#but sometimes a thing just Wants to be in present

[strawby-jelli]

I get the sentiment, but I don’t like those posts that are like “it’s not a phase and it’s never a phase and all (insert sexuality/gender/romantic orientation here) are like this forever and were born this way and if you think it can change you’re bigoted” bc sometimes these things ARE a phase. This narrative of things never being phases can leave people feeling stuck and confused and like they’re a bad person if things do change. Your gender, sexuality, romantic orientation, etc. can be a phase. That doesn’t mean that your present identity is invalid or that people can talk down on you. Respect and potential fluidity can coexist.

Edit: I’m getting lots of people commenting about how you can just choose your sexuality, like you can be straight and decide you wanna give the middle finger to dudes so you “become” a lesbian (or worse, you’re a guy who thinks it’s somehow more progressive), or “decide to be” trans because you want to be part of the group. I need to clarify that this is NOT what I am talking about.

[merakiui]

Soft non-con with the overblots? 👀

I think it works especially well with Malleus, considering sleep is such a gentle thing (usually). So vulnerable, forever wrapped in a sweet dream, you’re as fragile as you are when you’re awake—perhaps even more so when your eyes are shut. It’s so peaceful, so it’s only natural Malleus treats you as such. Clawed hands roam your body, exploring every inch, and if it weren’t for your calm heartbeat he’d think you dead. But that’s impossible because not even death can reach you here, where time has fallen still and all is silent. No interruptions. No one to tell him they’re going to leave the cage he’s carefully crafted.

Malleus is patient with your body. You’ve never taken something so big before, so he has to prepare you adequately. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants you to feel good both in your dream and in the physical present. Every day is spent between your legs, fucking you open on his fingers or tongue. Every twitch of your body and hitch of breath is magnificent. He loves how receptive you are, even if it’s just your body that responds to the pleasure.

It takes time and he’s been so careful, but it pays off in the end when he finally gets to take you for himself. It’s still a snug squeeze, but the resistance isn’t nearly as troublesome as it was before when he tried to push the fat head of one of his cocks inside and it just wouldn’t budge. :( but now you’re taking the entire thing up to the hilt, and you seem to adore it even in deep sleep! His other cock rubs against your belly, leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. He’ll need more time if he’s planning to train your diligent hole to take both at once. For now, this will suffice. He’s so pleased to press down against your stomach and feel the outline of his cock bulging up against your insides.

Malleus kisses your tears away, peppers your face in fleeting pecks, loves you in the silent sliver of the world. He cradles you in his embrace. Sometimes he tries to get you to wrap your arms and legs around his neck and waist, but they’re limp and heavy like lead. They fall as quick as they’re positioned, and while it may break the immersion somewhat it doesn’t truly matter in the grand scheme of things. What matters most is that you’re here with him, asleep and adored, and that’s all he could ever hope for.

[janaispunk]

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you. 

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him. 

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it. 

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back. 

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in. 

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly. 

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down. 

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice. 

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play. 

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last. 

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before. 

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV. 

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face. 

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel. 

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest. 

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside. 

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it. 

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second. 

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager. 

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore. 

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?” 

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body. 

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like. 

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago. 

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs. 

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips. 

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features. 

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat. 

“Yeah no, I– just a second.” 

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright. 

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what. 

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of. 

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip. 

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal. 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed. 

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you. 

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books. 

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to. 

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves. 

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[turtleblogatlast]

“Hey, Hueso.”

Hueso sighs.

Moving his gaze to his left, he sees Leo casually leaning up against the wall next to him. The turtle isn’t looking at him, instead he seems to be staring at nothing at all. Strange, but not necessarily unheard of from him.

“We’re closed, Pepino.” Hueso states, moving a little away to continue closing down his restaurant-

“Can any portal be portal-jacked?”

Hueso pauses.

It’s a simple enough question, one that Hueso’s fairly certain he’s given an equally simple - if not a bit harsh - answer to. Granted, it was more in regard to the likelihood of bad portals being jacked rather than any at all, so maybe now that Leo has admittedly become much more competent with his portals, he’s just worried it’ll happen again.

The invasion certainly made the boy more…cautious. Quieter, too.

“Well…” Hueso runs a bony hand down his face, “From what I know, the possibility always exists, Pepino. However, it is far, far more unlikely to be portal-jacked when the portal is made by a master, rather than some reckless amateur.”

Leo nods his head, almost vacantly. If Hueso wasn’t paying so much attention he may have missed the way Leo seemed to look a little sick. Despite himself, concern builds within him.

“So-“ Leo starts, his voice soft in a worrisome way before he clears it, “So…if the portal was just- really strong, it could still be jacked if made by a beginner?”

Hueso watches closely even as he nods in answer, “Sí. Your own portals are strong, no?”

Leo shakes his head, “No, like- imagine a portal way stronger than mine ever were. Something huge and stuff. More, uh. More locked up dimensions and time, less…just space.”

“Hm.” Hueso frowns, considering the strange question. “Well, in truth I have yet to come across many portals on that level, but there’s nothing to say that it’s not possible-“ The smallest furrow of Leo’s brow makes Hueso hurry to add, “-ah, but there’s also nothing that says it is possible.”

“So…it could happen? It’s not a definitive “no”?” Leo asks, the smallest of shakes present in his tone.

Hueso puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “No lo sé, Pepino. I haven’t come across such portals enough to give a good answer to you.”

Something in him hurts a bit when Leo visibly plasters on a grin. “Ah, man. Well- Gracias, Hueso, this was just a stupid thing to get all hung up on anyway.”

Hueso looks closer at this annoying, insufferable, horribly quiet and reserved boy. He sees the dark circles peaking, barely visible thanks to the mask. He sees the scars of healed injuries never to be forgotten displayed all across the boy’s body. He sees the look in Leo’s eyes, a depression and worry that is…hard to look at, in someone so young.

He sees all of this in Leo, and as much as he sometimes wishes to deny it, he cares enough about him to gently ask. “Are you okay, Pepino?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Hueso, I’m not about to whine to you again or anything.” Leo laughs, backing away out of Hueso’s reach. “It’s just a little question, just something that’s been bothering me, y’know? Wanted to ask an expert.”

“Pepino-“ Hueso starts, not quite sure what to say. The words “you can come to me whenever you need to” are true, and yet he can’t bring himself to say them before Leo already is swinging a katana.

In the light of his blue portal, Leo sends Hueso his signature, manufactured grin. “Thanks for listening, Hueso!”

And then he’s gone. Just like that. Standing tall and confident with not a shred of that worry and reservation and fear left behind. It was the look of a soldier heading off to a battle he knew was terrifying, but one he also knew he needed to keep a brave face for.

It would have been a commendable look, if not for the fact Leo was heading home.

Hueso stares at the residual sparks of the portal for just a moment longer before moving to continue closing. Next time, because there will always be a next time, Hueso will have a fresh pizza waiting.

And, hopefully, a bit of that insufferable turtle he knows so well comes back to grab a slice.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 04 - Woods]

Focus on Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, i have no words to describe how much this chapter makes me cry in a romantic way, they love each other so much!!!, it's insane how much they love each other, a cute date by a forest lake, Yoongi is also very hot because he cuts wood with an axe in a tanktop🥵, sorry i have a thing for people cutting wood don't ask any further questions thank you, skinny tipping, Yoongi being a cuddly cutie, he teaches her a few magic tricks, serious talks about family but make it romantic, have i already mentioned that they're soulmates who LOVE each other??

Wordcount: 11.1k

a/n: i don't wanna talk, i just wanna cry

Jungkook isn’t spooning you anymore the next morning. You stretch, yawning loudly. Today will be a good day. You can feel it in your heart. You sit up and look around the room. His clothes are missing, which means he already left for downstairs. You want to see if you can meet him or your other boys somewhere.

You throw your legs out of bed and stand up with a happy swing in your movements. You slip into your house shoes and leave for downstairs.

Taehyung and Yoongi are nowhere to be found and in the kitchen, only your grandparents are currently present. Your grandfather sits by the table, solving a crossword puzzle while your grandmother is in the midst of making cooking dough.

They turn their heads upon the sounds of you coming down the stairs.

“Oh look who is awake already”, your grandfather says.

“Good morning”, you greet them, hurrying to your grandmother to hug her tightly, “good morning, gram’ma”, you say into the crook of her shoulder. 

“Good morning, my honeybee”, she answers you, caressing your lower arm with tenderness. 

You give her a soft squeeze and let go of her for the sake of hugging your grandfather. He chuckles deeply, leaning into the hug. A crosswords puzzle is half finished in front of him. 

“Good morning, my forest strider”, he says. 

“Did you sleep well?” you ask them and straighten up.

“We did. Did you sleep well?” your grandmother asks.

“I did. I love my bed here. It’s so cozy.”

“That’s good to hear. Can you remember when you and grandpa built it?”

“Of course I do”, you say, sitting down next to your grandfather, “you did all the hard work and I helped you put the glue on. And then we asked grandma to join us for the staining. I really liked those days.” 

“We liked them as well.”

“We really did”, your grandfather says and pats your arm, “my girl, we really loved it when you were with us.” 

You smile, “I loved it as well.”

“Mhm, my girl”, your grandfather mumbles and looks into his crosswords. He will never change and painfully enough, when he went, the thing you missed most were his nicknames for you. It feels so good to hear them in his voice again. It’s reassuring to know that your memory of his voice was so accurate. It brings a little comfort to know that the heart will never forget. Just as it never forgets smells, sounds are right there beside them, keeping people alive. 

“Did you perhaps see where Jungkook went?” you ask no one in particular. 

“Jungkook? No, he hasn’t been downstairs yet. But I already saw Yoongi. He helped me with the chickens this morning”, your grandfather says. 

“This sounds like him. He really loves to help. His readiness to help everyone and anyone was such a big reason why I fell for him.”

“He is a very proper young man. And very knowledgeable as well. We talked about wood for quite some time. He knows a lot about woodworking.” 

“He does. He made so much furniture for me already”, you say and nudge your grandfather’s arm, “sometimes we build it together. Like you and I did.” 

Your grandfather nods his head and smiles to himself, “my girl, yes my girl.” 

You shift your eyes to your grandmother. She is forming cookies with her fingers.

“Is he still in the garden?” 

“He must be. He helped with the washing up and then spoke of going to the forest for firewood”, your grandmother says.

“Mhm, I see. I think I might look for him”, you say and stand up to walk to the fridge, “after breakfast that is.”

Your grandparents work in the garden once you come outside after washing up. You call to them.

“I’m gonna look for Yoongi now!” 

“Okay, be careful!”

“Don’t go too close to the stream!”

“I will and I won’t!” you say and wave them goodbye. You turn, walking up the path in a happy skip.

You have crossed the corner and have the forest gate in your view, when someone calls your name above your head. You stop and lift your head. 

Taehyung and Jungkook stand by the guest bedroom window and wave their hands at you excitedly. Taehyung is behind Jungkook, clearly back hugging him. 

“Good morning, you two”, you call up, waving back at them. 

“Good morning”, they say in unison.

“Where are you going with that picnic basket?” Jungkook asks. 

You step closer to the window so you could talk easier. The climbing rose, crawling up the walls to their window, smells sweet. 

“The forest. Yoongi went out for firewood and I want to find him and then have breakfast with him because I know he hasn’t eaten yet.” 

“That sounds lovely. Have you been awake for long?” Taehyung asks.

“About an hour, I would say. I had breakfast with grams and paps. Did you just wake up?” 

“Ten minutes ago. I think?” Taehyung says.

“Yes ten minutes ago. I’ve been awake for a while. You were sleeping so deeply so I didn’t wanna wake you. I went for a walk and then went to Tae for cuddles”, Jungkook says.

“Ah, that explains why you were suddenly gone”, you say fondly, “did you have a nice walk?”

“I did. The forest is so quiet in the morning.”

“It really is. You both look so handsome today.”

“Heh, thankies”, Jungkook says with a scrunch of his nose.

“You look beautiful as well, my darling.”

“Heh, thanks. Are you gonna do something today?”

“Perhaps. For now we are enjoying the morning scents”, Taehyung says and nuzzles his nose into Jungkook’s neck. 

The latter leans into him, closing his eyes halfway. 

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses. 

They both catch them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip up the path.

“I thought the same.”

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?” 

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.” 

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same. 

“That is something she would do.” 

“Yeah right?” 

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.” 

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.” 

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

The lovely scent of forest becomes stronger as you take the path you took countless times before. You pass the Rock and dodge the Branches. Yoongi doesn’t know these woods, so he must not have gone far and knowing your grandfather, he most definitely told him about his woodworking spot not far from here. He chops his firewood there and stacks it. You spent many afternoons by his side, watching him work or exploring the surrounding forest. Sometimes you returned with some sticks, stones and insects, asking him all sorts of questions about them. Your grandfather always took his time to answer you even if, sometimes, he had no idea himself. You know these days that some of his answers were made up lies because he couldn’t bring himself to let his granddaughter down. You still like his answers these days and even if you knew the real answer these days, the first thing your grandfather taught you will always be the most precious to you.

The firewood clearing is around six minutes from the cottage. You walk along the path and stop to look at plants. One time you stop for a small bird because it was trying to get an acorn open by hammering it against a stone and it was so adorable to watch that you had to take it in for a bit. The firewood clearing is only six minutes from the cottage, but it takes you twice as long to get there. You don’t mind the delay because it meant that you took time to see the beauty all around you. Something about these forests really reminds you how important it is to do that.

The sound of a person chopping wood is the first thing you hear. You were correct. Yoongi is on the clearing. You quicken your steps, feeling your heart flutter in excitement. Even your stomach tingles nervously. How silly of it, acting as if you still had to be nervous around him. Perhaps that is what makes it so exciting however. You still feel giddy at the aspect of seeing him, just as giddy as if he was your secret crush. 

The clearing reveals itself once you walk past the stacks of firewood. A heap of unchopped firewood is to your left and to your right under the tall spruce pine, Yoongi is chopping wood. He is in a tanktop and jeans, having his grey flannel wrapped around his hips. He is sweating, frowning in concentration. The giddiness grows. Wow, you have the biggest crush on this man, it’s unbelievable. 

“Yoongi”, you call for him.

He lowers the axe and turns his head. You wave at him, grinning so brightly that you can feel your cheek muscles work. He lifts his hand to wave back at you. You squeak a giggle and then run to him.

“Boongie, I saw a small bird and it was trying to get an acorn open, so it hit it against a rock over and over until it finally did it. And then I saw some ferns which had white spots on the leaves. They were so pretty, but I don’t know the name of them so I’ll have to look them up at home because maybe I wanna plant them along the forest borders”, you babble and then you have reached his side, greeting him with a kiss on the lips. 

You pull back, studying his face, “how are you doing? You’re sweating. Did you sleep well? I didn’t even notice when you left. My grandparents told me that you helped them this morning. You are so cute. I brought you food. Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m so excited today that I can’t shut up.”

Yoongi chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek.

“I didn’t even notice”, he says sarcastically but fondly, straightening up, “you brought me food?” 

“Mh-hm yeah”, you step back and lift the basket into your visions, “breakfast because knowing you, you are forgetting that you need to eat here.” 

“Yeah, right. I actually forgot”, he says and touches his stomach, “shit, why did you gotta remind me? Now I’m hungry.”

“Noo, I’m sorry Boongie. But good thing is, I have food. I’ll set it up there”, you say and hurry to the spot. It is out of the way of potential fly away wood and next to some wild raspberry bushes, “I’ll tell you once I’m done. Okay?”

“Yeah okay”, Yoongi says and lifts his axe. You stand still and watch him. Just this one time. You might have an unhealthy obsession with him chopping wood. There is something about his concentrated frown, his arms tensing and the nonchalant toss of the finished wood before he loads the log with a new one. 

Yoongi lifts his eyes, meeting your mesmerized gaze. He rests his gloved hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“Don’t do that. You’re hot, okay?” you whine and turn your back to him to finally get the food ready.

Yoongi chuckles to himself, shaking his head in fond disbelief. He lays out the unchopped log and lifts the axe. He feels so much more motivated to work now that you were here. He glances at you. You have laid out the blanket by now, kneeling on it as you get breakfast ready for him. His heart races, his stomach flutters. He has the biggest crush on you, it’s insane. He looks away from you and tries to concentrate on chopping wood. 

He manages to get through eight logs and then he hears your sweet voice call for him. He lowers the axe, looking at you. You are sitting on the picnic blanket with the food spread out in front of you. A big smile adorns your face, you are waving at him so excitedly that you are bouncing on the spot.

“Food’s ready.”

Yoongi nods his head in acknowledgement and leans the axe against the tree. He takes off his gloves, hanging them on the handle of the axe. Then he finally walks to you, feeling confident because you are basically eating him up with your eyes.

“That looks delicious”, he says, sitting down next to you, “what have you got for me?”

“I think you’ll like it. I’ve got some eggs and bacon and some sausages, but also veggies because you need the vitamins”, you explain, “and I’ve got coffee in a thermos. It’s the really strong one, the bitter one”, you say, “the disgusting one”, you tease to which Yoongi chuckles and leans in to peck your cheek.

“Thank you so much, my princess”, he says, “I can’t wait to dig in.”

“Yeah, dig in. Eat all of it. I already had breakfast with grams and paps.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “when did you wake up today?”

“A little after sunrise I guess? I didn’t check the time”, Yoongi says and begins eating, “mhm that’s really good. I like it.”

“Yeah do?”

“I do”, Yoongi says and gives you a toothless smile.

You retort it with a scrunch of your nose and a little giggle, leaning closer instinctively as your giddy eyes race over his face. Even your shoulders lifted to your ears because you were so, so giddy. Truly, you couldn’t even deny that you were utterly in love with this man. It is so obvious.

“Eat as much as you want. I made it just for you.”

“I will, thank you love”, Yoongi says and takes a big bite.

“And?” you ask him with widened eyes.

He glances at them, then his food. He nods his head, “it’s good.”

“Thank you, wow”, you melt giddily, “eat a lot, my love.”

“Mhm.”

You watch him take two bites and then you have to talk again.

“Kookie told me that you and Tae had a talk last night.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“I’m so happy”, you scrunch your nose giddily, “I love you both so much and it always made me sad to think that you didn’t get along.”

“It did?”

You nod your head, “it did. I didn’t want to say anything, because I know that you have a lot of history together and I didn’t want to force anything. But I really have to confess that it makes me happy that you are trying to become friends.”

“Yeah”, he looks out at the lake, “I guess we had a lot to clear up. I didn’t wanna dislike him, but also couldn’t get myself not to. Last night helped a lot. I want to honestly try from now on.”

“That’s so good to hear, my love.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he hums and takes a few bites before he talks again, “did you see Kook and Taehyung?”

“Yeah, they’re still in the guestroom. Tae woke up a few minutes ago.”

“I see.”

“Why?”

“No reason, just checking up”, Yoongi says and looks out at the lake. He sighs contently, chewing on his food with slightly squinted eyes. He genuinely really likes it. You are an amazing cook and the fact that he was already starving, makes it taste even better.

Yoongi enjoys the food to even the last little crumb and he drinks his coffee to even the last little drop. He gets back to his feet afterwards, walking back to the chopping area.

You chuckle. Yoongi looks over his shoulder.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just funny how you just ate in silence only to stand up and walk away without a word”, you say, “it’s funny.”

“Sorry”, Yoongi says and returns to kneel down and kiss your cheek, “I’m not a big talker”, a kiss to your other cheek, “sometimes I forget I gotta talk to other people.”

“It’s okay, I get it. You did like it, didn’t you?”

“I did. It was really good”, he kisses your lips, “thank you for cooking.”

“Mhm Yoongs”, you whisper, pulling him in for another kiss by tangling your hands in his hair. He follows with a chuckle and his teeth nibbling on your lower lip teasingly.

“You’re lovely”, he whispers.

“I am?”

“Mhm, the loveliest”, he breathes and places a kiss to your jawline, “can I chop more wood now, mhm?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah, but only if I can read and sneak glances at you.”

He chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear, “that can be arranged, yeah.”

He makes you laugh. Yoongi smiles and gets to his feet, finally returning to chopping wood. He glances at you for a while. You get a book from the picnic basket and lie down on your tummy with your head facing him. You are propped up on your elbows, meeting his eyes. You smile, he retorts it. The eye contact breaks because Yoongi turned his back to you to get back into his gear.

This is the perfect day to you. You made Yoongi happy with food, can relax with a good book and watch him chop wood. Truly, there is no better way to spend a day.

Yoongi returns to the blanket once the entire pile of wood has been chopped. A few hours passed already and you have already read two thirds of the book. You are on your back by now, lost in the story fully until you hear him sit down with a loud sigh.

You lower the book, scanning your eyes over his body. His hair is soaked in sweat, it is soaking his tanktop as well, covering his arms and neck. His cheeks are flushed, carrying a layer of sweat as well. He is leaning back on his arms. His muscles are tense from the hard work. He gives you a sweet smile.

“You look hot.”

“I am. Fuck, I’m dying it’s so hot.”

“Here, drink something”, you say, offering him a bottle of water.

He accepts it, drinking it in one go. He finishes with a loud sigh and a content nod.

“That was needed, thanks.”

“Of course”, you say and scan your eyes over his body, “you’re also really hot, just saying.”

“Tch”, he scoffs, chuckling fondly, “of course you’d say that.”

“Can I touch your arms? Just once? Please?”

“Sure”, he is grinning, flexing it for you.

“Wow, so hard”, you murmur and squeeze his arm, “and so sweaty, it’s really sexy.”

“You’re being horny.”

“No, I’m not. I’m appreciative”, you defend yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can appreciate you being sweaty after hard work without being horny.”

“Mhm, sure you can.”

You nudge his arm, “meanie.”

He laughs and lies down on the blanket. He closes his eyes halfway, running them over your face obsessively. His hand he lets trail over your knee mindlessly. His touch is hot in temperature and just a little rough because the woodworking roughed up his skin even through the gloves.

“I like this”, he says.

“You do?”

He nods his head, “you’re the perfect fucking company.”

“I am?”

He hums a yes, lifting his brows in agreement.

You snicker, scrunching your nose. He makes your heart flutter like crazy.

“Did you like the book?”

“Yeah, I did. It took me a while to get lost in it, but once I did, I forgot everything around me.”

“I noticed.”

“You looked at me?”

“Too many times. Fuck princess, you gave me a hard time staying focused.”

“Yoongi”, you gasp, nudging his chest, “since when do you talk like this?”

He laughs, “I don’t know. Fuck”, he covers his eyes with his own arm, “I’m cringing at myself. That was so cheesy.”

“No, don’t cringe please. Continue. I like it so much.”

His laugh dies down, but his smile remains, “mhm, fine.”

“Good”, you say and peck his lips. He kisses you back with a hum, sitting up when you break the kiss way too soon. The answer as to why is revealed to him instantly in the form of your naked back as you pull your dress over your head.

 “What are you doing, oh my god”, Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes before turning his head away quickly.

You glance over your shoulder. He is actively looking at the blanket. He is such a gentleman, you wouldn’t even have minded if he looked.

“Undressing.”

“I can see that. Why?” he asks and goes even further by cover his eyes with his hands.

“I can hardly go into the water in my clothes. Can I?”

“The water?”

“Yeah, the lake. I wanna take a swim. I can’t do that with a dress on, can I?”

“I guess. Warn me next time, geez.”

You chuckle, “you’re so stiff sometimes. I wouldn’t even mind if you looked”, you say and tease him by throwing your dress over his head.

You hear him gasp under it and then watch his head snap up as he looks around with the fabric on his face.

“Very funny”, he says.

You snicker, “it is”, you tease, dropping your panties on his head next.

You coincidentally time it with Yoongi taking off your dress, resulting in the panties to kind of land on his hand. He takes them off to check them out, blushing vividly once he realises what he is holding.

“Fucking shit, princess”, he gasps, gawking up at you.

You merely give him a little giggle and then turn to run down the short path to the water. You jump into it with high-pitched squeaks, splashing it around you as best as possible.

“Oh my god this is cold”, you screech, sinking in deeper until the water reaches you under your neck. You laugh, twirling around a few times before you decide on looking at Yoongi instead. You grin at him, letting out a happy giggle.

He watched you, sitting with his back hunched comfortably and his head slightly tilted to the side. Your clothes are bundled neatly by his foot.

“It was so cold at first”, you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm yeah, but it’s not cold anymore. It’s nice, really refreshing”, you say and do one spin for good measures, “come join me”, you say afterwards, smiling even brighter.

Yoongi hesitates. Not because of you, but for two other reasons. One, the water is cold. Two, he would have to get naked in public. The second one is really holding him back.

“Come on, you’re gonna feel so much better afterwards.”

“What if someone sees us?”

“Nobody is gonna come here. Promise.”

“I don’t know”, he looks over his shoulder.

“Trust me. I’ve skinny dipped in this lake countless times. Nobody ever came here. Especially not in this realm.”

He looks back at you, touching the side of his neck. The boring, grumpy side of him really wants to deny you. The old Yoongi definitely would have. But Yoongi these days knows how much more fun his life feels when he says yes to your ideas.

“Fine, but look away please.”

“I am”, you say, turning around. You lean back in the water and stretch out your legs, using your arms to stay afloat. Your toes peak out of the water this way, you wiggle them happily, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either why I’m doing it. This is so insane.”

“Yeah it is, but it’s also fun”, you say and sigh happily.

“Okay, I’m coming in, but don’t look.”

“Ooh Yoongi, I’m excited”, you giggle, splashing water to handle the happiness a little easier.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold. How the fuck did you get in so easily? Wah, it’s so cold, I hate it”, Yoongi is whining, but despite that you can hear his steps come closer and closer.

“It’s because I wasn’t taking my time. The longer you take, the colder it’ll feel.”

“No, it just hurts more when you do it fast. Fuck, it’s freezing”, he says, splashing the water.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting my chest wet, I’m not risking a heart attack.”

You laugh, throwing your head back, “it’s not that cold, doofus.”

“It is cold to me”, he throws back in a whine, now wetting his back as well.

You laugh, “okay, okay if you say so.”

Yoongi curses and whines as he enters the water, stopping once it reaches him a little above his hips.

“You can turn around.”

You do so instantly, swimming to him. You stand up once you reach his side, touching his waist.

“Hey there”, you say, scrunching your nose happily, “how are you doing?”

“My balls are fucking dying off.”

“You and your struggles with your balls”, you say in laughter, tugging him further into the water by the hips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When I’m taking a hot bath, you complain about getting them boiled, now you whine about losing them.” 

“Hey, my balls are sensitive to temperature. Let me complain”, he throws back with a pout.

“I am, I am”, you say and snicker, “now come in here”, you add and tug him harshly. 

He stumbles, falling into the water with such force that water splashes everywhere.

“No eek”, he is squeaking, “that wasn’t cool. Why did you do that?”

“Because, I wanted to do this”, you say and hug him. You wrap your legs around his waist under the water, hooking your arms behind his head. 

He frowns at you, but his eyes carry fondness. His big hands support you under your butt, holding you safely as you and he cool off in the water.

“How are your balls doing?” 

He snorts, laughs softly.

“Fine I guess”, he murmurs.

“So they didn’t fall off?” 

“No. Fuck, this is so cold though”, he says and pulls you closer, “you’re warming my ass, understood?” 

“Mhm, I can live with that”, you say and rest your chin on his shoulder. The water ends just on the tip of your chin, splashing up and down with Yoongi’s movements, “this is so nice. Seriously.”

“Mhm, it’s good”, he agrees, looking at the view. Your body feels really warm against his’, your skin really soft. He doesn’t feel the cold where you touch and on the places he does, it’s not uncomfortable anymore because your warmth is stronger than the cold of the water. He knew saying yes to you would pay off. He never did something like this before. Both skinny dipping and cuddling with someone under water. It’s new to him and it’s only as nice because he experiences it with you.

“Do you still feel hot?” you ask him.

“No.”

“See? The swim was a good idea.”

“Yeah, I guess it was”, he says, giving your butt a little squeeze, “you’re still foul for pulling me in like that.”

“If I didn’t, we would still be standing”, you say, snickering when he bites your neck gently.

“Brat.”

The sounds of the forest are especially nice. The gentle gurgling of the water harmonises with the countless songs of birds and the faint rustling of leaves in the barely there breeze. You have view of the shore, the picnic and the woodworking space behind it. Yoongi has view of the distant mountains, the forest and the rest of the lake. The sunlight reflects in its surface. It isn’t as calm as it once was and he knows that it is because you and he disturbed it. It is beautiful to him because it makes the sunlight sparkle like hundreds of gems. He likes that his eyes don’t hurt when he looks at it. Yoongi pulls you closer to him and releases a deep sigh.

“Are you okay?” you ask him. Of course you do.

“Yeah, just breathed. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s so nice.”

You give him a gentle squeeze, smiling to yourself. You like how open with his feelings he is these days and that he is saying yes to your spontaneous ideas more than he says no. Of course you would have respected it if he denied you right now, but it is still so much more exciting to share this moment with him. It is so intimate and romantic without even having to try a lot. Just nature, skin on skin contact and a relaxing play of temperature.

“I think I just touched a frog with my foot. Ew yeah, it’s moving, princess help”, Yoongi says and suddenly you get shaken around as he begins flailing under the water.

You break away from him, laughing loudly. It echoes through the forest, joining Yoongi’s disgusted screeches. 

“I hate it, princess it touched my toe that was so yucky”, he whines, “I think it’s still there. Princess, take it away please.”

“God you fucking baby, come here”, you laugh, pulling him close so you could pick him up. 

“Yah let me down”, he whines, wiggling in your arms.

“No, the frogs. They’re coming for you”, you joke, laughing loudly when Yoongi sends you a look. 

“Come on doofus, wanna swim further out?”

“Yeah, lets do it, come on”, he pushes you gently, “I don’t wanna touch frogs again.”

“You won’t”, you say, snickering. You turn so you are facing the lake and then swim off. Yoongi follows you, using only his arms to move forward.

“Can I still touch the ground? Can you check?” he asks, looking down nervously.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes”, he insists, “please”, he adds pleadingly.

“Okay, okay I’ll check”, you say and stretch your legs to the floor. Nothing touches you, “it’s safe.”

He extends his legs carefully. Nothing touches his feet. He sighs in relief.

“Good, thanks for checking.”

“Of course”, you snicker and continue to lead the way.

You and he swim next to each with some distance to give your limbs enough space to move. 

The lake isn’t the biggest, so swimming to the middle of it should only take you a minute. If you were alone, you would manage in under a minute, but Yoongi seems to be a slow swimmer. You glance at him. A careful one as well. He looks nervous, sneaking glances at the water with furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?” 

“Why are you asking?”

“You look nervous.”

“It’s fine, I just don’t trust lakes.”

“It’s safe, don’t worry. I took countless swims in it when I was a child.”

“I guess”, he glances again, “nothing can touch my feet, right?”

“No. The lake’s deeper than you might think.”

“D-deep? How deep?” he gasps, widening his eyes.

“Like thirty meters? In the middle at least.”

“Thirty?!” he blurts out so loudly that his voice bounces off the trees, “are you serious?” 

“Yeah, around that I would say. Don’t worry, nothing can touch your feet.”

“I guess”, he glances again, “that’s so fucking deep though. Do you know what’s down there?”

“Fish probably?”

“Big fish?” 

“Maybe? I never dove down there, so I can’t say.”

“Okay, yeah that’s fine”, he says even if his eyes don’t mean it.

You and he reached the middle. You are floating in the water and while you are relaxed in your movements, Yoongi seems to kick the water almost nervously. He also keeps glancing down.

“Are you okay? Honest answers only.”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you scared of lakes?”

“No?” he very obviously lies, “I just don’t think it’s safe to be here. What if something bites our toes?” 

You laugh, “nothing is gonna bite our toes.”

“You don’t know that. It’s way too deep”, he says and looks down at the darkness. He begins kicking the water harder, pulling a face of disgust. His arms begin flailing under the water as well.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I don’t know about that. Princess, this isn’t safe. I’m telling you.”

“Yes it is, trust me”, you assure him, “did you guys never take a swim in lakes in the past?” 

“We did, doesn’t mean I liked it.”

You chuckle, “the way you’re acting makes me think that you hate swimming.”

“I do, I hate swimming.” 

“Wait. Really? Is there a reason for it?”

“I guess, I don’t know. I almost drowned as a child, I think it kinda manifested itself.” 

“Woah, really? Holy moly Yoongi, this must have been so traumatic. Why didn’t you say so sooner? Should we leave?” 

“No, it’s okay. I’m having fun “

“Are you sure? You look nervous.”

“I am nervous”, he says, “the water’s too deep.” 

“Come on, we’ll swim back to the shore. It’s not as deep there”, you say, turning in the water to lead the way. 

Yoongi follows you gladly, looking over his shoulder at the scary middle. 

“It’s only around ten meters here and then gets gradually shallower. Good thing that I didn’t tell you that there’s kind of an underwater cliff in the middle which is why it’s so deep all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, very good thing you didn’t”, he says loudly, gawking at you with big eyes, “why would you tell me that? I’m literally gonna shit in the water, no joke.”

You laugh, “please warn me if you do, so I can flee.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “very funny.”

“Sorry”, you apologise and reach out to caress his arm, “is your fear strong? I bet it must be. Almost drowning is so scary.”

“It’s okay, I just wouldn’t go swimming on my own”, he says and looks out at the water, “it’s weird. Why did I remember this all of a sudden?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I had already forgotten about that event, so why did I suddenly remember it?”

“Maybe it’s because our conversation just naturally went there.” 

“Yeah, I guess”, he murmurs and drifts off. It is obvious in how his eyes space out and how he begins gnawing on his lower lip.

“Do you want to tell me more?” you ask in hopes of making it easier for him to talk.

“Sorry, I was just thinking”, he says and glances at you.

“It’s okay. I’m here to listen if you need it.”

His eyes soften. He swims closer and kisses your cheek. He stays close afterwards, studying your face. You and he stopped, now floating in the water. He isn’t kicking it nervously anymore, looking a lot safer here than he did in the middle of the lake. 

“I had a brother. He was older than me and in the winters we always had snowball fights.”

“Really? Gosh, this sounds lovely.” 

“Yeah, I guess it was fun. He was a bully. He always chased me around and rubbed snow into my face. I was smaller than him, so it was easy for him to pin me down.” 

“Noo, I’m sorry”, you say and snicker, “that’s such an older brother thing to do.”

“Yeah it really is”, he agrees and smiles softly, “I just now remembered when I remembered it again. It was during the time we had the snowball fight in my memories. Up until this moment I had forgotten that I had a brother.” 

“You did?”

He nods his head, “something about you makes me remember my human days. I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re happy with me and finally have a chance to think about other things than supernatural conflicts?” you start off confident but then get shy, “I hope, I don’t know, maybe you’re happy?” 

“Of course I’m happy”, he says, kissing your lips. He nudges your nose with his as he pulls back, giving you a warm eye smile, “my princess love.” 

You smile shyly, wiggling in the water happily, “yay, I’m happy. I sounded so cocky at first.”

“No you didn’t. Take the credit. You make my life worthwhile as fuck”, he says, making you giggle.

He kisses your cheek, “would you be mad at me if I wanna leave though? I’m so cold.”

“No, we can leave. I’m getting a little chilly as well.” 

So you and he begin your journey back to shore, swimming next to each other with enough distance not to accidentally kick the other underwater.

“Do you have siblings?” Yoongi asks.

“Right, we never even talked about that yet.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“No, I don’t have siblings, but I have a cousin who I grew up with very close. I still talk to him these days.”

“You do? What’s his name?” 

“Eren. He’s two years older than me and lives in Sydney. That’s why we rarely see each other.”

“Eren is a nice name. Your family has pretty names for their children. I think your name is beautiful as well.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, my love. This just made my heart race.” 

“Yeah well, it’s the truth”, he says matter of factly and continues, “so Eren, does he have family?”

“Yeah, a wife and two daughters. They were really busy in their early twenties”, you say and laugh.

Yoongi chuckles, “two daughters. That’s nice. If I had ever become a father, I would have loved to have daughters. Two of them, so they wouldn’t have been lonely.”

“Being a girl dad fits you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re gentle and warm hearted. Your daughters would have grown up with a safe father and definitely one who would have spoiled them way too much.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true”, he agrees in a chuckle, “and one who would have been way too scared for their safety. I probably would be the kinda dad that goes no it’s too dangerous to climb and then it’s something like a small stump.”

You laugh, “yeah that’s so true. You’d be way too overly careful and I’d have to tell you to calm down because they’ll be fine.”

Yoongi doesn’t laugh. Which makes you worry. You glanced at him. He is staring at you with widened eyes.

“What? I’m sorry, was that too mean?”

“You would have told me?” 

“Yeah? Sorry, why was that wrong to say?” 

“You”, he says.

“I don’t get it.”

He closes the distance and pulls you into his arms so he could kiss you. You gasp in surprise, finding no time to even close your eyes before he has already broken the kiss. He seems to be able to stand because he is currently carrying you in his arm, smiling up at you.

“Yeah, I’d have loved a family with you.”

“What?” you gasp, feeling your heart speed up unbearably.

“You didn’t even notice that you made yourself the mom of my hypothetical daughters did you?”

“Oh”, you hide away in his cheek, “oh god, I did that? Sorry, that’s so embarrassing.”

“No it’s not”, he assures you, turning his head so he could kiss the tip of your nose, “my love.”

“I guess I just really liked the thought of having daughters with you. You’d be such a good dad. Way too cautious, but I love that about you as well.”

“Mhm, you’d be the best mom as well. You dedicate your all when you love, so our daughters would have been so loved. And they’d have probably inherited our magic, so we could have taught them together. We could have taught them how to care for nature and how to use their magic for good and I’d have called you my three witch girls.”

“God Yoongi stop”, you snicker, “I don’t even wanna be pregnant, but when you talk like this Imma want you to knock me up”, you say and hide away in his neck.

He chuckles, “yeah, Imma want to knock you up too if we talk like this”, he confesses, bouncing you in his arm, “that is if my balls don’t fall off first. I love you, but I really gotta get outta that water now. My nipples might fall off too.”

“God, way to ruin the moment, you cold doofus”, you snicker, giving his neck a little bite as revenge. 

“Mhm, yeah”, he agrees and begins walking. He carries you until you and he are out of the water far enough that your butts are exposed. Then he lets you slide down his body slowly, setting you down carefully. 

“Do we even have towels?” he asks.

“Of course we do. I planned ahead”, you say, looking at the ground in order not to step on something sharp.

“Mhm, good.” 

You bend down and open the basket, retreating two towels. You turn and hand Yoongi the bigger one. He thanks you and begins drying himself off. You do the same, having your back turned to him because you don’t want to show him how you dry between your legs. Yoongi doesn’t mind because he feels shy about it himself, wrapping the towel tightly around his shoulders once he is done. 

You sit down on the blanket with a sigh. The towel is wrapped around your chest, keeping you covered that way. Yoongi sits down next to you, draping his arm behind your back. He steals a kiss from you, grinning at you afterwards. 

“The swim was nice”, he says, lowering his head so he could trail kisses up and down your exposed shoulder. He incorporates little nose touches every now and then, lulling you into a state of comfortable tingles.

“Yeah, it was nice. It wasn’t too scary for you, was it?”

“No, except for the frog.”

You laugh, “right, the frog.” 

He shudders, “it was rancid.”

“I can imagine”, you say and snicker, reaching up to play with his hair. You play around for a bit before finally scratching him behind his ear. 

Yoongi’s instinct is to purr, but it comes out as a really deep, human sound of comfort. He chuckles, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“I wanted to purr.” 

“Yeah, I know. I think it still sounded like one. You’re basically a cat in every life.”

“I guess I am”, he says and laughs softly, kissing your neck before sitting up, “fuck so stupid”, he murmurs, shaking his head fondly.

“No, it’s cute”, you say and lie down, looking up at the trees above your heads.

He keeps seated for now, looking at you. 

“What are we gonna do now?” you ask him.

“I don’t know. Sit around and do nothing?” he suggests.

“I like this idea. We could sort the wood later.”

“Mhm okay”, Yoongi agrees and lifts his eyes to let them race over the view. The lake, the forest, the wood piles and even more forest. 

“Did you sleep well today?” you ask him.

“I did. You?”

“Yeah me too.”

“Mhm, that’s good”, Yoongi hums and get on all fours, reaching for his clothes.

You glance at him, “what are you doing?”

“Getting dressed. Don’t look.”

“I won’t”, you promise and close your eyes. You feel no rush getting dressed, relaxing in the warm air as the faint sounds of Yoongi putting his clothes back on fill your ears.

Yoongi lets you know that you could look again by cradling your cheek and kissing your lips. You chuckle, opening your eyes. He is resting on his side, propped up on one elbow and with his arm draped around your chest. From what you can see, he put on his tanktop and jeans, but left the zipper open. It’s a sexy look because somehow the tanktop has slipped up his stomach far enough that you get glimpses of his happy trail.

You meet his eyes. The adoration is so obvious in them.

“What if we make it reality?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we have a family?”

You widen your eyes in surprise, holding your breath.

“We’ll buy a house somewhere, just big enough for four and with a big garden all around it. We’ll fill it with plants and flowers and we’ll renovate the house until it’s perfect”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah and then I’ll take the cure. I’ll become human again and I can give you children. What do you say?”

“Yoongi this is…this is a really big conversation to have right now.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. First we gotta teach you control and then try to make the cure work. We still have other things to worry about.”

“We can have this conversation again, you know? I just don’t have a good enough answer yet.”

“I know. I understand, I really do. I just got lost in my daydreaming.” 

“That’s okay. I liked this daydream as well. Especially the part with the little house with the garden.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Yeah.”

You sit up, “talk to me, my love”, you say, caressing his thigh gently.

He hesitates for a moment, but gives in when you kiss his shoulder, resting your cheek against it afterwards.

“Am I stealing you of something you really want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want children?”

“Oh.”

“Sorry”, he breaks eye contact, “I know this is another big fucking question to ask. I was just, I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid. Forget it.”

“No, tell me. It’s okay. I think a couple should have this conversation at some point.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he gnaws on his lower lip for a while, then speaks again, “I feel like I’m stealing you of something ‘cause I can’t give you children. You know?”

You shake your head, “I don’t feel this way. I never really dreamt of being pregnant, so I don’t think that I’m missing out on anything.”

“I just don’t want you to be unhappy with me. I can’t give you children with my cursed body, it’s so fucking infuriating.”

“Hey, my love”, you gasp, cupping his cheek to turn his head to you, “don’t talk like this again. I thought you didn’t want to take the cure anymore. Where is all this mortality talk coming from again?”

“I don’t know”, he whispers, looking helpless.

“Is the cure still important to you, my love? Honest answers only.”

“I don’t know”, he is shying away and so you give him his space.

“That’s okay. You know what? I’ll just get dressed real quick and if we still feel like talking afterwards, we can do that. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

You try not to rush because it gives both of you a chance to sort through your thoughts. You never dreamt of being pregnant. You also never wanted it. Perhaps you played with the thought of having children one day because you always loved the thought of taking care of someone, but you were also aware that “loving the thought of children” was not enough to make someone a good mother. You were “a thought” to your parents and it was you, innocent and needing of care like any child does, who carried the consequences of it. You never want a child to feel this way. And while you still liked the thought of children, you also knew that this wasn’t enough.

You fix the strap of your dress, looking at Yoongi. You are dressed. The conversation can continue or naturally die down. Both options are okay for you because you want both parties to be ready for it. You and Yoongi will have chances again if he doesn’t feel ready anymore.

“Do you still want to talk about it?” you ask him.

He touches the side of his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For panicking like this. I’m sorry, the talk in the water made my fucking thoughts race because you made yourself mother of my children and I got scared that I’m the reason you can’t have children one day. And, and that you’ll start to be unhappy and then you’ll start hating me because I’ll be the reason why you can’t have children.”

“No my love, you aren’t”, you assure him, “I told you that I don’t want to get pregnant and I really meant it. You don’t need to feel as if you’re stealing something from me. The one thing, I want most in life is to be with you.”

He smiles shyly, “I want this too”, he gazes at your lips, “like nothing else.”

“Me too, my love.”

He leans closer, “can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, you can.” 

With your consent, he leans in. You meet him in the middle. He is the one to pull back first.

“I’m sorry I said that. With the cure, I mean. I panicked, sorry. Yeah.”

“It’s okay, really”, you assure him, “I’m not angry at you.” 

“Yeah uhm, thank you for saying that”, he says and touches the side of his neck, “do you wanna see something?” he asks in hopes of changing the topic.

“Something?”

“Yeah. Uhm. Look.”

Yoongi scoots closer until your knees are almost touching. He props up one leg, resting his left arm over it. Then he lifts his right hand and snaps his fingers. 

Petals fly from his fingertips. Small and wilting. 

“Wait. One more chance, sorry I’m nervous”, he says.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous, you’re safe with me.”

Yoongi glances at you in shock. You give him a reassuring smile. He exhales deeply, shedding himself of so many burdens. He lowers his eyes to his hands and tries again, turning those petals into a small flower.

“Yoongi”, you gasp. 

He offers it to you.

“For you.”

“For me?” you accept it with a happy squeak, “Yoongi, you just used magic. Oh my god, my love. Wow, this flower is so pretty.”

“I’m still really rusty. Three thousand years is a long time.”

“I think you did an amazing job. Look, I got a flower. This is so amazing”, you say and giggle, “you used actual magic, my love.”

“I know. How was it? Was I cool?”

“You were the coolest, wow my love.”

Yoongi smiles fondly, running his hand up and down your thigh. His eyes lower giddily, studying your face. 

“I want to try the spell. What do I have to do?”

“Yeah? Wait, I’ll explain it to you.”

“Yes please, I’m so interested”, you say, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

“You see”, he begins, lifting his hand so you could see him move his fingers. Small pedals appear in the air above his hand, dancing around slowly with the movements of his fingers, “what I’m currently using is nature magic.” 

“Nature magic.”

“Exactly. When we speak of magic, not every magic is the same. We draw power from different elements, objects or concepts and depending on where we draw from, the magic manifests itself differently.” 

“I see. So dark magic draws power from darkness?”

“In a sense, but not really. Dark magic is everything which uses questionable power sources for its magic. Blood, pain, death. Those kind of things give you immense power, but the output will always be dark magic. You won’t really have healing results with these kind of power sources, you know?”

You nod your head, “it makes sense. If the source is bad, the result will be just as bad.”

“Exactly.”

“So nature magic is good?” 

“Obviously it depends again on what you channel. Fire will be powerful but destructive. Plants will be weaker but nurturing.”

“I see. So it’s really whatever you channel will put its essence into the magic.”

“Exactly.”

“What did you channel normally?”

“My emotions, just like you”, he says and caresses your hand, “that’s why it’s important for witches like us to learn control because emotions can be a brittle thing. Immensely powerful, but also unpredictable.”

“Because we can naturally feel both good and bad emotions. That’s why I destroy things when I’m upset and brighten a room when I’m happy. Because different emotions create different magic.”

“Yes this is correct. Wow, good job princess. You’re such a fast leaner”, he praises, making you giggle.

“Yeah, thank you heh.”

He snaps his fingers, creating another flower, “with time and control, witches will be able to channel from whatever they choose. Some like to become experts in one particular field and ignore the rest, some never really settle and are acceptable in countless fields, while others concentrate on a few until they mastered them.”

“Is there a limit to how many types you can master?” 

“Not really? But some sources are better left alone.”

“I know. I was just curious. I don’t ever want to channel stuff like pain or death.”

“Good. Please keep that in mind, princess. Those kinda sources poison you even if you’re careful. They even destroyed Nilrem in the end.”

“I know. I’m too scared to touch them. Believe me.”

“That’s my girl”, he pecks your cheek, “but to answer your question, in theory there is no limit to how many you can master. I think it’s a good idea to start off with fields that interest you, which benefit the kind of witch you want to be and which support each other. Plants and water for example. The moon and the stars is another favourite of many witches.”

“Wooah, you can channel the moon?”

“You can channel the moon, the stars, the sun and the planets. The moon works best however because of its already very strong influence on the planet.”

“That’s so amazing. I always loved the moon.”

“Yeah, the magic is very powerful and used for a lot of spells. Those spells are called night spells, because you perform them at night when the moon shines the brightest.”

“This is so interesting, wow”, you whisper, looking up at the sky, “so could you channel the sun right now? Because it’s day right now?”

Yoongi lifts his left hand. It begins glowing like a small sun would.

“Wow!” you gasp loudly, bouncing just once as excitement overtakes you.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” he asks just as the glow dies down again.

“That was so awesome, holy moly. Can I do that too?”

“One day, with lots of practice.”

“Wow, this is so cool”, you say and look at his right hand again. The flower petals are still dancing above his fingers, “so for this spell to work what did you channel?”

“Guess.”

“I would say plants because you created a flower.”

“Good job, that’s correct.”

You grin proudly. 

“Are you proud of me?”

“Very”, he says and kisses your cheek.

You giggle happily, feeling so good about the compliment.

“What do I have to do to make the spell work?” you ask him.

“First you have to visualize the flower in your head. Then you have to tap into your magic and feel how it connects with the magical auras of the plants around you.”

“So everything has a magical aura?”

“Yes, some stronger than others, which is why they are more powerful sources.”

“I see. So I have to visualise and then feel.”

“Exactly and when you feel the aura, you have to keep that connection going and your magic will automatically draw from it.”

“Okay, okay. So I’m gonna do it now”, you say and close your eyes. 

“Take your time. It’s difficult at first, so don’t worry if it still feels exhausting.”

You peel your eye open, glancing at him, “so it’ll get easier?”

“Of course it will. Once you’ve practiced a lot, drawing from your source will happen almost automatically. You’ll only really have to look for the connection with materials you’ve never used before.”

“Okay, okay I see”, you close your eye again, “I’m trying now.”

“Take your time.”

You don’t feel different at first. You are sitting on a blanket. Yoongi is with you. The sun is warm. The ground is hard. The water is cold, painting deep blues behind your lids.

“Huh?”

“You’re feeling the water, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Wow, it feels cold and never ending. It just flows and, and looks blue.”

“Good job, keep searching for more.”

The trees. Their aura looks like specks of green sunlight through a thick canopy. The sensation sways from side to side like trees sway in the wind.

“The trees sway.”

“Good job, you’re getting closer and closer.”

A mushroom. It’s magic flies like brown spores through the darkness. The scent of nourishing soil tickles your nose.

Suddenly a little jingle. Like that of the smallest of bells. The brown spores turn into white petals and the once muddy scent becomes floral.

“I think I’ve got it”, you say and sniffle, “wow, it smells so good.”

“Good job, you did it”, he praises, “now that you’ve tapped into the source, think of creating the flower with a snap of your finger and if you channelled your source correctly, it should appear just like it did with me.”

“Okay, okay so”, you say and snap your fingers, “hey! I did it!” you gasp and open your eyes, “oh…”

Dried, old petals lie in your palms. 

“Oh no”, you say sag your shoulders in defeat. You pout at him.

“Hey you made petals, that’s already a start. Keep doing what you did, nobody’s perfect with the first try.”

“Okay, okay”, you say and furrow your brows in concentration. You even stick your tongue out, making a little sound of hard work.

Yoongi smiles fondly, gazing at your features with soft eyes. He thinks that you are adorable when you concentrated really hard.

You snap your fingers. Petals shoot into the air like confetti.

“Wait. Again.”

Another snap of your fingers. The smallest, most delicate of flowers appears.

“Look! Yoongi, look! A flower!”

You hold it up before his eyes, bouncing on the spot in excitement.

“Good job, you did it”, Yoongi praises.

“It’s so small though”, you pout, “I wanted it to be bigger.”

“You made a flower, that’s already the first step. Try again.”

“Okay”, you say and pull your face of concentration.

Yoongi is melting. His heart is racing like crazy. He tilts his head to the side and blinks his eyes at you slowly. Look at you. Just fucking look at you.

“Woah! Look!”

Yoongi shifts his head to your hand. You are holding a blue flower between your fingers.

“A flower”, you squeak, waving it excitedly, “Yoongi, I made a flower!”

“I can see that, good job princess”, he smiles with you, “it’s such a pretty flower too.”

“Yeah, right? And look, it’s blue. Like your favourite colour.”

He meets your eyes. They are glowing in happiness. His heart flutters.

“It’s for you”, you whisper, “can I put it in your hair?”

“Yeah”, he whispers, holding his breath as you lean closer to put the flower in his hair. He looks at your face with parted lips, feeling his heart almost give up in his chest.

You tug a strand of hair behind his ear as well, running the back of your hand down his cheek last. 

“There we go, now you’re pretty.”

Your eyes meet. Yoongi is blushing. Even more than he does in the real world. 

You giggle and steal a kiss, nudging him with your nose afterwards. Yoongi lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing his nose against yours gently. He cups your cheek with his right hand and slides his left hand to the back of your head. He pushes you down onto the blanket for another kiss, knocking a sigh of his name out of you.

Here you are. Kissing instead of practicing magic. You smile into the kiss, hooking your arms behind his head. This isn’t the worst situation to be in. As a matter of fact, it is the loveliest of lovely situations to find yourselves in. He is between your legs, he is so warm and soft and comfortably heavy. You can feel his tummy against yours, his middle melted with yours and his heart sync with yours. You and he are so perfectly one right now and it’s the best thing to be.

The kiss only breaks because humans need to breathe. How annoying indeed.

Yoongi caresses your cheek with the tip of his nose, having his eyes closed. You have your eyes closed as well, playing with his hair slowly. It feels so soft between your fingers. So, so soft.

“I’m happy”, he confesses in a barely there whisper.

“I’m happy too, my love.” 

“I feel so young.”

You fix the position of your head and open your eyes so you could look at him, “you do? What does that mean?”

He lifts his head, looking at you as he talks. His thumbs caress your cheeks.

“I feel so human. I guess because I am, but this takes me back to my days as a magic student.”

“Yeah? Did you also lay under trees and practice magic?”

“I did, but not like this.”

“Not like this?”

“Not with the most beautiful woman by my side”, he rolls to his tummy and props himself up on his elbows, “not with the love of my life”, he adds and kisses your lips.

Your heart flutters like crazy and Yoongi’s does too. It flutters even more when you gaze at each other after the kiss. 

“Were you ever in love as a human?” you ask him.

“Not like I am with you. I had a love affair with a girl from my village, but I didn’t love her like I love you.”

“Did you ever love someone like you love me?”

“Of course I didn’t”, he says as his eyes race between yours, “why are you asking that? Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“No, of course not, I was just wondering. Three thousand years is a really long time.”

“I didn’t feel like I deserved to love or to be loved in return, so I never really tried looking for it.”

“I see. I’m sorry you had to feel this way. I hope you know that you deserve love and that you always did.”

He lowers his eyes shyly, nodding his head slowly.

“Good”, you say and ruffle his hair gently, “maybe I can be glad that you decided to be a loner. Means I had a chance with you.”

He laughs. You laugh with him. The mood has been lifted again.

“I guess yeah”, he says, giving your cheek a little pinch.

You scrunch your nose, feeling really happy. You love when he laughs. He is so pretty doing it. You reach up and trace his cheek most tenderly. Yoongi studies your features shyly.

“I think you and I would have been lovers at school”, you say.

“What do you mean?”

“If I was born back then and we went to Nilrem’s school together, we would have been school sweethearts. I think we would have practiced spells together just like we do right now.”

Yoongi smiles and kisses your cheek.

“Yes, we’d have done that.”

“Who do you think would have fallen first?”

“Probably me”, Yoongi says, “I’m too weak for you”, he adds in a breathy laugh.

“No, Yoongi”, you get out, “you are so sweet. I thought you would say me because I’m a hopeless romantic, but this is so much sweeter. You really would have fallen first?”

“Yeah”, he says, gazing at your lips, “you’d probably have been annoyed by my daydreams and laziness.”

“You’re not lazy.”

“Back then I was. I hated studying.”

You laugh. Yoongi smiles. 

“I still do.”

“And yet we met at uni.”

“Yeah, I hated every second of it.”

You laugh, “and yet you still went. I mean, I guess it was because of Alpha needing a babysitter.”

“Yeah seriously that’s the only reason I went. Stupid brats, they’re centuries old and decided to cosplay students. That’s the last thing I’d wanna be again.”

“But if they never did, we never would have met.”

“Right. That’s the only good thing coming out of it.”

“Can you imagine how that would have been? If you guys stayed at the estate and I just lived my life as a student? We would have only been twenty minutes apart and yet would have had no idea that we existed and how we could change each other’s lives.”

“Yeah…” he looks out at the lake. His eyes race from left to right as he is clearly thinking. His lips curl into a soft smile, “you have no idea what you did”, he speaks gently, “and how you changed me. Do you have an idea what you did? Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I spent three millennia looking for a cure to what I am just so I could die. Three millennia my dream was to die and I hated every day, month, year which passed where I was still alive. You make me grateful for every goddamn second I can spend on this earth.”

“I do?”

“You actually make me happy that I’m immortal because it means that I have all the fucking time in the world to love you and be with you.”

“Yoongi, my love”, you whisper, feeling so utterly overtaken by emotion.

“And I’m not saying this to be cheesy or, or romantic. I’m saying this because it’s the cold, hard truth. You make me wanna fucking live, ___”, he says with trembling emotion in his voice.

You choke down the tears threatening to spill, reaching over to hold his hand.

“I know”, you choke out, “but I can’t help to think it’s really romantic too”, you add in a breathy laugh.

Yoongi laughs just as breathily, “yeah.”

You and he spill tears. They’re not of bad nature and the soft laughs escaping you are proof enough. 

“I’m happy you feel this way, my love”, you say quietly, caressing his hand.

“I’m happy too. Being happy is so, so…so”, he touches his own chest and laughs as he talks, “worthwhile. It’s so worthwhile.”

“It is. It’s so worthwhile.”

He closes the distance between you and him and hugs you. He rests his head on your shoulder and his arm around your waist. 

“I think that we’re gonna have a happy eternity”, he says. 

“Yoongi, I love you”, you get out and hug him tightly, “shit, you got me crying again. Stop being so full of love. I can’t do this anymore.”

He chuckles, swaying you softly.

“I can’t help it. I want to be soft and full of love.” 

“And you are. Oh, you are so full of love. My softest love.” 

“I like this, yeah”, he says and giggles happily as he hugs you to him.

[biscuitboba]

Prepare for a very long wordvomits from yours truly (or just ignore)

The thing about me being so frickin obsessed with luffy and zoro's relationship is that... i just think they really are that compatible and perfect for each other in a way that they just, makes sense 

Like yeah i think one or two ships involving zoro and luffy (other than zolu/luzo) are cute or at least ok, but like the amount of love i have for them is like dust compared to my love for zolu:"D And if i'm being reallyy honest, personally i can't really imagine zoro being with someone else that's not luffy IF luffy is present in his life and vice versa?, like for example i think *insert other luffy ship* is cute, but like zoro can't be present in luffy's life for that ship to actually work for me?? So it's gotta be an alternative universe where they don't meet... I can appreciate the fanarts of the other luffy and zoro ships though, as long as they are not insanely wayyy too out of character?? (i just don't actively seek out content of ships that i'm not crazy about)

Not to state the obvious but luffy is my favorite character in one piece:) and right after him, unsurprisingly it's zoro (zoro used to be my number one when i was younger but now he is number two, but i'm sure zoro is fine with me loving his captain just a little bit more, haha)

When it comes to the ships involving my favorite character(s)... i am actually suuuper picky about it? i have to think very deeply about it, like i only want what's best for them, but also the best for the other person too cuz it can't be one sided! And i literally love both luffy and zoro almost equally? (actually i always love the two characters that i ship cuz i can't ship my favorite character with someone that i dislike) With zoro and luffy i've done a lot of thinking. Like, a lot. I thought about all of their potential love interests, every single one of them, but always arrived at the same conclusion that no one completes them the way they complete each other. Proof? Plz just scroll through my tumblr #zolu or #luzo i literally only talk about their relationship😭 They really are the most perfect person for each other. It's almost like they were made for each other? Everything about them, their principles, their personalites, they just fits

Like they are so insane, because at a surface level they can be interpreted as just platonic (which is a completely fine interpretation for the non zolu people out there!), but when you try to look more into it, on a deeper level, looking at every part of their interactions while considering their characterizations, motivations et cetera, like everything just clicks. Their devotion towards each other, all the little things they say and do relating to each other. They are best friends, they are the captain and the first mate, and maybe they are also something a lil bit more? Sometimes i don't even think i can label their relationship, cause from the outside… their relationship looks so simple, yet not without depth (so much depth!) and nuance. With zolu, you either get them or don't get them at all. One thing for sure is that they work really well together!!

Also, everytime i think about zolu as just friends.. but then i compare my relationship with my best friend(s) to luffy and zoro's relationship... and i don't know, if my best friend treats me the way zoro and luffy treat each other? I fear i will have to drop the "what are we?" question. I'm so serious, like that man? zoro?? He is enamored. Completely whipped- bewitched, body and soul. While on luffy's side, his way of expressing love is more subtle, but i've talked about that before here.

They say there's a thin line between love and hate... but there's also a thin line between platonic and romantic love, and maybe that's why one of my favorite tropes in ships is the one where they start out as friends... (harurin from free, bakudeku, pegoryu, fluri, soriku, cloti, cleon, kimron, percabeth, kataang, lumity, appledash, katyana, korrasami, harlivy, etc #friendstolovers ftw!)

Like luffy and zoro... The god personified and the non believer. Oda is literally so insane for that..

One is very carefree and easy to put his trust in others. And the other is the more rigid one and needs to slowly build his trust. One is the more emotional one. The other is the stoic and more composed one. They share the same values, the same braincells, they can communicate and understand each other even without having to say much.

Their colors complement each other, their zodiac signs are compatible, their personalites can be quite contrasting but they actually blend perfectly. They are different but also the same. No one makes zoro smile as much as luffy, no one else luffy likes to lean on as much as he likes to lean and rely on zoro. No one makes zoro worry as much as luffy, even though luffy himself is very strong. No one luffy trusts with his crew as much as he trusts them with zoro, and his nakama means everything to luffy. They are the happiest when they are together.. fighting side by side, laughing with each other, talking with each other... They respect and understand each other the most. They are just so insane and i am also insane and-

They are the only two strawhats with twin numbers for their birth dates and months. The only two strawhats with CoC. The only two strawhats fighting for the greatest titles (pirate king and world's greatest swordsman respectively) they are the only two strawhats with a lot of parallels (let it be between each other like the hero talk in fishman island, or with the other captains and their first mates, which i kinda(?) have talked about before, here).

Zoro's the only member of his crew that luffy actually tries to find (he doesn’t stumble upon him like how he does with the rest of the strawhats) Zoro is the first person in canon that we see luffy enthusiastically feel it's okay to share his meal with. The first person outside of his family (i consider shanks and his crew, dadan, and makino as part of his found family!) that he cries and worries for (baratie arc). Zoro is the first person that he mentions when he splits up with his crew and the first one he calls whenever they meet again (alabasta, skypiea, punk hazard, zou, etc)

Zoro is luffy's anchor especially during difficult times (e.g. water7), he is luffy's voice of reason (e.g. pre-egghead), and luffy often listens to him (like when zoro gives luffy his assessment of a situation and how he thinks they should handle the situation and luffy immediately agrees to his plan)

And kinda random but meat is like the perfect food for beer! luffy's perfect for zoro!! Meat paired with the right beer can amplify each other's flavors. Even their favorite food (luffy) and drink (zoro) complement each other, like oda are you serious?? and the crazy thing is i'm pretty sure i haven't written down all the things that make me crazy about them

From their deal in shells town, then BOOM! zoro's sacrifice in thriller bark, all the way to luffy's blush, the iconic hug, and whatever tf that "if you're gonna invite our captain to hell, i'll come along as well" // "sorry... now you have no reason to die" bs in wano

Like how can i be normal about the two characters whose dreams have already merged into one that they can no longer achieve their dreams without each other by their side? i'm on my knees crying thinking about the bond between luffy and zoro-

[irlrikomoriyama]

🗣️ (also sorry this got long, turns out i have thoughts) so like riko is one of the weirdest fandom cases i've ever seen. i've been in fandoms where characters who commit actual war crimes and genocide are badass babes or uwu soft bois, and even spoiled mafia brats who commit terrible crimes against the heroes for daddy's attention that get love and redemption. it's so weird to see just how isolated from all that riko is to me.

i do think it's partly how aftg is written, and that's also partly because niel's pov is not at all forgiving of riko, while is entirely forgiving of people like andrew. but i also think it's because of how riko himself is written. he's one of these characters that's better on paper than he is in the book to me. because he's never presented as smart enough to fall into the magnificent bastard trope where everyone applauds how devious his plans are, but he's not outright hammy enough to just be a fun read, he doesn't even get the same stupidly dramatic flare as andrew. and while we're told he's powerful and doing dangerous stuff, he's presented on page, more often than not, as a petulant child that neil is just done with or a guy who likes to torture people who neil is also done with. neil is never actually scared of riko, or even particularly threatened by him, and i think that hurts him and makes his position in the narrative weaker. especially when nora is trying to play him as a villain and a threat in a mafia story rather than a good old fashioned rival in a sports drama. for example, his first impression on the kathy show should live up to the hype of this imposing charismatic villain who broke kevin's hand, but instead loses him temper, forgets all of his media training and lets a nobody like neil goad him into losing control of the interview, and then his payback, things like shoving neil around and seth's death, are basically brushed off because neil doesn't really care that much. it's not given the weight to be a seriously omg this guys a threat first impression. and this isn't uncommon, lots of media hamstrings their villains at the start by making sure we know the main character is too sassy for them and can humiliate them, without thinking about how weak that can make the villain seem. it feels sometimes like nora wanted riko to be this chess master villain or tragic child who's lashing out at the world, without committing to it fully to either, or was just not an experienced enough writer to have known how to write either of those things in the pov of someone who hates riko's guts, which is understandable, writing is hard and that sort of nuance takes practice, especially if you just go by the books and not the extra content, and i do wonder how differently nora would have portrayed riko if she rewrote the main trilogy now with presumably a lot more practice under her belt. in the end riko ends up in this weird grey area to me where i understand why he's not popular, given he has none of the usual obvious traits that fans like to latch onto when redeeming a villainous character, and even the ones that are there are glossed over pretty quickly because of neil's pov, and a lot of his more interesting pieces are on paper not actively presented in the book, and not everyone reads super deep, but i also don't understand the amount of hate. i have literally never seen a character in any other fandom i've been in have this much fandom wide hatred.

See I have nothing to add here because you single handedly dropped the best analysis of Riko's character in the series I had pleasure to read so far and summed up all my feelings about why and what of the fandom. If the goal was to write a character that is impactful yet easy to hate then that goal was achieved but for me it real takes away form the magnitude of feelings Riko could evoke in reader and questions he could provoke in narrative if he was given bit different presentation that woudl still align with the lore we already have.

[renmedys]

SAY HELLO TO THE ANGELS

higuruma hiromi has killed for the first time and it makes him think of you. (or: now that he has killed, higuruma realizes that his condemnation of you those many years ago was, perhaps, wrong.)

pairing: higuruma hiromi/reader warnings: description of violence & murder, reader is a lil crazy words: 1.7k notes: title namesake is interpol's "say hello the angels"

HIGURUMA thinks of you often. At the heart of all his tolerance and patience and pro-bono work that he does, it’s you who reminds him that there are people worth saving. It’s you who reminds him that protecting the weak and fighting for those who cannot fight for themselves is a noble way of life. It is precisely because of people like you, who show no remorse or shame for the crimes they perpetrate, that he can continue to believe in those who are truly innocent. 

He had… disliked you, the first you met. Hate is too strong a word, and Higuruma makes a point to try and not hate his clients. He remembers being baffled by who you presented yourself to be, there in the detention center, a wall of glass between you. 

When he pulled the chair out, you’d looked up from inspecting your nails, around your wrists a pair of handcuffs that chained you to the table. He knows now that you could’ve broken free of those confines with ease. He saw your eyes rake over Higuruma’s neat suit and pristine appearance until they landed on his face. He watched your eyes flit about in the slightest of  circular movements, tracing the dark circles that had started to build beneath his eyes.

“You’re my lawyer?” you had said with a scornful laugh. 

Higuruma only sighed as he sat down, flipping open the case file he had brought along with him. “(l/n) (y/n),” he read, skimming through it. “You are charged with the murder of three adults and two children at 5:28 PM on March 23. I’ve reviewed your case, and I recommend that your course of action—”

“You think I did it, don’t you?”

Higuruma raises his gaze to yours. You have a crooked grin sitting on your face and a knowing look that makes Higuruma feel like you see right through him. It makes his skin crawl.

“No, I—”

“That’s alright, Mr. Rookie Lawyer,” you chirp. “I did do it. So I’m going to plead guilty.” Higuruma blinked, at a loss for words. “I killed them,” you say again, as if Higuruma didn’t hear you the first time, smiling without a care in the world. “I just wasn’t expecting to get caught.”

Your lawyer’s face was struggling to remain stoic, and you found that notion strangely pleasurable. Behind his eyes, you could tell that he was disgusted with you.

“Why?” he finally asked.

“I wanted to,” you shrugged. “I thought it’d be fun.”

“That’s it?”

“I thought it would make me happy,” you told him, “and isn’t that what life is? The pursuit of happiness.”

“For reasons like that,” he says slowly, “you murdered five people.”

“You look like you don’t know two things about happiness, Mr. Lawyer,” you said, wagging a finger at him. “You can look down on me all you want, but even you can see the difference between us. You’re not happy in that line of work, are you? It’s cute, you know, seeing these public servants preaching goodwill. What brought you to the law, Mr. Lawyer? Vocational calling? Were you one of those kids who thought you could make the world a better place? Did you think you’d be the valiant hero who defends the people wrongly accused? I bet you’re just overjoyed to be defending people like me—”

“Enough.”

Higuruma wanted to leave. The pressure of your gaze and corruption of your soul were the reason his job was so unbearable sometimes. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying. To kill for pleasure, for happiness—sure, he knows that people are twisted and have sick urges, but you believe your worlds so wholly that he cannot be sure any longer that these ideas can be boiled down to delusion. Perhaps some people are, at their core, just horrible beyond repair. 

“You can plead guilty,” he had said, standing to leave. He was wrong to take your case, no matter how desperate he was to get his practice off the ground. He had read your file, and assumed you were one of those people caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, who would think on first glance you had the capacity to rip out the hearts of three men and tear apart the bodies of two children? Yet after speaking to you, he realized he was wrong—and even if he wanted to believe, even if he knew defending you was the right thing to do, he could not deny that somewhere deep inside he despised you. “We’ll try and figure out a way to reduce your sentence. You can tell me the order of events in detail another time.”

But he never got the chance to see you again, because the next day he was served with a notice that you’d requested a new lawyer. Your case was open-shut, and the trial lasted barely an hour. He wondered how you could’ve ever been happy perpetrating violence.

Until now, years later, as his client is staring at him with contempt after all of Higuruma’s efforts and sleepless nights scrounging for evidence that would prove his innocence, he hadn’t a clue of what you meant about happiness. This case isn’t his fault. Higuruma Hiromi is not to blame for the gavel that is about to hand down his client’s sentence. The anger and hatred for the actions of higher authorities he is subjected to is not deserved. A man he worked tirelessly for, a man he believed in, a man for whose sake he had shown time and time again he would not give up on now looks at him with a stare that is icier than yours, and it fills him with a rage Higuruma doesn’t know how to calm. The ramblings of the court proceedings turn into garbled static as blood rises to his head. When he hears silence, Higuruma stands and demands a retrial on the spot.

In that moment, he wonders if killing them would make him happy.

HIGURUMA finds you in the same prison he first met you. The Culling Games had begun not long ago, and it’d been mere hours since he spent all his points on a new rule and transferred the remainder to Itadori Yuuji. Now that the onslaught of aggressors out for his life finally seemed to calm, he resumed his search for your whereabouts. The prison is within the boundaries of the colony he’s currently in, and when he arrives he finds the grounds desecrated by blood and ravaged bodies. He sees the decapitated head of a guard lying on the stone floor. For you to have survived—and he’s sure you have—you must be a strong jujutsu sorcerer. That makes your easy submission to the conviction of your crime those many years ago all the more puzzling.

In the chaos, most of the convicts escaped. Higuruma walks through empty hallways and pries open jammed doors, climbing over fallen rubble. He had half expected you to be gone as well, but he finds you in one of the cells, lying on the floor. With your hands behind your head, you look as if you’re on a grassy hill cloud watching, eyes closed in content.

“It wasn’t you,” is the first thing Higuruma says to you. This much is now clear with his newfound abilities.

“No,” you hum. “It was the curse I was there for.”

It makes more sense that way. “Are you one of them?” he asks. “Those sorcerers?”

You laugh. “No, no. Not for a long time now. Since even before I met you.”

“Ah.”

“So, why seek me out, Mr. Lawyer? You need some wisdom in this new world of yours?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I wanted to ask you something.”

You crack open an eye to peek at him. “I think I can guess what about.”

“Why did you plead guilty? You didn’t do it.”

Shrugging, you feel your shoulders brush against the concrete. “I wanted to see what it would be like.”

“That’s all?” he asks quietly.

“Isn’t wanting to enough justification?” you ask. Then you click your tongue. “I guess maybe not to a lawyer.”

“But you’re innocent.”

“For that crime, maybe. But I’ve killed before, for the same reasons I told you back then. And what about you, Mr. Lawyer? Are you still innocent?”

Higuruma lowers himself to the floor, sitting against a chunk of rock outside your cell. “No,” he says quietly. “No, I’m beyond saving, I think. When this is all over, I’m going to turn myself in.”

“Now why would you do that?” you tut, and Higuruma thinks it’s ironic you’d say that. Despite the ceiling and walls of your confines being blown apart and merely the remains of a wreckage, you act as though you are still trapped, not leaving. You’ve also willingly turned yourself in. 

“You've killed people too, (y/n)-san.”

“Plenty,” you confirm.

“I couldn’t understand you back then, when you said that you thought it might make you happy.”

“You still can’t, Mr. Lawyer.” His eyebrows raise slightly. “When you killed those people, how did you feel?”

You sit up now, turning your body towards him. Higuruma knows you’re a killer, and he figures that you could probably kill him in the blink of an eye. There’s no fear, though. He feels strangely calm in your presence, and it reminds him of all the cases he fought where he thought back to you. People who do not want to be saved cannot be. So all the other clients he had over the years, who pleaded innocent and needed someone to trust them—Higuruma knew that there was a chance for them to be absolved. You taught him that.

His eyes fall to the floor. “It felt awful.”

You let out a gentle laugh, retreating into the corner as you lay back down on the concrete, rolling onto your side so that your back faces Higuruma. “Then there’s still hope for you yet, Higuruma. You’re a lawyer, aren’t you? Protecting the weak is your job. Go.”

Higuruma seems somewhat moved by your words, and it is the first time he hears his name in your voice. He stands and dusts himself off. “After this, (y/n)-san, what will you do?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you tell him. “I’ll stay here, probably. At least until the games are over.”

“I’ll come back,” Higuruma then says, and this time it is his turn to catch you by surprise.

“Why bother?”

Higuruma’s lips curve upward slightly. “I just want to,” he says, and the sound of his fading footsteps make you wish that perhaps you had lived a more righteous life.

[myapothecarydiary]

Eunuchs, Value, and Appearance– Brief Thoughts on Beauty and Gender in The Apothecary Diaries Manga Volume 1

This is an offshoot of my thoughts from Ch. 4 of the manga, but it also connects greatly to Ch. 1, so a brief recap of where these thoughts sprung from:

As Maomao and Gaoshun go to investigate the "ghost" dancing on the palace wall, Maomao again reflects that Gaoshun doesn't look like a typical eunuch. Her first instinct upon meeting him was the classify him as a "military man" but because he was in the rear palace, he had to be a eunuch.

Meeting again, she thinks he looks "very masculine" and not "like a typical eunuch at all." In this moment, we get another example of Maomao's understanding of and perspective on eunuchs and gender being challenged. Or do we?

A product of her time and background, Maomao has a very specific and somewhat rigid way of thinking about gender. I think that perspective ebbs and flows, but it is very much informed by the outline provided to her by the society she exists within.

Sometimes, what first appears to challenge the constraints of that outline actually works to reaffirm it.

Gaoshun appearing more masculine and like a military man is not presented in the story to challenge a bias but it is Maomao's first clue that something else is going on with Gaoshun, that there's more to the story. It is not a purposeful reflection on gender by the author but a purposeful piece of a puzzle Maomao is solving within the story.

The same thing happens later when Maomao inspects Jinshi's body and sees it is more muscular than a eunuch's would be. Without further investigation, the presentation of eunuchs that don't fit the stereotype challenges that stereotype, but the truth of the matter actually kind of relies on and reaffirms those stereotypes. Gaoshun isn't just a eunuch and wasn't always a eunuch. Jinshi isn't a eunuch at all. If they didn't seem like regular eunuchs, it's because they are not.

[And if we flash forward to how another character is addressed–Maomao observes that Ah-Duo appears more masculine than feminine, which reminds her of Jinshi. Seems like a great challenge to gender norms, but then Maomao's bias/the binary is reinforced by the fact that Ah-Duo's womb was removed. Jinshi is castrated, thus more feminine and Ah-Duo had her womb removed, thus more masculine. Or so it seems to Maomao...]

And yet, just because these moments weren't included to say something about gender, it doesn't mean that nothing on that topic is being said. And the fact remains that Jinshi isn't actually castrated/a eunuch! So he works to both reinforce Maomao's views on gender and challenge them. Though he isn't actually a eunuch, he still appears very feminine. That is, arguably in part due to the drugs/forms of suppression he uses to assume his eunuch persona and operate in the rear palace, but even without those measures, Jinshi still possesses a great "feminine" beauty. He is sort of a contradictory figure in that sense.

With that, I wanted to circle back to something I noted in chapter 1. I noted that Maomao is "disappointed" when she realizes Jinshi is a man and that his beauty is not possessed by a woman. I thought of this point as contributing to the conversation around gender and around beauty within the story.

I also put a pin in the idea of how Maomao values beauty and recognizes how beauty gives someone value and specifically how Maomao views beauty as it relates to Jinshi–a waste on a man, disastrously powerful on a woman, extra wasteful on a man sans frog (aka castrated).

These fuzzy reflections got some great extra translation-related context from @amiriirish (thank you for that!), specifically regarding the line "A man? That's too bad," Maomao's thought when she realizes Jinshi isn't a woman. A more accurate translation would be "A man? What a waste" or as it is written in the GX version: “'タマナシだけどな…もったいない' which roughly translates to '(He) doesn’t have balls, though. What a waste.'"

I love how @amiriirish describes Maomao's perspective in this moment as one of "a scientist, not wanting to see good genes go to waste" as within the historical context of the setting, a person's purpose is to get married and have kids/keep the family line going/pass on their genes. Jinshi being castrated means he won't be able to produce any beautiful children and so his beauty is going to waste by not being passed down.

I was pretty vague in my initial thoughts, but I meant to sort of hand-wave at these ideas (albeit in a much less articulate way) and though I do think Maomao's sexuality is another interesting conversation (and I personally favor the interpretation of her as on the asexual + bisexual spectrums), I didn't mean to highlight Maomao's attraction to Jinshi during their first meeting but rather her recognizing his general attractiveness and beauty. Love bi Maomao, but I don't actually think she was attracted to Jinshi at that moment. Like with her view of the "wastefulness" of his beauty, she is looking at him like a scientist/as more of an observer than participant.

Maomao's introduction to Jinshi is the beginning of her generalizations about his beauty and how she positions herself as an outsider in those generalizations. Anyone would be attracted to him but that anyone does not refer to her. At least not yet.

Instead, I was thinking of Maomao's disappointment at Jinshi being a man rather than a woman as a reflection of her upbringing in the pleasure district and her familiarity with female beauty specifically.

We don't get a lot from Maomao about beauty or handsomeness in men. Or when we do, she seems even more removed from it. Like it isn't really worth noting. I think this is because she has learned how beauty can function as a sort of currency or tool for women.

Even in the very beginning of chapter 1, Maomao reflects on how a "pretty face" (and a voluptuous body) can lead to a woman rising through the ranks.

@teaflowsthroughthesesims discussed this further in some awesome expanded thoughts:

"In the circles [Maomao] runs in beauty is power, or a means of obtaining it, mostly but not exclusively for women. In her view, it's fitting that the powerful be beautiful, and expected that it be used as a weapon or tactic of controlling others.

Beauty is also tied up in desire towards others. The desire of a customer for a courtesan is due to beauty, the desire of an emperor for a concubine naturally falls on the lovely ones -- and [Maomao's] own undesirability is tied up in her lack of beauty (i.e chicken bones vs. abalone)."

"This is why she immediately sees Jinshi's flirting as a tactic - beauty is a tool to be used. Also, she chooses ways to describe Jinshi's beauty in terms of how it would control other people - 'a nation-toppling beauty' or 'a sex appeal that would drive both men and women mad' (paraphrased)."

"Aside from her upbringing in brothels, this is also probably why it doesn't 'work' on her - she is always expecting beauty to be used as a weapon or tool."

With that being said, I think Maomao views Jinshi's beauty as a waste on a eunuch and on a man both because it means that beauty will not be genetically passed on and because it means that beauty cannot be strategically used as a tool by a woman. But after this moment of meeting, Maomao will soon see how Jinshi, despite being a eunuch and a man, can use his beauty as a tool too. Something she probably knew was a thing already (men using their looks), just something she's not as familiar with.

I think there also remains a curiosity in Maomao regarding the concept of Jinshi as a woman, which we see again later when Maomao can't resist trying out lipstick on him to try and see what he might look like if he were a woman. There's perhaps something self-indulgent in that, as well as something that brings together the world Maomao knew before and the one she is coming to know. Thinking of Maomao as a scientist, it is a little experiment, but though Maomao is practical and her view of beauty is influenced by that, I think she is more than her practicality and pragmatism too.

More thoughts in this vein will surely come once we get to Maomao's reasons for using makeup to add freckles to her face!

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 10

Part 9

Shawn tried not to think too hard about his dad and his teacher dating. He knew his family was a little different than the others. Most people had two parents. But he’d never ask for his sire to show up. Never in a million years. He still remembered how bad it got. 

It made him a little wary of Mr. Munson. He didn’t think he’d ever hit his father. But sometimes pain wasn’t physical. Even when Billy hadn’t put his hands on Steve, the yelling had been horrible too. But Steve had been in love. And there had been a time when Billy cared for him. He’d told Shawn so.

Shawn couldn’t believe it. People in love didn’t do that kind of thing. People in love did things like go out on dates, gave each other gifts and scented each other nicely.

Like how Shawn could smell Mr. Munson on his dad. He probably wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was if not by his powers of deduction. They’d been sitting on his bed, his dad reading him a bedtime story. He didn’t bring up the scent, or how it made him feel nice. He just hoped Mr. Munson would stay around a while.

“Are you and Mr. Munson in love?”

Steve fumbled with the basketball in his hands and Shawn used the opportunity to steal it from him and go for a shot. He missed, but getting a steal from his dad was still nice.

“He and I are…dating, as you know”, Steve said, grabbing the ball as it bounced his way. “I think it’s a little too soon to be using words like ‘love’.”

“He’s over here a lot”, Shawn said.

Steve didn’t know how much he should read into that. Was Shawn saying he didn’t like Eddie being around so much? Did he feel like someone else was taking time away from Steve? It was hard to tell with his son sometimes what he was thinking.

“How come you always make me go out when he’s over?”

“I don’t always-”

“I know you’re going on a date every time I have a sleepover. And I’ve been having a lot of sleepovers lately.” Shawn’s expression was a little too mature for a child his age.

“First, don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Second, I thought you liked having sleepovers.”

“I do. I just don’t know why you don’t want me around Mr. Munson. I see him all day at school.”

Steve kept his body language nonchalant while dribbling the ball. “Well that’s just it. I figured you’d be sick of him. He’s at school AND at home?” He shot and the ball went right in. 

“If I score more than you, can we get ice cream?”

“Shawn, it’s January.”

“I want chocolate with gummy bears.”

Steve was still thinking of it a few days later when he had sent Shawn on yet another sleepover while he, Eddie, and Robin got drunk and gave powerpoint presentations on a subject of their choice. Robin was about ten slides deep into one about why TV shows sucked on writing lesbians on purpose but somehow made the most compelling character chemistry on accident.

At first, he’d been sitting close to Eddie, legs in his lap, playing with his hair but Steve had learned that Eddie never sat still for long. Every few slides, he’d jump up with an interjection and Steve knew if he didn’t want to flop off the couch, he’d better not get too tangled.

Robin was very open to discussion. Heated discussion but still. Steve finally cleared his throat when they started getting closer, hands moving wildly as they argued about the sexuality of Sandy the Squirrel.

“Hey, it’s Powerpoint Night, not debate night”, Steve said.

Robin gasped. “Steve! Can we have debate night. We finally have a third party to mediate.”

“What do you guys need a mediator for?”, Eddie asked.

“She has very strong opinions on salted caramel”, Steve said. “Your turn Eddie.”

Eddie got up, his presentation popping up as he cleared his throat. “Pluto’s Planet Status: Logic vs Sentimentality….”

Robin stayed the night, taking up the guest bed while Eddie went up to Steve’s room. He’d been inside before, but it always felt momentous. A space that not many had seen before and Steve was allowing him. They collapsed next to each other, limbs tangling through the night.

The next day, they got up, making a breakfast of sausage, eggs, and other greasy things to stave off any hangover symptoms. And before Eddie left, Steve asked a favor of him.

“Do you…mind scenting some of the pillows? Not for me, but for Shawn? I want to gauge his reaction to the idea of you becoming more…permanent.”

Eddie’s eyes got wide. “Do you want me to be more permanent?”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, moving in close to scent Eddie at his neck. “You’ve always smelled like safety to me. And now…you’re starting to smell like home.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, confirming that he felt the same. He wanted more of Steve’s scent around his own home. Eddie completed the favor, scenting the soft throw pillows on the couch. 

When Shawn got home, he had Steve spent most of the day inside, doing various things but when the sun set, they had a movie night. Steve tried not to look too giddy when Shawn grabbed one of the pillows and held it to his chest, nose pressed to it. His body language may have been neutral, but the happiness must’ve shown in his scent because Shawn started to cuddle up to him. His omega hindbrain was filled with thoughts he hadn’t allowed for a long time.

Good alpha. Safe. Perfect alpha. Perfect for pup. Need to scent pup. Need him scented by both. 

That was all Steve needed to move things up to the next step. He enacted it when picking Shawn up from school one day. He was mindful not to take up too much of Eddie’s time during dismissal, but Eddie always assured Steve that he’d rather talk to him than the other parents.

“What if you’ve got something important to tell them?”

“That’s what emails are for. And really, how many times can I say ‘your kid cried because someone looked at them’ or ‘ they’re chattier than a telemarketer’?”

Steve figured some things about being a teacher didn’t change all that much between the age groups. He built up his nerves to ask the question. He had already asked Shawn if it was okay and his pup was more than happy about it.

“You know, Shawn’s birthday is coming up soon. We usually go out and do whatever he wants. And we were wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

Eddie looked between them both, mouth agape and looking like he wanted to jump for joy, hug them both, and blast off like a rocket all at once. It really made Steve want to kiss him in front of all these people, parents, teachers and all.

“Hell yeah-I mean, y-yeah”, Eddie stuttered when he remembered where he was.

Shawn looked elated too and things couldn’t be more right.

And of course, that was when things started going wrong.

Part 11 coming soon

Tags

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

[jrow]

May Prompts (16)

Day 15 here.

Experiment

“It’ll be an experiment!”

He grimaces. Linda’s over-the-top cheeriness hardly breeds confidence, but she is his favourite nurse so he’ll give her a bit of leeway.

His recovery is going decently well, but his amnesia around the evening of the fall persists. It’s hardly surprising or worrying—these things take time his doctors keep saying, and it’s only been a couple days. But, his inability to remember what happened is eating away at him. He knows Sherlock isn’t sharing the full story.

He had mentioned his frustration to Linda and her eyes had lit up. She claimed to have had some success with helping patients with memory through guided visualization and said she would be happy to help John.

It’s funny that her calling it an experiment is what got John to finally agree. It reminded him of the type of argument Sherlock would make (although he would be far less peppy).

Linda lowers the lights before asking John to close his eyes and focus on his last memory from before waking up in hospital.

“I said goodbye to the staff at the nursery and Rosie and I started towards the tube.”

“Good, good. Tell me about what you remember about that moment.”

“The street was busy.”

“With who?”

“Oh loads of people. Looks like people going home from work.”

“Good, good. What’s the weather like?”

“Fine.”

“You can do better than that, John.”

A sigh. “It’s chilly, of course, but no wind. There hasn’t been a cloud in the sky all day. It’s nice…good weather. I hoped it would stay like that.”

“Why did you want it to stay like that?”

“Why wouldn’t …” A pause. “I’m nervous about rain.”

“Why, John?”

His heart starts racing. “If it rains, or god forbid snows, it’ll take longer to get to Baker Street. I don’t want to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“Meeting Sherlock for his birthday.” He tries to push ahead in the day, tries to remember meeting Sherlock, but he can’t. He hates it.

“Stay there, John. I can see you’re getting frustrated but it’ll come. You’re doing great. Just focus on getting to the tube.”

“I need to wrap his present before I go,” he blurts out without thinking. “Oh god.” He opens his eyes. “Sherlock’s birthday gift.”

“Are you okay?” Linda asks, gently, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder.

“Yeah, I just …” John says before trailing off. “I just remembered something,” he adds after a pause.

Before collecting Rosie he hadn’t been sure he’d have the balls to give Sherlock the gift, but in that moment he had decided. And once John Watson was sure of something … well nothing could have stopped him.

Nothing except a fall off a roof possibly. Possibly?

But, Sherlock said they met at the flat before heading out for cake. Which means John must have brought the gift. Which means …

There’s no way Sherlock opened it before John fell because they didn’t have cake. Gifts after cake, that’s the rule. So, either Sherlock opened it sometime in the last couple days and or it’s sitting unopened in the flat.

Either way Sherlock hasn’t mentioned it. That can’t be good, right?

“Why don’t you rest,” Linda says, interrupting his thoughts, knitting her brow.

“No, no, let’s keep going!” he says, closing his eyes tight. He needs to remember!

Linda chuckles. “Not now. Sadly, I do have other patients. And you should rest. I promise rest will make it easier.”

He huffs, but doesn’t argue. He opens his eyes and Linda gives him a smile before opening the door.

The constable who’s standing guard outside the room—he’s there on Greg’s orders officially, although everyone knows Mycroft is pulling the strings—pops his head in. “How are you doing, Mr. Watson?”

“Fine.”

Linda tsks. “Better than fine, I’d say. He is starting remember a bit. Not the events before the fall, but it’ come.”

“Oh?” Says the constable, eyes darting around the room. The man is visibly surprised and wonders what Greg has been telling the Yard about his injuries.

Linda smiles wide. “Only a matter of time.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

[preseriesdean]

if you don’t mind me asking, could you share some of your favorite fanfics or authors? thanks ❤️

oh hi hello!! yes of course!! i actually haven't read any spn fic in a while but i have spent a lot of time organizing my bookmarks. i'm going to assume that you meant samdean fic but i'll add a few non-samdean ones at the end.

authors!

@zmediaoutlet (deadlybride on ao3)

candle_beck (ao3)

@goshen-applecrumbledore (ao3)

whereupon (livejournal)

Linden (ao3)

sevenfists (ao3)

there are so many more great authors but these came to mind :)

fics!

i am going to list my forever-favorites first - the ones i would recommend to anyone and everyone, screaming-from-the-rooftops kind of love - and then many many more under the cut.

beloved by urchinesque (2016, 1.9k, NR, warning: death) It might be the gentlest thing that's ever happened to them.

in my opinion everyone should read this once. it's quick. they die. it's-- happy, somehow. beautiful. i think about it all the time.

Last Day on Earth by candle_beck (2009, 10.8k, E) A list of things to do if you only have one day to live, presented in inconvenient non-list form.

last year my best friend and i were pondering which fic felt quintessential to samdean for us and somehow settled on this one. i still agree with the choice.

Odysseus, American by coyotesuspect (2010, 10k, M) Dean finds Peter O'Toole's recording of the Odyssey in a bin marked “Audio" in Casa Grande's only used bookstore. The place smells like cigarette smoke and old books, and it reminds him of Sam. Stanford era.

my favorite stanford era fic. i think it captures dean's loneliness and desperation beautifully.

A man with his insides out and his outsides off by britomart_is (2016, 5.3k, E, time travel, underage) They say there are only two stories in the world: man goes on a journey, and stranger comes to town.

another fic i want everyone to read. it's so short and feels like a novel. sam is messed up and dean is in love and everything is miserable.

Breathing Hard by whereupon (2009, 9k, E) The day Dean figures it out.

this is so simple and yet-- everything to me. i can't think about dinosaurs without thinking about this fic, which doesn't tell you much, but you'll see. sometimes this is really all you need.

The Last Outpost of All That Is by gekizetsu (2008, 59k, E) The world ends while they’re asleep.

this fic has stayed with me my whole life. i thought about it even during my years away from spn and fandom entirely. they're alone and you don't know why and they build their life together and you end up wondering, is this hell or heaven? whenever i come across a screenshot of the last couple of paragraphs i want to cry.

see things so much clearer by deadlybride (2020, 11.7k, E) Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.

this is a fic that hits the spot for me personally so well. another favorite preseries fic. i love the idea of sam using livejournal, and of dean finding out this way.

Stay The Distance by lazy_daze (2011, 24k, E) Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.

i love enmeshment, and i love that here it's literal. i love that they're just sort of fine with it.

more fics below!

in absolutely no particular order whatsover. please check the warnings and tags on these before reading!

Recall by De_Nugis (2012, 6.3k, E) Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.

Living in god's blind spot by applecrumbledore (2022, 25k, E) Of all the situations Dean didn’t need his dad to see him in, ‘getting off to being pushed around by a guy’ was in the top three. And ‘a guy’ was a massive glossing-over of reality. Any guy—any other guy—would be bad enough, but Sam was fucking cataclysmic.

Almost At Home by balefully (2008, 24.3k, E) Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (2016, 7.4k, M) Sam gets his soul back on a Monday.

When I Fall Asleep It Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is (2009, 1.9k, E) Post-Season Two. Sam is alive. Dean is happy.

Life As We Know It by sevenfists (2007, 13.7k, M, curtain fic) On the morning that Sam woke up, Dean ran five red lights on the way to the hospital, his half-empty coffee cup sloshing in the holder.

tied up like two ships by orphan_account (2014, 3.1k, E) Dean liked to hold hands.

Gospel Truth by Cerberuss (2020, 15.2k, E, case fic) ‘DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW THAT YOU WANT HIM?’ Individually placed letters, bold and tinged brown with the weather. Sam can’t look away and he prays, dream dream dream.

Buy You A Mockingbird by candle_beck (2011, 10.3k, M, underage, outsider pov) A genuine horror story.

because you want to die for love by hathfrozen (2021, 27.3k, E) Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.

the constant vow by deadlybride (2022, 119k, E, fem dean-ish) They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym (2009, 10.8k, E) Sam really didn't do very well without his brother. Coda for Mystery Spot.

State of Love and Trust/As I Busted Down the Pretext by cormallen (2010, 2.9k, M) When you know exactly what your brother's thinking, there are some chances you just don't take.

Quiet with the Rain by Linden (2014, 5.3k, T) Dean can spot an undercover cop at thirty paces, a hooker at twenty, and rims that will match his baby's at ten. But the fact that his little brother is in love with him—that, he can't see worth a damn.

have a cigar by deadlybride (2020, 5.6k, E) What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive (2022, 18.5k, E, underage) Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.

Bare by gracerene (2022, 2.2k, T) Of all the things Dean hasn't done before, Sam never expected something as innocuous as skinny dipping to be on the list.

Speechless by candle_beck (2008, 11.2k, T, case fic) Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.

Like It Was Yesterday by nomelon (2014, 4.9k, T, fem dean, amnesia) Sam can't remember a time when Dean wasn't there. Dean is always with him. Sam's whole life, there's never been anyone else.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (2022, 46k, E) To cure Dean from the Mark of Cain, Sam has to let Dean, in all his demonic glory, possess him for 28 days. It goes about as well as expected.

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) by orphan_account (2021, 5.9k, E, pwp) Dean really likes the way Sam smells.

lost in yesterday by margaryes (2023, 1k, NR, john pov) John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.

Unraveling by Linden (2017, 855 words, E) No, he’d said, the first time Sammy had tried to kiss him, sixteen and half-drunk and stupidly beautiful, even though he’d wanted so badly to say yes.

pack up the moon by deathdreamt (2021, 5.9k, T, pre-slash) Sam storms back out from their room, his backpack on and his duffel hanging off his shoulder and isn’t it kind of tragic that his whole life fits in two bags. He looks suddenly much younger than he is, eyes shining. John is back at his guns, whiskey at his elbow, and Dean can hardly believe how rapidly his life is cracking down the centre.

Yesterday, minnesota by applecrumbledore (2022, 30k, E, case fic) Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope.

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness by orphan_account (2021, 5.6k, E) Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. (soulless sam)

The Palm Oasis by fictionallemons (2022, 12.3k, E, underage) John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam.

Other Brothers by homo_pink (2020, 7k, M, underage, outsider pov) A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Leader of the Pack by astolat (2007, 14.9k, E) Teaching old dogs new tricks.

Underground Wires by eggnogged (2012, 15.8k, E, fem sam, underage) It’s hard enough being a teenage girl even without all the extra crap: they move around all the time, her family is as far removed from normal as it’s possible to get, and she’s in love with her older brother. Sam has no control on any of it, she’s just trying to stay afloat.

Multitude of Sins by Linden (2015, 4.4k, T, outsider pov) Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.

Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName (2018, 10.3k, E, underage, dub con-ish, john pov) John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (2016, 5.6k, E) You can't spend what you ain't got, and you can't lose what you ain't never had.

Flagstaff by Linden (2014, 7.3k, T, pre-slash, john pov) John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter (2007, 3.8k, M, outsider pov) If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.

Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic (2012, 13.5k, E, non-con) Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again.

Someone Else's Blood by sevenfists (2006, 6.7k, E) The first time, of course, was an accident. (pretend dating)

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze (2009, 26k, E, swesson) AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Worthless cartography by applecrumbledore (2022, 15.6k, E) Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)

The Space Between Sense and Memory by orphan_account (2021, 4.8k, T) There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde (2019, 10.9k, E, case fic) When was the last time you trusted happy.

Crossed Wires by rivkat (2015, 10.9k, E) Dean thinks Sam is dead.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena (2010, 23.7k, E, underage) Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Wear Him Lika a Habit by sevenfists (2008, 2.2k, M) Their first kiss isn't an accident. It's anticipated well in advance, discussed for weeks, argued over, second-guessed.

Amor Prohibido by phoenixflight (2020, 3k, M, underage) They spent the spring of Sam's sophomore year living in a shitty apartment south of San Antonio. Every Friday night the clearest channel played three hour marathons of a Spanish soap called La Casa del Corazón. There was a mutually understood truce about watching it, because the alternatives were infomercials or creepy kids’ cartoons that futzed into static every fifteen seconds.

Open Road by Mollyamory (2010, 2k, T) Sam's old enough to know what's good for him.

It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu (2011, 38.4k, time travel) Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see.

North of Wednesday by Mollyamory (2008, 3.5k, G) Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Coda to Mystery Spot.

non-wincest fic.

dean/omc. We Drank a Thousand Times by glorious_spoon (2010, 43k, M, warning: death) They meet in a bar fight in North Carolina when Dean is nineteen, broke, and desperate, then again when a hunt brings the Winchesters into town a few years later. Neither one of them ever puts a name to it but every once in a while, through the years, Dean finds his way back.

dean/cas: terror & desire intertwined by rupertgayes (2022, 39k, M) Faced with Castiel suffering a fate worse than death, Dean makes the decision to let Cas use his body as a temporary vessel. All things considered, Dean thinks, it could have gone worse.

gen, sam&dean: what lasts by deadlybride (2021, 17.2k, M) Not long after they move into the bunker, Dean loses a leg. Most of a leg. After the hospital, Sam brings him home, and they figure out how to live with what remains.

gen, dean-centric: To Repair Broken Men by procrastin8or951 (2015, 3.1k, T) Dad and Sam keep fighting. Dean can't fix his family, so he fixes things around the crappy apartment they are staying in.

dean/michael: our hour came round at last by orphan_account (2015, 1.8k, NR, pwp) "I want to be inside you," says Michael, low and velvet and hungry and that really shouldn't turn Dean on but it does.

dean/lucifer, dean/cas: exploratory by sp8ce (2022, 4.9k, E, non-con) One night, Castiel proposes he and Dean have sex. Except it's a little more complicated than that.

dean/cas: for a healthy heart by Askance (2013, 2.4k, T) A strange black box appears in Castiel's bedroom one afternoon.

gen, sam&dean: charmer & gentle by Askance (2015, 3.7k, G, outsider pov) The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.

dean/cas, past sam/dean: whose wings, though tattered, shall carry me home by fleshflutter (2009, 2.2k, T) There is a breeze moving across the field. It stirs the long grass in lapping waves like the sea. Castiel runs his fingertips through it and remembers flying.

[babyblue711]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Alys Rivers - Part 1 Summary: Alys reflects on her time at Harrenhal under the reign of the Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen. Words: 2.6K

Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Dubcon, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, War Things, Typical Westeros Misogyny A/N: I fully realize not everyone is an Alys fan and that is perfectly fine. Perhaps once the show airs, I'll change my opinion too. But, as of right now, this is fanfiction and, therefore, my fantasy. I personally tried to humanize Alys, which I hope you all will see. As always, I love reading your thoughts, comments, and reblogs! 😘 And - No tag list since I don't know who will be in to Alysmond. 💙 Beta read by the Queen herself: @arcielee 💙 Beautiful banner gif by the one and only: @myfandomprompts

The prince was insatiable at times.

Sometimes he was gentle, sometimes rough. Though she never knew what she was going to get, the news from the battlefront and the state of affairs of the kingdom often foretold the sort of night she could expect from the Prince Regent.

With the weight of the green faction firmly resting on his shoulders, periodically he would be consumed by raw desire; he was fueled by passion, fueled by rage, fueled by an innate need to dominate and control, as certainty was a rare commodity given the unpredictable nature of war. On those nights, his touch was borderline cruel, harsh and demanding, and she would brace herself, anticipating the forcefulness with which he would claim her, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain as their bodies collided. She didn’t know how to tell him ‘no’. She didn’t think she could. She needed him just as much as he needed her… or so she was leading him to believe. 

But at other times, he would approach her with a soft touch, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along her skin, his words filled with warmth, just like the first night they spent together. Those were the nights when she had felt cherished and safe, enveloped in his affection and care. She couldn’t ever remember a time where any man of higher standing had ever worshiped her in such a tender way. 

Presently confined within the ominous black walls of Harrenhal, tonight she is suffering the prince’s wrath. The recent tidings are dire: Kings Landing has fallen into the hands of the enemy, igniting the red hot rage of the dragon. She knows Aemond feels solely responsible for this significant blow to their cause, for leaving his family unprotected as he seeks out his greatest foe, terrified of what is happening to those he has left behind. Tonight, he uses their intimacy as a conduit for his pent-up emotions, unleashing his fury upon her in a desperate attempt to find temporary respite from the anarchy gripping the Seven Kingdoms and the chaos of his own soul.

In the dimly lit chamber, the air is heavy with tension and the scent of burning candles. Pinned to the bed underneath him, his long fingered hand is wrapped firmly around her throat as he thrusts powerfully, hips snapping into her with a brutal force, a look of utter madness in his lone purple eye. His grip tightens on her throat as his unhinged gaze flicks from her bouncing breasts up to her face. 

“Why couldn’t you have told me about this before?” he demands with a harsh growl that echoes off the stone walls, his fingers digging into the delicate skin of her throat so that she can barely breathe, let alone articulate an answer. She chokes slightly, wrapping a dainty hand around his wrist, begging with her eyes for him to soften his grip, which mercifully he does so she can speak.

“My prince,” she gasps as he continues to rut into her, “My visions do not work on command…” She attempts to explain but anger clouds his face and his grip tightens once more on her throat, cutting off any further speech. The Prince Regent does not want to hear her excuses. His desperation and anger is evident in every movement, in every harsh word, in every mark he leaves upon her body. She clenches her jaw and tries not to whimper as his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her neck and breasts, afraid weakness will spur him on further; mentally, she tries to disassociate from what is currently happening to her. She is fully aware that he sees her as a means to an end, a tool to gain an advantage in the chaos of war; she purposefully has supplanted herself in this position, just as he is her mechanism for survival in return.

She knows deep down that she cannot fulfill his demands; her gifted visions do not bend to her whim or will, and she cannot control what they show her. To admit this to him would mean certain death, and so she bears the pain of his grip, the forcefulness of his thrusts, and the weight of his expectations, all while concealing the truth that she cannot deliver what he seeks.

With a guttural groan, his hips stutter as he spills deep inside of her, his fearsome eye closed in some semblance of bliss as he reaches his peak. Without acknowledging any need for her pleasure, he tucks himself back in his pants and departs the room in silence, his rage barely satiated. 

Alys lays upon the bed, her chest rising and falling to catch the breath withheld from her while caught in Aemond’s iron grip. She shifts slightly into a more comfortable position, feeling the slickness between her thighs and, despite his brutality, she quietly hopes for a silver-haired babe, further securing her own position and a testament to her worth.

She wonders if Aemond does not think she is capable of having children and, therefore, is much less cautious where he spills his seed. Her moon’s blood is late, but that is not unusual for her, though she still thinks it is too early to tell if they have been successful yet. She rests a hand on her lower belly, willing her womb to quicken, something that hasn’t happened in years. 

Exhaustion tugs at the corners of her eyes as she rests, waiting for her soreness and aches to lessen so she may get a few hours sleep. Sighing deeply, she stares into the dying flames of the fire in the hearth and reflects on the last few months of being caught up in this accursed Targaryen civil war. Life with Aemond is, at least, a little better than when Daemon ruled these halls. The Rogue Prince had been a formidable presence, his sharp eyes saw through her facade of obedience from the moment he landed astride his fiery red dragon. She had never underestimated him, knowing that he would not be easy prey to be fooled by her own ambitions.  

But when Aemond descended from the heavens upon his colossal, ancient dragon, Alys suspected the young Prince Regent to be a lot more volatile, and thus, a little more vulnerable than his formidable uncle. Aemond was desperate to prove himself in the ongoing war, his ego inflated by the fact that he commanded the largest dragon in existence. His mere presence struck fear into the hearts of warriors, who readily bowed before him as he issued commands with an air of undeniable authority. Yet, beneath his bravado, Alys discerned a deep-seated fear—that of failing his family and being perceived as a disappointment.

Recognizing these traits, she decided to try to leverage this to her advantage. She harbored no ill will toward the prince; in fact, she had developed a fondness for the young man during his stay at the fortress. But she knew that sentimentality had no place in the games of power and politics that defined their lives; the world was cruel, especially to lowborn women, and no one in her position would turn down such an opportunity to wield the influence that came with being entwined with a Targaryen Prince. 

It still took considerable effort to gain Aemond's trust, considering his sharp intellect and initial tendency to see her as nothing more than a lowborn woman with limited utility. However, upon learning that she had some experience with the healing arts, he tasked her with tending to the injuries of his soldiers, which she executed without fail. 

It was one fateful night that the prince called upon her for help with his own affliction - the vicious scar that marred the left side of his beautiful face. She concocted a poultice aimed at soothing the damaged nerves around his missing eye that was causing him some discomfort that particular night. Witnessing the visible relief on his face once she had applied it, and taking advantage of being alone with the prince for the first time, she seized the opportunity to subtly offer strategic information, mainly concerning Daemon's previous tenure at Harrenhal. Aware of Aemond's desperation for any advantage in the ongoing war, especially for any knowledge that had to do with his uncle, Aemond clung to anything she could tell him about Daemon and his war strategy. She was aware of just enough information to be deemed useful and what she wasn’t aware of, she may have elaborated just a bit, as the prince would never know. This gesture swiftly elevated her status in his eyes, securing her a place in his inner circle sooner than she had even anticipated. 

But it wasn’t only Aemond she had to charm; she also understood the importance of gaining favor with Ser Criston Cole, the Hand of the King and Aemond's second in command. Although she suspected that Ser Criston could occasionally see through her intentions, she had a knack for manipulating him too.

Late one evening, and after a few too many cups of wine, she prophesied his future, whispering words that she knew would resonate with him as they gazed into the flames of the fire. Men in positions of power and influence loved to be told exactly what they wanted to hear and Ser Criston was no exception. Soon, both he and Aemond would come to depend on her clairvoyance much more than either should, but war often strove men to desperate measures and she delicately played this hand when she had no other choice.

Another aspect she did not expect to contest came a few weeks after Aemond and his army came to stay at Harrenhal. It was Aemond who turned their relationship into something more physical; whether it was brought on by boredom or loneliness, she’ll likely never know, but she certainly had not anticipated becoming the Prince Regent’s bedmate. She remembered the night well, the way his fingertips grazed her wrist lightly as she poured him more wine. The intense look of his eye was…different that night, a primal look of longing coupled with a smoldering desire. The bulge in his pants was obvious and it was clear what was intended from her that night.

Worried to displease the prince by refusing him, she settled on her knees in front of him as he sat by the fire. She held his gaze as she slowly unlaced his breeches, pulling his thick, veiny cock from the confines of his trousers, and began pleasuring him with her mouth. Wetness had formed between her own thighs as she sucked him with abandon, enjoying the way his sharp face contorted with the gratification she was giving him. When he shot his seed down her throat, she expected that to be the end of it… until he asked her to show him how to pleasure her in return.

She could perfectly recall the earnest look in his eye as she stared at him with bewilderment; it was highly unusual for a man to be concerned with a woman’s pleasure, let alone a high-born royal like himself. After a moment’s hesitation, she willingly agreed to his request and they spent the night exploring each other’s bodies; she taught the prince about the bundle of nerves located above her entrance and the special spot buried deep inside her cunt. He was an excellent student, mastering her body quicker than she thought possible. His expression was hungry with intensity when he watched her unravel underneath him as she succumbed to his touch, and she knew this gave him a different sense of power over her body. She encouraged this, fully committing to being the prince’s loyal servant in all things, further gaining his trust and, in return, his protection. 

She lost count how many times she came that night during their passionate lovemaking, and her hopes ignited further when he shot his seed deep into her cunt. Since then, he had called upon her almost every night to visit his bed, torturing her deliciously as her velvet walls clenched around him repeatedly, milking him dry as her cries of ecstasy filled his room. Afterwards, she would pray to the gods to bless her with his child.

However, she was beginning to wonder if she had played her part just a little too well. Unfortunately, the prince, gaining confidence in their arrangement, had started to abuse his position of power, more often than not just using her body as a vessel for only his pleasure. Her disappointment was palpable; he had shown so much promise and she thought she could teach him to be different, that he would continue to treat her with respect.

But such wishes were not to be, as dark thoughts of the first time she had suffered the prince’s wrath resurfaced. On that fateful night, after a particularly fearsome thunderstorm culminating with bad news of the war beyond Harrenhal, Aemond and Vhagar had descended from the storm-stricken sky in a fury, his dragon’s wings clapping louder than the thunder itself. As was customary, she was summoned to his chambers. Lightning flashed as she entered his dimly lit room, illuminating his countenance —a hauntingly beautiful sight. But as she caught sight of his murderous expression, dread filled her gut and she knew she was about to face the consequences for whatever misfortune had transpired.

Afterwards, he seemed to emerge from a trance, apologizing to her as he gazed upon the red marks from his fingers on her neck, the bite marks on her breasts, the bruises that littered her body. She was dumbstruck once more, never had a man shown remorse for hurting her before. As their tryst continued, their passionate lovemaking became rougher and more animalistic, her own pleasure forgotten at times as he used her body as a means to his own end, but she made the best of it, knowing that to bear his child would outweigh her suffering and reward her tenfold. 

Back in the room, these memories of Aemond lulled her to sleep as she curled in his bed, warm and comfortable from the smolder in the hearth. The reprieve was short lived as she was roughly shaken awake, startling at his harsh touch.

“Wake up,” Aemond says gruffly. “We’re leaving.” He refuses to answer any of her questions, throwing clothes at her and telling her to get dressed in a hurry. She has no choice but to obey, noticing he has given her breeches to pull on as well as several warm layers, including riding boots and soft leather gloves. 

The moon shines brightly in the nighttime sky as Aemond takes her by the hand, leading her outside the gates of Harrenhal where the immense form of Vhagar looms in the distance. Alys pulls back on Aemond’s arm, terrified, slowing her pace, her unusual attire dawning on her as it is obvious that the prince means for her to fly on Vhagar. The energy that emanates from the massive dragon is unlike anything she has ever felt before. This was an intelligent being that could not be tricked by pretty words or prophetic visions that danced in the flames, for she was fire incarnate herself.

Feeling her tug on his arm, Aemond whirls to face her, impatient, furious. Vhagar rumbles like thunder from behind him, disturbed by her rider’s erratic energy, but makes no effort to move as she waits for him to mount her. 

“Aemond…” Alys starts to sputter, “I - I don’t think she’ll let me ride...?” Terror clutches at her throat as she tries to stress to him the dire warning in the pit of her stomach, but he only smirks, taking hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his breath fanning her face. 

“Vhagar does as I command,” he says confidently as if this could assuage her fear, “but I am going to need your help with something else.”

Part 2 - WIP

[ingravinoveritas]

angelsadvocate96 replied to your post “"And that's when I think, you know…I shouldn't...”

@ingravinoveritas And now you speak and we're all looking forward to what you're going to say. Just like Nye Bevan.

@angelsadvocate96 Aw, thank you so much. This is very, very sweet of you to say and I'm genuinely touched. I honestly...there is no part of me that is or will ever be like, "Yes, people want to hear what I have to say because I'm so important," solely because the experiences I had growing up laid down a foundation that meant I never believed anyone wanted to hear what I had to say, or ever would.

It's like when I give presentations and always tell audiences that I have a passionate dislike for the word "expert," because it carries with it an authority that can't be challenged. It often seems like the people who speak with such certainty and conviction about being right are the ones who sometimes know the least, but are the most unwilling to admit it. But I have a need to be almost hyperaware of what I don't know and to always be upfront about that, because the last thing I want is to be misunderstood or seen as something that I'm not.

In any case, your comment has made my whole day and means everything, and I'm really very grateful...

[oceansssblue]

I love Mermay! May I request a mer!reader x Sailor/Pirate!Fives? The reader is a siren and is technically supposed to be luring Fives and his friends to their deaths, but ends up not doing so after getting into a convo with him. When someone (Palpatine, Fox, random guy, whoever you want) does try to kill Fives, the reader is able to save him. Happy ending please!

Hi there! Yay! As I have said before, I will be writing all my requests, but MERMAY! requests have priority over others even though they have been requested on a later note!

Dear anon, ty for the request! We're def going for a "cruel" badass siren that will be to her surprise captivated with our charming pirate Fives. Palpatine is obviously the bad guy.

I don't know much about sailing and i'm trying to do a past era alternative universe thing, so ignore any incongruences and that.

I hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"A CHANGE OF CURRENT"

FIVES/MER!FREADER 📩💔💖

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DEATH, BLOOD, WOUNDS, CRUELTY, SIRENS KILLING/EATING HUMANS, BITES, SCARS. REFERENCES TO ECHO'S TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. DON'T GET SCARED. THIS IS MOSTLY FANTASY&MISTERY&FLUFF.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Being friends with the Captain doesn't allow you to lounge around, Fives" a voice almost identical to his teases him at his back.

The man in question turns around and grins. Echo has a half-fond, half-exasperated tiny little smile on his face. He's dressed in a similar way to him; thin linnen shirt with a deep opened v-neck and rolled up-pants, just in different tones of blue.

"Actually, it allows me to do exactly that" Fives retorts cheekily. Before Echo has a chance to put him into place, always the responsible of the two twins, he adds. "And I'll let you know lounging is a very important task on the "79's".

Echo arches an eyebrow. He crosses his arms in front of his chest; his hook just grazing the still pale skin of his left peck. Too much time spent trapped away from the sun.

"Is that so?" His brother humours him. The sun is hovering right upon them, bringing darker shades on Echo's already angular face. He's slowly filling out a bit, though, and for that Fives is glad. "How does that work, exactly?"

Fives tilts his head to the side. Echo always thought one of his twin's radiant smiles could iluminate any ship at the darkest of nights. That's the way he could eventually find the way back home, back to the 79's; Fives.

"Keeping a good mood is crutial to a ship's crew" his twin continues, going on one of his tangents. "It makes everyone work better, faster. Reduces fatigue and dangerous thoughts like plotting a mutiny".

Sometimes Echo wonders if Fives has all of this little stupid dialogues planned in his head just because, waiting for their chance to come up. The silliness of his twin's mind never ceases to surprise him; even after so many years of living together travelling through the seven seas.

"Like any of us would ever plot something of the sorts against Rex" Echo rolls his eyes, amused.

Fives shrugs, big smile still in his tanned face. They used to look so similar, Fives and him, before the accident. Now there are just... resemblances. Similarities. Probably the thing he hates the most about what happened –besides loosing his limbs–; how they had visually differentiated him so much of his twin, of his other half. For all Fives could be tiring and obnoxious, Echo knows he couldn't live without him. Even though getting used to his new body has been incredibly hard, he's glad for this second chance with him.

"I dunno' " Fives voice quickly brings him back to present time. He mimicks something dropping onto his head with his hands. "I think I'd look great with Captain Rex's hat".

Fives imitates the Captain's fierce expression and seriousness, still holding onto his imaginary pirate hat; and Echo can't keep the chuckles inside.

"You're a jokester, Fives".

His twin grins again.

"Don't make me repeat why that's important, now".

Echo smiles. Softly, this time.

Around them, at this time of the early afternoon, right after lunch, the crew of the 79' is surprisingly quiet and calm. The sea is peaceful today as well; nothing like the day before or the previous night. They're delving into dangerous waters, now. Places that don't quite appear on the map.

"What were you doing here anyways, all alone?" Echo asks.

Fives hums distractedly and glances in front of him again, at the sea; one leg staying inside the ship and the other dangling over board. The two of them have always been a little reckless like that; specially Fives.

"Thought I heard something" he whispers, then turns back to his twin again. His eyes suddenly look innocently young again, and his twin is suddenly reminded of past memories, of the two of them enlisting in the 79' when they were barely kids. "Do you think sirens really exist, brother?"

Echo sighs. They have all heard stories; but no one on board has ever personally seen one. He doesn't really know what to believe; could they be truly real, or are they just stories invented by lonely men that live by the sea?

"I don't know, Fives" he answers, going for honesty.

Fives hums, scanning the waters again; looking for something it's not quite there.

"If they do, do you think they're truly evil, like the stories tell?"

Echo stays quiet for some minutes. Then, he glances down at his hook; at the wood that replaces his legs. The skin that stays in contact with them feels sore and pained; he really should get some rest. He sighs, tired.

"I don't think so. If they do exist, and they do have something against us, I guess they'd just want to kill us directly, eliminate what they consider a danger and threat for their waters" he pauses and breathes in deeply. "I don't think they'd slowly torture us like humans do. We're the cruelest beings on land or not".

Fives golden eyes silently travel back to Echo's. He reads between the lines. He understands his point.

"You're probably right" he quietly answers, the moment unexpectedly delicate now. He shakes his head and smiles. Softer, gentle, now. "Come on. Let's go shut some eye".

Fives stands up with renewed energy, abandoning heavy feelings behind; and pats Echo's back affectionately. His twin nods knowingly, and follows him through the ship. Even though it doesn't mean he doesn't feel just as deeply –Maker knows he does–, Fives has never been one to hold up emotional conversations for too much time. They weigh heavy in his heart.

Echo takes his space on the thin cot –if you could call a bunch of old shredded clothes and blankets pushed together that– beside him and closes his eyes. Both of them, that night, dream of sirens and mermaids and all those stories the sailors spread around. They aren't aware how close they are to see some of those stories become alive.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You've been following them for two days now. Your job is to patrol the very limits of your world with the human's sea; and you were instantly alerted of their presence when they arrived, that enourmous ship of them difficult to miss.

It's not the biggest one you've seen. You had a fight with another one once, years ago; it's wood almost a dark black and it's sails a vibrant red. You still remember its name; Death Star. An aproppiate name for such an evil captain, such an evil ship. That fight was the main reason you had been assigned to keep all humans out of this waters; they just take and take, leaving nothing but destruction behind. You're not about to lose anyone else; not to the unforgiving, beautiful, yet terrifying sea, and definitively not to one of them.

This humans don't really seem to be looking for anything in particular. You had waited patiently, trying to find out their needs and wants; but reached no logical conclusion. They just seem to be... Wandering. Exploring. Ah, perhaps they're the curious ones. Many humans seem to be, just in the way young sirens are in their first years; wanting to swim through every single corner of the sea. See the world with their own eyes, and not through what elders tell them. You had been like that as well, in the past.

Mm. No matter. You're not putting the lifes of your people at risk just because these ones are looking fairly innocent. You know how quickly the tide can change directions, how surprising and dangerous the currents can be; and you're not going to let yourself be dragged by it. You'll do what you have to do; observe, wait patiently, and at night, lure them in. Your tongue wraps delicately around your sharp canines, excitement running through your veins.

You swim deeper into the sea below the ship. You almost feel impatient to play with them.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You curse under your breath, quickly hiding underwater when he almost catches sight of you while scanning the sea. You've seen this particular human before; often staring at the water or the horizon, a contemplative look on his face. He's a dreamer, this one; sometimes looking younger than you suppose he really is, others quickly snapping back to reality and jumping to his work with surprising skill. He's handsome as humans go; bronze skin looking smooth under the unforgiving sun and trained muscles peaking under his semi-transparent shirt. He has a strong jaw and nose, expressive eyebrows and golden eyes; a trait that somehow seems common with his fellow soldiers, maybe sharing the same origin, perhaps even some of them being family.

Watching him carefully under the distortion of the dark blue water, you're developed hearing catch a second voice entering the scene; and the human turns around in his precarious position on the border of the ship. This one is named "79's". It must be a reference to something you can't quite place; or perhaps a year of relevance to them.

Human tongue is quite easy to learn, contrary to your native Mando'a; so you have no trouble following the conversation even underwater. Both men hold affection clear in their voice; indicating a closer kind of relationship than two normal sailors on the same ship would have. The second voice sounds more mature to you; perhaps simply because this first human –Fives, you learn, what a curious name for a person– doesn't seem to take life very seriously. But then his voice drops, quietly asking something that makes your heart beat faster inside your chest; if your people are real.

It's a common thing to ponder between sailors. Humans like the tingling excitement of being a bit afraid; of imagining situations that may never end up happening in their heads. But no, this one doesn't sound at all afraid; just curious, cautious. When he asks his brother –you confirm– if he thinks stories about sirens are real, of what they do to humans, anger spreads like a fire inside of you. Oh, yes, because they don't do anything of the sorts to other creatures on this earth. The second voice –Echo's– answers in a quiet, delicate way; and you have to swim closer to surface just to take a look at him. You suddenly put things together; something horribly traumatic must have happened to his human, for him to look like that. You can't imagine living without your tail. It saddens you, inevitably; he's still handsome even like this, he would have been even prettier without his injuries. He would look like... Fives.

You blink, a bit confused at the direction of your own thoughts. Fives own voice tinges with understanding and fondness. He pats his brother affectionately, and then forgets about the sea; both of them quietly retiring for now, their steps echoing against the wood as they wook away.

You're left with a weird feeling inside of you. This two seemed... Kind. It isn't a word you usually associate with humans; but here you are.

You shake your head, mumbling to yourself. You won't let them fool you. Humans still carry all that darkness inside of them; that evil. You want none of that in your home, your sea.

Tomorrow, you say to yourself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fives smiles fondly at the sight of little 'Soka staring at the full moon in front of them. It's as big as they've ever seen it; very close to the sea, iluminating a silvery path towards the 79's in the otherwise dark night.

Ashoka is pure energy. The girl is hiperactive even at hours like this, were most of the crew has already gone to sleep; too excited to lay still in bed in the cabin she shares with Rex. The Captain of the 79's had adopted her many years ago, accepted her in his ship with a blink of an eye after finding out Ashoka had been abandoned in land by Captain Windu no less –an ex-friend and current enemy of Rex–; the small girl quickly falling under his wing like his own daughter. Fives can't understand how anyone could leave behind a kid like that; Ashoka is the only girl aboard, but she is like their own personal ray of sunlight. Hope. She's a special kid; has a perfect eye on when to pursue their enemies and when to abandon or change routes, an innate pirate even as young as she is. Fives can only try to imagine what things she would be able to do with more age and experience.

For now, though, 'Soka's just a kid. And kids do silly things; like playfully sticking out her tongue and precariously balancing her steps in the baupress of the 79's. Fives rolles his eyes good-naturatedly. He isn't too hard on the kid; he had been fearless and oblivious to danger once too. Hell, he still is, sometimes. It's just his way of being; free. He doesn't want to die by Rex hands if something happened to her, though, so he motions down with a flick of his hand.

"Get your feet down here, m' lady" he jokes, then extends his hand to hers in a courteous offer.

'Soka laughs, a sound that echoes softly in the silence of the night.

"Mm. I don't know if I shall accept such proposition, good sir" she answers, standing up in the thin baupress as if it is nothing.

Her dark black hair, looking almost blue, flies freely with the wind even with her white bandana wrapped around it. Her skin is as tanned as his, freckles tracing the outlines of the white scars that mark her otherwise perfect face. Like Fives and Echo, she has basically grown up on a moving ship.

"I'd like to keep my head, my lady, if you'd be so kind to help me" Fives insists, eyes turning to a gentle warning.

Ashoka rolls her big blue eyes.

"Okay..." she grumbles, then, abandoning the theatricality.

She turns her direction with flowless agility and starts her careful way back to him.

The ship rocks dangerously in the water –the sea not completely peaceful today–, and Ashoka stops in surprise and fear, holding her balance as best as she can. Fives also holds his breath. The 79's stops moving and they both sigh in relief, staring at each other well aware of the risks.

The girl chuckles nervously.

"Welp, that was a close one." She guiltily admits, restarting her way towards him. "I keep forgetting this waters are dangerous and not exactly what we're used to, huh?"

Fives doesn't tear his eyes from her.

"Yeah" he agrees. "Maybe you should leave your acrobatics for when we're back on the GAR sea..."

Big, angry waves splashes against the botton of the ship again; a sudden move that disestabilises Ashoka for a second time. It all happens too fast; the girl's right feet steps just on the edge of the baupress, losing balance, and her weight leans too much over one side with a terrified gasp. By the time Fives has rushed forward in a desperate attempt to catch her hand, Ashoka has already been devoured by the dark see with a dooming splash.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You smirk darkly when the sound of a body hitting the surface of the water is transmitted under the waves. You almost want to laugh at the way the small human desperately moves his legs to try to stay afloat; the sea isn't looking good for creatures without fins tonight, and it is obvious that this female doesn't even know how to properly swim even in calm circumstances. Maybe it's just because she's small, you're not sure.

You strike at her –harshly tugging her leg down and sinking her under the surface– right when another body drops into the sea. You snarl, irritated by the interuption, and turn around, scanning the water around you. Just five or six meters away, there he is; the human named Fives, the dreamer, the one who almost discovered you ahead of time.

This one does now how to swim. Even though his eyes are clearly pannicked, searching for her fellow human companion among the darkness of the black waves, his legs calmly move just enough to keep him afloat; conserving very much needed energy. His clothes are stuck to his body; both humans look so utterly small in the openness of the water...

The small female human screams, terrified, still not grasping her new reality; and the man shouts her name in a hoarse voice, squinting and desperately trying to find her. The girl goes to shout again; and your clawed hand quickly reaches up to close around her throat –not to really cut her breathing of, but as a warning–. You're not known for your patience, and you really can't stand creatures screeching.

Fives golden eyes, still having a shine to them with the moonlight, finally turns to your direction; and his whole face morphs into wonder, fear and shock, quickly taking in your claws and sharp teeth, the gills on the side of your neck and the dangerous swoosh of the powerful tail behind you. The small girl trembles in your strong arms; you glance down at her, bored but curious at the same time. She really is the smallest human you have crossed pass with. Are those marks that shine white on her face scars?

"Please" Fives voice barely picks up with the sounds of the waves and the wind. "You don't want to hurt her".

His words and his firm stare stuns you for a second. Then, you laugh out loud, the sound being carried away by the howling wind.

You haven't used the human tongue for so long... Since that fight. You'd be kind to humour this human for now. Perhaps getting to know them for a bit before eliminating them would help you understand them better and kill them easier in the future. For as small as humans are, they do make interesting big weapons.

"Don't I?" You smirk, tongue wrapping teasingly around your rigth canine. You caress the girl's hair with the hand that is not carefully holding her against her throat. You push your nose up to her neck and smell; then tilt your face back to the male. "Mm. Perhaps not hurt her. Just quickly kill her, no pain".

Fives trembles in the cold of the sea. The girl too. You grin.

"Why?" Is his pained answer. He's trying to remain calm, you can see that, even if his insides live in complete turmoil. "To eat her?"

You make a face.

"No. Human is not my favorite kind of dish" you inmediately answer, then shrug desinterested. "You kill us, I kill you first. It's the sea's law, sailor".

Fives frowns.

"We kill you? I didn't even know you truly existed until now" he points out.

Ah, humans are such natural spokesperson. Always finding an argument no matter their cause.

"You're people" you correct, drawing a claw down the girls face, not enough to draw blood from it, just a distracted caress.

Fives face... Pouts.

"That's pretty unfair, if I may say so. You can't blame a whole species in the name of a few".

You let your gaze find his eyes again. He's so determined it's entertaining to watch.

"You claim you're different?" You ask, observing him.

He nods.

You can see the fatigue starting to creep onto him. You're holding the freezing girl with your own strength, but he's on his own. You wonder how much longer would he be able to stay afloat. Maybe you should just wait and watch him sink.

"See those scars on Ashoka's face?" His words pull your attention back at her white marks. She tries to stay still while you study her. "They were made by bad people. Cruel humans. My brother Echo suffered by others as well. And yet here we are. I love Ashoka as if she were my own sister. I love my twin. I'd do everything to protect them. I don't want to cause pain to them".

You huf.

"That's easy. No one wants to hurt people that are dear to them. What about other's that aren't? Would you care?"

Fives is stubborn. You'll give him that.

"I wouldn't purposedly hurt others for the sake of doing so. Or if there's any other way. Look, there... Must be some bad sirens too. People who just enjoy killing and hunting indefense creatures just because they feel joy watching them suffer; not a matter of protecting their home or territory. And there must be good ones" he breathes raggedly. "It's the same with humans. There is evil and kindness in every living being. If you'd only gave us a chance, you'd be able to see it".

You hum. He makes a point. The excitement melts down. Your curiosity doesn't. Are all humans this interesting?

"What is your Captain looking for in this waters, Fives?"

His mouth opens in surprise.

"You..."

"Know you?" You chuckle, moving your tail slowly. "Mm. I've been studying you for days, I know some things. The answer, sailor?"

Fives forces himself to push through his shock and confussion to answer you.

"We've been paid handsomely to explore this part of the Unkown Seas. We have a cartographer aboard, he's been working nonstop since we crossed the GAR frontier."

You hum, recalling those maps the humans use to sail the seas without getting too lost of their way.

"So there's nothing you want from us?" You insist.

To your shock, Fives smiles; a small, almost cheeky tug of lips.

"Well, I do have a lot of questions about sirens now that I've seen you, but no, not really. Like I said, we didn't even know you truly existed. We just want to make our trip and return to land safely".

You observe him in silence. You feel the girls energy draining too; blinking heavily.

"Mm" you hum, pushing her against his arms in a second. Fives stares at you, wide eyed, not expecting you to move that fast. "You can call for your human friends to help, sailor. I've decided I will just keep an eye on your ship for now".

Then, before Fives has the chance to answer, you tear your hands away from the girl and dissapear under the sea.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fives receives the reprimand of his life at Rex's personal delivery. He's task with leaving the ship shiny up and down; Ashoka also punished along him. If there's something the Captain of the 79's doesn't show, it's mercy. Oh, he's polite and gentle enough, if the situation calls for it; but he doesn't let things slip by. He's always aware, always scanning his crew with his amber eyes; and even though both 'Soka and Fives had tried to make the incident sound less of a danger, just an unimportant accident, there's really no way going around the fact that they had had a very close, dangerous encounter with a Siren.

Rex doesn't believe them at first. But then he sees the light marks on Ashoka's neck; there's nothing deep or worrying, but they're definitely shaped like some kind of claws, and he know's his fair number of fish and sharks to know they can't have done anything of the sort. Fives is guilty, yes, but he seems honest when he retells the experience. Ashoka too, a pleading look of forgiveness in her big blue eyes. Rex has no other option than to accept the story as truth.

Everyone on board of the 79's has the chance to see said siren with their own eyes a pair of days later. It's at night, so no one really sees her for quite some time; til Ashoka suddenly gasps and points out towards the see with wonder –and a sliver of fear– in her eyes. Rex quickly squints and stares in surprise. Well, that's a siren all right. The Captain and his men only have time to observe her for a minute before she smirks and plunges down into the water, her tail a silent goodbye.

Fives grins and elbows Echo.

"See? What a stalker. I think she likes me" he jokes, and Echo rolls his eyes pushing him with an exasperated smile.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Morning, dear siren" Fives greets you, carefully using the ropes to lower himself with his feet against the outside of the ship's structure, still on his shining the 79's duty. "How has sleep being under there?"

You splash him with your tail in irritation. There's no peace with the sailor around; and he has developed the annoying habit of periodically coming to talk to you.

Fives gasps with the cold water drenching his clothes; but his face quickly morphs from surprise to cheerful amusement.

"Why, thank you. I did notice I had started to smell too" he then smirks and studies your body up and down in a way that makes you as mad as nervous. "Darling, if you just wanted to see me wet, though... There's better ways we can enjoy together."

Even though there's a blush fighting it's way through your face, you keep your expresion neutral and narrow your eyes at him.

"You're the most annoying human I've ever met".

Five grins; as if your words were a personal compliment for him.

"You're magnificent company as well, dear siren" he retorts, unbothered.

You tilt your head, glancing up at him. It's both funny and irritating the way this human talks to you. He should fear you; you could jump up right now and kill him in a blink, and yet he's always like this around you. Curious, awed, and cautious while being impossibly and purposedly irritating as well. You wonder if it's his weird human way of making friends.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fives reintroduces a wary Ashoka to you. It's only sensitive for her to be cautious; after all, you did have your claws around her neck not so long ago. After Fives' reassurance and a few patient words on your part, though, she quickly leaves the past behind; and watches Fives' careless and friendly interaction with you with bright eyes.

You grow fond of her as the days pass. It surprises you the way the girl seems atuned to other creatures of the sea; smaller ones like rain-fishes and seahorses always curiously coming up to meet her. You've heard of people like her before; humans with a special conection to the sea, with an instinctual understanding of it. Your people believe humans too came from the sea; and some just happen to conserve traits of their real origins more than others. If so, Ashoka is definitively one of them; and perhaps any of these sailors that seem for some reason persistent on spending more time at sea than in true land.

One late afternoon you ask Fives of this; of his will of travelling through the seas. You ask him wether he misses land, other human civilizations and things; but Fives shruggs with a smile. He tells you he likes it here, aboard on the 79's with his brothers, his family; and opens up about his own past as well. You listen to him mesmerised; feeling again like a kid whose being told interesting stories of lands far away.

After Fives finishes his and Echo's story –their misfortune making a strong feeling of protectiveness soar inside of you–, he glances at you with a tilt of his head, suddenly quiet and pensive.

"Plus" he continues, voice barely a whisper. "There's a certain peace you can't find anywhere else but the sea".

Even though his words are carefully soft and his demeanour almost shy –very uncharasteristal of him–, his bright eyes are full of heavy emotions; almost wanting to tell you a story different than what his words tell you. Almost whispering to you there's something more to his words than what they say.

You sink under the surface of the sea so only your eyes are peaking above the waves; needing the comfort of the water to hold his stare, this sudden shift on the atmosphere.

Fives hums, and you take a last look at him before dissapearing under the sea, running away from the human who's starting to make you feel things you haven't –and shouldn't– felt before.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Rutine makes you complacent. You get so relaxed at the knowledge that the 79's is no risk to you or your species you forget to stay vigilant; forget that they're not the only possible danger at the sea.

It happens at night; when your senses are dulled by sleep, your body curled in a tight space between the rocks at the bottom of the sea. Your return to consciousnes is a slow and lazy process. You open your mouth wide before momentarily clenching your teeth; the rest of your body muscles tensing and relaxing as well with your tiny stretch. Your eyes open and you focus on your surroundings; it doesn't feel like you've slept more than a pair of hours, and you usually don't have a problem to shut the eye throughout the whole night. Something must have awaken you subsconciously. You've long learned to trust your instintcs, so you decide to explore the sea around your little safe spot for the night before trying to get some more sleep. Maybe there's a predator around here.

It's when you swim away from the rocks you've hid in when you inmediately notice what's wrong; your too far away from the surface for the water to feel agitated here, but when you glance up, you see the usually dark ocean lit up in orange and red. The inmediate thought of the humans –of Ashoka and Fives– being in danger crosses your mind; and you're swimming up, up, up, before you're able to realise it yourself.

Your head peaks through the surface of the water and you can't help but gasp, eyes widenned in fear. The 79's wrecked. Besides it... So is the Death Star. Both ships have been fighting for who knows how long and you were peacefully asleep. It fills you with a dangerous wave of guilt; and unstopable anger. This is the ship that cost you the live of some of your best friends. This is the reason your people is no longer friendly towards humans; the pain of the past reflected on scars and lost ones. Some part of you is afraid –terrified– of facing said captain and crew again; the other part of you feels ravenous. This is your chance of revenge.

You sink under the water and sing. It's a song every siren child is taught by their elders; a call for help no one ever ignores. Sirens will stop at nothing for their people, their pods. Your voice carries easily through the water; and you hear a distant echo answering you. You know it's only a matter of time your people arrive. You'll help however you can in the mean time.

Your trained eyes and senses zoom in the fight aboard of the 79's. The men of the Death Star are dressed in black, like a bad omen; the colourful splashes belonging to Captain Rex' men. Both ships aren't the only battlefield; some are even fighting in the water, perhaps after pushing each other over board, some swinging their blades on top of smaller life-boats and lost planks of woods. The repair for what's left of both ships would be slow and costly.

You sink under the waves and move fast; jumping and dragging the 79's enemies with you underwater, drowning them or sinking your claws in their vulnerable throats, their screams futile under the water.

You can't see Fives or Ashoka yet; but just as the first of your fellow sirens arrive, you see Palpatine and Rex. They're fighting on the Death Star; blades swinging at each other while they expertly balance on the edge of the ship. You stop right below them and stare intently upwards; trying to catch the Captain's attention.

You do. Rex' eyes flicker downwards; making contact with yours. He quickly goes back to fighting against Captain Palpatine –how such an old man can move that fast you'll never know– and you wait patiently, licking your lips. You know Rex has catched on your idea and you only need to give him some time to bring him to you.

It's not a difficult move. With the knowledge that you'll be there to push him again back to safety and simultaneously kill his enemy, Rex throws his own body weight against Palpatine with all his strength and they both fall into the sea.

You almost see it happening in slow motion, such is your desire to claw your way through him. You're closing your hand around his throat in a blink, as soon as his body crashes against the waves; eyes shining and jaw opening to show your teeth while you push your face close to his. You want him to have a good look at you before you kill him.

"This is for Qui, Plo and Aayla" you tell him, eyes burning in hatred and vengance, his pathetic tugs at your hands only fueling your resolve. "And for those you'll never be able to hurt again".

You don't let him speak his last words. He doesn't deserve it; and he's not going to rat his way out of this. You snarl and sink your sharp teeth in his neck, closing your jaw before vicously pulling back and tearing his throat open mercilessly.

The carcass of his body floats away in the sea.

You turn to Captain Rex, scarlet blood dripping down your chin. He's not scared; but almost proud and relieved as he nods at you. You nod back and quickly help him get to the 79's again, reuniting with your people and organizising the counter-attack.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Once Palpatine is out of the way, the rest of his forces crumbles easily. In a matter of an hour, the few survivors of the Death Star scramble away in the remaning of their ship. You chuckle darkly. You know it's all for the enjoyment of your people; they'll do a slow hunt over the next couple of days, kill them one by one. Take their own personal revenge.

There's a conmotion up on the 79's. Rex is there, and so is Echo and Ashoka, the last two leaning down on the floor next to... Fives.

"What's wrong?" You quickly voice up from your place on the sea. "Is he okay?"

Captain Rex glances down at you worriedly.

"Blade sunk into his liver. He's loosing a lot of blood very quickly" he turns to look back to Echo and Ashoka. His expression saddens. "I... Don't think he has much time left".

Your heart starts beating out of your chest.

Fives, even gravely injured, lets out a wet laugh and jokes about it.

"I always thought you were a tad dramatic, sir".

Echo snaps at him, still squeezing his hand. You understand the sentiment. Now is not the time.

"Shut the fuck up, Fives".

You know he's scared. Everyone is scared. Echo, Ashoka, Fives, Rex... Even yourself. You've never felt this scared.

"B-bring him down" you whisper, then clear your voice and repeat yourself. "Maybe I can do something to help him".

"What can you do to help him?" Echo laughs, the kind of maniac sounding laugh that comes from a place of pure panic and terror from losing a loved one. "You're what, going to sing a song and magically cure him?"

It would be surprising to know that yes, that's...

"Something like that, yeah" you whisper, lost in your own feelings and thoughts.

You feel some of the other sirens splashing and moving their tails underwater hesitantly, wary. Nervously.

"Sister..." the voice of your friend Kid calls you from somewhere at your back.

You glance back at him. You know what he's going to tell you. You take a deep breath.

"I want to do it" you answer him, and everyone else.

They stay in silence, acepting your decission. It's a sacred thing for your species; for all sirens. The air feels heavy with understanding and expectations.

"Bring him down" you ask again, in the quietness of the night, and Rex gently squeezes Echo's shoulder before putting his faith on you and carefully laying Fives down in the last life-boat.

His brothers slowly lower it down til it softly contacts with the surface of the water and the small boat floats peacefully with the small waves. Two sirens quickly move to take a carefull hold of it so it doesn't drift away.

Fives turns his head to the side to look at you; hovering besides the boat with your claws lightly grassping the wood at the sides of it, head peaking over the water just enough to be able to look at him.

"Hey there, gorgeous" he smiles, and such brightness sends another painful dart to your heart. "Here to give me a goodbye kiss?"

Your own smile is wet with tears. It makes you let out a wet chuckle too. You haven't cried in... So many years.

"You should have thought of this strategy before" you decide to indulge him in his joke.

You know he's scared even if he doesn't want it to show. It males your decision easier; to know he's such a good person he doesn't want to make this more difficult for the people that woud be forced to watch him go.

Even though you feel almost eager for it, the need crawling up your throat, you're still afraid yourself. You've only got one chance for this. What if... It doesn't work?

You feel Kid's hand gently dropping on your shoulder, giving you the strength you need for this. You nod to yourself. The rest of the sirens form a circle around you; as tradition tells. They'll make sure nothing interrupts this sacred moment between you and Fives. Your hands tremble as you carefully place them on top of Fives' stomach wound. He makes a whimpered sound of pain and trembles, scared confused eyes quickly searching yours.

You look at him, soft.

"Trust me" you whisper. "And don't stop looking at me".

Fives doesn't understand what's happening, what's going to happen, but relaxes and nods. He can feel the exhaustion creeping in on him, the tempting feeling to close his eyes and surrender to the darkness. He focuses on you with the last of his strength.

You stop holding yourself back and let your voice sing your Song. You have never practiced it before; it's something that simply can't be, as it's not written before the moment arrives without announcement. It's instinctual, as simple and easy as breathing, and yet sounds so magical to all of those who hear it.

The first notes echoes in the silence of the night. It starts very quiet, almost a hum between your pressed lips, that slowly and unhurriesly turns into a whisper full of longing and melancholy. Fives is a human and you're a siren. It's not going to be easy. You have a feeling he won't care.

The Song fills with some softer, happier notes; lively and changing, more rythmical than the soft melody from before. A tiny smile makes it over to your face.

Fives is still looking at you. He wouldn't have been able to tear his eyes from you even if he tried. You're raw magic; raw beauty. And the sounds leaving your lips... He had never listened to anything so breathtaking in his life. He's hooked up in you.

Your gaze turns soft. You see his wound closing and healing by its self with just the corner of your eyes; and a warming relief spreads through your body, along with something sweet and gentle, painfully raw, longing and understanding. It's love.

The Song reflects those feelings; growing quieter as you keep staring into Fives' soul. You feel the notes slowing, your mind and heart finally wrapping around your feelings, accepting them, making them part of your own; and a last hum leaves your lips before the night is silent again, only interrupted by Fives' heavy breathing. Even if the Song is finished, he keeps looking at you like there's nothing else.

"That was beautiful" he whispers, dizziness still numbing his body and mind even if he's completely healed, now. He'll take some time to adjust. "Thank you".

You smile softly.

This is not your ending, Fives. But you need to...

The sailor squeezes his eyes shut. A painful headache stars at the side of his temple. He can barely concentrate in his surroundings now.

"Rest, Fives" you tell him, and he finally falls into unconsciousness almost instantly.

You glance up, noticing the wowed stares of the crew of the 79'.

"What was that?" Ashoka whispers in wonder.

You make Captain Rex a sign to let him now they can pull the small boat back up. You smile at the girl.

"My Song" you answer, misteriously. You glance at Echo, anxiously curved forward as if in a try to reach Fives quicker. You try to soothe his worries before dipping under the waves. "He'll be okay, just needs some hours of rest. I'll come back tomorrow".

With that, you nod to your pod and you slowly swim away. Your soul tries to tug you back towards him, but you comfort yourself thinking you'll be back to talk with him after some very much needed rest.

Patience.

You feel like a baby Siren again.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Care to explain to me what kind of voodo magic you did to me to turn me from a corpse to my handsome self again?" is what Fives first chirps at you upon seing you arrive the next morning, him waiting patiently for you in the small boat again, this time a bit further away from the 79's.

You smirk and place your folded arms over the border of the boat, resting your right cheek on top of them.

"I already told Ashoka" you answer playfully. "It's my Song".

Fives snorts and carefully pushes himself closer to you. You track the movement, distracted.

"Yeah, your song" he repeats, squinting and tilting his head in questioning. "Echo told me the other Sirens acted as if we were getting married or something".

You laugh freely, Fives smiling unconsciously.

"Well, singing your song to another holds pretty much the same meaning for my people. Your circumstances pushed me to do it way earlier than I would have prefered but... It's okay. You're okay".

Fives eyes turn soft.

"I know you love being all sexy and misterious. But tell me what has really happened, please?" His voice is also gentle and full of warmth.

He should know.

"All Sirens have a special personal Song. It's something instinctual that can't be repeated or prepared; born of raw feelings, desires and needs. It's different to other songs we sing. We don't use our normal vocal cords for this; it comes from somewhere within, deep in your soul. Sirens believe our kind are made of magic and music combined into one, and protected by a physical body shape; that of a predator so it can defend the pureness it holds. This Song... Can only be sung once, to just one other being, and it will create a special bond no-one but the two of them would be able to break. From that day on, this two beings will always be linked to each other, perhaps even able to feel or hear the other; and the Siren won't be able to sing in this kind of way to anyone else, ever again".

You grow quiet; waiting, patient. Expectant. Fives barely blinks.

You're not afraid to him not corresponding your feelings now. If it were that way, your Song wouldn't have worked the night before. A Song can't be an impossed thing; it must be accepted by the other's soul. Fives has subsconciously done that already; if his present mind needs more time to process it, nevertheless, you're willing to give him that.

Fives finally takes a deep breath in, noding in quiet understanding, before showing you his own signature smirk and closing the distances between your faces so that your nose is barely grazing his.

"Well. I think I'm definitively finally winning a kiss" he tempts you, eyes shining with mirth.

Your small laugh is pure unadulterated happiness. With your soul almost vibrating inside your chest, you cup his strong jaw and close the insignificant distance between you.

You kiss him –passionately, then gently– and Fives smiles against your lips.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I'm sorry this took me ages to write! I got a bit blocked on how I was going to put Fives in danger and I also started with my finals.

I'm aware there are some errors in this but I prioriticed publishing it as soon as possible over having a second read to correct them. Sorry!

I hope you've liked it, dear. Second Mermay fic done, go check Tech's first one on my profile! (It's on: sw masterlist> 2 part of requests > Blue dreams).

Got requests closed cause finals and already a few of them in the line. I'll prob reopen in a month. If you want to you can still send them, just notice I'm not gonna be able to write it anytime soon.

Lots of things to come, stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

[jeons-catalyst]

I'm writing this ask with the supposition that jikook are a couple - this is based on guessing and cannot be confirmed in any way at present and everything I'm writing next is subject to that. Just wanted to get that out of the way.

The thing that gets to me is when people say in a superior tone "oh do you think he would act like that if he was his boyfriend?". Firstly of course they're not going to openly do coupley things - everyone knows BTS is intimate so jikook can get away with a couple of things here and there but they're not actually a public couple that can always openly behave like that especially as they grew bigger and bigger.

Secondly, and this is for when either of them do something that gets overanalyzed to death like if they select another person first on a team or talk about someone else in an interview or go on a trip / outing without the other or make fun of each other for something even if it's a bit insensitive and people will chuckle and say "would a couple behave like this?" and this drives me crazy because as someone in a long term relationship with couple friends who are older who are also in long term relationships - YES! Couples DO behave like this! Of course the ones that go overboard with all this are toxic but regular people relationships aren't the same as what you read in romance novels where a single misstep or a slightly off conversation makes you realize that person isn't the one. Even when you enjoy being with each other all the time, its also normal to go on trips with your friends and spend time with them too.

Like I said in the beginning, jikook may not necessarily be together but when jikook-antis bring out absolutely normal things and use that as evidence for them being distant, it always drives me nuts. Even if you yourself are in some idyllic 10 year relationship where you're always attached at the hip to each other and have never said something dumb to your partner, surely you've seen other couples exhibit this behaviour? It vexes me! I'm vexed! Vexed enough to use the word vex, maybe for the first time!

Don’t be vexxed anon lol.

You have literally said everything i had in mind. One of the stupidest things i hear people say all the time is “Do you think Jikook will behave like this if they are a couple” or “do you think the company will let them do this or that if they are a couple?”

First of all, i think so many times people forget that none of us are Jimin or Jungkook and the fact that you cannot imagine yourself behaving the same way if you were in their shoes doesn’t mean that they won’t. The circumstances that Jimin and Jungkook are in are very unique circumstances and i say unique because i don’t think any of us can stand and say, “i know exactly what it feels like to be a member of the biggest boy band in the world, who happens to be queer, living in a homophobic country and is in a romantic relationship with a same sex bandmate.” How many of us can say this? Literally none of us so no matter how much we try to understand it, we will never completely get it because we just haven’t walked in those shoes.

It’s nobody’s place to say with certainty that “they would never do this” because you don’t know that. Ofcourse nobody would expect Jimin and Jungkook to kiss or have sex infront of the cameras but there are certain things they could do maybe because they know they can get away with it. People also forget that Jimin and Jungkook are human beings which means that they would slip up sometimes and that is how we find out certain things. No matter how much they want to, they cannot always be 100% careful. Something they feel things and want to act on them and then you see them trying to catch themselves midway probably because they just became aware again that they are in public or infront of cameras.

This momen right here is open for interpretation and it is extremely short but no matter how i think about it, i cannot explain why in that state of joy, Jk immediately went towards Jimin and then took a detour just as he got close to him and then pay attention to Jimin too. It most definitely looked to me like he was about to cup Jk face or something and then quickly withdrew his hands.

So sometimes it definitely feels like they mess up and that is how we “catch” them.

Another thing that many people just do not consider is that all the members are close to each other. They literally lived untop of each other for so long and shared everything with each other. Jk is not supposed to only hang out with Jimin just because they might be in a romantic relationship. Jk is not supposed to think that Jimin is the best at everything just because Jimin might be his boyfriend. Jk can choose other members over Jimin for different things and Jimin can do the same. Jimin and Jungkook can hang out with other members, go on trips with other members or even share certain things first with other members. This is 100% normal and the people who don’t know this either have no experience in healthy relationships or are just being trolls. I have gone on so many trips with my best friend without our significant others. We have hung out together so many times alone or with other friends, and there is certain things i would prefer to share first with my friends before i share with significant other. All these things are 100% normal so when i see people who use these things to try to debunk jikook, it really makes me laugh because what hole did you crawl out from to not even understand the basics of healthy relationships?

Couples tease each other all the time especially the ones who start out as friends or are already secure in their relationship. Plus, people also forget that these are guys. You cannot compare gay relationships with straight relationships and especially ones like these where they most likely started out as friends before things developed into more and that excessive teasing which people like to use to debunk jikook actually shows how close and comfortable those two are with each other because you don’t tease people as much unless you have a very close relationship with them and understand that they won’t take your teasing personally. Plus, with relationships like this which they are forced to hide from the world, those two have to find different ways to make things fun for them. A regular couple would openly flirt with each other in obvious ways but who people who are closeted, they may find different ways to do it which are not very obvious.

The anti shippers or rival shippers always come with shit like this thinking they are so smart but they don’t even realize that they are comparing Jimin and Jungkook to normal couples even though there us literally nothing “normal” about Jimin and Jungkook’s circumstances (assuming they are actually more than friends).

So anon, don’t let these things vex you lol. Everybody doesn’t have the mental capacity to understand complex situations because everyone tends to oversimplify everything. Plus, not everyone has experience in real life relationships. All they know are fanfics, romance novels and movies so when they see reality, they call it toxic or fake.