary kept trying to touch you.

“Y/N calm down...” started your mother seizing your face to try to calm you, but you couldn’t, this man, and why were you doing in a bed, in a place you didn’t know!? What was happening!?  

Suddenly, the door was wide opened, nurses and doctors rushing in at your call, you grabbed your parents to shield yourself; the stranger had a look of confusion and pain on his face, what was all this!?

“Sir, we’re gonna ask you to leave! Now” one of the nurses urged Joe, but he didn’t want to leave, there was something wrong, no he couldn’t leave you.  

“What´s happening? Why does she not recognize me?” he panicked, looking desperately at the nurses; a male nurse approached him, trying to push him out of the room, Joe struggled, he'd fight with the guy if he had too.

“Nobody kicks me out!” he growled at the nurse, grabbing him by the collar ready to give him a headbutt, the man lifted his hands in the air in peace.

“Listen man, just go with me outside, at the door and calm down. Let us check on her first.” answered firmly the man, Joe gritted his teeth, the nurse was right but it was just so hard he didn’t understand what was going on. Until the idea popped in his mind; what if you suffered some sort of memory loss? Then why would you remember your parents and not him? He paced in the corridor, trying to calm himself, maybe he was just imagining things. The doctor finally came out, he had a serious face, it wasn’t of good omen, Joe knew it, so he stood still, looking at his feet, waiting to hear the terrible truth.

“Your wife is suffering from memory loss, the shock apparently hit the left hippocampus harder than we initially thought, she forgot everything that happened in the past 2 years...” his heart missed a heartbeat, it felt so painful; what he had just heard, it meant you had completely forgotten him, he was a complete stranger to you, which explained your terror when you looked at him “I’m sorry Joe, there’s not much we can do, her memory could come back after a bit of time but I’m going honest there’s very little chances for that to happen.” added sadly the doctor, patting Joe’s shoulder, he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, the noise all around him was so loud again, he put his hands on his ears trying to make it go away, his heart was racing, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think!

“Fuck...no it can’t...I can’t...” he started to panicked, stumbling against the chairs in the corridor, falling down on the floor, his vision was blurry, it was all too much, no this couldn’t be happening, he was nothing without you, he didn’t exist without you!

“Joe calm down...” he felt the hand of the doctor on him, Joe violently pushed them away, he had to get out, he couldn’t stay there, he needed some air; with difficulty he got up and quickly made his way out, reaching his car, he entered in the back, locked himself in it, he rocked back and forth, his head in his hands, angry tears ran down his cheeks, he was fuckin’ happy and now all of this was taken away from him!  

“Honey, you sure you don’t remember anything?” asked again your father with a worried frown, your mother gently stroking your hand. You shook your head, feeling lost, how could two years disappear from your mind?

“I knew this man, am I wrong?”  you asked weakly, you felt drained, so many things had happened for the last few hours.

“Yes, you loved him very much...” answered your father, you fidgeted your fingers, feeling tears coming to your eyes as he confirmed your assumptions.  

As for Joe, he didn’t come out of the house, since what happened at the hospital, he spent most of his days in the bed you used to share, tightly hugging your pillow, burying his face in it, filling his lungs with your scent. He had lost you and he was the only who will remember all the moment you spent in this house, how many mornings you spent in each other's arms...Now he was alone, again. He will never see you again, he couldn’t; your terrified expression was engraved in his mind, he was constantly seeing it. And who knows, maybe you will appear at his door in a few minutes, remembering who he was? He tightened his grip around your pillow, he...

He jumped, startled by the ringing of his phone, who could be calling? He took his phone out of the back pocket of his pants and looked at the screen.

‘Incoming call Y/N’  

Comment below if you’re excited for part 2 and want to be tagged :)

@lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @skaravile @niniitta-ah

[oh-boleyn]

te para tres

words: 3805, language: english. jane & kat (kind of mom/daughter relationship)

author’s note: I wanted to keep multichapters on my ao3 but I actually kind of like this fic, and so I thought to post it here too! anyway it is also in ao3

tags: jane & kat - centric, kat is homeless, jane is trying her best, canon abuse/non con, tw abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Light Angst, pregnant!jane, sickness

part one: las tazas sobre el mantel

un poco de miel

They get into the apartment. Katherine is a mess, but getting slowly better. Her eyes are red rimmed for all the crying, cheeks puffy and crimson. Jane takes a moment to contemplate her. If she didn’t before, she certainly looks like a child now, small, curled up on herself, and young — so young.

Her clothes are obviously too big, hanging from her body. She is more than thin, probably what is expected from someone living on the street, but definitely not healthy.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Jane offers, fighting an urge to reach out to the girl.

“Yes.”

She puts her hands to use in making the tea, trying to calm the itch to touch the teen, while Katherine stands awkwardly calming her breath in the middle of the room. She doesn’t want to be alone, but at the same time is too afraid to ask for the older to stay with her.

Jane sets two mugs on the table, gesturing to Katherine to take a seat. She obeys, almost instantly. The long-sleeved shirt and a pair of leggings, catches Jane’s attention. If she still feels freezing with her coat on, the girl must be gelid.

“Are you cold?” She questions.

Katherine shrugs, without giving a proper answer. Jane doesn’t push for one. She extends a hand over the table, slowly, making sure to not overwhelm the other with the gesture. Surprise comes when the hand is quickly grabbed by Katherine, who starts crying again.

Jane moves forward and embraces Kat, letting her cry without trying to stop her. As expected, she is icy, and the future mother is growing afraid about her catching a cold or something worse. Searching for Kat’s bag, she realizes that the usual backpack is not with her.

“Sweetheart,” The way to call her comes almost instinctive for Jane, who hates herself for a moment thinking she might make Katherine uncomfortable. “do you have something with you?”

“I… I ran.” It enough for Jane to shush her.

“Would you like to take a shower?”

“Can I stay with you for a moment?” Katherine almost begs.

“Yes, as you wish, but you are going to get sick, so I will go for a blanket, would that be alright?”

The girl dissents.

“If we went for one, would that be better?”

She repeats the movement.

“I’m so sorry Jane.” Her voice breaks. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s alright Kat, it’s alright.”

They spend the night just sitting, drinking the tea that at some point lost its warmth, talking about trivialities. There is a stiffness in the air none of them can erase, and Katherine flinches from time to time, depending on a sound or a sudden movement. Jane gets Kat to smile at some point, which is more than what she was expecting.

The older woman thinks her words over time and time again, hesitant to not lose all the progress they made, but reluctant to just rely on it. She knows Kat is frightened, and she deserves to feel safe, but Jane is not sure how she can manage to do so. That doesn’t stop her from trying.

(…)

Next morning finds them in little to no sleep, with Katherine asking Jane to please go and rest. The older one does the same to her. After the initial unwillingness, the teenager agrees to sleep on the couch.

(…)

Katherine is confused when she wakes up.

She has a headache, mind foggy about last night's events. Memories don’t come instantly, and panic creeps in. The air of her lungs missing, she guides a hand to her chest. Kat is inside a house, but can’t remember how that happened.

“Kathy? Love?” Jane calls. “Breathe with me.”

She can hear someone talking, but can’t process the words. She can’t distinguish the hand touching her arm, nor the woman in front of her. Her body seems to not belong to her mind, and instead she freezes, but her breath remains hard and troubled.

When she snaps back, blue eyes stare at her.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters.

“It’s alright love.”

(…)

“I think I will be going, thank you for today.” Katherine says, but Jane stops her.

“You can stay.” She offers it before having the chance to really think about it. “You can stay here, at least until you get back your things.”

Katherine forgot it. Her bag was just left in the street, it was probably gone by now. It happened to have all her clothes and her toothbrush, and most importantly her art supplies. The money earned the previous evening was the only thing in her pockets.

The fear goes down her spine, even if Jane has just been kind to her, how long would it take for her to get tired? To stop helping? Nobody was just kind because it was the right thing to do. The world didn’t work around generosity.

“I don’t want to stay.” She snaps.

As soon as she said it, a part of her was sure it was a lie.

The apartment, even if scary, was great. It had water. Since they met, Jane gave her food regularly. Katherine was eating almost every day, as well as talking to someone. It felt like being back to being alive. Almost as if she was a person again.

“What if I offer you just a place to stay at night?” Jane questioned. “You can spend your day doing whatever you want to do, I won’t stop you, but you have to come here before dinner.”

Her voice is stern, the older knows she can’t take back the proposal once it’s done. The fear lays heavy on her, after watching the girl yesterday it only became worse. She doesn’t know Katherine, not at all. All she knows are trivialities, her liking for the colour pink and one or two stories about her past.

A part of her trust the teenager, maybe considering her too young to even be evil, or it could be just her own naiveté.

“What’s the catch? What do you want in return?”

“Nothing.” Jane is quick to say it. “But you will have to respect some rules, such as not doing drugs nor make anything that could cause us harm. I might ask for help from time to time. Outside that, nothing more.”

“I’m not a charity case for you to feel better with yourself.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Katherine toys with her fingers. “I just need time to get back on my feet, that’s all.”

“You have all the time you need.”

(…)

Jane notices Kat wakes up first, every day, without fail.

She just bolts awake, and when the older comes out of her room, she is usually resting on the couch, toying with her hands.

The first task Katherine receives relates to it.

Consisting on turning the TV on, and enjoying herself watching whatever she wants until the clock marks five minutes before Jane’s alarm. The teenager’s obligation is making the tea while Jane fixes something for both of them to eat, normally eggs, tomatoes and bread for the pregnant woman, morning sickness deciding it was the only plate she might eat without throwing up, while Katherine ate what Jane offered, one time even offering pancakes.

The second task is helping her before dinner, helping with the clothes for the next shoot. Katherine gets to keep some garments, which are gladly received after the lost bag. She never keeps anything that appears to be too expensive, nor anything that can’t fit in the new backpack she got from a charity, still Jane keeps it all, just in case Katherine might want it someday.

The third task she takes it herself. Katherine starts cleaning the dishes every night after dinner, just before moving to the couch. It makes her feel better, less guilty about living off Jane. She starts considering that maybe good things can happen to her.

(…)

Working is not exactly as great as it used to be.

Jane gets headaches at any given moment, and without having the capacity of just taking any pill to make them disappear, her work load gets heavier to do. She almost ends up mixing the light orange shirts with the sweet peach ones, what could’ve been a chaos if they did the shot that way.

Katherine’s well being still worries her, even if she spends more time in the house nowadays, she is still not living there, and she spends hours on the street. Jane is afraid that one day she might not come back, that something might happen to her, but she pushes through.

“Everything okay?” Anna questions.

“I am just worrying over Kath.”

“Whom?” Cathy interrupts.

“Katherine, she is a girl from the street who is staying with me at night.” Jane explains.

“That is kind, Seymour.” Aragon talks.

The three women stare at her for a moment, not knowing about their boss's presence.

“We will get back to work.” Anna says, turning to grab her camera.

“Girls, don’t worry.” Catherine makes a sign to Anna for her to return to the conversation. “How old is this girl?”

“Fifteen. She should be turning sixteen soon.”

“Oh, she is younger than Mary. Fifteen is a rough age.”

“She is a lovely child, still she doesn’t talk a lot.” Jane takes a deep breath. “I have been taking the extra clothes home for her, I hope that is not a problem.”

“It isn’t. God knows people in fashion think that wearing something twice is bad. As if!” Aragon offers a smile. “Gift her any extra clothes. But gift me the summer photoshoot.”

(…)

"Kat? Do you mind sharing the couch?" Jane asks, softly.

"No, why?"

"I am not tired, at all. Must be some second trimester thing. Do you want to watch a movie?" She proposes.

"Sure. Let me clean the dishes first."

Katherine moves from the table, taking the plates with her. Jane shifts to the couch, turning on the TV. She idles changing channels, settling on a movie that is just starting when the teenager comes to sit next to her. They stare at it for a while, without talking nor sitting closer, still it's comfortable.

"I think I saw this movie, but I can't remember." Katherine comments.

"Do you want to see something else?"

"No, not really. I like comedies." The teenager smiles.

Moving slowly, she rests her head on Jane's shoulder. The older one helped her settle.

Before she realizes, Katherine is peacefully asleep, snorting softly, more relaxed than what Jane ever saw her. It makes her consider that the girl practically looks happy, far from the haunted look she had the first time she got into the house.

That night, both of them sleep on the couch.

(…)

Katherine bites her tongue not to announce that it was her birthday.

Jane doesn’t understand why the teenager is acting so angry, snapping at her at any given chance. For the last week or so she acted different, strange. Almost getting in too late, and refusing to finish her food. She seemed to be anywhere else, not living in the moment but rather being in another world.

If it wasn’t because she found her crying just before going to sleep, she wouldn’t have known.

“Kath? Dearest? What’s going on?”

“It’s my birthday.” Katherine talks between sobs.

Jane gives a glance to the clock and grabs two coats.

“Wear this, we are going out.”

Katherine is afraid that it might be Jane’s way to kick her out. She changes as quickly as she can with trembling hands. She makes sure to take her bag, thinking if her new toothbrush is there.

They get to a 24 hours café, where Jane orders two pieces of cake as soon as they arrive.

“If I had known, we would have done this way sooner.” She smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were coming here, I was afraid it might be closed and didn’t want to give you false hope. But, cake is on it’s way. Happy birthday, Katherine.”

Tears are streaming freely down her face.

“It is the first time I hear it in three years.” She confesses. “I have been living three years as if I don’t exist. People walked past me and didn’t care. I was kicked out of stores, restaurants, malls. I felt like I have forgotten kindness, I hated this day and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it is easier this way, protect myself. I don’t want to be a nobody without a birthday.”

“Love, you are not a nobody. You are Katherine, the girl who sleeps on my couch and watches Disney before I am even awake. I am so fond of you; you don’t have an idea.” She kisses the teenager’s temple. “You are not a nobody for me, and probably for the baby in the future. I want you to stick around. Maybe next year you can have a proper birthday, what do you say?”

Katherine squeezes herself on Jane’s side, hugging her strong but carefully not to put so much pressure in the growing bump.

“Happy birthday, love.” Jane whispers, stroking the girl’s hair.

 (…)

One day, the older woman wakes up to quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. She arises from bed, careful. The couch looks like a mess, and one of the pillows is without its case.

“Katherine? Sweetheart? Are you in the bathroom?”

“Yes, I will come out in a minute, I swear.”

“Do you have clothes on? Can I come in?”

The teenager doesn’t answer, but she opens the door.

“I’m so sorry, but it’s just…” Her breath is heavy, and there are traces of tears on her cheeks. “I got my period, and I made a bit of a mess, and I don’t have pads, and- “

Jane shushes her. “Don’t worry, periods are normal.” She opens the cabinet, grabbing a pack of pads. “Here, use them, it’s not like I can find them of any use right now.”

She laughs, putting a hand slowly on her stomach. It is still not noticeable, but there is a swell that wasn’t there before.

“Clean yourself, I will bring some clothes.” Jane takes the pillowcase, and before crossing the door, questions: “Do you want a painkiller?”

“Please.” Kat begs.

When she is left alone, the teenager starts getting into the shower, feeling warm water on her skin. It’s the first time she decides to have a real shower. Most of the time she cleaned herself as best as she could, trying to not take her clothes away in case someone spied on her, but Jane proved to be trustworthy, hence why she was slowly relaxing.

The truth was that Jane could also kick her out any day, so she shouldn’t fall into fully relaxing. Turning sixteen meant more chances to find a job, trying to have money for herself. Still, no one wanted to hire a girl without studies or even a fixed address. Katherine trusted herself, she had been living and passing by for most of her –if not her whole— teenage life.

Hearing a knock on her door, she lets Jane come in. The curtain of the shower covering her.

“I left you some clothes, I think those should fit you well, Cathy gave them to you.” She makes a pause. “I also left underwear, it’s new, I have some more in my wardrobe in case wanted or needed.”

Katherine hears the door click, and slowly goes out of the shower.

There lays new underwear, including a black sports bra. Also, a pair of leggings, a shirt and a bright pink pullover. She quickly changes, making sure not to leave a wet path behind her, and cleaning any chaos she might’ve left behind.

Jane is in the kitchen, waiting for her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be, periods are just natural.” Jane says. “How long does your period last? Do you want me to buy you more pads?”

Katherine twitches her nose. “I don’t know, it’s my first period.”

Jane frowns.

“Living on the street meant not eating every day, I once spent four days without eating. A lady told me that might be the reason I never got my period. She gifted me pads, but they stole that backpack not long after.”

“I will just say, periods are gross, and painful sometimes. I’m here if you need me, even if I am luckily not having my periods for some more months.”

The way Jane laughs helps Katherine to relax, falling into the comfortable house they have started to build. It was strange, that knowing each other for a couple of months they felt like they belonged. A familiar feeling, as something long lost.

(...)

"Katherine, do you have something to do today?"

"I was going to try and get some money, you know singing. I need to get my art stuff back, people pay more for that rather than any singing I can do." She explained.

"I will pay you if you help me grocery shopping." Jane offers.

"No, don't pay me. I'll go but don't pay me, you are doing enough already." Katherine says. "When are we going?"

"I will change clothes first, are you ready?" Jane questions.

"Yeah, sure."

They get to the store not long after, deciding on going with public transport instead of taking a taxi.

Katherine can feel her anxiety building up. Walking through the entrance is dreadful, something she clearly doesn't want to do, but Jane is talking so happily and carelessly that the idea of running away makes her feel guilty.

She pulls through it. Nobody asks her to go away, instead they are nice. When Jane asks where the sugar aisle is a man smiles and offers to take them there. People are not surprised or disgusted by her presence like they usually were, they just don’t care. Not in a bad way, but rather a normal one. Not like she is invisible, but as she is an equal.

They pass through an aisle with lots of hair products, and Katherine stares at it for a moment.

“Do you want hair dye?” Jane questions.

“No, thank you.”

“You sure? I love weird hair color.” She gives an attentive look. “Look, they have fuchsia! It would look so good on you.”

“Really?” Katherine looks unconvinced, but the idea tempts her.

“Yes! Really.” Jane picks it. “I can dye your hair today when we get home. What do you think?”

Katherine nods.

Her anxiety driven day ends up with both of them in the bathroom, reading how to apply the dye while eating the cookies they got from their trip back. For a night, she gives herself the opportunity to just be a teenager, caring about her hair and looks.

It feels good.

Being with Jane feels good.

(…)

“I don’t want to go there.” The teenager protests.

“But they can help you, they have programs to go back to school.”

“Those places are dumb, and you are dumber if you think I am going.”

Katherine was being impossible.

Sooner or later she had to start planning her future, a future that didn’t involve living on the streets, but when bringing back any organization that might help, the younger refused. Didn’t even want to check the websites, nor talk about it.

Was her baby going to be so stubborn?

“Why? Please, just give me a reason.” Jane begged.

“I don’t like those places; I went to most of them. They offer help but don’t have anything.” Katherine explained, voice growing lower. “I went there for the first few nights, and it was horrible. If you are not there really soon, they no longer have beds. And older teenagers are more used to being on the street, they take advantage and…” There were tears in her eyes. “I don’t like it. Don’t send me away.”

“I won’t.”

Katherine released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“I won’t send you away Kath, I just want the best for you.” Her voice is sweet, soothing. “I know you are brilliant, and would do great in school.”

They stay in silence.

Katherine’s mind is reprimanding herself for what she said. Jane always had a family, a place to live. She didn’t understand at all what she was going through. How many times her things got stolen to the point she almost didn’t care when it happened again. How many nights she stayed up, afraid of any men walking on the street.

Jane didn’t know about Thomas, how he took her to his apartment, and made her sleep on his bed. Didn’t know about Francis, about last summer at her step-grandmother’s house. Didn’t know about Manox, about his music lessons.

She knew the older woman was trying her best, which was more than what any other person tried to do.

(…)

“You haven’t told your family?” Katherine questions.

Jane shrugs, finishing eating her lunch.

Today was her fifth month checkup, and they decided to have lunch together until the older had to go. Feeling at ease with each other was slowly getting more common. Starting activities such as watching movies or cooking together helped with their relationship, to the point Katherine almost considered Jane as a mentor.

“I wanted to wait, pregnancies before three months can be considered as risky ones. I was afraid I might lose it.” She explained, guiding a hand to her stomach. “But now I just fear their reaction.”

The teenager goes slightly pale, her eyes inspecting Jane before she asks: “Would they hate you?”

“No, they won’t. But I don’t think they would be happy either.” She makes a pause. “Do you want to come with me?”

Katherine eagerly nods.

[theshadowspecter]

Nuisance

(Bloom: I need to keep leaving notes at the top so I can add a line break under this. Death is only assumed in this one, but I think for future chapters I’ll just tag it instead of commentating on it. Also I can’t draw boats.)

Abigail awoke to sunlight pouring through her window onto her face. She sat up, the paper she had been using as a pillow sticking to her cheek. She pulled it off, glancing it over. It was a list of things she had to do, and a few notes to think about while devising her next trip to Subcon. Her to-do list comprised of meeting with the Mafia Boss and telling him the bad news about the fellow Mafia man, meeting with the Conductor to tell him the bad news about the owl, and manage to convince not 1, but 2 others to follow her into the forest. And once they were in Subcon, she would have to find a way to deal with those...those beings that worked for Snatcher. At the thought of the shadowy specter, she remembered what he had said the first time they met, 'THERE USED TO BE SEARCH PARTIES'. An idea forming in her head, Abigail quickly left, headed for Mafia HQ.

“And just where have you been? And where is the one who went with you?” The boss wasted no time interrogating her the moment she arrived in his throne room. She squared her shoulders; the Mafia boss was intimidating, sure, but next to Snatcher his temper was almost laughable. She wasn't afraid of speaking up to him, “I've been in that forest you said I could go to. We got separated, and I've spent most of my time trying to find him. Those woods are very dark and very big, so eventually I had to give up and come back, which I did, last night.” She lied. But what did it matter? He wouldn't have believed the truth, that's for sure.

The boss, who had gotten off his throne to scold her, sat back down to think. “This is not good, a Mafia member lost in those woods...he is not the first.”

This was Abigail's moment; she approached the Boss, “why don't we send a search party out? Just a small one? Me and, oh, maybe 2 other mafia?”

“You want to go back?!” The Boss all but shouted, “That forest has claimed many of my men!”

“What about me, then?” She argued, “I made it out!”

Silence followed as the Boss pondered this. Abigail stared him down, waiting. Finally, the Boss nodded, “I will give you 1 last chance. Go back to the woods and find him. However,” he held up a finger, “you may only bring 1 other Mafia member with you. And it shall be 1 that I choose!” Abigail gave a slight bow, “understood,” and walked away.

'That didn't go nearly as bad as I thought it would!' she thought. Knowing the Boss, she would probably find her 'search party' waiting outside her home either tonight or tomorrow morning. She considered going to Dead Bird Studios and dealing with the Conductor, maybe doing the same song and dance and getting another Express Owl to join in, but ultimately decided against it. It was risky enough going back with even 1 extra person. Getting a jump on learning some history was not worth risking the lives of these people. If it weren't for the contract, she wouldn't even be bringing others in the first place! That reminded her, she had to come up with some way to keep both Snatcher and his...entourage at bay long enough to mark her progress on the contract and get the Mafia man she was bringing with her out of the woods alive.

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

It seemed like in no time at all, Abigail was back on her speedboat, Mafia man in tow, with Subcon on the horizon. She had a plan on how to evade the forest's inhabitants...or at least not alert them to her accomplice. Once the boat pulled up on the outskirts of the forest, she tied it up but halted the Mafia. “You stay right here, ok? I'm going to retrace my steps to where I last saw Mafia, then come back for you. I need you to stay here and guard my boat.” The Mafia gave a gruff nod, and she took off at a brisk pace deeper into the woods.

'This had better work,' she thought to herself as she retraced her footsteps. She had hoped that the smaller beings, and maybe even Snatcher himself, wouldn't go into direct sunlight. Subcon was in perpetual night, after all, so it made sense. The crackle of fire interrupted her thoughts. It was either more fire spirits or...”the firewall,” she gasped, coming across the beginnings of it. Her latest contract, just like her initial one, had said she was to stay inside the firewalls, so that must mean these lead to Snatcher's home. Perfect! She broke into a light jog, adrenaline and anxiety fueling her need to get to the middle of the forest as soon as she could...

She came upon the clearing with the giant hollowed tree much faster than she had anticipated, and she paused to catch her breath. From her viewpoint, the interior was blocked from view, so she cautiously approached, unsure of what to see. When she finally was able to glance in, she paused. Snatcher was there, right there. He looked...either slightly smaller or just less intimidating, and he was curled up on a big red chair, deep into a book. She nervously knocked on the side of the tree, hoping he wouldn't get mad being interrupted from his reading. “HMM?” he said, looking up from his book, “OH. IT'S YOU. WHAT BRINGS YOU BACK HERE SO QUICKLY? DON'T TELL ME YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER SOUL LINED UP FOR ME ALREADY?”

“First of all, my name's Abigail, a-”

“YEAH YEAH AND I'M SURE THAT OWL FROM YESTERDAY HAD A NAME TOO. BUT GUESS WHAT? I DON'T CARE. NOW DID YOU BRING ANOTHER VICTIM WITH YOU OR NOT?”

“I brought somebody with me, yes, but he's waiting back a ways for me to return. Said he was too scared. So I figured I'd tell him to wait, come find you, go back to him to tell him all is good, lead him right to you and...well...” she trailed off. “WOW. I'M ACTUALLY SORT OF IMPRESSED! WHO KNEW YOU COULD BE SUCH GOOD BAIT!” “Yeah yeah,” she waved it off, “but before I go I was hoping you could mark that part of my contract off? I'd rather not stick around for...what you've got planned...” “SURE THING!” the specter cheerily obliged, snapping his talons. She pulled the contract out and saw a little tally mark.

She started to leave before Snatcher stopped her, “I'VE GOT TO WONDER, WHY DID YOU COME TO MY FOREST IN THE FIRST PLACE?”

She looked back at him, “to learn about its history.”

“YOU COULD'VE JUST READ A BOOK.”

The history nerd in her started speaking up, “The history I want to learn about isn't written in books. Subcon's history ends with the last Ice Age. I was simply curious why nobody had tried to claim the land and fix it. Also why there were so many disappearances.” She paused, “well...you're the reason for the disappearances, but why is Subcon still like this? Why is it still so dead, even though the air is ripe with magic? There's a huge gap in the history of this forest, and I'm just a curious girl with a passion for history.”

“YOU'RE MORE LIKE A NUISANCE.” Snatcher thought for a moment, “TELL YOU WHAT. BRING AT LEAST ONE MORE VICTIM INTO MY FOREST, AND I'LL TELL YOU A LITTLE BIT ABOUT ITS PAST.” Abigail's eyes lit up, “really?!” “THINK OF IT AS AN INCENTIVE! THAT SHOULD GET YOU BRINGING OTHERS IN AT RECORD SPEED!” Abigail couldn't help but grin as she started to turn on her heel when she stopped, “wait a minute!” she spun around, “I know your game.” Snatcher froze, looking at her questioningly. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out her contract. Giving him a smug look she stated, “I want that in writing. An addendum.” Snatcher gave a small laugh, “OH YOU ARE A NUISANCE! VERY WELL!” He flicked his hand and an addendum appeared on the contract stating that after the next delivery of a soul into the forest, Snatcher would tell her a bit of Subcon history. “DON'T EXPECT ANYTHING FROM WHEN PEOPLE WERE ALIVE,” he added, “I DIDN'T ARRIVE IN SUBCON UNTIL AFTER THE...INCIDENT.” He said the last word with a bit of anger. Abigail took pause to consider what that meant, before tucking it away to consider later. Instead, she gave a nod, “understood,” and left.

On the way back she remembered she had wanted to know more about those small creatures, but decided she could just ask him the next time they met.

All seemed to be going well....at least until she got back to where she had left the Mafia man, and found the place deserted. Her boat was still where she had left it, but no Mafia. 'No, no!' She thought 'I'm so close! Where could he have gone?'

Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of one of those hooded figures. “The boss says not to worry, he found your friend.” Abigail felt like her heart sopped. “D...did you know where 'my friend' was?” The little one happily nodded, “yeah! We lead him right to one of Boss's traps!” “Traps?”, the girl questioned, remembering those vines that appeared when she brought the owl. The other nodded, “yeah, Boss keeps traps around. Don't fall into one, he hates when that happens!”

Making heed of the little one's warning, she began to walk back to her boat. “Well, I've got to head home now.” Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted back to her vessel and jumped in. Before she roared the engine into life, she took a glance back into the forest.

The ...'Subconite' was gone.

Once back in Mafia Town, Abigail decided to tell the Mafia boss about the disaster of a trip. He...did not take it lightly.

“Because of YOU, the Mafia lost two members! What do you have to say for yourself?” “I'm sorry!,” she pleaded, well aware of the two Mafia behind her, blocking her only way out. She continued, “if you want, I'll go back on my own and-” “NO!” The Boss shouted, “you will pay! Mafia!” On cue, the two brutes behind her went in for the attack. Luckily, she was able to move out of the way fast enough to avoid capture, as well as slip past them and back outside. She heard the Boss call out, “Mafia! Attack!”

Running out of the Boss's main room back into the main casino area, she saw the entire place up in arms to get her. Luckily, since she worked there, she knew of a back exit. She scrambled into the kitchen, out the back door, and out the back of Mafia HQ.. Taking the secret entrance gave her maybe ten minutes before the rest of the Mafia made it down to the main streets, and then the whole town would be after her! Nobody messed with the Boss, and now she was on his hit list!

Luckily it didn't take long for her to get to her little house. She burst in, grabbing her backpack and stuffing all that she could find and fit into it. Her notebook, camera, some of her favorite books and some clothes. By the time she left her house, she heard a Mafia call out “there she is! Mafia stop you!”, and knew she had overstayed her welcome. She sprinted down the street away from the mob, using her fear to fuel her adrenaline to get her down to her boat before she got caught. As soon as she saw her boat, she also saw about five more Mafia around the docks, though by the looks of it they were just boxing fish, so they hadn't heard the call to arms. Thankful for the Mafia's bad form of communication, Abigail jumped into her boat, threw the rope off, and throttled the engine. With a roar and a splash of water, she was off! Looking back at Mafia Town, she saw a few Mafia standing near where her boat had been. They had just missed her.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Abigail faced forward. She'd stay at Dead Bird Studios for a little bit, until things cooled down around home. With that matter settled, her thoughts turned back to the only thing she thought about lately: her contract. As her boat sped through the waves, she pulled out her parchment and looked it over again. A person a week...well, tragic as it was, that Mafia member did count for a whole week, so she had a few days to actually calm down and find a workable solution to this issue. 'No more deaths. Not mine, nor anyone else's! I'll beat that Snatcher at his own game!'

[awake-not-today]

Namkook The Gifted Hands / Psychometry AU:

Detective Kim Namjoon is investigating the case of a child disappearance. When the child’s body is found, Namjoon finds himself trailing a murderer.

During his investigation he remembers a run in he’d had with a graffiti artist one night, and the artwork he’d done depicting the scene in which the child’s body was found.

The graffiti which had been painted a month before the discovery of the child’s body.

Jeon Jungkook is a small time graffiti artist with a secret, the power to see the memories of any living thing he touches. He hides himself away from the world, ashamed of who he is, that is until he’s thrown head first into a murder investigation and becomes the prime suspect.

Part three of ?

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Namjoon didn’t say a word on the way back to the precinct.

What could be say? He'd failed her. He'd failed this child and he'd failed her mother. He'd made a promise he couldn’t keep, he'd lied to her mother's face. And for what reason? Did he really believe he could save her? She'd been there, she'd been waiting to be found. All he'd managed to do was provide a false comfort, only for it to be ripped away. He felt sick.

Even if he'd wanted to say something, he couldn’t. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, swollen against the roof of his mouth as he tensed his jaw. The sound of his blood rushing in his ears made him feel like he was drowning, overwhelmed with a hundred different emotions and not one of them good. He wanted to cry, to yell. He wanted to lash out at someone, anyone. Anything. But all he had was himself and Taehyung, and Taehyung didn’t deserve the backlash of his self loathing. At least Taehyung had tried to help, at least he'd done something.

Taehyung hadn’t tried to coax him into speaking either, a small gesture that Namjoon was thankful for. He feared that the second he opened his mouth that he'd break, crumble under the guilt of the lie that the girl would be fine. He closed his eyes, but only for a moment. The second his eyelids closed his mind raced with images of the girl, the sickening grey of her skin, her tiny legs and feet under the white sheet. Her smile in the photograph he'd looked at so many times over the past month. God, she was so young. Just a baby. Who could do something like that to someone so innocent? It was gut wrenching, nauseating.

“Hyung?” Taehyung’s voice snapped him from his thoughts and Namjoon turned slowly, finding the young detective looking at him concerned. “We’re here.”

Too lost in his own head, Namjoon hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped moving. He offered a smile, small, but it came out as more of a grimace, but Taehyung squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before stepping out of the car. Namjoon took a moment to gather himself, regain some control of his racing mind, and followed Taehyung into the building.

For once nobody made a joke at his expense, nobody laughed. All eyes landed on Namjoon as he entered, but this time it was looks of pity. Somehow that hurt more than being the precinct joke. Everyone knew how hard Namjoon had worked on this, everyone saw the black circles of exhaustion under his eyes as he spent day after day awake, refusing sleep just to work on finding the missing child. They knew, and they didn’t laugh. They felt sorry for him. He wished someone would laugh, just to make him feel grounded again.

“Chief wants to see you in his office, Joon-ah.” Namjoon wasn’t sure who'd addressed him, too busy focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. He felt tired suddenly, his body a dead weight as he made his way to Seokjin's office. Gently he knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for a reply.

“Joonie.” There it was again, the pity. He hated it, he didn’t deserve it. “How are you holding up?”

“Take a wild guess.” Namjoon sat himself in the chair across from Seokjin, resting his head on Seokjin's desk. He felt a hand run through his hair, a token of comfort that Seokjin had always offered Namjoon when things had been hard.

“You did everything you could, you know that don’t you?” Namjoon sighed heavily, sitting back up to look at his hyung. Seokjin smiled, reaching out his hand to poke at the black under Namjoon's left eye. “You’re exhausted.”

“Yeah.”

“Go home, Joonie. Get some sleep. We'll figure this out later, okay?” Namjoon shook his head, opening his mouth to protest, when Seokjin held up his hand. “No arguments. Get some rest, have a shower. Pull yourself together, okay? We can’t do anything until we get the initial autopsy report anyway.”

“I guess I could use a nap.” Namjoon mumbled, fiddling with his hands in his lap. He looked up, giving Seokjin the best look of gratitude he could muster, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you in a few hours, hyung.”

Standing up, Namjoon gave a small bow and turned to head toward the door. Just as he placed his hand on the handle, Seokjin spoke again, voice much quieter this time. Gentler.

“I’m sorry, Joonie. I wish I could have done more.”

Taehyung was waiting for him as he closed the office door, his head shooting up at the click. Namjoon walked to him, giving his arm a squeeze and starting along the hall, Taehyung trailing along behind him. “Could you give me a ride home?”

“Of course, hyung.”

As soon as Namjoon was in his apartment he slid down his door, burying his face in his hands as he willed himself to cry, to let out everything he'd held back in the presence of others. It wouldn’t come though, sobs trapped in his throat, suffocating. Choking. He took a moment more, leaning his head back to rest against the wood of the door, before pushing himself to his feet and heading to the bathroom.

Namjoon looked at his reflection as he stripped down, barely able to recognize himself. He looked worse than exhausted, he looked sick. He supposed he hadn’t really realized what he'd been doing to himself the past month, so many skipped meals and sleepless nights, running on fumes and cheap instant coffee. He'd tried, he really had tried. Seokjin was right, he'd done all he could. He'd followed every lead, every single avenue he could.

But it was all for naught.

He'd still failed.

Stepping into the tub, Namjoon turned on the shower and washed himself quickly, limbs feeling heavy as he raised his arms lather the soap over his skin. He sank down into the tub and just let the water run over him, and that’s when he cried. Silent tears streaming down his face, washing down the plug hole with the suds and his hopes he'd had of finding her alive. Namjoon stayed there until the water ran cold, stretching up to switch off the faucet as he got unsteadily to his feet.

The towel around his waist felt rough against his skin as he wandered through to his bedroom, pulling the curtains closed to leave his room as dark as possible. He didn’t bother drying off, instead crawling between his sheets and closing his eyes, settling into a restless sleep.

It was Hoseok who awoke him a long while later, a gentle hand on his shoulder to shake Namjoon awake. Namjoon groaned, rubbing his eyes as Hoseok chuckled, patting down the hair that had dried sticking up. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven.” Hoseok’s voice was gentle, but lacked the sympathy of everyone else. Namjoon was thankful for it. “I figured I'd make you something to eat before you head out. There's some pork and rice on the counter.”

“Thanks, Hobi.” Hoseok squeezed his cheek fondly, making Namjoon bat his hand away with a groan. He watched as Hoseok walked to the doorway of his bedroom, and the way he hovered for a moment. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joon. They had the best detective on the case.”

And with that, Hoseok was gone.

Swinging his legs off the bed, Namjoon grumbled as his back cracked loudly. He stood, throwing on whatever he could find and walked out to the kitchen to find the food there just as Hoseok had said, and a fresh pot of coffee. As much as he hated to admit it, Namjoon would be a little lost without Hoseok. Even if he did get Namjoon into trouble.

He ate quickly, packing some leftovers into a container to take with him. Namjoon wanted to get back quickly, knowing the medical examiner would have looked over the body by now. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he headed out the door and made his way to the precinct.

“Joon!” Seokjin was surprised to see him, he had assumed Namjoon would be taking the night off. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Namjoon answered honestly, sitting in that same chair he'd been in earlier. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk and motioning to the file in front of Seokjin. “Is that the initial report?”

“It is.” Seokjin nodded, sliding it over to Namjoon. Namjoon read through it quickly, a little relieved to see the crime wasn’t a sexually motivated one, “Namjoon, I have to tell you something.”

“It wasn’t sexually motivated, so some sick bastard just decided to murder a four year old girl.” Namjoon wasn’t really listening, flicking through the papers in the file. “I can’t wait to find this bastard.”

“Namjoon.” Seokjin put his hand down over the page Namjoon was reading, making him look up. Seokjin sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re off the case.”

“Excuse me?”

“Commissioner said you aren’t to work this one.” Seokjin looked almost as angry as Namjoon felt, rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “He said they’re grateful for all you did, but they can’t risk it after the incident last month with the pyramid scheme.”

“What did they really say?” Namjoon closed his eyes, waiting for the fatal blow to his ego.

“They said you're a liability, Joonie.” Seokjin's voice was quiet. “I tried. I really did.”

“So who's working it? Who's the lead?”

The silence was enough, Seokjin looking down guiltily. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“The commissioner requested Gwon lead the case.” Namjoon took a breath, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to remain calm. “You need to hand him all you have on the case.”

Seokjin yelled out to him as Namjoon sprang to his feet, slamming open the office door. He was angry, beyond furious. Gwon. Fucking Gwon. Of all the people to work the case, it had to be that bastard. Namjoon stormed to his desk, scooping up his file on the girl and made his way to Gwon's desk, slamming the files down.

“You said it wasn't a kidnapping.” Namjoon's voice was low as he stared down the detective smirking back at him. “You said the case wasn’t fucking important.”

“What are you going to do, Namjoon? Hit me?” The mocking tone in his voice had Namjoon clenching his fist, but Seokjin's hand wrapping around his wrist stopped him from swinging.

“That’s enough. Gwon, get down to the medical examiner's office and see what you can find out. Namjoon, either go home or get some work done.”

Namjoon chose to stay, knowing he'd end up drinking himself stupid if he went home. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. This was his case, he didn’t give a fuck what the commissioner said. Namjoon was the one who searched for this girl, Namjoon was the only one who tried to find her.

Namjoon would be the one to find whoever killed her.

Taglist:

@yoongi-bearr @triheartedhero @doriadoo

[looselucy]

Twenty Eight - H

Harry’s point of view. I had missed the feeling of waking up beside Anna Black. I had missed the feeling of just being with her.

In the week where I moved into her flat, I grew more than accustom to her company, more than accustom to waking up and knowing she was going to be there with me. The tour bus and hotel rooms began feeling bare after only a few days. I fucking loved waking up next to her again. I quietly watched her sleeping, my mind still fried after what had happened the night before. I knew there was quite a bit of time before she would stir herself, and I took that time to think about my actions. What I’d done, what I should have done instead. I turned on my side, watching her intently. It was nice seeing her totally calm in her slumbering state. She hadn’t been having the easiest time of recent, and no matter how she tried, I could see how tense it had made her. Seeing her sleeping made me feel happy for her, she was in a state of calm, even if it was just for a while. As much as I wanted to wake her and enjoy her company once again, I wanted her to be peaceful for herself, more than I wanted to have her to myself. I placed a kiss to her forehead, before slowly and quietly removing myself from underneath the sheets, sleepily wandering over to my suitcase and throwing on a pair of sweatpants. I stood at the end of the bed and watched her for another minute or so, smiling down to her frame, before removing myself from the hotel room, quietly clicking the door shut behind myself, then making my way down to Louis’ room. We had an entire hotel floor to ourselves, that way we didn’t have to worry about anyone bothering us, or any extreme fans finding our rooms. The hotel wouldn’t even allow people on our floor, and it gave us a sense of ease. Before I even reached Louis’ room, the door before his opened, Zayn popping his head out and looking at me. “Morning.” I yawned, cracking my neck. He tilted his head, signalling for me to join him inside his room. I quickly did, stepping inside to see it was just him there. “Just wanted to see how you’re feeling?” He began. “I’m okay.” “Last night got a bit...” He trailed off. “I’m sorry, man.” “Why are you sorry?” “That you had to calm me down. I lost it.” “Mate, if I saw someone acting like that with my missus, you’d have to do more than calm me down. I get it. You don’t need to apologise.” I nodded, hating even thinking about how out of hand things had gotten, how that boy had spoken to her and grabbed her. Everything just switched so quickly; one second, I was dancing with Niall, the next I saw him push up to her body, her eyes seeming threatened by his movements. The anger I felt was gut-wrenching, simply witnessing him try to corner her, touch her. She isn’t fucking his to touch. I wished I could have knocked him to the floor. I wished I could have taken him down, but there would be a story about that without a doubt. With nobody really being hurt and us being in such a private venue, I doubted anything would come of it, it would remain between those involved. But fuck, I wished I could have punched him and have nothing come from it other than total satisfaction that the prick got what was coming to him. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to shake the thought of his smug face, trying not to get riled up again. “Management think she’s trouble.” Zayn spoke lowly. “I know they do.” I sighed, running my tongue across my teeth. “I’m working on it. The article about those pictures is out in the UK today. I think everyone can have… some sympathy there. Well, I hope so. I think people will understand how she actually feels about those pictures. That’s one step closer to them realising she’s not trouble at all. She’s actually… really sweet, y’know? I know she might not seem it, but-” “Nah, I can tell.” He nodded. “Once you get to know her… she’s not anything like what they make her out to be. She’s really nice, Harry. I kind of didn’t know what to expect when you said you had a girlfriend.” I laughed a little, chuckling to the floor as I thought about where Zayn’s mind may have gone when he thought about me having a girlfriend. Their views were skewered enough thanks to what happened with Kate, but as well as that, it was me. I avoided relationships, I avoided girls who wanted to relationships, the whole thing used to make me feel sick with fear and dread. I bet he thought I would show up with some girl who was clearly there for all the wrong reasons, on her part and mine. I was more than happy with how well they had all reacted to her. They all really liked her, and that meant a lot to me. “Besides,” I started. “Alex said he’s going to sort out some kind of behind the scenes thing for her when they do another video, so people can see what she’s actually like. If she wants to, that is.” “You care about her a lot, don’t you?” “You’re only just noticing?” I laughed. “I just never know what to expect from you, man.” He smiled. “I didn’t expect it myself to be honest, but she’s… I’m hooked on her.” Zayn quickly took me in for a tight hug, patting away at my back. I knew they were all happy I had found someone, that I had eventually met someone who made me happy, that I was no longer just flitting from one girl to the next, feeling nothing. I was grateful for her too. She made me feel something I didn’t think I would, something I thought maybe I could never feel. I had described her as a vision before, and I firmly stood by that comment. That was honestly how I saw her, this beam of burning light that had blinded me but made every other sense heighten. Her touch, her taste, her smell, the sound of her voice. I was infatuated with everything about her, and it was increasing with each passing moment. Zayn pulled away from me, giving me a firm nod. “I’m glad you’re alright.” He said. “I’m fine. M’gunna go speak to Louis, so I’ll see you later on.” We said our goodbyes swiftly before I left the room again, shutting his door behind me. I stood there in the hall for a second, not quite sure where my mind was as I thought about her. I often lost my train of thought when she crossed my mind. I moved along, next knocking on Louis’ door. “HOLD ON!” I heard from inside. I laughed and shook my head, hearing him stumble about inside as he dressed himself or something along those lines. Soon enough the door was swung open, Louis stood ahead of me looking absolutely exhausted. “Alright, angry boy.” He pestered, stepping aside and letting me in. I moved across his room, sitting in the chair beside the window and looking up to him with an apologetic smile. He rolled his eyes at me, going to sit on the end of his bed, waiting for me to speak. “I didn’t mean for last night to get so out of hand.” I mumbled. “I know you didn’t, but that guy was an arse. I chose to start on him, Harry, you don’t need to apologise.” “But if a story comes out, they’re going to pin it all on you!” I screeched. “You think that was managements idea?” He laughed. “You’re an idiot, Harry. That was totally my idea.” I looked to him with furrowed brows, wondering what he was talking about. He was amused by my baffled state, chuckling under his breath. “Louis?” I said firmly. “People aren’t going to believe some bullshit story about me starting a fight over a girl. The papers would lap that up if it was about you, it’s totally different with me. I have a girlfriend, they don’t attack me in the way they attack you. Of course it was my idea to take the fall.” It was big of him to do that for me. Even standing up to our management was a task in itself. Though what he said was true, it still said a lot to me that he would do that for me, that his name could be put in a bad light because I had lost my temper. “Why would you do that?” I asked. “Just makes sense, dunnit?” He shrugged. “Besides, I’ve never seen you as happy as when you’re with her. I don’t want management to fuck that up for you.” Sometimes I would forget how much I loved the boys. I would spend months with them constantly, and then on my breaks I just would feel like maybe I needed a break from them. I didn’t. They were my best mates, my brothers, the fact that I sometimes let that slip my mind was a quality within myself that I couldn’t stand. They had been there since I was sixteen, I had grown up and matured alongside them, and thanks to them. I was happy with the person I had become, and I literally had those four boys to thank for it. “Thanks, Louis.” I sighed. “Don’t mention it, man.” He smiled. “It’s not even worth dwelling on.” We both stood up, and I experienced my second hug of the day, having to lean down a little thanks to mine and Louis’ height difference. I told him once again how much I appreciated his actions, that I appreciated everything he had done for me and the other boys over the years. Louis was our rock, he had been ever since The X Factor days. There wouldn’t be a band without him, and we all knew it. He was the core of the group, the pull in the centre of us that made us work, the one who stood up for us when we really needed him to. So I continued to thank him, before stepping back outside into the hallway, sighing to myself. I moseyed back towards mine and Anna’s room, knowing that if she was still asleep I would finally want to wake her, beginning to miss her company already. She was my weakness. I figured this to be one of the biggest offenses and compliments. My Achilles Heel. She’d drawn me in with this initial idea that she was hard, dark, completely mysterious and utterly bewitching. But she was much softer than I had originally thought, kind and thoughtful and sweet and gentle. Dainty. I always thought of the word dainty when I thought of her. I wished she could have stayed, I wished there could have been some kind of convenience and ease with her tagging along for the rest of the European leg of the tour. But I knew it would only be just over two weeks after she left until I was back in the UK, back on home turf where she would be close to me. I couldn’t wait for it, to be honest. I quietly opened the door to see her still slumbering, the sheets tight around her body, like she was subconsciously gripping onto them, her fingers wrapped tight around the thick sheets. I wondered why that was, what part of her mind wanted to grip onto something, desperate to keep herself warm and comforted and safe. I wanted so much to be a source of happiness for her whilst she was in Paris with us. I had wanted to take her from the miserable state she’d been in and bring her some well-deserved happiness, but I felt like I’d done the exact opposite. She may have been good at covering it, but the truth was that Anna had been extremely sad of recent. Everything that had been going on was wearing her down. The articles about her that seemed to be getting more constant, the way she was perceived, the pictures that her ex decided he would share with the world. I really fucking prayed I would never have to meet him. I didn’t know what I would do. I crawled onto the bed, moving so that I was lying next to her, my belly flat against the top of the sheets, resting a hand under my chin, my elbow pressed to the sheets as I watched her for another couple of minutes. I was so incredibly fond of her, even without being able to see them, I knew my eyes twinkled a certain light whenever she was in my vision. I brushed at her cheek, stroking the back of my fingers over the soft skin. My heart thudded against its cage as she flustered. Even when she was asleep, my touch affected her body. Her grip loosened from the sheets, her lips changed their shape slightly, her skin became a little warmer and pinker, and she let out a heavy sigh. I am obsessed with this girl. I couldn’t control my lips as they edged closer to her, pecking her sweetly, but she still didn’t stir fully. “Anna.” I whispered gently. I ran a hand steadily through her hair, as she slowly began to wake.I loved seeing her in such a woozy state, caught between reality and her dreams. It prompted a certain memory, the time I had lifted her to bed, the evening after my mum had been around to visit me. I remembered it perfectly; watching her face intently, studying her reactions to me lifting her, how content she had looked. I knew that was the first time I ever thought she may have been special, the first time I ever felt my chest clench because of her. I remembered thinking fondly about the day I had spent with her, pondering over about how much I enjoyed hearing about her, how much she interested me. She left me a little speechless. I didn’t even know what I felt, I was baffled by her. That night, lifting her and pressing my lips to her forehead, I knew there was something between us. “Anna, wake up!” I smiled. Her lashes fluttered up, her blue eyes shining in the sunlight that beamed from outside. So beautiful. I didn’t even realise how wide I was grinning as she woke, her eyes looking onto my face as she shuffled, moving her woken body so she was comfortable. “Good morning.” I cooed. “Morning.” She groaned. “How are you feeling?” I asked, slightly concerned. “M’fine. M’good. I missed you.” She whispered. I moved to her again, taking her into a deep kiss, loving that she was awake to I could finally brush my tongue to hers. She took her small hands and ran one through the back of my hair, the other pushing to my cheek as I moved even closer to her, my body almost on top of hers as I pulled her closer to me. A thought suddenly crossed my mind that made me feel sick to the stomach, the fear forcing me bring the kiss to a bitter end, staring sadly down to her lips. “What’s wrong?” She asked. “Did I scare you?” “Wh-what?” “Did I scare you? Last night?” She kissed at the tip of my nose, making me hum in appreciation as I closed my eyes and let her comforts work their magic. “No, you didn’t scare me.” She reassured. “I know what I can get like, but… I never want to scare you, Anna.” “You didn’t. I’m glad you were there.” I moved to kiss her again, altering the sheets to reveal her beautiful body to me, swallowing the sides of her waist with my hands. She moved so she was on her side, lazily draping one leg over my hip as the front of our bodies pressed to one another. The more of her skin that was in contact with mine the better, I was always so desperate for her touch. I mumbled her name against her lips, almost like I was crying out to her, begging for there to be even more of her against me. I grabbed hold of one of her hands as we remained in a passionate embrace and made it so she was tracing down my back. She moaned appreciatively against my lisp. “I love it when you control me.” She grunted. I felt myself twitch, my dick beginning to rise for her. We had been with each other so many times, my feelings existed and grown for a few months, and I worried that as time went on maybe I would stop feeling so incredibly turned on by her and her being. But that wasn’t the case, I still thought she was the most sexual, stunning person I had ever encountered in my life. I was apprehensive our connection would falter, but it merely strengthened. All the fears that stopped me from wanting a relationship seemed non-existent thanks to her. All the things that I thought would make this difficult didn’t seem like issues. The only thing I hated was that I couldn’t constantly be with her. But the feeling I got when she got into the car the day before was indescribable, it was almost like it was worth missing her. “I love controlling you, Honey.” I spoke. “Tie me up.” She breathed. I cocked my brows and widened my eyes at her suggestion, bringing the kiss to an abrupt end, staring at her and waiting for her to speak again, just in case she had said it in the heat of the moment. I would never want to push her to do something she didn’t want to, because regardless of everything, she had such a beautiful sense of innocence about her. I was constantly surprising myself with how much I cared about her. “Honey?” “I want you to tie me up.” She said shyly. “Are you sure?” “Yes. I want you to tease me, and… and fuck me… and I want to want to touch you. But I want to be restricted.” I didn’t think I had ever wanted to pleasure her more than I did in that moment. I had never wanted her more. I was actually pretty sure I thought that every time the moment of us being together grew close, it always crossed my thoughts that I had never wanted her more. But hearing her speak like that, hearing her request that of me took me to another level. When she had first told me that she wanted me to be rough with her, she was so breathless and nervous. But this time around, she was slightly more confident about her request, and it was such a turn on. She bit her lip as she gazed up to me. “I’d do anything to please you.” I told her. And it was the truth. Anything she wanted, I would give to her. Anything she wanted. And she wanted me.

[toonerdyandiknowit]

Poppet

- You’d been in love with Sherlock Holmes. And wasn’t that just the worst decision of your life? - 

-When the Great Sherlock Holmes smashes your heart into a million pieces, you think you’ll never be able to get over it. But maybe, with some help, you’ll be able to get even? - 

Trigger Warnings: Some Mentions of suicide. (Please, if you feel this way, get help in any way you can. I’ve been there, and it gets better.) All warnings will be tagged.

"I trusted you!"

The words caught briefly in your throat, spilling out on a choked sob as you stared at the man you thought you knew.

You’d met Sherlock a little under a year ago, and his gentle nature and breathtaking intelligence had pulled you in. What had started out as friendship quickly grew into more, with the consulting detective taking the lead. Initially you’d been wary, you’d heard rumours...but you came to know the real man behind the fame.

So you thought.

Your whole body trembled as you looked at him, the man you'd thought could be trusted. Your arms crossed tightly against you as though that could stop the pain ripping through your chest.

"That was your mistake."

He wouldn't even look at you, the great Sherlock Holmes. He stared dispassionately out of the window, arms relaxed as he held them at his sides. His entire demeanour was cold and uncaring, though his eyes, when they flicked briefly to you, held a quicksilver spark that you’d only ever seen directed at criminals he was about to take down.

You knew he thought you were stupid, compared to him everyone was. But you weren't. At least, not as much as he thought. You knew him, his body language, his habits. That's why you let the argument die on your tongue. You knew he wasn't sorry.

His back was ramrod straight and a muscle in his jaw ticked, and you braced yourself for that inevitable pain to come. You knew him. You knew he wouldn't let you leave, not without telling you how he used you so easily.

A single sob punched its way past your throat, the pain of it causing you to hiccup as the tears finally began to relent.

"So trusting. I knew it the moment I saw you; the ease with which you gave out your smile, your laughter, how quickly you could be lured into conversation with anyone who gave you the time of day. So desperate for companionship that you'd sacrifice every facet of your personality if it meant that someone would just like you."

"That-thats not true." Your protest was weak, you weren't that desperate, not enough to give up being who you were...

"Of course it is. I've seen your browser history, your bookshelf. Anything I've ever mentioned having an invested interest in, you've researched. To make yourself seem smarter? Possibly, but my money is so that it would seem as though we had things in common, things that would make me want to keep you around."

You began shaking your head, staring at him. He hadn't moved, not an inch, yet his chest was rising and falling faster and faster as he continued. You knew this version of him, when he was following a thread of thought that was leading to a conclusive point, one that he was desperate to reach.

"The truth of it is, as you've discovered, I needed you for a case. Needed to get close to you so that I could get close to someone else. Your unwavering loyalty to your 'friends' meant that you were the perfect target. I needed you to get to Natalie, I needed to get to Natalie's work computer to find the illusive trail tying her to the distribution of illegal, experimental drugs. Drugs she sold to violent gangs, which these gangs then used to murder people. I needed an in."

He finally, finally, turned to look at you. And you wished he hadn't, the icy disinterest in his gaze killed you, as if he were looking at a stranger.

"And there you were. Lonely, lovely...desperate."

"Stop it." you whispered, backing away, towards the door. Perhaps he'd let you leave. You knew the killing blow had yet to be delivered, but perhaps, just once, he'd show mercy.

"I knew I didn't need to worry too much about a physical relationship, not right away at any rate, though we did get there. No, you're touch shy, something that was clear to me from the start. Happy to stand close, eager to initiate contact when intoxicated - probably also touched starved, but jumpy when touched whilst sober. Undoubtedly the result of some past abuse. I knew from scrolling through your social media that I was physically your type. I knew that being gentle and sincere would make you trust me, but maintaining my own natural aloofness would make you eager to earn my trust. You'd be drawn in."

His deep voice rolled across you, hypnotising despite its cruelty, despite the way he was eyeing you as if you were some mildly interesting insect under a microscope.

He began pacing the room, long legs making short work of the distance as he ran a hand through his long hair, ruffling it. The only sign that this was effecting him more than he let on.

"I knew that by reaching out to you regularly you'd conclude that I must genuinely like you, that if I was the one to always initiate contact there'd be no risk of you pulling away for fear of annoying me. I knew that after a few months if I turned up at your practice before closing, under the guise of waiting for you, you wouldn't find the act of doing so strange, in fact you'd find it sweet. After a few weeks it'd become so regular that you'd offer to let me wait in the staff room or an office, somewhere in the back of the practice rather than the public waiting room. This would allow me the access I needed to snoop through the files and computer systems, finding the evidence needed for my case."

You'd closed your eyes at some point, heart pounding against your chest as you listened to him explain in excruciating detail just how he'd used you. How easy it had been for him to manipulate you.

"I'll admit, I didn't foresee the practice firing you for letting me in, but that can't be helped."

Your eyes flew open. Though they still stung with tears, a new feeling burned its way through your chest. Rage.

How dare he use you.

How dare he stand there, he face blank, as if you were some stranger.

How dare he make you fall in love with him.

"You ruined my life." your voice trembled, anger and horror warring within you as you stared at him, his face an icy mask, "You ruined my life, for a case?"

"Don't be so dramatic." He scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning back to the window. You felt dismissed, but you knew he wasn't done. You knew that he knew how this would go, what you'd say. And you knew that the final word would be his, and that it would be devastating. You knew you should leave now, but you couldn't, you were helpless against your own emotions. Helpless to do anything but follow his script.

"I loved you."

His eyes flicked in your direction, and you searched them desperately, hoping there'd be some emotion hidden in their depths. There wasn't.

"I know. Just as you'll love the next person who smiles at you."

---------

You stared at your phone screen, finger hovering over the button that would send the message to Sherlock. Your note. Your confession. But like a coward you held back, knowing that once it was sent, it couldn't be unsent, and that if you didn't go through with it you'd look even worse.

And what if he replied? What if he replied before you jumped? What if he was cruel? What if he wasn't? What if he took it all back? What if he took it all back just to say he only did so to stop you from jumping?

What if. What if. What if?

He'd once taken you on a tour of his "secret London", all the places that could act as short-cuts, all the places that could help with clues. All the places that very few people knew about. You sat in one of those places now.

It was a tunnel, old and abandoned. It was almost impossible to see from the outside, unless you knew exactly where to look. You sat, backside going numb against the cold stone, your legs dangling over the edge of a small crumbling wall that lined the length.

The tunnel covered a river, a particularly nasty offset of the Thames. The narrow, winding tunnel held deep, roaring waters, and with no ladders, falling in would almost certainly be fatal. The cover meant it was never warmed by sunlight. And the force of it caused the current to be fast and strong.

You weren't crying now. It had been two weeks since Sherlock had ended things with you. Two weeks since he ruined your life and broke your heart. Nowhere would hire you, not with your previous workplace dragging your name through the dirt. Your career, everything you'd ever wanted, was over.

You'd thought about what he'd said, over and over. Was it true? Did you latch onto him because he was nice to you? Was none of it real, not even from you? Were you really a fake, who'd give up every little piece of themselves to get someone else's affection?

You didn't know anymore.

"Nasty fall, that."

The voice made you jump. It was soft, high in pitch, and almost mocking in a casualness.

"No-Nobody was meant to be here." You stuttered, stuffing the phone with its unsent text into your pocket.

"Ahh. Well, don't let me keep you."

The man was attractive, he sauntered over to lean against the wall next to you. Looking into the water below, he hissed through his teeth, face pulling into a grimace.

"That wont be at all pleasant. But oh well, its your life. Well...for a little while anyway."

You felt his eyes on you as you leant forward, breath coming faster as you watched the swirling mass beneath you. You felt it beckoning even as your mind screamed to move away.

"Or..." He sang, voice suddenly too loud. You jumped, nearly slipping into the water as you scrambled for purchase on the wall.

"You could get revenge."

"What?" You asked, frowning.

"Oh comeon! He took everything from you! Your job, your friends, your heart. Are you really gonna give him your life too?"

His chocolate eyes bored into you, his face losing it previously cheerful appearance to stare at you. His face was hard, unreadable, and almost...terrifying.

"I can help you." His voice was soft, light, it drew you in. You felt yourself leaning towards him.

"I can give you purpose again. And I promise you this...I will use you. But you will always, always, know I am doing so. I'll never lie to you. Together, we can watch the world burn around him."

You felt your heart beating wildly against you chest again, but this time with excitement. It had never, not once, crossed your mind that there was a way to get even with Sherlock. The idea of taking him on was ludicrous. But looking into this mans eyes, this man who reminded you of him in so many ways, made it seem possible.

You were surprised to find that you wanted it.

"Tell me how." You said, voice ringing with a confidence you hadn't heard in weeks.

As a smile stretched across his face, wild and insane, you couldn't help but match it with one of your own.

"First, I think you have a text to send, Poppet."

----------

- Body found in Thames. A body, identified to be [y/n] [y/l/n], was found on the bank of the Thames this morning. Though the damage caused by the water made identification difficult, dental profiles confirmed the identity of [y/n] [y/l/n]. [y/n], formerly a [Y/J/T] at a prestigious London [Y/J/N], was recently involved in a drugs bust scandal. The PI Sherlock Holmes used [y/n] as an informant to bring down several gangs, who were using drugs from the clinic, which were being provided by another member of staff at [Y/J/N]. [y/n] was fired after the investigation for negligence in regards to private information being leaked to Mr.Holmes. It has been reported that Mr.Holmes received [y/n]'s suicide note through text, but has refused to comment. -

-----

One year. It had been a whole year since Mr. M found you. Since he'd helped you fake your death and start over.

And oh, what fun you'd had.

In your time with Sherlock, you'd thought criminals were scum of the earth. But you'd been so wrong.

You'd never felt more free. It hadn't taken long for you to become Mr.M's right hand. Your innocent facade and eagreness to please - things Sherlock had mocked you for - were the very things that made you so valuable to him. You could infiltrate anywhere. You could learn enough about anything you needed to get by in any company.

Empires had fallen at your feet, and they did so whilst singing your praises as an employee and friend.

You knew Mr.M had been planning something, something big, just for Sherlock. Another thing you had in common. A total, all consuming lust to make Sherlock dance to your tune.

He'd never lied to you, like he promised. He used you, for things that often put your life at risk, but he always told you he was doing so.

You trusted him to be a criminal mastermind, ready to throw you under the bus at any moment, and he trusted you to get the job done.

Which is why you were here, cuffed to a table in the depths of Scotland Yard, waiting to blow some minds.

When Greg had first seen you, he'd hesitated upon recognising you. Precious moments that you could have used to get away, but that wasn't part of the plan. It would have been a waste of a hospital if you'd not allowed yourself to be arrested.

He'd not said a word, just staring at your in quiet anger and horror as you sat in the interview room. You were both waiting; you knew he'd called Sherlock and John. You smiled at him, and he flinched. You used the same smile he'd always seen you with; small, shy, head tilted as you looked up at him from under your lashes. Friendly and a little embarrassed. You held back the threatening giggles, your varying smiles were your best weapons, and you hit him point blank with that one.

The door opened with a clang as Sherlock and John stormed in, Mycroft following at a more leasuirly pace. They both froze at the sight of you. Alive, healthy, and grinning like a maniac.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes in annoyance as you sent a wink his way, you'd known he'd be livid that you'd faked your death well enough to fool him.

"Hello boys!" You sang. Just the way you'd rehearsed. The way Mr.M asked you to, because you both knew with those two words, Sherlock would know everything.

"How...but, you died  [y/n]. We saw...and the text...what..." Sputtered John, but you only had eyes for Sherlock smiling slightly as you watched him figure it out.

"Moriarty." His voice was exactly as you remembered, deep and rumbling. And for a brief moment you allowed yourself to feel pleasure at hearing it again.

"Got it in one, aren't you a clever boy?"

"You worked for Moriarty?" Spat John, horrified. You tutted.

"No John, I work for Moriarty. There is a slight difference."

"Tell us everything." Sherlocks voice was commanding, and you grinned while you shook your head.

"You know better than that, Sher." His eyes flickered at the familair nick-name, and you smirked.

"Ask me nicely." you crooned, leaning forward on the table to look into his eyes.

"[y/n]," said John, "We know how Moriarty works, we can help you get away from him..."

"And why would I wanna do that? Mr.M is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Mr.M?" asked Sherlock. It was a little disconcerting, the way he stared, the way he wasn't moving.

"Friends have nicknames, Sher. Remember? Mr.M loves it, we all have nicknames now."

"And what, exactly, is your nickname." Asked Mycroft. You knew he had a list of all of Mr.M's known associates. You also knew most of those names were nick-names with no physical descriptions.

"Oh, he's always called me Poppet. Ever since he found me on that wall."

Mycroft choked on air, staring at you with wide eyes.

"Mycroft?" asked Sherlock, not taking his eyes off you.

"'Poppet' is the code-name we found for...Moriarty's right hand. The problem with the senator in America? The House of Commons incident? The scandal in Africa? All of it was traced back to 'Poppet'."

“I don’t know about any of that. But today she...she blew up a hospital!”Greg struggled to get the words out, his face red with anger as it became too much for him.

He slammed his hands against the metal table, and you didn’t even flinch at the aggression in his eyes.

“Do you know how many people you just killed?” he spat.

“35.” You said. You tilted your head, looking into his eyes.

“20 minutes before the bomb went off, a fire alarm was pulled, and all but a few patients were evacuated. The 35 remainders were comatose, on life support, and just generally on the brink of death. I may be the assistant to a sociopathic, psychopathic, criminal mastermind, but I have retained some of my morals.”

Greg threw himself backwards, crossing to the other end of the room to get away from you. His face ashen and his eyes angry. You shrugged.

"That couldn't have been you..." sputtered John, "You're too...too.."

"Nice?" You ventured, "Kind? Friendly? Eager to please? Desperate? Stupid? Pick one." You giggled.

"All this time..." Sherlock muttered, "Why did he send you to get close to me?"

You stared at him in shock. Your eyes wide and mouth open. You couldn't believe it, he was an idiot...

So you laughed. Until your sides ached and tears streamed down your face.

"Oh you, you poor thing!" You sputtered, "He never sent me to you. I didn't know him until after you."

He frowned, and you sighed, deciding you may as well spell it out for him.

"You broke me, Sherlock. Your oh so precious case, the one you decided was more important than someones life? Ring any bells? You used me, and then you broke my heart. But was that enough? Oh no. Thanks to you, I was totally discredited, no one would hire me anywhere. I lost my flat, my friends, everything, because of you!" Your voice had risen to a shout, as you could finally show him what he did to you.

“And as for you two,” you turned, spearing Greg and John with a heated glare, “Judging me for what I’ve become? Really? Where were you when I was ready to jump? Where were you, my so called ‘friends’ when Sherlock tossed me aside? You were standing with him, staring at me with sad eyes, and then turning your backs on me too.” You spat the words, letting a years worth of bitterness out.

"I was done. I went to the tunnel without a name. I was sitting on the wall, ready to send you that text, ready to jump. When...he showed up. And made me realise, you'd taken everything from me, and I'd be damned if I was gonna let you have my life as well."

You sat back, rolling your shoulders.

"So we faked my death. And everything you saw as a weakness, he saw as a strength. Oh, compared to him, and you, I'm a barely evolved ape, but he recognises my intelligence, my loyalty, and he values it."

You flicked your eyes around the room, finally allowing your true face, Poppet, to shine through. The grin stretched your lips wide, your eyes danced with crazed mirth, and you speared Sherlock with your gaze. Tilting your head, you raised an eyebrow as you spoke.

"We've been planning Sherlock. The Great Game is only just beginning. And we are all gonna have so much fun."

[cartoonzgiggle]

Laser Tag Date - H2ONanners

For Melly. ♥️ @mellowdreemurr I hope you like this because it’s my first time publishing something in third person so I hope it lives up to your expectation, lol. I’m sorry I kept you waiting for literally ages but it’s finally here. :P

Prompt idea:

Even though it was Jonathon's idea to go laser tagging, it was Adam who was the most excited about showing his skills off in front of his boyfriend. All morning he had snuck up behind Jon, scaring the life out of him in preparation for their upcoming play date in the dark.

"Every single time!" Jon huffed but also with a whiny cry at the same time.

"Gotcha!"  

Adam was grinning from ear to ear as he carefully slid his hands around Jon's waist from behind. Scaring him was actually becoming a recurring thing in their relationship. It used to be Jon who scared Adam the most but the roles had now reversed and it was always Adam who was the culprit.

"You ready to get beat by the king himself..." Adam smirked whispering into Jon’s ear.

There was something about people whispering in Jon's ear that always made him feel giddy even more so that it was Adam being the one to do the whispering. He was not going down without a fight though. There was a reason why he suggested going laser tagging today. Jon wanted to prove he was just as sneaky and mischievous as his boyfriend who seemed to have taken the title away from him.

"Are you ready to get beat?" he sassed back.

"Oooh! You're feisty today. I like this side of you." Adam purred, squeezing Jon into a tighter hug.

"Feisty is my middle name! You should know that by now."

"Uh-huh... we'll see, we'll see, don't wear anything bright," he replied in a quiet tone, removing his hands from Jon and heading out from the kitchen.

***

During the ride over to the building where laser tag was held, Adam tried his hardest to get the scoop from Jon about his gameplay plan. Going as far as trying to flirt and use his charms to find out what exactly what was going through Jon's head. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to work this time. It was time for Jon to take back the title that was originally his

"So every man for himself then, huh?" Adam asked, tapping his finger on the headgear of the car as he watched Jon get out.

"You're not getting anything from me."

"Aw, you're going to do me dirty like that?! Oh, you watch out now, mister. I'm aiming for you specifically now."

The pair of them laughed at the rivalry they created. Deep down they loved each other unconditionally but this was all part of the fun. Neither of them wanted a relationship where the other wasn't interested in doing anything. They wanted an adventurous and spontaneous relationship and thankfully they found it with each other.

Jon took one look at Adam as they walked into the building. He had the biggest smile plastered on his face which only made Jon more ecstatic about this great idea. It seemed like it was a good day to go laser tagging as a bunch of other people from all ages was also lining up to get into the room with them. It would definitely be harder to recognize Adam now there were people his height and weight in the dark. But there was one thing Adam seemed to forget though. He was wearing a white band on his wrist which would glow up in the game arena. That was one thing Jon would be looking out for in the dark.

After they had paid for a few games, they, including everyone else headed up to the room where they had a quick briefing on the equipment and how to play for all the new people playing.

"Psst, you're going down," Adam said whispering into Jon's ear just like he did this morning.

Jon smirked and leaned into Adam's ear. "You'll be the one going down... tonight."

His response perked Adam up straight. His eyes widened like he was a proud boyfriend of what just happened.

"Damn, I guess we'll see what happens tonight then..." he cooed softly which ended with a wink.

"Loser has to do everything the winner wants for the whole day and night." Jon quickly added.

The request made Adam raise his brows in surprise. He was always up for a challenge since he normally won anything he tried. It was something he was always lucky with that frustrated a lot of his friends which is why Jon wanted to try and stop the streak too.

"Deal!"

"See you in there," Jon said while picking his laser gun up and moving towards the group of people heading into the room.

Adam couldn't take his eyes off his boyfriend and how confident he was with winning this bet. He wondered if he had a trick up his sleeve but quickly threw the thought out of his head. Jon was smart but he was clumsy too so Adam wasn't afraid to lose because he knew for sure, he'd be the only winner today.

When everybody seemed to be in a position, the doors slowly closed making the fluorescent lights around the room shine brighter in the dark. Whispering could be heard from people around the darkened room. Jon was hiding closer then he thought from Adam but neither of them could tell where the other was until the game would officially start.

The moment the loud horn blared from the surrounding speakers, that was when everyone had erupted into loud chatters, laughing and screaming. Adam sneakily used his stealth to shimmer around walls also hiding behind them as people ran past, completely missing him standing close by. There was only one man he wanted in his head and he was going to take full advantage of him when he proved to be the reigning king.

Jonathon, on the other hand, was shooting everyone on sight. He managed to get a whole bunch of people who weren't paying attention to their surroundings. Although it had been only about 5 minutes since the game had started, he still hadn't come across his competitive boyfriend yet. He knew that Adam would be sneaking around trying to find him though.

"Oh, Adam... you're not winning this," Jon whispered to himself as he slipped behind one of the standing walls.

He watched and waited as he saw people running close by but not checking where he was currently hiding. The one thing that he suddenly remembered was Adam's white band around his wrist. Nobody that went past him had anything that resembled the band yet which only made Jon a little more nervous than usual. Adam was definitely using his stealth for the bet they made beforehand and he wanted to win.

Adam was having a ball sneaking around and avoiding everyone just to focus on Jon. The adrenaline rush that came over hunting his very own boyfriend drove him more into competitive mode than ever. Once quick glance from behind one of the walls and he saw a few kids rush by but no sign of Jon. That was until he saw a similar slim figure that recognized the very man he was looking for.

"Gotcha..."

A smile grew three times his normal grin as he stepped out from behind the wall, taking the softest steps possible in hopes Jon wouldn't turn around to the sound of someone dragging their feet. This was it for Adam, he knew right then and there that he had won this bet.

Unfortunately for Adam, Jon knew he would take the bait and wouldn't immediately take the shot. Adam was the kind of guy to toy around before doing anything major, especially in situations like these and Jon used that knowledge to his advantage. He managed to get a glimpse of that white band when he came around one of the hidden walls, that was when he decided to use himself as bait. All he had to do was get in Adam's line of sight and it would draw him out and follow him until he got close enough. Close enough for Jon to swing his plan into action.

While dodging the other players as much as possible, Jon made his way to one of the corners of the play match arena, anticipating the arrival of his competitive boyfriend only minutes later. Less than two minutes later, Adam had waltzed around the wall and into Jon’s sight.

"I thought you'd make this a little harder for me... Looks like I'm the..."

"Wait, I need to tell you something quickly... Just give me a second." Jon interrupted Adam, grabbing the plastic vest they had originally put on before coming into the arena. Jon pulled him into the place behind the standing wall where it was just the two of them confined to small space.

The tone change in Jon's voice was enough to stop Adam from playing the game for a few minutes and to focus on him. He never liked hearing that tone from Jon and his initial instinct of "protective boyfriend" mode switched on.

"Look, I'm sorry..." Jon sighed, not letting go of the vest on Adam's chest.

Adam looked at him, confused to what he was apologizing for. Jon looked into his boyfriend's eyes and leaned into his lips. Their lips connected as one and at that moment, any feeling of pride and competitiveness left Adam as he felt incredibly swept off his feet by the one person he truly loved.  Who knew making out in a laser tag game would be a weakness to Adam.

Jon was the first to break their kiss as this was more business than pleasure. There was no way Adam knew what was happening right now. He was clueless.

"Can you forgive me?" Jon smiled, removing his hand from Adam's vest.

"For what, silly?" Adam responded with a tone of sadness added to it.

Jon looked down at the laser gun and let out one last sigh. "This..."

Before Adam could even react, Jon quickly put his hand on the laser gun and shot at the sensor on the vest. An evil smirk formed from Jon who slowly backed away, leaving Adam speechless as he witnessed his own boyfriend manipulate him to win the bet his own special way.

"Should have shot me when you had the chance..."