#and i tried the grief thing but instead i just got a talking buddy? he helps me get out of the house yeah.

[transgender-catboy]

I love my friends

[http-finnick]

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: he said he'd be better, that he'd stop going to her for help and turn to his wife, but you stopped believing his lies a long time ago.

cw: emotional cheating

"you don't understand"

"tell me! make me understand!" your throat hurt, your eyes burn as you scream at him. completely done with grief passing and acceptance ready to take its position

you just can't anymore.

not with him. not with anyone.

"just give me time" "10 years! I gave you 10 fucking years how many more do you want!"

"why can't you work with me?" he yelled, slamming his fist into the island table that separates you.

.

being a wife to a victor isn't always easy.

it might seem like a comfortable life.

but it's anything but that.

you were childhood friends, lifelong buddies. when he got reaped it broke you but you still were there for him. always hearing him out, never pushing him when it wasn't needed, you were always there for him.

when she got reaped the next year and won, finnick went to you with relief and dread all over

"she could've died." "that would've been on me"

"all of those tributes are on me"

he wept and wept and you carried him, hugging him so tightly he'd turn blue.

he never really talked about his games. even when you started dating at 16 he'd always keep it short.

you knew it was bad that he hid his feelings but when you tried to help it ended up in a fight and him running off

you'd find him drunk the next day.

but soon he'd come back sober, better, healed.

you had no idea what 360 happened to him, but you were grateful

when you asked him about it he shrugged and mumbled he was talking to someone

finally, he's getting help.

once you found out it wasn't a shrink but a girl, Annie to be exact. you weren't mad, more curious

you asked him why you found out that it was her through town gossip and not his lips, but a shrug was all you got.

"I don't see the big deal here"

your lover was gone. now just some housemate instead of our husband.

you cried in the shower and put a smile on through the rest of your days.

soon it wasn't the games he kept from you and told her, it was everything

even asking what he ate for breakfast was a simple "nothing"

you couldn't stop your sobs that into the pillow, your shaking frame and chokes of breaths that got caught in your throat must've irked him enough to wrap his arms around you

you realized thats the most contact you've had with him in months. he mumbled sorry and promised to be better.

but he wasnt.

years passed and he was not not telling you things, it's just he'd lie about them

you saw him eat toast this morning, so simple, so why'd he say eggs? you saw him pick up roses, came home empty-handed, he said they were for his mother's grave. but her grave was flowerless the next day.

theses little things made the words affair scream in your head, and now you're here, and you've snapped.

.

"finnick. i've been trying to work with you, give you time, help you, for fucking years" you said, voice shaking but calm as tears roll down your cheek

"i've been dying" you added

"you haven't touched me in years, I feel like a failure and all you want is fucking her so go!" you screamed at the end, staring at him straight in his eyes as he looked at you with guilt layered with surprise

"I don't know what you want from me" he shakes his head and your hand slams down on the counter to make sure you aren't hallucinating this bullshit

"the bare fucking minimum! you're supposed to go to me when you feel like you can't go anywhere! you're supposed to go to me when you need someone or just want to be around anyone! you can't even do that so why did you marry me?" you're left in silence as he stares at the floor

"I can't talk to you about this stuff, you wouldn't get it. you didn't go through what I wen-"

"I wish I did. I wish I was reaped so you didn't become this sad mess of a person. finnick, I'm sick of hearing this because you say she's helping you but you're still the same 14-year-old left in the arena." you cry out, he looks up at you with tears swirling in his eyes, jaw clenched as he processes your words

"I'm better, I'm getting better"

"no. no you're not. you'd be better with a real therapist, not someone just as broken as you."

he grips the table and his teeth sink down into his lips, you see the blood pool but you also see the realization in his eyes

"you need help finnick, and I hope you find it." and with that, you grab your coat and head for the door

"s-so what? you're gonna leave me like this? at my worst?" he chokes on his tears, pleading eyes staring at your frame

"you've always been at your worst." you shrug with the last of your tears falling to the floor and walk out into the cloudy air that welcomes you to a new life.

one that you'll be free.

an: hey guys :) I know some of you might disagree with y/n here but it's okay lmao. I really wanted to write angst for nonvictor!y/n x finnick because I feel for her that he went through all of that and she's just there. and having him go to another woman who doesn't help him but just drives him away from real help and his wife, ooo just angsty angsty angstyyyy! also, i really like the name for this one because it goes both ways. y/n will never be better than annie in his eyes and he is never gonna be 100% okay again. anyway, I love you guys so much!

[sunbunzie]

Hot Take: Hero would not forgive Sunny and Basil. (MAJOR SPOILERS!)

Last warning for spoilers :3 Also longevity warning. This thing is 1118 words total. lmao. Also if you’re expierencing thoughts about suicide, please reach out. (TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide, A POV of depression, Omori stuff man this game makes me want to sob) The truth about Mari is that Mari didn’t take her own life- Sunny pushed her down the stairs accidentally. Witnessing this, a panicked Basil decides to “help” Sunny by framing Mari’s death as suicide, hanging our dearest Mari on a tree bu a jumprope, making everyone believe she committed suicide. 

Little, innocent Aubrey thought she committed suicide. Our rau of sunshine Kel thought she committed suicide. And Mari’s dear lover, our Hero, thought she committed suicide. 

Lets talk about Hero’s grief for a bit.

-HEROS GRIEF-

As stated by KEL in the game, Hero refused to get out of bed, go to school, eat, and other important things because of Mari’s death. This lasted for about a year.

Kel then continues on to say that he tried to get Hero out of bed one day, saying how everyone misses him and such. Hero responds negatively to this, still stuck in a abyss of depression. The more Kel tried to encourage him, the more and more upset Hero gets, until the point where he snaps at his on brother. 

“He suddenly got up and started screaming and yelling at me about a bunch of stuff. Some of it eas pretty hurtful too..” 

-KEL

We all know, under any other circumstance, Hero would never say anything mean or hurtful to Kel. Even sibling-to-sibling “bullying” doesn’t apply to these two. They care for each other enough to never say anything mean.

But under this circumstance, Mari is gone. Hero loved Mari. And now she was gone. But Hero was still alive. (/ref lmao.) He became so overcome with grief and sadness that he just unpiled it onto young Kel, who was only trying to help. Luckily, after their parents be literal bitches and ignore Kel crying and comfort Hero, Hero comes to his senses and apologizes to Kel over and over. Hero seems to get better after this.

“Eventually, mom and mom ran to our room and rushed over to hug him to calm him down. 

-(cut part because this isnt a kel analysis post. sorry buddy you gotta wait your turn)

“I think that’s when HERO got his senses back, because he ran to me and hugged me right away. 

“Just kept apologizing over and over..

”But.. at least HERO got a lot better after that. He started taking care of himself again..”

BUT OF COURSE we know he really didn’t get better. When Hero joins your party, at first he doesn’t want to go to Mari’s grave. Whenever Sunny tried to go there, Hero stops him by saying he isn’t ready yet.

When we do get there however, its then revealed that Hero never realky visited Mari’s grave. Probably because it hurt to think about her. Every day, every waking moment he was reminded of her, and he couldn’t stop her from leaving him. Four yeare, four years he blamed himself for Mari’s suicide, thinking and forcing himself to believe that it was all his fault because he didn’t see the signs to stop her from leaving…

Except there were no signs.

Mari never chose to leave them.

She never chose to take her life.

She didnt take her own life.

Instead, the one who took her life..

Was her brother, Sunny.

-THE TRUTH-

While we have absolutely no idea what happens after the good ending/any of the endings (well we know Sunny moved and left Basil to pick up the scraps 💀 we’ll save that for another post), since this fandom is so goddamn immersed we do have enough to make a theory about each friend. 

A lot of people say they would all forgive Sunny and Basil eventually, but I think the case is different with Hero. Which is probably what you’re here for actually, so let’s just set the claim:

Hero will NOT be able to forgive Sunny and Basil, and he might never be able to forgive them.

This is because of Hero’s Grief.

Imagine that you loved someone dearly (could be platonic for all you aromantic besties) and they committed suicide. 

Imagine you spent four years blaming yourself, grieving, asking yourself “why” every single day, because there was nothinf you could do to stop them, you didnt see the signs, you thought everything was fine with them, but you were wrong, and you failed them. You’d call yourself the worst lover/best friend to ever exist, beating yourself into a mindset that they never loved you, or if they did, they didnt love you enough to stick around, and that impacted your life so badly that you almost starved yourself and starting saying mean things to your family/those who are trying to help.

Now imagine that..

And then crumple it up and throw it away.

Everything was a lie. You thought they killed themselves, but in the end someone else was responsible for their death. Someone else took their life. Someone else made you believe that they hung themselves and that you failed and that you’re a failure and that you don’t deserve to live while they’re gone.

Sure, the whole thing was an acccident, but either way that grief was all for NOTHING. Ever bad thought, every remark, every meal skipped, every day spent in bed was a waste. You never had anything to blame yourself for. It was never your fault. And the two people reponsible had hidden it for four years.

Hell, screw what I said before about it beibg an accident. The pushing was accidental, but the hanging wasnt. Of course, Basil was a scared kid, but why wasnt the ambulance the first thing in mind? Why did they frame her? Why did Sunny let him do it?

Some people argue that Hero forgave Aubrey for pushing Basil in the lake, but that was different. Yes, they were both impulses of anger, but Basil had time to survive. People were there. You can get water out of people’s lungs. You can’t fix a broken neck. 

And also, Aubrey had more witnesses. She wouldn’t have been able to frame it as anything, because the whole town would probably know about it within a few days (Gossiptown fr💀). If Basil died in the lake, there wouldn’t have been a hidden truth. There wouldnt have been lies. No four years of thinking Basil drowned himself. Because they already knew.

Now I’d suspect if Basil did actually die, the forgiveness wouldnt be so quick. (Someone better make a fanfic of that scenario /nf)

AND SO THE TL;DR IS: Hero would not forgive Sunny and Basil, because what it did to him was too mentally draining, and the lies were too much. No matter how much he would think about how it affected them, he would only ever be able to think about his grief and the consequences.

Again, this is my personal theory, but feel free to peacefully argue with me! Or give more details :0

Thanks for reading all of this, if you did! If y’all want to suggest things for me to analyze just use the asks thingy :3 or get me to talk about headcannons. I love headcannons.

[lily-174]

not again part 5- jay halstead x reader

overview: you were saved from dale but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet. jay and both teams have to wait at med anxiously waiting to find out if you would love. what do they find out?

trigger warning: death, grief, hospitals, surgery, angst, mentions of jays ptsd, loss, miscarriage. big trigger warning again guys!

a/n- to the people who wanted a part 2 to painful ride, i’ll be writing that once i finish this <3

not proofread

part 6

***

jay, all of intelligence and the bau sat in the waiting room at chicago med. once you arrived you were immediately rushed into emergency surgery to try and control the internal bleeding. by the time you had reached the hospital your pulse was slow and thready.

it had been an hour, an hour of jay pacing up and down the waiting room filled with your colleagues. all jay could think about was how he didn’t get to say it back, and how your last words could have been wasted on telling him you loved him when you didn’t even hear him say it back.

he needed you to survive, he needed to say it back. he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend. you’d never even made it official. he didn’t want you to die thinking he just thought of you as a fuck buddy. that would kill him. he needed you alive, he promised himself he would take care of you every second of everyday if you survived.

“jay, sit down man.. she’s gonna be okay” adam tried to comfort jay, adam felt beyond guilt about this situation like it was his fault. but it wasn’t. no one blamed adam. the only one jay blamed was derek.

“you don’t know that. did you see her? she was beaten to the brink of death!” jay lashed out, immediately apologising to his colleague. but he couldn’t help it. seeing you like that, seeing you in the ambulance while brett had to put a tube down your throat so you could breathe.

jay had scene a lot, from this job. and the rangers. the things he saw during war would always haunt him but this might just haunt him a little bit more, he finally huffed and stopped pacing taking a seat next to antonio.

time past and jay couldn’t even keep track of it. his head in his hands as he sat in an uncomfortable chair thinking about all the things he wanted to do with you that might just not happen.

when jay next looked up he saw his familiar ginger headed brother walk past the waiting room, standing up jay followed him. leaving the waiting room jays heart raced as he approached will.

“will? do you know anything?” jay asked, will turned with a not very promising look on his face. will already knew jay loved you, jay would talk to will about you every time they saw each other. will knew if anything was to happen to you it would effect jay greatly.

“not a lot, but i have spoken to ethan and connor” will stated looking at his distraught brother, jay looked at will hoping whatever would come out of his mouth would give him hope.

“will is she gonna live?” will looked down unsure of how to word this to his brother of all people, jay knew the look on wills face better then will did.

“i don’t know jay, she’s lost a lot of blood. the internal bleeding is a lot to control it’s been touch and go since the surgery began. but she has one of the best surgeons working on her. stay hopeful” will explained, those words shot through jay like a bullet. jay wished it was him instead of you. all the pain you went through, now he knew. he knew you most likely wouldn’t make it off the table. holding back his tears jay nodded, will brought his brother into a hug i which jay returned before will had to return to one of his patients.

jay walked off heading to the bathroom, walking into a cubicle he locked the door behind him as the tears began streaming down from his cheeks. his mind was full of memories with you, what it was like to hold you in his arms, laugh with you. the memories when you first joined intelligence and you agreed to go to mollys with him and you both got a bit too drunk and had to wait outside for a taxi, but it was snowing and the floor was iced over. you both laughing and struggling not to slip on the ice. that night he caught you from falling…

𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬…

𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘹𝘪. 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

“𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘹𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦

“𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘺/𝘯. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘹𝘪 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢��.

𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘹𝘪, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮. 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘉𝘐

𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘫𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵. 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘮𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴

𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘹. 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺.

“𝘪’𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺” 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

flashback over..

that memory would stay with him forever, no matter what happened to you. he sat in the toilets tears falling down his freckle covered cheeks. he wanted to be with you. he loved you. he loved you so much.

he’d lost too many people, his dad, so many friends from the army, Jules, nadia.. but you. he couldn’t lose you. he couldn’t go through this again. some old wounds never truly heal, they can bleed again at the slightest words.. he felt the guilt and grief from everyone he’d ever lost while trying to prepare himself for the news that you died on that table. this isn’t normal. this isn’t how normal people live, jay thought to himself.

he tried composing himself wiping the tears from his cheeks, wanting to go back to sitting in the waiting room, he never cried. he hated crying, it made him feel weak, vulnerable, but he couldn’t help it. he left the cubicle walking over to the sink. he ran the tap, splashing cold water over his face before taking a deep breath and walking back out to the waiting room. the prying eyes looked up at jay as he re-entered the room. they hoped he had an update, but his red rimmed eyes gave it away.

“jay? you okay? did you hear anything?” erin asked as jay returned to sitting next to antonio, jay looked up looking directly at derek.

“i spoke to will, he doesn’t know if she’s going to make it. she’s lost a lot of blood, there’s a lot of internal bleeding. it’s been touch and go since the surgery started” jay explained staring directly at derek, as if blaming him for your injuries, dereks jaw clenched.

“jay as much as you think this is my fault it’s not. i’m sorry this happened. she’s a fighter. she’ll be okay”derek spoke up, derek did feel guilty, he couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince everyone in the room or himself. luckily voight and hotch had left to interview dale. so it was just the teams. jay tried he tried his best to control himself.

“not your fault?! you’re sorry? you wouldn’t have to be sorry if you did what you do desperately wanted to do in the first place” jay scoffed from opposite derek, jay was angry but his sadness was stronger. he just wanted to know if you were okay.

“don’t misplace your guilt on me because you feel bad for using her” those words infuriated jay. anger was better then tears, better the grief, better then guilt. jays blood boiled and he stood up.

“i used her?! i helped her! you’re the one who cheated on her after her cousin was killed! added to her pain! that was you.” derek stood, the anger now taking over his body, kevin, antonio and adam where luckily not in the room they were getting coffee for everyone. so that left the girls and spencer.

“you’re lucky we’re in a hospital i should lay you out right where you stand.” derek threatened jay. but jay didn’t care, all the sadness suddenly turned into anger.

“i’d advise against trying that. but come on. hit me!” jay smirked, he didn’t care if derek was bigger. jay was faster. he wanted to feel something, he wanted to feel something that wasn’t this paralysing feeling of loss. he wanted derek to hit him.

“calm down! take a walk!” erin shouted getting between the two guys, neither man looked down at her. their eyes were locked, jay wanted to get hit, he wanted physical pain, it would drown out the thoughts. the pain inside of him. he could feel his old habits kicking back in. all the grief from the army had set back in.

“erin get out the way.” derek warned and the fuelled the anger inside jay, the three women and spencer now trying to get some room between the two anger filled men.

“derek leave. get the fuck out.” jay shouted, causing derek to be the one to lung forward this time, planting a punch to jays face. jays army training immediately kicked in, forgetting where he was he punched derek in the nose before hitting him again in the jaw, the shouting the begging him to stop, jay couldnt hear anything as another punch was planted to jays jaw. jay was stuck, everything he’d tried to fight when he left the army came rushing back. the mind replays things the heart can’t delete.

that’s when kevin and adam entered the room again running towards the two men kevin restrained derek, adam took jay. the look in jays eyes adam has seen before. the trauma jay went through overseas permanently changed him.

“jay?” adam said holding jay so he couldn’t return to hitting derek, jay didn’t say anything a blank look in his eyes one of pure pain. right now in this moment something had triggered his ptsd he hated getting flashabacks of things he didn’t want to remember..

“jay!?” that made jay return, his expression changing he slid down the wall tears returning to his eyes but he refused to let him fall. kevin made derek leave, to go and help voight and aaron. while erin explained quickly to emily in as minimal detail as possible about jays ptsd.

adam forced jay to get up and sit on the chair so he could look at jays face, jay was embarrassed by his actions. he should’ve handled it differently instead of letting his anger take over.

“it’s fine man don’t worry about it” kev nodded patting jays shoulder, it had been hours since they heard anything from your doctors or surgeons now and everyone was on edge, and considering how close you and jay were they understood. when things calmed down they went back to waiting..

jays anxiety was at its peak, his chest felt tight as he bounced his leg up and down waiting to an update. he needed you to be alive. he sat between antonio and kevin as they all waited. looking down jay lost track of time again, everything blending into 1.

“give us an update when you get one okay? we’re gonna go check things out with voight” erin said to the 4 men, as erin, jj, emily and spencer began getting ready to leave, antonio nodded. jay felt a hand on his shoulder looking up to see erin.

“stay strong. she’ll need you when she wakes up” jay offered a small smile and nodded watching them leave, that left him, antonio, adam, and kev alone on the waiting room, the time approaching midnight.

time was going too slow, too slow for jays liking. he hated every second. he was becoming even more irritable and impatient every minute that passed, when finally connor and will walked into the room. the looked on their faces made jays heart drop, standing the four men rushed over to them.

“is she alive?” was the first thing that left jays mouth, he needed to know, his heart was racing as his hands became clammy. he could never be able to describe how he felt in that moment, but his chest was tight as he felt bile rise in his throat at the suspense.

“she is, we managed to get all of the bleeding under control. but jay.. she’s not out of the woods yet. we’ll know more when she wakes up. she has a long road ahead of her and she’s going to need a lot of support.” connor explained, you were alive. the relief jay felt was uncanny. he’d help you, he’d look after you.

“i’ll be there, i’ll look after her.” jay stated just wanting to see you, he wanted to hold your hand. he just needed to feel you, he needed proof you were alive, all day he’d been preparing for your death..

“we all will.” antonio added, kevin nodded agreeing. your team was amazing, they were all willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. and they would all help with your recovery.

“jay can we speak to you privately?” jay nodded his heart thumping in his chest as he followed his brother and will to a private area, jays chest tightened with anxiety scared of what was so important they had to pull him away from the team. will looked at his brother with pure grief in his eyes yet jay couldn’t figure out why.

“what couldn’t you tell me infront of the team?” jay asked his heart flooding with worry, maybe you’d had suffered an injury that would effect you for the rest of you life, but he was so wrong.

“jay you might wanna sit down” will said softly, jay almost felt like they were doing a notification but no you were alive. jay was terrified of his brothers next words.

“just tell me will. please.” jay begged just wanting this conversation to be over so he could see you, alive and on the mend.

“she was 8 weeks pregnant.. i’m so sorry” wills words made jay feel like his heart just shattered, no. he had to be wrong. there was no way. tears brimmed in jays eyes as he shook his head in denial.

“no.. you’re wrong, she can’t have been. she would’ve told me” jay gulped looking at his brother will in disbelief, jays chest tightened in a way it hadn’t ever done before, as a tear slipped out that he’d been trying so desperately to hold back..

“she probably didn’t know jay.. i’m so sorry” will said with pure compassion as he pulled jay into a hug, jay cried, he cried for the life his baby didn’t get a chance to live. he didn’t get to meet his own child, he didn’t even know. a sob left his mouth as wills tried his best to comfort his brother, yet wills was grieving too. that baby would’ve been his niece or nephew.

this was a type of grief no one warned jay about, it felt like fear. he wasn’t just grieving the baby, but the life of the baby he would never get a chance to meet, no first day at school, no birth, no first steps. he would never see any of it. the tears slipped down his cheeks feeling a pain he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

“i’m so sorry jay.” jay nodded as he pulled away from the hug, wiping the few stray tears from his face. jay had never felt such mixed emotions; grief, pain, sorrow, anger in his life. he needed to tell antonio. he wanted dale in the cage.

“i’m gonna call voight” jay stated trying to stop himself from sobbing uncontrollably, will nodded as jay pulled his phone from his pocket. scrolling through his contacts he pressed on voight contact holding the phone up to his ear.

“is she okay?” voight asked clearly having looked at the caller id for once jay took a deep breath wiping his eyes again before he spoke.

“she’s alive, not out of the woods yet but sarge.. she was pregnant” jay said the sorrow and pain in his voice showing even though he tried so desperately to hide it. jay heard a door slam on the other end of the line before he heard voight shout.

“put him in the cage! now!” voight shouted, jay wiped his eyes again trying to conceal the pain that consumed his body.

“stay with y/n. anything you need we’re here?” voight stated, voight was never the best person with comfort but he would protect and do anything for the people he cared about. jay muttered a thank you before ending the call and turning back towards his brother.

“can i see her?” will nodded and lead jay up to your room in the icu, jays heart was pounding as he approached the room glancing inside he saw your limp body attached to machines looking over at connor as if asking for approval to go inside connor nodded and jay entered the room.

the sight of you hurt his heart as he walked up to sit in the chair next to your bed, sitting down he slowly put his hand in yours careful not to hurt you before pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. no one would every understand how much jay had cried that day. he didn’t even understand himself. he looked at your bruised face thinking about how he was supposed to break the news to you that you were pregnant, and that you both lost the baby. tears slipped from his cheeks the pain in his chest worse then any physical pain he had ever been through. 

he wanted to go back, go back to before it was too late. back to the scene you were taken from, he would do anything to trade places with you. to be the one in that hospital bed instead of you. he held your hand tightly as he tried to keep himself together but he couldn’t. he tried thinking how he was going to tell the love of his life that you’d lost your baby.

so consumed by his thoughts jay lost track of time, he wanted to be clear headed when you woke up he wanted to look put together and okay so you didn’t have to see him upset but that didn’t happen. so consumed by his own thoughts the only thing that brought him back was you squeezing his hand.. the shock that ran through his body was uncanny as he looked up at your open eyes he felt himself let out a breath of relief he didn’t even know he was holding in. wiping his eyes he looked up at you with a smile.

“how are you feeling?” he asked standing up and sitting on the side of your bed, you felt like you’d been hit by a truck, but you were alive. you couldn’t believe you were alive. you almost thought it was a dream. looking at jay you noticed his red rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks, surely that wasn’t just about you..

“i’m fine” you nodded looking up at jay, he looked worked up enough you didn’t want to worry with him with any extra pain you were in, it was manageable anyway. he gave you a look of disapproval knowing you were lying.

“i’m still alive so i’m good babe. are you okay?” he took a deep breath stood next to you and you were a pro at reading body language. jay was distraught, you’d never seen him so upset. you carefully moved over in the bed wincing in the process.

“woah what are you doing?” jay tried stopping you moving scared you were going to hurt yourself, he couldn’t handle anything else happening to you. he couldn’t do it especially not today.

“making room for you” you patted the extra space you’d just made on the hospital bed for jay to lay next to you, he shook his head terrified of hurting you. he hated this, he felt so weak, he never wanted you to see him like this. he was supposed to be the man and stay composed to look after you. but you didn’t care, you loved him. showing emtion didn’t make anyone weak, you believed it made people stronger.

jay sighed sitting next to you in the bed and putting his arm around you, he closed his eyes trying to figure out how to tell you about the baby, he pressed a kiss to your bruised forehead before taking a deep breath. you knew something was up.

“jay what’s wrong?” you asked and he looked at you sadness caught in his eyes made you grab his his hand with both of yours in a comforting way, rubbing the back of his hand with the pad of your thumb.

“you were pregnant, 8 weeks.” your eyes widened in shock, in disbelief you shook your head. there was no way. you and jay always used protection, maybe once or twice you forgot.. there was no way.

“no.. no jay you’re wrong, we- we are safe” you shook your head tears welling up in your eyes and he nodded pulling you closer to him careful not to hurt you.

“i’m so sorry baby. i’m so sorry i wasn’t there” you shook your head holding his hand tightly, his guilt had doubled since finding out about the baby.

“jay it’s not your fault.. did you at least get dale?” you asked, you didn’t know how to feel. everything was a blur, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it was true. but the look on jays face you knew it was.

“yeah we got him. hank knows he’s got him in the cage.” jay nodded unsure of what was left to say about the baby, people dealt with grief differently and he didn’t know how you would react let alone deal with it. but he knew he’d be there for you when you accepted it. nothing felt real to you in that moment whereas jay, he felt too aware. too aware of everything.

you nodded a blank look on your face as you tried to process everything that happened along with what jay had told you. you couldn’t believe it, it didn’t feel real it wasn’t real. you didn’t know how to feel what to feel, you just had a dull pain in your heart as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“i love you. i love you so much.” jay whispered causing you to look up at up at him and shake your head, you loved him so much and he finally said it back, despite your pain you hugged him wincing in the process, he hugged you back needing to finally get the proof he needed that you were alive and he didn’t loose you.

“i love you too” you pulled away from the hug the pain and discomfort just a bit too much, looking up at jay you thought about what could’ve been. a baby, with his beautiful eyes, the freckles you love so much. the thought made you feel as if your future was ripped from you.

now what was left was two broken souls scarred with wounds from their demons playing a game of love, hoping that together they would get through this. and if they could they would be able to get through anything.

**

guys it’s up to you now, do you want a part 6?!? and let me know what you think of this? i’m not sure if i ruined it out not..

taglist:

@wanniiieeee

@zephyrmonkey

@lanea-1

@fullmoon-94

@mrspeacem1nusone

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Well. I guess today is the day I post this.

Putting this all below a cut to spare your dashes.

This statement will seem dramatic. I apologize. I don't know any other way to put this.

For a long time, I've felt unsafe in this fandom as a bisexual person.

At some point we got a new wave of people in this fandom (I can't pinpoint when since I never know anything that goes on in this godforsaken cesspit), and we started to get a growing wave of people talking about Eddie as a gay man, rather than bisexual or queer or ambiguous/unlabeled in his sexuality.

It was something I could easily ignore at first. I didn't agree with it, but I rolled my eyes and kept on keepin' on. It didn't really affect me. I had my own little corner and that was that.

But as time has gone on, it's become so popular and pervasive that every time I turn around, I'm running into it. It seems to be (but might not be, I could be wrong) the more popular interpretation of Eddie.

For example, I got an ask at the beginning of February, asking me what was wrong with gay Eddie, since it seems to be the "general consensus." Additionally, there was a podcast episode an anthropology student made where the host said that they have also seen people have generally decided Eddie is gay, not bi or queer. I'm not the only one who's noticed this and decided this is the general/most popular opinion of the fandom.

And I'm here to say that it's unbelievably hurtful.

It's not a new thing for people to dismiss Shannon. And let me tell you, it brings me no joy to defend her. I deeply, deeply dislike her and always have. But I must, because whether I like her or not doesn't matter as much as her importance to Eddie and her role in his life. Not just as Christopher's mother, but as his first love and as his wife.

However, over the past year or so there's been a serious shift within the fandom to ignore or gloss over Shannon, and to paint Eddie as a gay man who has always been gay, and never been attracted to women, and never wanted to sleep with one. Even though, canonically, he and Shannon jumped right back into bed together and wouldn't stop fucking every time they met up, despite that choice being detrimental to their relationship and preventing them from discussing important things.

Eddie was so busy fucking his wife like a rabbit in springtime that he couldn't settle down and talk with her. He fucked her repeatedly even though he didn't fully trust her with their son anymore. If that's not thinking with your dick I don't know what is.

Eddie's grief over Shannon's loss and his complicated feelings about her (his love for her vs his anger at her choices vs his own poor self-esteem) haunted him throughout season three. It's why he joined the fight club. It haunts him in season four, when he chooses to date Ana to give Chris a substitute mother even though he is not yet ready to date/move on from Shannon.

Even if I put on my Buddie shipper goggles and say, "what about Buck?" I do not think it makes any sense whatsoever for Eddie to be aware of his feelings for Buck pre-shooting. I think that is the moment he realizes what his heart wants and where he's chosen to love again. Not before.

Bobby moving on with Athena does in no way erase his love for his previous wife, and he went through a process similar to Eddie - in fact that similarity is part of why Bobby sees so much of himself in Eddie and why he tries to give Eddie advice on the subject. But I have to wonder, if Bobby had dated Michael instead of Athena, if the fandom would react the same way they do with Eddie - if they would claim Bobby was gay the whole time, and never truly felt sexual attraction for his wife.

I know Shannon is a disliked character by and large (I'm one of the people who dislikes her) and that her relationship with Eddie was complicated. Eddie wasn't always happy in his relationship with her. But neither was Athena, and yet the fact she was once attracted to and in love with Michael is never questioned.

Eddie is simply not allowed nuance in his relationship with Shannon. He is not allowed (as Bobby and Athena are) to have a complicated relationship with his spouse or to move on with another character while not denying his previous attraction to her. Eddie's relationship with Shannon is reduced to something he did because he had to, without any genuine sexual attraction, and without any sexual enjoyment. He is allowed to love her, but to never have been in love with her.

Eddie's biggest arc and piece of character development for two whole seasons (seasons two and three, arguably parts of season four) are erased.

The underlying message, whether intended or not, is that they are erased because they do not matter. And they do not matter because if they did, Eddie would be bi, or queer, or anything except 100% homosexual. And that means that the underlying message is that being gay is more important, more valid, and better than bisexuality.

I'm not saying this message is intentional. Frankly I don't think it is. I'm saying it is there.

And of course, when others have pointed out that this is hurtful and erases a big part of Eddie's history, and that therefore makes them feel ignored and erased as a bisexual person, there's been hostility. Some of it's been openly hostile and frankly feels like fighting for the sake of fighting, the kind of self-righteous love of blood in the water that has kept me a lurker in fandoms for so long.

The more insidious hurt, for me, is the people who refuse to publicly support people who call out the biphobia. They say nothing when people talk about how they're attacked for pointing out the issues with gay!Eddie, or they support both gay!Eddie and bi!Eddie sides, depending on the time of day and who's saying it. It makes me distrusting of a lot of people who try to tell me they support me. How can I believe you when you turn around and agree with the people saying Eddie's gay? Reblogging posts and championing it?

At best it feels like being accidentally hurtful while supporting/being open to multiple headcanons. At worst it feels like lying to placate me.

I don't appreciate being placated.

Fandom can give a skewed perspective on things such as representation in media. I understand that many people who identify as 6 on the Kinsey Scale have struggled deeply with repression, self-loathing, ignorance, and compulsive heterosexuality. I understand wanting that representation, especially in an older character when it feels like a lot of our media is still about queer teenagers rather than queer adults (especially queer adults over the age of thirty). And so with many slash ships having to deal with the existence of opposite-sex love interests in the characters comprising that ship, bisexuality can feel like the norm when in reality, characters who are gay (whether they always knew it or discover it later) are still much more prevalent than bisexual characters in media.

For example, in Our Flag Means Death we have Stede. In IT, Richie is inferred to be gay rather than bi (god forbid they confirm Eddie K's gayness but that's another matter...) In fact, in 9-1-1 alone, we have Michael. There's also the matter of who gets to be gay and who gets to be bi. In Glee, for example, Santana is the one who gets the nuanced coming-out story with drama and depth. Brittany, her bisexual girlfriend, doesn't get nearly as much attention or thought, and off-screen cheats on Santana in a staggering moment of biphobia (a decision the likes of which Ryan Murphy is not-so-affectionately known for).

Yet from people who headcanon Eddie as gay I repeatedly see the rallying cry of "letting us have this," as if 'this' is something they never get, or get less than bisexual people. Again, I understand the way fandom might skew things. But we cannot allow the broken goggles of fandom to, in turn, blinker our reality of the media landscape. Bisexuality is still less represented, and the wounds of "oh being with X man is nothing like all those women I was with, this is special and real" are still fresh (looking at you, Destiel shippers circa 2009-2012).

In fact as I out myself here as uh one of those veterans, I implore people to understand how this was the norm for so, so many years. Fandom has a short memory, I get it. It's hard to keep track of everything. But this embrace of bisexuality is rather recent. You look around and you see, for example, people happily joking about Dean Winchester's bisexuality. That was not always the case. For a long time, it was about perpetuating biphobia and casual misogyny as shippers wrote meta and fic about how no woman could ever make him feel like Cas does.

*pause for war flashbacks*

This was not the only instance or fandom. But I don't have time to name all the examples. My point is that there is a false collective narrative. My point is that when you are hurt, and have struggled, it can be hard to see that others have also been hurt and have also struggled. My point is that there is a continued instinct to put a certain type of character in one box and another type of character in a different box, and to try and expand the boxes, or move one character to another, is treated as a personal attack rather than an expansion of our understanding and a dismantling of our stereotypes.

Why is it always the character who has a lot of sex and/or is super comfortable on the subject of sex, or is very casual about sex, who gets to be bi/pan/fluid in sexuality? Why are bi people never allowed to be reserved, or have only one or two partners in their life?

Why is the character who is casual (or seems like they will be casual) and relaxed about sexuality the one who is labeled bisexual? Why are bisexuals never allowed to have angst around their sexuality or come out later in life? Why is our pain, our internal struggle, never allowed to be discussed?

I'm not saying Buck should be viewed as gay. I think it's correct to talk about him as bi/pan/queer. But I do think it's fair to examine why Buck's relationship with Abby is viewed in its proper important context while Eddie's relationship with Shannon is diminished and ignored.

Buck gets to talk about Abby. He gets to have genuinely been in love with her. He gets to retain that piece of his character. Eddie does not. Eddie's relationship with Shannon ended up hurting him just as much as Buck's relationship with Abby, in fact even more so, and yet people handwave that away as compulsive heterosexuality (which is not restricted to gay people, by the way, bi people experience that as well) and act like he didn't actually fall in love with her and have repeated enthusiastic sex with her.

People love to tout Ana as proof that Eddie is gay, but it doesn't matter what your sexuality is - if you aren't attracted to someone and you don't want them touching you, then you don't want them touching you. If you don't want to have sex with someone, you don't want to have sex with someone. Your sexuality doesn't matter. Just because a man is straight doesn't mean he wants to have sex with all women. Just because a man is gay doesn't mean he wants to have sex with all men. Just because a person is bi doesn't mean they want to have sex with everyone on the planet. And just because someone is asexual doesn't mean they have no libido or would never have sex at all for another reason (intimacy, fun, etc.). Sexual desire and drive are a very personal things, and both romantic and sexual attraction can play various roles or no role at all depending on the individual.

Eddie’s refusal to sleep with Ana or touch her is not a sign of him being gay as opposed to bi or queer or any other sexuality. It’s not a sign of any sexuality at all. It’s a sign that he was forcing himself into that relationship. He didn't want to be with Ana. He didn't love Ana. He didn't want to have sex with Ana.

Now, do I think how he broke up with her - his words about "the idea of us" - is insanely queer? Yes. Yes I do. And yes, for the record, I think that was deliberate on the part of the writers. But that simply says to me that he's queer. Not gay, not bi, not pan, not demi, not anything other than not straight.

To take that speech and those words and to say they could only possibly apply to a fully 100% gay man as opposed to anyone under the queer umbrella is hurtful. People's experiences as gay people are valid, and often, sadly, painful and just like Eddie's. But so are people's experiences as bi people, as pan people, as unlabeled people, as 'queer as in fuck you' people.

To wit: People ignore canonical evidence about Shannon, and claim canonical evidence about Ana as their own and no one else's, in order to support their interpretation of Eddie's sexuality.

That erases the rest of us.

I know that's hard to hear. I know that sounds like it comes with judgment. You are trying to speak your own truth, and you are identifying strongly with a character that you love, and it's hard to then hear that in doing those things, you are hurting or erasing others. I've had to hear that in my time, and I'm sure I'll have to hear it again, and it's never easy. But we must sit with this discomfort as our friend, not our foe, and use it to grow.

However, since fandom is our safe space, we often view anything and everything as a personal attack, and we often make judgments and interpretations based too strongly on our own experiences. Sometimes this is a good thing - I think the number of people who say Buck reminds them of their own ADHD are correct and that it adds great depth to his character. I'm glad Oliver has embraced it. I think the people who say Eddie speaks to their own demisexuality have a great point and I think it adds nuance to his character and behavior.

(In fact I also love trans!Buck headcanons! I think they're neat and I've read some fics I enjoyed that featured that.)

On the other hand, however, it often leads to people adding interpretations onto things that do not reflect canon or the actual character. They then view others pointing out the lack of support for this in canon, or the contradiction with canon, as a personal attack (looking at you, "Chim is abusive" people, go jump in a lake). It's hard to take that breath and recognize that not everything a character is or does or experiences is the same as what you are, or do, or have experienced. Especially when it touches on something as personal and important as our sexuality.

Because of this, I debated a long time on whether I should say something. I tried to identify the difference between what hurt me because it didn't line up with my thoughts and what hurt me because of actual stereotyping. I worked to make sure that this was more than simply taking an innocuous difference of opinion and twisting it into a personal attack.

Which brings me to why I say the word 'unsafe'. That seems like an extreme word. But I've seen people say that they "got a brain" and realized Eddie was gay, not bi. I've seen people take gifsets that mention Eddie being bi and tag them 'okay but I believe in gay!Eddie' or 'I'm a gay!Eddie truther'. I've seen people go out of their way in fics to mention Eddie disliking/being grossed out by female genitalia. I've seen fanartists put Eddie in gay colors/flags as opposed to bi/demi/etc colors/flags, on art that really didn't need it to convey the story - as if one cannot make a piece of art with Eddie on it without declaring one's opinion on his sexuality.

(Yes, I think there's a strong possibility that Eddie is demisexual. I wish people would embrace that idea more. Personally, I think he wouldn't label himself at all and simply say he was queer if asked. But given the discussion we're having right now on this post about gay/bi headcanons, I think it's clear a lot of people actually aren't as ready to embrace or consider minority sexualities as they might like to think.)

I repeat: this is not just happening on a person's own art or post or fanfic. People are reblogging posts, gifsets, and so on that mention bisexual Eddie and saying, okay but I see him as gay. They are not content to live and let live. They are actively saying they disagree. If you disagree, then why reblog the thing that talks about/mentions Eddie as bi? Why not simply leave it be?

I cannot overstate how hurtful this is; how much it feels like erasure, dismissal, and condescension.

You cannot tell me if that was something you saw about your gender, or sexuality, or so on, that you wouldn't begin to feel unsafe. That you wouldn't begin to question if you would be unheard, or dismissed, or viewed as less-than. Tell me you wouldn't start to wonder, if you were a character on a TV show, if people wouldn't erase your sexual and romantic history and ignore a big piece of yourself because certain sexualities just weren't good enough for them.

You cannot tell me that in seeing these things you wouldn't walk away with the idea that bisexuality (or other sexualities in general but bisexuality is the one brought up and to which being gay is compared in regards to Eddie) is viewed as lesser to these people, and to the community at large. You cannot tell me that some people are not internalizing this narrative, no matter what their own sexuality might be.

And, yes, reading that earlier paragraph you might say, "Mads, are you vagueing?" That is not my intention. I want to head off at the pass the rebuttal that this isn't happening. I want to cut off the demand for examples. However, I'm also not going to name names, because I don't wish to cause harm to people who I think, by and large, are well-meaning.

That's what I'm hoping is true, in writing this. That most of the people reading this, and pushing the Eddie-is-gay narrative, are well-meaning. "I'm bi myself!" many of you will say.

Yes, well. I'm a woman and I was perfectly capable of a lot of misogynistic thinking growing up, and I often fell into sexist stereotypes in my headcanons and writing and so on.

But I hope, since most of you are well-meaning, this post will instead cause you to think, and examine, and ponder.

I'm sure many people reading this are rolling their eyes and thinking, "what about the first rule of fandom? Ship and let ship? Kink tomato? Etc? Let people have different headcanons." I've certainly seen such flippant remarks from people before on this very subject in this fandom.

And the thing is, I have really tried to do that. I have tried to take it that way. But I think that it's also entirely fair for me to be hurt when a person's headcanon/interpretation ignores canon and erases a big part of a character's life and history.

I know, I know, we could get into a big philosophical discussion about how slash and femslash shipping by nature does something along those lines. But I feel that in the now-common interpretation of Eddie as gay, there is a pushing of stereotypes about both gay and bisexual people. There is a splitting of hairs on queerness. There is a subtext, whether acknowledged or not by those who push this interpretation, that being gay as opposed to a more fluid sexuality is more painful, more fraught, more challenging. That bisexuality, pansexuality, queerness as an umbrella term - those are less fraught and inherently easier. It's one of the pillars upon which exclusion in the queer community is based.

It also, generally, ignores the idea that one's sexuality can change over time. Maybe I'm wrong and maybe most people with the interpretation of Eddie as gay actually view him as being gay now and that's how he identifies now without erasing his canonical (and important) sexual and romantic attraction to Shannon. But that doesn't seem to be the case, and I certainly don't want to risk myself emotionally by trying to find out.

Not to mention that hey, when people are saying something is hurtful to them, seeing people make posts hand-waving and saying "get over yourselves, relax, take a chill pill" feels beyond condescending and dismissive.

I'd like to make it clear, I'm not asking for people to never write Eddie as gay, and that we should never see Eddie as gay again in this fandom, or that anyone who writes Eddie as gay should be dogpiled. I'm not the boss of anyone, I'm not the fandom police, I don't make the rules. But I think, when a certain behavior brings people pain - and more people than just myself, as I have learned in many private conversations - there comes a time when the least one can do is speak up about it.

Sometimes someone needs to be the one to stand up and say, "this hurts me. I am in pain, and this is why."

Again, especially when people are going out of their way to say "but I disagree, he's gay" on posts, gifsets, and so on mentioning Eddie having a different sexuality. You might feel this post is unnecessary. You might feel it's preachy. You might feel I should shut up and get off my high horse.

But the fact of the matter is when you come into someone's house tracking mud and they tell you to clean it up, you don't get to yell at them and claim they are trying to stop you from playing outside.

I kept my silence on this for a long time and part of that was I didn't want to police anyone. Now, however, we are at a point where people who think Eddie is gay are invading other people's spaces. It's not just that this headcanon is everywhere. It's not just that people are using such dismissive language when the possibility of Eddie liking women comes up. It is also that people are going out of their way to dismiss Eddie's bisexuality and argue that their interpretation is better on posts about Eddie being bi.

So frankly, I don't think anyone gets to walk away from this scoffing "don't like don't read" at me when nobody else around here is offering me that courtesy. If I could avoid reading it, I would. You came into my house, and the house of everyone else who makes a post, a fic, a gif, about Eddie being anything except a Kinsey 6.

Yes, reblogs are turned off for this. Anon is also turned off. You might say that's cutting off discussion, and you would be right. The blunt truth is I don't trust people online to respond with thoughtfulness, good faith, and care. I don't trust people to take their time and think before shooting off an emotional, defensive response. And I don't care to spend my time and energy educating people.

Maybe if I was a better person - a more social, more patient, and less private person - I would be the kind of person who would have the long hard discussions to educate and share my thoughts, to help you see my side. But that's not who I am, and I certainly don't owe it to anyone, not a single person here, to scrounge up my nonexistent trust and goodwill to have that discussion with you.

I've said my piece on this. I'm sure my tone seems harsh. The tone with which this is actually written is weariness, exhaustion, and, yes, nausea. It makes one sick and wears one down, to feel so on edge in a space and yet to try and ignore that to find joy anyway. Because I get a lot of joy in sharing my fics, and reblogging gifsets and meta, and I don't want to lose that joy.

But I suppose it needs to be said. I know others have said it, but I hope that I have said all this with enough calm and articulation that it will truly be understood, and it will not start drama or discourse, because that's not what I want. Truly. I spent enough of 2020 being dragged into one piece of bullshit drama after another. I'm not interested in wading back into that. I've kept pretty extreme radio silence for a reason.

My hope is simply for people to step back and take a long hard look at why they've decided one half of our ship is gay, and one half is bi, and what that might say about their subconscious stereotypes about gay and bi people.

If I've gotten you to do that, then this post is worth it.

I'm sorry I don't have any answers. I'm sure this would be a lot easier for people to read if I ended it with "and here's what to do moving forward." I think the desire to provide answers - for themselves and for others - is what drives people to make posts that condemn, or get aggressive, or seem to simply be out there to shut people up. People want to have a solution. They want the problem to go away.

I don't have a solution. I don't have answers for anyone. I truly wish I did. Part of why I've waited so long in posting this is trying to come up with a way to end this that would give people actionable steps. But at the end of the day, all I can really say is that I hope the people reading this will do some internal searching, and thoughtful discussion, and understand better the subconscious choices we make, the biases we hold, and how we can hurt people without meaning to.

I don't want apologies. I say that with love - I'm not looking for people to self-flagellate before me or make some kind of mea culpa post. I don't think that would help anything, and I don't think anyone owes that to me. Frankly I'm not interested in public discussion, and if there are posts others make about this, I don't want to see them.

You can make posts on your blog ranting about me (just please don't tag me, again, I don't want to see it). You can discuss this in your discord groups. You can vagueblog about me and chat about me in DMs. I don't care. I'd just like people to hear me say, "I am hurt, and you are hurting me, and I know it's not intentional, but this is why." Anything else is up to you. Any changes, in thought or behavior, are up to you. Probably nothing will change. But at least I've said something, and I've tried.

Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you have a great day. Stay safe and take care of yourself.

[vaguely-concerned]

...this is fully just a Vibe based observation, but sometimes NtN!John talks about M-- and A-- almost as if they were his parents fhdkjsahkjfas. it's mixed up with a lot of other stuff of course, but sometimes, especially when the two of them join forces, there's a sense of 'wow when mum and dad get along anything is suddenly possible' beneath it. I'm not sure it's an aspect John necessarily wants to admit to himself, but now that I've put it into words I think there's something to it, and it's an extension of something I was trying to get a handle on even back in HtN. the thing he says to augustine when asking him to come back to him at the end of HtN has always been really striking to me:

“Come, swear your loyalty, my son—my brother—beloved—Lyctor—saint.”

it speaks both to this insidious lack of boundaries and centering relationships entirely around himself -- 'you can only be something or someone in relationship to me: my child, my brother, beloved by me, my hand and my gesture in the world' -- and to how he's tried to make mercy and augustine* (freshly reduced to only augustine in that moment rip :'( ) his everything-in-one persons. they're his children, his siblings, his best friends, his spouses, his lovers, his generals, his disciples, his saints, his parents (less so after the resurrection, but there are still hints of it to my mind -- he really wants those two to get along and be a stable functioning unit again for the sake of his own emotional stability huh lmao, and to add spice he seems genuinely hurt at the thought that they've just been pretending to dislike each other while he was there and felt differently when they were alone together without him, at a point where that truly is the very least of his problems, it's weird and tangled stuff), his companions and caretakers, his dependents (they were so fucking scared), coworkers and subordinates, his enforcers -- all at once and all according to what he needs from them at any given moment.

*g1deon is different, because his use for him is more straightforwardly 1) as a weapon and attack dog and 2) when he needs someone, a buddy, to think he's fine. not necessarily right, but fine. the more things change ig haha

pretty much the only thing they aren't to him are cavaliers because, as augustine observes to mercy, he doesn't want nor need a replacement for alecto. he understands just enough about love and loneliness to not literally consume them completely into himself, and I don't think that's quite what he needs from them anyway, but god, he's done everything short of that in the name of tying them to him. (which i think is a theme mirrored in ianthe's relationship to corona, incidentally! for all of her 'real love is acquisitive' mindset, ianthe does realize that subsuming corona completely into herself is not going to be a satisfactory solution to their... whole deal. despite the way they're so deeply enmeshed, there needs to be a sliver of Other left in the mix to experience relationship instead of just uh. devouring yourself by your own tail, attachment wise, or the unending solitude of grief of the 'regular' flawed lyctorhood.) and part of how he did it is by setting everything up to make them complicit in the same sin he committed -- binding them all inseparably together politically/structurally, cosmically/metaphysically, spiritually, emotionally, morally, in common yet isolated eternal grief. you can't leave me, you're the same kind of bad as me. it's the same blood on all our hands now. a piece of me in you, a piece of you in me (but only to the extent it's convenient to me let's be sensible about this guys I am god after all I've got a lot on my plate right now). he made them kill and eat everything else they loved so only he was left, and they share in his guilt over the system of empire they created and perpetuated.

both mercy and augustine have, though the myriad, found ways to defend themselves against this obliterating kind of love john extends to them -- mercy by making herself unlovable, augustine by making himself untouchable. (Nothing could ever really touch Augustine vs. John's repeated statement of having to make his loved ones something he could touch -- many thoughts.) most importantly they had each other, as loathsome as I'm sure that fact was to both of them hahaha <3 this thing of 'when augustine and mercy agree on anything, you know shit's getting real' that turned out to be the one thing they could hold on to in this lifetime too.

and i think this whole glorious clusterfuck's role in the narrative ultimately is to shine a light on how harrow and gideon grew up together having to be everything to each other (under the cut because god this got long why am I like this):

Tiny Harrow had found [Gideon] an object of tormentable fascination—prey, rival, and audience all wrapped up in one. And though Gideon hated the cloisterites, and hated the Locked Tomb, and hated the ghastly great-aunts, and hated Crux most of all, she was hungry for the Reverend Daughter’s preoccupation. They were the only two children in a House that was otherwise busy getting gangrene.

and provide an example of the long-term toxicity of a similar interpersonal dynamic. Harrow and Gideon ended up like that through no fault of their own; they didn't choose it, it was a tragedy they were innocently born into and then they acted out love and connection as best they could with what they'd been given, as brutal as their best was. but john is the deliberate architect of his own situation! he meant for this to happen, he decided this was an acceptable outcome long ago! the first house also has gangrene, but it's because john deliberately and methodically has been chopping all its limbs off over the myriad to feed it to the ghosts of his sin and done nothing in particular to treat the wounds!!! even mercy is deemed unnecessary in the end, once she's become more emotionally uncomfortable to deal with than useful to him, emotionally and otherwise. (and augustine realizes that's exactly how john thinks and how he ultimately views them! imagine having that knowledge hanging over you for thousands of years without being able to get out!)

john has been alive for ten thousand years, and for those ten thousand years he has kept the same three people around as his core family. (even from john himself we hear very little about any of his biological family apart from a few mentions of his grandmother, which seems... telling.) he's still playing house with them in harrow the ninth, hugs and family dinner and yes, love, but an infinitely haunted love. (also oh my god were harrow and ianthe basically the saving the marriage babies of lyctorhood, 'here have some new sisters they're just as good as the old ones probably cheer up' dhfsjdfa I've never thought about it like that before but there might be something there.) all three of the people he loves the most were intimately involved (ahahaha oh I do amuse myself at least) in a plot to murder him -- not because they didn't still love him in some twisted hopeless way, I don't think, just to get the horror to finally end.

he asks Harrow, seemingly rhetorically at the time: Why would you let someone go -- away from you -- untouchable -- two people? I couldn't... I loved them too much. if he'd paid any attention at all, he'd already know her answer: to keep myself from consuming her completely. so I wouldn't destroy her. he took their memories so they wouldn't leave him or stop loving him, while harrow gave up her own memories of love and grace rather than destroy gideon's soul, rather than continue to exist escalatingly at gideon's expense, as she has always been set up to systemically. (which is not like. a great long-term solution to the central problem of personhood/individuation vs. connection and love here or anything -- obliterating yourself in the name of love is no more sustainable or moral than destroying the other -- but it IS a statement of priorities haha.) do you think john would ever have taken that deal? he's tried to keep his loved ones exactly the same, keep them his and with him, for ten thousand years, and hasn't realized they've been slowly drifting away from him all that time -- that even if they had wanted to stay with him despite it all, with the way he has set it all up there is no choice anymore, it has destroyed them. it's the saddest fucking thing because he loved them so much, they loved him so much, and yet... he made it into this horrific thing with his own hands because he has that insatiable hunger and he's still so afraid of change, as much when he's made himself God as he was as a child. nona the ninth being a story of found families that ultimately 'fail' and fall apart even though love was there, reflecting back on the themes of HtN and revealing new things there. thoughts. many thoughts. indeed, feelings. please bear with me, I'm still not sure I've managed to say exactly what I mean here especially in terms of john's motivations but this is the best I could do right now and my brain is fried so... here have the Psychosexual Clusterfuck Polycule Thoughts I managed to pin down for now

TL;DR: sometimes I wonder what the fuck john's primary attachment relationships as a child were like because frankly it sounds like something did Not go entirely right there lmao

[dangerpronebuddie]

Now that it's been pointed out to me, I can NOT stop thinking about it! It's a long ramble, so it's under the cut.

Eddie runs when things get tough.

Shannon got pregnant-> military

Shannon wants to move-> he shuts her out

Parents want to take Chris-> moves away

I am in no way blaming Shannon here, but I am saying that this is probably where most of this behavior was learned. It could even be from Ramon always being away, and being emotionally absent when he was present.

The thing is, when Eddie ran, no one stopped him. Shannon didn't put up a fight when he joined up. His parents let him walk away. When Buck wants to talk about the shooting and Eddie shuts down, Buck doesn't push.

So Eddie has learned he can get away with it. No one's going to push back, so why push at all?

I have noticed that he doesn't enter arguments unless provoked. When he comes home from Afghanistan, his parents and Shannon criticize every little thing. So he puts up his carefully crafted walls and shuts them out. He only starts the peacocking gym fight when Buck turns his aggression on Chimney.

Now the grocery store fight is a whole other ballgame. It's grief disguised as anger. I will admit, and I will die on this hill, that Eddie's "you're exhausting" comment was uncalled for and I would've burst into tears if someone said that to me. But that's what grief does to him. It's so overwhelming, and having grown up in a house where he had to be the man of the house as a child, showing no emotion, it's not surprising. If you're not angry when you're upset, you're not a man.

But I'm getting off track (as usual.)

My point is, no one's given him reason to keep fighting through the issue, so he simply walks away from it.

Which makes the cemetery scene even more incredible and interesting. Frank is my hero, honestly, and Eddie's growth has been amazing to watch. He's not running from Buck in the cemetery scene, he's offering Buck the chance to fight for them.

Instead of taking the lead, being in control, or walking away, he's giving the reigns to Buck. His last attempts at trying to get Buck to get over his near death experiences didn't work. He tried to get Buck out of his own head with the ladder truck, so he makes Buck go out into the world again. Only to be caught in a tsunami. He tries again (poorly) in the grocery store scene, asking him why he can't move on and suck it up. These attempts only made Buck internalize his emotions. Because that's all Eddie knew.

Thanks to Frank, Eddie's learning. So instead of inserting himself into Buck's issues and trying to make things right as fast as possible, he's actually allowing Buck "time to process" (seriously, how could Eddie possibly give such advice to others when he couldn't follow his own in s4?)

He lets Buck come to him in 6x12, and only asks how Buck's really doing after they talk. He's trying to follow Buck's lead for a change.

Same with the cemetery and "you don't have to be anything for anybody." Buck keeps looking to Eddie like Eddie's supposed to tell him what to do, but Eddie's learned that that doesn't work. Buck HAS to make decisions for himself or he's never going to grow. So, Eddie thinks that if Natalia is who Buck wants, then he won't stop him.

Now he did comment on how it was a bad idea for Buck to date people they've met on calls (kinda hypocritical dude!), but that's the only objection he's voiced.

Something else just popped into my head about how Eddie came to this conclusion. He saw Buck with Taylor and without her. Guess which version he preferred? Which version was happier?

That's because, when Buck breaks up with her, it's his decision. He chose to end things instead of waiting for "when the woman flees." Buck stumbles into relationships, and waits for shit to hit the fan. He doesn't put in the work either.

Buddie can either be really really good or really really bad with this. Eddie leaving the ball in Buck's court lets Buck make the decision to be with Eddie. He has to confess, because Eddie's resigned himself to pining forever. When Buck does, they can either have hundreds of problems, or learn to communicate and operate as a couple.

Forcing the decision into Buck's hands makes him choose for himself what he wants. Buck always has to be chosen, but Eddie's telling him he doesn't have to be. Eddie's always choosing, so giving Buck the lead is not only a huge display of trust, but it's a giant step forward in terms of how Eddie handles relationships.

Now, had Eddie not done this, this might've been a major issue for them. Buck would keep following Eddie's lead, not put in any effort, and Eddie would bail the moment they had even a small tiff.

But thanks to giving the decision to Buck, they have a better chance at a successful ship.

What needs to happen now is they need to address the things they haven't dared talk about. Namely the will, the shooting, and the lightning.

I know the show doesn't leave loose ends, and foreshadowing (especially when it comes to Eddie) can take several seasons to unfold. So, it's not improbable that the Will will be brought up again. I know they talked about Buck's death and the shooting, but not what it did to each other. And, I have a little theory about Eddie's comments about the shooting.

He remembers more. His body language in that scene absolutely says so. He barely looks at Buck, does a subtle head shake, and keeps his comments to a minimum. Because he needed to in that moment. Telling Buck everything he actually remembered wasn't what Buck needed. Buck needed the assurance that he was going to get better. That he'd actually process it. Eddie couldn't tell him the whole truth and expect Buck to feel fine about it.

Welp... this got way out of hand very quickly. Random thoughts while doing dishes will do that, I guess. I just think the cemetery scene has a lot more layers than I first noticed, and every time I think about these two, something new to analyze comes up.

[stormkobra-5]

Heya its me again um you can completely ignore this request if its too much but um

Can i request (only if you are able to) the moonknight boys helping y/n grieving over losing a family member

I lost a family member today and would like some comfort you can ignore this request if its too much

Sorrow and Solace

Pairing: Moon Boys x Reader

Fic Type: Drabble

Summary: When you lose a family member, the boys are there to offer you any comfort they possibly can.

A/N: I'm honored you came to me of all people, nonnie. I hope I can write something good enough for this situation and helps you, buddy. I'm so sorry for your loss. I wish you all the love and comfort in the world.

Rating/Warnings: Dealing losing a family member (unspecified), processing grief, hurt/comfort

It was Marc fronting when you got the call.

He walked into the kitchen to find you holding your phone in a daze, frozen as your mind tried to process what you'd just heard. It was painful, this searing, dull grief. It rose up in your chest unexpectedly, like it had been an animal lying in wait, and lunged for your heart, tearing with icy claws.

Marc noticed your stance immediately. "...Babe? Everything okay?"

You didn't respond immediately, still processing the information. The loss of a family member is a life-changing event, and it surged up out of nowhere. You stagger into Marc's touch when he tentatively reaches for you. "...Baby? You okay?"

You burst into soft sobs, falling into his chest. He held you tightly and close, prepared for some unseen threat. "Hey, hey... Sh, sh, sh..." Rocking you in his arms, he maneuvered you to the couch, bringing you up onto his lap and cradling you in a snug embrace. With a glare that could have killed, he eyed your phone, which was laying on the floor where you'd dropped it, as if it were an enemy.

"Oy, what's happening?" Steven roused himself in the headspace clumsily, tripping over Jake. Their alter cursed in Spanish, trying to wrestle Steven down in their roughhousing way of communicating-- honestly, they were like rowdy misbehaved toddlers, and that was the very last thing you needed right now.

"Guys," Marc said softly as he rubbed your back, trying to hide his irritation. Once they heard your quiet sobs into his shoulder, felt the tight grip of your fists in his shirt, they immediately sprung to their feet and raced to see what was wrong with you.

"You wanna tell us what happened, mi vida?" Jake whispered softly in your ear as he took control of the body, brushing strands of tear-dampened hair out of your face. He pressed soft and tender kisses to your jaw, your temple, your forehead, trying to coax you into telling them what was wrong.

"I-I... um..." You tried to wipe your tears away with a shaky hand. "I-I just got some bad news..."

The boys stiffened, starting to understand. "You wanna talk about it?" Marc offered gently.

A part of you, in your grief-stricken mind, was comforted. It was rare for the boys to co-front, stubborn as they were-- literally, it's-my-turn-with-the-body kind of arguments have occurred and now they stick to a strict fronting schedule-- so usually they now only co-fronted if something extremely dire was happening, and the fact that they considered your well-being in that category was flattering.

"I-I just... um..." You swallowed hard, trying to manage to speak through your sobs enough to translate the reason for your current state. "I just found out that I lost somebody... I just lost somebody in my family."

Steven was the one who fronted then, mouth forming an 'o' of realization. "Oh, love..." He pulled you in to his embrace, kissing the top of your head and cradling you close.

They didn't want to say it's okay. They know that right now, it's not, it's far from, and instead of trying to push your feelings away, they think that you should perhaps let them process. Maybe its okay isn't what you need to hear, but maybe just a shoulder to cry on until it is okay.

"We're here for you, darling," Steven said, kissing your head. "We're right here for you."

Jake fronted, grabbing you by your waist and lifting you up a bit so that he could look you in the eyes. "What do you need us to do, mi vida?"

"Just..." You sniffled, falling back into him. "Just hold me for a little while, okay?"

"We can do that," Jake assured you, rubbing up and down your back. "We're gonna help you through this, mi vida."

Marc switched to the front, readjusting your position so that you were kind of laying on him across the couch. "We're gonna be here for you every step of this process, baby."

"Whatever you need, we're here, dove," Steven added, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

And they held true to that. They made sure that you remembered to eat, but if you couldn't stomach it, they made you drink water-- you drank so much water, it probably more than made up for all the tears you were shedding. They made sure you slept, and they called your work to get you a week or two off to process things more clearly. They stood by your side at the funeral, offering condolences to family members and respect for who was lost.

Every night, or really, any time you cried, they held you in their arms and lulled you to sleep. Sometimes they would sing or read to you, or try to make you laugh. And the day you finally smiled again, you don't think you'd ever seen them beam brighter. "Life keeps going, love," Steven told you one day, "It might hurt sometimes, and it might be hard, especially losing someone; but it keeps going. It doesn't wait for us. We'll meet everyone we've lost again one day, don't you worry. In the meantime, though, we have to stop and smell the roses, so to speak. Smile. That’s what we’re put here to do, innit? To love and laugh?”

“I know,” You said as you held onto him as if for dear life, nestling your head in his sweater-clad chest. “Thank you, guys. For being here for me.”

“Always,” Marc answered into your hair. “Now and forever.”

“We’ll never let you go through anything alone, mi vida,” Jake promised, pulling a blanket up over your shoulders. “You’re never alone. Remember that.”

————————————————————————

I hope this has comforted you, nonnie. I hope you do okay, and just remember we’re all here for you.

[bippot]

Summary: Childhood friends have a habit of drifting apart. Usually, it's a natural thing. Usually, there's a slow detachment. Adrian never wanted to detach from his best friend. But he thought he had to.

Tags: Angst and Hurt, Comfort, Family Drama. Grief/Mourning, Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Smut

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

Chapter 1: For Now

Throughout her time at college, they kept in touch. Calling each other every day, writing each other facebook messages whenever possible, and texting each other when they got bored and needed some entertainment. They texted each other all the time. So much that Y/N's father actually told her off about her phone bill. She ignored him, however, and kept sending Adrian memes everyday because that was his favourite thing to do.

Whenever she came home for break, they would always meet at the end of the driveway, where they would hug each other and exchange silly stories about their time apart.

"Oh, hi Gut. Chris," she greeted as the two boys got into Gut's Sebring. The pair nodded at her, but no recognition passed across their faces.

"Oh shit! Is that Y/N?"

"Yeah, Chris."

"Holy shit! You have tits now! And they're great!"

Gut also gave her a look up and down, warning his buddy, "Hey, don't say that too loud. Adrian might go all psycho on you like he did to Frankie Oswald."

Chris scoffed, "As soon as thimble even steps towards me, I'll put my fist through his head."

Adrian didn't seem affected by that threat and insult as usual, but Y/N was. She shot a glare at Chris. "Come on, Ade," she cooed as she pulled him inside her house, closing the front door behind him. "Don't let him get to your head."

"Nothing is getting in this noggin."

"You said it, not me."

"Hey!"

In her third year, Adrian booked time off work to come and visit her in her third year. He hadn't told her. It was a surprise. A really nice surprise that he knew would make her happy. She'd sounded really stressed over the phone and he needed to cheer her up, that and he was really missing her lately.

Recently, he'd been trying to hang out with Gut and Chris more but they'd been more guarded than usual. Then there was this awesome new superhero named Peacemaker running around and Adrian desperately tried to interact with him too, but never seemed to get a chance to say anything more than "Hi" or "I like your helmet" before Peacemaker took off. He was feeling more lonely than ever.

But the surprise never happened. As he was checking all the stuff he'd packed into Gut's car (which he had actually asked to borrow, instead of just taking it like he usually did) for the trip in the parking lot of Fennel Fields, he got a call that would change everything.

"It can't be this bad," Adrian whispered to himself as he anxiously picked at the skin of his fingers. He had got a call from the police and was currently waiting for them to tell him what the hell was going on. Where was Gut? Why did he get called and not his parents? Where were his parents?

Yeah, it was that bad. All of his family gone in one day. And he was in shock, numb. Completely lost. All he knew was that something horrible had happened and most of the people who had raised him had disappeared in a matter of moments, leaving him behind. Alone.

As he made it home, he noticed lights on at Y/N's house and just had to try it. He had seen his front door and was unable to go anywhere near it. He knocked on her front door, which felt unusual as he normally just walked in or climbed in through her window.

Her family was the only ones he had left.

"Is Y/N back from college yet?" He asked her mother as she opened the door. "I really need someone to talk to."

Instantly, he was ushered inside, where he sat on his usual spot on her couch as Y/N's mother patiently waited for him to tell her what was wrong. When he finally spoke again, his voice lacked any discernible emotion or tone that her mom could hardly recognise him.

"They're gone," he stated, staring down at his hands. "All my family. Mom and Dad were in the front seats. Gut in the back. And bang......gone."

His words hung in the air for a moment, as the reality of his situation settled in. Y/N's mom looked at him. She couldn't speak. There was nothing to say. Nothing anybody could say. How was she supposed to comfort him? She couldn't do it physically since he didn't like being touched. And, she had no idea what to say.

What do you say to a young boy whose entire family was just brutally murdered?

For the life of her, Y/N's mother racked her brain for something to say or do. But the only sound that could be heard in her living room was the ticking of her clock, punctuated every so often with another tick.

Tick...tick...tick…. Tick…..tick….. Tick…tick…..tick…..tick…….

And then, he said something that broke her heart even more. Finally making eye contact, he admitted, "I tried walking through the front door, but I couldn't do it." Tears welled up in her eyes at how confused he seemed as he asked, "Why couldn't I do it?"

"Oh, honey..." she whispered, wiping the few tears that escaped her eyes and pulling him into a bone crushing hug. He didn't fight her. Didn't cry. Didn't protest at all. He just hugged her back. Hugged her back like he would hug Y/N or his mother, but they weren't there and he had nowhere else to go.

"Can I stay here tonight?" He finally asked after a long while had passed. "Please?"

Hell, she couldn't refuse him. Even if she wanted to, which she didn't, she couldn't and shouldn't refuse him. His home was cold and empty and he needed somewhere with people to look after him, so she said yes without question.

"Y/N won't mind if you use her bed."

"I've slept in it enough times," he joked, his voice monotone and lifeless, completely devoid of feeling.

Almost like a zombie, he slowly plodded up to Y/N's room, where he lay down and stared at the ceiling in complete silence, clutching one of her childhood teddy bears to his chest as his tears flowed from his eyes.

Y/N made sure to get the earliest plane she could. It was expensive, but Adrian needed her, so she didn't hesitate to pay for it. After getting home early in the morning, she immediately chucked her stuff down and rushed to her room to find him curled up in her bed, hugging her bear. He was fast asleep.

Without even thinking twice, Y/N carefully slipped under the covers next to him, careful not to wake him, and closed her arms around him tightly, resting her cheek against his curly hair. She smiled when Adrian instinctively buried his face deeper into the crook of her neck, snuggling closer to her.

For a few hours they both slept soundly, wrapped in each other, sharing the warmth of each other, both feeling safe in the other's arms. When Adrian woke up, he found himself lying half on top of Y/N, his head tucked underneath her chin and he couldn't figure out if she was real or not.

How the hell did she make it home so fast? He must still be dreaming.

So, as a precaution, he ran a finger across her cheekbone. That felt real. He ran his hand along her arm and breathed in the fresh scent of her shampoo. Orange. That was correct. It must have been a very vivid dream that his brain had concocted to help him process things.

She blinked groggily, opened her eyes and yawned sleepily as she glanced down at the sleeping boy in her arms, and gently brushed away a stray strand of his curly locks from his forehead.

"Are you really here?"

He hoped this was real. He needed it to be. She tightened her grip around him and brought him closer, placing a kiss on his forehead. Oh fuck, this was real. She had dropped everything and made it to him as fast as she could. He sighed in relief.

The tears came back faster this time and started streaming down his cheeks as the sobs racked their way through his throat. She kissed his head again, softly caressing his cheek before wrapping her other arm around him and holding him close, rocking him slightly.

"I've got you," she whispered softly into his ear, her lips grazing his skin. He whimpered quietly as he pressed himself even closer to her body, hiding his head in her neck once again and squeezing her tighter. "I'm not going anytime soon, so let it all out."

With that, her tears also fell and she held onto him, rocking him gently as he cried and cried until his whole body shook uncontrollably from his grief and exhaustion, clinging tightly to her like she was his lifeline.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how much later or for how long he continued to cry. Time seemed to stop for a while. Every part of him ached. Every tear and snot covered nose was disgusting and he hated it. Her shirt was now soaked with his face liquid, but thankfully she hadn't complained about it. She just softly cooed, "It's still quite early, why don't we go back to sleep, huh?"

"But I have work."

"Ade, no. Not today. They'll understand."

Not in the mood to argue, Adrian gave a weak nod of agreement and closed his eyes, allowing himself to sleep and forget about things for a few more hours.

Adrian kept his hand clutched in Y/N's for the next couple of days as he had to deal with all of the funeral shit. She could tell when it was all becoming too much for him and would brush her thumb against the back of his hand in an attempt to calm him down. It was a long and tiring wait, and they were both worn out by the time the funeral was set to take place.

"How the hell do you tie a tie?" Adrian huffed as he got sick of attempting to do it himself after he managed to tie a simple knot.

"Let me have a go at it," Y/N offered, taking the material and doing it correctly for him. She took some time making sure he looked presentable, brushing his hair out of his face for what might have been the hundredth time in an hour.

She pulled him towards the mirror and studied how they looked together. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and gave him a peck on the cheek. "For what it's worth, I think you look good in a suit," she complimented before she stepped aside and admired herself in the full length mirror opposite. "Do you think my dress is too short? I don't want to look like a whore."

"It's a funeral, Y/N, not a runway."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter. You look pretty and it's not as if my mother will be able to call you a slut anyway," he remarked as he turned around to face her and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her even closer to him. They stayed silent for a while, enjoying the closeness, before he spoke up once more. "We better go."

They left, walked side by side as they made their way inside, hands interlocked. As soon as they entered the reception area, the first thing Adrian noticed was that everyone was looking at them with strange looks on their faces. Pity. They pitied him and it made him uncomfortable. He didn't want anyone pitying him.

If anything, it made a bubbling fury rise up in him. But that didn't last long as Y/N placed her hand softly on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile. Then with that gentle touch, it all went away.

Through the entire ceremony and wake, Adrian never moved from beside Y/N, never letting go of her hand. He remained quiet the entire time, sitting next to her the whole time and refusing to acknowledge anyone or anything else. So, she took all the social interaction for him and handled it all gracefully as the other attendees mingled with them and exchanged pleasantries.

He was quieter than he'd ever been before. It was unsettling how little he said. Almost as if he'd lost any desire to talk and was trying to shut down the conversation completely and pretend it didn't exist. The thought scared her, because she knew he was trying hard to hide how devastated he was.

Weeks went by and he still couldn't step inside his house. He stayed with Y/N every night, cuddled up next to her, watching tv shows in his PJs and reading whatever essay she was trying to write. "You spelt that word wrong," he pointed out, poking his finger at her laptop screen. He was correct. She changed it immediately.

"Good catch," she said, and turned back to her laptop. "What would I do without you?"

"You seem to do fine without me at college."

Okay. That stung a little, but she didn't want a fight. He was fragile right now. She didn't need to push the issue. If she did, then they'd end up fighting over everything and she wouldn't be able to handle it. So instead, placed her laptop on her bedside table and focused only on him, running her fingers soothingly through his curly hair as he stared blankly at nothing in particular.

Well, he was staring at the ceiling. He always stared at her ceiling when he couldn't drift off and, after that first night, it was hard to sleep. Whoever built the houses on the street used the same layout for each. Her room was in the same place in the house as Gut's was. It was the same shape. Same size. Even the pattern on the ceiling was the same. It drove Adrian crazy.

Having noticed his little habit, Y/N gently guided his head onto his shoulder. His gaze finally drifted to meet hers. She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly. He returned her smile hesitantly. "Hey," she said softly. "I love you, you know." He nodded slowly, a small frown appearing between his brows as he looked away, pretending as though he didn't hear.

"Adrian, I mean it," she insisted, stroking his hair once more. "Look at me."

Slowly, he lifted his head, and met her eyes again. They were sad and tired, with puffy red rimmed under them from lack of sleep. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that frown away from his face and make him laugh again. She wished he could hear it again and again, until he forgot everything and just laughed.

"I love you."

"I know," he whispered, giving her a faint smile before pulling away from her and laying back on the pillow, turning his back to her. She bit her lip and looked down at her lap guiltily. There it was again. What she felt she couldn't put her finger on. A mixture of disappointment, sadness, and a tiny hint of something else which made her stomach churn in a strange manner.

Still, she held him close and ran her fingers through his hair, keeping him calm and comfortable. They eventually fell asleep, tangled up on the bed together, their heads touching, her legs intertwined with his, her arms around his waist.

It was after that that things started to get bad. The night when it happened, Adrian was sitting on the steps outside her front door, staring at the cobbles below his feet, not wanting to go anywhere. But, no. He had to go inside his house. There were some documents in there that he needed.

"You don't have to do this. I can go in and get it by myself. alone," Y/N tried to persuade him, placing her palm against his back and rubbing in comforting circles. His response was a deep sigh as he leaned his head back against her shoulder before standing up and straightening his posture.

"I can't be a pussy anymore," he muttered quietly, not meeting her gaze as he walked past, leaving a confused and concerned Y/N behind him. He moved to his front door, unlocking it and preparing himself to go inside.

But as he went to turn the handle, he looked back at her in apprehension. She was instantly by his side, her grip tight on his hand in a protective manner. He sighed in defeat since he couldn't just walk in on his own. He opened the door slowly and finally made it inside the place he once called home.

Everything looked exactly like he remembered. From the furniture, to the pictures on the wall, to the artwork on the shelves. Everything was as it should be. Nothing had changed. He felt like a complete and utter fool. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and moved forward, going into the living room where he sat down in one of the armchairs.

Despite it being identical, everything felt so foreign, so cold and unfeeling. He could barely believe he was here again.

All of the house was his, and only his. This was his house, and he could do whatever he wanted with it. If he wanted to turn his mother's craft room into a gym, he could. His father's tool shed could become an arsenal. Gut's car could become his stakeout vehicle. He had it all planned out.

The documents in question were found easily in a drawer, but he continued to make his way around his home. Room by room until they reached his bedroom. It was as he left it, just as he'd expected. The only thing that he could see that was different was a thin layer of dust throughout, but that was an easy fix.

Picking up one of his figurines, he lightly brushed the top of it to remove the dirt that had accumulated. It was one that she had bought him as a joke because they went as Hercules and Megara for Halloween as children. It looked a little funny on his shelf since there was a bunch of cool, badass looking minis from his DnD games, and then a brightly coloured figure of the Disney hero.

Hercules. Big. Strong. Demigod. Well, he couldn't become the child of a god, but he could be a superhero, or just a hero because, shit, as much as he wanted them, he didn't have any superpowers. Yet, Hercules' weakness was Megara.

Y/N was his Megara.

"Hey, when are you going back to Chicago?" He asked, not tearing his gaze away from the lifeless ones of the figurine before him. His voice sounded hoarse and hollow as if it wasn't him speaking at all.

"I don't know. It depends."

"On?"

"You."

No. Adrian didn't want to be the reason why she put her life on hold. This was his problem to deal with, and she shouldn't have to mess up her education because of his issues.

"Maybe you should stay there," He suggested, turning his head to glance at her briefly before returning to his figure. He hated the look she gave him; it made his chest tighten painfully. It hurt to watch the heartbreak reflected in her eyes. "Leave me behind like you always do."

Owch. She shook her head, biting her lip in frustration. He hadn't meant to sound so bitter. Yet, she carefully responded, "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. You're... not yourself these days."

"I'm okay." He hated that he was lying to her. He hated it even more when she saw straight through him. But what choice did he have? For her sake, he needed her to move on from him. He was just dragging her down. "I can manage without you."

Her eyes widened in surprise. How dare he say such a thing after everything they've been through together? She wanted to slap that stupid, fake smile off his face. How dare he think he wasn't worth anything to her. Not after all they've gone through together. She wasn't going to let him push her away now that he needed her.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

Without warning, she leaned against him heavily as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He tensed at first, shocked by the sudden contact, but relaxed soon enough. It was familiar and comforting and the fact that she seemed so eager to be near him, made a warmth grow within him. He placed a hand on her back, squeezing it gently before resting his cheek against her hair.

"Please. I love you, Adrian." She murmured, her voice filled with sadness and desperation.

A sudden surge of anger erupted inside of him, burning his insides with fury. He wanted to scream, punch the wall, kick something, but he didn't do any of those things. He shook her off and calmly placed his figurine back in its proper place.

"Stop saying that." He spoke sharply. She flinched, backing away from him in confusion. He questioned with a scoff. "You don't love me. You just feel bad for me. That's all anyone ever does."

Y/N blinked, taking a step back as shock settled into her features. Was he serious? After all these years, he still believed that what she felt for him was pity? That everyone who cared for him, cared for him because they felt sorry for him?

That wasn't how love worked. He loved her. No matter what. She knew it. And he knew that she knew.

"Don't you love me, Adrian?"

"What difference does it make? We're never gonna be happy, so stop pretending to. Stop wasting your time on someone that won't last." He shrugged indifferently.

It was like he was talking about some random stranger, not about her. It hurt her deeply. As hard as she fought, there was nothing she could do but stand there, listening to his words while feeling betrayed. And, most of all, confused. Why couldn't he see that she loved him?

Why wouldn't he believe her?

They both stood in silence for a moment, neither daring to speak until he almost lunged forward and forcefully kissed her. He pulled her closer, kissing her desperately, as if he were going to die if he stopped. Her hands quickly moved to his chest, gripping onto it tightly as she fought him, trying to break free from his embrace, but he wouldn't relent.

Finally pushing him away, she yelled, "This is not the way to deal with you shit!"

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took a few steps back, watching her with his brows furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising a challenging eyebrow at her.

"I thought you loved me, Y/N? What? You don't want me to love you back?" He mocked, walking towards her while she remained standing firmly in her spot. "Then, why don't you leave?"

She clenched her jaw, holding her breath as tears gathered in the corner of her eye.

"Will this make you feel better?"

"I don't know. It's worth a try."

Tentatively, she placed her hand against his cheek and leaned in despite everything in her telling her not to. She brushed her lips against his, slowly and deliberately, as if she were testing him. She pulled away, expecting him to pull her back in, yet he didn't, remaining in the same position.

"Is that what you want?" He asked quietly, staring into her eyes as he waited for her answer. She nodded slowly, lowering her gaze to avoid eye contact.

At her admission, he yanked her lips on his again, kissing her harder this time, forcing himself to deepen the kiss. He noticed that despite her arguments, she still let him kiss her. He didn't understand it, but didn't care. He was getting his way, and that was all that mattered. The taste of her was intoxicating as he cupped her face with his large hands and held her tight against him, running his tongue along her bottom lip, forcing her to open her mouth.

With one swift motion, he pushed her backwards, and she landed roughly on the bed, falling back against the pillows, gasping slightly as her body hit the soft mattress. It wasn't a gentle seduction by any means. It was rough and passionate, his hands feeling every part of her as he hovered over her body.

His kisses trailed down her throat and across her shoulders before continuing down her chest, stopping above the neckline of her shirt. His hands slowly made their way up her abdomen, brushing the fabric aside, revealing more skin and flesh that was already covered in goosebumps.

"You don't have to do this," he reminded her. "Please don't do it if you don't want to."

Losing their virginity to each other was the last thing that Adrian had expected when he came into the house. They had both waited for each other. Y/N often got made fun of by her friends at parties as she would turn all the boys down. They would tease, "You're 21? What are you doing? That guy was hot! Are you waiting till marriage or some shit?"

"I want to make you feel good," she explained, letting her thumb move along his cheekbone, tracing the contours of it softly. "Let me help you feel good."

Adrian stared into her eyes and saw the pain and longing reflected in them, making him feel guilty for hurting her.

As soon as he saw the figurine, he had made up his mind. This was a goodbye.

If this was the last time he'd see her, he was going to make it count. There was no use hiding it anymore. There was no point in keeping it a secret anymore.

"I love you too," he admitted in a low whisper. The look of relief on her face instantly erased all traces of disappointment. She smiled, placing her hands on either side of his face as she pressed a tender kiss to his lips.

The second they pulled apart, he continued pressing gentle kisses along her jaw and neck, sucking lightly as he moved downwards to trail light kisses along her collarbone. He had seen this done in movies, and the woman usually liked it. She closed her eyes, smiling to herself, unable to hold back the chuckle that escaped her lips. She placed her fingers on the sides of his neck, tilting her head back slightly as he kept attacking her.

So, she liked it too. That was great. A real win. He had done something correctly.

Guiding his hands under her shirt, she let him take her shirt and bra off, pulling it over her head until she was finally bare to him. He lowered himself down, his lips trailing down from her shoulder to her breast. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, committing every detail to his memory. "You're perfect," he breathed in admiration. He was getting a real kick out of saying all the things that he usually kept inside his head.

Just before he took a nipple into his mouth, he looked up at her questioningly. She nodded her head, signalling that it was okay. He immediately latched onto it hungrily, sucking and nipping at it as she let out moans of pleasure. She arched her back in response, allowing him to suck even harder as he ran his hands down her thighs, pulling them up to wrap loosely around his waist, holding him close to her.

"I've imagined this so many times when I'm jacking off, and you're so much better than anything I could ever come up with."

Her cheeks flushed red, the tip of her nose turning into a rosy colour. She giggled, covering her mouth with a small palm. "You imagined us too?" She asked. She had, but often chastised herself. She thought he would find it weird or gross.

"Too?" He frowned, pausing to stare at her confused expression. "How many times did you think about this?" He asked curiously, his heart racing at the possibilities. Did she fantasise about them together? If so...

"A lot." She said truthfully, biting her lower lip nervously. He smirked, reaching down and grabbing her thigh, squeezing gently. He bit his lip as his eyes wandered down, glancing between her legs then back up to meet her gaze once more.

"You imagined it with me?" He asked, leaning down to place a light kiss on her cheek. She nodded slowly and to further her point, she reached for his hand and methodically slipped them under her panties so he could feel how much she wanted him. "So that's what a vagina feels like," he murmured teasingly. "Very nice, by the way."

She let out an embarrassed laugh, shaking her head as she tried to hide the growing smile playing upon her lips. When he finally started moving down towards her entrance, she gasped in anticipation, closing her eyes shut as she felt a finger entering her warm wet hole, slowly making its way inside. She moaned quietly, enjoying the feeling of him slowly stretching her.

"Do you like that?" he asked her, watching her face. He wasn't sure at first, then saw as her mouth hung open. That was a big clue that she liked it.

"Yes," she answered after a moment, taking several deep breaths to calm herself. She opened her eyes and locked them with his, gazing deeply into his eyes as she whispered huskily, "Can you, uh, pay more attention to my clit?"

Shit. The whole fucking his fingers into her had been easy.

"Yeah, yeah... where is it?"

Stopping for a second so she could remove her last remaining clothes, sat up and placed his finger on the right spot. She sucked in a sharp breath, arching her back slightly as he worked her clit with his finger.

"Want more?" When she groaned in response, he knew that meant yes so he slid two fingers in and out of her, quickly increasing the pressure. He loved the way her eyes opened wider and her body clenched around his hand. "I want to taste you. Can I?"

"Y... Yeah," she replied, lifting her hips upwards. She mewled through clenched teeth as he kept his eyes on her the entire time he slipped his tongue into her and tasted her wetness. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Her hips bucked and she nearly jumped out of his arms, but he placed his hands on her hips to keep her steady and increased the pace. He'd never been so turned on before.

As his tongue started roaming over her sensitive spots while he pleasured her, she was gripping the sheets tightly with both hands. He couldn't tell if she was crying, screaming or just moaning loudly and incoherently, but regardless of what she was doing, it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. With each lick, he swore that he had never tasted anything sweeter as he drove her beyond the edge.

"Oh, god..." she cried out in ecstasy. She grabbed his hair and squeezed his head tightly, her back arching off the bed as she came violently. He watched her as she came undone in front of him, clenching around him as waves of intense pleasure washed over her.

The wave subsided and he pulled away momentarily to watch her regain her breath as she offered, "Want me to... you know, suck you off now?"

"Please," he begged. "I mean, only if you want to." She nodded eagerly, climbing out from under him and onto her knees, crawling and kneeling beside him. She placed both hands on his cheeks and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his as her hand palmed his crotch over his trousers.

Oh, yeah he was fully clothed.

"How am I totally naked and you've still got everything on?" she joked, running her hands up the material of his jeans and across to his clothed erection. His breath caught in his throat as her fingers started fumbling with his zipper, tugging at it until it popped open and revealed the tent in his underwear. He lifted his hips slightly, encouraging her to slide both of his trousers and boxers off of him.

Once she did, she found the hem of his shirt and waited for confirmation before removing it. She knew he was a little self-conscious. He always wore his t-shirt into the pool whenever they went swimming, so she cooed, "You can leave it on, if you want to?"

"No. I trust you."

Gently, she lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his torso and chest. He shivered as she ran her palms across his skin, relishing in how smooth it felt beneath her fingertips.

"I always forget how freckly you are. I like it," she complimented softly, stroking the expanse of his chest. She kissed along his ribs and stomach as she went lower and lower, getting closer to his dick. She stopped and stared at it for a moment as she slowly ran her finger from his tip to base, then up and back again.

His body gave a quick jolt at the sensation, which only got more intense as her lips wrapped his tip and began swirling her tongue around it, drawing soft circles around it as she sucked gently, working him in and out of her mouth. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he pushed his hips upwards, his fingers tangling in her hair and digging into her scalp.

She had watched porn before, so she had a general idea of what to do. Whatever she was doing, he clearly seemed to like it as his head rolled back and he let out a loud moan. He admitted with a shaky breath, "Fuck, you're so hot. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."

Y/N upped slowed her pace but took his cock further into her throat, as far as she could go without choking on him. He whined down at her, his heart pounding rapidly inside his chest as he held tight to the top of her head.

"I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you?" he pleaded impatiently as he rocked into her mouth, desperate he tried to maintain some sense of control over himself. She stopped briefly, opening her eyes and giving him an uncertain look. Was she ready for it?

When she finally removed her mouth from him, she lay beside him and smiled sweetly up at him as he slotted himself above her again. He cupped his hands behind her head, keeping his weight off her as he leaned forward to plant gentle kisses along her jaw and neck.

"If you don't want to, I'll understand," he reassured her. He didn't want her to push herself, if she was uncomfortable or not wanting to have sex with him yet, no matter how much he wanted her, he wouldn't force her into something she didn't want, especially not now.

After all, she was going to hate him for the rest of her life after tonight. He wanted at least one more good memory. He was going to have to remember every single part of this moment. Of how she tasted, how beautiful she looked, how hot she sounded, how good she made him feel (physically and mentally).

He'd have to remember how safe and at ease he felt with her. That would probably be the thing he would miss the most.

"I'm ready," she confirmed, twining her fingers through his hair as he slowly and carefully pushed into her. She let out a tiny gasp, her body tensing as she adjusted to accommodate him. He continued thrusting, careful to keep his momentum slow and steady, making sure she was comfortable, until they were finally both satisfied enough to start moving together.

To tell the truth, she had expected it to hurt but she'd heard from her friends that that only tended to happen if the girl wasn't comfortable and was panicking. She didn't know if that was true or not, but was so thankful that it hadn't happened to her. Not only because she didn't want to feel pain, but also because she didn't want Adrian to think he had hurt her. That was the last thing she wanted.

At that moment, she was sure that nothing he could do would ever hurt her.

"Ade, you can go harder if you want," she urged him, holding him close and burying her face into his shoulder, listening to him panting in order to get his breathing under control. With a little hesitation, he obliged and went faster and deeper, causing Y/N's hips to start moving up and down as she responded to him.

God, he loved seeing her react to him like that. It was a sight he would cherish forever. "You feel good. You're so beautiful," he breathed as he pulled back to watch as her whole body moved as he pounded her, the way her tits bounced and bounced, the way her head tilted, her thighs shaking and trembling, her eyes rolling back into her head and her moans filling the room and echoing off the walls. It was everything that he imagined and more.

"Adrian!" she cried out, throwing her head back and clutching onto his shoulders. He grunted against her ear, feeling every second of it, unable to stop himself from grabbing her waist and pulling her up closer to him as he continued to pump into her.

His vision became clouded with lust and passion, his mind becoming consumed by her and nothing else. He gripped her hips tighter, pumping into her harder and harder as sweat dripped from his forehead onto hers. As his eyes fluttered shut and his breath shortened, he could feel his own climax approaching rapidly and he desperately needed release.

With a deep groan, his body began spasming uncontrollably as he reached his final destination.

"Fuck. Shit, sorry!" he shouted loudly, releasing inside of her as his orgasm hit him full force.

But, he didn't stop. She hadn't come yet. He would not leave her unsatisfied. He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply before pulling out and replacing his cock with his fingers as he pumped into her relentlessly, using his juices as extra lubricant as he pleasured her once more. He felt every bit of his orgasm rippled through her as it pulsed powerfully through her entire body.

"You are a goddess," he gasped out when he was able to talk. "An actual goddess."

A goddess? She'd take that! "Wow," she murmured, taking in a deep breath as she slowly became aware of her surroundings and their unique position. "Was that... wow. I... I'm... I... You. "

A quiet, comfortable silence hung over them. The only sound that was heard was the steady rhythm of their breaths as Adrian lay against her chest. He was planning on leaving as soon as they were done, but he couldn't bring himself to. He kept waiting for her to push him away, and when she didn't, it only spurred him on a little. It was her fault for being so damn warm and comfy. He was going to have to end this soon, but he wasn't ready to.

"I'm going to miss you," he admitted, burying his face into her skin so she couldn't see his expression. Her arms snaked around him, squeezing him tightly and rubbing her cheek against his shoulder blade.

"I'll be back before you know it."

Y/N couldn't believe it the next day when he ignored her. She knew he was inside his house. His light was on. The doors were locked and his window was shut, so she couldn't even try and climb up it.

Was the sex that bad? Had it really meant nothing to him? Did he just not care about her? Or… did he just not want her that way anymore? Did he really not want her at all? Not even as a friend? What if she lost him? No, she won't lose him. It won't happen. This is all a nightmare. Everything will be fine. Give him a day and it will be fine.

A day turned into a week. A week turned into two weeks and then three. And then she had to go back to Chicago for her tests. She wasn't too happy about it, but she didn't exactly have any choice. She had already had so many extensions.

Weeks turned into months. He never picked up her calls. Seemingly, he'd blocked her from all social networks. She even sent him a letter that had no response. He didn't go to her graduation like he had once promised to. What had she done? She waited and waited and waited.

Until she couldn't any more. Months turned to years. Eventually, she gave up and left him behind, knowing it wasn't worth fighting for his attention anymore. She missed him, she truly did, but she didn't need him. He wasn't in her life anymore, not the way she'd once hoped he would be.

After everything, Y/N wasn't able to forgive him, and was certain he'd never be able to forgive himself.

Their lives moved forward. Not happily, no. How could they be? They were surviving on half a heart.

Adrian stayed in Evergreen and closed himself off, spending all his hours inside his house training like he was going on a deadly Ninja Warrior. He quit his job and burned through all the money his parents had left him in the will on guns and knives and swords. Over time, he went a little crazy after not talking to anyone for two years before re-emerging as the crime fighter 'Vigilante'.

Admittedly, his first few patrols sucked because he'd only practised on dummy's and living people move around a lot more than he expected. But, after five years, he got good. Really good at it.

On the other hand, Y/N became more open. Well, her legs did. S ex and relationships became a novelty after her heart had been broken and she didn't care about who she gave herself to anymore. So long as she was free to go wherever the wind blew, as long as she was allowed to sleep with whomever she pleased, whenever she liked, she was content. Meaner, but content.

Still, professionally, she was doing well. After college, she got an internship at a law firm and worked in Chicago until she didn't. The law firm that she worked for had been bought out by Lex Luther and he had fired anyone who wouldn't fall in line with his ideas. That meant that Y/N had to go.

So, Y/N was on her way back to Evergreen with a scowl and tinder open.

Chapter 3: One That Got Away

[angelsdean]

Top 5 Dean relationships (including platonic/familial) <3

ok i'm going completely platonic/familial with this one bc the casgirl in me gets a little jelly if i think abt his other romantic relationships TOO much like they're good great even ! but. cas...djfkdk ok anyways

dean + jo - been thinking abt them A LOT lately ever since my mutual gender envy post and just. yeah they're gender buddies<3 they have a weird dynamic that they don't really understand for a long long time (both thinking they have crushes on each other but then thinking no that's weird and not right but still not able to fully understand what they're feeling) and then once they doo get it they just chill together like sleepover hangouts where they get high and talk abt their gender + sexuality feels and jo's like "i love boobs" and dean's like "god i wish i had tits" and jo's like "you dooo ur tits are great !" and then they just giggle and jo paints deans nails and dean buzzes jo's head<3

dean + bobby - THAT'S HIS DAD !!!!! HIS REAL DAD !!! like bobby is so important "you're the closest thing i have to a father" yeah! bobby's not perfect and he's also Not Great at talking abt things but he's /there/. he's always been there and he's defended dean against john and looked out for him and tried to give him some snapshots of a normal childhood, taking him to the park to play catch instead of shooting guns. that scene where bobby holds dean's face and cries…KILL ME.

dean + jack - DEAN IS A GOOD PARENT the hill i will die on. dean got a lot of things wrong with jack, yes. the guilt eats him alive 24/7. a lot of it was chuck's fault. a lot of it was the ghost of john winchester. a lot of it was just grief and displaced anger. it doesn't /excuse/ his actions but !!!! if he could do it over, if he could do it different, if cas hadn't died i just Know he'd be moving in to play house with cas and take care of that kid, the devil's son or not. so like, i just know that /after/ in the soft epilogue they all get, dean would put the work in to fix his relationship with jack and conciously do everything he can to Not Be John. That's his parenting motto: Don't Be John.

dean + charlie - his bff that he ISN'T in love with (unlike with cas). he gets to be his mega nerdy self with charlie and he doesn't have to worry about /feelings/ or anything. they go on little shopping sprees, have little fashion shows (we all know dean Loves to be put in little outfits), they watch nerd movies and gossip and talk abt their big gay feels. he needs that !! he's never had that before !! she's also the little sister he never knew he wanted and with charlie, for once, he gets to JUST be a brother. they have the sort of sibling bond he never really got to have with sam bc he was always also being a parent, thus making himself fundementally unknowable to sam. like s1 sam? literally does not know a thing abt dean it's crazy. anyways.

dean + mary - HELLO INSANE BRAINWORMS. they are mirrors. they hate each other. they love each other. they can't stand seeing the reflection of themselves in the other. dean also holds onto every similarity with a vicelike grip. his lips are mary his eyes are mary his hair (blonde dean truthing!) he looks in the mirror his whole life and sees her even as he's trying to twist and mold himself into his father. he never can because sam is john's true mirror. he never can because he is alway always going to be his mother's son. and mary, god mary can't look at him because she never wanted this for him. she can't look at him because where is her baby? she can't look at him because all she sees is herself, the hunter, the killer, the woman who could never quite mold herself into a mother. except. well. dean DID do that, and did it better than she ever could. and she resents him for that a little bit, and resents him for putting her on that pedestal, and resents him for asking her to BE a mother. but she also deeply mourns the fact that dean had to take her place, that dean lost so much of his life, his childhood, trying to fill the empty space she left behind. i could go on forever abt this.

ok this reply got SO long but. yeah<3

[lillybean730]

tell us more about the duality of kiwei. the public needs to know.

ok forewarning i may start rambling in this bc i have put a lot of thought into this guy and 90% isn't written down anywhere

ok came back to add a cut im so sorry for the unfiltered illness below im not going to edit it this is pure stream of consciousness

right so! for starters kiwei is for the most part very chill. a nice person, kind to children, helps old ladies cross the street etc etc. they also have so much goddamn grief and rage boiling inside begging for an outlet before they snap. (yes i do like the drk quest line how can you tell?)

they weren't always like that though, after the banquet and *especially* after haurchefaunt and ysayles deaths is really when this started building. see kiwei really gets stuck on the anger part of the stages of grief, and really doesn't start letting go until after they get compared to zenos. kiwei was really gunning to kill him after the massacre at the reach and hearing abt all the devastation he caused, and when zenos said "you want to rip my throat out huh buddy?" he was right. and that terrified and disgusted them. and getting called his friend? even worse

while all this turmoil was boiling within though, they really kept a vice grip on what did make them happy, namely their friends. alphinaud by that point was basically their little brother and alisaie was quickly joining the "honorary little sibling club", so they really tried to keep the mask from slipping to prevent those two from worrying. at this point they weren't all that close to the other scions actually, especially compared to how they become one big family by the end. anyway they also continued to be quite kind to strangers in an attempt to feel normal again, to try and find the joy of helping they got at the beginning of their travels. mixed results but hey they tried.

by shadowbringers the rage has died down a bit and mostly they're just tired. they feel like a living weapon and it doesn't help that many treat them like one too. when trying to sneak off to the tempest alone they genuinely didn't expect the scions to come with, given the inherent risk of standing next to a ticking time bomb. the events in the tempest are a huge turning point for kiweis emotional state. the kindness becomes less forced, friendships become deeper, and they (god forbid) occasionally express emotions to others outside of hitting things.

by endwalker theyre a lot calmer but that fear of doing harm just by the nature of being the warrior of light and being an impulsive person is really cranked up after the body snatching incident. and boy were they glad to finally kill zenos, he threatened their new family (and new happiness) for the last time.

basically, having this sort of impulse to hit people when they piss em off, the strength to kill gods, a deep desire to not hurt anyone, and the blood of hundreds on their hands makes for a contradictory sort of character

wow that became a stupid long discussion of their emotions let's talk design. kiwei is made of sharp lines and round curves. most of the spiky bits are "added" features let's say? sharp claws, scruffy hair, their facial tattoos, whatever weapon they have, and their little fang earrings. more basic features are round. their nose and face are round, and they prefer to wear soft fabrics instead of armor. there's a few outliers, scars in general to me are neither round nor sharp but that's up to personal views in design so i figured id mention it, and their little fangs bc kibby kat

even then there are softer sides to most spiky bits, their hair has braids (a tradition in their old family and honestly i will talk more abt that in a sec) and the claws also actually hold family meaning ok quick tangent

basically: the guy got disowned for "betraying the family by becoming an adventurer instead of the next matriarch". despite that, they still uphold a lot of family traditions. the braids are something their siblings did growing up, the bone carved jewelry is a family tradition (which im not talking abt here bc this is long enough im so sorry), and the sharp claws.

now: the timeline of claws works like this

ages 1-17ish: normal nails

(for women) ~17-before firstborn: allowed to grow out claws as a sign of being able to fight for oneself

after firstborn: cut those claws bc you might scratch ur baby

men do whatever you aren't there grow em out cut em who give a shit

so in the culture being an adult is signified by claws, but it's also a sign of immaturity. being an adult with nails means a position of authority and care over your family. it's sort of accepted that the mother's dont need to rely on claws to protect their kids.

how this applies to kiwei is up until shb kiwei had claws, but after some incidents where reaching out to touch someone (esp on the face) caused them to flinch they used their background in arcanima to help. they have painted sigils on their nails that project the image of claws without them actually being physical. by adjusting the flow of aether they can either become corporeal or disappear entirely. this occupies a weird space of maturity and immaturity, violence and comfort

a duality in other words

tldr: the cat is a little beast who is trying so hard to be kind despite the world seeming to be trying to make them a violent monster. kindness in the face of your own anger

honestly that tldr is all you need and im not sure i articulated this right

[minteyeddevil]

Brothers Reacting to MC having a Protective Dog

(GN!MC, dog that barks and growls lol. My own dog is like this with people so I thought it would be funny for the bros to deal with :'D)

---

Lucifer:

When MC comes to the Devildom with a dog at their side, he at first is rather annoyed

They are not the friendliest animal, growling and snarling at him every time he gets near MC

He gets to the point where he almost snarls back, trying to intimidate the animal; he's never had this much grief even with Cerberus

Eventually gives up on that route and tries to befriend the dog with treats and attempted head pats

With time he gets the dog to start coming around, and they soon can both sit next to MC without getting into a growling match with each other

Mammon:

At first he finds the dog rather cute, and goes in for a pet while they are sitting next to MC

But apparently he got too close, and the dog snaps at him and growls

Oh it's on now

Will literally fight the dog for a right to be next to MC

They get in wrestling matches all the time and Mammon usually ends up getting pinned by the dog lol

He eventually pouts to MC about how the dog is treating him, so they try to get those two to get along better

Leviathan:

Oh, a doggo. Friendly doggo? Oh shit, nope, angry doggo!

He tries to avoid the dog as much as he can because of how much it growls at him

He just wants to sit next to MC, buddy, please calm down;;

Tries to talk nicely to the dog and win them over with kindness

He brings them treats whenever he visits MC, and soon begins to win them over

Now they tend to sit in his lap and squash him lol

Satan:

Couldn't it have been a cat they brought with them?

Does not hide his glare when the dog snarls at him for getting too close to MC

Does this animal want to fight? Because he will give them a fight

MC calms him down whenever he starts getting into stare downs with their dog

Ends up looking into different methods on how to win a protective dog over so he doesn't upset MC

Asmodeus:

Coos and aww's at the dog when he first meets them, going in right away for a pet

Only for them to growl a warning, and he pulls back immediately

Looks at MC concerned, and they explain that their dog is just like that with strangers; they are very protective of them

He tries his power on the dog to pacify them, but MC begs him not to do that, so he stops

Tries to show the dog he means no harm to MC by being gentle and sweet with them in front of the dog

Eventually they calm down and just relax next to Asmo when he comes to see MC

Beelzebub:

We all know that Beel has the tendency to want to eat creatures when he first meets them

But this dog sets him on edge so he steps back immediately

Looks at MC kind of pouty that the dog doesn't seem to like him

They apologize and tell him just to be patient with the dog, they'll come around eventually

Tries to pet them, even when they bite his hand; he just mumbles a small "Ow" and continues petting

They slowly start to ease up on Beel, and instead of bites, give him small, tentative licks to his hand

He beams at MC that the dog is starting to become his friend

Belphegor:

Frowns at how much the dog keeps growling at him every time he goes near MC

He tries to growl back, but it only makes things worse, so he stops that immediately

Gets to the point that he ignores the snarling and just plops on MCs bed to cuddle with them despite the dog's barking

He guesses that the dog gives up at some point; or has gotten used to him

Because they eventually just plop down next to him and start to nap along side him

Wraps his arm around the dog while his other arm wraps around MC

[thefirstknife]

Some of the more interesting bits of today's reset and dialogues. I loved this from Mara. She acknowledges her participation in steering Uldren towards his downfall AND she realises that she will have to do better with him in the future. This is from the ending dialogue when you finish the exotic quest for the Ager's Scepter.

I want to mention something from the start of the week because I've seen people get angry (but when do they not when it comes to Mara?)

Long post under read more:

It's about the discussion she and Ikora have at the terminal. Hot take, but both Mara and Ikora are right and wrong in the argument. Transcript:

Mara: "How long have your Hidden been privy to Uldren's resurrection?" Ikora: "Long enough to watch over him in your absence." Mara: "And you didn't direct him home. Why?" Ikora: "There was a concern he'd pick up some old habits." Mara: "You know the Garden made him sick. Riven twisted his mind. Eris would have seen it. She is not so easily deceived by skin-deep tricks." Ikora: "It's true I made mistakes, out of an idea of justice... out of grief. Are you leveling this same scrutiny toward Petra? Wasn't she supposed to be watching his grave?" Mara: "Petra has paid her dues. The Vanguard murdered him and has yet to pay theirs." Ikora: "We both lost family. I am sorry for my part in yours, but... Crow has been treated --" Mara: "My brother is dead. He was exhumed; his body twisted into a caricature. You had your vengeance." Ikora: "Is that what you're after? Cayde... I still feel that grief like a stone caught in my chest. Some days, it's more pronounced than others. Vengeance didn't erode that grief." Mara: "Then tell me. Who am I to blame? Who sent him to Savathun's clutches? Who bludgeoned Uldren into a scared animal and drove him from his home?" Ikora: "You did, Mara. And those Guardians that hurt him, did so out of misguided anger. Don't make the same mistake. Don't make my mistake."

This is some heavy stuff and there's a lot going on. First, I like that Mara doesn't respond at the end. It's uncharacteristic for her. It shows that Ikora's words did something to her. This is evident in the exotic quest later which I've already put at the beginning of the post. She's had time to think and she's admitting the part she played.

I dislike some of Ikora's arguments a lot. First, "concern that he'd pick up some old habits" goes entirely against the Vanguard policy and belief that Guardians are new people. They were only concerned because of bias towards Uldren due to what he's done. And Crow knows this! He said so last week when he wondered why is he the only Guardian judged by his past life. No one else is subjected to the same way of thinking. This is the reason why Guardians aren't supposed to dig around their past lives. Obviously with Crow, there's no way for him to avoid it, but the argument that, if he knew, he'd just magically become Uldren (and not just base!Uldren, but murderer!Uldren who will... I don't know, go after Ikora and Zavala or the innocent people in the City?) really shows how much the Vanguard mistreated Crow.

I also dislike the move to Petra. As Mara says, Petra has paid her dues. She really has. Let's not forget that Uldren was not just some guy to her or just her Prince; he was her friend. She had to watch him spiral out of control due to things she couldn't help him with, she had to make the choice to put him away until Mara comes back and at the end she had to make the choice to kill him. This trauma has shaped her.

The Vanguard hasn't paid any dues. That's kinda the whole point of Mara's questioning. Ikora tries to explain that this was due to grief and losing family, but pray tell Ikora, has Mara not lost family too? Mara mentions this immediately as expected.

Ikora is however right to say that it was ultimately Mara's actions that led to the situation we're currently in. The Vanguard had no say in Awoken royal family affairs. Mara knows this, she said as much in the past few weeks and other lore in general: she spoke at length about the distance she pushed between them out of perceived necessity, the need to shape Uldren in a way to make him less like himself (since she disliked his recklessness and dangerous behaviours), but ultimately that only made things worse. She's aware that his venture into the Black Garden was fuelled by Uldren's need to prove himself. Ironically, in an effort to make him loyal and devoted, Mara pushed him into more recklessness instead of stopping it. She's aware of this. Asking Ikora "who am I to blame" was just waiting to be roasted.

But Mara is also right to ask about how the Vanguard treated both Uldren and Crow. How they washed their hands from killing him "officially" by hiding behind the Guardian, how nobody in the Tower answered for this. Their treatment of Crow as well: forcing him into hiding, isolating him. Excusing all the suffering he felt at the hands of the Guardians as "misguided anger." The torture he endured from Guardians just for showing his face was so much more than just "misguided anger" and Mara is right to feel heated and enraged when she talks about this and when she asks her questions. She expressed similar distaste and anger in a voice line with Glint in regards to how the Spider treated Crow.

I got an interesting dialogue at the end of my Shattered Realm run which also made me really irritated on behalf of both Crow and Mara when it comes to the Vanguard. Ikora asks Crow why didn't he send his latest report and Crow replies that he's had a lot going on and a lot to deal with. Which is true! He's not the Drifter who doesn't send reports out of spite; Crow genuinely wants to help but he's struggling with a lot of things that we can't even begin to unravel. He deserves patience and understanding. However, the following then ensues.

Ikora:

Crow:

Ikora:

This last part is a nice sentiment. But excuse me. Crow has literally been resurrected, isolated, tortured, enslaved and then "rescued" only to be thrust into a cage in the Tower and given "responsibilities." He is not obliged to be the Vanguard's errand boy. It's honestly quite rude from Ikora to tell him that he has to take his responsibilities seriously. The man hasn't lived a single day in his life without anxiety over whether he'll be tortured to death in the street if he shows his face.

I know the Vanguard gave him protection from the Spider and stuff to do (which he enjoys) and accepted him into their ranks. That's all good. But there's very little empathy here that acknowledges the life he's lived. Crow deserves to experience things that aren't isolation, imprisonment and following orders.

And most of all, he deserves to know the truth. Something the Vanguard has denied him for almost a year now. I know Savathun's schemes were involved and specifically, they were involved through impersonating Osiris which made a lot of people turn a blind eye. But now that this is known?

Crow can't share his burdens without knowing the truth. That's the whole problem. Everybody, except him, knows who he was. Everyone looks at him and treats him through that lens. He can't unburden himself without being told half-truths and being denied information. His burdens exist precisely because he doesn't know while everyone else does. So while the sentiment is nice, it reads more like a "that sucks buddy" than a genuine offer to help him with what is really bothering him.

On the other hand, obviously sharing the truth is difficult. His past life is more complicated than for most other Guardians. He's been through things that other Guardians haven't. The situation is complex on every single level and every character has a reason for the choices they've made.

Sometimes those choices are wrong and they are mistakes. And Mara isn't the only one who made the wrong choices and mistakes, consciously and unconsciously. It's a disservice to the complexity of the situation, Ikora, the Vanguard and Uldren to boil everything down to "Mara bad." Doesn't make for a compelling story.

That's what I wanted to address in detail because on the surface, it's easy to just dismiss either of the character you dislike more. And that's just reducing the story to a spectrum of black and white that Destiny really, ironically, isn't about.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Green is My Favorite Color Ch. 12

Pairings: Dean x Fem!OFC

Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Angst - so much angst, grief, talk of major character death, smut, p in v, some fingering, slightly rough sex, unprotected sex, Dean being an asshole (kind of), fluff.

Word Count: 7, 506 (sorry for another long chapter!)

Series Summary: Dean has been her hero from childhood, can she ever get him to be more?

|| Series Masterlist ||

Chapter Summary: How will Dean cope with Sammy gone? How can Julie try to heal him?

A/N:  The twelth chapter in a longer series. As I’m writing, the story is stretching out a little and I’m thinking it’s going to be at least 20 chapters. Sorry! 😬 It’s what I’ll call cannon adjacent. It will follow the general storylines through the seasons, but I’m creating my own offshoots. 😊

The beautiful divider at the end was created by @talesmaniac89. 💗

3 months later (May 2010)

Julie pressed the ice pack to her shoulder, hoping to take away the worst of the ache. She and Annie had been exorcising a demon when his buddy had shown up ready to fight. The two women had managed to take down both demons, wrangling the second one into the devil's trap as well, and exorcising them both.

But not before demon #2 had landed a hard blow to Julie's shoulder; he'd been aiming for her head and she dodged at the right moment, but he still clipped her shoulder.

So now, hours later, she was sitting back at the motel, trying to recover while Annie had gone off to help another hunter friend Julie didn't know.

Everything was in chaos right now. There was so much demon activity that the network of hunters across the Midwest couldn't keep up with it.

Something about the upcoming battle of Armageddon seem to have them all excited and riled. That thought brought back the memory of her phone call with Sam two days before, when he told her the plan.

"What? Sam, that can't possibly be the only option!" Julie had said, completely horrified and blown away by what Sam was telling her.

"It is the only option. We can't kill him. So, the only thing we can do is try and get him back in the cage, and..." He paused for a moment but when he spoke again, his voice was full of conviction. "...and I'm the only one who can try to get control of him, and toss him back in."

"Besides," he said, his voice getting quieter. "I let him out, I've gotta put him back in."

Julie had tried to argue his point, but she couldn't come up with any possible alternative if they wanted Lucifer safely caged away again.

She talked with Sam another twenty minutes, with her trying to find solutions that didn't exist and Sam just trying to tell her goodbye. Finally they ended the call.

"Bye, Julie. You take care of my brother, okay? He's gonna be stubborn as hell, but I guess you already know that. But just promise me you won't give up on him too quickly."

Julie wiped away the tears Sam couldn't see, but the quaver in her voice gave them away anyway.

"I'll do whatever he'll let me do, Sam. I promise. But please don't say goodbye like we'll never see each other again." A sob broke through and she tried to squelch it.

"I refuse to say goodbye to you, Sam Winchester. I'll only say, see you later." She pushed down another sob. "So, I'll see you later."

She could almost see Sam's gentle smile as he answered. "I'll see ya, Julie."

After she got off the phone with Sam, she tried to reach Dean a couple of times, but wasn't surprised when he didn't answer. Stubborn, just like Sam said.

So, instead she reached out to Bobby.

"I want to come help, Bobby! I'm new, but I'm a good fighter and I feel like Armageddon is kind of an all hands on deck situation!"

"Sure, it is. That's why I need you and Annie here in Detroit, putting out fires around the city. I've contacted almost a dozen other hunters that I know around the country and warned them to be on the lookout for increased demon activity, and maybe even trouble from the angels. We need you guys to keep the world safe, while we try to keep it spinnin'."

Julie knew he was right, someone had to look out for the regular people and families while chaos reigned. But she couldn't help wanting to be there with them all. She also could help feeling that Bobby was happy to have an excuse to keep her far away from the devil at ground zero.

So, she and Annie, and a handful of other hunters that Julie was meeting for the first time, did the best they could to keep everything running and save as many people as possible.

There was some distrust from the other hunters about working with Julie, since they didn't know her or her capabilities. But Annie vouched for her and Julie felt happy that she'd been able to hold her own with the more experienced hunters.

One of the men, a sweet, slightly odd guy named Garth, gave her his card and told her he'd be happy to work with her again and to call him any time she needed a hand. She tucked it away in her back pack, happy to have made an ally.

Now, she sat alone in the motel room, watching the news reporting flash floods, and shooting stars, freak storms and and earthquakes. She had to give the anchors credit for staying calm while they reported the end of the world.

She washed down a couple painkillers and hoped they did a better job at relieving the ache in her shoulder than the rapidly warming ice pack.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, quiet and tentative. The world being what it was, she picked up her shotgun as she went to the door to look out the peephole.

When she saw who was on the other side, she wrenched the door open as she rested her shotgun against the wall.

"Dean." she breathed out as she looked at him, tall and solid and seemingly in one piece.

But then she caught his gaze, and his eyes, dear god, his eyes were just bottomless pools of pain and hurt.

Julie looked behind him where Baby sat parked and empty.

"Bobby?" she asked.

Dean's mouth twitched in a parody of a smile. "He's good. He's...he went back to his place, he figured there'd be lots of hunters looking for help, so he's manning the hub."

Julie nodded, relief flooding her while trepidation and heartbreak still sat heavy in her stomach.

"Sam?" she asked, her voice nearly silent.

Another ghost of a smile graced his lips and his jaw clenched. "He...he got him. He..." his breaths were becoming shallow. "He won. He's.." He swallowed convulsively for a minute, and Julie knew he was trying to swallow down the pain and grief.

"He's gone."

Julie put her fingertips against her mouth. "Dean." she whispered before she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist praying he would allow it.

He hesitated a minute before he pulled her as close to him as he could and more or less fell on her shoulder.

He buried his face in her neck and in her hair that was loose around her shoulders. He leaned on her heavily, as though he was having trouble standing under his own power, and Julie struggled to keep from buckling under him.

But she stood strong, desperate to be there where he needed her to be. She was determined not to start crying, trying to keep her emotions in check so he wouldn't feel he needed to comfort her.

It was a hope that became impossible as she felt his massive frame begin to shake and broken, guttural sounds start to issue from him. It took her a second to realize he was crying; raw, harsh, choked tears that sounded as though his body didn't remember how to do it. When she heard his broken, bleeding grief, she couldn't keep her own tears from falling.

But she stood in the doorway with him, running her hands up and down his back and reaching up to try and run her fingers through his hair, placing kisses wherever she could reach which was mostly his shoulder and the side of his neck.

After a few minutes had passed Dean pulled himself off of her, silent now and staring at the ground.

"I'm sorry." He said, obviously embarrassed.

"Don't you dare be sorry." Julie said as she led him out of the doorway so she could finally close the door. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She led him over to the little loveseat that sat under the window and pushed him gently onto it. His movements seemed disjointed and confused as though he couldn't quite remember how he'd got there.

Julie moved off and put some coffee on, hoping that a good strong cup of coffee might help Dean get rid of some of the fogginess he seemed to be moving in. She knew he'd probably prefer a stiff drink, but she had nothing there, not even a beer.

Probably best that he doesn't start drinking anyway, Julie thought, coffee is better.

As the coffee started to drip into the pot, she watched Dean and tried hard not to start crying all over again. He sat in the exact position she'd pushed him into, not moving a muscle, just staring at the ground. His face was a blank mask, expressionless now that his wracking sobs had ended.

As soon as there was a cupful of coffee in the pot, she pulled it out, the still brewing coffee dripping and hissing against the hot plate, as she filled one of the white china cups on the counter.

She brought it over to Dean and sat down beside him on the couch. When he didn't seem to notice her, she pressed the cup into his hand and he startled, looking as though she'd woken him up from a deep sleep.

"Coffee." She said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's good and strong."

Dean looked down at the cup, his brow furrowed. Julie reached out her hand to run it down his cheek, but as soon as her fingers touched his skin, he jumped back as though she'd burned him, managing to actually burn himself when the scalding hot coffee spilled over his hand.

"Oh God, Dean. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Dean cut her off. "What am I doing here?"

For a second Julie was worried he was suffering some kind of memory loss from trauma, but it soon became obvious, as he set the cup down and wiped his burned hand on his green jacket, that the question had been a rhetorical one.

He stood up and seemed at a loss for a moment, until Julie stood up too. Then he looked at her and scowled, shaking his head again.

"I shouldn't be here." He mumbled as he turned toward the door.

Julie leapt after him, pushing under his arm as he reached for the door so that she blocked the door handle. He pulled up short and glared at her.

"Dean, just wait, talk to me."

But he shook his head. "No, I don't have time to talk. I don't know why I came here. Move."

"What do you mean, you don't have time to talk, where are you going?"

"Just get out of my way!" he bellowed at her.

When Julie remained where she was, he growled out a sound of frustration. "For once Julie - just one fucking time - can you just leave me alone and do what I ask!"

Julie knew he was angry and in pain, and like a wounded animal he was lashing out, but his words still slashed her open, drawing blood.

"Dean..." she tried again.

"Move!"

Blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay she stepped aside and freed the door handle. Dean looked surprised for a minute and didn't move immediately. But then he pulled the door open and stormed through it, leaving it open behind him.

Julie waited to hear the sound of the Impala roaring to life, but it never came. Finally she walked around the still open door and looked outside.

Dean was there still, on the little stoop that led to the motel door, and as Julie watched, he slowly slumped onto the third step up as though he'd been deflated. He dropped his head into his hands, pushing them through his short hair so that they cupped the back of his head and his elbows rested against his knees.

Remembering her promise to Sam, Julie took her chances and walked down the steps to stand on the ground in front of him.

He lifted his head to look at her and his eyes were filled with tears.

"They're hurting him." His voice was barely audible but hearing the words, Julie felt pain squeeze her heart.

"They're...he's not just...it's gonna be even worse for him, he's locked up with Lucifer." He swallowed hard again. "My baby brother is being tortured by the devil, Jules, and I don't..." He broke off and closed his eyes tight, tears leaking out from under his long lashes.

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and when he pulled them away from his face, he'd successfully pushed the tears away.

"I just keep thinking that I can't just sit here. I can't just sit here and let you soothe me and comfort me while Sammy is being..."

"Dean, that's ridiculous." Julie scolded, cutting him off, but keeping her voice gentle. "Do you think that someone caring for you means you don't care about what's happening to Sam? That if you find any kind of comfort, you're somehow making things worse for Sam?"

Dean didn't answer, simply dropping his head and allowing his hands to dangle between his knees. Julie walked closer to him and tilted his chin so he was looking up at her.

"Sam told me to take care of you, Dean. And I intend to keep my promise. So the first thing you're going to do is come inside and drink that cup of coffee while I pack up. Then you and I are going to get into that black beauty over there and go home to Bobby's."

She risked it and ran her hand down Dean's cheek again. This time he leaned into it, turning his head and kissing her palm. He looked up at her, his green eyes still filled with such pain, but also remorse now.

"I'm sorry, Jules."

Julie shook her head. "I know." She grabbed his other cheek with her other hand and bent forward slowly to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Come on, let's go home."

***

The next week was one of the most exhausting Julie had ever experienced. When they got back to Bobby's, Dean said he was just really tired and wanted to go to bed.

Julie brought him to her room and basically tucked him into her bed. She was glad she'd exchanged her old twin bed for a double when she'd come back after college. Dean never would have fit in that tiny thing.

That first night Dean seemed to sleep like the dead, straight through for thirteen hours, but then for the rest of the week, he never slept for more than two hours together.

For the first two days Bobby and Julie barely saw him. He just laid in Julie's room for hours. She would go in to check on him, and he'd either be lying in bed, or sitting up on the side of it, staring at nothing.

She'd tried to get him to come out for meals, but he kept refusing, so she'd started to bring him in food trays, but he'd barely touched any of that either.

On the third morning she went in to check on him, and he hadn't eaten any of the breakfast she'd brought him two hours before. He was sitting on the side of the bed this time and he looked up at her as she entered. Julie wanted to cry.

His eyes had dark purple shadows under them, his eyelids red-rimmed and painful looking. His cheeks were covered in thick scruff and his hair was completely disheveled from sleeping on it and no doubt constantly running his fingers through it.

He still wore the same black t-shirt and jeans he'd worn for the last three days, his leather jacket and flannel tossed in the corner on the floor.

"Hey." Julie said as she sat down beside him on the bed. "It's a really beautiful day out. Bobby has a part he needs for his car and I wondered if you wanted to take a ride with me in Baby to go get it." She nudged his shoulder gently. "Great day to hit the highway."

As soon as she said it, she wanted to take it back. Dean's eyes closed tight and she knew he was thinking about all the hours of open road he'd travelled with Sam. She knew just how special Baby was to both of them. She never should have suggested it.

Before she could say anything else, Dean just shook his head and laid down on the pillow. "Not today, Jules. I'm too tired."

Julie nodded and stood up. She reached out a hand and pushed it through his hair like she would a sick child. She felt Dean pull away a little and she dropped her hand.

"Okay, no problem." Julie said. "Maybe tomorrow." She hated the false note of positivity she put in her voice. It was so forced. She took the untouched, cold food away and closed the door behind her.

Later that evening, Julie went in with a dinner tray. His lunch tray showed only two bites taken out of the turkey sandwich she'd made him. But somehow beside him on the bedside table, was an almost empty bottle of whiskey that she had definitely not brought in.

She didn't bother wondering how the stealthy hunter had managed to sneak in and out of the bedroom without either Bobby or herself noticing.

Magic.

She picked it up and looked at him laying on his back staring up at the ceiling.

"Where did this come from?"

Dean turned bloodshot eyes in her direction. "Bobby's liquor cabinet. Where else?" His voice was nothing but gravel and grit and there was a slight slur to his words.

"Dean. It's probably not a great idea for you to get drunk right now."

He scowled at her. "Well, it's a good thing it's not up to you, because I think this is a perfect time to be drunk."

He sat up and grabbed the bottle out of her hand, opening it and taking another large swig.

Julie threw up her hands, exasperated. "You've barely eaten anything in three days, no wonder you're drunk off half a bottle of whiskey." Julie exchanged trays, setting the dinner tray where the lunch tray had been.

"Look, I made you a burger, extra onions." She tried to pull the bottle out of his hand, but he yanked it back, a few drops sloshing out of the open top.

"Jesus, Jules!! I'm not fucking hungry. Just stop trying to force feed me like I'm some kind of invalid." Dean shouted at her.

"Then stop acting like one!" Julie shouted back. She took a deep breath as he glared at her. "You have to move, Dean. You have to eat something, have a shower, get dressed in other clothes. I'm not saying you have to do that all at once. But pick one thing and do it."

Dean picked up the burger and took a bite of it, washing it down with another pull of whiskey. He set the burger back on the plate. "There, I ate something. Now fuck off."

He glared up at her and Julie spun away from him before she either burst into tears or smacked him across the face.

***

Later that night, Julie was sleeping on the couch as she had been since Dean took over her room, since he clearly didn't want her company. She woke up with a start, hearing Dean give a shout of fear.

She ran to the room and opened the door to see him sitting up on the side of the bed, breathing hard. When he looked up at her, all his previous wrath was gone and there was only fear and heartbreak.

He shook his head. "Sorry." he whispered. "Just a dream."

"I'm gonna be right back." Julie ran quickly out of the room and came back half a minute later with a quart of ice cream and two spoons.

She sat down beside him, leaving plenty of room between them, and handed him a spoon.

"One night, about thirteen years ago," Julie's voice was a whisper. "I woke up so scared and so lost. I didn't know what the next day would bring and I didn't know how I would keep moving forward."

She took a deep breath and took the lid off the ice cream and scooped some up on her spoon.

"Then this floppy-haired guy showed up in my doorway and scared the crap out of me."

Dean huffed out a sound that came close to being a laugh. Julie took it as encouragement.

"But then," she continued. "he brought me into the kitchen and tried to convince me that mint chocolate chip was the best flavor of ice cream."

She held out the tub of green ice cream towards him and he scooped up a spoonful of the minty, chocolatey dessert, closing his eyes as it hit his tongue. He pulled out the spoon and smiled slightly.

"It is still the best." He stated.

Julie shook her head. "No, you're still wrong. Rocky Road for life." Dean finally looked at her and there was a wider, sad smile on his face.

Julie took her own spoonful of ice cream and ate it before she continued. "But it didn't matter what flavor the ice cream was because the guy worked his magic; he made me feel safe and protected. Like everything was going to be okay."

Julie set down the ice cream and got close to him, picking up his hand and rubbing the back of it.

"Now all I wanna do is make that guy feel the same way. Help him feel safe and protected, as though whatever tough things happen tomorrow, he'll be able to handle it and I wanna remind him that he's not alone, I'll be right there to help him."

Dean closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. "Jules, I'm so sorry. I know I'm being an asshole, I keep yelling at you, but you're not..." he sighed deeply. "I'm sorry."

Julie nodded. "I know. I know it's not me your mad at. And when you need to yell, tell me, I'll yell with you. We can go stand out in the yard and scream till our throats hurt." Dean let out a breathy chuckle.

Julie stood up and grabbed the ice cream. "Here, I'll go get you an actual bowl of this, so the rest of it doesn't melt."

As she moved away, Dean snagged her wrist. "No don't go. Just let it melt. Stay here with me."

Julie was about to scoff at him and say he could wait less than two minutes until she put the ice cream away.

But then she saw something in his expression, something that reminded her that asking her to stay, admitting he needed her with him, was incredibly hard for him, and she worried that making light of it at all would make him pull back into himself.

So, she just nodded and set the ice cream on the plate with the burger where it would melt into liquid. Dean laid down and pulled her down beside him so she was lying on her back. He laid mostly on his stomach, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head against her breast.

His body felt tense against her so she began to run one hand through his hair while the other hand rubbed up and down his back as far as she could reach.

Slowly, minute by minute, she began to feel him relax against her. She started to hum something soft that she vaguely remembered her mother singing to her when she'd put her to bed. She was sure she was remembering it wrong, but her voice was soft and slow and soothing and she could feel it working as the muscles in his back loosened and his breathing evened out into the cadence of sleep.

Eventually, she could feel her own eyelids getting heavy and her last thought was to hope that when the sun rose, it wouldn't burn away all the tranquility and peace they'd found in the night.

***

The next few days seemed better.

The next morning, Dean woke up beside her and kissed her cheek before he got up out of bed. A few minutes later she heard the shower start.

He came into the kitchen about twenty minutes later, his hair still damp, dressed in new black jeans and a blue denim shirt. He was so handsome, Julie felt her mouth run dry. She felt bad for lusting after him while he was still so vulnerable and hurting, but she couldn't help it, he was just so beautiful all the time.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with them, eating a few pieces of bacon and some toast.

There was an awkward kind of joviality between them, as though all of them were trying to pretend things were okay now. But it was a brittle kind of happiness and after about an hour Dean looked exhausted.

He stood up and kissed Julie on the head. "I'm just gonna lay down for a bit."

"Sure." Julie said, wanting to add that she knew how much effort it had taken him to do everything he did that morning, and how proud she was of him for his strength, and that she knew how badly he was still hurting every second, and that she didn't expect him to be okay over night and he shouldn't expect it either, and that she loved him no matter what, always and forever.

But since she knew that would be way too much for Dean to take in, she settled for reaching out and squeezing his hand as he walked away.

The next couple days Dean continued to get up in the mornings and eat with them. He was still eating very little, especially for Dean, but he was consuming food and that was all Julie could ask. He worked on some kind of chore in the mornings, working on Baby or a different car in Bobby's yard, or fixing things around the house.

Julie knew how much he loved to work with his hands, and how good he was at taking things apart, finding the problem and putting everything back together again. She hoped that these simple tasks were helping him to feel some kind of sense of control at a time, when he must be feeling powerless.

He was still barely sleeping, and when he did, his sleep was plagued with nightmares that he never talked about. Without either of them discussing it, Julie had stopped sleeping on the couch and now slept beside him every night.

One night, just over a week after he'd lost Sam, Julie woke up again to Dean moaning and jerking in his sleep. Every other night this had happened, Julie just shook him awake and then let him squeeze her too hard as his heart stopped racing and his breathing returned to normal.

This time, however, she couldn't get him to wake. His face was twisted in an expression of torment and she shook him harder.

"No! No!" Dean was almost whispering. "Please, please stop!"

It was the first time he'd said actual words instead of just moaning or breathing roughly.

Julie felt tears burn the back of her throat as she tried again to shake him awake.

"Dean! Honey, wake up!" she called over and over. Finally after nearly two minutes of trying, she shook him and he jumped up, pushing her away from him, as he tried to take in where he was.

The look of confusion and abject horror on his face made Julie have to swallow over and over so that she wouldn't give in to the tears that were threatening to overflow.

She held up her hands. "It's okay, Dean. You're home, with me. Here. At Bobby's." She caught his eye and tried to nod reassuringly. "Remember?" she asked.

She saw the moment reality overtook the remnants of the dream and his shoulders slumped forward. He just stared down at his hands in his lap.

Dean and Julie were facing each other on the bed and Julie tried to catch his gaze again to see how he was recovering, but he just kept staring at his hands, palms up in his lap.

His voice was muffled with sleep and sadness when he spoke. "It was me...I was...Sam was on my table...on the rack in front of me and I was.." He trailed off and Julie saw tears fall into his open palms.

"I was cutting into him, slicing...and...I was screaming in my head to stop, trying to make myself see that it was Sammy...and he was..."

Dean choked slightly, trying to force the tears down. "He was begging me to stop, he was..." Dean let his face fall into his hands, covering it completely. "He was screaming...so loudly..."

Julie couldn't take anymore, she couldn't hear him describe such a horrifying dream any longer. She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms as far as they would go around him with his arms still clutched around his head.

Desperate to do anything that would take away those images Julie just clung to him, at a loss of how to fix it.

Suddenly Dean grabbed her by the upper arms and pushed her away from him only to grab her face and pull her to him for a deep, wild kiss.

Julie could taste both their tears on their lips as she opened her mouth and felt Dean's tongue sweep in and ravage her mouth. He pushed her onto her back and moved his kiss, still open-mouthed and urgent, down her neck.

"Please." Dean said, his voice desperate and pleading. "God, please Jules. Just, I need you. Please, let me..." he trailed off, not giving her specifics of what he wanted her to let him do. But it didn't matter, because she would have done anything if it meant giving him a moment of peace.

"Yes." She said simply. "Yes."

And with her permission, Dean began to move his mouth down her body, frantically running his hands up and down her skin, as though he wanted to touch all of her all at once.

"Fuck, Jules..." he pushed her tank top up and took hold of her bare breast underneath, squeezing and kneading it almost painfully. He laved his tongue across her nipple before moving further down her body.

He slipped his hand into her pajama shorts and groaned when he found her with no panties, and completely soaking wet for him already.

"Jules, I need you so much." He was breathing harshly in her ear as his teeth tugged at her earlobe and Julie let out a small gasp. "I just need your...life...and your light...the...you're so beautiful, I just need it. Please? God, please Jules." He mumbled incoherently.

Dean quickly pulled off her shorts and pulled down his jeans and seconds later Julie felt his cock pushing through her slick folds. She moaned at the feeling.

Finally, he thrust into her and Julie bit hard on her lip to stop from crying out. He rammed into her hard and fast and Julie pressed her fingernails into his shoulders.

Dean reached down and rubbed three fingers hard against the bundle of nerves that were screaming out for his touch and Julie reared up against him.

As he pounded into her, she could feel herself about to climax and knew he was close too by how erratic his movements had become. As he continued to move against her, his mouth was on her pulse point, sucking hard. As he let go of her bruised flesh, he panted into her ear.

"Fuck Jules, please make the dark go away."

"Yes!" Julie moaned back to him, not able to say anything more as she felt her walls squeezing around him as he thrust one final time, groaning harshly into the crook of her neck, pulling slightly on her hair while his body was rigid over her, shudders coursing through him.

Finally, he rolled off of her and lay still, panting to catch his breath. In much the same condition Julie pulled the blanket up over her rapidly cooling skin.

She heard Dean's breathing steady and even out and thought he was falling asleep. She felt her own heavy eyelids falling and her tired muscles welcomed the velvety comfort of sleep.

But she was startled awake not long after as she heard the bedroom door open and saw Dean walking out. Assuming he was going to the bathroom, it wasn't until she heard the front door open that she sat up and quickly grabbed her pajama shorts off the floor.

She barely got them on in time to run out of the bedroom and out of the front door as Dean turned over the Impala's engine. She ran up to the driver's door.

"Dean what are you doing?" she asked, banging on the window a little frantically, completely at a loss for what was going on and why he was leaving in the middle of the night. She stepped away from the car as he revved the engine, not wanting her bare toes to be run over by the black beast.

But then as he started pulling away she panicked completely and ran out in front of the car forcing Dean to slam on the brakes.

Dean slammed the car into park and pushed open his door. He stood half in and half out of the car.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he yelled at her over the engine's idling rumble. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Julie marched up to his door. "What the fuck are you doing, Dean Winchester?" she yelled back. "Are you insane? You just...I mean we just..." she couldn't find the words without getting them caught in her throat.

She settled on saying, "We were just together like that...and then you just take off into the night, without even a goodbye?" She pushed on the car door, just barely moving him. "What are you thinking?"

Dean's face was harsh. "I'm an asshole and a bastard so I was thinking that I should remove myself from your life. And I was thinking I could do that by going to find a way to get Sammy out. I figured I'd offer a trade." His words were rushed and rambling.

"You know, I mean Cas isn't answering any of my prayers about trying to get Sam out, so maybe there's a demon or two that will want to help, for a price of course, so I figured I'd offer myself up, get Sam out and get me the fuck out of your life."

He slammed the car door closed and walked away, yelling back. "Two birds with one stone, you know?!"

Julie just shook her head. "No, I don't know. I have no idea what's going on in your head right now and it's scaring the crap out of me. And let's also talk about how stupid you'd have to be to try and make more deals with demons!" Julie ended on a roar.

Dean cut across the end of her sentence. "It's not crazy when there are no other options!"

Dean was standing in the middle of the yard, yelling and waving his hands while Julie still stood by Baby and shook her head, completely at a loss.

It was that moment that Bobby came outside. "You two are gonna bring the law down on us if you don't stop all your screamin'. What's goin' on?" He asked, seeming to ignore the fact that he was yelling too.

Dean threw up his hands. "Nothing, Bobby. I'm leaving, just tell your crazy kid to move out of the way so I don't run her over."

But Bobby didn't like the sound of any of that, and he moved quickly to intercept Dean just before he reached the driver's side door.

"Now, calm down, son and tell me what's happening."

But Dean just tried to barrel through and when Bobby wouldn't back down and tried to hold Dean back, the younger man cocked his fist and smashed it into Bobby's mouth.

"Dean!" Julie shouted as she ran forward and crouched down beside Bobby. She looked up at Dean, full of confusion and anger.

Dean seemed momentarily shocked into stillness by Bobby on the ground nursing a split lip and Julie staring up at him, furious and hurt.

But then he just spun away and got into the Impala.

Julie helped Bobby sit up a bit more, as the Impala's tires spun and gravel shot out from underneath. Julie watched heartbroken as it sped away, but then it stopped just outside the "Singer Autos" gates.

The car sat there a minute, before Bobby pushed her toward it. "Go see him. Check on him."

"What? No. I need to help you."

Bobby scoffed and stood up. "It's a split lip, kid. I've had worse."

They both watched the car sit on the other side of the gates a moment before Bobby nodded toward the car and it's driver.

"Go on, darlin'. He needs you."

"He clearly doesn't or he wouldn't have tried to run away right after we..." Julie caught herself too late and looked at Bobby with very flushed cheeks. "I mean..."

Bobby cut her off with a grimace. "I know what you mean, just please stop talking to me about it and go talk to that idjit about it."

Julie reluctantly walked closer to the Impala, thinking with every step that it was going to just drive away.

But it didn't and she reached the driver's side door and looked through the window to see Dean slumped over the steering wheel. Julie banged hard on the window and found some petty satisfaction when he jumped at the sound.

He stared at her through the glass for a moment before he rolled down his window.

Pulling forth all the compassion and patience she possibly could, she spoke calmly. "Dean, for the love of god, shut the car off and come inside."

After a second, Dean cut the rumble of the engine, but made no move to go inside.

"Dean..." Julie began, feeling the patience already wearing thin.

"Can you come here instead?" Dean asked with a nod to the passenger seat.

Julie nodded and walked around to climb into Baby's warm, leathery interior. Silence reigned for quite a while and Julie just let it, trying to give them both time to recover, although since she had no idea what exactly had set Dean off, she couldn't possibly say what would help him calm down.

But time and silence seemed to do the trick because after a while Dean turned to face her with a deeply serious expression.

"Jules, I'm so sorry. I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am for what I did."

Julie shrugged. "Bobby's the one who should hear that apology. It was his lip you broke open."

Dean scowled and shook his head. "I'm not talking about what I did to Bobby, I'm talking about what I did to you."

Julie rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. "Well, it wasn't exactly a good time, but it's hardly the first time you yelled at me, and I was doing a fair amount of yelling back. And I did stupidly jump in front of the car, so it was hardly your fault that you almost hit me."

But before Julie was even halfway through her response Dean was looking at her like she was crazy. "That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about..." he paused and turned his head to look out the windshield. His voice was a whisper when he continued. "I'm talking about the fact that I used you."

Julie saw his jaw clench as he continued. "I used you...used your body as an outlet for my pain, my darkness...I...I'm so sorry."

Julie didn't mean to, she wasn't expecting to, but she just burst out laughing. Dean swung his head back around to face her, confusion furrowing his brow.

Julie tried to tamp down the laughter, but the whole idea was so ludicrous.

She laid one hand on his arm and used the other hand to cover her grin. "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't mean to laugh, but...you used me?" She shook her head. "Dean if you think for one second that I would have allowed you to 'use me' if I didn't want it, boy, you must have forgotten that I learned how to flip you on your ass well over a year ago."

Her expression was challenging him to disagree with her. When he didn't she eased into a smile. "Look, I wanted you as much as you seemed to want me."

Dean shook his head. "I know that, I mean I have no delusions that I ever would or ever could force you into anything. But that's kind of my point. I used your feelings, your desire, your sympathy, I used them to try and..." he stopped and ran a hand through his hair.

"I wanted to hide all the dark things that are swimming around in my head every day, all the time since Sammy's been gone, I wanted to bury them in you. And that's awful."

"No." Julie said slowly, as though trying to explain something to a small child. "It's not awful, it's beautiful." Dean's expression turned completely disbelieving.

"Really." Julie reiterated. "I think it's amazing and wonderful if I can help you find even a few minutes of beauty or light, or whatever you find in me. Even if it's only for the span of a climax." She said, her cheeks getting pink. "I'll give you any amount of peace I can, any way I can give it."

She grinned cheekily. "If it just so happens to also make my eyes roll back in my head and have me screaming in ecstasy, well, even better."

Dean finally lost his frowning seriousness and a slight smile showed through.

Julie shook her head. "Is that why you were leaving?"

Dean shrugged. "It was half of it." He glanced at her. "Two birds with one stone, remember." He ran a hand down his face. "The other half was feeling incredibly guilty that Sam is still suffering while I'm...finding peace and light." He finished, with a tight smile.

Julie sighed. "I told you, you suffering doesn't help Sam in any way."

Dean nodded, "I know. I also know that if I go into another demon deal Sam would be so incredibly disappointed." He waved a hand at their position just beyond the gates. "Which is why I'm stopped here, completely at a loss as to my next step."

Julie decided on boldness and crawled into his lap and straddled his thighs. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and pushed her hands through his incredibly soft hair trying to tame it.

"Your next step is to come back in the house, apologize to Bobby," she gave him a scowl at that, "and then get a few more hours of sleep. So that when we wake up we can start researching properly about how to get Sam out."

Dean seemed surprised. "You're not going to tell me that this was Sam's decision and he knew the consequences, and that it's too dangerous to try and get him out."

Julie shrugged. "All of those things are true, but if you don't care about them, I don't care about them. We will find a way to bring Sam home. I promise."

She leaned forward for another gentle kiss, but Dean grabbed both her cheeks in his hands and held her in place so he could lick up into her mouth and pull on her tongue with his lips, moaning softly into her mouth.

When he pulled back they were both breathing heavy, so harshly in fact that Julie almost missed Dean's next whispered words.

"God, I love you."

Julie sucked in a breath. "What?" she asked quietly, afraid he'd try to retract the statement.

But he just smiled softly. "So much, Jules. So much."

His next kiss was much more gentle, but also drawn out, turning into neck kisses and collarbone kisses before a thumping on the roof made them jump apart.

"I'm glad to see you two made up, but how about you pull yourselves away from each other's mouths and come back inside and tell me what the hell is goin' on."

With that Bobby wandered back toward the house and Dean smiled gently at Julie, slightly abashed.

"Do you think he knows we slept together in your childhood bedroom?"

Julie nodded. "Yeah, he definitely does - I kind of accidentally told him." She grimaced playfully. "Sorry!"

Dean shrugged and smiled. "Well, it's okay. He owes me a punch in the mouth anyway."

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[luimagines]

In lieu of what happened yesterday with Wolfie... may I raise you with Bunny Legend?

He despises the form. Why, of all the things he could have been, had to be a bunny? A tiger or even a dog would have been better than that a fluffy, weak... pink mammal! It's not fair that Twilight get a cool one instead of him, which is completely stupid since he is one of the oldest, and far more seasoned in salt of the group. On top of that, how dare he stealing your attention like that!? How is he supposed to make a move if Twilight is always hanging around you as Wolfie? He wants you to be the only one to hear how he feels about you...

...And, maybe, is also because he is terrified of you turning him down, the ache in his heart would be worse than a stab with Twilight watching him get rejected...

But this is why he have been named as the "Veteran" and not something else; he has dealt with a lot of situation before with far less objects at his reach to help him, but he always manages to get through it. He's very cunning and is quick to think on his feet...

...Or at least, almost all of the time he is. Erring is most common when you aren't at your most calm, isn't it?

Legend admits that he acted out of desperation: you had him at his wits end! But it's hard to feel frustrated with himself when you are nuzzling your face on top of his head, little squeaks of happiness and a high pitch voice while you baby talked to him, gussing about his very soft fur and really cute vest. You even called him handsome! You never do that when he is in his human form, you don't even spare him a glance when he rolls his sleeves, making a big of a show of flexing his arms, stretching out and pushing out his chest and arms back, all so you can see how muscular he, too, is. But the only thing you do is oogle at Twilight-- as if he isn't enough of a menace to him-- and that idiot of Mr. Captain when they wrestle together, shirtless. He just wants your pretty eyes on him, those plump lips, cherry from how you are bitting them, shamelessly devouring the two men with your gaze...

...Ugh, just pay attention to him, okay!? He will shower you with all the love and adoration you deserve and more! So please, direct that intensity to him, and only him.

A poke to his furrowed brows broke him out of his mind. Legend cautiously looks up at you. He mentally kicks himself as he is met with your worried eyes, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel any type of negative emotions, so that glint spurred him on rubbing his furred cheek on your free open palm, wanting to change the expression out of your face. It seem to work, you opened your eyes more and even giggled a little before scratching under his chin with two of your fingers.

"Got lost for a second there, buddy?" You whisper. Even if your tone was soft, the vibrations travelled from your chest pressed against the back of his small form engulfing it in a warm and pleasant feeling.

Legend closed his eyes and let all of his weight rest on you, not that you minded, of course. Being the sunshine that you are, you giggled cutely once more and tugged him closer to you, to the point of almost being curled around him. It was a rare sensation; he felt protected for once instead of being the one providing said feeling, he must admit that it was quite comforting, but Legend will forego ever feeling like this again in exchange of you being safe forever, you will always be his priority.

"Hmm..." you pecked his head. "Y'know, you remind me of someone that I like a lot"

His long ears fell flat on either side of his head as his heart stilled.

Like a lot...?

You... already have someone that you hold dear?

You seem to miss how his body grow stiff between your arms as you continued in drowning him in affection. What used to be a delightfull experience, now, it hurts him more than any wound he have ever sustained in his life, more than any burn from fire lizards or the cold, prickly bite of exhaustion of his tired body as he dragged himself through every and more corners of Hyrule.

Your hands played with the small tuff of fur on his head, but Legend's mind was far too gone to properly feel the touch. In its place, his heart dropped and shattered, somehow still beating as he felt the fastening Thumping in his stomach. How foolish and naive of him, to ever believe that he got an opportunity with you. Even the people that you two are travelling with can barely stand him, and they are supposed to be the same person.

Is he really that despicable?

"It's actually funny."

Funny how stupid he is, isn't he?

"He came back a few nights ago, very upset."

Well, that guy clearly doesn't now a thing about suffering. He isn't the one getting his heart demolish while in the arms of the love of his life like him.

You pinched the tip of his left ear and softly lifted it up. "He came back with his hair the same shade of pink that you have! In my opinion" you lean down a Little, as if you were about to share a secret "He looks very cute like that. A shame He will never let me say that to his face..."

Pink? Like the rose tinted glasses he have been wearing all this time-- Uh? Hair?

Are you... Please, don't give him hope like that. He can't take another loss in his life, because if you don't mean it, he would be devastated for good.

He felt your body shifting a little before you let go of him to instead hook your hands under his armpits, slowly lifting him up then turning around his body so now the two of you can be face to face. His tiny nose twitched as you leaned in a poked the tip of your own nose to his pink one, rubbing a little before you leaned back again. Legend layed his pawns on top of your chest, eagerly following your movements when he saw you opening your mouth to continue, he didn't want to miss anything that you are about to say:

"He is a big dork, with an even bigger ego. Very handsome too and... Ugh, Legend, why you have to be such a cactus all the time?" You finished with a tinge of frustration in your voice.

In a normal scenario, he would have argued about that last statement, but he couldn't because of two good reasons: one, he is still in his dark world form, it would be very weird if this bunny you found in the Forrest acted as if it was personally insulted by your words. And second...

You actually like him.

Him, With all of his flaws and bad attitude, you still found and assigned a space in your heart for only him, Legend.

Just as how down he got, his spirit raised up again with vigor, his heart soared from the dark pit of grief that held it a couple of minutes ago taking its rightful place at the peak of the shrine dedicated to your whole being. He didn't even noticed that his skin was ice cold until a burst of heat shot from his feet to the tip of his ears that acted as a catalyst as he threw himself towards your chest, his body felt light as a feathe, he tried his best to fight off the desire to laugh or shout out this waves of overwhelming energies.

Oh, how your chuckles were like the tunes from the most rich instrument in the entire universe being played by the goddesses themselves, more revitalizing than any potion or fairy pond.

"Do you think I should say something, buddy?" You returned his hug.

Legend furiously nodded his head, not think if it will appear weird that he could understand you. You squeezed the tiny bunny between your arms before putting him at arms length:

"Thank you, buddy. Somehow, now I have the confidence to talk to that prickly bitch--"

"--A PRICKLY WHAT???"

...Uh oh.

Even the common noises of the Forrest fell silent at his outburst.

Legend didn't had a second to try and amend his mistake as, suddenly, his vision was thrown into a spiral; everything looked blurry and the wind on his fur was a clear indicator of how hard you launched him away from you. He felt slightly proud at you quick reaction time but...

...No amount of fur can soften the crash on the hard forrest floor, just his luck that he didn't fell on the conveniently batch of dry leaves right beside him. It hurt, not as how bad his heart was hurting, but painful nonetheless.

He just really hopes you won't tell the group about the weird, pink bunny that can talk, or else he won't ever heard the end of it from Sky and Twilight.

-----------

AND IT'S DONE CKSKFJEJCUC IT TOOK ME A LOT OF TIME JUST TO SAY "Legend tried to pull a Twilight and got yeeted out of existence"

I think that Legend has self esteem problems! With what happened in A Link to the past, it's hard to overcome a whole nation hating your guts when you only wanted to help.

You really just said "If no one will provide me with Legend simpage, I'll do it myself"

I'm grinning so much right now. I ended up biting my lip a bit harder than I intended to because I almost screamed at the end when he finally spoke up.

The whole time I was like "But Legend can speak? Why is that not- Oh that's why."

Also, describing how Legend tries to peacock as he stretches to catch the Reader's attention *chef's kiss*.

[chaos-burst]

direction to perfection

Dorian fought his parents to be here.

He fought tooth and nail to be allowed to live in a dorm, so there is no way he can back down from this decision. It’s his first shot at freedom and being normal and doing something for himself instead of his family.

Dorian will not back down.

He will persevere.

“Harder, come on!”

Loud moaning and the creaking of an old mattress accompany the dull thudding that comes from inside of his room. The room he’s currently standing in front of.

“I’m so close, so close, so close—“

Dorian stares at the door. His face is hot and he stands frozen in place as he tries to decide what to do. He needs his lute for the next bard class. He also needs to be far away from this room.

Gods, most of all he needs a new roommate.

“Oh, fuck, just like that—ah—“

Dorian closes his eyes and hides his face in his hands.

He was so proud after he finally convinced his parents to let him stay here. When he first entered his room he wasn’t even concerned about how small it was, or how his roommate’s bed was so close to his that stretching both their arms out would result in them touching hands.

And then he met Dariax, the guy he’s supposed to be living with for a long time.

“Dorian, are you literally standing here listening to Dariax bang someone inside of your room?”, Opal’s voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to look at her. She must see the desperation on his face because the next moment she gives him a pointed look before hammering her fist on the door.

“What the fuck, guys! Rent a room! And hurry up, Dorian needs his stuff!”

Dorian feels mortification creep from his face down into his stomach as he hears a loud thump, a shriek and a curse. The fact that Dariax knows that Dorian has been standing here makes him go through the five stages of grief so quickly that he can feel his insides churn.

Opal turns to face him and gives him a stern stop-putting-up-with-this look before she stalks away, twirling her dagger in her hand.

Dorian wishes it were that easy to voice what he wants.

To be sure of himself.

To live unashamed and free.

Sadly, his current repertoire covers none of these things.

The door gets yanked open and Dorian finds himself face to face with a white, half-elven woman wrapped in a bed sheet, her hair a complete and utter, blonde mess, her purple lipstick smeared across her left cheek.

“I was so close!”, she hisses as she holds up her index finger and thumb to indicate the fact that Dorian just ruined her earth-shattering orgasm.

“I—uh. I’m so—“

“Dorian! Gosh, I’m so sorry, I forgot that you had class, buddy!”

The half-elven woman throws Dorian the nastiest stink-eye and rushes down the corridor in nothing but the bedsheet wrapped around her. Dorian has no idea why she would do that, but Dariax distracts him.

Dariax, who is completely naked, his lips covered in purple lipstick, his cheeks flushed and his hair standing up from his head.

For decency, he’s holding a bottle of wine to cover his crotch.

Dorian wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“I—uh. Sorry to disturb the—ah. Fun? I just. I just need to grab my lute real quick”, he says weakly, rushes over to his bed and grabs the lute leaning against the wall beside it.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, buddy, I’ll just go jack off in the shower, it’s no biggie.”

Dorian stares at Dariax who grins at him, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say to someone in this situation.

“Sure. Have fun”, he croaks, his cheeks still flaming, and flees out of the room and down the hallway.

Dorian fought so hard to be here but gods, he wishes he were somewhere else right now.

The class he’s attending is one of his favorites—one that covers Bardic Inspiration as a form of self-expression, but it takes him a while to cool down from the mortifying ordeal of having Dariax as his roommate.

They’ve been living together for almost three months now and it’s not like it’s all bad.

Hell, Dorian likes Dariax.

He’s funny, doesn’t take himself too seriously, he tells ridiculous, entertaining stories and is loyal to a fault. But he’s also extroverted in a way that makes Dorian go insane. There is no moment of silence when Dariax is in the room—because Dariax hates silence. He also brings back so many different people to their room without asking Dorian first. Not all of them are Dariax’ lovers—at least not as far as he knows.

But they’re always loud, always messy and always completely oblivious to Dorian’s social cues.

Opal keeps ranting about how Dorian needs to reinforce his boundaries, but Dorian has no idea how to do that. Never in a million years would he bang on the door of his room if he knows that Dariax is having sex in there. Opal is always so loud and unapologetic about everything—Dorian envies her for it.

Dorian has never kissed anyone. Or had sex. Or anything in between these things. How the fuck both Dariax and Opal know exactly what they like and who they like is beyond him.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”, a soft voice says right next to him and Dorian is ripped out of thoughts and into reality. The class has been going for an hour and there’s someone standing next to him he’s never seen before.

She’s definitely some sort of fey—the whole lower half of her body is goat-like and her long ears are drooping. The amount of ribbons her dress is supporting is truly astounding and there is a whole crown of poisonous flowers on top of her head that she wears like a crown. Dorian blinks before catching himself.

“Ah—no. Please”, he says and gestures at the empty chair next to him.

The faun sits down carefully and watches as she carefully places a panflute on her thighs.

“Which bard college do you specialize in?”, Dorian asks.

“Hm? Oh, I’m not a bard. I’m majoring in druid. I just like to make music”, she answers with a smile.

Dorian never considered just taking classes that have nothing to do with his major. Maybe it would be something his parents would disapprove of even more than they did of his bard major and his choice to sleep in a dorm.

“I’m Fearne, by the way”, she adds and nods her heads slightly. A single leaf falls from her head and onto her panflute.

“Dorian”, he answers. Fearne smiles at him.

“You have very pretty hair”, she says.

“Oh. Ah—thank you? You—you too. Your hair, I mean. It’s—uh. Very green.”

Fearne’s smile widens.

“Thank you!”, she says in a tone that suggests that this might be the compliment she’s ever received. Dorian on the other hand wishes he could bite off his tongue. Your hair is very green. What kind of compliment is that? It’s no wonder that he didn’t have any chance to kiss anyone yet if this is all that he can come up with.

Dorian turns around and tries to concentrate on the professor’s lecture but his mind keeps wandering. He takes only a few notes and as he looks over at Fearne he sees that she’s doodling all sorts of mushrooms into her notebook. Then there is a small screech coming directly from her bag.

The class falls silent and everyone turns to look in their direction.

“What was that?”, professor Brooke asks with a confused look on his face. “I don’t remember any familiar registrations for this class.”

Dorian looks at Fearne who turns her head to look around at all the people staring in their direction.

“That was just me”, Fearne says and points to herself. “I ate too much pudding for breakfast.”

Professor Brooke looks embarrassed and very apologetic.

“I’m sorry, dear. Let’s continue then.”

As the lecture continues, Dorian leans over to Fearne.

“Didn’t that come out of your bag?”, he wants to know. Fearne shoots him a sly smile and gently lifts the flap of her green bag. Dorian stares at a small monkey peeking up at him with weirdly glowing eyes. Then the monkey raises his index finger to his mouth as if trying to tell Dorian to shut up.

Fearne closes the bag.

“That’s just Little Mister. He’s my… friend.”

“I see”, Dorian says.

He supposes that this is what he left home for—to meet all sorts of people, learn about all kinds of different things that he would never get in touch with while under his parents’ wings.

So Dorian decides to simply accept that some people are friends with monkeys and carry them around in bags.

If he can manage to live with someone like Dariax, he sure as hell won’t judge someone for bringing an animal companion to class.

After another fifteen minutes, Fearne leans over to Dorian again.

“I don’t understand this concept that the professor is talking about.”

“Oh, they explained it in the first half hour, before you got here.”

“Oh, I see. I was late”, Fearne says and looks disappointed, as if she was only now realizing this.

“Uh—yeah. Like, half an hour.”

“Time is kind of hard, you know. It’s like—it’s like this weird soup. And I don’t think I really have it memorized how to read clocks.”

Dorian stares at her.

“So. Are you not from here?”, he asks and groans internally at his phrasing. Fearne doesn’t seem to mind, though. She nods gratefully as Dorian pushes over his notes so she can look at them.

“No, not really. I come from the Feywild. We don’t really have clocks.”

“Because… time is a weird soup.”

“Yeah, exactly. Is that a saying here, too?”, she asks, her ears turning towards him full of excitement.

“Ah—no. I don’t think it is. Not here, at least.”

“Well, now you know it.”

Dorian nods and watches as Fearne studies his notes to copy some of them down into her notebook. He tries to imagine a world without clocks and immediately gets anxious at the prospect of always being late.

In the last twenty minutes of the lecture, they actually get to play their instruments.

“You play beautifully”, Fearne says after listening to Dorian play for a few minutes.

“Thank you! Your music is really different from what I know. It’s interesting.”

Fearne beams at him.

“Maybe we could make some music together some time?”, she asks.

“I would like that, yeah.”

*

Dorian isn’t bad at making friends, he’s just not as good or fast at it as Dariax. Maybe that’s because he’s a little more selective about the people he hangs out with, but Dariax just seems to consider everyone he talked to more than once his friend.

Dorian never really had friends growing up, so he doesn’t consider himself an expert. But at least for him Dariax’ way doesn’t seem to be all that great.

So when Dariax asks: “Hey, do you wanna come hang out with me and my friends tonight?” Dorian feels less than inclined to say yes.

“Uh—I already have plans”, he lies, trying to figure out if he should try to convince Opal to spend the evening with him or if he should just take this opportunity to have some peace and quiet in his room.

“Aw, man. Too bad. We wanted to go skinny dipping in the gym’s pool”, Dariax says.

“Isn’t that off limits at night?”, Dorian asks, his brow furrowed as he looks at Dariax’ face that breaks into a wide grin.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s fun to go there”, he answers and winks at Dorian. Dorian feels his cheeks grow hot and swallows as his intestines suddenly feel the need to writhe around like living snakes.

“Oh, well—I’m not really a—uh. A rebel boy, as they say”, he says and laughs nervously. “You go and have fun, though.”

He tries not to picture Dariax completely naked in the dim, shimmering light of the campus’ pool but he fails miserably. His palms start sweating.

“Oh, don’t worry, I will, I will. But hey, maybe next time!”

“Uh—yeah. Maybe”, Dorian says weakly as Dariax saunters out of their room and closes the door behind him. Dorian stares at the locked door for way too long and he’s endlessly glad that no one can see him.

This doesn’t seem like a normal thing to invite someone to. When he went to college to learn how to be a bard, he envisioned parties, maybe some illegal weed smoking on a restricted rooftop, at the most.

He did not envision to be asked to get butt naked, break into a gym with a pool at night and go swimming with a bunch of—probably drunk—strangers he doesn’t even know the names of.

That was, of course, before he got Dariax as a roommate.

Now Dorian feels like he should be prepared for anything.

As Dorian grabs his lute and sinks down onto his bed he wonders if Fearne lives on campus or if she lives in the Feywild and somehow manages to travel here for every class that she has. That would explain the time thing, he supposes, because he learned that time works differently on other planes.

This is the first evening in what feels like weeks that he has the room just to himself. In between the pieces he plays on his lute he simply sits on the bed, enjoying the silence. When he opens the window the cool breeze from outside reminds him of home and he closes his eyes for a little while.

It smells like rain and autumn outside. Dorian turns to look at the small room that’s his now. It’s nothing compared to the big, bright room he had at home, but it feels special simply because this is the first time he gets to do what he wants with a space without anyone breathing down his neck.

There’s not much in the room aside from their desks, beds and the closet they share, but Dorian pinned a few posters and postcards over his bed for the very first time. His bed is unmade—something that his parents would have never allowed—and there are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling that he actually picked out himself.

The desk is covered in sheet music and books and for a few seconds Dorian looks at the small picture of his brother and himself that is sticking to his pencil holder, before turning his gaze at some of the articles he printed out yesterday.  

He might actually get some homework done in this blessed quiet.

At least that’s what he thinks until his phone rings.

At some point Dariax must’ve stolen Dorian’s phone and taken a selfie to make it pop up every time he calls Dorian, because as his phone lights up Dorian can see Dariax’ dopey smile appear. Dorian ignores the rush of heat he feels as he looks down at the glowing display, reaches for his phone and picks up the call.

“Dariax?”

“Dorian, hey buddy!”

He definitely sounds drunk, which doesn’t surprise Dorian. But there’s an edge to his voice that makes Dorian nervous.

“What’s up, Dariax?”

“I—uh. Remember how I told you that we were going to go skinny dipping in the gym and everything?”

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten. It was like, three hours ago.”

“Cool, yeah. So the guys—“, and Dorian wonders who exactly ‘the guys’ are supposed to be, “were in a real funny mood. So. They stole my clothes and locked me in here—“

“They what?”

“I know, right? So… I tried to break open the lock, but I might be a little too drunk to get it right. And I was wondering—could you maybe bring me some clothes and get that door open for me?”

Dorian stares out into the night.

“How do you have your phone if they took all your stuff?”, he asks weakly.

“Had it with me in the pool to take some underwater selfies. It’s waterproof”, Dariax supplies cheerfully.

Dorian can see lights in the buildings all over campus and a crescent moon in the sky. He tries not to imagine what kind of pictures Dariax was trying to take of himself. Naked. In a pool.

“You want me to break open a door”, he repeats, just in case he misheard.

“I mean, kinda? Maybe? I really don’t wanna sleep in here. I slept in worse places, but it seems kinda shitty to wake up and immediately get into trouble for trespassing and all of that…”

Dorian isn’t sure if he wants to know in what kind of places Dariax has slept that count as worse as a college gym’s pool.

“But I guess I could just sleep in the showers or something.”

“I don’t really know how to get locks open”, Dorian sighs, but he’s already walking over to their shared closet. In theory, Dariax’ half is on the left, but he insists on just throwing all of his clothes in there without actually caring about which side they land on, so Dorian grabs some jeans, a hoodie and some underwear and stuffs it into his bag. He tries very hard not to look at the underwear too closely.

Dariax might not know what privacy is but that doesn’t mean that Dorian has to stoop down to the same level as his roommate.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do”, he huffs.

“Aw, fuck yeah, you’re the best. I lo—“

“Bye”, Dorian calls and hangs up hastily before Dariax can finish.

His dreams of a quiet night dissipate into smoke as he throws the bag over his shoulder, grabs his keys, his jacket and his phone and leaves the room to head towards the gym.

Dorian, never in his life, has tried to open a lock with anything other than the key that was supposed to go into it. He doubts that he would manage to learn it in the heat of a moment so as he walks through the night, passing under a lantern every few steps he takes, he considers what he can do to get a locked door to open.

He is not strong enough to pry it open.

He has never learned how to do that trick with a credit card and isn’t sure if it would even work on this door even if he knew how.

There is no spell he knows that would be useful to open a door.

The only thing Dorian is good at is music and talking to people.

He makes his decision as he heads for the closest security guard patrolling campus at night.

“Excuse me, hi”, he says with the most honest and simultaneously nervous smile he can muster. The young man looks him up and down and seems to come to the conclusion that Dorian is worthy of his attention because his body turns towards him and offers a small smile back. He’s white withshort, brown hair, a long nose and arms full of tattoos.

“Can I help you?”, he asks.

“Well—this is so embarrassing. I—uh. I was in the gym earlier and I forgot my phone in there and my girlfriend wanted to call me tonight and I—uh. I already missed the last call so…”

He trails off as he tries to looks as bashful and stressed as he can—something that isn’t hard because Dorian still has to think about how Dariax is naked and probably dripping wet and how they’re most likely going to get into so much damn trouble.

“Oh wow, that sucks”, the security guard says and Dorian nods.

“Yeah, I’m—this is so dumb, I know you have better things to do, but… If you could just let me sneak in there for a minute and grab my phone? That would be a total life-saver, man”, he says and brings his hands up in front of his chest in a pleading gesture.

“Well, I guess we can make an exception. Don’t want to be the cause for trouble in paradise, right?”, he answers with a smile and Dorian forces himself to laugh.

“Thanks so much, I’ll drop off some cookies next time I see you around”, Dorian says and the security guard chuckles and makes a joke about bribery that Dorian doesn’t actually find funny but laughs about anyway. Since he officially ‘lost’ his phone he has no idea how to let Dariax know what his plan is.

All Dorian can do is hope that Dariax isn’t standing right behind the door butt-naked. Dorian supposes that he could always claim not to know him then—something that would only hold up for so long.

They walk towards the gym and Dorian can feel his heartbeat picking up.

What if he gets suspended? Kicked out? Sent home?

When they arrive in front of the gym everything is silent. Dariax is not banging on the door from the inside, calling Dorian’s name. Dorian decides to take that as a win as he nervously watches the guard fiddle for the master-key before opening the door.

“So, where did you leave your phone?”, the guard asks him and Dorian looks around hastily to see if he can spot Dariax anywhere.

“Uh—over on the benches, I’ll be right back!”, he says with an apologetic smile before rushing through the gym and towards the benches on the other side of the building.

“Dariax!”, he hisses into the darkness towards the corridor that leads to the locker-room and the pool.

“Hey bu—“

“Pscht. There’s a guard there. I had him open the door, you have to sneak out!”

Dorian starts crouching down on the floor and drops his bag so Dariax can reach it. He’s peaking his head out of the dark corridor and Dorian hopes that the security guard doesn’t spot him as he reaches his arm out towards the bag with Dariax’ clothes inside it.

“Did you find it?”, the guard calls over and Dorian can hear his footsteps coming closer. He hastily fishes for his phone and slides it under one of the benches.

“Not yet, it’s pretty dark in here”, he says. The rustling in the corridor next to him tells him that Dariax is hastily getting dressed.

“I have a flashlight, one sec”, the guard says and crouches down next to Dorian who feels bad for lying to the poor guy. He’s so friendly and forthcoming—Dorian decides that he actually has to get this man some cookies.

“Oh, there it is!”, he says and points to the left as the light of the torch reaches his phone.

“I’m afraid my arms too short to reach that”, the guard says and scoots back so Dorian can extent his arm and grab his phone. He tries hard not to look behind him to check if Dariax already made it out or not. He gets up, stuffs the phone into his pocket and dusts off his pants before turning towards the guard with an embarrassed smile.

“Man, thank you so much, this is really clutch.”

“No problem. I hope it works out with your girlfriend”, he answers and leads Dorian back towards the door.

“Thanks. If I see you again I’ll keep you posted!”

They step outside into the cool night air and Dorian can’t see Dariax anywhere. His heart is still beating rapidly in his chest and his palms are terribly sweaty. He wipes them off on his pants and decides that he needs a hot shower and his warm bed after this terrible disaster. His body feels as if he just ran a marathon.

So much for a quiet, peaceful night.

As soon as the guard leaves Dorian looks around frantically. If Dariax didn’t make it outside, there’s no way Dorian can convince this guy to open the gym up again without telling him the truth—something Dorian desperately does not want to do.

“Hey, over here!”

Dorian turns around and sees Dariax waving out of one of the bushes. His hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, his face is flushed and his eyes glassy, but he has a wide, reckless smile on his face that makes Dorian’s heart leap into his throat and press on his windpipe.

“What the fuck, man?”, Dorian hisses as he walks over to Dariax who gets up now, slightly swaying on his feet. There are some yellow leaves stuck in his auburn hair.

“Damn, buddy, that was awesome! You seriously have a velvet tongue, how did you even do that?”

“I asked nicely. What the actual fuck, Dariax? Why did your friends think that was a good idea?”

Dariax looks at him sheepishly and shrugs.

“Ah—to tell you the truth, I don’t know.”

“Sounds like they were fucking you over”, Dorian says and starts walking back towards the dorm. Some fine mist hangs between the trees, which look mostly black except for those who reach into the light of the street lamps. The orange and brown colored leaves remind Dorian of Dariax’ hair.

“Yeah. Sounds like it, huh.”

Dariax is quiet after that, something which Dorian, for some reason, finds even more disturbing than hearing Dariax’ sex-noises through a locked door.

“You okay?”, he asks after two minutes of walking in silence.

Dariax turns to look at him and the smile that appears on his face doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. You know how it is, people just fuck you over. That’s how it works, I guess.”

“It doesn’t have to work like this”, Dorian says, his brow furrowed and his hands itchy to reach out and tussle Dariax’ wet hair for comfort. He doesn’t even know if Dariax wants to be comforted. Or wants to be comforted by Dorian specifically.

Dorian doesn’t even know why he feels the need to comfort Dariax, seeing as to how it’s his own fault for getting into such a situation in the first place.

“Hm, maybe. But I guess you showed up to save the day”, Dariax says, looking at Dorian thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I didn’t fuck you over”, Dorian agrees and holds open the door for them as they reach the dorm.

“Yeah. You didn’t. Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

*

The security guard’s name is Orym, he knows Fearne from taking some druid classes on the side on top of his fighter classes and he enjoys blueberry muffins.

“So, how did it go with your girlfriend?”, he asks while chewing on the muffin that Dorian handed him a few moments ago.  

“We broke up”, Dorian replies with a gravelly voice and Orym pulls a face.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks again for helping me with my phone.”

“It’s no problem at all. Thank you for this muffin.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you around.”

*

Dorian is pleased to find that the steady trickle of loud people that Dariax used to invite to their room before is thinning. He still goes out drinking and partying a lot, and he still has guests over to play Mario Kart or some horrible drinking game, but overall Dorian’s having more peace and quiet than ever before since he moved into this room with Dariax.

On a Wednesday night Dariax is sprawled out on his bed flipping through his phone. Dorian wonders if he’s going through his contacts, considering whom to call on for some. Well. Drinking or sex, probably.

Dorian hopes it’s not sex. And if it is sex, then for sex that is supposed to happen far away from here.

“How come you never go out?”, Dariax wants to know.

Dorian looks up from the sheet music he’s working on. He’s humming along quietly as he writes down, erases, writes down again and corrects the song he’s trying to write. He finds that he actually likes working in companionable silence, even though he didn’t think this would be possible with Dariax as his roommate a few weeks ago.

Dariax doesn’t seem to mind not talking as long as there is some sort of sound in the room—and Dorian’s humming apparently counts.

“How do you mean? I go out all the time”, Dorian says and looks up from his paper, cocking his head to regard Dariax who’s head is now hanging off of the side of the bed so he looks back at Dorian upside down.

“Yeah but like, partying. Drinking. College stuff, you know. You just hang out with the scary lady and she seems to like partying.”

“First of all, her name’s Opal. And I guess she can be kind of scary, but only if you’re a dick. And second of all, I hang out with other people! I met this very nice faun in my bard class and we’re making music from time to time. And—I don’t know. Partying is just not. Uh... It’s just not...”

Dorian sighs and leans against the wall behind him. The room is so scrappy that some of the wallpaper is coming down in little flakes in some places. He absentmindedly starts picking at his pillow.

“I never really went to parties before coming here. It’s just. I don’t know. New. I’m not like you. You know, with all the drinking and partying and—and uh. Sex. I guess.”

He can feel his ears burning and his cheeks heating up as he mumbles the end of his sentence. Dariax blinks at him and drops his phone on his face.

“Ow, fuck—okay. Wait. Are you saying that you’re a party-virgin and an actual virgin?”

“Oh come on, man, why do you have to say it like that? I’ve been to parties! But not—you know? College parties! And I never really drank alcohol before. It seems... I don’t know. Shifty.”

“Shifty”, Dariax repeats and a shit-eating grin spreads over his face, lighting up his eyes with a shimmer of mischief that Dorian finds very disconcerting.

“So you are a virgin.”

Dorian throws his pencil at Dariax and misses.

“So what? There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin! We can’t all walk around like you sleeping with people left and right!”

Dariax chuckles, obviously pleased with himself.

“Very true, I’m one of a kind. So, okay. But you kissed people, right?”, he wants to know.

“Why is that even relevant?”, Dorian hisses. He decides to throw his pillow next and Dariax almost falls off the bed trying to dodge it as he laughs.

“It’s not, I’m just curious! You’re always super uptight and mysterious, I know shit all about you and you’ve basically seen me banging someone at least twice!”

Dorian tries and fails to keep his poise as he flails his arms around.

“I could’ve lived happily without having seen any of that!”

“So that means you never kissed anyone?”, Dariax asks again, his grin wide and his eyebrows offensively wiggling. Dorian wishes he had some sort of cake that he could press Dariax’ face into.

“No, never. Are you happy now?”

“Would you like to kiss someone?”, Dariax wants to know and leans forward on the bed. He seems to have decided that sitting upright is the better choice in case Dorian decides to throw something else at him.

“I—I mean. I don’t know? I haven’t found the right person to kiss yet!”

“Ah, you’re one of those guys”, Dariax says with a wise nod that drives Dorian up the walls.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know? Like a romantic. True love and shit.”

“I wouldn’t—I. I haven’t really thought about it much. It’s not that important to me.”

Dariax pulls a face and nods, as if he understands perfectly what it means to not much care about kissing, sex or relationships. Dorian doubts that he actually understands with the frequency in which he drags people into his bed.

“I guess it’s not bad to wait for someone special”, Dariax concedes with a lopsided smile. “My first kiss was a total disaster, I didn’t know what I was doing at all and the dude told me it was like kissing a bowl of rice pudding.”

Dorian stares at him.

“That’s such a horrible thing to say”, he answers and Dariax shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess. He could’ve been nicer about it.”

Dorian’s brain is reeling.

Dariax had his first kiss with a guy. Dariax doesn’t only like women.

“Oh gods, I wish you hadn’t told me”, Dorian groans and presses the palms of his hands on his eyes until he sees little, colorful specs dancing on the inside of his eyelids. “What if I kiss someone I actually like and it turns out to be a completely terrible?”

He lowers his hands and stares at Dariax who stares back at Dorian with an intensity that surprises him.

“I mean. I guess you could just practice”, Dariax says.

“Oh yeah, sure. I’ll ask the first random person I meet in the hallway—“

“I would do it. Practice with you, I mean.”

Dorian blinks. He can feel the heat rising in his face and knows that his cheeks are turning purple.

“I—uh. That’s. Well. That’s very kind of you. But I’ll—I guess I’ll just figure it out on my own.”

Dorian chuckles nervously and glances back at Dariax who looks at him for a second longer before flopping back down onto his bed.

“Sure thing, buddy”, he says quietly and it’s probably just Dorian’s imagination that he sounds a bit disappointed.

*

“Dorian. Hey, Dorian!”

Dariax’ voice cuts through a dream about flying through space naked and Dorian opens his eyes. He is met with darkness and turns his head over to look towards Dariax’ side of the room. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust and the confusion and sleep to drain out of him.

“Huh?”

“Hey, sorry. I—uh. I kinda had—I kinda had a nightmare?”

“Sorry to hear that”, Dorian rasps and rubs at his eyes, “was it the one about the giant dwarven woman again?”

“Ah, no. Not this time. I—uh. Do you mind maybe just… I don’t know. Talking to me a little? Or, ah—humming? I would scoot over but your bed is probably a bit too small”, Dariax rambles and laughs nervously.

Dorian is too tired to get flustered about the prospect of cuddling with his roommate.

“You can scoot over. But don’t hog the blanket”, he mumbles and makes room in his tiny bed, pressing his back against the wall and lifting his blanket up, his eyes already falling shut again.

“Oh fuck yeah”, he hears Dariax whisper. There’s a rustling, the sound of naked feet on a wooden floor and then the mattress dips and Dariax climbs into bed with him, his body way warmer than Dorian expected it to be.

He’s wearing nothing but boxers.

“You sure this is okay?”, Dariax whispers into the dark and Dorian makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat before letting the blanket fall down over Dariax. His arms simply drops which is probably way too close to a hug in this position as they lie face to face on the mattress that was not made for two people to sleep on it.

“Thanks a lot, buddy. You’re the best”, Dariax whispers. Dorian knows that Dariax is pretty dense simply because he’s a dwarf, but while he drifts back off to sleep he feels the tension in Dariax’ body. This nightmare must have been deeply upsetting for someone as carefree and jovial as Dariax to ask for goddamn snuggles in the middle of the night.

Dorian starts humming. It’s faint and definitely not his best and probably not even a real song, but slowly, ever so slowly, he can feel Dariax relax beside him as they both fall asleep again.

What his sleepy brain did not account for when Dorian allowed Dariax entry into his bed was how they might wake up in completely different positions to the ones they fell asleep in and how his body was a mean betrayer set out to humiliate Dorian.

As he slowly comes back to consciousness Dorian realizes how incredibly warm it is. The next thing he notices is that there is a quietly snoring dwarf pressed against his side, one leg pushed over Dorian’s legs. Dariax, sometime during the night, has curled into Dorian so his nose is now pressed somewhere close to Dorian’s ribs. He can feel Dariax’ hot breath tickle his exposed skin.

This is the most skin-on-skin contact Dorian has ever had with someone who is not related to him.

Dariax’ arm is curled around his waist and Dorian has no idea how he’ll be able to get to the bathroom without waking Dariax up or alerting him to the fact that Dorian is suffering a terrible case of a morning boner.

Yeah, he definitely didn’t think this through when he allowed Dariax in here. If Dariax pulls his leg up a little more his thigh will absolutely come in contact with Dorian’s dick and he is not ready for that to happen.

Not even a little bit.

Dorian can’t help but notice that Dariax smells kind of nice. And the feeling of naked skin on naked skin feels so much better than he imagined it would. He should probably not think about skin on skin contact too much in his current predicament but Dariax decides that this is the right moment to move his leg.

Dorian makes an undignified noise in the back of his throat as Dariax’ thigh rubs against his erection and before he can really consider what his best course of action might be, he’s already shoving Dariax off of him.

Since these beds are tiny, that also means shoving Dariax off the bed.

There is loud thunk as Dariax hits the floor and bolts upright with a yelp, his hair tousled and untidy, his eyes barely open.

“I didn’t do it!”, he slurs loudly, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender and Dorian can’t help but wonder what in the nine hells Dariax has been dreaming about.

“Sorry, man. You were—uh. Getting a little close”, Dorian says and sits up, carefully pulling the blanket over his crotch.

Dariax blinks up at him.

“Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”, he mumbles and sways to his feet to stumble back over to his own bed.

Dorian immediately misses the warmth and the feeling of naked skin against his but he pushes the thought away and clears his throat.

“Did you sleep okay after your nightmare?”, he asks.

“Hmhm. Like a baby”, Dariax mumbles into his pillow. His face is pressed into it and he didn’t even take the take to cover himself with his blanket. “You have the most beautiful voice.”

Dorian’s cheeks begin to burn and he grips the blanket tighter.

“Thank you.”

“’S no problem.”

Dorian glances over at his roommate. Dariax looks surprisingly peaceful like this and it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep again. The quiet snore returns and his mouth falls open slightly. When Dorian finally gets up to take a shower, he shivers slightly in the cold before carefully stepping over to the other bed and pulling the blanket over Dariax.

*

“You know what, I feel honored that you’re going to trust me with your first time”, Dariax says, looking endlessly pleased with himself.

Dorian sputters.

“Excuse m—“

“Your first time drinking, buddy”, Dariax explains and laughs as he sees the flush on Dorian’s cheeks.

They’re both sitting on Dariax’ bed—because Dariax doesn’t care about getting spots on his sheets at all—with a bottle of liquor that is bright red and looks a little radioactive.

“Well, I think I would just—uh. Prefer it… to try this out with someone I trust before I make a fool of myself in front of a whole party, you know”, Dorian says. When no answer comes, he turns his head to look at Dariax.

Dariax’ eyes are shimmering with something that Dorian can’t quite read but it makes his heart race in his chest. Dariax never looked at him like this before. His expression is almost soft with the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Glad to hear you trust me, Dorian. I trust you, too.”

Dorian clears his throat and looks away, the tension in the air between them suddenly too much for him.

“I am very trustworthy”, he jokes and grabs the bottle to unscrew it and smell the liquid inside.

“Ugh—it’s revolting”, he remarks and coughs a little.

Dariax chuckles.

“That’s how you know it’s good”, he says with a nod and gestures for Dorian to take the first sip.

Dorian has tried some champagne before, some beer. Some wine. But never more than half a glass. He never tried drinking any hard liquor and this stuff is burning his throat and sending heatwaves through his whole body immediately.

“Wow”, he coughs and hands the bottle to Dariax.

“Good stuff, right?”, Dariax says and

“It’s terrible!”

“Yeah”, Dariax says with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

“I don’t think a thing can be both good and terrible at the same time”, Dorian remarks, his face still in a grimace as he tries to get used to the burning sensation of hard alcohol in his throat.

“Nonsense, those are like, all of my favorite movies!”, Dariax says and takes a huge swig out of the bottle before handing it back to Dorian.

Dorian feels weirdly honored that Dariax decided to stay in on a Saturday night just to hang out with him and test the waters with his roommate while no doubt all his friends are out there partying.

“Like what movies”, Dorian wants to know and takes another careful sip out of the bottle. His mind provides him with the terrible thought that this might as well count as an indirect kiss, something that is entirely idiotic and not useful at all.

“Okay, so, you know when someone asks you a question about yourself and suddenly you have forgotten all of your interests and hobbies and favorites and pretty much everything about yourself?”, Dariax says, his brow furrowed as he tries to think of a movie that is both terrible and good at the same time.

“Tell you what. I can say that two of my favorite movies of all time are Pacific Rim and Mad Max, and those are not terrible, mind you, they’re just good. But if I manage to think of one that is both terrible and good, I’ll tell you immediately.”

Dorian has neither seen Mad Max nor Pacific Rim. When he tells Dariax as much his roommate looks aghast.

“Oh my gosh, Dorian. Buddy. My boy. That is—no. No, I can’t let this stand. Grab your laptop, we’re watching Pacific Rim right now”, Dariax orders and looks at Dorian expectantly.

This is how Dorian ends up crying about giant robots. And maybe also brothers.

Dariax hands him a tissue and sniffs.

“Good stuff, right?”, Dariax asks and empties the bottle as the end credits start rolling. Dorian nods and watches as Dariax throws the empty bottle to the side before pulling out a second one from under his bed.

Dorian is definitely tipsy. He drank way less than Dariax, of course, but he can feel a faint buzzing in his head and his vision seems to be slowed. There is a feeling of heaviness in his legs as he accepts the new bottle—this time the liquor is bright blue and tastes even worse—and drinks.

The new sensations in his body aren’t unpleasantly.

In a way, his soul feels lighter like this, less anxious, less unsure about things, which is pretty nice.

“So, what’s your favorite movie?”, Dariax wants to know.

“I—hm. I don’t know. I’m not much of a movie guy. I suppose I liked Lord of the Rings when I watched it a few years ago”, he says, thinking about the movies he has seen and which ones he enjoyed the most. Weirdly enough it’s exactly as Dariax said—now that someone asked about what he likes, Dorian can’t seem to remember much about himself.

“Good choice”, Dariax says with an approving nod that makes Dorian feel weirdly pleased.

“I guess we could totally do a Lord of the Rings marathon, you know? Get some snacks, order pizza, get fucked up. Hey, we could make it a drinking game!”

Dorian isn’t sure why there’s a tingling sensation under his skin, or why his heart starts beating faster in light of Dariax’ suggestion. Maybe it’s because he feels happy that Dariax wants to spend more time with Dorian. Maybe it’s just because the alcohol is getting to Dorian.

“What about your other friends?”, Dorian asks.

“What about them?”

“Well—wouldn’t you rather spend more time with them? You know—partying. Going skinny dipping. That sort of thing.”

Dorian knows that he’s fishing for compliments. He knows and he feels embarrassed about it but he can’t stop. Validation is something that he craves way too much for his own comfort, but the alcohol has lowered his defenses—or raised his stupidity. Either one of those.

“Well—you know when we went skinny dipping and they fucked me over, that was like. Not cool? And you got me outta there, even though you don’t really do that sorta thing, you know? So—that was not the first time I got fucked over by people I called my friends, but it was totally the first time someone bailed me out of stuff. So yeah. I’d rather stick with you, if that’s alright with you”, Dariax says, taking a few long gulps from the bottle of blue liquid.

Dorian feels a rush of heat under his skin. It’s not unusual for him to feel strongly about being praised or validated, but it usually doesn’t hit this hard.

He swallows and laughs nervously, grabbing the bottle from Dariax and taking a big sip that burns his throat.

“Yeah—yeah, alright”, he croaks and Dariax beams at him.

“I’m sorry, by the way. That—uh. That those people left you behind”, he adds quietly and hands the bottle back to Dariax.

“Oh, you know. I suppose it’s on me. I’m not very smart and I’m not good on my own, so I tend to follow people’s leads and they—uh. I guess they get bored with me, or something? Anyway. It’s not really important. Hey, how do you feel about watching Mad Max, too?”

*

“Hey, my friend is throwing a party on Saturday. Do you want to come?”

“Are you kidding? Do I wanna take your partying virginity? Hell, yes!”

“Dariax...”

“Sorry buddy, I got carried away.”

*

Dorian is still thinking about rice pudding on Friday.

The fact that somewhere out there is a person who would tell someone else something mean like this makes him nervous to try and kiss anyone. What if he actually likes the person he’s kissing and gets told that his kisses feel like a bowl of rice pudding?

Or worse, something even slimier?

He’s trying to get another song for one of his bard classes done, but he’s unable to concentrate.

“Hey, Dariax”, he says and looks over at Dariax who’s watching cat videos on YouTube, “can I ask you something? About—uh. About... kissing?”

Dariax looks up at him with bright eyes.

“Sure”, he says and grins.

Dorian swallows.

“Uh—I was thinking. How—uh. How did you get better at kissing? Did you practice with anyone?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, not like that. I just went for it again and again until I got better at it. Guess it would’ve been nice to have someone around for practice, but I made it work anyway. No one’s been complaining for a while now.”

Dorian chews on his bottom lip and pokes the paper he’s working on with a pencil.

“So—uh. You said—“

“Yes”, Dariax shoots back immediately, as if he knows what Dorian is going to say next. Dorian feels the familiar heat rise up in his chest as he looks at his roommate who seems very intense all of a sudden, leaning forward and shutting his laptop, his eyes fixed on Dorian.

“I—uh. I don’t. I don’t really... I don’t like... guys?”, Dorian says and his voice sounds way too hoarse in his own ears. Dariax’ shoulders sag a little but he shrugs.

“Doesn’t really matter for this, right? It’s just kissing.”

“Right. Okay. Uh—so. If I—if I wanted to try this...  how do you—how do we make this work?”, he asks.

His heart is beating so fast, Dorian is afraid it’s going to break his rib cage and fly out of the window. Dariax puts his laptop to the side and pats the mattress beside himself, his eyes still fixed on Dorian’s face with an intensity that makes heat pool in Dorian’s lower abdomen.

He pushes the feeling aside and gets up from his own bed to sit down next to Dariax.

“I know what this is about”, Dariax says with a sly grin.

“Uh—you do?”

Dorian doesn’t know what this is about aside from his own nagging sense of anxiety and the fact that he can’t stop thinking about kissing Dariax—which is entirely Dariax’ fault because he offered this whole practicing thing in the first place.

“Yeah. You’re going to check out some ladies on that party tomorrow”, Dariax says, his grin widening as he scoots closer to Dorian. Dorian can feel Dariax’ body heat and he presses his back against the wall, his fingers digging into the blanket crumpled below his legs.

“Ah—yeah. You got me”, he lies and laughs nervously. Dariax winks and gives him fingerguns.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha! I’ll be the best wingman ever. Here, just lemme—“

And Dariax climbs into Dorian’s lap, straddling him, his face so close to Dorian’s that Dorian can feel his breath on his cheek.

He holds his breath as he notices all the freckles on Dariax’ face, his scruffy beard, his hazel-brown eyes...

His heart is stumbling in his chest.

“Thanks”, he rasps.

“No need to be nervous, I’m sure you’ll be way better at this than I was the first time around. Just lemme take the lead, okay?”

Dorian nods.

If he gets hard now, Dariax will definitely feel it.

Fuck.

Dariax raises his hands and tilts Dorian’s chin up while his other hand gently cups Dorian’s cheek. It’s already almost too much for Dorian. His lips open slightly and his eyes widen as Dariax gets closer still, his nose gently touching Dorian’s.

“If you want me to stop, just smack me real hard”, Dariax whispers and his breath tickles Dorian’s lips before the distance between their mouths is closed and Dariax is kissing him, his hazel-brown eyes closed.

Dariax’ lips are warm and a little chapped and Dorian gasps against his mouth helplessly—something that Dariax seems to take as encouragement. He tilts his head to the side to get a better angle and then his lips press against Dorian’s in earnest.

Dorian’s heart stops for a few seconds before restarting with doubled speed.

His whole body seems to be on fire all of a sudden and he can’t help but raise his hands to touch Dariax—just touch him anywhere. He needs to ground himself, hold onto something, or he might just get lost in the feeling of Dariax’ warm lips carefully moving against his.

It’s a slow kiss, almost sweet, but Dorian’s skin is set aflame.

I don’t like guys, he thinks as his whole body decides that he must get closer to Dariax, wrap his arms around him, pull him in, cup the back of his head so he doesn’t move away—

“This okay?”, Dariax mumbles against his lips and he sounds so out of breath as if he just sprinted a whole mile.

“Yeah—I. Yeah.”

“You wanna try with tongue?”

Dorian swallows. There is still heat pooling in his abdomen. He should say no. He should stop doing this. This feels dangerous and stupid.

But it also feels so good.

“Yeah, okay”, he whispers.

Dariax doesn’t wait for another invite, he immediately leans forward again to close the distance between them and as Dorian’s hands dig themselves into the back of Dariax’s shirt and his heart starts racing even faster Dariax slides his tongue into Dorian’s mouth and Dorian’s mind goes blank.

There is a sound that is dangerously close to a moan and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s coming from him.

He holds onto Dariax like a drowning man before he manages to kiss back.

The second their tongues slide against one another there is a sound from Dariax too, one that shoots directly into Dorian’s lap. His hips buckle up involuntarily, his arms wrap around Dariax tighter and Dariax presses closer, his hips grinding down against him.

Dorian is lost.

And he’s so, so fucked.

It feels so incredibly good to kiss Dariax. He forgot why he even started kissing him, all he knows that he doesn’t want to stop, that he wants to get closer, wants to touch more skin—

He’s hard by now, and so is Dariax. Dorian can feel his erection through the jeans that Dariax is wearing.

Dorian buries his hands in Dariax’ hair and pulls. Dariax makes a helpless sound and bites down on Dorian’s bottom lip before sucking on it lightly and Dorian is afraid that he might come in his pants just from kissing and the delicious friction of Dariax’ crotch rubbing against his.

Shit, shit, shit, shit—

Before Dorian can make a fool of himself Dariax pulls back.

He’s panting, his eyes are glassy, his lips red and wet from kissing and he looks so pretty, Dorian is momentarily stunned by the revelation that he might not be into girls or guys or pretty much anyone.

But he’s definitely, terribly, irrevocably into Dariax.

Fuck.

“S—sorry”, Dariax gasps and clambers off of Dorian’s lap. “That was—I’m. I—uh. I got carried away a little. Didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

Dorian swallows and stares at him, his eyes wide and his heart pressing against his rib cage.

“It’s okay”, he rasps. “I—uh. I got a little carried away, too.”

Dariax throws him a lopsided smile.

“Well. I’d say you’re good to go.”

And he gets off the bed and stumbles over to the bathroom, leaving Dorian behind with a rapidly beating heart, tingling lips and the revelation that he has the world’s worst crush on Dariax.