#the crying sure but the body language for maya too
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booasaur · 2 years ago
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Station 19 - 6x08
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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years ago
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Can u do a dad boxer!tom holland x mom reader were they have a 2 month old baby girl and she suprises him at his boxing match and he gets kind of upset because she doesn’t want the baby there for safety and the environment. And he opponent says some disrespectful stuff about the baby and reader and long story short Tom gets kicked out the ring . Angst but a happy ending 
ouuh yes! thanks for giving me some boxer!tom with dad!tom as a bonus darling 💞
slight angst, language and fighting under the cut
。・゚゚・ clearing my inbox… slowly ・゚゚・。
During his successful boxing journey, Tom finally reached his goal at being the youngest participant in his category thanks to all these endless hours spent at the gym. It finally paid off. Nonetheless he wouldn’t be here without you, his best supporter, who never got scared about his quite peculiar job and the first to treat his wounds after a match. You, the mother of his child, a two-month healthy baby girl. The thought of being a dad never crossed Tom’s mind but you gifted him with something he never thought he deserved. And here he was now, living from his passion next to the ones he loved the most because he wanted to give his family the best.
And tonight was the night. But he was really stressed.
Alone in the locker room, Tom sat on a bench while keeping his head between his hands, his boxing gloves resting on his thighs. It became his ritual before every match to get mentally prepared by himself, to get “in the zone” as he always said. Once done he stood to bandage his hands before putting his gloves on when he heard three knocks on the door before it opened.
“Ready, Tom?” asked his coach fully appearing at the door, hands in his jeans pockets.
Tom nodded, a slight frown on his face showing he was indeed ready. “Yes, coach.”
“Good. But before that, your little fanclub wants to see ya.”
The words from the coach confused Tom for a second, just like the grin he gave him right before slightly moving to the side, letting a very familiar figure make its way in the room. Tom’s face lightened up at the sight of you – as beautiful as ever with that candid and gorgeous smile of yours – and he got ready to take you in his arms to welcome the good luck charm kiss you always gave him before his matches.
“Babe! You made it–”
But he suddenly stopped, the words blocked in his throat, as he saw another presence he was not expecting to see at all. His smile instantly vanished to be replaced with one of confusion.
“What is Maya doing here?”
Maya, your two-month daughter. His little bubble of joy and pride. The baby was nicely wrapped around a white fluffy blanket to block the cold air from the place, a cute pink beanie poking out of it while she was peacefully sleeping in your arms.
You softly kissed your baby’s forehead then looked up at your partner, smiling. “Lily wasn’t able to babysit her tonight, so I just decided to bring Maya with me so she will cheer for you too. I also saw your mum in the bleachers, she kept a spot for us and–”
“Maya has nothing to do here, (Y/N)!”
Tom’s voice startled you, he never raised his voice at you. “B-But I thought you’ll be happy? I-I didn’t know you would be this upset–” You blinked a few times, slightly confused but before you could add anything else, Tom spoke again.
“That’s not a place for a baby, of course I’m upset!”
Again you got startled by his voice. Tom’s coach was still standing at the doorframe of the room, clearly uneasy at the scene going on in front of him, but decided to not say a single word since he had no right to interfere in his protégé’s private life. Still, a sudden tension rose and was obvious in the lockers.
You brought Maya closer to your chest, eyeing her down hoping she didn’t wake up. You thought you acted with good intentions, never thinking a second about upsetting your lover right before the most important match of his career. Your eyes diverted from Tom’s, looking down at your feet as your entire frame started trembling, trying your best to not cry by biting your bottom lip hard because it was not the time to make a scene.
“Fuck,” whispered Tom, finally back to his senses when he saw you shut yourself away like you often did during stressful situations. “I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”
He approached you with big steps, his arms gently embracing you and his daughter against his strong frame and proceeded to kiss your temples to soothe you. “Shhh, it’s alright, baby. I’m not mad at you at all, I love y–”
“Well well well, would ya look at ‘dis!”
Fuck, not him.
A baritone voice echoed in the hallway behind you, the sarcastic tone making Tom’s body tense as his look automatically fell onto the one person he didn’t want to see right now. Or at least before the actual match. His tonight’s opponent. Tom’s coach clicked his tongue while arranging his cap, hoping desperately that nothing would go wrong.
You turned your head towards the voice, Tom making sure to keep you and your daughter as close to him as possible, his hands tightening around your hips as he took a step back, bringing you with him.
“Tommy brought his lil’ family here!” the opponent said with a dirty smirk painted on his face. A simple glance at him brought shivers down your spine, applying a slight pressure of Maya’s face to hide her against your chest. You swallowed with some difficulties, your mouth now dry as you also felt tension invading your lover’s body. “Thought it was a friendly family show, boy? Want ‘em to watch how much I’m gonna destroy ya not even your lady will recognize ya?”
Tom’s jaw tensed and his coach had the good reflex to somehow peacefully step between them both, also trying to take you away from being in the middle.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give ‘er a go once I’m done with ya, loser. Gonna shag ‘er good like real men do–”
You were brought to the side with Maya by the coach just in time before Tom stomped his way on his opponent, almost jumping on his throat as he succeeded at punching him in the face the way he deserved it. Tom was seeing red, adrenalin invaded his body and boiling in his veins at such inappropriate comments made to you, the love of his life.
Before this could go even further, Tom’s coach and his opponent one quickly stepped in to separate and calm the two men. Insults were of course thrown at each other, Tom still badly determined to give one or two more punches to this despiteful human being but thankfully, his coach succeeded at holding him down.
Once all the chaos died in the locker room, Tom also calmed down then quickly came back at you, his body in desperate search for you and his daughter. He muttered so many “sorry”’s in your ears, his face nestled in your neck while embracing you against him. All you could do was hug him back, the harsh words from that rude man still resonating in the back of your head as a sob broke from your lips. Tom gently rocked you side to side, hoping to also soothe his little Maya who just started to whine lightly in her blanket. You stayed like this, the three of you engulfed in each other’s warmth until they called him to join the boxing ring, you and your lover exchanging words of love and encouragement in soft whispers.
But tonight, Tom lost the final.
All the stress he accumulated before the match didn't help for sure, but it was never your fault. He admitted it himself when his coach was treating and stitching some of his wounds back in the locker room. His opponent was definitely stronger than he was. Nonetheless the match promoted Tom in another way, still giving him good publicity as one of the best new talents in the boxing field.
After he took a shower, Tom wrapped a towel around his hips and got back to his locker to get fresh clothes when he saw you sitting on the bench. Aware of his presence you stood up, a worried look on your face and decided to wait for him to walk to you. You must have left Maya to his mum since he saw no stroller in the room. He opened his arms as he approached you then welcomed you back in his embrace, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist and still careful to not apply too much pressure to the spot he got hit on.
He let out a long sigh, this time more relaxed, and pressed a few kisses on the crown of your head. You looked back up at him, chin resting on his torso as one hand gently rested on his cheek to caress the bruise slowly darkening on his cheekbone. Your eyes locked with his in silence.
“I lost, I’m sorry,” Tom whispered before leaving another feather-like kiss on your forehead.
“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Your soft eyes appeased him, just like your big innocent eyes did. “I never intended to upset you, a-and I’m sure that’s why you lost tonight–” Once again your lips pressed tightly in a thin line to stop any sob to leave. “A-And you also got injured, I’m so sorry Tom, I–”
Tom interrupted you with a deep kiss – at first he wanted to give you a soft one but your distressed look pained him too much. He cupped your face in his still moist hands from the shower, making sure to not let you go. When you finally parted to catch your breath, your lips stayed close to one another, still bruising and sharing the same air.
“It was not your fault, baby,” Tom said while gently caressing your cheeks. “It’s my stupid ass to blame here. I got carried away by too many things but the worst was I almost made you cry, when I promised I would never. You and Maya are the most precious things in my life that I should protect at all cost and even if I lost the match tonight, at least I gave this asshole some good well-placed punches in his face.”
You slightly giggled at Tom’s cheeky comment, clearly to caml the atmosphere. He pecked your lips once again before you nuzzled your face against his still naked torso, the natural scent of his skin relaxing you.
“No one messes with my family, or death is what’s waiting for them.”
… I should write more angst 😂
Tagging some mutuals and cuties✨ @allegra-writes @queencharry @tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @thollandss @worldoftom @spideyspeaches @chaoticpete @tetralea @londonspidey
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mayrubyy · 5 years ago
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Fearless (m)
➻ Pairing- Baekhyun x Reader 
➻ Genre - Idol!Au, Privé!Bbh   ➻ Word Count - 1.6k 
➻ Rating - (M) 
Warning! this contains strong language and sexual themes - fingering, dirty talking and bbhorny stuff that are intended for mature audiences. Please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with the said themes and if you’re under 18!
A/N - this was brewed while conversing with my favorite neon babe @baek-byunies​ at 3 am back in fall. it was an interactive drabble and it’s got its tiny good dose of daddy kink and bbh’s privé velvety shirt, his sparkling audi and slender fingers. ;)
Tagging - @suhoerections​ @byunfirstlady​ (ily laure) @stolenjendeukie​ ♡
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Golden lights shimmered in the background as you stood by the pool. It’s deep blue and electric, mysteriously turquoise as if it were beaming with life. The ambiance is an extravagant myriad of lucent smiles in their milk and honey auras, bright flashes capturing their delighted causeries as they clinked their toasts. You’re elegantly dressed up for the event and he’s standing perhaps a few feet away from you. His gaze dithering about as the reporters surrounded him.
His dark orbs were ravenously fixed on you and he was licking at his luscious pink lips, biting down on them ever so softly. You meander away, through multiple bodies that were otherwise busy and swaying to jazz. The cocktail is doing its bid at driving him ecstatic as he follows in pursuit of you. Your hands soon clamp along the glass railing. It’s cold and breezy. The wind drifts through your hair and for a moment, you’re relieved you’re away from the suffocating snares and glares of the wealthy snobs. A breather, for you and the man behind you, for once.
“All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.” He rasps in your ear and his own slender fingers rest beside yours on the railing. His voice is husky, strained from the never-ending interviews. “How long are you going to make me chase you, princess?"
You look into the horizon ahead, the skyline is gorgeous as ever. The city of dreams glimmering in its otherworldly glow and a soft chuckle erupts from you. You flash your teeth at the man beside you in a wide grin. "What is it about me that you find so amusing.. that you decided to leave a horde of reporters behind?”
Baekhyun sneaks closer and presses himself firmly into you. His lips delicately press into the back of your neck and you shudder at the suddenness of the proximity. He further buries his nose into your neck and rasps, his voice needy and husky as ever. “What can I say? I find your presence quite intoxicating."
"Ever heard of primal instinct, sugar?” He continues peppering soft kisses to your exposed shoulder as his hot breath streams sultrily over your skin. The mere sensation from it sends every nerve in your body into overdrive. He then slowly trails upwards and nibbles softly down on your earlobe. It elicits a loud whimper from you and he quickly places his hand over your mouth and shushes you. “Shhh…don’t wanna get caught among the snobs now– do we?” He plants a few more kisses along your jaw before chirping in your ear again. “How about we take it from here to somewhere safer– or somewhere dangerous? You decide.”
It wasn’t long before you answered his question. His gaze was desperate and you were intrigued to experience the thrill he promised to offer you. And as you exasperatedly found yourself seated in his passenger side, you weren’t sure what was making it harder, his hand sensually gripping at your thigh or all the dirty things he wouldn’t stop whispering he would do to you. His audi zoomed through the expressway and his words had arousal pooling between your thighs. And you were nearly struggling to stifle your moans as he began trailing soft circles with his thumb onto your skin.
“I want to ruin you, baby. You’d let me, won’t you?” His breathing was ragged as he cooed, eyes stygian and dark, darker than the pits of the abyss. You knew Byun Baekhyun was a fearless man but this was all rather overwhelming. You couldn’t help but think about how your night at the Privé Alliance Fashion Launch would turn out like this. You were one of the vips. A New York Times bestselling writer who’d made it big only recently. And, never would you have expected for things to escalate so quickly like this.
But, here you were.
You’d hoped Baekhyun would take you straight to his suite. Wrong. He made a sharp turn and entered the expressway that lead out of the city. “Mr. Byun… that’s-,” you tried to question where he was taking you but he cuts you off immediately. “I’ll keep you safe. Don’t worry princess.” It was all that left his juicy lips, a playful sneer curving wickedly on them.
When his audi finally came to a halt, Baekhyun caressed your inner thigh, his lips were slightly parted before he dropped a quick question. “Are you dripping? because fuck baby.. I can almost smell your arousal from here.” You gasped as his slender fingers slithered along your thighs and trailed between them to stop at your clothed core. He could definitely tell you were a sopping mess down there and the next thing you know, a stern command leaves his lips.
“Get in the backseat."
Your heels were aching from the stilettos you were wearing and now was the time to get them off or so you thought but Baekhyun stops you immediately. "Don’t. I’d like it if you keep those on.” You couldn’t help but smile at the little pout that lingered on his lips for a second or two as though he was terrified you’d take them off. He looked like a kid whose favorite toy was being snatched away and you stifled your smile.
“O-Okay?” you nod at him and in a few moments you’re in the back seat and he’s joining you with hungry eyes like he’s been starving all night. His velvety shirt clings to his skin as he hovers above you and a dreamy smile takes over his features before a quiet whisper leaves them. “May I?”
“Y-yes,” you stutter and in a frenzy, he cups your face hastily and crashes his lips to yours. He tastes sweet. So goddamn sweet. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, almost dangerously as he seeks to delve deeper like he’s needy to explore every nook and crevice of you. You let him devour you and the backseat is drowned in his irresistible groans and your unsteady whimpers. Baekhyun leans closer to you, pushing your dress out of the way, fumbling with the fabric to get more access to your gorgeous collar bones. He suckles gently on your supple skin, leaving traces of pink in his wake. He travels upwards, snuggling into the crook of your neck before inhaling sharply. “Fuck, baby. You smell absolutely divine. I bet you taste divine too.”
You were far too lost in his words to realize his fingers were sneaking past your thighs again, quickly finding their purchase at the hem of your panties. Baekhyun smirks cockily and pulls them down just enough to get a delicious glimpse of your glistening core and he’s savoring the view with all he can take.
“How perfectly wet,” he purrs, “and all for me babycakes?” rubbing soft circles on your inner thighs again his fingers slowly travel where you’re aching for them the most to be. Baekhyun teases your sensitive nub with his thumb and you hiss at the tantalizing touch.
“Mr. Byun, please.” You cry out. He merely chuckles at your pleas. “Mhmm getting eager, are we?” You nod your head frantically and a devilish smirk morphs onto his face. “On one condition though, sugar.”
“Call me the five lettered word,” Baekhyun withdraws his digits and swiftly takes them into his mouth and a quiet groan leaves his lips as he tastes your essence on his tongue.
“You happen to know the word, do you?”
You shudder under his gaze as you struggle to let it slip down your tongue. “D-Da.”
“Louder, sugar.” His voice is awfully threatening. “Your pretty little mouth would look so good saying it. Come on.”
“D-Daddy.” You stutter and when his two long digits slither into your core without warning, your body jolts involuntarily. He pauses for a good second before curving them as skillfully as he can and aligning the pads of his fingers perfectly against your g-spot. He then increases his pace torturously. “Mmhm, yes. You like that princess?” Baekhyun captures your lips with his again whilst his fingers continue to pump in and out of your sopping cunt.
“Y-yes d-daddy,” you mewl into his juicy lips. And he swallows your moans down. “Fuck baby, moan louder for me. Daddy likes it.” His fingers are unrelentingly thrusting back and forth. Baekhyun trails more kisses down your jaw and then sucks a sharp hickey on your neck. The air is thick and so is his voice as he continues pleasuring you in ways you could have only dreamed of. Your body felt electric, and your walls were becoming tighter with the tension that was building in your stomach.
“Are you going to come like the good girl you are?” Baekhyun grunts “Gonna squirt all over my fingers, princess?” He doesn’t stop. Not for the world and you knew you couldn’t hold it anymore. Your body squirms when he circles your clit with his thumb. You tremble violently and your orgasm rips through your abdomen like a wildfire.
You writhe against his fingers and a loud moan leaves your lips. “Fuck. Just like that baby. That’s my good girl.” Baekhyun praises you as you squirt all over his fingers, wetness pools around your thighs and your cheeks are flushed. Heavy pants fill the backseat and he peppers your collarbone with more kisses. As you settle in the glow of your orgasm, he pulls a napkin out from his pocket and wipes you clean, smirking away while he’s at it.
“Not only are you sexy but you’re also so fucking adorable.” He grazes your cheek with his thumb and pulls you in for another soft kiss. “You’ll let me pamper you after I’m done fucking your brains out in my suite will you princess?” his eyes were heavy with lust and you knew you wouldn’t let an opportunity like this slip and so you answer-
“Yes, daddy.”
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˚⁺☾ hello it’s maya again! i hoped you enjoyed that please leave your comments if you’re borny for demons and fae lords like mr. byun~  i love reading them they give me so much life  ;-; again thank you so much for reading! have a wondeful day! remember be humble be brave dkafjak ♡ ・。
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dessarious · 5 years ago
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Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt78
Sorry this is a couple days late. I was all excited to get this story finished in the next couple installments... and then the mother of all plot bunnies hit. That gave me three options: 1) Ignore it and try to finish it out the way I’d originally thought. 2) Throw it in and have a built in reason to do a sequel. 3) Throw it in and just keep this story going indefinitely.
I’m still debating between options two and three so we’ll see what happens. Also the plot twist will be in the next part. Sorry for the wait but I need to get a few more things in order.
Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU
AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next
Chloe was trying not to stare at the window as they waited but she couldn’t help it. If Ladybug didn’t come back soon they were going to be late to the meeting with the Justice League and who knew what kind of hell that would cause. She wasn’t the only one either. Damian was suited up as Robin and straight up glaring at the empty balcony.
“She knows how important this is, she’s not going to be late.” Luka’s assurance was calm, and it was obvious he believed it. Chloe would too if not for the fact that Mari had been gone two hours longer than she said she would already, not that she’d told the boys that.
“Given that punctuality isn’t one of her strong suits I’m surprised we got to the other one’s on time.” Damian was even more on edge than normal and it was starting to make her skin crawl. She had to wonder what he knew that they didn’t. She told herself that it didn’t matter, that they could handle whatever was thrown at them. It didn’t really help. She let out a relieved sigh when she saw movement and quickly went outside to scold Marinette. The words died in her throat when she actually got a good look at her though.
“Why have you been crying?” She couldn’t help the threat in her tone. Mari had gone to see the Guardian claiming she needed to discuss what they should and shouldn’t tell the justice league, that absolutely shouldn’t have caused this.
“We’ll have to talk about it later or we’re going to be late. I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible and getting a lecture from anyone on manners is just going to delay things.” Her tone was wrong and her body language was sadness and grief. What the hell had happened?
“But we will talk later?” Chloe couldn’t help the question. Anything to do with the Guardian tended to be off limits so she wasn’t even sure it was something she was allowed to know. She tried hard to respect that, but she couldn’t help being annoyed by it as well.
“Yes we will. I have so much I need to tell you.” Well that didn’t sound good. “Come on, we need to get moving.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Discorde could tell, as soon as they stepped through the portal, that this meeting was going to go as bad or worse than the last one. Half the members were glaring at them, not even trying to conceal their anger. Great.
“Care to explain why you’re still using your lackey to keep real heroes out of Paris when Hawkmoth is no longer a threat?” Green Lantern’s hostile tone was bad enough, but the actual words had her seconds from doing something rash. Ladybug could obviously tell if the restraining hand on her shoulder was any indication.
“Care to explain why you all felt the need to come to Paris, especially without contacting me to confirm that it was in fact Hawkmoth who was arrested?” Ladybug just sounded done and that honestly worried her. “Because I wouldn’t have thought real heroes would endanger innocent people like that.”
“Are you claiming that it wasn’t Hawkmoth then?” She really hated Superman’s superior tone but she was starting to wonder if he even had another one.
“No I’m not. That doesn’t change the fact that you all decided to believe the first news report you saw and then somehow decided it would be a good idea to have a bunch of foreign heroes descended on Paris while it’s citizens are still reeling from the shock. Did you even stop to consider the type of panic having all of you show up would cause?” Some of them looked thoughtful which was something at least. The Bats and Wonder Woman were studying the others as well, though she wasn’t certain what they were looking for.
“I would think it would be reassuring for them to see capable heroes for once.” Discorde couldn’t stop the growl that came out, not that she tried that hard. These idiots were so close to death and they didn’t even see it.
“Heroes only show up when there’s a villain. You all suddenly arriving in Paris would start a mass panic that either Hawkmoth isn’t actually in custody or that some new threat is out there. Either way I can’t risk it, especially with how fragile everyone's  mental state is right now. The damage you did might very well not be fixable.” Ladybug was trying to not sound like she was lecturing them, but Discorde knew that’s exactly what she was doing. Why was another matter entirely. It was just a waste of time judging by the glares she was getting.
“Don’t pretend you know how things actually work. You’re just children playing at being heroes. You have no idea what it actually takes, let alone the sacrifices it requires.” Superman’s words caused the room to erupt. All the Bats were yelling at him while Wonder Woman seemed content with trying to glare at him until he shut up. Discorde only noticed on a subconscious level as her blood pounded in her ears and she felt the destruction inside calling out to her. How dare this pompous bastard call Mari’s sacrifices nothing. How dare he act like she didn’t know pain just because of her age. How dare he.
She felt hands on her face and was forced to focus on Ladybug who had a firm grip on her head, refusing to let her look at the targets of her rage. She could tell the other girl was speaking but she still couldn’t hear anything but her own pounding heartbeat and a mantra in her head telling her to end the people who dared insult her Bug. It wasn’t until a shrill beeping noise started that she came back to herself. She saw Ladybug’s earrings flashing between red and black and saw the panicked look on Mari’s face as she detransformed, her arms going around Discordes neck automatically as her legs gave out.
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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago
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Sub Rosa [24]
xi. coup de grace
Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Violence, death, blood, nausea, language, using the Grounder’s for blood.
Summary: You and Bellamy reunite, now separated by cages, and an unexpected person helps set you free. 
a/n: I will be uploading a map of Mount Weather that I found online and added to. this map combines three different maps, which are also linked with the map, in case you guys are curious about where certain events are taking place! I did a lot of pausing, screenshotting, and investigating to try to get this as accurate as possible, so I hope you enjoy! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!
previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist // map
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The next time you wake, it’s to the sounds of a cage rattling. 
Your eyes open slowly as someone lets out a frustrated growl behind you. You pull yourself up, feeling stronger than before, after sleeping off whatever they injected you with earlier. You turn when you hear the cage behind you rattle again, followed by someone speaking Trigedasleng. Your eyes fall on his curls first, then to his muscles as they clench and pull, trying to get himself free. You feel tears prick your eyes when you whisper, “Bellamy?”
He freezes and turns to you in disbelief, whispering your name in shock, as you pull yourself closer to him, connecting hands through the holes in the cage. His shock turns to anger when he realizes what you’ve done. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t honestly think I’d let you sneak into this mountain by yourself, did you?” You shake your head, “But what are you doing in here? I thought you and Lincoln were going to take the guards out at the intake door.”
“There were too many. And Lincoln...he took the Reaper drug.” His jaw sets with anger as he leans back a little, defeated. “And now we’re both locked in cages.”
You hear a snort of disgust behind Bellamy, and you both turn to look at the woman on the other side of him. “Sky people?”
Bellamy nods and she spits at him, the saliva hitting him on the cheek. He wipes it away and grunts out, “I take it no one has told you we're not enemies anymore.”
She says nothing and leans back, before a door at the end of the room beeps and then swings open. Two men step inside, one guard and one doctor, and you and Bellamy slide apart, not wanting to raise any suspicions. You can feel the fear in the room growing as they get closer, eyeing a few different Grounders in cages before coming to a stop in front of yours. You slide to the back wall as the guard checks his clipboard and then turns to you with a sinister smirk. “Dr. Tsing said to take her first.”
You turn and look at Bellamy with a look of fear as they reach for the lock on your cage. Fear flashes in Bellamy’s eyes before determination does, and he lets out a yell and starts to kick the door of his cage. The hand reaching for your lock drops as they turn to him. “Looks like we got us a live one."
They move over to his cage instead, and you let out a cry of protest but they ignore you. They push a shock baton through the cage and zap him, the force of it knocking the breath out of him. You both lock eyes as he gasps for breath, and tears prick your eyes as you watch helplessly. They swing his cage open and Bellamy tries to crawl towards them, but they shock him again before injecting him with something. You press your fingers through the cage and touch his back as he starts to slump, and you whisper, “Bellamy? Wake up!”
His chin hits his chest as he loses consciousness, and the tears fall down your face as they drag Bellamy from his cage and over to a contraption near the door. They hook his feet to it before pressing a button, and he is lifted into the air, feet first, before being left to dangle there. They attach monitors and tubes to him, and after a moment you can see red filling up one of the tubes, disappearing into the ceiling. You swallow back a wave of nausea. That was going to be me.
The guard and doctor give him one more look before leaving the room, the door swinging shut with a loud thud. 
-
You don’t know how long you sit there, pressed against the door of the cage, eyes locked on Bellamy, before the door beeps again and a girl steps inside. She’s pale with dark hair, dressed in a pink sweater and jeans. She approaches Bellamy slowly, cautious, looking between his face and the monitors. You watch in confusion as she steps towards a table and lifts a needle of epinephrine, looking over at Bellamy again. You yell out, “Hey!”
She jumps and her gaze shifts over to the cages, trying to figure out who is speaking to her. “What are you doing to him?”
Her mouth opens and closes, before she starts to step towards you slowly. Her eyes never leave you as she draws closer and whispers your name. You look at her in confusion. “How do you know my name?”
“Your Clarke’s twin. She never stopped talking about you when she was here.”
You feel a pang in your chest at the mention of her name, before realization hits you. “Maya?”
She nods and you let out a quiet sigh of relief. “That’s Bellamy. Help him first. Please.”
She nods again and walks back to Bellamy, plunging the epinephrine into his thigh, waking him with a gasp. He looks around in confusion and she drops to his level, introducing herself quietly. You hear Bellamy call your name in apprehension, and you push yourself as close to the door of your cage as you can, smiling at him. “I’m here, I’m okay. We can trust her.”
He nods before looking back up at Maya. “How about getting me down, Maya?"
She nods and pulls the monitors off of his chest, making the machine flatline. She’s turning to push the button to get Bellamy down when the door opens with a beep. She turns in shock and you lean back a little, out of sight. Maya stutters, “Lovejoy, hey.”
“What are you doing here? You're not cleared for this facility.”
You and Bellamy lock eyes as Maya stammers, “I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to see what was so special about him, but...he's dead.”
As soon as she says dead, Bellamy catches onto her plan and closes his eyes. You watch with bated breath as Lovejoy comes closer and checks the flatlined monitor. “So he is.” He moves and pushes the button that lowers Bellamy to the floor, and as soon as he’s flat on the ground, Lovejoy walks over and frees one of Bellamy’s feet while turning to Maya. “You're a brave girl coming in here-”
He’s cut off by Bellamy kicking out and knocking the guard back, who lets out a cry of pain. Bellamy scrambles to unstrap his other foot, getting free as Lovejoy pulls out his gun and points it at him. “Don't move! On your feet!"
Maya turns and grabs a scalpel from the tray beside her and stabs it into Lovejoy’s shoulder, making him drop his gun. Bellamy lunges for it but Lovejoy pulls the scalpel from his shoulder and cuts Bellamy’s arm with it, forcing him back. He follows up the cut with a punch and Bellamy stumbles to his feet as Lovejoy slams Bellamy into a nearby cage. The Grounders are all cheering and chanting around you as Maya grabs the gun and points it at Lovejoy, yelling, “Stop!”
Bellamy blocks Lovejoy’s next move and grunts, “Don't. They'll hear.”
Then he swings a punch to Lovejoy’s ribs, forcing the man back and towards your cage. Bellamy and Lovejoy exchange a few more swings, pushing them closer and closer to you until they are right in front of your cage. You watch as Lovejoy’s hand lifts, scalpel still grasped tightly in his fist, and you push both your arms though the cage to grab his wrist, stopping him from stabbing Bellamy. Bellamy uses the opportunity to wrap both his hands around Lovejoy’s neck, who struggles to fight the two of you off. 
Blood drips from Bellamy’s mouth and an animalistic growl rips from his chest as he chokes Lovejoy, whose struggles grow weaker and weaker. FInally the man lets out a gargled groan and drops the scalpel, his legs giving out beneath him as he slides to the ground, dead. Bellamy holds him there until he’s sure he’s gone, before looking up to meet your eyes. 
You both let out a sigh of relief and the crowd of Grounders grows quiet around you, before Bellamy reaches down and pulls the keys out of Lovejoy’s pocket, using them to unlock your cage and free you. He helps you out and pulls you into a hug, bare skin pressing together as you find comfort in each other. You realize this is the most naked you’ve been around him, and you start to blush as you pull away and step back. 
Your eyes land on Maya, who stands frozen in place, gun still gripped in her hands, eyes locked on Lovejoy’s dead body. You nod over to her and Bellamy turns, jogging over and dropping to her eye level. “You all right?”
You follow him over as he repeats, “Hey, you okay?”
He pries the gun from her hand as she whispers, “I'm fine.”
“You've done enough. You should walk away.”
She shakes her head. “Neither of you know where to go.”
You give her a reassuring smile, “Then draw us a map.”
"No. I'm in." She looks you over before muttering, “I’ll go find you some clothes.”
You nod and you both watch her leave before Bellamy mutters, “Help me get him undressed. We need to get rid of the body.”
You both work in silence as you strip the man down to his undergarments before dressing Bellamy back up. You help him clean the blood from his face before Maya returns with a set of clothes for you: a simple sweater, jeans, and tennis shoes. You take them with a smile of thanks and pull them on quickly before helping Bellamy carry the body to the trash chute that Maya pointed out. When you are both dressed and ready, Maya hands Bellamy a keycard and the gun and he secures both before tugging a cap onto his head. “We need to get to the radio so we can contact Clarke. We heard Jasper's SOS."
"I helped them set that up. I know where it is.” She looks between you both. “Your people are disappearing, two so far: Monty and Harper. I thought they'd be in here, but-”
Bellamy looks at you and you see the silent question in his eyes: radio or friends, and you turn to Maya and make the decision for him. "We want to see the others."
"The dorm is on the way to the radio." You and Bellamy turn to leave, but Maya calls out, “Wait. Roll up your sleeves."
You both remember and mutter, "Tracking chip."
She grabs a clean scalpel and walks back over to both of you, stopping in front of Bellamy. “It'll trip alarms once we start moving. We have to take it out.”
"Do it."
She looks down at the bump on his arm, hands shaking, and you think of how much shock she’s already experienced today, so you reach out and gently take the scalpel from her. “I’ve got it.”
She nods and lets you take it, and you look up and meet Bellamy’s eyes as you lift the small blade. He nods his consent and your eyes find the small bump, and you make a small incision just below it and squeeze the tracker out. Maya hands Bellamy a square of gauze to stop the bleeding, before you pass him the tool to do the same for you. Maya watches as Bellamy removes the tracker from your arm and asks, “How'd you know what my name was before I told you?”
You smile, “Clarke said Jasper couldn't stop talking about someone named Maya.”
You see a small smile pass over her face as she hands you gauze to stop your bleeding. You and Bellamy exchange trackers so you each have your own and Maya instructs, “Put it in your cage.”
You both do as she says before meeting her at the door. She gives Bellamy a once over and pulls the name tag off his vest before she looks at you and says, “Keep your head down.”
You nod and follow her out of the room, and you feel yourself grow tense the second you are out in the mountain, exposed. Because unlike the ground, there are only so many places to hide in an enclosed mountain. You’re in the lion’s den now, no turning back. 
She leads you straight to an elevator and uses her keycard to call it to you. “There are 382 people inside this mountain. If any of them realize either of you are not one of us, you're dead. We're on level three, the dorm is on five. There's a camera in the upper right-hand corner, so keep your head down."
You and Bellamy nod and step inside, migrating to the right side of the elevator and keeping your heads ducked and out of view. The doors start to slide closed when someone yells, “Hold the elevator.”
A man steps inside and smiles at your guide. “Hey, Maya. You know, I missed you in my expressionists class.”
“Yeah, I had some work to do.”
You feel Bellamy start to reach for his gun and you touch his arm and shake your head, and he lowers his hand. The elevator stops and more people get on, and you all ride in a tense silence as you pray you aren’t caught. When the elevator stops again, everyone gets off except for the man Maya was talking to. You brush past him and out the elevator, Bellamy and Maya right behind you, but he stops Bellamy. “Hey, you're bleeding. You okay?” 
Panic passes over all your faces, including Maya’s, as the man stares at a spot of blood on Bellamy’s neck that you must have missed when cleaning him up. You mentally kick yourself as Maya lets alarm seep into her voice. “You were exposed!”
She yanks the handkerchief from the man’s pocket and presses it to Bellamy’s neck, and she turns to you. “You were with him, so you’re at risk too! We need to retrace your steps and find the breach.”
You step back into the elevator as the man gets out, looking alarmed. Maya gives him a reassuring look as the doors slide closed, leaving you all alone again. You let out a sigh of relief as the elevator takes you to the next floor down. When it stops and the doors slide open, she checks the hallways and lowers her hand before letting the elevator take you back up to the floor you were on. When you reach it she checks once again before motioning for you and Bellamy to follow, and you keep close to her as she leads you down the halls. 
When a bell rings out she stops you at a corner and your breath stutters when you hear kids laughing nearby. "Homeroom has now begun. All students should be in their classrooms."
Maya motions when it’s safe and you follow her around the corner as a small voice comes from behind you. “Mister...Are you on a ground unit? My dad is training for a ground unit.”
Bellamy looks down at the little boy and gives him a strained smile. “It's pretty cool up there. I hope he makes it.”
The boy smiles and walks past you and into the classroom, and when he does, you can see the name printed on his backpack. 
Lovejoy.
You feel Bellamy deflate beside you and his breath comes out in a shudder. You reach out and squeeze his hand, and he looks down at you, sadness in his eyes. He whispers. “They're just kids.”
Maya turns to him in confusion, “What did you expect you'd find here?”
Bellamy just shakes his head, and after taking a brief second to recover, you follow Maya through the halls of the mountain once more. You round one last corner and come to a stop, looking at the doors at the end of the hall, which are open, giving you a perfect few of the 47 inside. You start to walk towards them, happy and excited, but Maya grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, nodding towards two guards standing in your path that you failed to notice before. 
You watch the delinquents and the guards, figuring out how to get around them without raising suspicion when an alarm starts to blare all around you. The doors at the end of the hall swing closed, locking your friends inside. You, Maya, and Bellamy all exchange worried looks and you whisper, “What's going on?”
"I don't know. It's not a breach, but it can't be good."
You turn to look back towards the door and your eyes lock with Jasper’s. You think you see recognition flash across his face as Bellamy mutters, “Get us to that radio.”
Maya nods and leads you away quickly, all of you now ignored as everyone focuses on the sounds of the alarm instead. You use the distraction to slip back into the elevator and down to level seven, before running through the halls and slipping into a hidden room. You file past walls and walls of art, before stopping in front of a painting on the wall. Maya pulls it down and reveals the radio, tucked into a hole in the wall. Bellamy steps towards it, turns it on, and calls, “Camp Jaha, this is Mount Weather. Can anyone read me?”
He waits for an answer, but when he is met with static he repeats, “Camp Jaha, this is Mount Weather. Can anyone read me?”
"Bellamy?" You and Bellamy exchange a look of relief when you hear your twin’s voice crackle through the radio. She whispers, “Is she with you? Are you alright?”
You’re confused when you hear worry in her voice about your safety, considering her new viewpoint on love, but you welcome it nonetheless. Bellamy holds the radio up to you and pushes the button so you can answer, “I’m fine, we’re fine.”
Bellamy adds, “That's it for the good news. We have to talk fast. Something has changed. Jasper, Monty, everyone, they just locked them in the dorm.”
“But they're alive, all of them?”
You answer, "I think so, for now. Maya says that they're already using their blood, and things are just going to get worse in here."
"Maya is with you?"
Bellamy looks over at her with a small smile. "She helped us escape. If not for her, we'd be dead. And, Clarke, there are kids in here. We need a plan that doesn't kill everyone. Please tell me we have one."
"I hear you, but we can't do anything until you guys disable the acid fog. Raven is gonna help you."
"Got it. What else?"
"You have to figure out a way to free the Grounder prisoners. There’s a whole army inside that mountain and they don't even realize it."
You smile thinking of the stories your father used to tell the two of you and reply, "Trojan horse. Good plan."
Bellamy takes the radio back from you and adds, "If we’re gonna pull this off, we need you to buy us some time. It won't be long before they realize we don't belong here, and if that happens-"
"That can't happen. I'll come up with something. Until then, Raven’s going to explain the acid fog. You work on that and I'll buy you time. Stay safe.”
The radio cuts out and then Raven’s voice jumps on, explaining the acid fog system to you and Bellamy slowly and carefully, making sure you both understand it the best you can. When she’s finished, she asks, “Got it?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
“Clarke wants you to radio every three hours. I’ll be listening. Camp Jaha out.”
“Mount Weather out.”
Bellamy returns the radio back to its spot and you put the picture back on the wall before you both turn to look at Maya. “Time to disable some acid fog.”
-
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flamencodiva · 4 years ago
Text
Getting Back to You 11 - Hustling and Nightcaps
Description: Amaya Campos and Dean Winchester had a playful rivalry. what happens when Dean is no longer her Dean. Will this change make one of them realize what they really desire, or will they continue to keep secrets?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Amaya Campos (Original Female Character) , AU Dean Winchester x AU Amaya Campos
Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst
Word Count For Series: 100K+ words
Beta: @superfanficnatural​ and @emoryhemsworth​​​ and @jensengirl83​​
Book Cover by @talesmaniac89​
Dividers by @firefly-graphics​
A/N: Special thanks to - @crashdevlin​ @atc74​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @winchest09​ @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​ @malfoysqueen14​  @emoryhemsworth​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @katehuntington​ @anathewierdo​  and to all my friends who listen to me ramble about my writing. your words of encouragement mean the world to me! Without you I don’t think I could have found the courage to come back and share what I love most to do, WRITE.
Getting Back To You Masterlist
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Amaya tossed and turned as the night went on. There was something nagging her in the back of her mind. By now, Dean would be groaning in his sleep, or at least snoring. But there was a deafening silence that just seemed out of place. Running a hand across her face she sat up and looked around the motel room. 
There sitting in the kitchenette, was Dean. A bottle of beer in his hand, a far away look on his face. It was a look Amaya rarely got to see in her Dean. Throwing the covers off, she got off the bed and walked over towards him. 
“Couldn’t sleep?” she whispered. 
She chuckled when Dean jumped a bit. He was deep in thought when she had approached him. She could see his Adam's apple bob as he took in a soft swallow. 
He gave her a small smile before he cleared his throat, “I dunno… just felt kinda anxious, you know?” 
“Yeah, I hear ya,” Amaya sighed. “It’s weird not having to hear Dean toss and turn or snore sometimes.” 
“He snores?” Dean snorted. “I shouldn’t laugh… Amaya would pinch my nose from time to time if I snored. But I’m worried about her and her nightmares.” 
“She gets nightmares? About what?” Amaya asked. “If you don’t mind.” 
“Not at all,” Dean assured her. “Being abandoned, or people not wanting her. Her dad left her at the academy back home. She always kept mostly to herself.” he took a sip of the beer he was drinking. “I kept trying to be her friend. I started out being this… cocky, know it all, until she knocked me on my ass a few hundred times.” he chuckled at the memory. 
“Sounds like Dean and me,” Amaya gave him  a thin line smile. “He was this tough, cocky dick. And I found ways to knock him down a peg or two.” she chuckled. “This one time, we were at a party in high school out in the woods.” she closed her eyes at the memory. “I was seeing this guy at the time. One of those, just passing by flings.” she shook her head. “Well, needles to say, Dean used a scar from when he had to save me from a ghost. Lady decided to use her cutlery as weapons and she was gunning for me.” 
“What did he do exactly?” Dean raised an eyebrow. 
“Mind you, I saw this from afar and I thought he was trying to show off how macho he was.” she shook her head. “So I go up to the guy and wrap my arms around him and he just gives me this look of disgust.” she sighed. “He starts calling me every name in the book and saying I’m insane for stabbing my ex when he did nothing and I was confused as hell.” 
Dean watched as she paused to take a gulp from the beer bottle. When she was done, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose before continuing. 
“I walked up to him and whatever slut he was flirting with, grabbed him by his neck, and said in his ear, ‘Since I’m your crazy ex, guess it’s okay for me to act like it!’ So I pulled him away from blondie and dragged him away from the party and just laid him out on the ground in an arm bar. Almost snapped his shoulder until Sam pulled me off.” 
“Why am I an ass in this world?” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Honestly, I mean, what is the point of doing that?” 
“Defense mechanism,” Amaya sighed. “I mean, I’m not going to deny it. I fell for him.” she let out a laugh. “It’s cruel that I would fall for him when he doesn’t love me back.” 
“You don’t--” 
���I do,” Amaya whispered sadly. “If he did. If he really did, he would say fuck it, grow some balls and be with me. But no matter how much I’m there for him in every way… even as just a warm body,” she chugged the last bit of her beer and hissed. “I have to face the facts. I need to move on. If I don’t, I’m only going to hurt myself.” 
Dean stayed silent as her words sunk in. He still couldn’t grasp the severity of what this version of himself went through. 
“I always tried to convince Amaya I wasn’t going anywhere.” Dean whispered. “She seemed to think that when I first asked her out that it was some prank orchestrated by the other huntresses.” Dean chuckled. “I would spar with her and she would just lay me flat time and time again and I would look up at her and say, ‘see, you keep knocking me off my feet. Would you just go out with me, already?’ And she would call me a jackass and just walk away.”  
“So what made her finally give in?” Amaya asked with a smile. 
She could tell that Dean loved his Amaya. The way his eyes shined at the mere mention of her. When he said her name, he would smile. 
“I killed the vamp that decided to take a bite of her.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he played with the label on the beer bottle. “She lost some blood, I took her back to our hotel and stitched her up. I stayed up all night just making sure she was okay.” He grabbed the beer and began to chug its contents. “Next morning, she woke me up from drooling on her arm. Called me an idiot, said thanks and kissed me out of nowhere.” 
Amaya watched as the corners of his lips curled up into a soft smile. But she knew he was feeling sad, feeling homesick. 
“After that kiss, I took her out on a real date and we dated for about five years before I popped the question.” He let out a laugh. “I should have married her after I almost died. But we have this tradition that--” he paused to take a drink. “It seems stupid, but it is practical. There is a ceremony that is supposed to ‘protect’ the newly weds.” he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I should have just married her and done the ceremony at a later time. I shouldn’t have listened to my mother at the time and now look… and… and…” 
“Dean?” Amaya sat up as she saw something she rarely saw Dean do, cry. 
The last time she saw Dean, her Dean, look as broken as he was before her was when he had been dragged out of hell. She watched as he clenched his jaw, her heart jumped slightly at the look. The clenched jaw, the way he tried to swallow the guilt.  
“What happened in your world?” Amaya whispered. 
“I was grading papers at the academy,” he took in a shaky breath. “There was a knock on the door and Lisa Braden walked in.” he let out a scoff and sneered. “She kept digging at how Amaya and I hadn’t gotten married. Wedding is set for next week,” he grabbed the beer and finished it off before standing up to open up another. “I was an idiot getting out from behind my desk. But I wanted to seem busy. I also needed to write some things on the board but… besides the point.” 
He opened the bottle and chugged as much as he could before clenching his fist. Walking back to the table, he knocked on it slightly before slumping onto the chair. 
 “Next thing I know she’s kissing me and I want to pull away but… something strange happens.” he closed his eyes trying to stop his eyes from crying but a single tear escapes. “But…” he grit his teeth and turned his head. “Something was wrong. My heart was screaming it’s not Amaya, but my head… in my head it was her. I could almost feel her and then… I opened my eyes and it was her… I swear for a moment, Amaya was in front of me and not Lisa.” 
“And that’s when the other version of me walked in. I’m guessing.” Amaya muttered and finished her second beer. 
“She called off the wedding, too,” He let out a frustrated laugh. “I need to get back. I need to marry her next week.” 
“Okay,” was all Amaya said. “Since we can’t sleep, might as well get dressed and entertain ourselves.” 
“By doing what?” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Salsa dancing?” 
“We hustle pool,” Amaya said matter of factly.  
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Dean sighed as he slept on the hotel bed. 
He could feel her in his arms. The smell of her lavender shampoo filled his senses as he felt her fingers brush against his skin. 
“Maya,” He whispered as her lips brushed his. “You know we shouldn’t be doing this?” 
“You chicken, Winchester?” she said with a teasing smile. “You know there is no turning back from this.” 
“Hey, you’re the one that said yes,” He chuckled. “Just want to make sure you aren’t backing out now.” 
“We’re getting married in the morning and we’re breaking the number one rule,” Amaya giggled. 
“Since when do Winchester’s play by the rules?” he reminded her. “Besides,” he kissed along her neck and collar bone. “Need one last run as singles before the big day tomorrow.” 
“Perv,” She slapped at his arm but giggled anyway. 
The sound made him smile to the point his cheeks were hurting. Next thing he knew, he watched her walk down the aisle. She wore a corset style top with a fitted and flared skirt. She was glowing as she walked down the white carpet they had decided on. With Cas standing in as their officiant.  Dan smiled at Amaya as she smiled back. The scene moved quickly until Cas asked the important question. 
“Do you, Dean Winchester,” Cas breathed with a smile. “Finally take Amaya Campos as your wife? Mostly because this wedding is illegal since you are both technically considered dead.” 
Dean let out a laugh and smiled at Amaya, “I do.” 
“Do you, Amaya,” Cas sighed. “Do the same thing I asked but with Dean?” 
“I--” 
“Maya?” Dean whispered as blood began to seep out of the corner of Amaya’s mouth. “No.” 
“Dean, Dean, Dean,” 
The voice sent a shiver down Dean's spine as an arm wrapped around Amaya pulling her away from him as he felt something restraining him. All around his arms and legs were hooks sinking into his skin. 
“Alastair,” Dean growled as the Demon pulled Amaya towards him, her back to his chest as he held a knife over her belly. “Let her go!” 
“You didn’t really think you actually left my rack, did you?” Alastair ran his knife along Amaya’s cheek as she whimpered. “She whimpers so nice, Dean. I mean, that is very sweet. I love it when they squeal.” He plunged the blade into Amaya’s abdomen. 
“NO!” Dean screamed and cried when he pulled on the hooks that dug into him. “MAYA!” 
All he could do was watch as Alastair dragged the blade along her belly, slicing her open. Her white dress now stained red with her blood as it began to pool on the floor. Dean closed his eyes only to feel a slap on his face. 
“No, no, no, Dean,” Alastair said with a laugh. “Open your eyes and look at what you brought on her.” he pulled on his hair. “Look at what loving her did. This is why you can never love anyone.” Alastair hissed in his ear. “You’re poison. You bring nothing but death to the people you love. And she is only your latest casualty.” 
“Maya,” Dean whimpered as the tears rolled down his face. “MAYA!” he screamed as her cold dead eyes stared right back at him. 
Dean’s eyes flashed open as he sat up on the bed. Sweat dripped down his face as he took in deep breaths to try and calm down. He hated when he dreamed. That was the worst one yet. It wasn't the only one that had featured Alastair, but it was the goriest one. 
“Bad dream?” a voice called from across the room. 
“Not really,” Dean took a deep breath through his nose. “Bed isn’t all that comfortable for dreaming.” 
Amaya let out a snort as she held her glass to her lips, “Yeah, okay. “ 
“What about you?” Dean pointed out. “You get up to have a nightcap often?” 
“Couldn’t sleep,” she grumbled. “Want some?” 
Dean smiled as he saw the whiskey bottle. Walking over towards the table, he pulled out the chair and sat down. Grabbing the bottle, he poured himself around two fingers full. The familiar burn in his throat gave him a small bit of satisfaction. 
“So…” Dean clicked his tongue. “Why are you running from love? See me, I know why I’m running. I’m poison. Anything I love, anything I touch, will die.” he admitted. “From what you told me about how you grew up here, I think you’re running from something.” 
“Am not,” Amaya snorted. 
From the look of the bottle, Dean surmised she was already slightly drunk. 
“He was just going to leave anyways,” she snorted. “It’s why my father abandoned me. Last-- las’ thin’ he said was that I am going to end up alone.” 
“What?” Dean raised an eyebrow at her. “Omar said you were destined to be alone? Come on!” 
“He did!” Amaya exclaimed. “He-- he never contacted me again. And I was always alone. I mean… the girls all hated me because I was good at everything and I caught Dean’s attention.” she let out another snort. “Me.. golden boy had his eyes on me. I always thought it was a cosmic joke.” 
“So,” Dean finished his whiskey and poured himself some more. “Let me get this straight. You are running from Dean because he is eventually going to leave you because you feel you’re cursed to be abandoned?” Dean let out a scoff. “Sweetheart, if he ever did that then he isn't anything like me.” 
“He isn’t. But he did. He kissed Lisa. I don't care if a spell was behind it. He kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and…” she sniffled a bit. “After everything I heard, what the other female hunters were saying… they said it served me right. That I was too cold for the Knight of Hunters.” 
“Is that what they call him?” Dean smirked. 
“More like what he was to me. He saved me in terms of being alone…” she admitted. “He never gave up on me, though.”  She said sadly. “He just kept pushing and pushing. I kept knocking him down and knocking him down. Until we were on assignment together. It was a vamps nest.” she seemed to smile at the memory. 
“What, did you save his ass?” Dean chuckled. 
It seemed to be the pattern with them. She would kick this version of himself in the ass, while he just tried to show her that she was not worthless. A part of him knew that if Amaya ever felt that way in his world, he always tried to make her feel wanted. At least until he felt he was getting too close. Then he cut it to the quick and distanced himself. 
“Actually,” she paused and finished her drink before reaching for the bottle to pour herself some more. “He saved me. I was too cocky for my own good and I didn’t realize I had missed one.” she recalled. “I had my back turned and it chomped on me from behind. Dean jumped in and killed it just in time.”  
“Funny,” Dean let out a small huff. “Opposite happened to me and Maya. I had my back turned and she saved my ass. Not the first time either.” he admitted. “I--” he slammed back the rest of his whiskey before grabbing more. “She’s my best friend. I’m sure she knows that, deep down. But… I always seemed to push her buttons and--” he took a sip and hissed as the amber liquid flowed down his throat. 
“You love her,” Amaya whispered. 
“What?” Dean let out a high pitched sound. “No. I mean I… She’s my friend so I care about her but I don’t love her like THAT.” 
“Your lips are lying, but your eyes,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ve seen that look. It’s the look Dean would give me. Or rather, still gives me. Even before this whole thing happened. When I was packing my things and he tried to stop me. I could tell. He--” she wiped the stray tear that had started to fall. “He was hurt that I would leave. But his eyes still showed love in them.” 
“Yeah? And how do you know that I feel the same way about my Maya? Huh?” he grumbled. “You don’t know--” 
“Because you look at me the same way,” her brown eyes met his green ones.
Dean could feel a small sense of familiarity at the way her eyes stared into him. He noticed the emotion, she was sad. She missed her Dean, even though she was pushing him away, running from him. She missed him. And as much as he hated to admit it, he missed his Amaya. 
 “When we first met,” she interrupted his thoughts and licked her lips. “You had this… look in them. You were guilty about something. But they flashed with a hint of longing, if that makes sense.” 
Dean stayed silent as her words washed over him. Damn her for being just as observant as he was. Fucking bitch had figured him out in just days of knowing him. Clenching his jaw, he gave her a hard glare before leaning towards her. 
“You know nothing about me, sweetheart,” he huffed. “IF I were to even think of Amaya like that, which I’m not saying I am, she’s as good as dead in my arms. Because that’s how they all end up.” He continued to hold her gaze as he spoke. “Every single relationship I had, everyone I ever cared about ended up hurt or dead. Hell, I had to have an angel erase the memory of a woman I spent a year with, helping her raise her son, after she got captured by demons. So let’s get this thing straightened out. I do NOT love Maya in that way. All we are is fuck buddies. Understand?” 
Amaya raised her hands in defeat, “Okay. I get it. But remember this. You’re running away just like I am. I don’t judge you, if you don’t judge me.” 
“Deal,” Dean huffed. “Know a good place to hustle pool?” 
Amaya gave him a devilish smirk, “You know how to hustle pool? You’re yanking my chain.” 
Dean let out a chuckle, “Sweetheart, I’ve been hustling pool since I was in diapers.” 
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In the pool hall, Dean fidgeted nervously. The way Amaya walked around the pool table made him nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to play pool, he did. He just wasn’t good at hustling. He watched as Amaya walked up to him carrying the pool cue in one hand and a glass of whiskey in another. 
"You need to relax," she whispered in his ear.
Her breath sent a shiver down his spine.
"I can't… this is… my Amaya was better at this than I was." He whispered back. "I was the one she would play against and lose." 
Amaya tilted her head to the side in thought, “Okay, let’s play one game and let me see what you’re all about.” 
Dean simply nodded as he moved to the side and let her rack up the balls. He watched as Amaya studied the table with a smirk. He recognized that look, it was a look of strategy. She was measuring all the angles she could use. Next thing he knew, she hit the cue ball and the game began. He was only able to sink in a few solid balls as she sunk stripe after stripe. The one thing he noticed was that, while she was measuring for trick shots, she never used any. In fact, she had missed a few on purpose with a smirk. 
“What are you doing?” he whispered to her. He made himself seem as though he was flirting with her. 
“Trying to catch a big one,” she breathed back, using her eyes to point at a few men that were watching. 
“You know,” Dean raised his voice as he gave her a wink. “You’re pretty good at this, mama.” 
“Yeah,” she let out a giggle. “What makes you say that?” 
“You wiped the floor with me.” Dean walked around the table as they finished their game. 
“Hey toots!” one of the men who was observing them called out. “Why don’t you play with a real man?” 
“Call me when you find one,” Amaya sassed with a smile. 
“You give me your number, and I’ll give you mine.” the man had walked up to the table and leaned over it shooting her a wink. 
With a small glance at Dean who nodded, she flashed the man a smirk. 
“Rack ‘em up,” she walked over towards him and ran her index finger along his cheek, trailing down his jaw, and towards his chest. “Big boy.” 
Amaya could smell him a mile away. This man thought she would be an easy target, so she decided to play it up. She was thankful for the off shoulder black tube top she was wearing. It squeezed her breasts just right, giving off a large amount of cleavage. As she leaned over the table, she made sure to give Mr. Cocky a good view of her own rack while pushing her ass out in her skin tight jeans. Her hair in a neat braid as she moved around the table, sinking in shot after shot. 
“Eight ball,” she called lazily. “Corner pocket.” 
Dean watched as she sunk it with ease while the gorilla who was watching her grabbed his cue so tight, his knuckles were turning white. 
“Beginners luck,” he grumbled as he set down the five hundred dollars they bet on the table. 
Amaya gave him a sweet purr as she let her fingers brush along his arm. 
“Want to double or nothing?” She whispered. “I mean, this was my first, real, game.” she brought her face dangerously close to gorilla’s. “What do you have to lose?” 
It wasn’t long before Amaya and Dean were walking out of the pool hall. Amaya hummed happily as she counted off the money they made. 
“Four thousand dollars!” she sighed contently as they climbed into the Impala. “Oh man, Dean would have flipped if we ever got this much in one night! This was a lucky night.” 
“I guess it was.” Dean chuckled. 
The smile on Amaya’s face made him both happy and sad. Sad that he wasn’t with his version of her, but happy that he could make any version of her smile. Without even thinking, he reached over and placed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek as he pulled his hand back. 
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I... um…” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “We should try and go back and get some sleep. Got a long drive to make.” 
“Yeah,” Amaya whispered. 
There were days that she wished Dean would look at her the way this alternate version was looking at her. Weeks that she would dream about even the gentlest touches coming from him. Closing her eyes she shook away the feeling and swallowed the lump in her throat. 
“We should get back and try to sleep.” she echoed, refusing to look at him. 
The drive to the motel was filled with silence as they undressed and got comfortable before settling in and letting sleep over take them. 
Dean and Amaya were back on the road. To say that sleep did not come easy was an understatement. Despite the fact that Amaya insisted on them drinking whiskey to help, it did nothing but fill both of them with dreams of longing. Each of them dreamed of being with the right versions of the people they loved only to be disturbed when the light of the sun woke them.  
“You okay over there?” He asked as they barreled down the road. 
“Yeah, fine.” She brushed him off.  She had grabbed her phone and began dialling Sam. “Please tell me you have more information on what’s going on?” she sighed. 
Dean focused on the road as he heard her talking to Sam. In the middle of the ‘uh-huh’ and ‘yeah that sounds like it’, Dean had a thought. 
“Can you ask him if it has anything to do with Hecate?” 
The question left his lips and he could feel Amaya’s eyes on him. 
“Did you just say Hecate? As in Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft?” Amaya said. In that instance she let out a groan. “When the fuck were you going to tell me you guys were messing with Witches of Hecate, Winchester?” she yelled into the phone. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Sam! You are dealing with a Greek Goddess and not just any Greek Goddess I might add!” 
Dean sighed, he thought back to what Hecate said in his universe. He said that it was nothing against him, but at the same time maybe it was his fault. Back in his world, it didn’t matter if Witches were white or dark. A Witch was a Witch and they had to die. 
“I think that would be my world’s fault.” Dean rubbed at his eyes as he pulled the car over.  
“Hold on, Sam,” Amaya sighed as she turned to Dean. “What do you mean?” 
“In… In my world, a Witch is a Witch.” He explained. “So when someone is caught, we either imprison them or…” he trailed off. 
“So,” Amaya pinched the bridge of her nose. Pulling the phone away from her ear she pressed the speaker button. “Okay, let me get this straight. You guys felt that no matter what kind of magic was used, a Witch was always evil?” 
Sam let out an audible groan. “And now she’s trying to get revenge. But why target our Dean?” 
“He hates Witches Sam… He’s an easy target.” Amaya huffed. “Of course put him in a world where his ‘all witches are bad’ motto will make him happy.” 
Dean let out a groan and placed his forehead on the steering wheel. “This is all kinds of fucked up. I just want to go home!” he whined. 
“This isn’t a picnic for us either, pal,” Amaya grumbled. “I want grumpy back. I hate to admit it, but the faster we get him back the faster I can go off on my own.” 
“Maya,” Sam’s voice came in. “you know that he--” 
“Save it, Sam,” Amaya hissed. “He’s been pulling this shit since I can remember. So no, I won’t stick around when he comes home. Besides, Jason is meeting us in Salem.” 
“What?!” Sam and Dean both echoed. 
“Just... let’s keep driving. We’re wasting time! Not to mention we need to do some investigating when we get there, if Jason hasn’t started already.” 
Dean started the car back up and continued the drive, pushing the Impala as fast as he could.
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Dean let out a laugh as Amaya finished wiping the floor with another sucker. They had decided to split up and make it a small competition to see who could win the most money. Only after Dean had proven it to her that he could play. He had a difficult shot to make, and with a smirk, made the cue ball jump over one of the balls in his way to sink the eight ball in. At the time, they were the only ones at the pool table. 
Amaya had found a small pool hall that was just empty enough to test his skill before the patrons filtered in. Drinks were flowing and laughter filtered through. The groans of disappointment echoed as both Dean and Amaya’s tables were filled with onlookers. 
“You know,” Dean heard one of the men say to Amaya as she bent over the table. “Why don’t you come back with me and I can sink some balls in some holes for you?” 
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as Amaya pulled the cue back quickly hitting the man in his solar plexus. 
“Oh,” she cooed. “I’m sorry, amor. I only let certain balls sink into particular holes.” with that she lined up her shot and sunk in the eight ball. “I believe the stakes were triple, right?” 
Before he knew it, between the two of them they made a good eight thousand dollars. Dean gave a low whistle as they counted up the money, Amaya giving him his four while she kept hers. 
“I call that the best night I’ve ever had,” he chuckled. “We need to play pool more. Could probably clean house.”   
“Yeah,” Amaya sighed as she leaned up against the Impala. “You are really good. You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve played since you were young.” 
“Told ya,” he shot her a cocky smile. “I take it we should get some sleep while we can.” he cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. 
By now, he and Amaya would have gone back to the motel, drank some whiskey, and ended up in bed together. Mostly with Dean giving her gentle touches as she slept. Mostly because he couldn’t do it while she was awake. He would never admit to having a few secrets of admitting he loved her to himself. But damn it if he didn’t miss her.  And damn it if thinking about her didn’t give him the biggest hard on in his life. And here in front of him was her doppelganger. Dressed in a crop top band tee, tight jeans, leather jacket, and biker boots. Her hair flowed around her with a smile that reminded him of what his heart wanted.  
“Yeah we should,” she agreed, clearing her throat. “I take it, you had to hustle to survive.” 
 Dean reached over and grazed his thumb along her lips before recoiling it back as if touching her burned him. 
“Sorry,” he rasped. “You had a smudge and I-- I just…” 
“It’s fine,” Amaya whispered. “How about we celebrate with some more whiskey?” 
“That sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” Dean said as he smiled. “I could get used to that.” 
The drive back to the hotel, with a pit stop at a liquor store, resulted in good music, crude jokes, and stumbling into the hotel room. 
“So… so, we barge into this coven that’s out in a cabin and… Dean and I have to turn away because they were--” she paused to take a drink from the bottle as they sat on the floor, before passing it back to Dean. “They were worshiping in skyclad. And we had walked in on their orgy. It was butts and tits, and penises everywhere!” 
“That must have been one messy massacre,” Dean grumbled. 
“Why do you say it like that?” Amaya frowned at him. 
“Were they Wiccan’s or witches?” Dean tried to clarify. 
“Witches are witches, nothing more and nothing less.” Amaya gave him a slight glare. “Magic is dangerous, no matter what it’s used for.” 
“And yet,” Dean took a gulp from the bottle hissing as the liquid gave him a slight burn. “The incantations we use to send demons back, the key of Solomon, incantations to beef up weapons, or puzzle boxes,” Dean listed off. “That’s all magic.” 
“Are you sympathetic to witches?” Amaya asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Fuck no,” Dean chuckled. “I hate hags as much as the next hunter. But… not all witches go darkside. There are white witches, and witches who work with gods. I mean probably not THE God, but Greek gods? Definitely.” 
“What is your point,” Amaya drawled. “Monsters are monsters, Dean. They are almost all under control here that we hardly have any cases to filter through.”  
“Just,” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Not all monsters are evil. Some of them, if not all of them, were human at some point or another in their lives. And they learn to live quietly.” 
 Amaya pressed her lips into a thin line. She had seen it before, monsters who had families and were living off the blood of livestock. Witches who never harmed anyone, but were still on the list because of a spike in magical energy that scared the council. 
“I guess Hecate lied about it not being our fault,” she hissed. 
“Hecate? You mean, long skinny, black eyes with silver specs in them Goddess of witches?” Dean asked. “THAT Hecate?” 
“Not as dumb as you look,” Amaya sighed. “Yes, that Hecate. We had captured her followers and one of them had invoked her. Nearly destroyed the bunker. That was the day Eileen told me I couldn’t have kids. I was almost crushed to death.” 
Dean stayed silent as her story sunk in. 
“Well then, guess whoever these witches are in Salem,” he groaned as he got up off the floor and held out his hand to her. “We’re going to have to ask them how we put things right.” 
As Amaya held onto his hand to get up, Dean pulled her a little too hard. She tumbled forward and almost fell, but Dean moved quickly to pull her toward his body. His arms wrapped around her as her hands pressed on his chest. They both froze as they stared into each other's eyes. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat looking at the woman in his arms. The familiar scent of Lavender mixed with gunpowder and... something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. 
“You uh,” Dean whispered and offered her a smile. “There’s something to your smell, I can smell gunpowder, Lavender, but there is something else. I can’t pinpoint it.”  
“Jasmine,” she answered. “It’s a lavender shampoo with a jasmine body wash. The gunpowder is obvious.”   
She dared to look into his green eyes. Eyes that were full of pain, and loss. Eyes that were of a stranger and yet, at the same time were familiar. His own scent hit her own senses. Gunpowder, leather, and whiskey. The leather was unfamiliar. She guessed, from the story he shared earlier, was from sleeping in the Impala for most of his life. 
The two of them stood in the center of the hotel room. Neither of them moved away. The deafening silence surrounded them as their hearts pounded in their chests. Dean was the first to break the trance as he cleared his throat and moved away. 
“We should…” he trailed off and pointed to the beds. 
“Right,” Amaya agreed. “We should get some rest. We have a bit of a drive.” 
“Yeah,” Dean said as he turned away and began stripping his clothes to get comfortable while Amaya did the same. 
“Night, roughneck.” she muttered once she was nestled between the sheets.
“Yeah, night, Ice Queen,” Dean huffed with a smile as he settled into the bed. 
Both of them layed in bed until sleep was able to consume them. The nightmares still played, but they didn’t dare to move as the night went on. By the next morning, the car ride was filled with the sounds of classic rock as they made their way to Salem. Being used to driving long distances on little sleep, Dean was able to convince Amaya to let it happen. It worked out in the end as they were able to make it just as the sun began to set. 
“Take this next exit and drive to The Merchant Hotel,” Amaya instructed. “Unfortunately I had to book us a king suit. The Lark.” 
Following Amaya’s directions, Dean found the hotel and parked the car as close as he could. Settling into their room, Dean pushed a few chairs together. 
Amaya bit her lip, “You know… we can share the bed.” she sighed. “It’s big enough for both of us and… I can ask for extra pillows.” 
Dean hated to admit it, but the bed did look inviting. And even though this Amaya wasn’t his, he couldn’t help but feel that pull towards her. 
“No, I’m good. I can sleep on that corner there where that bench seat is up against the wall. You can have the bed.” Dean cleared his throat. “Besides, I can’t stand cover hogs. And the way you hogged the covers at the last hotel makes me think I’m going to freeze to death in this room.” 
“Fine, jackass,” Amaya grumbled as she grabbed a few pillows and threw them at him. “I’m going to head down to the bar.” 
Before Dean could stop her she was already out the door. Running a hand across his face he let out a frustrated groan and continued to arrange the small couch so that he could sleep when he was ready. Once it was adjusted to how he wanted it, he made sure he had his wallet before following Amaya out of the room and down to find the bar. What he didn’t expect to find was Amaya hanging off the arm of a man dressed in a sharp suit, and perfectly combed hair. 
“Dean, ole chap! How have you been?” The man smiled as he walked up to Dean and shook his hand. 
“I’ve been great, uh…” Dean looked at Amaya for help. 
“Ketch,” Amaya interrupted. “Your drink is ready at the bar.” 
“We should catch up over a night cap and a cigar,” Ketch said as he made his way to the bar leaving Amaya and Dean alone for a moment. 
“That is Ketch,” Amaya sighed. “I guess British base sent him to make sure London is really what I want.” 
“He seems like a douche,” Dean snorted. “Is it what you really want?” Dean asked. 
“Ketch?” Amaya asked, confused. 
“No, London, is it what you really want? Or are you using it as an excuse to run away and never see Dean again?” Dean breathed. 
“It’s none of your business, roughneck,” she sneered. “Just don't get in the way of this hunt. Our research team worked very hard for this for some highschool drop-out to ruin it.” 
“And the Ice Queen makes her appearance,” Dean scoffed. 
“And the roughneck is just as surly as ever,” Amaya hissed. 
“Amaya, mi amor. ¿Cómo le ha ido?” Ketch smiled as he looked between Dean and Amaya. (Amaya, my love. How have you been?). 
Before Dean knew what was happening, the conversation between Ketch and Amaya turned into a rapid fire of Spanish. Nothing coming out of their mouths was slow enough for him to understand. Next thing he knew he caught the words, ‘estupido’ and Amaya glancing at him. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” Dean growled in her ear. 
 “Dean you look ragged, ole chap.” Ketch slapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that you and Amaya won't be tying the knot though.” 
“Still have a week left Ketchy boy,” Dean said through gritted teeth as he shrugged Ketch off. “But you had a long flight, from merry ole England, right?” 
“Not too bad,” Ketch picked at his nails. “But I was able to sleep on the flight.” he leaned in towards Dean. “Give it up ole boy. You took her from me once, I won’t let it happen again. You messed up and are paying the price. She’s mine.” 
“I love how you're an opportunist, Ketch,” Dean eyed him up and down. “But I won the girl. She has my ring on her finger. And if I have to drag her down that aisle, I will!”
Dean was shocked by the words that came out of his mouth. He was supposed to be going home. But here was this sleazy guy, eying Amaya like a steak dinner. He was the only guy, in any universe, allowed to do that.
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Amaya sighed as she flopped down on her bed at the Clipper Ship Inn. In truth, it was probably a lot nicer than some of the motels they had ever stayed in, but it still had the motel feeling. Dean had gone off to grab some supplies as she began researching. She had tied up her hair in a messy bun as she always did when working. But there was something in the crime pictures that she had pulled up thanks to Sam’s hacking.
There, at one of the crime scenes, was the symbol of Hecate. The symbol was a five pointed star with a circle that had almost a maze-like pattern to it. Amaya tilted her head as she studied the crime scene photo. There was something else to the symbol, something that didn’t quite fit. Grabbing her phone she began to dial Sam’s number. 
“Hey Sam, I have a question for you,” She breathed just as Dean walked into the room with a bag of fast food. 
‘Uh, yeah, what’s your question?’ Sam tried to stifle his yawn. 
“Did you get any sleep?” Amaya asked softly. 
‘I’m fine, Cas says he’s going to do some digging up in heaven for something. Maybe there is a way to track Dean’s soul since it’s a part of our universe and not the other Dean’s.’  He let out a small huff. 
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Amaya sighed. “Look Sam, about what I said… before I left, I’m--”
‘I know, Maya. You don’t have to say it. You’re in a bad place, we all are and we just want our Dean back.’ 
“As grumpy as he is, yeah. He owes me a Macarena,” Maya tried to lighten the mood. 
‘Yeah he does,’ Sam let out a small chuckle. ‘Just, be careful out there, okay? Don’t lose your head.’  
“Unless I’m dealing with the Queen of Hearts, I don’t plan to. Should get back to strategizing. We’ll start with the police station tomorrow once we get all the info we can get out of what you hacked for us.” 
Amaya never noticed Dean looking at the screen from over her shoulder. He had begun eating his grilled chicken salad. As he took a forkful into his mouth he tilted his head and put his food down next to her. Reaching over her, he zoomed in on the symbols and tapped on Amaya’s shoulder. 
“Put him on speaker,” he commanded as he grabbed a paper and a pen and began writing down notes furiously. 
“Um… Sam, I’m going to put you on speaker.” Amaya said. Her tone was full of confusion on what Dean was doing. 
‘Okay, is there something wrong with the research?’ Sam asked as the sounds of computer keys clacking came from the speaker. 
“No, no. It’s good work. I just need some books from the archive.” Dean pushed the paper towards Amaya so she could look. “If you can find a way to send us digital copies of the pages I need that would actually help.” 
‘What do you need ?’ Sam asked. 
“Okay, going to need Scriptura Deorum. It should be on the third shelf, third bookshelf.” Dean recited. “Then from the fifth bookshelf I need, Signum Deos. Next, you are going to the opposite side, bookshelf number ten, top shelf, Runes Anam. Last book might need to get back to us. It’s in the dungeon room. The title is called Siombail Anamacha.” 
‘Okay, let me repeat the titles, you want, Scriptura Deorum. Bible of the Gods. Then you want Signum Deos, Symbols of Gods. Then Runes Anam, Soul Runes, and Siombail Anamacha, Symbols of Souls?’ Sam sounded surprised. 
“That’s what I said.” Dean chuckled. “Omnia facere volo ire in domum suam.” 
‘Yeah, Dean. We know you want to go home.’ Sam translated and sighed. ‘Fucking weird hearing perfect Latin from you.’ Sam muttered. 
“I think that’s everything, Sam. Just let me know if we have anything archived that I can look at digitally.” Amaya said as she rubbed her temples.  “Necesito un trago fuerte.” 
(I need a fucking drink.) 
“¿Qué tipo de bebida quieres, cariño?” Dean gave her a devilish smirk. (what kind of drink do you want, sweetheart? )
“Can you stop that, please!” Amaya looked away from him.
“ No, no voy a dejar de ser quien soy solo porque te incomoda!” Dean exclaimed as he looked at Amaya. “Puedo hablar español, latín, japonés, ruso. Puedo seguir y hacerte girar la cabeza. Entonces, no, no dejaré de hablar los muchos idiomas que conozco sólo porque su amigo emocionalmente carenciado con beneficios no puede.” ( No, I will not stop being who I am just because it bothers you! I can speak Spanish, Latin, Japanese, Russian. I can go on and turn your head. So, no, I won't stop speaking the many languages ​​I know just because your emotionally lacking friend with benefits can't.)
“Sabes que? Te puedes ir a casa carajo!” She got up from her seat and poked at his chest. “no tienes derecho a quedarte allí y juzgarme o lo que tuve con MI Dean.” she seethed, her eyes burning with anger. “Podemos ser amigos con beneficios, pero todo terminará de todos modos.” She reminded him. “Una vez que te devolvamos a donde perteneces, no tengo que pensar en cómo tú y tu Amaya tienen una relación perfecta o un matrimonio perfecto o --” 
(you don't have the right to stand there and judge me or what I had with MY Dean. we may be friends with benefits but it's all going to end anyways. once we put you back where you belong I don't have to think about how you and your Amaya have a perfect relationship or a perfect marriage or--)
Before she could keep going, a knock interrupted her. Raising her eyebrow at Dean who simply shrugged, she grabbed her Colt M11911A1 with a custom lavender handle that Dean had gifted her for her twenty first birthday. Walking to the door, she cocked the gun before opening it to see a smiling Jason with a bottle of Havana Club rum and a box of Hoyo de Monterrey cigars. 
“Hi Amaya,” He said with a smile. 
“Jason,” Amaya whispered. 
Chapter 12 
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darling-i-read-it · 5 years ago
Text
Worry
Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: death, injury, worry, torture
Author’s Note: Hi I’m Maya and I don’t know how to write for non Ewan McGregor characters and I had this idea when I fell over today so here I love it I love him. Imma need to write a sassy one next though
Summary: The reader gets kidnapped and Obi-Wan is worried. Really worried.
Genre: fluff and a bit of angst at the end
(not my gif)
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You spit out a chunk of blood. The man in front of you laughed and moved gracefully across the few feet between you and him. There was another scream of laughter from behind you but it echoed. Your head pounded and your vision was just beginning to stop blurring. You tried to recall the memories before this moment, why your head hurt, why you were bound to a chair, the blood spilling the floor.
Not your blood. For a moment you panicked, thinking it could have been Obi-Wans or Qui-Gon's but you couldn’t seem to find them around. You recalled an ambush, presumably by the men who were holding you captive. You were pretty sure that they had gotten out, broken memories of their backs running away, something Obi-Wan had screamed at you before you had passed out.
You couldn’t remember what it was.
“We have your lightsaber,” one of the men said. You recognized the language and the species but you couldn’t put your finger on the names. You could even understand what they were saying, languages being a hobby of yours, but your head was pounding so hard you could barely slip into another tongue.
“That's great. Why am I here again?” you asked in broken some language or another.
Your worries were spiked. You couldn’t find the rope you had been tied down with. It probably wasn’t even a rope, something this species had brought up to tie down a Jedi with. You groaned, head spiking. Between your confusion and the pain all you wanted was to be saved from this situation but you knew you had to figure this out.
You couldn’t wait for Qui-Gon to return with Obi-Wan. You weren’t even sure if they had gotten out of the ambush. You did know that if either of them had been captured you had to get them out.
Jedi in training but technically a Jedi skill wise, you and Obi-Wan had been friends since the beginning of training. Qui-Gon took you under his wing when your master was killed and the excitement of getting to work with the guy you had a crush on was too much to pass up on. You and Obi-Wan had been secretly together since.
And you were worried about him.
“You need to tell us where the drive is,” one of the others spoke. You rose an eyebrow. You glanced around the room. There was a table of torture devices that looked like they could cut through...whatever was on your hands holding you down. You nodded.
“Wish I knew. It might help me out a little here,” you joked. They didn’t seem to appreciate it. You winced as something hit you from behind. That was gonna leave a bruise.
“Speak.” You looked down at your lap. Your side hurt. Something wasn’t right but that was for later.
“I really don’t know.” You knew. You looked at the tortue devices again and as the man in front of you picked them up you kicked at his feet, lifting up the heavy chair to grab the knife. It was small but it did make it through your restraints just before someone landed on top of you. You felt around as the table fell over, gripping around your lightsaber.
You grinned and opened it. The man struggling on top of you froze at the sight of blue vibrant light. You gave him a moment to look at it before cutting his head off. As you made your way with the remaining people in the room, you looked for an easy exit. You still weren’t quite sure which planet you were on and how to contact someone for help.
Obi-Wan for help. You left one man alive, him on his knees and then felt your headache and side catch up to you. You closed your eyes hard and then opened them again, willing the pain away. You just wanted information before you killed him. Then you could pass out.
“Did you kidnap anyone else?” Your language was coming back. Easier as you walked more.
“No! It was just you! Please don’t hurt me!” he trembled. You kicked him to the ground and killed him anyway. You were too tired to fight. You limped to the door you had found earlier. You opened it, looking around the corner for enamines. You didn’t find anyone and so you kept going, trying to find the emergency escape pods. You had only gotten a few feet before you heard screaming at the end of the next hall. Someone ran across your vision and then fell down, dead.
You pulled out your lightsaber, hiding behind a break in the wall. You peeked around, head still pounding. You saw a lightsaber run across the wall in the bad lighting and let out a sigh of relief.
You clutched your side, limp running to the end of the hall.
“Obi-Wan?” you whisper screamed. He turned, leaving a man falling beside him, dead. His face gave you a range of emotions and you were sure yours gave him the same. He looked happy, scared, in love and worried. Nervous and worried about you. You gathered up your last bit of strength to run to him and collapsed into his arms.
“Y/N?! Maker, are you alright?” he lowered your slowly to the ground as Qui-Gon finished up the rest of the men around. There weren’t many. You nodded, kneeling on the ground, your clothes blood soaked. It was your blood this time.
“Fine. I’m fine. Obi-Wan,” you muttered and then passed out.
You woke up in much less pain but even more confused. You were laying on a bed, a familiar feel around you. The hum of a ship clarified your whereabouts. Qui-Gon's ship. You opened your eyes and felt a hand wrapped around yours. Obi-Wan sat there, fast asleep beside you.
You removed your hand as softly as you could but it woke him up anyway. You adjusted yourself up on our elbow and he smiled immediately, hands flying to your face. You let him kiss you. You needed that kiss.
You heard someone clear their throat and you pushed him away. Qui-Gon gave you a raised eyebrow. You rubbed your lips and caught the eye of C-3PO and the surprised beeping of R2-D2. A little boy you didn’t know came was hiding behind Qui-Gon. You looked down and then back at Obi-Wan, trying to gauge his words. His eyes were tear stained and his face was puffy red.
“You know I don’t think that's allowed,” C-3PO spoke. Qui-Gon walked toward you, leaving the dusty blonde boy aside.
He had seem lovers before. He had been around a long time. But he had yet to see lovers from his fellow Jedi, people who tried so hard not to touch and worry about one another. He had been there when you had gotten captured. He had felt the weight on Obi-Wan's shoulders. He even heard the words that were meant for you, side comments that hit empty air but were said by habit.
You had been off the grid for 4 days. The longest days that Obi-Wan Kenobi had ever lived.
“We saw nothing,” he whispered. Obi-Wan looked at you and you looked back at him, surprise lacing your features. And then Qui-Gon was gone. Back to a different part of the ship.
“But it is against-” C-3PO began but was cut off by R2-D2 speaking back. They both resigned and exited the room, bickering. The little boy squinted at you and stayed put. You just wanted him gone so you could speak with your lover.
“Jedi can’t marry,” he muttered. It was half a statement and half a question. You nodded.
“Yes Anakin,” Obi-Wan croaked out. Anakin looked at his fingers and then back at the two of you. Obi-Wan had his hand back in your weak one.
“I hope they change the rule.” Then he left to speak with Qui-Gon to whom he told that he had never seen such love before.
You turned to Obi-Wan, fingers brushing his cheek.
“You’ve been crying,” you muttered. He finally looked at you. You were healing, slowly, your face no longer a sickly pale.
“They told me you might be dead. That you might die from the wound. You were there…” he paused taking your hand with both of his, “...in my arms and they said you might die.” You sat up more and he put his head on your intertwined hands. You winced but were able to make it to him, taking a hand away and brushing his hair in your hands.
You kissed his head lightly.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” he sobbed. You took both your hands now and held him in your arms. His head pressed against your chest as he cried, hugging you.
“I’m alright. Everythings okay now my love,” you said against his hair. You glanced at the door and saw Qui-Gon, glancing into the room. He looked away, closing it. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to notice.
“I love you,” he whispered. You nodded and kissed your way from his hairline to his nose, making him look at you.
“I love you more.” He kissed you on the lips, his touch feeling better than it ever had. You held him as close as he could get and pulled away to speak. “Come here.”
He looked at you and understood, standing from his chair. You scooted over and he laid beside you. You winced and he slowed his movements, kissing your forehead when he settled. You brushed your fingers up and down his stomach and arms. He calmed down as he explored all uninjured parts of your body. You must have fallen asleep there because your memory gets fuzzy.
All you know was that you were safe and he was safe. That was all that mattered.
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kurama-is-love · 5 years ago
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Promise [Kurama x Reader]
Word count: 1477 Genres: Fluff, drama (a little) Pairing: Kurama x Reader (You)
A little note by author-chan: English is not my first language and I have no beta reader. So I hope it’s not too bad :) And if anyone is interested in beta’ing my stuff, feel free to message me! Because I have a few more Kurama x Reader stuff that waits to be translated ♥
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"Can't you even look me in my eyes anymore?" ... Your voice was cracked even though you tried not to admit it. Kurama had avoided you for a few weeks without any reason or explanation, despite the fact that your friendship with the fox had recently blossomed fantastically close. Kuramas head hung low and he remained silent. "If I've done anything wrong .. Then please tell me, but do not punish me for pushing me off of you .." you added quietly and looked down at the ground. A salty substance fell from your cheek to the floor.
Kurama noticed the fallen tear from the corner of his eye and looked up immediately. He never saw you crying before. You always was a kind-hearted, smiling woman who caused your fellow human beings' moods to brighten with your warming smiles. And now you were crying and he was the reason.
“You did nothing wrong.“ finally he started to spoke. His eyes were closed firmly and his usual calm tone broke ever so slightly. You looked up at him and wiped away your tears after hearing his voice.
“Then tell me please, why are you avoiding me for weeks.“ you begged him. You had no idea what you did to him to make him upset..  
The redhead sighed. “That's not easy to explain.“ he spoke after he got back his calm attitude that caused you to despair often. Because it was quite impossible to see what he thinks right now. “Try it.“ you spoke. You already calmed down from your emotional outburst. Still, you wanted answers.  
He remained silent again in slight embarassment and his gaze turned away from you. “GODDAMNIT KURAMA!“  
Suddenly your eyes widen in surprise when you were pulled against a strong chest. Kurama hugged you so tightly, you almost had problems to breathe anymore. Though his embrace was not too firm to hurt you. You looked up, puzzled, trying to estimate his facial expressions. His eyes were hidden behind some of his red strands that fell into his handsome face. And his mouth was quivering slightly as if he was just fighting his own tears. Since his mouth was open a bit from his quivering you saw his teeth clenched and his lip trembling.  
"Kurama..?"
“Say no more, please. Could we just.. stay like this for a while?“ he asked, his voice quiet as his breath hit your ear. His head was leaning against yours during the embrace.
You gulped, his closeness made you nervous. Slowly, you just nodded silently that caused the fox to smile gratefully. His smile however, showed a vulnerable sorrow within him when he remembered a conversation with Hiei he had earlier.  
 [Flashback]
“I really thought you were smart, fox.“ Hieis cold voice echoed through Kuramas head.
“Hiei, my private life is none of your business.“ the redhead sighed and looked to the tree where Hiei sat and gazed at his friend appraising.  
"I just want to save you from a mistake, because I have no desire to suffer because of it." Hiei replied bluntly. "Your ... feelings for her would only bring problems, not at least because she would  be directly targeted by your enemies."  
Kurama closed his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't thought the exact same before. It was risky, especially after what happened with Maya years ago. He decided to live a lonely life after this, he didn't wanted anyone close to him to be in danger because of him again.  
“Hiei, it's not that she is just a civilian. [Y/n] is part of our group and is able to defend herself. There is no reason to warn me. I protect her.“ Kurama said with a stern voice. He just heard a heavy sigh in his mind.
“Fox, I won't explain every single detail to you why it's dumb and reckless, but you should be aware, that your human feelings fog your mind. Tch, who would have known that the ruthless and feared Yoko Kurama turned into a love sick human boy?“ Hiei scoffed, clearly not amused. “Hn, you don't have to take my advice, stubborn fox. But keep one thing in your mind. It's not just your human girl, you put in danger. We are all in the same boat, after all. Plus, she is just another weak spot from you and every enemy knows how to take advantage of it.“  
This was the moment, Kurama started to think that Hiei was maybe right. He was not allowed by himself to put his friends – and you – into danger because of his selfish feelings of love.
“I understand, Hiei.“ “Hn, did you really, fox?“  
...  
[Flashback End]  
After a while of holding close onto each other, you both lost balance from your hugging. Fortunately you were located in the living room of the Minamino household and landed on a couch. Since he avoided you during the day, you visited him at home to get your answers. Shiori, Hatanaka and his step brother happened to visit an old friend of Hatanaka, so you both were alone.  
Because of the now sitting position, the angle of the embrace changed. Kuramas nose buried into the crook of your neck while he inhaled your scent. He tried to suppress a low purr because of your intoxidating smell and pulled you closer. When you noticed that he won't move or loose the hug, you put your arms around his neck to press your body flush against his. You still didn't understood why he was so touchy all of the sudden, but you didn't complained.  
Kurama thought for a while during this physical affection. And then it hit him. It was far too late to lie about his feelings. It was too late to escape from what he was feeling.    
"...[Y/n]." his breath danced over your skin and caused a shiver running down your spine. Your heart began to race, something Kurama surely noticed. “..:Yes..?“  
“Whatever will happen in the future. I will protect you. I promise.“ he spoke softly and his embrace became more gentle but firm. Your bodies were so close that you almost felt his heartbeat when his chest was pressed against yours. „Forever. I'll protect you..“ Kurama added quietly.  
There was a brief silence between both of you while you stood remained motionless in this position, until you adjusted a little. Before Kurama could look what you were doing, you pulled up his head by having both of your hands on his cheeks. His emerald orbs stared deep into your [e/c] ones with so much intensity.  
“Kurama, you don't have to carry this burden all by yourself.“ you said, astonishing the Kitsune infront of you. „I know you always try to solve everything alone and protect your friends from harm. But even you are not invincible. We support you. You are not alone, you know? Yuusuke, Kuwabara.. even Hiei. And me of course. We are with you, no matter what. We support you, because we're friends. No.. we are more than that. We are like a family.“ you said with a heart-warming smile that made his heart skip a beat. „So.. Please.. Don't exclude us.. exclude me from your life anymore, because you seem to feel like this is the best for us. If you think I let go of you that easily, then I have to disappoint you.“  
Your words made his eyes widen in disbelieve. They flashed golden for a second before he closed them again. “..Thanks.“ he just spoke and chuckled. Sometimes he felt like an idiot. He had known better that it was unable to push you away from him. Your smile widened and you caressed his cheeks lovingly. “You're welcome. Because.. Whatever happens, Kurama. I will always be by your side. No matter what, I will never stop to support you.“  
Kurama smiled thankfully, before he sat up and released you from his grip. You blinked perplexed and a little disappointed that he ended your intimate pose you enjoyed so much. The redhead merely grinned at you when he saw your sulking form and pulled you into his lap. You gasped in suprise and put your arms around his neck again when you looked at him. „I just wanted to change this position into something more.. comfortable.“ he purred, his smirk still on his handsome face. He leaned his forehead against yours and both of you let out a content sigh. It felt incredible good to be so close. Kurama asked himself, how the hell he was able to avoid you for such a long time. He didn't understood.  
„Thank you. Thank you for everything, [Y/n]“
„No, I have to be thankful Kurama. Because now you continue to allow me to be part of your life again. That means alot to me.“
"[Y/n].."
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kythed · 4 years ago
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💕Hello! If it's all right was could I ask for a matchup? I'm a straight gal, 5'2" tall gal with pale skin and a thin form. I also have long brown hair, blue eyes and glasses.
As for personality, I'm kind, reliable and hardworking, though a little awkward in large social groups. I enjoy joking around and prefer looking at the bright side of things. My mbti is infj (and ennegram 9w1). I prefer my friends to be considerate and open-minded, someone who doesn't judge anyone by their first impression. I make a lot of bad jokes, so they need to have a sense of humour as well, or at least tolerance for mine😅
My biggest hobby is writing, which I think about almost around the clock. Fantasy and horror are my favourite genres to write, and for character inspiration I often do people-watching. I also sing, mostly in a choir, and go out for hikes in the nature because I love the fresh air and beautiful sceneries. My worst fear is letting people dear to me down and not being there for them in their time of need. I try my best to check up on them but sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough . . .
My motto would be "If you're going to do it, make sure you don't have regrets later." as I strongly dislike leaving what I start unfinished. It makes me anxious.
My love languages are quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation. I'd like my s/o to know that I overthink often, that my silence doesn't mean I'm angry on uninterested but that I'm stuck in my own thoughts. A deal-breaker is definitely narcissism. Confidence is great but I don't like anyone who thinks the world envolves around them.
Thank you for taking time to read this! I hope it was all righ. Have a great day😊
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thanks for the request ! i hope you enjoy :-)
- this was an incredibly easy choice for me; it just makes all around perfect sense-- I match you with kuroo tetsurou
- you need someone to keep you moving in the right direction because you burden yourself with way too much shit that shouldn’t even be your responsibility
- he helps you to identify what you really want in life and makes you pick n choose a couple of goals to focus on at once rather than doing everything and anything (something tells me you have a hard time prioritizing and saying no to people)
- you help him stop n smell the roses every once in a while because that man doesn’t know when to take a break
- you both share this incredible attention to detail and you both highly value and love getting to know other people
- he’s the one who booked you your first appointment with a publishing house once you finished your first novel and he used his death glare to scare the poor publisher into giving you a higher percentage of royalties on each sale
- SCRABBLE. y’all play a highly competitive game of scrabble every friday night and you always win. this typically culminates in kuroo throwing a tantrum and tickling you mercilessly until you agree it was “practically a tie” (nevermind the fact that you literally won twice the points he did)
- you love fantasy, kuroo loves sci-fi so your conversations are constantly peppered with ridiculous rants and arguments (e.g. “who would win in a fight, a dragon or a tie fighter?” “definitely a dragon babe, i mean it has fire and--” “okay but what if the tie fighter was piloted by a jedi?”)
- physical touch may not be one of your love languages but it sure is one of his-- he’s constantly got his chin resting on your head, or he’s slipping his hand around yours, or putting it on your lower back-- he also really loves giving you these crazy bear hugs (like picking you up and swinging you around type shit) because he likes to feel all big n protective
- I mean the man is literally almost a foot taller than you so can you blame him?
- you guys have literally the worst inside jokes that no one else understands but they send you into hysterics each times until you’re both crying with laughter (lots of terrible puns, yo mama and knock knock jokes that don’t even make sense)
- like once y’all were on a trip to rome and caught a cab to your hotel from the airport but then it took a wrong turn and it ended up that it actually wasn’t a cab and you had just climbed into the back of some little old italian man’s car
- so now whenever y’all are driving somewhere and accidentally go the wrong direction one of you says “mama mia!” in a terrible italian accent and you start screaming with laughter ITS LITERALLY SO OBNOXIOUS LMAOOO
- because you’re both so intuitive that the relationship is like being two halves of a whole-- you can instantly tell when the other is even the slightest bit down and adjust your behavior accordingly
- AND y’all remember the most random shit about each other
- like he once absentmindedly mentioned he loved this particular brand of orange juice and then you started buying only that brand to stock the fridge and he absolutely loves you for it
- and on your first date when you went hiking you pointed out a clump of flowers on the side of the path you thought were pretty so on the way back he secretly picked one and dried it in the pages of a heavy dictionary and got it framed for your birthday
- honestly it’s just little considerate things like this that make the whole relationship
- he always makes sure to involve you in group conversations because he knows it’s your tendency to be shy and hang back
- good conversation is a big deal for you guys but so is quiet time-- you frequently cook dinner together without exchanging a single word, just kinda doing your own thing (like you’ll chop the salad and he’ll make the pasta) and listening to your playlist
- speaking of music, you used to refuse to sing for him until one day he heard you singing in the shower so he crept right up next to the door and recorded it on his phone, and then when you opened the door he shrieked “AHA! CAUGHT YOU!” which nearly scared the shit outta you and made you drop your towel
- but, ya know, you don’t even need to be self-conscious about your singing around this man because he doesn’t have a musical bone in his body and will think that every single note coming out of your mouth sounds like an angel chorus
- overall you guys are that couple that is just so clearly in tune with each other, you know each other like you know yourselves and it’s such a delight to see (hanging out with you is a third wheel’s nightmare tho)
your song: first date by blink-182 (he loves punk pop and you think it’s dorky as hell but he’s adorable when he’s playing the imaginary drums and head banging-- he actually got you to accompany him on the air guitar eventually and it’s lit asf) plus the song perfectly captures the easy, eager way you guys love each other
your favorite movie to watch together: the fellowship of the ring. he wasn’t really into the idea at first (he wanted to watch terminator) but now he’s as big a tolkien fanatic as there is. once you brought him to one of those fantasy renaissance fairs and y’all had the time of your lives.
your relationship in one quote: “In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. / In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.” - maya angelou
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hotel-japanifornia · 5 years ago
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Sisterly Ties
Summary: Sister Iris receives an unexpected visitor in the detention center. Young Pearl Fey, who she believes to be the sister of the future Master of Kurain. The two have a discussion about their heritage and more importantly, their relationship to each other.
(can be found on ff.net and ao3)
It was the middle of February. About a week had gone by since the trial for Sister Iris of Hazakura Temple concluded. There, Phoenix Wright indicted Godot as the true murderer of the children’s book author, Elise Deauxnim, whose true identity was Misty Fey, the previous Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique. Though Iris was found innocent of murder, she was found guilty of being an accomplice to the murder, and trying to cover it up. Luckily for her, Phoenix insisted on getting Iris’ sentence reduced on that count. Though she didn’t believe that she deserved it after lying to him for six years, the nun felt a huge amount of gratitude towards the young lawyer.
Aside from Phoenix, two other people had visited Iris in prison. Sister Bikini went to visit her the day after the trial. She was worried about Iris’ current state and asked how she was holding up in prison. Iris told her simply that she was doing fine and that there was no need to worry too much. Her other visitor was the apprentice of Elise Deauxnim, “Laurice”, who came to talk to her about how he was doing, his upcoming picture book, and showed her some of his sketches because he believed that it would make her feel better. Iris noticed that there was a detailed picture of the new Master of Kurain that featured her sitting on a bench surrounded by nothing but plush white snow. She was wearing an expression that looked as if she was deep in thought; Iris thought it looked beautiful.
 Laurice gazed at her longingly the entire time and asked her at one point if he could draw a portrait of her in the detention center. She agreed, touched by the goofy artist’s kindness. He took out his sketchbook and went straight to work; for the next hour or so, the only sound that could be heard was the scratch of graphite on paper. When he looked up, he picked up his sketchbook and held it up so she could see what he had drawn with an excited grin on his face. It was beautiful, the young artist had gotten her likeness perfectly. Though he didn’t seem like it, Laurice was a gifted artist. Iris thanked him and the two talked some more before he left, sending a flirtatious wink in her direction.
 At one point when Iris was awaiting her new trial, she was woken up by the rattling of cell bars. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and turned to see that her jail cell was open. A prison guard stood by the cell. He called for her in a booming voice.
 “Prisoner, you have a visitor who wishes to see you!” He declared. Iris groggily got out of bed and walked towards the guard. He led her to the visitor’s room of the detention center and walked off. Iris sat down in the plastic folding chair and looked out the windowpane that split the room into two halves, only to see nobody on the other side. A few seconds later, the door creaked open and a little girl with light brown hair styled in the shape of a pretzel stepped inside. She bounded up to the plastic folding chair and hopped onto it. Iris instantly recognized her as Mystic Maya’s little sister, Pearl. Iris tried to be friendly and wave towards her, but the little girl just stared at her with a blank expression on her face; it was almost unnerving.
 “Um...h-hello,” Iris said, trying to make conversation, “How are you doing today?” Though Pearl didn’t smile, her face softened noticeably to Iris.
 “I’m doing fine, thanks.” She said, simply. The nun noticed that neither Mystic Maya nor Phoenix seemed to be entering the room after Pearl. In fact, it seemed as if she came to the detention center alone.
 “Where’s Mystic Maya and Mr. Wright?” Iris questioned. Pearl pressed her thumb to her mouth in thought.
 “They’re outside this room right now. They told me I needed to speak to you alone,” Pearl admitted. She rested her arms on the little desk in front of the window and sat her head down on the desk as she recalled, “Mr. Nick told me something interesting. She told me that you were related to my mother, is that right?” Iris looked taken aback and pursed her lips in thought. Sister Bikini was more like a mother to her than her biological mother ever was. Even so, she could not deny her heritage and so she nodded in affirmation to the little girl.
 “My mother was Morgan Fey. Why do you ask?” Iris questioned, tilting her head curiously. Pearl frowned in confusion and stared at her.
 “So... that would make us sisters...” Pearl confirmed, she studied Iris’ face closely and although she looked uncertain, she smiled a little at the young nun. Iris, on the other hand, was completely dumbfounded by this new revelation.
 “Wait, she’s your mother?” The nun stammered, “I thought that Maya was your sister!” Pearl laughed in a refined, amused manner and shook her head.
 “No, we’re cousins actually.” Pearl corrected. Iris nodded in understanding. She wasn’t sure what to think of being a sister again. Once she was dropped off at Hazakura Temple, Dahlia only ever acknowledged her if she needed something. Pearl, however, seemed different. She was lost in thought before Pearl sat up and continued, “I’m not sure how to feel about having a sister…” She said.
 “I understand.” Iris said. Pearl was silent for a few moments before she blinked in realization and her eyes widened in horror. Her expression turned grim and she gulped nervously before talking.
 “But, if you’re my sister, then that would make that awful woman who tried to hurt Mystic Maya my sister too....” Pearl said, looking downhearted. Iris felt a pang of sympathy for her newly discovered younger sister. She wished there was something she could do to help her.
 “Yes.” Iris said, simply. Pearl stared at the small desk blankly. It was completely silent and the only noise that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Iris looked concerned for the young girl, but she made no movements. Until suddenly, her head shot up to face Iris. Upon seeing Pearl’s expression, Iris felt like her heart was about to tear apart and rip into shreds. It was a mix of pain, conflict, and heartbreak all rolled into one. Pearl’s eyes were filled with tears, and she took a shaky breath before speaking.
 “Ms. Iris?” She hesitated before asking, “Why did my mother try to kil- I mean, hurt Mystic Maya? I need to know!” Pearl looked at her pleadingly. She searched Iris’ face rapidly, as if she was expecting her sister to be able to produce all the answers. Iris wished she could answer this question with ease. But she couldn’t, after all, how could you tell a little girl why her mother wanted to kill her beloved cousin by using her to do it? Still, Iris felt that it was necessary to answer her little sister’s question. Though the truth might be hard to swallow, it was a truth that Pearl needed to hear.
“Pearl,” She started slowly, not sure how to proceed, “Your mother...wanted what she believed to be best for you, I’m sure. And because of that, she was willing to do whatever it took to make sure you inherited the position of Master. Regardless of the cost.” Pearl gazed at her as if she was speaking in an alien language. For a few more silent minutes, her gaze did not waver from Iris. Then, her body started convulsing and her teeth gritted as if she was in pain. Her knuckles turned white and she looked down so Iris couldn’t see her expression.
 “I-I j-just can’t believe that she would do something like that!” Pearl choked out. Then Pearl rested her head on the desk and sobbed. Iris sat there helplessly. She was unable to comfort her physically due to the windowpane separating them. Still, she felt the need to comfort her; so, she used a different method.
 “Pearl.” She started. However, her little sister couldn’t hear her over her sobs. She adjusted her sitting position and raised her voice as she continued, “I know we don’t know each other well. But I have felt the same pain as you are currently.” Pearl’s sobs gradually turned to soft whimpers and then hiccups. Iris waited patiently, as she gazed at Pearl softly. Once Pearl calmed down, Pearl looked up at her, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
 “Y-You have?” Pearl asked, her voice cracked. Iris nodded, looking solemn. Her face held a nostalgic expression as she began to reminisce.
 “I always loved and cared for Dahlia, though she had gone unloved by both of our parents,” Iris looked up at the ceiling, “She was a criminal, but she was so strong and intelligent. That’s why I helped her out so many times until I met Mr. Wright.” She trailed off.
 “What happened then?” Pearl asked. Iris frowned as she reminisced, and she tried not to meet Pearl’s gaze as she explained.
 “She told me to get a necklace back from him. She told me that it was important evidence. I tried and tried but couldn’t do it,” Iris choked up, “And then one day, she got sick of waiting and tried to kill him. She wasn’t successful, thankfully, but I felt betrayed that she didn’t trust me enough.” Iris tried to hold back her tears when she finished. Pearl rubbed her eyes and sniffled. She looked at her older sister apologetically.
 “I’m sorry that happened, Miss Iris.” She muttered, her voice cracking. Iris gazed at Pearl and her face softened. She smiled at her reassuringly.
 “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” Iris said. Pearl sniffled weakly.
 “T-thank you, Miss Iris.” Pearl said, looking gratefully.
“You’re welcome. And please, call me Iris.” Iris suggested.
 “A-are you sure?” Pearl asked, looking uncertain. Iris nodded in affirmation. Her younger sister looked down at the desk again and pressed her thumb to her mouth in thought. Iris wondered what was going on, before Pearl burst out.
 “Iris! I-I’ve decided!” Pearl said, gripping her shoulder in determination, “Since we’re sisters, I don’t want you to feel alone. So, I’m going to visit you regularly until you get out of here!” Iris felt tears building in her eyes, and one escaped and rolled down her cheek. Pearl looked concerned but Iris sniffled and looked at her little sister surprised, yet happy.
 “I would like that very much.” She said. Pearl beamed.
 “So that’s it then! I’ll visit you later, and I’ll bring Mystic Maya and Mr. Nick with me too!” Pearl promised. Iris chuckled lightly.
 “Sounds good to me.” Iris said. Pearl hopped off from the chair and waved goodbye to Iris to which she returned. Iris got up and told the detention center guard that she was done with her conversation and another guard led her back to her cell.
 That night, she spent the night thinking about her new sister, Pearl. It was quite a shock to her that Pearl turned out to be her little sister. Sister… It had been a long time since anyone called her that; Sister was her title as she was a nun after all. But all the same, it had been a long time since anyone had referred to her as “Sister” and meant it in terms of intimacy, a sign of blood relation. Though she had loved Dahlia dearly, Dahlia never truly regarded her as her sister.
 Pearl, however, was different. Though Iris didn’t know the young girl very well, she seemed to have a kind spirit and was very closely attached to her older cousin. It was for that reason that Iris didn’t think the idea of being a sister again would be a bad experience. Though she had a lot to make up for, as she had been absent from her little sister’s life for so long, she vowed to do her best to be the big sister that little Pearl needed. When she went to sleep that night, she had one of the most blissful and peaceful dreams that she experienced in years.
21 notes · View notes
harryandmolly · 5 years ago
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Change of Pace - 16
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cowritten by @achinglyshawn
summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love
warnings: language, angst, mention of drug use
wc: 4.7k
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July 2007
The stage lights are bright white. He sweats beneath the glare, but he can’t tell if it’s from the heat or the coke he did with Geoff in the bathroom. He’s similarly unsure of the origin of his trembling fingers and rapidly-thumping heart. Is it the audience before him responsible for the adrenaline rush, or is it the drug running through his veins?
Either way, he’s keyed up enough to match the energy of the 2am crowd, who are probably just as coked out as he is, if not more so. They look ready to dance, ready to jump on stage and scream in his face while he tears it up on his electric guitar. 
He doesn’t want to give them that. He wants to break their hearts instead. 
As he approaches the mic, the roaring crowd quiets to a dull murmur as they anticipate which rock jam he’ll bless them with tonight. 
He doesn’t. 
“This is a song about a broken fucking heart.” 
+
September 2007
Maya thinks it’s pretty impressive, actually, that she made it all the way to her apartment today before she started crying. 
It’s her second week of her internship at a Manhattan wealth management firm. She lives alone in a 5th floor walk-up studio in Chinatown above a dim sum place where the waitresses are mean. Someone sniffed her and moaned on the subway on the way to work. Someone dropped a burrito in her lap on the way back.
She deadbolts the door and feels her chin wobble as she looks around the miniscule apartment. Before she can stop it, before she can control her fragile, exhausted mind, she falls into it.
It’s a daydream that’s haunted her since she left him in their apartment in the spring. It’s dark and fuzzy in her head, like a worn out photograph she should probably leave alone and stop dragging out to study. 
It’s them, in LA. It’s a Sunday afternoon and she and Shawn are broke and happy, driving to the beach from their shitty one bedroom in the Valley. They have sandwiches from home in a cooler with some discount off-brand soda. Her surfboard is strapped to the roof. His guitar is in the backseat. He’s driving, holding her hand like he likes to. She watches the wind ruffle his curls as he sings along to the radio. It’s simple, it’s a vision a million women have had about the men they love, but she cherishes it. And detests it.
She flips on her light. It hisses, sputters, and goes out.
Maya closes her eyes, and the tears start.
+
The Present
Shawn registers the woman in his arms before he realizes he’s awake. He groans, pulls her close, snuffling into her hair as he slowly becomes aware of the world around him. The sun warms the sheets of the bed, creating a cocoon of comfort around them. 
Shawn groans, nosing down from her the back of her head to the crook of her neck. He gains enough early morning clarity to press his lips to her throat, mouthing lazily at her as he wakes up. 
“Lemon,” he  murmurs, humming into her skin. “Time to wake up, baby.” 
He slides his hand down her side, pressing his palm into the soft curve of her hip to coax her from sleep. 
Maya is half on her side, half on her stomach, face pressed into her expensive pillow. Shawn is needy first thing in the morning. She doesn’t mind. She knows very well this might be the last real show of affection she gets from him. She’s not going to let that stop her, though. It’s time to tell the truth. It’s long past time. 
He’s all over her, grumbling in his rocky morning voice as he wakes her gently, all warm hands and soft lips. She shivers despite his seeping body heat.
Slowly, she turns over in his grasp and smiles sleepily. She lifts a finger and pokes the dimple in his chin.
“Who made you the wake up police?”
She’s so sweet in the morning, warm and groggy and sleep-heavy. Shawn grins down at her when she pokes his chin, grabbing her finger and bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss.  
“It’s you who’s normally the wake up police. I just figured it was my turn.” 
He nips the tip of her finger, still smiling as he tenderly presses his thumb to the palm of her  hand. He starts massages her as he settles back into the pillow and blinks up at the ceiling. 
“Still wanna check out the art store, sugar?”
Maya watches Shawn massage the palm of her hand, her drawing hand, the one that’s always cramping up on her when she’s in an artistic mood. She swallows and lifts her other hand to his cheek, focusing his eyes on her. She tips her head sadly.
“I think we should talk first. I… I have something to tell you. Something I should’ve told you when I first saw you at the farmer’s market.”
Shawn’s stomach drops. He hates the look on her face. He’s only seen that look once. Before she left. It’s not a good news look. 
Shawn sucks in a breath, jaw clenching for a moment as his heart goes a little wild in his chest. His voice is caught in his throat. He can’t really imagine what she could have to tell him. What she could be hiding. A boyfriend? Husband? A whole family? None of those make sense. 
She mashes her lips together and runs her thumb along his sharp cheekbone focusing on how she feels right now, wrapped up in him, feeling his breath on her cheeks.
His eyes flutter shut, chest heaving with a deep, steadying breath. He still can’t find his voice, so Maya continues without him. 
She closes her eyes. “I’m not going back to New York.”
“You— what?” Shawn blinks. There’s a moment of relief— no family or husband or secret kid she never told him about. But then— “Like, ever?”
Maya feels the closeness between them get snapped away by the clench of his jaw. She stays steady, tells herself she prepared for this. 
He’s going to get upset, of course he is. You’ve been lying to him. But you’ll get through this.
She leaves her hand where it is against his cheek but it feels heavy. She takes a breath to convince herself she’s not pushing him away.
“I… I quit my job in May. I sold my apartment. I packed up and moved here. I’m not leaving Avila.”
Shawn is… Confused. Why? Why lie about something like that? And to him? His stomach drops and he doesn’t find her thumb on his cheek reassuring enough to manage to pick it back up. 
He swallows, looking down between them for a moment, because she’s too pretty. She’s too— everything. 
He gut twists. He hates this feeling.
She’s never lied to him before. 
“Why— ah—“ His voice is thick. He clears his throat with a shake of his head and a humorless chuckle. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looks at her again, brows furrowed, and he tries not to choke on his own breath as he waits.
Maya just has to keep breathing. She feels her skin prickle. She decides to take her hand off his cheek before he decides to do it for her because she’s sure if he does her heart will splinter in her chest.
Her pulse races under her hot skin. She shifts uncomfortably next to him and gets ready to lay herself bare.
“I don’t know. I… I didn’t mean to lie to you. God, that sounds like such bullshit since I’ve been doing it all summer. I don’t know what happened. I was caught off-guard, I wasn’t ready to see you. I dunno, I just…”
She trails off and rolls onto her back, skimming a finger through her hair. “I couldn’t say the words. I’m sorry. The longer I waited, the harder it got to tell you. I’m so sorry.”
It’s not a real answer. It explains why she didn’t tell him right away, maybe. But then— then it just kept happening. So many times did he mention the fall, how they’d have to make the best of the time they had. 
And she didn’t— why didn’t she want him to know?
He rolls onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling, jaw set. 
“You—“ he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing shaky. “That’s bullshit, Maya.” 
He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly. 
“There’s— it’s not just cause you couldn’t.” 
She doesn’t trust him. She doesn’t want to be with him. She can’t be with him. 
There’s always another reason.
When he falls onto his back, she pops back up on her forearm on her side to look down at him. She’s close, but not touching. Her legs are stretched out right next to his. She can almost feel the tension rolling off him. She ducks her head and wills away the tears. 
This was coming, she tells herself, from the day she opened her mouth at the farmers market and every day since. They have to do this to get to the other side of it. It’s going to be ok.
Through her self soothing, she nods gamely. “I know. It’s… it’s on me. It wasn’t about you, baby. It’s my own shit.”
“Yeah, but that’s—- what shit? I don’t get—“ He can’t even get a full sentence out. The words stick in his throat. He shakes his head, hand falling from his nose. 
I don’t get why you couldn’t just tell me. Don’t you trust me? 
Then, 
She’s not in love with you anymore. 
He doesn’t want to think that. 
She never said it, but the way she looked at him— it was like before. 
Before.
He’s always so hung up on before. 
That’s his problem, and he knows it. Nothing’s like before. No matter how many times he reminds himself, he always trips his way back into the nostalgia of before. 
He should know not to be so naive. 
He pushes himself up onto the hand, jaw clenched to stop himself from crying like a fucking baby.
“You— is this like, a joke to you?” 
Maya blanches. Something has shifted. He’s not just disappointed. He’s not going to be cold for a few hours or a few days while he processes. This isn’t going to go that way.
She was a fool to hope for it, she knows. She’s always stupid about him. It makes her feel childish.
Maya clings to her dignity. She blinks and clears her throat. She wets her lips. Anything to stall.
“No. It’s… no, of course not. I’m sorry. I was being immature and stupid. You deserve better from me. And you’re not a joke to me, this isn’t a joke. I want this, Shawn. That’s why I’m telling you now so we have a shot at keeping this together.”
She doesn’t think she’s allowed to touch him right now but god, she wants to.
He doesn’t want to hear it. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to hear anything Maya Lu has to say. He feels too… betrayed. 
Betrayed by her and by himself. He’s an idiot, and he should’ve known sooner. 
He didn’t think she had it in her to lie to him. He realizes he doesn’t know her like he thought he did. 
“I just don’t get it,” he finally croaks, a harsh edge to his voice that he tries to control but can’t quite manage. 
He shakes his head, pushing himself all the up and swinging his legs out of bed. 
He gets up, crosses away from her to shuffle through the drawer she emptied for some of his clothes. He needs to get to the studio. 
Maya feels a spark of panic like a jolt through her warm, sleepy limbs. He climbs out of bed and leaves her there to tug the sheet up over her chest. She wills herself to stay calm.
“Shawn, wait, don’t… I mean, baby, please, just… let’s get back in bed and just talk this through, ok?”
It’s so hard to resist when Maya tries to coax him back to her. His heart lurches, because she sounds so fucking scared. 
Good, the mean, angry part of him thinks, because he was scared like this once, too. 
When she sees that idea isn’t going to get her any traction, she adjusts course. She stands up and pulls on a satiny robe hanging on the rocking chair by her bed. She slides into it and crosses her arms over her chest with a weak smile.
“Ok, let’s just go downstairs and have some coffee, then?”
The tortured, desperately in love part of him is heart broken, devastated at the sound of her voice and the shaky way she pulls on the robe she bought because he thought the color went with her freckled skin. 
Shawn almost crumbles. She knows how to make the perfect cup of coffee.
He has to leave. 
“I—“ he tugs a shirt over his head, turning away from her and towards the door as he tucks it into his jeans. “—gotta get to the shop.” 
He avoids her gaze as he turns back to the night stand to grab his keys and wallet. 
The more clothes he puts on the further away he feels, the more screwed she knows they are. She breathes heavily, raking a hand through her hair desperately. She’s shaking like a leaf. 
Maya swears she’s going to be sick on her feet. 
“Shawn, honey, you can’t just leave. Please!” 
She feels like a child in a strop like if she throws herself on the ground and kicks her legs she’ll get him to stay. 
Panic rises with the tears. She chokes on a breath. “C’mon, stay. Stay and cry. Or yell! Yell at me. I’ll yell with you if you don’t want to yell alone. Stay here with me, we can do this, I know we can do this. Please baby, please don’t leave me now.”
She can’t hear herself. She’s spilling words and feelings as fast as she can say them. But she doesn’t know what else to say. What will make him stay and fight?
The more she talks the madder he gets, and he hates himself for that. How fucked up is he? She’s begging him to stay and it just— it makes him want to leave more. 
He has to go; he needs to deal with the lie she spent the entire summer indulging. He needs to be able to not look at her without feeling sick. 
He needs to be alone. 
“Don’t, Maya,” he hisses as he stops at the door, turning to look at her. “Just let me be mad at you.” 
Shawn looks taller than he ever has as he whirls around at Maya. She’s never seen him look like this before. She’s never seen this kind of fire behind his eyes. 
It’s terrifying.
Maya knows Shawn would sooner die than physically hurt her. She’s not scared of that. She’s scared that this is it, that she can’t find the words to get him to stay, that she won’t be enough for him to come back for.
She covers her nose and mouth with her hands and releases a sob. After a moment, she sniffles and releases her hands from her face.
“Shawn… I don’t want you to go. But if you have to go, please come back. I took too long to come back. Please don’t wait that long.”
He hangs his head, his grip around the door knob tightening, knuckles blanching. 
He hates the sound of her voice, the tears that linger in her eyes as she pleads with him. The air feels heavier around him, each appeal she gives making it harder to wade away from her. 
“I can’t— I won’t make you a promise I’m not sure I can keep,” he mumbles, his heart dropping into his gut as he finally manages to wrench the door open and disappear from sight. 
He forces himself not to turn back once he’s out of her house and stalking down the sidewalk. It doesn’t matter if she follows him. He shouldn’t want her to follow him.
She lied to him. Now he gets to run away and pout over it. 
He hates the sinking feeling that everything from this summer was a lie, but it haunts him the entire way to the shop. 
He just… leaves. 
He mutters to her something that snaps her thread of hope and leaves her. He walks away. He might not even come back. 
She’s trying to wrap her head around it. She studied this as one of the possible outcomes of her confession. But she gave him more credit. She knows how smart he is and how mature he is. She thought he’d stay and talk it through with her, maybe help her understand why she lied. 
Not that that’s his job, exactly. That’s on her. But… he’s gone. She can’t believe he left. 
She props herself on the end of her bed feeling dizzy. She swallows. It hurts. She looks around the room, sees pieces of his expensive suit strewn about, sees her dress and shoes and panties. Her sheets smell like sex. 
She decides it can all wait and drops into the bed, hauling herself under the covers and closing her eyes. 
At first, Shawn doesn’t do much when he gets to the shop. 
He sits at the freshly lacquered piano, the gloss finally dry. He presses his hands to the lid still covering the keys, spreading his fingers. He breathes through his nose. 
It’s shaky, at best. 
The rational part of himself, the grown up he thought he was, knows he shouldn’t be hiding. He shouldn’t go down this rabbit hole of crazed doubt. 
But he also feels clearer than he has all summer. 
He’s so in love with her. He’s addicted to it. And he wanted so badly for their rekindled romance to be perfect. 
He refused to see the signs. Maya’s never been able to lie to him before. 
He thinks the only reason he didn’t see she was lying about something was that he didn’t want to see it. He wanted everything to be like before. 
But it’s not before. He was stupid to pretend. To let himself believe it. 
He pushes the lid of the piano open. Cracks his knuckles. He hasn’t had a chance to tune it since before painting it, but the scale he plays doesn’t sound too bad. 
Shawn plays any sad song that comes to mind for the next half hour. He gets bored after that, and tired. Tired of wallowing. 
He stands, looks around his shop from unfinished project to unfinished project. There’s a banjo that needs strings and a guitar that needs sanding. There’s also the harp, but it reminds him too much of Maya. She loves that harp. 
He picks up the guitar and a palm sized square of sandpaper, then gets to work. 
Maya falls mercifully asleep. It’s deep, dreamless sleep, like her body knew better than to let her be alone with her own mind right now. It’s like NyQuil knock out sleep.
She wakes up disoriented at golden hour, tangled in her robe and bedsheets. Even though she slept soundly, she seemed to have thrashed around a lot. When she woke up with Shawn this morning, the sheets were tucked in around them almost exactly the way they were when they went to bed the night before. It was usually like that with them.
She checks her phone and sees only a text from her mom about her cousin’s wedding that she doesn’t have the energy to respond to. Nothing else.
She blinks and rolls over, propping up on her arm to look out the window to the driveway. His Jeep is gone. She sits up and stumbles out of bed, ignoring the way her heart pounds with a few last beats of hope as she walks to the other side of the room to check the bay windows facing the beach. She peeks down at the deck, crossing her fingers behind her back. There’s no sign of him.
He left. He stayed gone.
She closes her eyes and breathes but her chin wobbles through more tears. She straightens her robe, retying it around her waist and sets about tidying up her room. They hit it like a drunken hurricane last night. As tears dribble down her cheeks, she ignores them, willful and focused. The sooner she addresses her room and the growling of her stomach, the sooner she can let herself into her studio to paint.
His suit sits in a pile on her rocking chair for the dry cleaners. She makes her bed, unwilling to wash the sheets that smell like him. She jams some avocado toast in her mouth even through her nausea.
The screened in studio around the back of the house is unbearably hot in the middle of the day but now, as the sun sets over the ocean, it’s the only place she wants to be. The first hint of night breeze sifts through the screen. The room smells like sawdust and acrylic paint. She breathes it in greedily like an addict.
Loosely wrapped in her robe, greasy hair swinging around her face, she props a canvas up into her easel and spurts paint onto her palette, letting her fingers pick colors instead of her mind. She swipes at the canvas with abandon and lets herself hurt all over her work. It’s raw and soft and wet, somehow, like three dimensional raindrops trapped on a two dimensional medium. It contrasts sharply with the kind of work she was doing after they first had sex weeks ago, when her skin was still Manhattan pale and her arms were constantly sore from throwing herself into surfing. 
Her brush doesn’t leave the canvas for more than a second to swipe up more color. It runs out of her like blood. If she gets it all out, maybe it won’t hurt anymore.
She’s not delusional enough to think that’s true. This one’s going to hurt for a while. It’s going to hurt until she can find the words to tell him, to explain to him and herself once and for all why she has been so goddamn scared.
Every stroke feels like it uncovers her a little more, lays her bare to her own seeking mind. The words are there. She’s getting closer.
Shawn doesn’t leave the studio for a full 48 hours. He keeps spare work clothes and toiletries in his office, so he doesn’t even have to go home for that. He sleeps on his couch, goes to Starbucks for breakfast, then gets postmates for all of his other meals. 
It’s probably not healthy. 
He can’t be bothered to care. 
He gets more work done than he usually does in two days. He just can’t bare to stop. It’s easier to string guitars and tune his piano than it is to think. To admit that maybe the relationship he and Maya had was one confined to the fantasy world in his head. 
Why else would she lie, and for all summer, if not because she never considered their summer fling anything more than that. A fling. Something to get her mind off of the job she quit until she was ready to move on for real. 
He’s like, the safe option. He’s familiar. He’s the kind of familiarity that could ease her pain while she changed her life with no real plans for the future. He was something to cling to while her whole world flipped. 
A consolation prize.
He supposes he wouldn’t have minded being that for her, if only he’d known. 
He picks up a special can of gloss from the Home Depot, something more decadent, suited  for the careful curls he spent hours etching into the body of his harp. 
He finds a paintbrush Maya once left in his dorm room, one that he’s always kept in a special drawer in his desk, and sits on the floor in front of the harp. He tries not to think too hard about it. About her. 
He focuses on the work.
Maya wakes up in the robe again.
She barely made it upstairs to her room to collapse in her bed before sleep took hold again. She wakes up with her face in his pillow. She thinks maybe she was dreaming about him but she can’t remember. She closes her eyes again and tries to throw herself into the memory. She doesn’t come up with it, but she has others.
She remembers the way he whispered in her ear teasingly ordering her burger the night they met. She remembers the way he would stroke her hair until she fell asleep the night before a big test. She remembers how he felt the first time they ever made love.
She remembers their last night in Avila that summer, a million and a half years ago, when they were children. She thinks about the simplicity of it, how well they thought they knew each other and their futures. 
She’s thinking about it as she gets in the shower because she’s officially super gross even though she hasn’t wanted to wash the scent of his lingering cologne off of her. By the time she’s rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, she’s panting for a paintbrush.
She finishes her shower quickly. She rolls her eyes at the suds she towels off her legs because she’s too worked up to rinse off properly. She has to get to a canvas before her head explodes.
As soon as she enters her studio, hot and bright with the morning sun, her frantic energy calms. This time, instead of ripping through paint and shredding her heart to memorialize on canvas, she sits calmly on the stool she set in front of her easel and spends almost an hour selecting oil paints on her palette.
She sits back and stares at the canvas for a while the way she hasn’t been able to do lately. She’s been too keyed up, all fire and no thought when she sits down to make her art. She hasn’t really painted calmly like this since… before Manhattan. 
When she does put brush to canvas, it’s slow, controlled, thoughtful. She paints with love, not fear. She spends all day on it, taking only short breaks to eat and stretch her hands. By the time she has to turn on her studio lights because all her daylight is gone, she has the roughness of it done, the primary shapes and feeling coming through, but for the level of realism detail she wants it’ll take some serious fine-tuning and her eyes and hands hurt.
It’s the view as she remembers it on the deck of their Avila rental. That last night on the deck with him watching the sunset, tangled up on the daybed. The perspective of the view lines up with her eye level so the sunset stretches out above their entwined legs. It’s so warm she can almost feel him holding her.
She doesn’t paint it because she wants to be back there. She paints it like it’s proof that it’s not who they are anymore. It’s who they tried to be all summer, but they were just kids. They’re them now, fully formed, practically strangers. She hopes it will serve as a reminder to her that they’ve come so far and so much has changed. They can’t fit their old mold, they’ve outgrown it.
The canvas is big, but in that view, their world is so small. As Maya steps away from it, she sees that. And when she falls asleep that night, fingers twitching to return to her canvas to detail the curves of her legs and the patches of bougainvillea that wrapped around the columns, she’s sure she wants him to see this, to understand it with her.
She might have to wait for him to decide he wants to see it, too.
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82 notes · View notes
nephelite · 6 years ago
Text
Not that I think this will happen but damn that would be like the best mind-fuck and an awesome PR stunt that would get people talking about the show.
Station 19 has had inconsistencies throughout the two seasons but I think some of the worst happened in those last 3 eps.
A dream would be a great explanation for that. Dreams make no sense sometimes. Time is different in dreams. One moment you are here the other moment you are there.
Ripley being totally OOC in Grey’s Anatomy. I read this from several people that said he was acting weird. He was not the usual Ripley.
Where the fuck did he get his car from after he left the hospital? He came with the ambulance so did he go back to the flower shop for his car (did he really drive his work car there?) or did he go to HQ to get it?
In the flashback, Jennifer says that they should fly up to visit her. How did Jennifer manage to fly down to Seattle to see her brother when he just contacted her about being in the hospital?
The Gwen tower rescue was weird and unrealistic.
The guy with the chandelier rescue was weird and unrealistic.
Maya’s weird crying over Ripley didn’t make sense.
Jack and Maya being out and everyone just accepting and being okay with it including Sullivan was too easy.
Vic being back to work right after his funeral didn’t make sense.
The drive to LA (which happens the day after the funeral where Travis punched pornstache guy) according to Sullivan was 22 hours. The drive back is 22 hours and they must have spent time in LA like at least a day. Yet Travis gets arrested for something he did 2 nights ago. How does that work?
Travis gets arrested at Vic’s place? How did they know he was there?
The whole scene with Dylan and Travis saving that patient went too smoothly and perfectly.
Travis and Dylan make out at work during a wildfire after having known each other for a couple of hours.
Jack knows sign language.
Vic’s last moment is her being asleep. The writers have the perfect opening to make it all a dream and a what if thing. Have her wake up and find him alive in bed with her, in her shower or have him walk out of the bathroom.
Alternative scenes to what happened:
Ripley left the hospital but before he was able to find a car to look for Vic, Maggie and the other find him and drag him back to the hospital where he gets treated right away. Sullivan makes sure that everyone that was at the coffee beanery goes to the hospital for a check up because of the hydrofluoric acid.
Vic and Ripley get to have their moment together like it happened. He doesn’t die just gets prepped for surgery. Vic walking the corridor with everyone staring at her after his death is in reality him being wheeled off to surgery with Vic holding his hand and the firefighters watching them. Their secret is out. He survives but is still intubated and the toxins are still being filtered out of his body and so on.
Vic alone in the diner. She says he is at work. Reality: He is in the hospital and she hasn’t been able to go there and see him.
When she tells everyone that she is not going to the funeral. Reality: It’s really her telling everyone that Jennifer is there with him in the hospital and she can’t go there and see him like that.
Jennifer and Sullivan talk to her about funeral. Reality: Jennifer urges her to come to the hospital but she just can’t and refuses and instead concentrates on work.
Fight with Travis about going to the funeral. Reality: It’s about not going to the hospital.
Scene with Schmitt. Reality: Ripley walks in (is being wheeled in by Schmitt) with the flowers telling her he wants to spend the rest of his life with her and doesn’t want to wait any longer.
Scene with the girls helping her get dressed for funeral. Reality: Helping her get dressed for wedding.
Funeral scene. Reality: It’s their wedding and and it’s wedding bells. Sullivan can eventually officiate instead of giving the eulogy. Maya and Andy still make up. Sullivan looks at Andy while making a speech about when you find that one person. Maya and Jack hold hands still happens.
Celebrating Ripley at bar. Reality: Reception for the happy couple that is missing where everything happens the same as it did on the show including Travis punching the guy for saying nasty things about Ripley and Vic.
Vic alone at diner telling Cam Ripley died. Reality: The happy, just married couple snuck off to their diner to celebrate and tell Cam the truth that they weren’t married before but they are now.
California Wildfire. Reality: Vic goes like it happened. She is in a bit of a mood because she had to go while her husband is at home recovering (he insisted). Her scenes with Dean and Terry still make sense only that she doesn’t say he died but almost died and is now alone at home recovering while she is in California.
And the storylines that have been set up for S3 for Andy/Sullivan, Maya/Jack/Dean/Nikki, Travis arrested and Ryan leaving can still happen even if Ripley dying was a dream.
Like I said I don’t think that this will happen but it wouldn’t be impossible if they wanted to because they have the perfect opening with Vic being asleep.
You can tell that I just really want Ripley back lol
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captaindaddykru · 6 years ago
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The 100 Ask Game
i was tagged by @foreverandalwayscrysis even though i accidentally end up ignoring her for weeks bc i’ve migrated towards twitter. major dumb b*tch energy.
1. What Station on the Ark would you be from? probably argo station bc im from the south and im surrounded by farmers. theyre everywhere. get me out.
2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark? yelling at someone in command for being a basic bitch? fighting for equality? stealing meds for the poor?
3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground? if bellamy asked me to? y-yeah.
4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..) i’d love a turtle
5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be? ok if we dont count miles ezekiel shaw bc he was in more than two eps, definitely wells.
6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? bellamy, clarke, raven, shaw & harper. 
7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to? there is only one kru<3<3 anyway, floukru if it was my own decision.
8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? sumn like maksim? or just maks? idk the whole language is confusing to me
9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious. did everyone try the chicken? i thought the chicken was lovely. nah, all jokes aside -- what he did to raven was absolutely disgusting, but i kind of liked his storyline. how he went from being holier-than-thou to absolutely losing his damn mind over clarke to point he shoots up an entire village of innocent people? it was interesting. but he died when he shouldve.
10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? im not gonna take shit. grass is always greener on the other side.
11. What character do you relate to most? definitely clarke. thats why i’m so hard on her.
12. What character do you like the least? echo. groan every time i see her face.
13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical) oh i love this one! uhm. probably like jeans, but ripped. black ankle boots. a shirt -- something with cleavage definitely, i think a regular tanktop. a dark jacket. idk. i would always have a gun/knife holster on my thigh i think. (ok i wanna look like lara croft). and i would enjoy if i could wear any shade of lipstick. i would want that to be my trademark. i find berries or sumn in the first ep.
14. Favorite type of mutant animal? that monster spying on lincoln and octavia in the woods. wonder what happened to that one.
15. What would your job be on the Ark? something medical for sure.
16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked? yeah no biggie im (almost) a nurse. ive resucitated ppl before.
17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive, then who would have made the best commander? dont kill me, but definitely luna. i know she didnt want it, but she wouldve been the best fit.
18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty? probably cry all night or get super giggly. either or.
19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach? i dont believe in the dead penalty in modern times, but like she was old enough to know killing people aint right. especially not for revenge on an innocent person. so i say the murphy method.
20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone? they shouldnt have one person in charge, but if they have to, i’d say clarke. fuck them old ppl tbh.
21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis? i think bellamy went through some personal stuff that made him side with pike. if i were in the situation myself i think i would be digusted by pike’s xenophobia, but if they said there was an army outside waiting to kill us. maybe i would buy it? idk. depends on if i have all the info i guess.
22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s iPod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there? MUSIC PLAYER
23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? war paint on my lips!!! and i’d wing the shit out of my eyes too. as for a hairstyle probably like a lob, sides braided back. i dont like my hair up so mostly just keep it down. tattoos? idk if we’re all dying anyway, i’d say fuck it and do a whole sleeve of flowers.
24. Favorite quote? can i be a soft bellarke bitch for a sec and present clarke’s entire speech in 4x13 or ‘if i’m on that list, you’re on that list’. that or “who we are, and who we need to be to survive are very different things”
25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? clarke or murphy. team cockroach bitch. is this the time i plug my own thg fics? 
26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non-canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE
if i cant say bellarke its gonna be a short list. canon? zaven and memori. non-canon: sea mechanic, wellven, murphamy. 
27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo? BIG DREAM would be taylor swift but i dont think her current era fits with the show (plus its the cw....like they gonna give up half of their yearly budget for a three sec cameo?). i think aly & aj’s new music slaps and they’d fit in the whole new earth aesthetic. 
28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time? write blarke fanfic with him probably. 
29. You’re an extra that gets killed off. How do you die? i’d wanna die protecting bellamy lmao. just a full on beheading or something.
30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? literally no one. they’re a season too late. ok. maybe shaw. but thats over now i guess :/
31. A character you’d bang? bellamy, clarke, raven, shaw, emori, harper, monty, wells, diyoza. its a cw show. come on.
32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?  if i was on the show i’d go up in space to prevent becho. if you have me the choice now, i’d stay in eden.
33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?  i’d definitely not eat human meat. death it is i think.
34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits? tryna murder blodreina for making me eat humans.
35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with? i’d bond with monty over biology i think. i would have a hard time getting a long with murphy or echo. i love the first as a character but irl i’d kick his ass. 
36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself? if i have eden? as long as i have until the next apocalypse.
37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do? try and blow them up while they sleep or sumn? or idk. if i was alone, maybe just better to make friends.
38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite? diyoza+, mccreary-.
39. Would you Spacewalk? i would probably? i’d be terrified but what a way to go?
40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat? ive accidentally gotten bugs in my mouth before and like i said im not eating humans, so -- space algae.
41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it? war didn’t help anyone. in the end, no one got to live on earth. i’d try and compromise i guess. or once they trust me, try and kill the eligius ppl in their sleep anyway.
42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes? stick the thumb drives into bullet holes. i have fear of ‘alive’ things being in or on the human body. 
43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia? for clarke? yeah. if she was as loco as octavia, definitely. or i’d kidnap her and say she killed me.
44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper? sleep, definitely.
45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet? bellamy, clarke, raven, emori, shaw, murphy, jordan and since somebody usually dies on these explorations, i’d allow echo to come.
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icantbeme71097 · 7 years ago
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You Were Right Dee...
Okay, so this is a Sanders side short, I loved the post that inspired this short which you can find HERE and I recommend giving it a look before reading because damn, it's amazing as hell! I hope to start writing more soon but am currently still on hiatus, but feel free to send requests in and I'll hop right on 'em.
Tagged:(if you would like to be tagged please let me know by comment or ask) @maya-tl @faacethefacts​ (you wanted to be tagged)
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  (I don't know what's up with the spacing)
Virgil could feel the hateful glares that were coming from the others. He knew he fucked up some how majorly this time. Being Thomas' anxiety, he knew what others were feeling and how their possible conversations could turn out. He knew how this conversation was going to go, even being in his room alone, he could feel their hate. He didn't know why they hated him now, or why they took him in if they hate him before...
He knew what they were thinking, what they felt towards him. He thought he was truly accepted but he was proved wrong yet again. They wished he stayed gone instead of going after him like Logan and Patton wanted because of how much of a mess Thomas was. Sure he didn't read minds but their body language said a lot...He sat in the corner of his room with his knees tucked to his chest, the darkness enveloped him, giving him a nice welcome.
The only reason he had a room on the light side was because they accepted him into their small family. Their hate and distrust floated on the floor of the the room as a thick fog that swept through, it also followed him around as a thick cloud both above and at his feet. Even though Patton, Roman, or Logan can't see the mist unless they actually looked for it, Virge kept himself away to wonder what would happen.
"Hello, Virgil.” He heard a dark voice say that was followed by a snake like hiss. “I just popped in to see if you wanted to go with Remy an-” Deceit popped in fixing his gloves before looking up at Virgil and trailing off on his sentence.
"HeY DeE...” Virgil said as his voice had been distorted by the shadows around him.
Deceit's face fell somewhat, his usual smirk gone by how distorted Virgil's voice was. He looked around and noticed all the fog. “Oh, I see... I'll be back...” He growled and briskly walked to the door and was about to open it.
"NO! DoN't LeAvE, dOn'T tElL tHeM!” Virgil yelled making Deceit look back at him. “PlEaSe.” He said as tears started falling and his eyeshadow started blending with the tears leaving dark trails.
"Oh Anx, what happened?” Deceit asked going back and kneeling down next to Virge. He hated the way things were turning out for Virgil, he was still a dark aspect and still a part of the dark side family.
"YoU sEe It, I dOn'T eVeN kNoW wHaT I DiD....” He said as he covered his face with his hands as he cried more.
Deceit knew he was a supposed bad side but look what the light sides did to the youngster. He knew they would have to know sooner or later of what they did to him. To Deceit, the three were just as bad as him, they lied and hurt Anx who was supposed to be one of their own.
"Anx, can I hold you?” Deceit asked softly, not wanting to startle the anxious and obviously upset aspect. He received a small nod, quickly scooping him up and holding him close. Placing him on his lap, he wrapped his arms loosely and rocked him from side to side.
"I'M sOrRy DeE...” Virgil said quietly. Deceit raised an eyebrow wondering why he was apologizing. “I dIdN't LiStEn To YoU.” He cried more, letting the eyeshadow melt with his tears.
"Oh Virge...I'm sorry, I tried to tell you...” Deceit said softly, it filled him with rage at how broken Virgil sounded. He just kept crying harder, letting loud hiccups fill the room.
"YOU WERE RIGHT DEE, THEY HATE ME!!! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I DID!” Virgil yelled suddenly through his hiccups.
"Of course I was... Would I lie to you?” Deceit whispered, regretting how he let him know. “Would you like to come back to the dark side and live with me again?” He asked as the younger started to calm down. He lifted Virgil's chin with his gloved fingers to look at him and noticed how dull his eyes were.
"WoUlD I Be AbLe To Do My JoB fRoM tHeEe?” He asked quietly.
"I don't see why not, you had no problem the last time you were there.” Deceit informed, Virgil snapped his fingers and everything he had was gone, placed back where they used to be in the Dark side of Thomas' mind. The shadows were also gone, transferred along with his stuff. Virgil smiled softly but the smile didn't meet his eyes.
"Let's go home Dee.” Virgil said in his normal voice. He snapped his fingers again and a note appeared in the middle of the floor stating 'Don't bother coming after me again, I'll do my job in the Dark side with Deceit. Do you see the fog? That is your hate towards me.'
~~
They disappeared without a single sound, the three only found the note because they hadn't seen or heard from Virgil in a while. They gasped in horror as they read the note and looked around the room. The fog was so thick that they didn't know where they were stepping. Even though they knew they wouldn't hit anything seeing as how the room was completely bare.
They regretted hurting Virgil to the point he moved back to the Dark side with Deceit. Patton felt incredibly guilty and knew he wouldn't see him again and that he wouldn't want to see them again. He hated himself for letting it happen, hated himself for doing that to who he associated as his son. Roman and Logan knew as well that the chances of them seeing each other was now almost a tiny sliver.
Patton fell to the floor and cried while the two stood in silence remembering everything they said and felt towards Virgil. The fog started thinning out and dispersing but it was way too late. The damage had been done and there was no taking it back.
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urwarriorangel · 7 years ago
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‘anything you want’ (bellamy blake au, part vi)
Prompt: You never thought this day would come. Never in your darkest hours of your darkest days did you think he would die, and not in this way. You couldn’t seem to stop crying. Everything around you reminded you of him, of one of your best friends. You never thought he would kill himself, yet here you all were. It’s the morning of his funeral and you couldn’t bring yourself to get up. You figure if you just stay in bed, he wouldn’t be dead. Maybe if you just rest, he would still be with you. Because fuck, facing the fact that he’s dead would be the thing that kills you.
Pairings: Bellamy Blake x Reader, Linctavia, Raven Reyes x Wells Jaha
Warning(s): holy fuck, the angst! character death, Bellamy and reader reconnecting, language, mentions of suicide 
A/N: hi loves! I know it’s been a while and I’m back with some fucking angst, but man I hope you guys appreciate it! also please keep in mind that I haven’t watched s4 of ‘the 100′ so some of the things in this fic might be incorrect and I’m okay with that! I really hope you guys like this part because it’s dear to me and I love it so much. the next part will be a continuation of this and it may be the ending! still deciding! either way, please enjoy and lmk what you think!!!! (no gifs are mine)
just want to say I love you all. depression is a bitch, and I’m proud of all of you who go through your everyday life with it. suicide is a real, heavy issue and if any of you need someone to talk to, know that I’m here and that there are professionals who are much better suited than I who are willing to help you. HERE is the post with a collective list of National Suicide Hotlines around the world. I love you all xoxox
PS: to anyone who thinks that Bellamy and Angel have made up too fast, they haven’t. they’re Nyko’s godparents and they’ve made their peace with one another. they’ve become slow friends. this is one and a half years after Nyko’s birth, fyi.
‘anything you want’ masterlist
You came back home to celebrate his birthday, excited to see everyone for the first time since Nyko’s first birthday. It’d only been a few months and you kept in touch with everyone, but holy shit it would be good to see them all. It’d be great to see Jasper especially though, to finally give him a long, hard hug and remind him just how much he meant to everyone. You and Jasper had always been good friends, both bonding over drinks as you poured out your depressive hearts. He was the first person you called when Finn broke your heart. You were the one he’d reach out to when his thoughts were especially dark, and when you couldn’t physically be there, you’d make sure Monty was. The two peas in a bod, as you all liked to call them. It was gonna be amazing to see your friends again.
You were a little surprised when O texted you the day before your flight and told you everyone was busy and couldn’t pick you up. Jasper was supposed to pick you up, you were his distraction for a few hours while everyone else got the party ready. But you shrugged it off, thinking maybe he’d found out about the surprise party and now there was another plan.
You were a little surprised when you got off the cab outside of Octavia’s place and were met with silence: the apartment was empty and try as you might, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The lights were off, asides from the one in the kitchen. There were no birthday decorations.
You were surprised when Bellamy walked in and grabbed your bags, making his way to the kitchen almost as though this had been rehearsed.
You were surprised to find a note on the counter-top, addressed to you and Bellamy, who’d gone upstairs to put your bags away. The note read,
Y/N, sorry we’re not home. There are some things that need to be taken care of, but we’ll all be together soon. Bell, if you’re there, help Y/N get situated. We’ll be home soon. We love you,
L+O
“Bellamy,” you whisper, turning around to look at your friend, now standing behind you. “What the hell is going on? You guys didn’t forget about Jasper’s birthday did you? It’s today!”
“No, Y/N. We haven’t forgotten about anything. I promise,” he whispers and now that you’ve gotten a better look at him, you can see the bags under his eyes and the red rims around them.
“Bellamy what’s going on?” You whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady as Bellamy takes a step forward and you take one back. You hear the door open and shake your head a little, unable to keep your thoughts intact.
“Y/N, please--”
“It’s okay, Bellamy. I’ve got it,” you hear Monty’s voice and you walk around Bellamy, coming face to face with Monty, with Octavia and Lincoln, with Clarke, with John, with Raven, with Wells.
“W-what’s going on?” You could feel the tears fill your eyes as you take note of everyone but Jasper. “Where’s Jasper?”
“Y/N,” Monty whispered, knowing that by this point you’ve figured it all out.
“Where is he, Monty? You know how much Jas loves his birthday! And c’mon, he’s gotta be missing me. It’ll be a great surprise!” You nod excitedly, the tears streaming down your face as Octavia starts crying, unable to hold herself together. “O, it’s not that bad of an idea. Oooh! Is that what we’re doing? Are we gonna go surprise him? He found out about the party, didn’t he?”
You shake your head in disbelief as a red-eyed John walks over to you.
“You guys all look like a wreck, oh my god. I mean I know we agreed the dress code would be casual, but I was thinking more “game day” casual not “I’m high and haven’t slept in days” casual,” you laugh softly, the tears continuously running down your face as you grow tired of everyone’s silence.
“Why is noone saying anything?” You laugh a little and go over to Raven, who’s now crying. Your one friend who showed very little emotion in public was now openly bawling her eyes out. “Guys, please. Someone say something,” you whisper, rendering everyone silent with the evident heartache in your every word.
“John?” You turn to him and he shakes his head, walking away as the tears made their way down his face. “Monty?” You walk over to him, laughing painfully through the tears as he shook his head and looked down, unable to speak.
“Bellamy?” You whisper, a soft smile painted on your face as the never-ending tears glisten in their tracks. “Bellamy, please. No one else is saying anything. They just keep crying and walking away. Please,” you whisper and he looks up, his heart breaking at the frail sight of you. “Please say something, anything.”
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“Y/N,” Bellamy whispers, wiping the tears out of your eyes and brushing the hair out of your face. He presses his lips against your forehead and holds you close, body shaking as he tries to find the right words. “Jasper’s gone.”
The last thing you remember is a piercing scream escaping your mouth and shattering every person’s heart even further.
Today is the day, and everything hurts. Every bone in your body aches, every breath you take tears your lungs apart, and every moment you spend awake shatters your heart because all you can think of is Jasper’s lifeless body being being lowered in the cold, hard Earth.
Octavia had tried to get you out of bed repeatedly, but nothing was working. You couldn’t get up. You couldn’t face it all.
“Y/N,” you hear Bellamy’s whisper, you feel his hands gently rubbing your shoulders. Still, you make no move to get up. “Y/N, get up.”
“Bellamy,” you whisper and turn to face him, tears falling once again before you can even properly wake up. “Everything hurts.”
“I know, sweetie, I know,” he whispers and brushes his fingers against your forehead to calm you.
“I don’t know how to make it stop,” you whimper and keep your eyes shut, Bellamy’s heart aching at your broken state.
“Let’s start by you waking up, okay?” He wipes your tears and gently raises you, pressing his lips against your forehead as you slowly open your eyes. “There we go.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a baby,” you whisper and look down, wrapping your arms around yourself as Bellamy furrows his brows. “I just miss so much by being away. I can’t help but wonder if any of this was my fault.”
“What? Y/N what are you talking about?” Bellamy sits next to you on the bed and you sniffle, shaking your head before resting it against his chest.
“I was the person he came to every time he was feeling down. Every time, he came to me. The last time he called, I was a little busy and I had to call him back but something felt wierd. What if I hadn’t had to hang up?” Your bottom lip trembles and you start sobbing as Bellamy holds you close. “Bellamy what if this is all my fault?”
“My sweet angel,” Bellamy wraps his arms around you, tightening his grip on your fragile body. He kisses your forehead as you sob quietly against his chest, his heart racing at the thought you of you ever doing what Jasper did. “Y/N none of this is your fault, I promise to you. This is none of our faults, least of all yours. Jasper loved you. And that love transcends everything. This is the first time I’m mad at Jasper, you know?”
“What?” You look up at Bellamy and you can see all the pain in his voice.
“I’m not mad at Jasper, you know? He was in pain, and while it kills me, I’m happy that he’s at peace. He said his goodbyes to us all, left his note to you. I miss him, and it hurts,” Bellamy finally breaks down, his shoulders shaking as he holds on to you.
The man who has been able to keep you and everyone else together and alive for the past week is now breaking down in your arms. He’s sobbing uncontrollably, the tears running down his face as the realization hits.
“Bellamy,” you whisper and stand up, holding his face in your hands as you watch him physically crumble. You hold him close, his arms wrapping around your thighs as his tears soak the front of your shirt. “Jasper loved you too, you know?” Your bottom lip trembles as you speak up, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Remember when he and Maya broke up? He hated just about everyone but you, Bellamy. Jasper looked up to you, you inspired him.”
Bellamy looks up at you and you wipe his tears, sniffling as you give him a wobbly smile.
“And like you said, that love transcends everything,” you lean down and kiss his forehead, letting your lips linger until you feel him calm down. “And you should know,” you whisper and straighten yourself out, your hands still gently holding his face. “I can’t thank you enough for how strong you’ve been for everyone. We wouldn’t have been able to go through this without you. Thank you, so much.”
“I hope none of us have to go through this again,” Bellamy whispers, his hands still wrapped around the bottom of your thighs.
“I know, baby, I know. I hope so, too,” you whisper and your eyes meet Bellamy’s, heart aching for him. “How about you get some rest. It’s my turn to take care of everyone.”
“Why is it that you and I always take care of everyone else?” He whispers, pulling himself away from you and slowly getting into bed.
“Because we take care of each other, too,” you smile and run your fingers through his hair.
“Thank you,” he whispers, holding your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. “And can I please say one more thing?”
“Of course,” you nod, smiling at the way he absentmindedly intertwined his fingers with yours.
“I just want to say I’m sorry, for everything. I know this seems like the easy way out, but I’m so incredibly sorry. It won’t make everything okay, and I understand that. I just think it needs to be said. I think more than anything, I just need to say it. It doesn’t make me feel any better, it won’t make things better right away, but fuck am I sorry,” he whispers and your eyes meet his, both glazed over as the two of you think of the past, of how stupid everything seemed. “And everything I did was terrible, it’s not a small thing to get over. I get that,” he sighs as tears fall out of his eyes again, bringing your hand to his lips as he places a gentle kiss on each of your knuckles. “Now go,” he chuckles softly and lets go of your hand, his thumbs quickly wiping any trace of tears off your face. “O is in bad shape. She stinks a little, I think.”
“Hey,” you playfully slap his arm, laughing a bit yourself. “You stink, too. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to shower, okay?”
“Alright, okay,” he smiles at you and you kiss his forehead, slowly getting up and heading out to see the others. Bellamy slowly closes his eyes, and you watch from the doorway.
“Hey, Bell?” You smile as his eyes quickly open up. “I love you.”
“I love you, Y/N. I love you,” he smiles back, a feeling of hope rushing into his heart for the first time in years.
He lays down on his back, looking up past the ceiling and smiling at his friend who he’s sure is there laughing down at him and saying ‘I told you so’.
“Okay, maybe you were right, Jasper.”
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mcsmlightnings · 7 years ago
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Chapter 4. Loneliness.
The next day when I woke up I didn't even understand at first where the hell I was. I couldn't feel my warm and cozy bed, I couldn't hear a thing. I slowly sit on the cold floor and looked around. The second after that I remembered everything.
I was thrown in a small cell without even a bed. Unlike Gill and Maya, who shared a cell, I was all alone. I remembered that when Reginald had been escorting me I had noticed that the prison had an unusual constraction. It was seperated into two different parts: a hallway with two or three cells and a small room with one cell in it. My friends had been thrown in a cell in that hallway but I had to live in that lonely room. No, it was clear why they had seperated us, but still... I couldn't even talk to anybody.
My sell had nothing in it! Not a bed, not a chair, just a small window with iron bars. So I stood up and came closer to the window. It was a little breezy outside and I could smell that scent that always appears after the thunder. Guess, it was raining that night.
The only thing I could see through iron bars were some woods. It was still pretty dark outside but warm, so I supposed it could be somwhere about a half an hour before sunrise. The I noticed something moving behind one of the trees.
I held my breath and looked closer. I could swear I saw a shadow changing its position, but then everything froze, like nothing even happenned. Once again I felt chills running down my back and a cold sweat on my forehead. Was I seeing things? Was I paranoid? I couldn't answer any of these questions.
Everything was still but I couldn't go back to sleep. So I sit in a corner, curled in a small ball and scratched my wrists. Guards had taken handcuffs off, but they had already dug so deep under my skin my wrists started bleeding.
Somehow I managed to fall asleep on the cold floor. And then for the first time in this world I had a dream. Actually, it wasn't a real dream, just a mix of emotions. I was scared and lonely, and it felt like everybody hated me. And then I felt the worst pain that ever existed shot through my spine. It was complete hell, I tried to scream but couldn't choke out even a silent sound.
Then I woke up, shaking in terror. I could have sworn I had seen something in my dream, but couldn't remember what it was. Still, it seemed really important, as if my whole life depended on it.
I shook the nasty feeling off and looked through the bars outside. The sun had already rosen and I heard some people talking with each other. I couldn't do anything but sigh. They were happy. Will I ever be happy again?
Then I heard footsteps inside the prison and turned around, just in time to see four guards coming through the door that seperated me from the outside world.
- Prisoner Aiden, turn to the wall and put your hands behind your head. - One of them ordered.
I obeyed and heard how they unlocked the iron door to my cell. Next thing I felt were my wrists pulled together behind my back. Click - and cold metal of handcuffes wrapped around my sore wrists. Not again!
I went out of my cell and, surrounded by four guards, started walking outside. I had no idea where I was going but I was pretty sure it had something to do with my "community service" punishment. Neither Maya nor Gill were in their cell, so I had a chance to at least see my former friends.
It was warm outside. Actually, it was so warm and blinding after the prison, that I froze for a few second, just breathing.
- Move! - one of my guards shouted and punched me in my back. I sighed and started walking.
I was led into the woods that were near my new "home". Then, when we finally stopped under one of the oak trees, another guardian, I believe, John, took the cuffs off and handed me a wooden axe. The second I touched it, everyone pulled their swords out and pointed them at me.
- Do not do anything dangerous, or else.
Instinctly I backed away a little. I mean, who wouldn't if they faced four strong men with sharp blades who would never hesitate using them? But my mission was simple, so I started cutting the tree down.
That's how I spend all day: cutting down trees with only a wooden axe, which I had to craft again four times since they break so fast. All my body was aching, I couldn't feel my legs, but the guards punched me if I tried to rest. After six or seven of trees I managed to forget about the swords and my escort.
When the sun finally set, I, once again, was disarmed, handcuffed and led away. Suddenly I noticed Maya and Gill beeing led away as well. Unlike me, there were only two guards escorting them. Gill noticed me and smiled, but I saw it wasn't easy for any of them to hold on. I nodded and tried to smile too, but another punch from my guards broke this weak facade.
I came into my cell. Guards took the cuffs off and gave me  a loaf of bread. That was when I realised I was starving, so I sit down on the cold floor and started eating. Man, even though I was a prisoner, the food here was really good.
Then, when all the loaf was eaten, I sighed and looked around, only to be faced with complete darkness. I didn't even understand how late it was! And then I realised there were no torches in the whole room.
- Oh no no no no no! - I murmured, backing away, until my back felt cold touch of the iron bars. The moon light lit up the small space around window, so I curled myself in a ball and sit down, shaking in terror. Yeah, it has always been one of the most humaliating things in my life - stupid fear of darkness! Then I remembered a song my mother used to sing me as a lullaby. I had no idea what language it was written on, but even after all these years I remembered every single word.
  Под небом голубым
Есть город золотой
С прозрачными воротами
И яркою звездой.
А в городе том сад,
Всё травы да цветы,
Гуляют там животные
Невиданной красы.
I started singing, trying to imagine my mother sitting next to me in our old house. It seemed to be so long ago, before all this envy and hate. I remembered her soft, always warm arms and how gently she hugged me. I remembered her amazing scent, her beautiful blue eyes and long hair, which'd had the same colour as melted chocolate. All this nostalgia made my heart hurt even more, and I couldn't hold on anymore. My tears started running down my cheeks, my sobs silenced the song and I buried my face in my hands, crying my entire soul out.
- You'll get used to that.
I flinched and jumped up, staring at Reginald, who was looking at me through the ajar iron door.
- What uh... - I weeped my still hot tears off. - What do you mean?
Capitan of the royal guard rolled his eyes.
- I mean, you deserve beeing punished and you know that. But you will get used to feeling guilty and lonely. Everyone does.
- Oh, I know, I know. It's not that. - I nervously chuckeled. - It's just... I remembered something, that's all.
Reginald hesitated a little before coming inside. He took out a torch and I instantly came closer to the light.
- You, um... You shouldn't be held in such loneliness. I mean, I'm not sure about your mental health. Have you even talked to anybody today?
Did he sound worried? About me?
- Huh, no, not really. I'm not allowed to speak. - I sighed, rubbing the back of my head.
- Oh. Yes. Right.
Reginald shook his head and was about to hide the torch when I stopped him. I couldn't be alone in the darkness again.
- No, wait!
- What?
I saw his right hand near his sword, ready to attack.
- Can I, please, have this torch? I, uh... I'm scared of darkness.
Capitan of the royal guard shrugged and placed the torch on the opposite wall in the room, making sure I couldn't reach it.
- Thank you. - I tried to smile. He turned around and nodded.
- You should sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. - he said and left me alone, locking the door. I sighed and laid on the cold floor. There was something moving in the outside but I didn't pay attention. After all, Reginald was right. I had real problems with my mental health.
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