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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Note

Ok you amazing person. Demon Sapnap, but the reader is really sick or maybe is in an accident and ends up in hospital. Sapnap and Dream both visit and get jealous of eachother. Eventually Dream leaves and Sapnap is just there like 👁👄👁 And then after a day or two the reader is finally home and Sapnap is like really pent up because he has been jealous Horny and reader has been in hospital and he just rails them, but softly because reader is still weak. Basically jealous soft-dom Demon Sapnap.

This is just an idea- by no means do you have to write it :)

I'm begrudgingly writing Dre as Mr. Steal Your Girl for obvious reasons (/ j), but also I couldn't pass down this idea for incubus 3 ;) I'm also going to include a few other requests I had about Sap's backstory and some smut. enjoy!

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 & 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (𝟏𝟖+)

warnings: smut (18+), spanking, degradation, thigh riding, domination, literally quoting the b!ble

here's a playlist for those of you that were asking for it. i would love to see what the rest of you are listening to :)

previous part

You opened your eyes slowly, the ache in your body fully coming to your attention as you noticed the metronome of beeps coming from the machines connected to the tubes in your arm. You turned your head, squinting as your eyes struggled to focus on the figure beside you. After a few minutes, your brain pieced together his features and your heart eased when you realized it was Sapnap. For some, obviously ungodly reason, his presence brought you a sense of calm.

His feet were kicked up on the edge of your bed, his eyes scanning over a magazine as he chewed on his bottom lip absent-mindedly. He was dressed more casually than he usually was, probably an attempt at blending into the general public. You reached out a hand, fingers brushing against the soft material of his dark crewneck to get his attention. His gaze moved to look at you, a smirk painting across his pink lips.

You cleared your throat, tongue feeling like sandpaper. “What happened?” You grumbled, reaching beside him for the remote to elevate your head.

He watched your movements carefully. “You got a fever and then passed out cold,” he reminded you softly, making you groan. “Dehydration.” You couldn’t remember what he was talking about, only feeling nauseous in the middle of the night.

“How long have I been here?” You asked, rolling your head on your shoulders as your neck cracked, your limbs popping as you moved slightly. The IV pinched your arm as you moved, making you hiss quietly, making his eyes focus on where it was attached.

He hummed in thought. “A few hours. They wanna keep you until tomorrow, just in case you die or something,” he shrugged, tossing the magazine on the couch in the corner of the room.

You rubbed one of your eyes, a yawn rippling through you. “And why are you here?”

He chuckled. “Obvious reasons,” he stated, nodding towards the bite on your shoulder. “Also, Saint Dream was the first on your emergency contact list, so…” You pulled your knees to your chest as you looked at him.

“Even if it’s just because you have a quota to meet, I’m glad you’re here,” you muttered and something flickered behind his eyes, a smug expression tugging at his lips.

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, feet planted on the ground. “You’re not part of my quota, baby.” Your cheeks flushed at his words but before you could respond, he tensed up, eyes clouding with a darkened gold. They always shifted when something was intruding. You furrowed your brows at him. “Lupus in fabula venit enim ad me,” he mumbled darkly, the venom of sarcasm dripping from his voice as a knock came at your door.

Clay stuck his head through the threshold, eyes softening at you. Sapnap watched him silently as he stepped inside, rambling off how worried he was about you. Clay seemed to ignore Sapnap’s presence as he settled a batch of roses on your nightstand. Sapnap rolled his eyes and once Clay finally acknowledged him, he made a face like he was smelling something rotten. Sapnap looked like he was ready to snap Clay in half if he approached you closer, yet his dark demeanor didn’t dissuade Clay. In fact, it seemed like Clay was hell-bent on ruffling his feathers more, pulling up a chair on the other side of you.

“I didn’t think he would be here,” Clay commented, voice dipping slightly as his sights shifted toward Sapnap, irises flashing brighter. You perked an eyebrow at him.

Sapnap scoffed, leaning back in his seat. “I’m here because she wants me here,” he commented, nearly with a boasting tone. “So, it seems like I’m in the right role to ask what the fuck you think you’re doing.” You kept silent as the two played their game of wits and egos.

Clay smirked at him as if he was in possession of some esoteric knowledge. It dawned on you that you weren’t sure how old either of them actually was. You had dated Clay for god knows how many years, yet you learned more about his past from Sapnap than you had in any of the years you were together. “It’s still in her best interest that she be given options that don’t involve your kind,” he gritted.

Sapnap laughed shortly, a cockiness settling into his appearance. “Oh yeah? In her best interest or in yours, you selfish prick.”

Clay’s jaw tensed, a sigh flooding from his nose. “We can do this more maturely, you know? Like fucking professionals.”

Sapnap shook his head. “I’m not up for negotiating,” the stated bluntly. “Go near her again and I’ll report you,” he assured, his deadpanned stare making your heartbeat quicken.

Clay swallowed, eyes glued to Sapnap’s as the pair of them flexed their dominant personalities. Clay’s eyebrow twitched as if he had thought of something, almost mockingly. “Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit,” he began, making Sapnap roll his eyes again before cutting into Clay’s quote.

“-enemy of man’s salvation. Give place to Christ in Whom you have found none of your works,” he mocked. “Try and exorcise me all you want, feather boy.”

Clay’s hand moved to curl around your wrist and Sapnap leaned against the bed, as if asking Clay to make his next move. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour-“

“Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings,” Sapnap cantered without a thought. “It’s not even the right verse for this, stupid bitch,” he grumbled.

You cleared your throat, pulling your arm away from Clay and trying not to look as if you were slinking towards Sapnap. “You should leave,” you stated, Clay’s lips pursing at your words. “I need to rest.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sapnap’s sly expression cutting into Clay.

After spending another night in the hospital, you were finally unlocking your apartment door and letting Sapnap help you out of your coat. You mumbled something about getting yourself a drink and he brushed you off, already doing it himself. Your mind was racing with questions after what you had witnessed between Clay and Sapnap. You hadn’t doubted the authenticity of Sapnap, but your mind still ran with what had happened to him. He handed you a water, sitting down on your couch as you paced slightly.

He broke into your thoughts. “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking,” he stated, unbuttoning his shirt slightly. You wanted to hex him about the fact that he probably already knew what was pounding against your temples to be asked.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, rolling over your questions to censor some of them. “The bible’s been translated and reprinted so many times, how are you still…” you gestured with your hands, unable to explain where you were going with your statement.

He chuckled, brushing a hand against his chin. “It really doesn’t matter if it’s actually God’s word or not. It’s a guide, like an outline. Rules, I guess. Think about it like the Constitution.”

“I thought demons like… burned up when someone quoted the bible at them…”

His face fell a bit at this. “No, we just can’t read it,” his tone was almost regretful, sending guilt to pulse through your body because you had asked. “It’s like it’s in a completely different language, and each time I look at it, it shifts around the page. When you get dragged into hell, something happens with your eyes.” He huffed slightly, wetting his lips. “It's kind of like an isolation thing. He wants you to be completely aside from him.”

Your mind clicked, eyeing your heirloom display case. “Can I try something?” You asked, popping open one of the doors after he hummed in response. You fished out your grandmother’s rosary, the cross feeling almost heavy in your hands. You turned on your heel, bringing it closer to him before dangling it in front of him. His eyes drifted away from it, his gaze turning up to you. “Does this bug you?” You probed, making him snort. He took it in his hand, thumb caressing over the design.

He shook his head, chewing on his lip. “It’s a shameful thing really. I feel guilty whenever I look at this kind of stuff,” he muttered; you sat on the arm of his chair and looked over his shoulder. He turned, looping it around your neck. “Does it bug you?”

You held it away from your chest. “For different reasons, I guess.” You stood again, putting it back in its spot beside a photo of your grandfather. “Why’d you get kicked out?” You queried softly, peering over your shoulder.

He was watching you. “Maybe another time.”

“What about your childhood?” You asked. “Did you have one?”

“I know more about your childhood than I do my own. Why all the questions?” He countered with a soft laugh.

You shrugged. “I want to get to know you…” You mumbled, your hand drifting up to rest on your shoulder, feeling heat coming off of his scaring bite mark. “How do you know when to show up?”

He sighed, leaning his back against the chair and stretching his legs. “I can feel when you get anxious. Angels have some kind of block though, that’s why it took me so long to realize you needed me when that bastard was over here.” He shook his head almost like a new fire about Dream had been lit. His eyes flickered up to you. “Unless you weren’t scared.” You shook your head quickly at his joke. He chuckled. “How does it make you feel that I’m in your head sometimes?”

You approached him again. “Narcissistic,” you answered plainly, sinking to your knees before him. You ran your hands up his thighs, a smirk growing on his features as he sat up to be closer to you. “What happens after I die? Eternal damnation?” You questioned, as his hand went to brush against your arms.

He pressed his lips to your neck before digging his fingers into your hair as if he’d been waiting to touch you for days. You hummed as he kissed you, the slight scruff of his unshaven face feeling soft against your cheek. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that. I think I’ll make you immortal or something. Being with me should be enough damnation,” he jeered, making you laugh. “Most of my colleagues take the souls of their targets and leave, but I enjoy your company,” he teased.

“But you already have my soul, right?” The line felt strange coming from your mouth.

His lips brushed against yours. “There’s still an innocent piece of you that I haven’t tapped into. Everyone has it; I like it in you.”

Your eyebrows perked at this, fingers digging into his thighs to make him groan. “What do you mean?”

He kissed you briefly, actions getting needier the longer you were between his legs. “It’s completely pure. Untampered by sin or desire. When a demon gets it, they go feral,” he mumbled, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, teeth dragging across your skin.

You tilted your head to the side, fingers tracing over his zipper. “Take it from me,” you breathed, leaning into his touch.

“No,” he answered blatantly.

You moaned as his tongue slipped against your collarbones. “I want you to have it,” you continued, voice uneven. His fingers tugged at your hair.

His breath was warm against your shoulders. “I’ll take it after a few years. I don’t want it now.”

You pushed him away from you, his eyes already blown with lust as you looked into them. “You just said demons want it so badly. Take mine.”

He chuckled, hands dropping to your jaw. “No,” he repeated, voice light.

You sat back on your heels, looking up at him with a tilted expression. “Is mine not good enough for you?”

He wheezed. “No, it’s perfect. I just… After I take it, it’s like you’re dead. You’re not the same. Your humanity is gone.” He pulled you back up towards him. “I’ll take it when I’m ready to escort you to hell.”

You quipped an eyebrow. “Oh, so you just don’t want me to see your place?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. “Maybe Clay was right. What’s the verse about confession?”

His eyes darkened playfully. “For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” It was mind boggling how he could probably quote the whole Bible and was as… sinful… as he was. “Bring up Dream again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”

Your eyelashes fluttered. “You bargain for a fun game," you quipped.

He chuckled darkly. "It was more a light-hearted threat, dove," he muttered.

You sat forward and pressed your lips against his hungrily, letting him pull you into his lap as his fingers curled into the loose ends of your hair. Your fingers ripped at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest to you as he tugged at your own clothing. Your teeth dragged against his lips as his hips ground up against you, needy for friction.

You pushed your tongue into his mouth, moaning as his hands moved to your thighs, his blunt nails raking against your jeans. You rolled your hips against his lap, feeling him harden beneath you. He spread his legs further, coaxing you to grind against him as his hands pushed you down to rut against his leg.

You were breathless as you pulled away from him, one of his hands fisting in your t-shirt to bring you close to him, lips and tongue pressing against your neck. "I didn't tell you to stop riding my thigh," he commented darkly, bouncing his knee to make you moan.

Your hand wrapped around the wrist of his hand holding you in place, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as heat spread across your body. He pulled your shirt over your head, your bare chest at his mercy. Your mind blurred at the sensation and the feeling of him sucking his mark into your skin, making it clear who you belonged to.

You moaned, digging your face into his neck as he rolled his hips against your leg. "Please, Sapnap. I need you," you whimpered, voice a soft whisper in his ear. He chuckled darkly, ripping your pants down your legs as you fumbled to unzip his slacks.

He pulled you onto him without warning, a groan leaving your lips as he suddenly filled you up. "Bold of you to beg for me after associating with that bastard," he bit, thrusting up into you. "I should tie you up and let you suffer for that."

You moaned at his dark tone, grinding your hips against him. Your lips ghosted against his as your cheeks began to feel warm from the stimulation. "I might like that," you jested, your sentence breaking with your voice as he harshly grabbed your hips, driving himself into you harder.

"You're lucky you're still weak," he nipped, voice swirling with lust and power. "I'd throw you over my knee for that comment." His fingers dug into your hips, grinding against you as you bounced on top of him. You moaned at his words. His hand snaked up to wrap around your throat, threatening to apply pressure as he continued to direct your movements, thrusting into you at a deep and reserved pace. "Dirty girl. You want me to punish you, don't you?"

When all you could do was mutter a small beg, he pulled you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a mess of hair, teeth, and tongue. He moaned into your mouth, the taste of his breath was addictive and bliss-inducing.

He pulled you off of him and onto the couch beside him, slipping his shirt the rest of the way off. "I'll fuck the angel lover out of you," he joshed, a hand coming down sharply across your ass; the pain making you moan his name, hands gripping the couch as he pressed your shoulders into the cushion.

He dragged your hips into the air, pushing into you again, rocking his hips against yours with a small grunt. His teeth were sharp against your skin as he pounded into you and an animalistic pace, your mind numbing at the feeling. He pushed your knees further apart to pump himself deeper into you.

You moaned as his weight settled on the hand pinning you to the couch, your hair sticking to your sweaty face as he spanked you again, hand gripping your irritated skin. "Good girl. Take it," he nearly growled, making your skin crawl with an added layer of pleasure. While his pace and mannerisms were ruthless, he was definitely holding back, knowingly going easy on you because of your already weak body. That didn't mean he wasn't reminding you of your sour attitude as he pulled your arm behind your back, his hips snapping against your own to firmly instill his name in your mind.

You reached for the arm rest, a grounding element for you as his motions drove you over the edge in a teeth gritting orgasm, boy flushing with goosebumps under his command. You rocked your hips back against him as he pulled out, jerking himself off instead of giving you the satisfaction of finishing him off.

You groaned as you turned to look at him. "Feeling okay?" He asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade. You shook your head quickly and his eyebrow quipped ever so slightly. "Good," he stated, pulling you up and onto the ground in front of him again. He grabbed your cheeks. "I still don't think you've learned," he muttered, leaning back into his previous position. "Blow me," he directed, tucking an arm behind his head. "And with the mouth, one confesses and is saved, remember," he taunted.

Your eyes flashed up to his devious expression as he leered at you from his commanding spot.

It was going to be a long night.

And you were ready for it.

Taglist: (to join, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @deepestofwaters @glowstick-cafe @unstableye @tinyegg @darphobic @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg

#incubus!sapnap #sapnap smut #sapnap x reader #sapnap imagine #sapnap au #sapnap x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x y/n #mcyt smut #mcyt imagine #incubus au

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liesoverthec · 3 years

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OG 911 Character Details from Canon Pt 2

Hi y’all I’m back! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reblogged the last details post - I sort of just thought people would like it and it would die, so to see it travel and hopefully reach more writers was so great so thank you again!

Details under the cut since I went a little crazy 😅 and if this is your first time seeing this, the first part, and any future parts, can be found under this tag here!

Quick note before I get to the details - always, ALWAYS take details from dialogue or plot over details from the set or props if they contradict each other. The writers have the ultimate say over what happens on the show/for the characters, so whatever they say goes, even if it goes against something props has already laid down (eg, Chim’s birthday, sorry Libra crew. He’s an Aries or a Pisces). So keep that in mind for the future in case some of these details I have which are from props/set are changed in the future, or if you’ve noticed something yourself!

Also if you have questions, I am MORE than happy to answer them, although if you leave them in the tags on this post I’m probably gonna lose them, so if it’s something you’d genuinely like an answer to, drop it in my inbox! Besides my standard “ask” tags, I’m also tagging asks about canon details with this tag here. Every time I make a big post like this, I’m going to link all the asks I’ve gotten since the last post, but if you’re looking for more info in the mean time, that’s the other spot to look!

Buck has a grill on his patio.

Eddie doesn’t hang Christopher’s art on the fridge - instead it is either hung on the corkboard in Chris’ room to the left of the door, or Eddie puts it in an actual frame and hangs it using a hammer/nails in Christopher’s room. All the Diaz family has on their fridge is a bunch of bendy people magnets. (I absolutely ADORE him putting all this effort into treating Christopher’s art like it’s something you’d buy from a professional artist).

Info on everyone’s ages can be found here. (Little more discussion of Chim’s situation here).

Albert has a bachelor’s degree! I don’t know in what though, except that it’s some field for which is a Master’s is useful.

Athena was in a sorority in college, Delta Sigma Theta. Their website describes them as “ ...a sisterhood comprised primarily of Black, college-educated women ... [that] considers the issues impacting the Black community and boldly confronts the challenges of African Americans and, hence, all Americans ”, which I love for Athena, and feel is very in-character for her at that time in her life!

Chim is an aviators dude. When he wears sunglasses, they’re always aviators.

Athena also wears nothing but aviators.

Bobby wears square aviators.

Eddie, on the other hand, always wears Wayfarers.

Buck either doesn’t really like sunglasses or he constantly forgets he owns them, since we’ve only seen him wear them once in 60 eps, in a move I’m pretty sure was ONLY for dramatic effect.

Hen’s sunglasses change style over the seasons like her regular glasses do, but she tends to like browline sunglasses.

Info on Christopher’s school can be found here!

There are two colors of dispatch polo, and there doesn’t seem to be any rhythm or reason for who wears what. Maroon - Maddie and Linda. Blue - Josh and May. Jamal has actually worn both maroon and blue, so it doesn’t seem to be TOTALLY set in stone although I’ve never seen anyone else switch. Sue is too badass to wear a dispatch shirt.

Both Bobby and Eddie drive 4 door pickups. Bobby’s is navy. Eddie specifically has a black, 2020 GMC Denali 1500 pickup truck (in case you want to specifically look up what the inside of it looks like or what features it has 😂)

Info on the 118’s medical certifications can be found here.

Correction to Eddie’s living situation from last post: no next door neighbors, but instead UPSTAIRS neighbors. (Pointed out by Abigail in this ask). Also since someone else was wondering the notes of the last post - no, there is absolutely no discussion on the show of whether or not Eddie rents the apartment or owns it. But based on the fact that it’s 1) LA and 2) an apartment, my guess would be he rents it.

When Maddie isn’t feeling like herself, she tends to straighten her hair rather than curl it. It seems to be more when she’s uncertain about her place in her own and other people’s lives, rather than just when she’s simply worried - eg it’s straight in 2B, when she’s uncertain if she wants to continue working as a dispatcher/is unsure about her relationship with Chim.

For work, Chim, Eddie and Buck all use black duffel bags with a LAFD patch on the top. Hen uses several different cute bags, and Bobby seems to have a plain black duffel bag.

Watches - Bobby, Athena, Chim, Hen and Buck all wear their watch on their left wrist (but Athena ONLY wears hers for work, she takes it off at home.) Eddie wears his on his right wrist, and Maddie doesn’t wear one.

Chim (and Maddie by default) literally still have the exact same couch as in the pilot. (Which means that Chim has cuddled Tatiana on that couch, AND Albert has had sex on it. TIME TO GET A NEW ONE, BUCKLEY-HANS 😂)

The 118 has five different rigs - the engine (E118), the ladder truck (T118), two ambulances and the captain’s truck. 95% of the time, when the team is chilling in the cab of a rig and chatting (eg the ‘stuck under a live telephone pole’ scene in Jinx), they’re in the engine, not the truck. (Which I personally learned recently are NOT interchangeable terms!)

Athena and Michael got married when Athena was 37.

If you’d like to give Maddie a full name beyond “Maddie”, you should use Madeline. (I know, I know, in 4x04 she says Maddie is the name on her birth certificate, and that you should never use props details if they contradict script details, but I always thought that was a super weird exchange in 4x04 which could be explained by Maddie getting a nickname since she was born when Margaret and Phillip, you know, actually loved their kids and showed it, so of course Buck doesn’t get one, and in 4x04, Maddie was trying to avoid the entire issue of why she got one and Buck didn’t. But! Do what you want, and use Madeline as the full version of Maddie if you’d like, since that’s what’s on the BOLO in 2x13 😂)

Athena’s call sign is 727 L30, but she doesn’t have a specific squad car - the number changes throughout the series.

Chim really likes chewing gum, but he’s the only one out of the entire family!

The station has an Xbox One S, and it’s white.

In the real LAFD, there are stations 1 through 114. To avoid confusion while filming on the streets (I’m assuming), our fictional LAFD never uses the number of a real station. So if you want another station for a fic, and you want something that would be real in OUR universe, use the numbers 115 and above. They’ve gone as high as 221 in our universe.

Battalions - station 118 is in Battalion 7, which is also not a battalion in real Los Angeles. The 118 has interacted w/ Battalion 1, which is a real battalion, but other ‘non-real which makes them more likely for our universe’ battalions include numbers: 3, 8, 13, 16, 19 and above.

S1 Buck knew the term Jedi, but based on context, didn’t understand AT ALL the context provided by Star Wars, so there’s another edge of his pop culture limits for you.

Chim is the most tech-savvy out of everyone, hands down.

Athena has a VERY active Twitter account.

Abuela’s house number is 8902. I don’t have a street name for you unfortunately though. :/

Athena’s favorite flowers are white roses. None of the other women are really flower people.

Michael likes to wear purple.

When they’re at a call, Buck does pretty much all of the stuff with the hammer and the saw. Eddie does all the work needed with the drill.

Harry goes to Meadowbrook Elementary.

Buck lives on the fourth floor of his apartment building, across the hall from Apt. 416. The lovely @lovelessmotel found this listing for what is more or less the apartment. What happened was: the set crew rented this apartment for the one episode at the end of s2 when Buck moved in, and then over the summer before s3 built their own set of it, and changed some things - eg giving him an island, and moving the sink to a second counter against the far wall, you can see the changes here in this amazing gif set by the awesome Austen, but the listing should let you click around a little more upstairs and figure out dimensions better than what the show provides!

When Athena and Hen go out to eat together, it’s always fast food burgers and fries.

Waffles are Athena’s favorite food, and tiramisu is her favorite dessert.

Every takeout we’ve seen Buck eat has always been in a Chinese food takeout container, and we know he likes Thai food the best. EXCEPT! The one time we see him eat takeout with Eddie and Christopher, they have pizza. So take from that what you will......

Eddie has a cell phone and a landline.

Chim is a shameless multiple texter.

Chim and Bobby sleep closest to the door in their respective bedrooms (both right side of the bed if you are standing at the foot, facing the headboard), and Athena and Maddie sleep furthest away from the door (left side).

Some canon last names for other firefighters at the station in case you wanna add more people to a fic - Mitchell, Sanchez, Serrano (woman), Porter, Meyers (woman), Maxwell, Voyta

Hen and Karen really love decorating their house with dark/red wood.

Karen is Mommy and Hen is Mama.

Bobby has a brother, and a grandmother, and that’s literally ALL we know about his family outside of Marcy and the kids.

Evidence points to Eddie being the oldest child in his family.

Karen has multiple brothers (no sisters), but no idea how many - just that one of them is named Trey, and one of them lives in LA and has kids. They might be the same brother and they might not be.

Both Hen and Athena are only children.

Athena has been on the police force for 30 years.

Christopher and Denny are the same age (born in 2011), and Harry is two years older than them.

Michael lives in apartment 308.

The bank in this universe is CalAm.

Hen and Karen have a picture of Denny, May and Harry on their fireplace mantel.

Eddie having a black thumb + a lot of plants in his living room = him buying fake plants bc he likes the aesthetic ™ or someone (cough Carla cough) is taking care of them for him.

The COVID timeline in OG’s universe is fucked up compared to the real world’s, so it shouldn’t be used as a way to measure time! They just throw it in wherever it makes sense for the story they want to tell (eg the vaccines in s4 ep 8), since s3 was both done before COVID hit but also airing while it was happening. It makes absolutely no sense for May to graduate in March nor for Chris to be going to what is specifically labeled summer camp, and the vaccine plotline was INCREDIBLY early, even for real life, so don’t use anything from that as a measure of time. I’ve found except in specific examples, eg the two tsunami episodes, it’s very safe to say every episode covers a week - fall holidays on the show line up with their real life counterparts, indicating about the same amount of time is passing for us and them.

On that note - Jee-Yun was born in late January, early February 2021. (Conceived in Pinned, which was end of March/beginning of April, meaning Maddie was around a month along at May’s graduation in May ➡ 42 weeks + 3 days from then = late Jan/early Feb. Which unfortunately means we most likely won’t see her birthday celebrated on screen. If we assume she was conceived on the date Pinned aired, aka the very sexy hotel scene, then January 21st or 22nd would be Jee’s birthday, depending on if she was born after midnight or not.

Buck has had at least one other Jeep between the one Maddie gave him, and the one he has now, which means that when he needs a new car, he is purposefully choosing Jeeps.

I hope this was all as interesting/enjoyable to you as it was to me! And just to repeat - I love answering questions so pls let me know if you have any at all ❤

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

Tagging: @buckbuckley

#911 fox #911 canon character details #athena grant #bobby nash #chimney han #hen wilson #maddie buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bathena #madney #henren #buddie #userac #hey yall if anyone else wants to be added to these tags let me know #im happy to do so #I feel like I have v little for Bobby here sorry :/#I’ll work on getting lots for him next time

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jinkicake · 4 years

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Mouthful

You suck them off while they’re on the phone.

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Miya Osamu x Reader

Here you go Anon, I hope you like it!!! I am pushing the Oikawa, Kuroo, Bokuto bffs agenda because we were robbed of that interaction. I just know they would all be good friends like please,,,, imagine these mfs in college together as roommates.... It would be so perfect and they all have the brooding quiet type s/o heheh.... Also, I saw spoilers for bnha and um..... ummm.... UMMMMMM

SEMI-SMUTTY // NSFW

WC- 1,830

~~~

Kozume Kenma

Kenma has the best poker face, nothing is going to give away the fact that he is getting head

Except for when a tiny, tiny, appreciative sigh leaves his lips…..

Then the other person on the line, most definitely Kuroo will be like ‘Yo, what are you doing~’ Yes, Kuroo can tell when Kenma is getting head and will probably praise him for it

I think if you first try your advances Kenma would simply stare at you with disgust, making no effort to hide that same level of repulsiveness in his voice

He’d go along with it though because he is not going to try that hard to stop you, ‘why waste that energy’

His nimble fingers would card through your hair and he would instantly become relaxed like his shoulders would go limp and he’d flutter his eyes shut

Kenma would still be able to keep up with the conversation though because he doesn’t really add that much input anyway

However even though most people wouldn’t find any difference in his change of attitude….. Kuroo would notice, how can’t he? He would notice the subtle changes in his pudding hair best friend and would be like ‘are you getting head right now’

To which Kenma would go bright red and tense up really quick and try to hide it but ultimately give up and just sigh in defeat ‘yeah’

Kenma doesn’t like talking on the phone,,, you take it upon yourself to help him relax~

Kenma pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, trying hard not to let the hiss escape his lips. He doesn’t glance down at you, he knows that if he did, he would come undone. The feeling of your warm mouth sucking him in so nicely, your cheeks hollowing around his legnth, your tongue running underneath his cock, it makes his knees utterly weak.

“Yeah, I met that dude Oikawa, I don’t know why everyone hates him. He seems like a cool guy to me,” Kuroo aimlessly rambles, going on about how he met the well-known setter. “he’s going to hang out with Bokuto and I next weekend. You wanna come?”

Kenma sighs and it’s not because of your tongue. He silently thinks long and hard before speaking up again.

“No.”

You end up gagging on his length, blame on the fact that you tried laughing while sucking him off.

“Kenma, you’d really like him.” Kuroo persuades and Kenma mentally pictures the pros and cons.

“I’d rather play video games,” Kenma’s fingers rake through your hair and he makes the mistake of looking down at you. A quiet moan leaves his lips, the perfect little ‘ah’ that he doesn’t even hear himself. The line goes quiet for awhile and Kenma assumes that it is because Kuroo is trying to come up with another reason why Kenma should join them.

“Is (Y/N) giving you head right now?” Kuroo asks boldly and you gag once again, pinching your eyes shut at the humiliation. Defeat washes over Kenma.

“Yeah.” He sighs and Kuroo hums slightly.

“Finally, good for you, take it like a champ.” Kuroo praises and Kenma’s nose scrunches in disgust. “Anyway, I’ll come by at like nine on Saturday okay? Oikawa is only in Tokyo for the weekend.”

Kenma never can win, can he?

“Fine.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo is suuuuch a showoff, please he will do it just to make you flustered

He will purposely roll his shoulders back, sit on the couch all arrogantly, stare straight into your eyes as he bites his lip, use his hand to push his hair back while purposely flexing his bicep, he does it all for your enjoyment as well

He is eye-candy and that bitch knows it,,,,, anything for his lovely s/o

Kuroo wouldn’t make any noises though because he doesn’t really want to get caught in the middle of a blowjob. You would refuse to finish him off and then he wouldn’t have your sweet mouth anymore…..

But,,,, if someone did catch him in the middle of a blowjob, Kuroo would not be embarrassed, please his ego would flourish I feel like he is into that kind of thing

Side bar…. Sometimes I go off with Kuroo and I think,,,, is this too occ? because I remember he is just a big science dork but then I remember no he is a scorpio and then it all makes sense, Kuroo is the best of both worlds

Kuroo wouldn’t be able to pay attention at all to the conversation at hand like Bokuto could be asking him questions about something and Kuroo is just like ‘yup, it was really hot today’ like he can’t keep up….. not when you’re so generously sucking him off

Then Kenma is like … and Akaashi is like … because they can put two and two together unlike their oblivious friend

It gets to the point where Kenma will start doing something else, like playing a video game while Bokuto tries to keep a conversation going between four people all by himself

Please, Kuroo is the ultimate tease with you but….. if he is going to get pleased then he will also try to please you as well

“And then the vice-principal got mad at me,” Bokuto groans loudly, his eye twitching as he thinks back to the incident that happened earlier in the week. “it’s not my fault he wears a wig!”

“Bokuto that was not the reason you got in trouble,” Akaashi sighs disappointedly, Kuroo doesn’t pay attention to them.

“What happened?” Kenma comments, slightly curious in the conversation at hand. Kuroo gently cups your cheek, running his thumb against your skin lovingly as he stares down you. At the sight of your teasing eyes and sinful tongue sucking on the tip of his hard cock, his thighs twitch beside you.

“… then Bokuto spiked the principals head to ‘kill the bug’ and also set his wig back to normal.” Akaashi finishes, heaving another disappointed sigh.

“See, I was helping him. He should be thanking me not scolding us for an hour.” Bokuto complains and Akaashi tries not to slap his captain through the phone.

“This is what I deal with on a daily basis, I even have a notebook to predict his next moves.” Akaashi tells Kenma, his head still numb from the scolding he had to endure earlier in the week.

“I don’t think anyone on our team is that bad, maybe Lev,” Kenma thinks and Kuroo licks his lips, his eyes darkening when he zones in on your mouth.

“Kuroo, is he even listening?” Bokuto asks curiously and Kenma narrows his eyes when he pieces together why his friend is so quiet. He knows Kuroo is either getting head or giving it.

“Ignore him, Bokuto, it’s good we don’t have to hear his voice.” Kenma tosses out and Kuroo gasps. Of course, out of everything, that is what he heard.

“Kenma!” Kuroo snaps and the setter simply hides further under his blanket on the other end of the line. “I’m just busy,”

“With what?” Bokuto eagerly pesters and Kuroo glances down at you once more.

“Stuff.”

Miya Osamu

Osamu also has a good poker face, nothing can give away that he is getting head…. There will be no slip-up from him

Unless Atsumu says something and Osamu’s competitive side jumps out for a hot second then…… then there is a slip up

‘Fuck you ‘Tsumu, I’m getting head that’s why I don’t care about your bullshit story’ cue a dramatic gasp from Atsumu and Ojiro on the other end of the line like … silence

Yeah, Osamu doesn’t do well when provoked…. Good luck with that one

Osamu wouldn’t say no to getting head like if you got onto your knees and pushed your hair back,,,, Osamu would be like ‘shit, here we go again’ he might be hesitant at first but then he will cockily accept it

He’ll carry on the conversation with disinterest, not really paying attention because all he can do is stare at you

Sometimes he will fuck your face,,,, literally….. he has no shame but when you gag too loudly then he lets you have control again

Osamu doesn’t really want to get caught…. He wants to shield you away from that

His little comments that he slides in conversations here and there will probably be noticed once he stops saying them because he is preoccupied with other things. The team can’t figure out what has him so distracted though

Osamu is usually pretty gentle,,,, until he gets angry so if you suck him off while he is having a conversation with Atsumu…. Good luck

“I have to help my grandmother around the house today, so there will be no practice. Take the day to rest.” Kita’s voice sounds throughout the multiple phones and Osamu lets out a soft hum. His eyes are staring directly at you while he holds your hair back out of your face, despite his neutral face you can still see the fondness swimming in his eyes.

“Say hi to gran for me!” Atsumu says and Ojiro glances at him, the two on the same device as they walk through the city.

“No.” Kita responds and Atsumu sighs dejectedly before going off on Ojiro when he starts to laugh at him.

Osamu continues to pay no attention to him, instead, he thrusts into your mouth while holding your head still so he can control the pace. It feels so good, he could fucking cum-

“Yo, ‘Samu what are you even doing? Reading your old man magazines?” Atsumu snickers when he notices how quiet his brother has been. Osamu closes his eyes momentarily, trying to calm himself down from snapping. He gently pulls himself off of you, allowing you to take over the pace.

“Eat shit ‘Tsumu.” Osamu snaps back, now watching the way your hands grip his strong thighs as you bob your head along his length.

“My grandmother-“ Kita starts but is quickly cut off.

“Ah, the shit that you cook ‘Samu?” Atsumu retorts, sticking his tongue out despite Osamu not being able to see it.

“Stop it, my grandmother-“ Kita tries again but Osamu interrupts him. The grip in your hair tightens as his anger grows.

“You really like that shit then since all you do is fucking eat it!” Osamu curses and Atsumu decides to tease him even more.

“I’ve never seen (Y/N) eat your cooking, that’s how you know it’s shit.” A gasp is heard right after Atsumu’s comment, Suna’s mouth falls open in shock.

“She eats all my cooking, I feed her well but right now she’s too busy sucking my dick.” Osamu spits and you immediately pull off of him, your mouth a perfect ‘o’ as you stare up at him in disbelief.

“You, right now?” Atsumu asks slowly and the line goes quiet.

“My grandmother is listening, I have the phone on speaker.” Kita finally finishes and the Miya twins start to count their final days.

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @littleshopoflove @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee

#kozume kenma x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #miya osamu x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #osamu x reader #kenma smut #kuroo smut #osamu smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut

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bonnyskies · 3 years

Text

royal heartache ⇢ pjm

there was no place for a simple commoner like you in jimin’s heart. now when someone who had royal blood and stunning beauty stood right before him.

part one of “royalty bundle”

pairing — prince!jimin x physician!malereader, ft. princesss!femaleoc, king!seokjin

genres — angst, minor fluff, sexual themes, royalty!au

warnings — major angst, swearing, sexual themes, infidelity, unhealthy relationship, mentions of death, reader is a sweet soul and jimin is a dick, seokjin is a precious man who is whipped for somebody he barely knows, jimin is a manipulative person, reader is an insecure sad boy

word count — 6.7k

masterlist

“Have you heard the news? Prince Jimin is arranged to marry Princess A-Yeong of the Choi Family.” “Really, when?” “By next week.”

You could literally feel your heart breaking inside your chest while the two servants that stood fairly close behind you whispered softly to each other. They were trying to be quiet, but failed miserably. Gossiping was frowned upon in the palace and if anyone was caught doing it, they were punished.

Despite their words making you ache internally, you continued your duties, plucking the grown medicinal herbs out their plots of soil and placing them into the straw basket beside you.

“I heard she is one of the most beautiful women in the country,” the whispering between the two servants continued, “no wonder the King picked her for the prince. With her and prince’s looks, they’ll definitely make a remarkable heir for the kingdom.” The other servant nodded her head in agreement, both of them too engrossed in their conversation to notice you kneeled down in front of them, fingers gripping the herb and tightly crumbling the green leaves.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps was heard, tearing you out of your thoughts and forcing you back up onto your feet, quickly wiping the dirt stains on your cloths with your bare hands before turning around to face the approaching figure. Your heart stopped inside your chest when seeing who the person was. Park Jimin, the twenty-five year old prince and only heir of the Park Kingdom stood right in front of you, and his eyes were only focused on you. You were too distracted by his intent gaze to even bow—which people of your class is suppose to do in a royal’s presence. “Greetings, your Highness,” the two servants spoke at the same time and bowed when seeing the young prince.

“Leave,” was the only thing he said, his stern voice making both you and the two servants jump slightly. It was rare—and you mean really rare for the prince to ever use that kind of tone. “And if I ever hear you two gossiping again I won’t hesitate to throw the both of you into the dungeon, do you understand?” Their eyes widened at the threat and quickly nodded their heads. “The only reason I’m letting you two off with a warning is because I have more important matters to attend to. Now, leave.”

The two servants practically sprinted away, leaving just you and Jimin alone in the gardens. You were practically shaking at your feet, tearing your gaze away from him and staring down at the ground. As he slowly approached you, you could feel your heart stammering inside when he cupped your chin and tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “I’m guessing from the way you’ve been avoiding all day today, you heard about the news—plus those two servants weren’t exactly being subtle.” And when you chose to be silent he continued, “you know that the princess means nothing to me, right? I love you, and only you. This doesn’t change anything—”

“It changes everything, Jimin,” you cut him off, pushing his hands away and grabbing the basket of medicinal herbs from the ground. “You’re getting married, you’ll have a wife—someone you have to bed with and produce an heir,” you could feel yourself wince at the thought of Jimin being with someone else, being intimate with someone else that wasn’t you.

The relationship you have with Jimin has been going on for about two years, and everything has been perfect—at least until the news about him and the princess getting married began to spread around the palace. Whenever you tried to bring it up to Jimin he’d just say that it was just a rumor. But now, after hearing other people talking about it—including the King and Queen earlier today, you know it’s true.

“I’m telling you, ____, that this marriage means nothing to me—that girl means nothing to me.” Jimin took you back into his arms, and this time you didn’t fight him, instead you placed your head on his chest. “The only person that I love and will only love is you, you hear me?”

“Promise,” you tilted your head up to see him, holding your hand up to show your pinky finger. That caused Jimin to chuckle before hooking his own pinky finger around yours and saying, “promise.”

You were an idiot to believe him.

The moment Princess Choi A-Yeong stepped inside the palace your heart sunk into your chest.

Jimin’s eyes never left hers as she slowly made her way down the decorative carpet to the three thrones where he and his parents currently sat. You could see his gaze practically burning into her and that was making you feel uneasy. The rumors about her being the most beautiful woman is no doubt true—you can see that now and that only made you feel even more insecure and paranoid. She was dressed in gorgeous pink and white royal robes, decorated with expensive gold jewelry. Her long, black hair that looked like it would go down all the way down to her lower back was held up with a stunning diamond pin. It almost looked like she was wearing the entire palace’s wealth on her, which only made you more self-conscious. After seeing her, there was no way Jimin would choose someone like you, a physician instead of princess—a beautiful princess.

“Greetings, your Highnesses,” the princess bowed, bending her body forward and you swear you could see Jimin attempting to peak at her exposed cleavage. You don’t blame him, like why wouldn’t he? Her body was literally perfection. Her body was slim, yet had curves that would make any man drool. “Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home.”

The Queen didn’t hesitate before jumping up from her throne and approaching the young girl and helping her up with a wide smile on her face. “Oh my dear A-Yeong, you don’t have to greet us so formally. You’re family.” That only made the crack in your heart spread even more. You have been serving the Park Family ever since you were a child—you even played with Jimin in the early years, and yet you were still treated like absolute garbage and forced to greet them formally every time. And if you didn’t, you’d get punished.

“I’m sure you know why you’ve been summoned,” the King—Jimin’s father spoke up, earning a nod from the princess. “We’re all here to discuss the proposal of you marrying my son—” “—I accept,” the princess quickly shouts out, surprising just about everyone in the throne room. The reaction though made the King chuckle and smile widely at the young woman. “That’s great! What about you, my boy? Do you agree with the marriage?”

Wait, your mind suddenly stopped, so their arranged marriage hasn’t even been finalized yet?

You turned towards Jimin, expecting him to decline the agreement. But once again you were let down, your heart finally shattering into millions of pieces when hearing his answer, “I accept.” You didn’t realize you were nearly crying until the Queen called out for you, catching your attention and making you quickly wipe the tears before facing her. “Yes, your Highness?”

“____, would you take A-Yeong to her chamber.” You opened your mouth to answer, not knowing what to say exactly. “Umm, your Highness I’m no longer a servant—I’m a physician now, for a year—” “Then what are you doing here then and not at your part of the palace?” She then asks, her tone instantly changing and making you jump slightly at the harshness of her voice.

You quickly bowed your head apologetically. “Forgive me, your Highness, I’ll take my leave.” You turned around and started to leave. If you were being honest the reason, you were here was because you wanted to see the princess yourself—which wasn’t the best idea for your heart. And just as you were about to step out of the throne room, you suddenly heard Jimin’s voice again and his next words only brought more pain to your chest. “I’ll show her to her room, mother.”

Swallowing the lump in the back of your throat, you started making your way back to your section of palace like the Queen requested you to do so—which happened to be in the far end where no one goes to except for treatment for injuries or illness. You never had any visitors that wasn’t there for medicinal purposes except for Jimin, who would sneak into your chambers almost every night to sleep with you—and you couldn’t help but feel like those nights were slowly coming to end now that the princess and his future wife was here.

When arriving to your chambers, you were shocked to find somebody sitting on the edge of your bed—and this wasn’t just anybody. Your eyes widened when seeing the former Queen of the Park Kingdom, Jimin’s grandmother right in front of you. “Your Highness,” you were about to bow your head but was stopped midway when she reached over and placed her hands on your arms. “Oh honey, you know you don’t have to greet me so formally.”

Raising your head back up, you asked, “if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? I’m sure you have way more urgent things to do other than waiting in my chambers for me.” You watched as she then took you into her arms and gently rubbed her hands up and down your back soothingly. “I heard about the marriage,” was all she said at first before feeling the tears build up in your eyes again, “how are you doing, honey?”

Jimin’s grandmother always treated you nicely. Out of everyone in the palace she was the only one who has ever made you feel welcomed and loved—excluding Jimin. She was the family you always wanted but never could have. She was also the only one who knows about your relations with her grandson and chose to stay silent, saying how your happiness was important than some royal tradition.

You leaned yourself into her and whispered to her, “he’s going to marry her...,” a single tear escaping and sliding down your cheeks, “he’s going to have a family with her and leave me—”

“Oh stop it,” she quickly cut you off, running her hand comfortingly through your hair. “Jimin loves you so much, ____, he looks at you like you are his whole world.” She tries to reassure you, but when seeing the downed expression on your face she then asks, “what’s wrong sweetie?”

And your next words made her heart break. “She’s now his whole world.”

Jimin’s grandmother spent the rest of the day comforting you, making you sure you were eating and resting instead of stressing over everything that is happening right now. And once she knew you were asleep, that’s when she decided to leave.

But you didn’t stay asleep for long. Only a few hours passed until you found yourself waking up, instantly noticing the dark sky and bright moon shining through your chamber’s windows. The next thing you noticed was the empty spot beside you on your bed—which is where Jimin would usually be sleeping. Every night, every since you two started your relationship he would sneak over to your chambers to sleep with you. It has been happening for over seven hundred and thirty days without any change but now, he wasn’t here—the same night the princess arrived to the palace. Many insecure and paranoid thoughts began to consume your mind, making your heart ache and palms start to sweat.

You stood up from your bed and made your way out of your chambers, curious as to where Jimin could be and your first idea was to try his room. When getting there, you could barely notice the candle light shining from underneath door, that meant he was in his room. With your eyes trained on the bright light, you slowly reached over for the indent of the door and just as you were about to slide the door open, the sound of someone laughing stopped you. But it wasn’t just any kind of laughter, it was a woman’s laughter. You froze completely, heart stammering heavily inside your chest and legs trembling, nearly giving out. You then slowly slid the door open just barely so that there was a small enough crack to see through, and your heart sunk in your chest at the sight in front of you.

The princess could be seen laying on Jimin’s bed, the same you’ve laid on numerous times, dressed in a thin layer of pink robes, hair untied and down her back, and face clean. You glanced to the side to see Jimin laying right beside her, also wearing his sleepwear. Smiles were on both of their faces, the sight breaking your heart.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” the princess suddenly spoke up, running fingers up down Jimin’s arm. “Sleeping in the same bed together will let us get closer to one another, know each other better.” You don’t know why, but you were expecting him to tear his arm away from her but you were once again let down, tears stinging in your eyes when seeing him grab her hand and press a kiss along her knuckles. “Me too, and by the time of our wedding comes, we’ll be closer than ever because of this.” It was like each word he was saying was a knife piercing your heart. You couldn’t watch anymore, you couldn’t watch him begin to move his lips up her arm to her shoulder blade and neck, leaving even more kisses along her smooth, pale skin. You pushed yourself away from the door and headed back to your room with tears sliding down your eyes and silent sobs spewing form your mouth.

When entering your room you immediately climbed underneath the covers and attempted to let sleep engulf you. You just wanted to forget about this day entirely and hope all of this was just a terrible dream. But you couldn’t have that either, because not even ten minutes later you heard your chamber’s door slide open. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. With your back facing your towards him, you were relieved he couldn’t see your tear-strained face. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Why are you so late,” you asked, using all your strength to conceal the shakiness in your voice. You were silently hoping that he would tell you the truth, because if is honest, there is at least a small chance of you two working through this. “I was helping the servants prepare the guest chamber for the princess,” and that’s when you felt your heart shatter. “They were having trouble setting up the bed.”

Liar, your mind screamed. “Are you going to sleep here tonight?” You asked, despite already knowing what his answer is going to be. You just wanted to hear what kind of excuse he was going use. “I-I shouldn’t,” you could hear the stutter in his voice, “there’s a lot more wandering eyes now that the princess is here...”

“Okay.” Your answer shocked Jimin. He was expecting you to beg him to stay or at least ask more questions. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to just accept it. “Baby, is everything okay?” He doesn’t notice the single tear falling from you at the mention of the nickname. He doesn’t even notice your body trembling as he approaches the side of the bed. “Yes, just tired,” you quickly said, not wanting him to be anywhere near you. “You should head to bed, it’s late and I’m sure you have some important royal duties to attend to early tomorrow morning.”

Jimin stayed frozen by your side, staring down at your lying figure with complete confusion before mumbling out a soft “goodnight” and finally leaving your room. And the moment you heard your chamber doors close, that’s when you let the silent sobs escape.

You were fool to believe him—to believe that everything would be alright.

As more and more days passed, the more it seemed Jimin was drifting away from you slowly. You thought that what happened that night was just a one time thing, that you would later have him in your bed once again, laying beside you.

But he never returned. No, instead you would always find him with the princess, not even bothering to share a glance in your direction whenever you happened to stumble upon them two. He didn’t bother to acknowledge you, treating you as if you never even existed. And it wasn’t just the sight of the two of them together and him ignoring you that hurt you, but also that he never officially ended things with you—he just slowly slipped away from you, from your life. He acted like there wasn’t anything between you two—ever, and that hurt you more than anything. Jimin was treating you as if you were nothing but a mere servant to him, and that’s it.

Throughout the past few days, whenever you would take a peaceful walk around the palace you always ended up finding them together, arms linked with one another and sharing smiles and laughs and occasional kisses that only forced the knife that was already in your heart deeper inside your chest. Whenever you saw them together, you began to notice a certain glint in his eyes—love, which made you realized he never really had that with you—at least, not as strong as it was towards her. You never thought you would ever feel this much pain. You wouldn’t even wish this on your worst enemy because it literally felt like you were dying on the inside, your heart breaking and your entire body completely shutting down.

You thought the amount of pain you were going through couldn’t get any worse. But once again, you were wrong. You found yourself assisting the other servants with the preparations—forced by the Queen herself and you couldn’t just say no to her because she was the fucking Queen. So that’s how you ended up in the ballroom instead of your own office, helping the servants set up the chairs, hang up the gorgeous decorations and even build the pristine, white alter. You lost count of how many times you got scolded by the decorators, due to yourself being lost in your thoughts, picturing this as your wedding—that you were the one that was marrying Jimin, not her.

But every time you’re brought back to reality—you’re reminded that this isn’t for you. That you aren’t the one the marrying Jimin, or the one he is going to spend the rest of his life with. You’re just a nobody to him, that’s it. It tore you apart that the many years of childhood memories with him, and two amazing years of love shared together was completely destroyed in the span of a few days. You never thought that Jimin would treat you this way. The same man who took your first your kiss, your innocence. The same man who would hold you in his arms as you both laid in bed together, placing small, tender kisses along your neck and whisper sweet words into your ear. You just wanted the man that stole your heart back again.

Today was the wedding, and you were doing everything in your power to distract yourself and hide away from the heartbreaking event.

While the ceremony was happening on one side of the palace, you were on currently the other side in your office, sitting at your desk and surrounded by dozens of medical books, reading them and hoping that it would help distract you from your thoughts—which it did, slightly. You love reading, and it could be any book, but medical ones have always interested you the most. Jimin knew that. Whenever he would travel to neighboring kingdoms for political reasons, he’d always bring back medical books for you that he bought from other physicians or merchants.

And there you go again, thinking of him when you’re trying to do the complete opposite of that. Why couldn’t you be like Jimin? Why were you so hung up on him while he easily threw you aside as if you were some piece of garbage to him? Did the love you two have for each other—or the two years you spent with one another mean absolutely nothing to him? Did he want to break your heart, because if so then he succeeded—

“Excuse me, sir,” you suddenly heard someone say, tearing you out of your thoughts and turning towards the doorway where you found yourself making eye contact with a fairly older, handsome man. The first thing you noticed when meeting his gaze was the slight pained expression he had on his face. That’s when you also then noticed the small droplets of blood coming from his right hand. “Could you possibly patch me up, please? There was a tiny incident back in the ballroom.”

You instantly stood up from your seat and approached the injured man, nodding your head. “Oh yes, of course.” You carefully took the injured man’s hand and guided him to one of your patient chairs. “Can you please take a seat while I gather everything I need?” The man listened to your request without any complaint, his gaze never leaving your body as he watched you grab alcohol and bandages before heading back towards him. “So, do you want to tell me how this happened?”

“Well,” the man spoke up softly, watching you with great intent as you applied some the alcohol onto his wound, wincing instantly. “I cut myself with my glass.” You glanced up at the man as you started to wrap the bandage around his palm, wondering if he was going to continue his story but when you saw the way he was purposely trying to avoid your gaze you knew that he wasn’t. The nibble on his bottom lip and hints of blush on his cheeks gave away that he was embarrassed.

“Don’t worry though,” you spoke, attempting to divert the attention away from him and hopefully make slightly less uncomfortable. “Your wound isn’t that serious, only a minor cut so there is no need for stitches.”

“You’re pretty good at that,” the man suddenly complimented, eyes trained on your hands as you patched up his injury, causing you to chuckle. “It’s only a simple bandaging, nothing really that extravagant.” The sound of your soft laughter brought a smile on the man’s face, heat spreading across his cheeks. “I’ve got to say though, I heard the stories about the Park Kingdom’s famous young physician—but nobody seemed to mention how beautiful he is. My kingdom could definitely use someone like you.”

The man’s words left you a speechless—and in a good way this time. After wrapping the white bandage around his injured hand, you were about ask him where he was from. But when lifting your head up from his hand, your eyes then suddenly landed on the insignia that was stitched on his shoulder. “You’re from the Kim Kingdom?”

“Good eye,” the man commented, holding his other hand out. “Kim Seokjin, nice to meet you.” Your eyes instantly widened at the name, hands immediately folding themselves in front of you and bending your entire upper body forward, bowing to the royal man. You’ve heard the stories about Kim Seokjin, how he’s one of the youngest and most respected royal in the country, and how he’s considered to be one of most handsome men to ever exist based on the scholars and matchmakers. But you never seen him physically so you never really knew what he looked like it.

“F-Forgive me, your Highness,” you quickly went to bow but was stopped by his hand on your arm, causing you to pause and glance up at him. “There’s no need to be formal with me, physician. You saved my life, so you deserve my complete respect.” You could hear slightly teasing tone in his voice but he kept his word and bowed to you, bringing a smile and hints of blush on your face. “What is your name, if you don’t mind me asking. I’d like to know who my savior is exactly.”

“____ ____, your Highness” you answered him, bowing your head and feeling his eyes burning into you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ____, and I’m serious about the position in my Kingdom—palace specifically. My previous physician has passed and my people and I could use someone with your type of skills.”

“I’m sorry, your Highness, but my place is here.” You don’t know why but you could feel your heart ache when seeing the small frown forming on Seokjin’s here. “The Park Family raised me ever since I was a child and they watched over me after my mother passed away. It would be wrong for me to leave them.”

“Very well,” Seokjin nods understandingly, and you watch as he then reaches inside his robe and pulls out a small crest of the Kim Family. “If you do happen to change your mind, come to my palace and show the guards this. That tells them that I invited you and they’ll take you to me. You’ll be treated way better over there.”

That last sentence made you freeze. “What do you mean by that, your Highness? I-I’m treated quiet fair over here.” You felt your body suddenly straighten out when Seokjin rose from his chair and stood right in front of you, towering over you due to the height difference the both of you shared. “You don’t have to lie to me, ____. The signs are all there, anyone with eyes can see that you are being treated poorly here.”

You remained silent, allowing him to continue. “When was the last time this placed was cleaned,” he asks, swiping his finger across your desk and collecting some dust. The cleaning servants stopped coming the moment A-Yeong showed up and stole Jimin’s complete attention. “I noticed that your office is located on the other side of the palace—completely isolated and away from everyone else. Shouldn’t you—the only doctor in the palace be near everyone else? And why is that you are the only one with medical experience here? Shouldn’t you have at least two assistant nurses aiding you? Every physician must have.”

As more and more questions continued pouring out of his mouth, the more you began to wonder as well. Everything he was questioning about and saying was true. Like, why exactly are you far away from everyone else and why is it that you are the only one here? Before you and Jimin got together, your chambers were in the same section of the palace with the royal family, but once you started having a romantic relationship with him you were suddenly moved to the other side of the home. Jimin made it sound like you were getting an upgrade, having an entire part of the palace to yourself, but now it sounded like he just didn’t want you to be around anyone else—almost like he was ashamed of you. Maybe that’s also why there hasn’t been anybody else hired to aide you with your work, because he doesn’t want the risk of anyone finding out about you two.

“And I don’t even want to ask where you sleep because I think I already know,” Seokjin continues with a sympathetic frown on his face. “You sleep in this section of the palace alone, don’t you?” And when you didn’t say anything back, Seokjin then patted your shoulder comfortingly and said, “just think about it, alright? I promise you won’t regret coming over to work for me instead.”

When you only nodded, Seokjin left you with a gentle brush of his hand against your arm, leaving you alone once again in your office—at least you thought you were alone. But little did you know there was a certain blonde prince standing right outside the door, listening to every word that was shared between you and other royal.

As more and more hours passed, the more you got lost in your thoughts, Seokjin’s words flooding your mind constantly and echoing inside. You were so consumed by them that you didn’t realize the once vibrant sun and bright sky was replaced with complete darkness and the moon shining up high, surrounded by millions of twinkling stars. You definitely didn’t notice the blonde-hair royal standing in the center of your doorway, arms crossed over his chest and eyes burning into you. “Where were you today?”

You froze at the sound of his voice, your gaze refusing to meet his as you still kept your eyes on your medical books scattered on your desk. “There was some things I had to work on here,” you answered him without lifting your head up. “And you can’t really blame me for not wanting to be there, Jimin—I mean, your Highness.”

When finally raising your head to meet his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your breath get hitched in the back of your throat at the sight of him. Jimin was dressed in his sleepwear, his cotton shirt parted down the middle, exposing his toned chest and making you swallow the small lump in your throat. And after briefly admiring his torso, that’s when you noticed the facial expression that was as plastered on his face. He wasn’t happy. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your wife?”

Jimin could clearly hear the harshness in your tone, feeling guilty at the sight of you avoiding his eyes but he couldn’t blame you. He knew how he has been treating you lately for these past few days and it was completely reasonable for you to be furious at him. “I’m sorry, honey,” he slowly started approaching you, noticing the way your body tensed at the pet name. “I had to keep up appearances, and with so many new faces around I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about us.”

With your back facing towards him, you could slowly feel your heart start to quicken when feeling his arms suddenly slipping around your waist and pressing soft, delicately kisses along the back of your neck. “I love you and only you, baby. You’re the one I want but you know I have no power over this.” Every word that he was saying made your heart beat faster and Jimin knew that because he could slowly feel you start to relax against him, bringing a small smirk on his face. He knew exactly what to say to you to make you fall back to him. “I promise you—give me more time and we will be together, okay? Do you trust me?”

When noticing the clear hesitation in your eyes, Jimin leaned down and pressed his lips softly against yours. He thought you have finally given up on him but he then suddenly started to feel you kiss back after a few seconds, causing him to smile against your lips. Jimin knew this was wrong, giving you hope that the future you wanted with him can still happen when he knew that it was not possible now that he was married—not like it could ever happen anyway. It was not just impossible for a royal and commoner to be in a relationship, but also the family of the royal would be forever shunned and the commoner they chose to be with would be executed—and yet, Jimin still chose to pursue you.

At first Jimin thought you were the love of his life, but after meeting A-Yeong, he realized that he never actually loved you. In just the one week he has known the princess, she made him feel things he has never felt with you. You never once made his heart stop at the sight of you, or took his breath away. Your presence never brought a real, genuine smile on his face, instead a more forced one. Jimin was confused why he was suddenly feeling this way, but he then started to think back to where you two first started. He was stressed out over his studies and you were the first person he ran into that day, and next thing he knew he was back in his chambers with you underneath him, crying out his name as he thrusted into you mercilessly. That’s when a new routine of him coming to you whenever he needed to release some stress started.

That’s what you were always to him—a stress reliever, and it took meeting A-Yeong and getting to know her for him to finally realize that. But for some reason when the thought of you leaving him ran through his kind, it made feel sort of uneasy. He wasn’t in love you, he knew that. But you leaving him meant he wouldn’t have anyone to release his stress onto, and he couldn’t just sleep with any servant because they were all loyal to his parents while you were more independent—which was beneficial for his case. He didn’t want to lose you—correction, he didn’t want to lose the sex. Yes, he loved A-Yeong but she was purely vanilla and he found that bland. But you, you were the most perfect partner that allows him to try and do anything he wanted and he couldn’t lose that. So Jimin did the one thing he knew that would convince you to stay with him. He fucked you—or in your words, “made love.”

With his lips still moving with yours, Jimin pulled away and turned you around so that his chest was now pressed up against your back. “I love you,” he whispered into your neck as he placed kisses down along your skin as he slowly stripped you out of your robes until you were completely bare and ready for him.

Jimin spent the entire night with you, using everything in his power to convince you to stay. He would whisper sweet words into your ear while thrusting into you at a rough pace, each thrust sending your body forward and a low, whimpering moan to come out of you. In between thrusts, Jimin would press a soft, tender kiss underneath your earlobe and whisper “I love you.” He would roll his eyes when he would only get a moan in reply—that not being what he exactly wanted to hear. But after two amazing rounds and you both later laying in your bed and in his arms, when he finally heard you say those three words he knew that he got what he wanted.

You were his, and only his.

Once again, you were a weak fool to believe him. You weren’t surprise to find your bed empty the next morning.

But you being you, you believed he left early in the morning so that nobody would find out that he stayed there with you when in reality, Jimin actually left the moment you fell asleep so that he could go back to his wife make real love with her, and soon after fall asleep with her in his arms.

The next day when you found Jimin once again ignoring you completely, thinking it was just him acting so that nobody grew suspicious of you two. But as days went by, and those days soon turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into two months since you even spoken to Jimin, you came to realize that he was ignoring you as if that night you two shared didn’t even happen.

But you being the oblivious person that you were, you kept hope. You’d spend nights staring at your door, hoping that one night he would come into your room to lay with you, to hold you in his arms again. But it never happened.

It wasn’t until three months later, when the princess came to see you that you reached your last straw. She claimed to visit because she wasn’t feeling well, and after checking her out, finding out what her symptoms were you came to find out that she was pregnant—exactly three months pregnant. Which meant Jimin slept with her the same night he slept with you. That is when you finally accepted the fact he wasn’t yours anymore and that the future you pictured having with him is never going to happen.

That’s when you had the thought of leaving. There is no way you were going to stay here and suffer for the rest of your life. So, later that day you found yourself packing your things such as clothes and handwritten medical records into a small bag, comfortable for travel. It’s not like you wanted to leave in the first place—you love the people that live and work here, they were like a family to you. You just don’t know if you even have the strength to endure this pain any longer.

As you were shoving the last piece of clothing into your bag, a soft, delicate voice caused you to freeze. “Where are you going?” Turning your head towards your chamber door where the voice was coming from, your eyes landed on the former Queen—Jimin’s grandmother standing there with a concern look on her face. You couldn’t help but feel your heart ache at the sight of the small pain in her eyes. Seeing your nearly empty room and the packed bag laid out on your bed, she didn’t need an answer because she already knew.

You walked towards her and took her hands into yours, offering a warm, heartfelt smile. “I cannot stay here anymore, your Highness—I-I can’t stay and watch him with her...” You could see tears forming in her eyes as you spoke, flashing you an understanding frown and nod. She placed her other hand on top of yours and leaned over to give you small peck on the cheek. “Promise me that’ll you take care of yourself while you are out there?” You gave her a small nod which made her frown lift up slightly. “And promise me that once things get better you’ll come back and visit me...”

“Of course,” you replied without any hesitation, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a hug. “And thank you for everything you’ve done for me—for my mother. If it weren’t for you I would’ve died alongside her that day...” Jimin’s grandmother instantly shook her head and ran her hand comfortingly down your arm. “Don’t say that sweetie, I promised your mother that I would watch after you—” she suddenly then paused, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to keep that...”

“Don’t blame yourself for what happened,” you quickly reassured her, leaning forward to press a kiss on her cheek. “It’s not your fault for how the King and Queen has treated me lately ever since my mother passed. And as for J-Jimin—” you stuttered, tears stinging in your eyes once again. “—never mind. I should go, the guards shifts are changing right now and this is my only chance to slip out without being detected.”

With one last kiss on her cheek and hug goodbye, you left your room with your bag in a hand.

You thought leaving the Park residence would be something hard for you to do and accept. But the moment you took one last glance at the beautiful palace and took your first step outside, you felt as if a huge weight was then suddenly lifted from your shoulders.

This is your life now—a new beginning.

“Your Highness,” Kim Seokjin raises his head at the sound of his name being called, his eyes landing on his advisor entering his office and bowing his head in front of him. “There’s somebody here to see you.”

Seokjin was about to ask him who it was, but he was left speechless when you suddenly appeared behind his advisor. Even with your clothes slightly torn, probably from your journey here and the faint signs of dirt on your face, you still looked beautiful as ever to him.

You were truly breathtaking in his eyes.

“Physician ____,” Seokjin stood up from his seat and approached you with a smile grin on his face. “What are you doing here?” He asks, and your next words to him made the grin on his face grow ten times more wider.

“Is that physician position still open...?”

Continuing onto “Love Again”

TAGLIST:

@jolesofthehowls, @chifsami, @theclawofsa, @imluckybitches, @jimidol, @pjmislovely, @daydreambrliever, @xavi-in-kpopland, @imaniceperson14, @peachmelodii, @blazedprince

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

that’s not a shirt

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1584

summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.

a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)

three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.

when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.

upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.

dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.

in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.

checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.

satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.

“mroww!”

last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.

“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.

marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.

for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.

dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.

the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!

this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.

when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.

did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?

you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.

she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.

“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.

he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”

“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”

he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”

“mroww!”

“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”

marcus pike taglist: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @torradoza @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @max--phillips @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @andysficrecs @pedropasscals @qhbr2013 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @greeneyedblondie44 @princess76179 @kaermorons @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike #the mentalist #writer wednesday #autumnleaves1991 blog #i love this so much #i’m proud of this one #marcus pike is therapeutic #my government assigned soft fbi agent

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drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd.

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it

word count: 4k

music recs:

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson.

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope.

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before.

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty.

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?”

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence.

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt.

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?”

“Draco!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place.

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table.

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set.

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly.

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself.

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

His hand, warm and soft, reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone.

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted.

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in.

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest.

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her.

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears.

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat.

“As friends,” she said.

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.”

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts.

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.”

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him.

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.”

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

“Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again.

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin.

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.”

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.”

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her.

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job.

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said.

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco #draco malfoy #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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caranfindel · 3 years

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Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

#spn #15.20 #my fic #episode coda #sam winchester

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itsmeevie01 · 3 years

Text

A Moment in Time- Ch 3

Whew! almost 3000 words later, here we are!

After extracting herself from her grandmother’s hug, she giggled and turned to make sure her parents were ok with her leaving the counter. After getting the approving nod from her mother who moved to fill her spot, Marinette skipped around to guide her Nona upstairs. The elderly woman laughed before tugging on her granddaughter’s arm to stop the over excited teen. “before we go and talk, my Fairy, I want you to meet someone. He was just going to put the up-” the bell rang again as Gina spoke, and when the duo looked over, Marinette froze. The smile that had been floating on her face sliding off in shock as a face came into view she hadn’t seen in 11 years.

“Jason?”

The room seemed to freeze at Marinette’s question, the crack in her voice pulling her parent’s attention. The man entering the building zeroed in on her, his eyes widening as he looked to where his name had been called. “Marinette.” He breathed her name before striding towards the small girl and pulling her into a tight hug. The teen clung to him in return, shaking as she was enveloped in her older brother’s arms for the first time in years.

“Are- Are you. This isn’t.”

“No, Mari, this isn’t a dream. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” A sob crawled its way up the teen’s throat as she buried her face in her brother’s shirt. From somewhere outside of their little world, the girl could her someone calling her name. Someone was trying to get her attention. Jason poked her in the side, obviously concerned. “do you want to answer them or should I?” when she looked up at him confused, her older brother sighed before smiling down at her. “I’ll take care of it.”

When Marinette finally started to tune back into the world around her, they were upstairs. When she looked around, she realized that it wasn’t late afternoon anymore, but it was mid-evening. The lights outside the window glowed in the darkness, and a light rain falling. Shaking her head, Marinette forced herself to focus on what was going on in the small sitting room of the apartment. Jason was still next to her, and Gina was perched on the side of the chair opposite them. Her parents were sitting on the couch, looking at her in concern. “I…. what did I miss?” Her father’s laugh made the embarrassed teen look up.

“Oh, little flower.” The fondness in his voice led to Marinette looking up. He made a face at hat that she returned, before the two started to laugh. Her mother elbowed him, before smiling at her.

“Welcome back, dear. Don’t worry, there weren’t too many stories making their rounds.” The girl flushed before turning back to her brother.

“what did you- “

“Don’t worry, Mari. I didn’t tell them any of the good stories. I just filled them in. It’s not every day that a strange guy comes in and starts hugging their kid.” She scowled at him before nodding.

“ok.”

“Marinette, why didn’t you ever tell us about Jason? If we had known…” The siblings cringed.

“I… um.”

“She got caught. At the time Marinette didn’t know where I was because I was trying to get her out without the police or social workers figuring it out.” Tom froze, confusion obvious on his face.

“what do you mean, Caught?” Jason glanced at his sister, surprised.

“you didn’t tell them?” the teen shrugged.

“I didn’t think that it was important once I got here. Jason, you know what it was like. Why would I want to relive it once I was away? It…it was like a fairy tale. Well,” here the girl flushed. “Once I stopped trying to run away and board a plane. Something about that made them kinda frustrated.” Her older brother threw his head back and laughed.

“only you Mari. Only you would try to sneak on a transatlantic flight.” He studied her. “how far did you get?” the girl smiled devilishly. “they were taxiing for takeoff before they realized that there was something wrong.” He snorted before holding his hand out for a high-five.

“nice.” The Dupain-Cheng couple gaped at the duo in shock while Gina laughed.

“you- you. Why is that. She could have been hurt!” Jason raised an eyebrow at that.

“Mr. Dupain, have you ever seen Mari in action? If she was going to get hurt, she would have gotten off or taken care of the threat.”

“I-she CAN?” the girl laughed.

“Papa, you have to remember how tame Paris is compared to Gotham. I don’t have the need for many of the skills I picked up while I was a kid. Plus,” here the girl sent her brother a side eye glare. “I felt safe here. And I kept an eye on Jason. I have an ongoing hack of the GCPD.” Jason froze before whipping around to gape at her.

“YOU WHAT.” The look of shock on her face made the girl giggle.

“I figured that if you were getting into trouble I would be able to see what was going on better that way. Of course, there is that other hacker…they keep pushing me out. But its fine. Whoever Oracle is, they are always a step behind.” Jason gapped at her.

“Mari. You’re out hacking Oracle? She-Uh THEY are legendary! It’s said that she helps the Bats!” The teen sniggered at his response.

“then they need a new hacker. I’ve been out hacking them since I was 8. And if you ever meet them, you are more than welcome to tell them that. It’s a shame, really.” Jason stared at her, shocked.

“oh Mari. PLEASE don’t pick a fight with the Bats again. Or, you know, their INTERNATIONALLY FAMOUS hacker.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“wanna bet? I can win a war with them by the end of the week. And the Bats are just wimps. We’ve been over this.” Gina Dupain chose this moment to interrupt her granddaughter.

“Marinetta, what does Jason mean start a fight with Batman again?” The teen started ton invent new shades of red.

“I…may have started loudly calling Robin names and when he came to stop me I beat him in a fight. With Jason’s help, of course.” The older woman studied Jason with a knowing look that confused Marinette before she shelved the conversation for another time.

Through the din of the conversation that the five had fallen into as Jason and Marinette caught up and Gina explained how she knew Jason, cut the dinner timer. Sabine smiled and she rose to gather the plates needed for the group. As she did so, she motioned Marinette to join her. Once the two were standing over the oven as Sabine pulled out the chicken and Marinette served the rice and green beans to go with, the mother paused and looked at her daughter in worry. “Marinette, why didn’t you tell us about your brother? We could have tried to bring him over-” she was cut off by the noirette shaking her head.

“no, mama. Jason was the one to teach me to avoid CPS and the GCPD. Everything I knew? He knew and was able to do better. I was caught because I was trying to help another kid who didn’t know what they were doing and took me down with them. The only reason he got caught at all is probably because he did something incredibly stupid and daring.” The Chinese woman nodded before pulling her daughter into a hug.

“well I’m glad that we got you, even if its because of another person’s mistakes. You are the greatest blessing in your father’s and my life.” The girl ducked her head as she hugged her mother in return.

“I love you too, mama.”

At dinner, Gina regaled them with stories of her adventures with Jason. When Tom expressed his surprise at some of the things Jason had tagged along on the Gotamite laughed.

“you do know the only reason Bruce got me was because I was caught stealing the tires off the Batmobile, right?” Marinette choked, snapping to lock eyes with her mother.

“I told you he did something stupid.” The woman laughed in agreement, while Tom studied the young man in front of him.

“who did you say adopted you? A Bruce?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s resident billionaire, and the collector of lost children.” Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“This wouldn’t be the same Bruce Wayne that the entirety of the media has decided I’m either dating the son of or am the newest child of, would it?” Jason laughed.

“yup defiantly the same Bruce. To be fair, he’s been on a quiet kick with the adopting thing. We think he’s planning something. And, in my defense, the only reason I knew what was going on was Tim can into my apartment simmering in anger that the press was stalking him again.” He paused, “oh and I went to pick up one of the tabloids so that I could immortalize his shame and was met with your face.” Here he turned to Marinette. “if they hadn’t run that story, I may never have seen you again.” The watery smile that he was met with made him smile.

“let go back to the Batmobile for a moment. What were you going to do, just leave a note after taking the tires? Write a quick thanks and leave?” Sabine’s humor quickly lightened the atmosphere as everyone laughed.

“no, actually. I was going to leave a red chrysanthemum.” Jason’s response made Marinette break into giggles.

“you were going to leave my sign? Jason!” the rest of the table looked around, clearly lost. Taking pity on them, Marinette went on to explain. “the red chrysanthemum is my favorite flower. Its also one that we were able to get ahold of easily in Gotham. Jason always called me his Chrysanthemum because it means hope. He called my Chrys when we were with other kids so that I was harder to track. He literally called me his hope for years. Its also why,” here she looked her grandmother dead in the eye, “they are the symbol for my brand.” The older woman tossed her head back in a laugh.

“only you, Marinetta. Only you.

After dinner and Gina and Jason had reluctantly left for the night, the Dupain-Cheng family sat and talked together a while more before separating to move towards bed. Afterall, they did have a bakery to open in the morning. When Marinette was sure that her parents were asleep, she opened her chaise. There, buried under piles of blankets and spare fabric and next to one of her specialized embroidery machines that had been packed away to save space, was a black rectangular box with a red chrysanthemum carved into it. Breathing a sigh of relief, the teen pulled out the box and settled her hand on top of it, letting her magic seep into the wood. A moment later, the box was expanding, opening, and giving her access to the box of the Miraculous of the Chinese Zodiac. Plagg zipped to join her as she studied the jewels in front of her before settling her hand on the Bee Miraculous that she had been puzzling over for weeks. The Kwamii looked at her before he finally sighed. “kid you know what you need to do. As much as we don’t like it, the girl is a good match for Pollen. Plus, you and the Bug need a rest. Without the Bee you know that the rest of your team won’t fall into place.” She smiled at the Kwamii before looking down again.

“I know Plagg, but…what if she says no? Lady Tyche and I can only do so much, and I don’t want to open our group to someone who is going to pull an Alya. I spent months training her with Tyche before we even let her come to an attack, and she still had the audacity to believe Lila. I don’t want to bring someone else into the fold and have them flake.” The miniature cat god nodded at his chosen as she drifted for a moment, thinking about days gone by. “ok Plagg, Let’s Make Mischief!” as her transformation fell over her, Apate stretched, preparing to wander into the night. Her luminous blue eyes, catlike and glowing in the night, narrowed as she made the jump, her black boots landing on the balcony. The black suit resembled a black track jacket, with the bottom half resembling close cropped cargo pants. Her boots, while silent, had a heel, giving the petit girl a very well needed few inches. Her black hair, while long and free flowing in daily life, was now held back in a French braid. The gauntlets on her forearms glinted silver in the moonlight, and the bracers on her shins reflected the light from the streets below. Apate’s hands flexed, the reinforced gloves flashing as her claws extended. A small smile crawled over the Vigilante’s face as she scanned the ridgeline of the building across from her before she detached her baton and let herself fly away from the small bakery.

When she landed at the Tower, the cat-like Vigilante settled herself on one of the beams looking out over the night. Her eyes focused on a figure in the distance and followed it as it made it’s way closer. When the figure landed next to her, Apate grinned up at Lady Tyche. The Blonde smiled down at her more violent companion. Her braided ponytail shifted in the wind, and the dark mask made the smaller girl roll her eyes. After almost four years, the two were pretty good at reading each other. As Lady Tyche settled next to Apate, the red hero smiled. Her garnet suit shifted in the moonlight. The black reinforced areas along her shins and arms seeming to disappear into the night to the naked eye. The older miraculous wielder had been apprehensive to let Apate redesign her suit from the bight red that had black spots everywhere. Apparently, it was a Tikki staple. When Apate had shown Tyche the simple garnet suit with the black shading on her sides, and the reinforcement on her arms, the hero had changed her tune. That had been three years ago, and since then the girls had grown closer. They had realized somewhere down the line that they must be in the same grade because they had chosen names that mirrored the Greek goddesses they had been learning about. When Apate had found out the box was based off the Chinese zodiac, she had laughed to herself. By then, it had been too late to change her name to honor the origin of the box.

That evening, the two had gotten together to once again debate the idea of adding a certain Bee to their ranks. This had been a topic for almost a year and the duo were apprehensive at the thought of adding an unknown this far into their battle.

“What did Tikki say?” When Apate broke their silence, Tyche sent her a small smile. They both knew that Apate was the more anxious of the duo. There was a reason she worked better in the shadows. The idea of adding the Bee, well it was keeping her up at night.

“She was all for it. After she heard what Wayzz had said, she agreed with him. adding another holder and setting up our team is the right move.” The girls exchanged looks. Apate took a deep breath before nodding.

“Plagg and I have been talking. With our final year in Lycée ending in eight months, he agreed that we need to try ad wrap this up.” Tyche snorted.

“I don’t know about you, but I am ready to leave Paris. If I can leave for University, it would be amazing.” Apate nodded in agreement.

“does that mean we should go visit Chloé?” Tyche hesitated.

“Actually, I was thinking. I know that we have been careful, for years now, but we both know that we’re getting closer to our identities. Would, would it be ok if we-” understanding settled on Apate’s face. She thought for a moment before nodding.

“well, there isn’t a Guardian to tell us no anymore. Plus, it might be good for us.” Both girls laughed as they stood. “how about this. I have to go get the Bee anyways, so come with me, and we can do the reveal nearby. That way we can be sure its in a secluded place.” Tyche nodded as she readied her yoyo.

“which way, Kit-Cat?” Apate laughed and jumped off the tower, letting herself start the trek back to the quaint Bakery that currently was housing miniature gods.

OK! so, Apate is the greek goddess of Decit, Tyche is the greek goddess of luck. i wanted unique names. thats all.

moving on, i’m not sure if anyone had noticed or not, but i think i’m allergic to ahving Adrien as Chat Noir. i’m debating adding him in as another Miraculous but we will see. i can’t really think of one i like for him.

yes! chrystantamums are going to play a big part in this. im goign to lear a little bit of this up too. Marinette was adoopted by the Dupain-Chengs when she was about 5. she is Jason’s half sister. she is incredably bright and i have a thing for crazy smart Mari so she skipped 2 grades and is a year away from university. she does not know Jason died yet. the time where Mari was kinda out of it, i’m useing as a plot device so that i can skip stuff. basically, Jason explains that Mari is is his little half sister and that they were out on the streets all of her early life before CPS picked her up. they share a father, not a mother. Jason is crazy protective of her.

anywhoooooo have a goodone yall, and ill see you soon wiht another chapter, probably.

tag list- @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan

#a moment in time fic #maribat #timari #sibling!jasonette #ml x dc #mlb #miraculous ladybug #My writing #oops again #this was a lot #and a brain dump #i sorry

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stormyoceansmain · 3 years

Note

this is a different anon but buddie as a concept has been making me feel Insane since i started watching the show and i would like to let you know that 1. buck was super enthusiastic to learn that eddie had a son (in literally like... eddie's second appearance on the show) and has been ride or die for that kid since the beginning. his relationship with eddie's son is at least as/even more important than his own relationship with eddie tbh and the three of them as a unit are So good. the found family vibes... immaculate.

and 2. eddie doesn't have a girlfriend when he makes the decision to put buck in his will as legal guardian but he Does have one when he tells him about it. he also has other family members he could have chosen and while he is close with his aunt and grandmother, his relationship with his parents is a little complicated. there are some sisters, too, but we... don't know much about them. he has all of these options but he knows that buck will fight harder for christopher than anyone else and he knows how much they all really need each other. the show constantly frames the three of them as a family and parallels buddie with the other canon romances. even when buck and eddie have other romantic interests, so many of their interactions with them mirror/callback to/remind us of buddie it's insane. they always choose each other. wild

also the wife thing. she did have reasons and it's not okay that she didn't come back but it's another really complicated situation and she really was trying in the end so it's just... really messed up that they killed her imo

i s2g the more i learn about these two dudes the more im like

like i barely know anything about this show so i don't wanna put a foot in my mouth but you are telling me the writers CHOSE to make buck (guess we're at first name basis now god help me) important for both eddie AND christopher, and their relationship is SO MEANINGFUL that eddie signs him down as his kid's legal guardian over anyone else in his life and.. what? im supposed to sit here and think eddie is not at least a little bit in love with him??????? PLEASE. and honestly the 'they are just bros' doesn't cut it anymore at this point like HE. MADE. HIM. HIS. SON'S. LEGAL. GUARDIAN. (no im not getting over it any time soon)

about the wife, yeah i don't wanna condemn her or pass judgement when i don't even know her story, if there's something im getting about this show is that everyone has some issues and things are complicated, and im sure the writers could have handled her better than just kill her off :/

#also can i just say that i absolutely love how passionate you buddie shippers are #i could read what you guys have to say about them for hours #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox

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miceenscene · 3 years

Text

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 6.2k / 28.5k

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Din Is In A Cult, angst with an eventual happy ending i swear

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Eight: The End

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Anella held onto Nia as if in fear that she might slip through her fingers again. Both of them talking through tears over the other.

“I’ve missed you so much! I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you–”

“Niæna! I thought you were–Niæna, cyare’se–”

Loved one.

They stopped talking at the exact same moment to listen, making them both laugh and wipe away tears.

Anella cupped Nia’s cheeks and pressed her forehead to hers, frowning in a joy so bright it had to hurt.

“Me'vaar ti gar, ba’buir?” Nia whispered, sniffling.

How are you, grandmother?

Anella nodded slowly, swallowing hard before speaking in a rough voice. “Ner bu’ad. Yaimpar. Ori’sol gedetyar.”

My granddaughter. Returned. There is much to be grateful for.

Watching their reunion made something deep inside Din ache. He had never felt like more of an outsider.

He stepped back once, twice, hoping to let them share this moment as long as they wanted to without an audience. But–

“Ke’mot!”

Halt!

Even if it hadn’t been the exact order used by his training instructors, the tone Anella used would have stopped a runaway Star Destroyer. Din looked back, shoulders automatically hunching to brace for whatever was coming next. Anella still had an arm around Nia, but was giving him a very familiar looking study.

“Is he with you?” she asked Nia.

She smiled. “Yes, he’s with me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

Anella looked slightly mollified. “Do you have a name to go with all that beskar?”

“He goes by–”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

For half a second, he had the same feeling as when he gave Nia his true name on their first meeting. WHY? But the warm and open look in Nia’s eyes immediately quenched any doubt he might have had.

Anella looked between the two of them then snorted. “Come, let us leave this drafty high rise and you can explain. You too, Din-Din Djarin.”

Huh. It’d been a long time since he’d had relatives.

Anella took them to her small apartment many thousand levels down from the twin-spired penthouse. It was cramped, and there was some sort of betting ring happening on the street corner, but they could still see the sky, so better than most on Coruscant.

Inside was about as luxurious as being aboard The Razor Crest, which made Din feel a lot more at ease, truth be told. Anella managed to find an extra crate for Din to sit on as she only owned two chairs, but it didn’t feel too tight at the table.

Anella was a small woman, slight and barely reaching his chest. But she still had a commanding Presence that made him continually straighten his posture every time she re-entered the room. The long burn scar through her whitened eye probably helped, but even then…

Nia hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Ba’buir, sit. We’re fine.”

Anella grunted disbelieving and tossed two ration packs their way. “If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten the good ones. But I at least have this.” She placed down three metal cups on the table and brandished a bottle half-filled with golden liquor.

She filled the cups with the very strong smelling booze and then lifted hers. “K'oyacyi.”

Cheers. Literally, ‘stay alive’.

“K’oyacyi,” Nia repeated before sipping. Din lifted his glass, but did not drink.

Anella gave him an odd look. “I can assure you, this place is safer than it looks.”

“Din doesn’t remove his helmet in front of others,” Nia explained before he had to.

A knowing look crossed through Anella’s eyes that turned to a pointed glare towards Nia, who avoided it by paying very careful attention to opening her ration bar.

“I see. Well, it will keep just fine,” Anella said before taking Nia’s hand in hers and giving her a soft, concerned look. “Now tell me, my Comet-fire, what has happened since I saw you last?”

Nia let out a long breath. “A lot, but… I’m not even sure when that was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a control chip put in my head,” Nia said, making Anella’s face harden and her grip clench. “Din made sure it was removed, but it took… everything. I wasn’t even sure of my own name when I woke up.”

Anella’s face was disturbed, but she nodded and sat back. “Tell me what you know then. And I will clarify.”

“I remember Mandalore. My parents and you, our home. I remember you raising me, training me–training us. We found the school. Ba’buir, it was attacked–”

Anella held up a hand “I know this. Continue.”

Nia kept going. “I remembered the Vod’oya after we found the headquarters. Going through the mission log brought back a lot of good memories.” She smiled for a moment, but then it disappeared. “But there’s gaps. In the records themselves. We have a contact seeing if it can be recovered, but haven’t heard anything yet.”

So far none of this seemed to surprise Anella. “And then?”

Nia’s face grew very carefully blank. “I know I killed Phasia,” she said in a small voice. On instinct, Din reached out and took Nia’s other hand. He could feel Anella’s gaze rest on him for a moment. “I don’t… know why, but I remember doing it. Ro saw me shoot her, she told me.”

“You found Ro?” Anella asked, sounding actually surprised now.

“Yes, she was… angry. I would be too.”

“What brought you here then?”

Din spoke up, making them both look his way. “I had a bounty, some years ago, for Phasia. I delivered her to that building. Nia remembered being chipped there when we arrived.”

“I remember a man. Human. He wanted to know where the school was…” Nia’s face threatened to crumble. “And I told him. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Because you were chipped,” Anella reminded her, her voice fierce with determination. “Do not take guilt that is not yours, Niæna.”

She didn’t look like she quite agreed with her, but she let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for eight months, and there’s still so much we don’t know. Please, anything will help.”

Anella nodded and considered for a moment before speaking. “I hope you have re-discovered it, but your gut instinct is… uncanny. As a child, it was unsettling.” A wry smile twisted her mouth for a moment. “But as you grew older, and especially with the path you and the others chose, it gave me some measure of peace. So when you came to me a year ago and told me that you felt one of the Vod’oya had betrayed the group, I trusted you. But I told you that you would need hard proof to convince the rest. And you had it. The collection of missions the Vod’oya had completed all under false pretenses, all proposed by Phasia. You showed it to me not long before… before it all ended.

She finished her drink and set the cup down. “The owner of that building is a man named Terreck Basslan. He is rich, which makes him powerful. Even with your proof, we weren’t sure how he’d gotten his hooks into Phasia–” She looked pointedly at Din. “But it was clear that she was the turncoat. Through her, Basslan was using the Vod’oya as his own personal army. The seven of you could take out his enemies, remove his competitors, or just cut down anyone in his way. I am sure he lined Phasia’s pockets with more credits than she knew what to do with for her assistance.

“When you told me, I thought it best to disband, but… you wanted to know why she had betrayed the sisterhood. I told you to be careful. She had kept up the ruse for years; she was probably deeper in than even we knew.” Her face grew even more somber. “And then I was woken up very late by Kolo, who told me that Phasia was dead. And you were missing.

“I went after you immediately. You made it to the spaceport before I could get to you. I followed you, tracked you to that building.” She shook her head, a grim light in her eyes. “At the time, I hoped you were dead. That would have been better than most of the fates that waited there.”

“I got lucky,” Nia said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” Anella replied, looking at Din. “By the time I returned to the school, the Empire had already come through. Basslan must have told them where we were; Mandalorians are not technically wanted, but far from welcome. They killed some, took most. Where and for what purpose, I do not know. I buried the dead and burned the stormtroopers in the woods. Set out to find my students.”

“You think Basslan knows where they are?” Din asked.

“I think Coruscant is a good place to hide when you still need contacts. I have a scanner nearby; it logs every ship that comes and goes from Basslan’s.” She smiled slightly. “My curiosity was sparked when the same pre-Imperial ship that landed at my school three weeks ago showed up here. Though the Mandalorian was more a surprise than your survival, Comet-fire. Where did you find him?”

Nia laughed slightly. “He found me. On Tatooine. When I was chipped, everything felt foggy. Except for this… compulsion. Kick the guard off the barge. I did, and then he showed up out of nowhere.”

“And what brought you to Tatooine, Din?”

“I took a quarry and had my own… instinct. Go to the Dune Sea, and follow the barge.”

Nia smiled at him. “Though the next thing I remember is waking up to a stormtrooper swinging a staff at me.”

“You wouldn’t stay on the ship,” he replied, making her laugh.

Anella was looking sharply between the two of them. “I see.”

“We’re Matched,” Nia added, resting a hand on his arm.

“Good. Glad you have figured that out yourselves.” She refilled the two empty glasses and sat back in her chair. “Are you bonded yet?”

Nia’s confused frown reflected the one on his face. “No…?”

“It will come in time. What clan are you from, Din?”

“I don’t have one. I was a foundling, raised in the fighting corps.”

“Outside of Keldabe, right?” Anella asked, though it seemed she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Nia asked, pulling the conversation off track. She nodded to the corner where a few bags were packed.

“I was, yes. I have received a tip on where my students may have been taken. Was going to investigate when you two arrived.”

“I want to come with you,” Nia said.

Anella held up a hand. “No. I do not know yet if it is true. If it is, I will leave word at the school. But you need your evidence back. Prove yourself to Ro and find the others together.”

Nia nodded, though it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her grandmother again.

They stayed up talking, reminiscing till late in the night. Not stopping till Nia could barely keep her eyes open. Anella wouldn’t hear of them returning to the ship, making a few spare beds out of the blankets and furniture she was leaving behind.

Nia curled up on the couch, immediately dropping into sleep before she’d even managed to pull a blanket over herself. Din watched Anella drape a quilt over her and smooth her hair, something deep inside him aching again.

Anella caught him staring from the table, jerking his head back to look down at his still full cup. However, instead of retiring herself, she sat down across from him and refilled her glass.

There was a quiet minute as she sipped and studied him carefully. She and Nia really were related.

“Tell me, Din,” she said in a low voice. “What are your intentions towards my granddaughter?”

He didn’t know how, but he suddenly felt that every answer that came to mind was wrong.

“As long as Nia wants me by her side, that is where I’ll be,” he said finally. True in spirit, but not his full hopes.

She huffed in amusement. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.”

Her choice of words gave him pause.

“Because it seems to me like you have already chosen her,” she continued.

Kriff, he’d hoped he was more subtle than this.

“Not formally…” he admitted. “But… I am… settled.” He looked to where he could see the top of Nia’s head. “I do not know if she agrees with me.”

“What of your tribe? Do they agree with you?”

Din looked back at her, frowning. “Nia is my Match, what is there to argue with?”

Anella chuckled into her teacup. “Since when has that stopped Mandalorians?”

Under his helmet, he frowned. The idea had not even crossed his mind…

“You know, Nia’s mother was of your tribe. The Faithful Ones up the mountain,” she added.

“Really?”

She nodded once, looking at him closely. “When she and my son chose each other… her tribe cast her out for choosing someone who was not faithful.” A black pit opened in his stomach. “It was difficult for her, and admittedly, I had my doubts at first about the wisdom of my son’s choice.” A wistful smile filled her eyes. “But before long, she made me as proud as if I had birthed her myself. It was through her foresight and her sacrifice that Nia and I survived and escaped when the Empire invaded our village.”

“Nia never told me.”

“Nia does not know. Her mother wanted to leave that part of her past behind her. And she did…” She drained her cup and stood. “I may be biased, but I think she was happier for it.” She patted his shoulder as she passed by. “Good night, Din Djarin.”

Din finished his cup and settled for the night, leaning against the couch with a long sigh. Nia, still asleep, turned and threw her arm across his chest. He slipped his glove off and held her hand, the usual something flickering beneath the surface as he drifted off.

The next morning, Anella saw them back to The Razor Crest, not before giving them a small case of ration bars and the quilt Nia had slept under. She probably would have foisted more, if Nia hadn’t gently yet firmly assured her they weren’t in danger of starving.

“One last thing,” Anella said, making Nia suck in a breath and Din bite back a chuckle. She reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped, rather flat package, handing it to Nia. “You should have this. It is time.”

Nia unwrapped it and both their mouths dropped open. It was a beskar cuirass, battle-worn and painted grey and white.

Nia looked up at her. “I cannot accept this–”

“I cannot wear it anymore. It is right that you should have it, cyare’se.” Anella ran a hand over her beskar, thumb rubbing at one of the scuffs. “It will need to be fitted to you. And deserves new paint. Perhaps a new color if you think it fitting.”

The color of a Mandalorian’s armor was symbolic. Grey meant mourning a loved one, while white meant a new start.

His own red set was in honor of his parents. Perhaps it was time for a new color on his own as well.

“I will take good care of it,” Nia promised solemnly, her hand pressed over the iron heart in the center.

Anella nodded. “I know this.” She rested a hand on her shoulder and waved Din in to rest the other on his, looking between the two of them. “Look after one other well. Mandalorians need each other, now more than ever.”

They looked at each other, a warm smile passing between them. “We will,” Nia promised, not looking away for a moment.

Anella patted Din’s arm and kissed Nia’s forehead one last time before letting them board the ship.

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Anella called, waving from the landing pad.

Maybe we’ll meet again. A Mandalorian farewell.

Nia watched her from the cockpit, waving back as Anella grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view.

Din was setting coordinates for Nevarro when a message came through. Peli’s voice was crackly but clear.

“You two are in luck; I was able to recover most of the data. Come back to Tatooine when you can–and don’t forget the rest of my money.”

He immediately plotted coordinates for Tatooine. Unfortunately, Coruscant being Coruscant, it was actually almost two full hours later till they made the jump to hyperspace and he could leave the flight deck.

He found Nia down in the hull, putting away the armor cleaner that usually only he used.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking her now shining beskar into the armory. “Yes… Part of me wishes we didn’t have to be apart, but we’ll see each other again.” She smiled back at him. “She liked you, you know.”

He chuckled. “I liked her too.”

Her eyes shone, warm and open. “Din. You… you have saved my life in so many ways. Without you…”

The look in Anella’s eye came to mind – I hoped you were dead – making him pull her into his arms. Safe, she was safe now.

She leaned back enough to look at him. “It means so much to me that you like my clan. Maybe… the next time we see Anella, I could ask if she would let you join. You could claim clan Vard’on when people ask. If you wanted.”

“A clan of three,” he said, trying it on for size and finding it a perfect fit.

She smiled, so much brighter and more beautiful than the stars that he just had to kiss her.

Din slipped his helmet on the next morning and opened the bunk door. Nia was already up, doing the final meditation of her stretching routine, completely still and her back straight as a saber.

He admired her form, the slope of her waist and the absolute control over her body she commanded. By the Mythosaur, he was beyond merely lucky to have a Match like her.

“You’re staring, my absence,” she said, without turning around to see him.

He smiled and went to sit behind her, pulling his helmet off before tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck.

Sea air and wildflowers.

“Absence?” he asked, interrupting the end of her meditation in more ways than one.

She relaxed back against him. “When you’re helmeted… I can feel the space where you should be, rather than actually you. You’re my favorite absence.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear.

A contented hum echoed from her chest as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

They sat there in the quiet perfect ordinariness for a while. That feeling of Something hurtling towards them returning. Though this time, it arrived.

Connection.

“What is this?” she murmured.

Pure and powerful.

It went beyond star bursts and comet fire.

It was… the birth of a galaxy. The miracle of Something from Nothing.

And at the same time, it was simply just her. And him.

Devotion flowed through his hands, tempered with loyalty and admiration. Strong and fierce. Familiar, but decidedly not his.

“Nia,” he whispered, head swirling with the rush.

“I thought the bond was just… a metaphor. A fairy tale…”

Surprise and awe joined the cocktail before simmering down into an amusement that sparkled.

This was her, Din realized after a moment. It was Nia. She was feeling all of this, and through where he touched her, he felt it too. Was she feeling him? How did she not drown in all these emotions?

Concern flooded the riptide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a hand slipping up to cup the back of his neck. Every place she touched him, Awareness flowed, nearly overwhelming. “Din?”

He nodded, finding his footing slowly but surely. “Yes. I… I feel you.”

Concern ebbed, replaced with shimmering adoration.

“Din Djarin, you like me,” she teased, curling against him.

He had to laugh. That was too small a word for everything he could guess she felt from him.

“I do.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, holding her tightly and basking in her. Without any effort at all, the words slipped out, soul-deep and earnest. “Will you marry me?”

Surprise detonated.

She breathed a giggle. “Grandmother warned me that Mandalorians move fast. I just assumed she was talking about sex.”

He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know…” Thoughtful consideration welled up.

She had to feel his nerves, his longing for this.

Instead of answering, however, she turned to face him, eyes already closed without any reminder. Her hands reached out for his face, and he guided them to his cheeks. She pulled him close again, pressing their brows together.

“Yes.”

Star bursts and comet fire. Coming from both him and her.

A smile so bright it splintered into a laugh bubbled up from within him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling too, eyes still closed.

He nearly asked her to open them. Breaking his Oath seemed almost worth it to see her eyes with his own in that moment.

But something deep recoiled at the thought. So instead he kissed her, soft and sweet.

“When?” she asked, lips still brushing his.

He kissed her again. And again. And again, moving slowly up her jaw, fingers brushing through her curls. “Now?” he asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Really?”

“Mhi solus tome–”

We are one together. The first line of the vows.

She gasped and pulled half back, but he reeled her back in, laughing and nowhere near done kissing her. Her surprise and amusement bubbled.

“Grandmother would never forgive you if you married me on the floor of your ship.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “Would you forgive me?”

“I’d have to think about it,” she teased with a grin he happily kissed away.

“Where should we go then?” A kiss to her forehead. “Naboo?” A nibble to her chin. “Coruscant?” A rub to her nose with his. “Mandalore?”

She laughed. “Yes, reclaim Mandalore for me, and I’ll marry you by the lake outside of Keldabe.”

“De ner haat.”

By my honor.

Still smiling, she kissed him once more and then relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, a hand stroking through the hair by his ear. Her happiness sparkled under his skin everywhere she touched him.

“I don’t care where… but I would like to have my eyes open. When we marry, I want to see you.”

A thin curl of worry smoldered in his throat. “Will the helmet be enough?”

She was quiet for a long moment, considering again. “Yes. I will never ask you to break your Oath for me, de ner haat.”

The worry immediately extinguished. He kissed her forehead. “Vor entye.”

I accept this debt. Or thank you.

“Of course, ner riduur.”

My husband.

He smiled and held her tighter, the edges of his person threatening to burst from their shared joy too large to be contained within just himself.

“Din Djarin of clan Vard’on, chosen of Niæna, has a nice sound to it,” she said, smiling too.

“Yes. It does.”

They arrived in Tatooine the next day, Peli extremely happy to see her money. And also them.

Nia flipped through the recovered data, the proof of Peli’s hard work evident in the relief in her eyes. “It’s here. This can all be traced back to Terreck and Phasia,” she said before tucking the drive away.

“Thank you, Peli,” Din said, offering a hand.

She looked surprised then shook his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t that difficult. And tell you what, next time you come to Tatooine, I’ll get rid of that dent on the back side of the ship for you. Half-price.”

Now with the evidence in hand, it was time to reach back out to Ro.

Nia left another puzzle box on the doorstep of her house, hoping that it hadn’t been abandoned.

But even if Ro was still around, there was no guarantee that she would answer.

However, about a week after they left the message, they got a holo request. Nia looked back at him from where she sat in the captain’s chair, face twisted with worry. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she accepted the call.

Ro appeared, her semi-translucent face completely neutral.

“Ro, I’m glad you called,” Nia said, offering a slight smile.

Ro nodded once. “Your message said you can explain what happened.”

“I can, yes. Phasia… she was working for someone else. Someone bad. And I can prove it. I swear by the Manda’lor. I swear by Anella.”

“Fine, fine. Bring your proof and I’ll listen. But I want to meet with just you. Leave the buckethead behind.”

Nia looked his way. He pulled off a glove, brushing fingers against her hand out of view of the camera. Her worry flowed through the contact, but changed to gratitude as she felt his understanding.

“Alright. Tell me where, and I’ll come alone,” Nia promised.

“I’ll send coordinates.” But instead of hanging up, Ro paused. “If you… after we clear the air… it might be nice to… catch up.”

Nia’s whole face brightened. “Do you want to go camping? Like old times?”

“You remembered,” Ro said with a small smile.

“I did, yeah. Finally.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Since Nia was going to be with Ro for a few days, Din decided he’d be better off finding something to do with his time rather than just wait. Luckily, Ranzar Malk had a job that fit very neatly within their schedule.

And it was only slightly illegal.

“Why do you work with Ran?” Nia asked as she adjusted the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

Din picked up a few extra ration bars from their supply in the hull wall and slipped them into her backpack, as well as a flash grenade. Just to be safe. “He pays. And we need the money.”

She turned around. “The Guild also pays.”

“He pays more.”

He was wearing his gloves so he couldn’t feel her thoughts when she threaded her fingers with his. But he could see them plain on her face anyway.

“You’re disappointed,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I understand survival. But… I don’t know, hopefully someday we can choose between the right thing and the job.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Just please be safe. Don’t let Xi’an stab you.”

“Don’t let Ro stab you,” he replied, making her smile.

“I promise.”

This was the first time in nearly nine months of being together they were going to purposefully part for more than a few hours. As she made to step away, he pulled her back in, close enough to rest the brow of his helmet on hers.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he whispered, even as he reminded himself that they weren’t physically joined at the hip.

She smiled softly and touched his helmet as if she was cupping his cheek. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one apart – the second line of the marriage vows.

Heart surging up into his throat, he reached for his helmet before he could change his mind. Automatically, she closed her eyes. “Wait. Don’t,” he whispered, something deep inside him shaking.

Her eyes opened slowly, surprise drawing them wide as he reached up again. He lost sight of her as he tipped the helmet up just far enough to kiss her good-bye, gently yet meaningfully.

It wasn’t quite an Oath break, right?

Her fingertips brushed over his jaw, his lips. The awe tingling through the connection made him smile, the first one she’d ever seen.

She gasped and pressed a kiss to the bare spot in his facial hair where a beard stubbornly refused to grow. “You have a beautiful smile, Din Djarin,” she whispered, a fingertip brushing his dimple.

He lowered the helmet back into place and she came into view again, her warm smile still on her face. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” he replied, leaning over and opened the hull door.

Sunlight flooded the room as Nia grabbed her staff from its usual resting place. Ro was waiting just outside of the treeline, hands folded behind her back and her own bag at her feet. Her expression softened as Nia came into view.

Nia jogged down the ramp, stopping one last time to wave back at Din, before running to join Ro. They spoke for a few moments before Ro grabbed her bag and they fell into step, heading down the path together.

Din watched them go till Nia disappeared between the trees, already counting the minutes till he could kiss her again as he closed the hull door and flew away.

As Ran’s quick, easy, and not-all-that-illegal job turned out to be none of those things, Din promised himself this was the last time he’d work with this crew. The two of them could make it by with just the Guild from now on. Dodging fang and knife attacks from your supposed partners was not worth the pay bump.

Ignoring offers for drinks with most of the crew (and far more than just drinks with Xi’an), Din immediately grabbed his share and jumped into hyperspace. Ran’s poor planning had made him a few hours later to meet Nia than he’d originally hoped.

Din half-expected her to be waiting by the treeline as he landed in the exact same spot he’d left her in two days ago.

But she wasn’t there.

That was fine. He knew where they were planning to camp, not even half a mile down the path, near the river.

Maybe he could surprise her, he thought as he headed down the trail, fallen leaves squishing underfoot. Huh, they probably got rained on quite a bit.

He heard the babbling of the river first. And soon after the path through the trees widened with the bank, revealing a near panoramic view of the river bend.

It’d be the perfect spot to camp. But he didn’t see any signs of fire pits or sleeping rolls in the softened earth.

No sign of Nia or Ro either.

What he did see, drew him to a full stop.

Nia’s staff laid abandoned in the mud.

He stared at it for a long moment, before looking around. “Nia?” he called, loud enough to be heard in the nearby vicinity. But there was no answer.

He wrenched the staff from the mud, the weapon half-buried as if… as if it’d been left for some time.

“NIA?” he yelled again before searching for the story in the river bank. However, the heavy rain had washed anything useful away, leaving only rivulet trails and puddles behind. Not even his visor could identify footprints.

A black pit opened up in his gut, large enough to swallow him whole.

He ripped off his helmet, breath fogging slightly in the air, and looked around wildly with his own eyes.

“NIA,” he bellowed, voice breaking as it echoed between the spaces in the forest and across the water.

Silence was the only reply.

Nia was gone.

It was several weeks later that Din was back in the Vod’oya headquarters, this time alone. He set up the holo recorder on the table and activated it, stepping back to the foot and trying to pick a place to begin.

“Anella, I have… Something’s happened.”

He looked at the glowing light of the recorder and knew that this wasn’t the right way to do this, for so many reasons. But fear more than Creed kept his helmet on his head.

“Nia’s gone missing,” he said, face screwing up from the stabbing pain of it. “She met with Ro, they were together for two days, and… and she wasn’t there when I returned. I don’t know if Ro did something, or if someone took them both, or…

He shook his head, just barely holding together enough to get out the words. “I have searched everywhere I can think. Ro’s house is abandoned. No one’s been through the school but me. Even Basslan seems to have gone underground, his staff haven’t seen him for months. I’ve thought about putting out a bounty for Nia, but… I don’t want her getting hurt.

“I’m never going to stop looking for her, de ner haat. But I don’t know what to do. And I’m out of credits. When you get this message, if you want to reach me, you can find me on Nevarro. Leave word at the cantina or with Greef Karga.”

He made himself make eye contact with the glowing lens, as if it would make a difference behind his beskar barrier. “I’m sorry, I…” He sucked a shaking breath. “I’m so sorry, Anella.”

And he ended the recording.

There was one last place he hadn’t gone yet for help.

But now with nothing left, and him nearly ready to believe he deserved it, he returned to the Covert.

Visored gazes felt heavy, pressing in on his armor. Did they know? Would they hate him for losing what so few were lucky to find?

He ducked his head and didn’t pause till he reached the armory, sitting down in front of the forge. Hoping – praying – that this would fix… anything. Something.

The Armorer put down her hammer and sat across from him. Even through two barriers of beskar, her gaze was leaden. “What is it you seek?”

Din dropped his view to his lap, shoulders bowing under the weight of Everything. “...My Match. She was taken,” he finally admitted, breath cutting out of him unevenly through his meager remaining control.

“By who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have searched… everywhere.” His control snapped, throat tightened. It was like he suddenly couldn’t breathe for the weight of his cuirass. “She’s… she cannot be found. Even by me.”

“Did she see your face?” she asked calmly.

Her question, in light of everything he’d just told her, everything he’d been living through, everything he’d lost, scalded and immediately scarred.

He stared at her for a moment. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

No. No, it didn’t. It DID NOT MATTER.

Outrage making his hands shake, he wrenched off his helmet, throwing it to the ground with such force it bounced and rolled away.

But the Armorer saw his intent and turned before she saw his face.

It just fueled his rage. He wanted her to see, to take this away from him too.

“She was my Match!” he shouted, standing to his feet. “How was she, above every other living thing in the galaxy, still forbidden from knowing my face?”

The Armorer tipped her helmet slightly, but didn’t look away from the opposite wall. “This Is The Way.”

“It was not The Way for other Mandalorians! She was clan Vard’on; her ancestors were there to ride the Mythosaur. I met her clan! I saw their faces!”

“Some Mandalorians have abandoned the true ways. But you have not yet answered my question. Did she see your face?” she asked again, completely unfazed from his outrage.

He sucked in several shuddering breaths as the cruel truth welled up in his throat.

Nia was his Match. She was bonded so closely to him he felt her emotions. She had agreed to marry him. She wanted to be one when they were together, to be one when they were apart, to share everything, to raise their children as warriors, and yet–

“No. She never knew my face.”

The only sound was his low gasps as he wept for all that had been stolen from his care, stolen because he hadn’t been vigilant enough to protect it. Reckless, careless, and now–

Matchless.

He dropped back onto the bench, head in hands as the truth ran its course through him, leaking out drop by drop, till he was Empty.

Only once he’d grown quiet again, did the Armorer stand and walk calmly to where his helmet had landed. Never once looking at him.

“Even in your hardship, you have been given a blessing.”

Din stared down at his hands, empty and disconnected. “What blessing?” he asked, bitterly.

“The galaxy can take your Match. It can take your parents, your planet. And one day, it will take your life,” she said calmly as she circled around to stand behind him. “But it cannot take your belief.”

She set the helmet down on the bench next to him and continued, “Hold fast. And do not surrender what can never be taken from you, Mandalorian.”

He stared at the helmet for a long while.

If he walked away right now, he would truly have No One. Nothing.

And he would deserve it.

He rested a hand on the top, and the emptiness between his lungs cauterized to a permanent hole. Ragged, but not bleeding. Not anymore.

He picked the helmet and slipped it over his head, seeing the world only through his view screen once more.

“This Is The Way,” the Armorer said.

“This Is The Way,” he repeated.

After all,

What’s a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

End of Part I

Interlude I ; posting soon!

taglist: @loversandantiheroes ; @kelenloth ; @keeper0fthestars ; @sarahjkl82-blog ; @thirstworldproblemss ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @i-belong-in-fandoms ; @gallowsjoker ; @nova646 ; @darnitdraco

#The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #Din Djarin x ofc #mando x ofc #din djarin x oc #mando x oc #din djarin fanfiction #soulmate au #star crossed #my writing

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lesbian-in-leather · 3 years

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So it's a little late but I finally made the extended version of this post

I'm just going to rewatch the trailer and write down all of my thoughts, but actually expand on everything this time (and it'll actually be mostly in order)

Maybe it's just the cut for the trailer, but the lawyer scene feels very rushed. BBC made it comedic in its own right, not just a setup, but here it feels very much like "have some exposition so we can get to the ghosts". The ghosts should not be the only point of comedy - they're important, sure, but "Samantha" and "Jay" should be able to carry a scene by themselves

"Samantha" doesn't think it through. At all. She cuts off the lawyer after his first buyer suggestion, and "Jay" doesn't seem to be on board with the idea. In the OG, they were both into this (admittedly bad) idea, so the responsibility was on both of them. Yes they rushed into it, but it was way more thought out than just hearing the words "bed and breakfast" and deciding that's your new plan

Why did they age down Pat for "Pete". I hate it. He's younger and skinnier and there's no reason. Like yeah, the OG doesn't have AMAZING diversity, but it's better than this - don't take out diversity in a remake. Didn't think I'd have to spell that one out

The sage joke is admittedly funny. However, it gives us some insight into the ghosts that I'm not the biggest fan of, and let's us see a lot of their new designs. Let's go across, shall we?

"Issac" is so much less dignified than Thomas. I understand that Thomas isn't always as poised as he'd like to think, but there's a level of class that's missing from "Issac", right down to the way he stands

"Flower" looks high. How can a ghost be high, you ask? No idea. But here we are.

"Sasappis" (I read in an article that this is a character name and I believe tis the Native American guy) has such a tiny reaction I almost missed it. He barely moves while everyone else freaks out. I'm hoping they didn't create this character out of the 'emotionless Native American' stereotype but... I guess we'll see

"Hetty" is the replacement for Lady B, and she's super expressive, protective of the others, and so much younger. She was supposed to be a grumpy mother/grandmother figure - why is she literally leaping in front of the others to protect them? That should be the Captain's job but they've axed him so I guess it falls to her now. Also, why did they make everyone so young?? Like, none of the ghosts look over 35. Why. This was unnecessary and, quite frankly, stupid. Why is everyone at this house dying so young? Just so they can market them as fuckable???? L o a t h i n g

Viking Man also barely moved. He seems interested in the sage and is basically a "cooler" version of Robin as far as I can tell. They seem to have taken away the joy of Robin's character, leaving only Some Guy which would be bad in any genre, but ESPECIALLY a comedy. He has potential in theory, but I feel they aren't going to utalise it

"Trevor". I have so much loathing for this man. Let's have some overall analysis, shall we? First of all, we'll start with, what I hope is a well known fact: Julian is not a good person. I love him as a character and he is starting to learn and grow, but at no point does the BBC or the other characters try to justify his behaviour. CBS saw this, and made Trevor. Trevor is younger than Julian (because for some reason they AGED EVERYONE DOWN), which also makes people far more likely to excuse his actions. They seem to be trying to make him a 'loveable fuckup' who makes bad choices because of privaledge, and I am. So worried. That they're going to try and excuse his actions. He already feels like a writer's self-insert and that never bodes well, especially in this type of character. Mark my words, they're going to market him as the 'relateable' one while having him spout misogynistic views (probably also homophobic and maybe even mildly racist/xenophobic ones too)

MOVING ON

Why is "Pete" sarcastic? I don't like it. Pat wouldn't be the one yelling aggressive comments while everyone's actually doing something together - he should be happy! Encouraging! He should be trying to catch up to the moving group instead of attempting to draw attention away from it!

Everyone looked so happy for the dead relative when she moved on. Hate that - it was so funny in BBC when they were like 'fuck off why does she get to leave' - having "Pete" be happy is fine, but the rest of them? WHY IS "HETTY" HAPPY.

Oh look, "Travor" actively flicks "Pete's" arrow to cause him pain. Why. That was so unecessary. None of the ghosts should try to hurt each other out of pure malice, and they certainly shouldn't get joy from it. It feels like CBS is trying to turn us against "Pete" and put us on "Trevor's" side, which I called, but am not a fan of.

And here she is. "Alberta". What the FUCK did they do to Kitty. She has Kitty's colour palette and fits the diversity demographic, but that is where the resemblance stops. Kitty is SUCH a wonderful character because she was an upper class black woman who was allowed to be soft and sweet and innocent and the others all protected her and I LOVED IT. Do you want to hear some fun descriptors they gave to "Alberta" in this article?

"In her time, she dated a bootlegger and has “seen it all,” and is a bit of a diva. Though tough and not one to take crap from anyone, she has a maternal streak and often acts as the protective den mother to the “family” of ghosts"

This is not only far closer to so many stereotypes, but it's the polar opposite of Kitty!! Having a flapper was a pretty cool idea but she could have had the same character traits as Kitty! Why change that! There was NO REASON TO RUIN HER. Also is it just me, or does it seem like they've made way too many of them sarcastic? Like, they've taken away Alison's snarky streak but given sarcastic lines to way too many of the characters

Also can I just take a moment to question the sheer amount of ghosts they've included. I understand that technically there's about the same amount. But with so much less of American history to draw on and the questionable character choices they've made, it feels like there are so many undefineable characters. Like, how do we differentiate them?? Even in the trailer there are so many scenes where most of them are just... standing around. In BBC, they're all so distinct and you get so much out of rewatches because they're all always doing something - look in the background of any shot and the ghosts who aren't talking have a reason to be there! But in this they're just... standing around. Do better.

I've just realised I'm only 0:59 seconds into a 2:16 trailer so I'm going to split this into two parts

Part two is here

#bbc ghosts #cbs ghosts #analysis #rant #i'm still mad

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dimonds456 · 3 years

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TOH Season 2, 4 Theories (SPOILERS!)

So we're only 4 episodes in, and there's a LOT going on. I have 3 theories (and one that's more speculation) that I want to share (that have probably already been discussed before, but I haven't seen them, so here I go), and they're all beneath the cut! I wanna talk about King, Belos, and a third one that might surprise you, but I can't say just yet because ~dramatic buildup.~

MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING!

THEORY 1: King is a Titan

This has been a theory since Season 1, but it's reeeeally getting expanded upon here. It's hinted at that King might have a deeper backstory than he's been given, if those carvings and his memory gaps are anything to go off of.

However, we can find proof in his design and the design in that of the Boiling Isles themselves. They were birthed from an actual Titan, right? We see the Titan's still-beating heart in Belos' throne room. The Isles are his organs and ribcage. His skull sits in the water, eye sockets looking out over all.

Lookit it all. Gross. :)

Now look at his skull specifically. He's got those two horns on top of his head, looking to be a similar-to-exactly-the-same shape as King's, which is even more apparent since his other horn is fixed now.

(Side theory, King's collar is a glyph, look at the design. What does it do? idk, but I think it's gonna be Epic, and perhaps only he or another Titan can activate it. But I have no proof and just wanted to throw that one out there for consideration.)

Different noses, sure, but this Titan is also more mature. And bigger. That could change as King gets older.

If this theory is true, then that means Emperor Belos- who is rumored to be able to communicate WITH THE BOILING ISLES TITAN- is going to want King at some point. If he is able to RAISE A TITAN, that would strengthen the theory that he has this ~special connection~ with the Titan and put him in so much more power. King is easy to please, too, meaning that he might go along with it.

Leading me to:

THEORY 2: Belos is a human

Look at this series of quotes from Gwen Clawthorne from S2E4:

(Starting with when she says "You're not the only human to have lived in Bones Burrow," but image limit, so.)

[Image ID: four screenshots from The Owl House. The first is a picture of Gwen with the quote "there's a rare substance called Titan's blood." The next is Gwen in a different pose, with the quote "it is extremely powerful, and oftentimes causes leaks between our realms." The third is a picture if Luz, with her eyes wide with shock. Gwen is still speaking though, with the quote "but humans... are rare." The fourth is back to Gwen, with her hands up and the quote "my great-grandmother told me about a human who once lived here, but one day, he just vanished." End ID.]

"a human who once lived here, but one day, he just vanished."

Notice the use of he/him pronouns here. I was originally thinking it was whoever wrote the Azura books- and that is not off the table, really- but... the circumstances of him just vanishing are suspicious at best and earth-shattering at worst.

What if he never left?

We have never seen Belo's face. He was breathing hard when we first saw him, implying he's sick somehow, but was better after he Murdered a Man and poured goop in his eyes. He's never actually used magic before that we've seen. The only hint of power is that he's able to "talk with the Titan" and therefore that makes him better.

If he truly is a human, then that would be why he wears the mask. His ears would look like Luz's, not like a resident of the Boiling Isles. He has no magic. Or, if he does, he's channeling it in a way similar to Luz herself. He's been here for a LONG TIME, meaning he's becoming old and frail- or he should be, if it weren't for the Miracle Eye Healing Goop.

This would explain the portal Eda found out in the woods, and why Belos knows what it is. It was his portal. But, because Eda had it by the time he realized he wanted it back for whatever nefarious purposes he wanted that portal back for, he never got it.

But he's living literally right next to the Titan's still-beating heart. If Titan's blood is what allows for dimensional rifts, like Gwen says it can do, that means his throne is located directly in front of Luz's way home. He just needs a way to open the rift, which is where the portal comes in. The portal is there to channel the blood and create a rift on purpose, just like Eda's old portal could.

In fact, Luz probably has the "key" to opening that rift already. She just needs the blood and a vessel to complete the ritual.

Really think about it. Luz comes from our world, pretty much just as it is, and enters the Boiling Isles, where there is no discrimination on the same level of humanity. You can love freely, be freely, and crimes are judged on the action, not the person. Belos would have come from that same world, and saw how free it is here. If he wanted to take control and power, the only way he could ever do so would be to have the witches living here willingly give up their magic. He could not force them. So, he came up with the lie he can speak to the Titan.

Or, if it's not a lie, he used that power for evil instead of good. This leaves the implication that,

THEORY 3: Luz can ALSO talk to the Titan

This one is just speculation, but if Belos can do it, why not she? And if this IS a real ability Belos has, and he's been lying to everyone, Luz could be able to actually speak to the Titan and find out what it really wants. I imagine that it's probably not happy with Belos, but it can't just move or the entire Isles get destroyed. Or, he's physically unable to. Or perhaps, she can find out why the Titan wants magic restrained and find a different way.

If Belos is a human, then he and Luz contrast each other in that their journeys are the same. They both stumbled into this world by accident, they came from a world that wanted to stifle them, they entered a free world, and they wanted to stay.

The difference here is the power. While Belos reached for it, I predict Luz will be presented with a similar opportunity and throw it away. She becomes powerful in that she has her friends behind her, and that's all she needs. Her power comes from her determination and selflessness, whereas Belos' comes from his lies and selfishness.

Though, that story sounds familiar doesn't it? Which leads me to my final theory...

THEORY 4: The Good Witch Azura

I have 2 theories for this one, but they can both be grouped under one, so here we go.

Theory A) The Good Witch Azura was a REAL WITCH.

If these rifts can open because of Titan's blood, then there's a good chance that people like Eda had found the human world, too. And decided to stay for whatever reason.

Azura may have been writing an autobiography, or wanted to share to the human world about the Boiling Isles without directly saying it exists. Maybe she/they wanted to just get away from it, but missed the way it used to be, and expressed that through writing that happened to get popular.

Another mini theory that falls under this one is the idea that maybe someone tried to stand up to Belos early on, a sort of mirror to modern Eda. She/they saw how corrupt the system would become, and decided to flee or find help.

Theory B) Belos WROTE the Azura books

Now hear me out.

Going back to the 'Belos is a human' theory, that means he came from the human world, and for a time, he had a way of going back and forth between realms before he either lost or rejected his portal. Well, I don't know what his plans are, but if the fact that he's trying to get back to the human world are any indication, then I'd say he wants humans to know.

What if he's trying to spread his power and control? He has all the most powerful witches working under him, right? So it'd be easy to declare war on humanity. Just drop in without warning, cause havoc, and leave before they can retaliate. Then, do the same to a different location and leave before they can do anything. Do this again and again at random, and eventually, they surrender.

So why the Azura books? Well, I'm not entirely sure, but he's marketing books that are shockingly similar to how magic works in the Boiling Isles to humans, with messages about cheesy love and acceptance and working together. Humans eat that stuff right up. He may be testing the waters somehow.

I gotta be honest, I don't know why he'd write about those things, and the only episode I have to go off of is the writing/crunchtime episode from Season 1.

Oh, and this.

[Image ID: The same scene with Gwen that was shown before, but a continuation of the quote. Two screenshots this time, the first with the quote "Rumor has it he left something in the library, and- if you can find it-" then continued, "and if you can find out more about him..." End ID]

Luz: "Maybe I could find out how he got here!"

What if that something is the Azura books? What if there's a secret hidden within their pages, asking the humans to seek the witches out? Asking them to be entranced with this wondrous world, just as he was? What if he's asking them to come here?

"Knock knock, human."

Seasons 2 and 3 are gonna be wild.

#dimond speaks #the owl house #the owl house season 2 #toh #toh season 2 #toh s2 #toh spoilers #toh s2 spoilers #the owl house spoilers #theory #toh theory #toh theories #toh s2 theory #emperor belos #king toh #toh king

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