#insinuation of past SA

[smnthchrstn]

see a list of prompts here. send a request here. see my previous work here, here, here & here. thank you! i don't currently take anons for my own safety and sanity, but if you have a private request feel free to message me and i can post it without using your url! notes: word count is 1,644. austin is your coworker, you're both working side by side on the bikeriders. he helps ground you after a ptsd episode. tw for mentions of sa/assault/past abuse. dedication: this one shot is dedicated to my gf @vintagecherri may we always be able to comfort each other in our darkest times. thank you for teaching and reminding me to always be gentle with myself, even when i feel i have failed the most. xoxo

safe here with me | austin butler x reader

"And cut!"

You sucked in a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed and then open again as you tried to regain your composure. That scene had really gotten to you, and you'd nailed it on the first go. You almost had forgotten about the man sitting in the same room as you. His eyes grew from vacancy to attentive, searching your face for some sign that you were doing okay. Your breathing became a bit jagged as the director told everyone they'd done a fantastic job and that they'd be moving on for the day.

The man across from you was your co-star, Austin. And you two had been getting to know each other for quite some time, especially since arriving in Cincinnati to film a movie about a biker club from the 1960s. You played his wife, he played your husband - a wild, crazy, pained young man who got a thrill out of doing the most dangerous things and not caring what anyone thought about it. You'd learned, in time, that Austin was the complete opposite. Most of the time anyway. You'd developed a friendship, although sometimes it seemed like more. You knew he looked at everyone like that, like they were the world's greatest treasure in his eyes. He had a way of captivating people and making them feel as if they were the only other person on earth.

"Hey, Y/N," a low and gravel-y voice asked, and you'd realized he'd been saying it for a few moments at least. Your eyes had glazed over, your hands were shaking as you wrapped your arms around your frame. "Are you okay?" the blonde man before you asked, his eyes filled with worry as he saw the way you'd reacted since the day had been called. "I..yes," you finally mustered enough courage up to answer. "Yes. I'm fine." You took a very shaky breath, running both hands through your long hair. "Completely fine." Austin finally stood, holding his hand out to help you up, and you took the help. He led you back outside to his trailer, holding the door for you and you felt inclined to join him, to follow.

"Hey, you know," he tried to begin saying, a little unsure of his own words. "You know, I don't have to tell you that I wouldn't necessarily react the way my character would to anything said or done." And with that, he walked to his mini fridge and got you out a cold water before taking a seat. You nodded, still a little jumbled up with your words. "I know, it's acting," you responded knowingly. Austin nodded, reaching beside him to pull a cigarette from his pack, placing it between his lips and lighting it. He took a deep drag into his lungs, flicking the ashes away into one of his own homemade ashtrays. You still felt small. You always did when topics like that would come up.

"I know that scene was a little heavy," he said, the smoke billowing around him in a cloud. "Yeah, I mean, it's okay," you said easily enough, with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. "I'm more than capable of handling serious scenes." Sure, you hadn't had too much practice before this with acting, but you'd done well enough to nail the part and you'd been doing a fantastic job. "Oh no, no, Y/N. I wasn't trying to insinuate at all that you aren't meant to be here. You are, you are the best scene partner I could ask for. I've loved getting to know you and becoming your friend," Austin explained, pausing to take another puff of his cigarette. You weren't sure where he'd been trying to go with this conversation. "I couldn't help but notice the way you mentally checked out after that scene, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

--------------------------------------------

"Don't you, get away from me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs. Your chest burned, your stomach throbbed, everything inside you felt torn apart and hurt, broken and unfixable. And even after you'd received medical attention it still hurt. For days, for weeks, months, even years. You had residual pain that wouldn't go away, you'd been to the hospital and you'd seen doctors, and you had the nightmares that would wake you up in tears some nights. The assault had made your life a living hell, one that you often hadn't wanted to wake up from. You'd thought of countless ways to end it, to stop the pain from continuing.

--------------------------------------------

Big hands moved over your shaky ones, holding them in place. "Hey." His cigarette had been put out since you'd involuntarily closed your eyes. Your breathing became uneven, you were having trouble catching your breath. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, softening his voice, calming blue eyes filled with worry. "S-sorry," you managed to stutter. If you could think straight you would've been so embarrassed. Having such a massive panic attack in front of your new friend and co-star, not to mention a guy that you were absolutely smitten with was mortifying for you. It had been years, you thought you'd been "over" this. Austin placed a hand on your cheek, moving his thumb over your jaw and checking you over. He reached down and over, taking your wrist gently between two fingers and counting in his head. He did that for a moment or two before shaking his head. "Come sit next to me," he said, holding his arm out for you to come closer. "Please." You shakily moved to sit beside him and didn't protest when he pulled you in against his chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. "You're safe," he assured you in a low tone. He hadn't the slightest idea of what you'd gone through, but he knew what a panic attack looked like and what trauma looked like - and he knew you'd experienced something horrendous in your past. Austin worked to keep his breathing and heart rate steady, wanting to help to ground you as much as he could. You could hear the gentle lub-dubs in his chest, the soft beating that kept him alive. and it did soothe you unlike anything else had before. You felt his hand on your back, rubbing in gentle circles, breathing loudly as to remind you that it was okay to breathe and that filling your lungs with air would be a good thing, maybe the best thing for you right now.

After some time, he took your pulse again wanting to make sure that your heart rate had come down some. "There we go, slowly making its way down," he murmured, keeping you close to him, still pressed against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat grounded you and you thought maybe you’d be able to talk a little about what had happened during that scene. “Reminded me of something that happened a few years back,” you began. “With my ex-boyfriend. Hadn’t been dating that long or anything and,” she said, shaking her head a little. “He, he told me he’d stop,” you whispered, giving him a heartbreaking look. “He promised he would stop before he even started but he didn’t,” you whispered, beginning to cry again. “He broke my trust. He didn’t stop and it happened. And, and,” you said, your lungs aching from the gasps you were making. “I, and I,” you tried to say, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your head spinning. You could feel yourself back there again as your breathing became more and more labored. “Someone took advantage of you,” you finally heard the deep voice say. “Yes. Yeah, my ex-boyfriend hurt me. And that scene reminded me of that. I’m sorry, I’m a professional. I, I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered.

It didn’t surprise you when you felt his fingers against your wrist again, searching for the magic number of beats per minute, wanting to help bring you back down to earth if he could. “Hey, take a few deep breaths, okay? I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, and I want you to know I will never hurt you like that.” The two of you hadn’t even spoken about a romantic relationship, aside from the flirtations that happened after filming and sometimes on set. Austin leaned back some against the couch in his trailer, bringing you with him cautiously. “There you go,” he whispered, moving one hand to your back and making sure you were pressed up against his chest again. You allowed yourself to focus. You could feel his breathing against you, the rise and fall of his abdomen and the soft puttering of his heartbeat. “There you go,” he said, combing his fingers through your long hair, attempting to soothe you. “There we go,” he said again, dancing his fingers over your back. “Deep breaths, after me.” And with his help, you were able to catch your breath. “You’re safe here with me, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your head, wanting to comfort you and relieved that your body seemed to be relaxing. “I’m sorry that triggered these feelings and memories for you. And when you’re ready, you tell me all about that, as much as you’d like to, okay? I’ll be here. I’ll listen and I’ll hold your hand to help it keep from shaking.” You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, your ear still filled with the sound of the man’s heartbeat. “You mean that really?” You asked, almost shocked that someone would take that kind of time to comfort and learn you. “Yeah. I really do.” You took another gentle breath and allowed your eyes to close, snuggling in comfortably against Austin. You’d never felt such comfort in your life, and looked forward to being in his.

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FOUR: TWO NOTES AND A HEART DOWN

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✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane and you finally read the note. (wc: 9.4k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of sa (nothing happens) like its not brought up AT ALL it's insinuated like the tiniest bit, mean!eddie, kinda asshole-ish? pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

✦ authors note — sorry for the wait but i hope a 9.4k chapter makes up for it omg! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! ive been struggling with this chapter A LOT. its not at all how i wanted to write it but i was just tired of holding it off :// so hope u guys enjoy and this is like the last fluffy chapter lmao its all angst from here on (well kinda)

series masterlist | series playlist

His nose skimmed against yours, a mere breath away from the temptation of your soft lips, everything you’ve been wanting on the tip of your fingers.

But you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter if he was sorry or if it was casual. Chrissy still existed. And he still kissed her in front of you.

Friends, is what he promised. And this was going to ruin it.  

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, you could hear the desperation in his voice. Your eyes blinked open slowly, how close he was to you had your eyes widened. 

"I-I don't even know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "I feel like...I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind, and I don’t even know what just happened,” he said in a strained voice. 

“I-I just… I look at you, and I’m absolutely terrified.” He gulped. “It terrifies me that—” He stopped himself before he could spew out more. 

It terrifies me how much I would do for you, he wishes to say, but he doesn’t, he can’t. 

“I can’t—we shouldn’t be doing this." He stammered, quick to lean away from you.

“I-I know” You agreed hesitantly, because you knew this was a bad idea. But your stomach burned at the thought that he wanted to not kiss you because of Chrissy. Was he actually going to be with her now? Did he lie about things being casual? 

“Do you…” You took a deep breath, “do you like her?” Your voice was strained, it was barely above a whisper, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. 

Your heart rate picked up quicker than you intended it to, you leaned further away from him, your mouth flooded with a bitter taste. 

“No!” His eyes widened, he answered it so quickly that the idea that he was lying sank further into you. 

“No, I-I don’t know… I just-” He breathed. “We agreed to being friends… We should keep it that way, and I can’t keep doing this,” he stammered. “I need to stop hanging on to the past.” 

“but, fuck. Each time, I try to, you just… prevent it!” He admitted, without realizing the weight his words held, your brows pinched quickly. 

“I prevent it?” You enunciated with an exasperated chuckle. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mumbled under your breath as your body turned away from him, elbows holding onto the edge of the pool as you swiftly lifted yourself up. 

Eddie just looked at you, baffled. “Do you realize how unbelievable you are?” You spat, looking down on him with your hair still wet and your dress uncomfortably stuck to your body. 

“What are you talking about?” He gave you a puzzled look.

“Nevermind,” you huffed, facing away from him.

Eddie groaned, following you as he exited the pool swiftly. “Why do you even care?” He asked, breathless. Taking another step closer toward you. 

“I don’t,” you lied with a gulp. You were a bad liar. And Eddie knew that. 

“You don’t?” He narrowed his gaze, giving you a second chance to open up, but he knew you were too stubborn.

“I don’t.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

“That…” He paused, “was a mistake.” You could feel that horrible ache in your chest return. Sure it was a bad idea, but a mistake?

Did he really hate you that much?

“What does that mean?” You swallowed hard. Your heart was breaking the more he spoke, you wanted nothing more than to shut him up. 

“It means we-I shouldn’t have done that,” he corrected himself with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. But what exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean that the almost-kiss was a mistake because it could ruin your potential friendship? Or did he mean it in a way that suggested he liked Chrissy?

Those words were enough to have your heart drop into your gut; your whirlwind of thoughts were mocking you, the idea that Eddie had a chance of liking her was eating away at you, and all you could do was stand there and watch it all unravel. 

You parted your lips to speak, but all that could come out was a weak mutter of, “okay.” You turned your back on him quickly, picking up your jacket from the ground. You put it on in a struggle, fighting back the tears that were pricking your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a puzzled look, and you refused to look back at him before your feet picked up. He didn’t seem to realize why his answer truly crushed you.

“I-I’m going home.” Your voice was barely audible; there was a lump sitting in your throat, causing your breathing to stammer.

“With what exactly?” He huffed, following behind you. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “I’ll figure it out… I always do, don’t I?” You shrugged. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t let you walk alone like this. You could catch a cold, or something could happen to you, Pinky." His voice was laced with concern, brows furrowed as he hurried to your side.

“I don’t care,” you muttered with an emotionless expression.

“I do!” 

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!” He spat. “Please, don’t do something stupid and reckless. I can take you home,” he mumbled with a huff. There was no fucking way he’d let you walk home alone. 

“And I have a towel in my car,” he added, you slightly huffed. It was chilly, your dress was soaking, and he was right. There was no way you could get home without him. At least until you were willing to freeze off or get hauled by whatever was roaming in the forest. 

You followed him to the car with a simple nod, Eddie still failed to notice why you had gotten so upset, not realizing the implications his words held. 

-

By the time you got into the car, you were shivering, faintly muttering a ‘Thanks’ to Eddie as he wrapped the towel around you, brows creasing with worry, but he didn’t know what to say to you. 

Usually, he wouldn’t have let it go; he would’ve tried to get it out of you and ask you if you were okay, but when you were this upset, it was no use. 

The ride was silent except for the faint sound of Eddie’s mixtape filling the space between the two of you. He had asked if you had anything specific you wanted to listen to, but you shut him off with a faint shake of your head. 

Your heart was aching. Like he had just ripped open your chest and taken it without a care, not noticing how tight he had been squeezing and releasing it. As if he were toying with it. 

And you felt nauseous. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t get a chance to eat all day or because of that mocking thought in your head that told you that Eddie wanted Chrissy.  

Once your stomach grumbled, your question was quickly answered, your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms against your chest in an attempt to shut it up. Eddie gave you a slight chuckle. “Munchies?” He chuckled. “Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asked with a reassuring smile. 

“I just wanna go home,” you grumbled as your gaze refused to meet his. “C’mon,” he muttered with a huff. “Do you even have anything to eat at home?” He asked all-knowingly. You shook your head, you didn’t; your fridge was empty; it was late, so you couldn’t get any groceries; not to mention, your messy kitchen was in no condition to cook. 

“Are burgers still your favorite food?” Your face unintentionally lit up at that; he was definitely thinking about Benny’s, and your mouth-watered just at the idea of their cheeseburgers. 

“Benny’s?” You asked with an involuntary smile on your cheeks, and Eddie swallowed a deep breath. That curve of your goddamn plump lips was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, do you want to go?” He muttered slowly. “O-okay,” you mumbled. 

First the Wheeler House, then Billy’s stupid camaro, then the pool, this goddamn van, that mixtape, and now Benny's... this whole day had been a nostalgic mind fuck for you. You couldn’t complain, though; no matter how upset his words made you, you were still so pathetically happy to spend some time with him, ecstatic that he didn’t let you go. 

And so was Eddie. That’s why he had been holding his tongue back; he wanted to know why you cared so much about Chrissy. Sure, what she did with Billy was horrible. But it didn’t make sense. There had to be something he didn’t know.  

By the time you guys arrived at Benny's, it was past midnight, so, the place wasn’t packed, of course, but surprisingly, there were still a lot of tables besides the two of you. Eddie let out an ‘Aha!’ sound once his eyes caught the booth that was nestled in the corner. 

The same one the two of you always shared. The white light loomed over its padded, dark maroon seat, and you slid onto it with a huff. Your senses were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of toasted buns. The air was infused with a disgusting smell of frying oil, but all of it smelled irresistible to your growling stomach. 

Once the two of you got situated, Benny was quick to rush to your side. “Welcome to Benny’s, what can I get you—” 

"Oh my god!" Benny's eyes widened, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Didn't expect to see you! Jesus, how long has it been?" He chuckled, his memory working overtime.

A smile adorned your face, Benny had always been nice to you and to Eddie, giving you one too many free meals, always telling you that it was not an issue despite your protests, knowing of your absentee parents, just like the rest of the town did. 

“Very long,” you added with a chuckle, “missed your cheeseburgers.” You pouted. 

"Yeah?" Benny's excitement was palpable. "Mmhmm, nowhere in New York does it as good as Benny's," you hummed sweetly.

"Now, you're just butterin' me up!" Benny dismissed with a chuckle, eliciting a warm smile from you.

"But, New York, huh?" Benny inquired, raising an intrigued brow. "I've seen this one around, a lot, even last week." His finger pointed toward Eddie, prompting your brows to furrow.

Last week? 

“So that's why you weren’t with him.” He added, realization dawning on his face. Eddie was quick to shoot a painful gaze toward you, one that almost said, ‘no, she wasn’t with me because she left me’, You didn’t know how it was possible to share a language just through your shared gaze, but it had you physically gulping. 

“Uh-uh, yeah,” you mumbled, your gaze avoiding Eddie’s. 

“I gotta say though…” He leaned down, almost like he was telling the two of you a secret, “It’s really nice seeing the two of you together, again.” Benny said with a sly smirk.

“‘Bout damn time y’all got together,” He teased further. 

Your eyes widened in unison, both sets of cheeks warming before you spoke up. 

“Oh, no—” You were quick to dismiss with your hands.

“We’re not—” Eddie joined in your protests.

“So, what can I get for you, lovebirds?” He hummed casually, ignoring both of your protests. Your eyes locked before both of you shyly avoided each other’s gaze. “The usual?” 

“Uh-uh, yeah," Eddie grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wooden table. 

When Benny turned toward you, “same for her, but with extra pickles.” Eddie said almost automatically, your brows pinched together and Eddie mentally cursed himself, “I-I mean… if that’s still your order…” His words smushed together, cheeks quick to heat crimson red. 

“It-it is," you mumbled. 

“Alright, comin’ right up,” he threw a wink at the two of you, clueless of the awkwardness apparent in the air. 

It was stupid, all this back and forth all day. You weren’t kids anymore; you should have been able to just be friends and hang out, not fight. Yet, somehow, it had spiraled into a seemingly impossible situation.

Talking it out wasn’t going to do anything. If the two of you wanted any chance to salvage whatever your relationship was, you needed to talk about the bigger picture; everything needed to be spilled out. But neither of you wanted to do that. 

Unspoken feelings were lingering, and none of you knew when they would boil over. Both of you desperately wanted to cling to the promise of being friends and make the most of it. 

There were a lot of things you could say to him; you could choose to talk about Chrissy, you could choose to talk about L.A.; hell, you could choose to talk about his nerdy game, but your curiosity got the best of you, and before you could help it, the words spilled out of your mouth. “What were you doing here last week?” 

Eddie was almost taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be curious about him again after icing him out for so long. “I like coming here,” he shrugged. “Whenever I’m in Hawkins, I drop by, you know, to write some stuff.”

“Here?” Your face scrunched, finding it hard to believe that a greasy diner could ever be inspiring. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “most of our second album was produced in this bad boy.” 

"Are you serious?” Your brows raised, “and the rest of the band is just okay following you here?" You narrowed your gaze playfully, your hands finding a resting place on the worn wooden table.

Eddie’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yeah, actually, they’ve gotten pretty used to it,” he confessed, “you-uh… I don’t know if you ever got to listen to the second one-”

"I did," you interrupted, voice resolute.

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

Eddie hesitated before asking, "What did you think of it?"

“Great record, are you kidding me? It had such a unique sound… You know, like, a timeless quality that makes it stand out?” You said excitedly, and he nodded with a raised brow, “that much?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m not kidding, Eddie. You know how I don’t pull punches with music; if it wasn’t good, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”

"Which one's your favorite?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued.

You pondered for a second before answering, "oh, definitely Aurora!"

Eddie's shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead as he leaned closer, listening intently. "I mean, 'I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me' is genius," you said, your voice filled with admiration. You didn't dare look him in the eyes.

"And really, really sad," you continued, a hint of melancholy in your tone. "The idea that you could give the whole world to someone, to the point where you describe it as dying, and they don’t even see it... it sounds awfully painful." You gulped, your eyes fixed on the worn wooden table. You weren’t stupid; you knew why it was named Aurora; you knew what the lyrics were alluding to.

His car. The same car that the two of you drove around in. The same car drove the two of you out of Hawkins. 

You knew he liked you way before he let you on, and you wish you knew. 

Maybe if you weren’t dating that douchebag, maybe if Eddie said something sooner, maybe if everything that happened when the two of you left didn’t happen… Maybe just maybe, the two of you’d be together now. 

Maybe if the timing was just right, it wouldn’t be like this; he wouldn’t have whatever he had with Chrissy. You wouldn’t have been in New York. 

But what were you supposed to say? What could you say that would change all of this? Even if you told him about what Chrissy did, even if you explained why you had to leave him in L.A., there was no use. The truth couldn't turn back time. You two had ventured down different paths, and it was painfully evident.

He wasn’t the Eddie you knew, and you weren’t the Pinky he knew; it was too fucking late. 

Eddie's mouth hung open in surprise; he hadn't expected you to delve into the song's meaning like this. Aurora was one of the heaviest songs he had ever written, and he held a special attachment to it. The label and the rest of the band had embraced it, which was surprising since they usually rejected his heartbreak songs, wanting more of that unbridled rage. 

He didn’t answer you; there was a weird tension between the two of you again, so you diffused it with, “but kinda lame that you decided to name a song after your car,” while eyeing Eddie to gauge his reaction.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, bite me,” he teased, "but yeah, that one was also written here, in that same spot you were sitting.”

“Shut up!” You said, hand playfully reaching out to nudge him. 

"And to your question... I can't tell you why I was here last week," Eddie confessed, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Your stomach twisted at that, and you didn't know how many more punch-in-the-gut revelations you could handle today. "Why- uhh- why not?" You asked hesitantly, your words stuttering over simple syllables.

"Because then I'd be spoiling the note, dummy," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A deep breath of relief escaped your stomach, and you chuckled. God, he was a douche. "Wait... so does that mean... I have a song in my pocket?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm the first one to see it, huh?" You asked excitedly, hand teasingly dipping into your pocket.

"You and the rest of the band," Eddie huffed, offering a sheepish grin.

You gave him a quick glare. “You know I could leak this to the press and make millions, right? No more dealing with rude customers, and no more nine to five hours stuck in a record shop?”

He narrowed his gaze. "You can't get shit for that," he mockingly retorted.

"What?" You frowned.

"Yeah, it's basically like the first chorus and some gibberish notes, it's worthless," Eddie explained.

You pouted. "Aww, damn it."

"I'm kidding, I'm excited to read it,” you reassured with a wink, “you know… Maybe I could give you some notes on it? Review it?" You suggested.

“Didn’t know you were a musician.”

“Rude!” You huffed, “I may not be a musician, rockstar. But I sell records for a living. I can promise you, I listened to many more records than you did this year.” You said with a playful smirk.

"How's that like?" Eddie asked curiously, his deep brown eyes resembling longing and curiosity.

You leaned back against the cushioned booth, letting out a wistful sigh. "Working at a record store? A rollercoaster,” you chuckled, “lame in some ways, but also incredibly fascinating. New York's a whole different world compared to Hawkins."

Eddie couldn't help but study your face as you spoke. He noticed the faint traces of insecurity in the way you held yourself—an air of loneliness that came with moving away from everyone you knew and your family leaving you.

"But also, it took me a while to get used to it," you continued. "Nancy and Jonathan used to visit me a lot; they've really helped me adjust.”

“And you know, of course, Robin and Steve, too,” you murmured.

Eddie’s brows shot up at that. So everyone but him. 

It was a sting he couldn't quite shake, burning at his skin, that you decided to abandon him but were fine with everyone else, including Steve. 

Your absence in his life had left a void he couldn't fill, ever.

Yet, here you were, replacing him like it was nothing. 

Eddie knew he had no right to be jealous; you two were just friends, right? But it ate away at him; that feeling seeped through him, even though you were never his to begin with.

His face burned, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He could almost feel the taste of bitter jealousy in his mouth, considering how it was overtaking his senses. “Steve?” He questioned; gaze seeping through you, an unbrittled rage ready to tip at any moment. 

You didn’t seem to notice it, though. For someone who was usually very perceptive, it flew right by you—that slight tick in his jaw, the way his fists curled, the storm raging beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you murmured, his head turned away from you, gaze fixed on anything but your face. The other corners of the burger place was suddenly very interesting to him as he grappled with his own emotions.

“It’s pretty crowded in here, right?” you remarked, trying to draw Eddie into the conversation and gauge his mood.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied, his gaze remained distant, thoughts elsewhere.

Concern etched across your face as you pressed further, “Uh, are you okay?” Something seemed to be bothering Eddie, and you couldn't pin-point what it was.

“‘M fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hands. 

He had to distract you and do something else because he was being super fucking weird, and you weren’t dumb; you could read him like a book. 

He didn’t want that awkwardness or tension to reappear; he wanted to talk to you freely, he couldn’t let his insecurities ruin this for him. 

Eddie’s attention turned back to you,  “is that what you want to do with your life?” his brows raised, “The record store, I mean.” He didn’t want to sound rude, he just wanted to know more.

“I don’t know… I never had much time to think about it.” You gave him a small smile, shaking your head gently, “also, I can’t really afford to think about it anyway.”

“But what do you want to do?” He probed.

“Anything concerning art… I mean I’d love to be a tattoo artist, too. That’s the likely path I’m going down, dunno if the salary is good enough, though.” You shrugged, “but you know what I’d love to be?” Eddie leaned closer, his eagerness clear. 

“What?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Someone came in like a month ago, this bearded guy with lots of tattoos… We had a new album coming to our store that day, and he wanted to see them,” you mumbled with a warm smile, eyes glistening with a dreamy glow. “Then he told me about how he was a tattoo artist, but helped make some of the cover art for that album, and then something just like clicked in me.”

“I used to draw with the hope that maybe it could connect with someone, you know, like it did with me… I spent half of my childhood drawing and listening to music as an outlet. Whenever my parents left, whenever they were absent in my life despite ‘being there’, or whenever they had a screaming match, plates thrown at each other, the first thing I did was sketch, anything, on the notebook.” You mumbled, “or I listened to a record, and I let it consume me, in the hopes that it would drive me away from reality, diffuse the pain, even for a split second, and it worked,” you said with a simple smile. 

Eddie hung on to your every word, his gaze never wavering, admiring that creative spirit shining in you. “Art and music shift the world in the best way possible, and maybe it is dramatic but it also saves lives in a way, you know, by helping you get through something, or making you forget. And that’s my biggest wish… to have my art be important to someone, to make them feel like they’re not alone, in any way possible. So when I saw how that guy combined music and art like that, I thought, this is fucking perfect, this is what I need to do.” 

Eddie’s brows pinched together, “why haven’t you done it?” he asked, his voice a soothing lilt that could melt any doubts away. He could listen to you talk about your passions for hours, the way your eyes glistened with hope, that little quirk of your brow did when you found something interesting, it was heavenly to him. 

“C’mon Eds, be realistic,” you murmured sadly. “Half the people that work for a good record company or with a good band have fancy art degrees, they have connections, they have the money, the time to do it. No one’s going to want a nobody who doesn’t even have a college degree from a small town.” Your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Bullshit,” he spat quickly, dismissing the way you so quickly diminished yourself, “I was the trailer trash of Hawkins, and look what happened,” he encouraged in a harsh but also a warm manner, leaning closer. 

“Yeah, but you’re also a guy, Eddie.” Your voice wavered as you pointed out, “t-they have different expectations for women who don’t have those connections, or don’t come from like insanely rich parents… If you know what I mean,” you said with disgusted frowning upon your face, chill running down your spine. 

Eddie immediately picked it up, his face growing to one of concern, “W-wait-” his voice quivered, the color drained from his face quickly, you immediately knew what he was implying and shook your head, “no, no, not me! But I heard lots of stories in New York, it’s just disgusting,” your face scrunched. 

“That’s awful,” Eddie’s jaw clenched in anger, he knew there were a lot of scumbags in the industry, and it pissed him off that he could do nothing about it. He already felt guilty enough that he didn’t realize what a narcissistic asshole Billy really was, he wanted to help any way he could. 

And then, like a sudden light bulb went off in his head, an idea illuminated his mind. “Have I ever told you that our record company is in need of a new art director?” He pouted teasingly. 

Your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped your lips. "You're funny," you said, playfully skeptical.

Eddie, ever earnest, replied, "I'm serious."

“I-I can't do that," you said shyly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

Eddie leaned in, and retorted with a, “and why not?"

“It-it feels wrong, and you don’t even know if I’d be good-“ you hesitated, not fully convinced if this was a good idea.

“Bullshit,” Eddie countered firmly, a small smile gracing his lips. “I know how great your art is, and I know how much you care about music, the way you describe it is exactly the reason why I love it so much.” Eddie always took you seriously and encouraged you about your dreams, no matter how unrealistic it was. 

“You know what you said earlier about how you wanted your art to matter to someone?” You nodded, eyes glistening with hope. 

“Your art is important to me, Pinky. The ones you sketched in your notebooks, is what helped me write some of my lyrics. The drawings you made when you were bored in class, the ones I have hung up on my wall still at the trailer… they mean so much to me,” he said in a hushed voice, he dragged his arm on the table, quick to point to the tattoo on his forearm. “This tattoo, is what helped with Corroded Coffin’s symbol bats, you do realize that, right?”

Skeptical, you scoffed, "you guys always had bats as your thing."

 “True,” he agreed, “but your design helped bring it to life.” He shrugged, “and you know the band better than anyone, maybe you could help us with our next album cover, too. I don’t think I could find someone more perfect for the job.” Eddie shrugged and smiled warmly.

“But-”

Your protests were gently silenced by Eddie, who insisted with a soft determination, “No but’s, just say yes, please.” His voice was sweet, sickingly sweet, you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

“I mean I’ll just have a talk with them, show them some of your stuff, so, no promises. But I can be very, very persuasive,” he teased, a wink thrown your way.

You stammered, the excitement bubbling within you. "Y-you'd do that for me?” He nodded surely, “even after everything that happened?" Your tone was muffled, laced with insecurity.

"Anything for you," Eddie reassured as he leaned closer, that familiar, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With your heart aflutter, you finally agreed, excitement breaking through the barriers of your insecurities. "If—if you really are okay with it, I-I'd love to."

“Of course,” he affirmed. 

“Alright!” Benny chimed in, interrupting the two of you. “Two cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes.” He hummed, settling the food in front of both sets of hungry eyes.

“Enjoy, lovebirds!” He said with a smirk, sauntering away to the kitchen. 

“Thank you!” Both of you exclaimed with happiness as you dug into the food.

As you munched on the crispy fries, you admired the other tables, each one occupied by a slice of life that you couldn't help but find intriguing.

One table was for a family of four. All you could hear was the distressed children, their whining echoed through the restaurant. The parents looked drained, faces etched with exhaustion as they juggled plates of half-eaten food, desperately trying to calm down and distract their kids.

Another table was occupied by a couple who was in a heated argument. The man wore a scowl, voice raised in anger, while the woman looked like she was about to cry, her eyes pleading for understanding.

But the last table was the one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, it brought a smile to your face. “Oh my god, look,” you said in a hushed voice, gaze pointing toward the booth that was nested in the far right corner.

Eddie was already face-first into his food, “later, ’m eating.” He grumbled. You poked your tongue out at him playfully. “Jesus… Forgot how grumpy you get when you are hungry,” you hummed, flinging a fry in his direction, causing him to pause mid-bite and chuckle.

“Oh, you don't wanna play that game with me, sweetheart,” he teased, dangling a fry in front of your face.

You grinned, your eyes dancing with excitement. “Just one look, and I’ll be out of your curly unbrushed hair, Munson,” you joked with a giggle.

His eyes rolled quickly, “you won’t stop until you get what you want, will you?” He asked with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You shook your head with a giggle. “Fine,” he huffed jokingly, dipping the fry in his hand into the vanilla milkshake, making an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he devoured it.

“Gross.” You commented with mock disgust, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Just tell me which table.” Eddie leaned in, his curiosity piqued as your gaze moved toward the couple at the adjacent booth. The girl was wearing a plaid mini skirt, expertly paired with a statement crop-top covered by an oversized leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders, likely borrowed from the curly-haired brunette sitting on the opposite side of the booth.

Her head was thrown back, and laughter danced in her eyes as she hung on to every word of the story he was telling. The curly haired brunette guy had a graphic band-tee and a guitar pick adorning his neck. Mascara smudged and eyes all red; you knew they probably had a long night. 

It reminded him of something, or rather, someone. 

He looked at you with his brows scrunched up, and you replied to him with a giggle. Both of you were thinking the same thing. 

“That’s fuckin’ weird.” Eddie mumbled with a mouthful of his juicy cheeseburger. “Are those our… doppelgangers?” 

“Right?” You almost mirrored him, taking a bite from your cheeseburger as you leaned further on your elbows. “What do you think their story is?”

“Uhhh-” Eddie grumbled, “us from five years ago?” His mouth partially obscured by the burger as he chewed thoughtfully, a furrow in his brow. 

“Such a detailed story!” You mocked. He couldn't help but notice how the dim diner lighting accentuated your features—plump lips looking so soft from the way you frustratingly groaned—which brought an unintentional smile to his face.

You were so breathtakingly pretty; even when you were munching on a burger, he was absolutely whipped.

Eddie shrugged, that shit-eating grin still on his face. He looked you dead in the eye before he took another big bite, stuffing more fries into his mouth. 

“Fine, I’ll give them a story,” you narrowed your gaze, “and you can keep eating your gross milkshake dipped fries,” you mocked, straightening up your back as you leaned closer, licking your lips before you spoke.

“So the girl… she’s pretty, like really, really pretty.” You said with a sly grin, your gaze now focused on the couple in question; if he wasn’t going to participate, then you could just drag this further. 

“And there’s the guy." You gestured toward the other booth, gaze narrowing as you turned back to Eddie. “He’s just... there, I guess, kind of looks like a douche,” you mocked, mouth scrunching as you looked at Eddie all-knowingly, head tilted to the side.

Eddie scoffed, responding with a lighthearted yet passionate defense of himself. “He looks like a total stud,” he grumbled in between bites with a smirk, “and that band-tee? He’s so fuckin’ cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged, “I think he’s a total nerd, bet he’s telling his dorky D&D stories to his best friend.” 

He stuck his tongue out, a carefree grin on his face, “Hey! You said you loved my campaigns!” He exclaimed and playfully tossed a soggy fry at you. 

You gasped dramatically, reaching for another fry to retaliate before Eddie’s unreadable expression had you frozen. “Shit, I totally forgot, what time is it?”

“Oh, you’re not getting away with that, Munson, we’re in a full fledged food war now,” you teased, holding a fry aloft, your gaze narrowing in mock seriousness.

“No, no, I’m serious.” Eddie insisted, causing you to huff in response. You turned your back to try to read the old-fashioned clock that stood on the wall. 

“Uh… 1.15, why?” you replied, your brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand him.

“Shit! Shit, shit!” He cursed, getting up quickly while he started gathering his things.

“What?” You asked with a puzzled look.

“Wayne!” He exclaimed making you furrow your brows.

“What about Wayne?” 

“I promised to pick him up after his shift,” he explained with a sigh. “You know, since I kinda have the car.”

"Well, when did it end?” you inquired, still calm as you took another bite from your burger.

He eyed you with urgency. “15 minutes ago,” grumbling, he shoved whatever was left of his food into his mouth. 

“So, I’m going to see Wayne?” You asked with a smile. 

“If we don’t hurry up, you’re going to see me dead,” he exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes. 

“You need to inhale all of that, now!” He screeched, and you looked up at him with a pout. 

“Now!” He snapped, hands clapping in front of your face. 

“Okay, okay, jesus!” You groaned, taking a deep breath, before you shoved a generous handful of fries in your mouth. 

-

When Eddie led you to the car, all you could think about was how Wayne would react—would he be mad at you? Would he be disappointed? 

Goosebumps appeared when a chill ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you could handle it. Wayne had been a staple in your life up until you left, he fed you, he listened to you when you needed it, he gave you a place to sleep, and he always reassured you that you were always welcome in their home.

And you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Not that you didn’t want to; it’s because you couldn’t. When you and Eddie left, it was in a hurry. You had no time to tell anyone, not even Eddie told Wayne until you two were half-way there to California. 

But it still didn’t stop your guilt, it still didn’t help the way your stomach twisted at the mention of his name. 

Your feet picked up quickly as the thoughts filled your head, only stopping when Eddie called out to you. “I have to tell you somethin’” Eddie mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 

A huff of air was quick to escape your lips, you knew it was too perfect to end like this, you knew he was going to ruin it. 

“She-uh… she’s coming to brunch tomorrow.”

You froze in place, almost everything fit like a puzzle in your mind now, and you didn’t know which emotion to feel first. 

Anger, jealousy, or sadness. 

And all three of them hit you at the same time. Because it made sense now, it was clear. He liked Chrissy. He wanted Chrissy. 

He wanted to move on with her. 

He had your heart in his hands, but this time he wasn’t toying with it; he was stomping on it, over and over again, not stopping until he was sure it was beyond salvageable. 

Hand almost frozen in the place you opened the car door without a word, settling into the passenger seat like nothing had happened. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath before he opened his side of the door, getting inside swiftly just to turn to you, “are you not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice carrying a desperate tone.

Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, your cheek pressed against the cool glass. “We’re going to be late,” you replied with a cold, unfeeling tone. Silence filled the car, mirroring the gaping void that now existed between you two.

Thankfully, Aurora didn’t give him any trouble when he started the ignition with a key turn, and the engine roared to life. You didn’t want to speak; you didn’t want to say anything to him. You wanted to save all of your emotions, contain them in the depths of your mind, and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want him to know how much this crushed you. 

But you couldn’t just do that; too disappointed to let it slide, the words escaped your mouth like a dam breaking, “I can’t fucking believe you.” 

“Just, listen, I-I didn’t even invite her-” Eddie tried to explain, but you weren't listening, you didn’t care, you were letting it all out. 

“How would you fucking feel if I kissed… Jason in front of you?” Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but you continued, “how would you feel if I invited him to brunch tomorrow?

Once you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts, he scoffed. “That’s not the same thing, Pinky. Carver made my life a living hell, he was a miserable bully.”

You should tell him, you should tell him what exactly Chrissy did to you.

You should tell him the whole story of that night at Steve’s party. 

The part he didn’t know. 

But you don’t. 

Because you’re too busy to worry about whether he actually wants to be with her or not, your mind felt full, anxieties and worries dancing around in it. 

“And Chrissy kissed Billy!” Your mouth dried up when that name left your mouth, you could feel that dreadful feeling consuming your chest. 

That night was still a blur to you—the way you caught them, the things Chrissy said to you, the way Billy swore that she initiated the kiss. 

Eddie shook his head. “She said it was a misunderstanding.”

You rubbed your fingertips on your forehead in disbelief. “And you believe her over me?” you asked, tone carrying a tinge of hurt and betrayal. The question hung heavy between the two of you.

“No, no!” He yelled out. “Jesus fucking Christ, stop putting words in my mouth, Pinky!” Eddie groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She explained it was a misunderstanding, and she does want to tell you that, too… maybe you could talk to her—”

You let out an exasperated chuckle, not interested in entertaining the idea. “no fucking way.” 

“If you want to be with her, then just fucking say that, Munson, don’t do all this fuckin’ bullshit,” you added, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“I don’t want- oh, you’re unbelievable!” He snapped, head bumping against the headrest of his van. 

“You make it fucking impossible to start over!”

“Wh-what does that even mean?” You retorted back.

“J-just when I’m about to start over, just when I-I’m going to…” He rolled his tongue inside of his cheek in rage as he paused to better explain himself. 

“I find a picture of you in my wallet that you put… or, or Nancy and Jonathan tell me that you invited them over…” You were on the brink of retorting when he continued, “or, or, you- you just barge back into town like you never left; talk to me like nothing fuckin’ happened.”

You didn’t dare to open your mouth; everything he said made you feel guilty. But everything he felt, you felt, too. Each time you felt like moving on, each time you wanted to try to be with someone, you physically couldn’t. 

Maybe it was selfish that you liked hearing him feel the same way too. That’s why the way he was being so vague about whatever he had with Chrissy was like a stab to your heart, in the most non-dramatic way possible. 

“You know… I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to me… I used to think that you w-would always be in my life. That you’d be the one fuckin’ person who’d never leave me.” Eddie's voice trembled, and your throat was quick to tighten, lump forming as his words began to sink in. It felt like the car grew darker the more he spoke, your world crumbling down with it. 

“I was wrong about all of that... all you fuckin’ did was ruin it… You ruined my life.”

The faint strains of heavy metal playing on the car's stereo seemed distant, before you spoke up, wobbly lips slurring your words. “I… I r-ruined your life?” You slumped back on your seat with his words slicing through you like a knife, gnawing at your insecurities.

“Y-you really think that?” Words barely escaped your lips, voice quivering. 

He opened his plushy lips to speak, but he couldn’t answer; words died down in his throat, his gaze fixated on the road, lips pressed into a tight line. 

That in itself was an answer, you knew it, and he knew it. You felt exposed to him, like he knew your insecurities but still did nothing to hide them. 

You couldn't help but feel a hot prickle behind your eyes, the unshed tears were getting harder to hold back. You bit back on your wobbly lip, in an attempt to conceal the pent-up emotions that were begging to be let out. “This… this whole thing was a mistake,” you murmured, voice hushed and heavy with regret. The words felt like stones in your mouth, bitter and unpalatable. 

“We-we were caught up in ourselves, ther-there’s no fuckin’ way we could ever be friends,” you continued, driving home the painful truth, just so you could hurt him like he hurt you, just so you didn’t want him to know how pathetically you still wanted to be with him in any way possible. 

“I agree,” he grumbled, eyes still on the road. Tears streamed down your cheeks, tracing glistening paths along your cheeks, you didn’t even attempt to wipe them. Sniffles punctuated the air, body shuddering with an attempt to suppress your sobs, but then again, they were drowned out by the heavy metal music that echoed in the car. 

Eddie’s gaze fell on you every few seconds; but you didn’t seem to notice. And the guilt ate away at him, too, his brows furrowed in agony. He knew that wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean it in that way, you didn’t ruin his life; you never could—well, not until you left him. 

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel; this wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen. He didn’t even invite Chrissy; she asked to come, and of course Eddie said yes, what else could he do? So he just wanted to give you a heads up. Just so things wouldn’t get bad between the two of you again, but he managed to screw it up.

Grumbles and some curses were all the two of you could hear when Eddie pulled up to Wayne’s workplace. With a huff of breath, your car door hung open. “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, rockstar; you better have some good fuckin’ excuse-” Wayne’s eyes widened the second his gaze met your sad figure.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Wayne exclaimed as if seeing a ghost. “Am I seein' that right? Is that who I think it is?” Despite the heartache gnawing at your insides, you managed a smile.

"Hi, Wayne," you mumbled shyly. Wayne, however, wasn't having it. "Oh, you're not gettin' off with a simple 'hey,' come over here, kid!" He said excitedly, pulling you into a bear-hug. The embrace was tight enough to make you giggle and sniffle, an unfamiliar smile on your lips.

“Where the hell have ya been?” Wayne inquired once he let you go. 

You tried to get up, offering him the front seat, he shook his head, hands holding you down by your shoulders, not wanting to interrupt the two of you.

You told him about everything—New York, your job, how you got here. Everything. 

And all Eddie did was drive; he didn’t look at you or even Wayne for all that mattered—not a single glance. And of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne. 

“Alright, kids, you two are bein' weird…” Wayne grumbled, glancing at Eddie. “Tell me what the hell happened. Some kind of lover's quarrel?” Eddie scoffed, and you couldn't help but snap your head in his direction.

"Somethin' funny, boy?" Wayne added, narrowing his gaze at his niece. Eddie sighed but still avoided both of your gazes.

“No, no, uhh- nothing happened.” He murmured.

Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help the anger inside of you. “That’s funny, that is not how I remember it.” 

Wayne’s brows furrowed before he leaned closer to the front seat. “What happened, P? You know you can always tell me anythin’” he murmured with a reassuring tone. 

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you ignored him, “he is with Chrissy,” you said, scrunching your face as you turned to gauge Wayne's reaction.

Wayne's brows tilted together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember that name. “You remember her? Strawberry blonde hair and-”

“The blondie that made you cry?” you nodded, “with that Hargrove kid?” 

“See, even Wayne remembers,” you grumbled, slightly elbowing Eddie to get a reaction out of him, only earning an offended huff.  

“I never liked him, you know,” Wayne continued, large hands gesturing vaguely to emphasize his point, “always thought you were way too good for him. A guy like him has no business with my Pinky.” You leaned further into the headrest, fingers fiddling with your jacket as you gave Wayne a weak smile. 

“Should’ve listened to you,” you hummed. 

“So Eddie is with her?” Wayne mumbled, face souring. 

“Boy, have you lost your damn mind?” Wayne was quick to chide Eddie, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an attempt to not snap at either of you. 

But it wasn’t working. 

"I told you I'm not with her!" he hissed, voice dripping with irritation. He shot a glare at Wayne through the rearview mirror, but his words were directed at you. 

“How would you explain kissing her and inviting her to our friend's brunch!” You snapped in Eddie’s direction. 

“Eddie, tell me you did not do that!”

“It-it’s not like that, Wayne.”

“Oh, really? What is it like?” You gruffly asked, curiosity and hurt evident in your tone.

“Eddie…” Wayne warned him shushingly with a disappointed look, he could see how much you were hurting, and he knew Eddie was a bit oblivious.

“What?” he groaned.

“Don’t worry, Wayne, he just enjoys playing with my feelings,” you replied with a scoff, fingers tracing the pattern on the car’s leather seats, a relief to your pent-up emotions.

“Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” Eddie muttered under his breath with an out of place chuckle, his anger overflowing after holding it back for so long. “Newsflash, princess. You weren’t the one to wake up all alone in L.A. with one fucking note, I was!” He yelled, words punctuated by the heavy breath he took between each sentence. 

“You should be grateful you have two notes in that pocket of yours because I barely got one!” 

“Will you stop bringing that up?” You plead, lip wobbling as you bit on it harshly to stop your emotions from spilling. 

“‘I can’t do this, sorry.’” He recited your words, and you refused to look at him. “Five letters, Pinky. Not even six. Five. You left me with that—no goodbyes, no nothin’, just a sticky fuckin’ note attached to the fridge.” His head snapped toward you.

A loud chuckle left your mouth, you turned to him with rage, and Wayne knew he had to step in or it was going to get ugly, even uglier than, whatever this was. “This isn’t even about that-”

“Alright, alright!” He interrupted, hands waving in the space between the two of you. 

“Simmer down, both of you! I know the two of you have a lot of unresolved shit… but don’t burn this bridge,” he warned, “not again.” Wayne’s words were quick to disperse the emotional fog that had surrounded the car. 

“The thing, whatever the hell it is, that y’all have… people spend their whole fuckin’ life lookin’ for it… Don’t be dumb.” That was enough to have the two of you shut up. 

“Talk it out.” He said, firm but fair. “I know you’ve both been hurt, so, be honest with each other, and apologize,” he continued, urging both of you to confront each other.

“Okay?” He asked, head hanging in the space between the two of you. 

“Okay,” both of you mumbled in unison, backs turned toward each other.

‘Too late’ was all you could think; that bridge was already burned. There was no way the two of you could ever go back now, right?

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Eddie finally pulled up to your house, you didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to Eddie before turning to Wayne and giving him a hug. 

“See you around?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“You better!” Wayne warned playfully, evoking a giggle from you. “You gotta drop by sometime, promise?” He asked with a sly grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

You didn’t want to see Eddie anymore than you had to now, but if Wayne asked you to do something, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

You looked back at Eddie, your gazes connecting for a second before both of you turned away. “Uh-huh, promise,” you mumbled before exiting quickly. 

“What the hell are you doin’, kid?” Wayne exclaimed the moment you left, causing Eddie to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Walk her to her door, for Christ’s sake!”

“I-I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Eddie explained hesitantly.

“Where are your manners?” Wayne scolded him, raising his voice. Eddie grumbled in frustration but ultimately gave in, cussing under his breath as he exited the car to follow you.

He ran after you, breathless once he finally caught up to you. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you-” He mumbled

You shook your head interrupting him, “no, it’s fine.” 

“So, uhhh…” He started, gaining your attention back to him. “Goodnight.” Eddie grumbled with a scratch of his head, barely able to look at you. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but the damage was already done. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it didn’t matter now. 

He wondered what you would think of the notes; would you even read them? Would you get mad at him for the things he wrote? 

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You muttered back, turning to the door as you avoided looking at him, your finger shakily retrieved your key as you fumbled with it, doing everything in your willpower to not turn back at him. 

Eddie walked away with the same thoughts eating away at him. Were you going to look back at him? The temptation got the best of him, and he turned with a shy nod. You were struggling with your keys, muttering in frustration, and the sight unintentionally brought a smile to his lips before he hurried back to his car.

The moment you heard his car door open, you turned, slowly and reluctantly, only for your gaze to meet Wayne’s, who had an all-knowing smirk playing at his lips, waving at you. 

You gave him a shy smile before you hurriedly turned your back, finally opening the door and rushing inside. 

“You idiot lovebirds are goin’ to be the death of me,” Wayne grumbled to himself with a shake of his head, watching the way you scurried inside.

Once you locked the door, you rested against it, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Your thoughts were swirling,but there was only one thing that was overpowering everything else; the note. 

You furiously searched for it in your pocket, curiosity filling the course of your veins as you fished it out of the left one, your hand shaking as you held it in front of your eyes. 

The words scribbled in the closed note had your heart racing, afraid of what it was going to say, once you fully opened it, your eyes roamed through it quickly.

The note was dated a week ago. 

Don't fool yourself,

She was heartache from the moment that you met her.

My heart feels so still

As I try to find the will to forget her, somehow.

Oh I think I've forgotten her now.

(Is it obvious this last line is sarcasm?) 

Your fingers traced the line that had the parenthesis and were crossed out. Eddie’s notes. If you the tears that escaped your burning eyes weren’t distorting your vision, maybe you would’ve appreciated some of the lyrics, and his funny notes, even though they were messy and all over the place.

I don’t blame you, but sometimes I wish we hadn’t met. (This is kinda too out there, but there could be something from this???)

Your heart pounded against your ribcage—that familiar ache that never fully left returned with a sharper pain. It hurt that he thought of you in this way. He thought you ruined his life, and now he wished he had never met you. 

Those thoughts sank into your brain, and the anger that came with them was something you couldn’t comprehend. There was a lot more of the scribbled nonsense that you couldn’t read, other lyrics that were scratched out. 

Your hands were shaking once you flipped it over. The other note was dated today. 

I lied, didn’t I? I think I would prefer all the heartache in the world to not knowing you. I didn’t even realize that until today. Until I saw you across the room. And I can’t even explain how good it felt to look up and see you standing there. Even with that frown adorning your face.

Your tears hadn’t stopped, falling onto the piece of crumpled up paper and making a mess. 

You felt like an idiot; you should’ve told him when you had the chance, and you had a lot of them. You were angry that you let everyone walk over you. You were angry that Billy had gotten away with everything. And now, Chrissy had a chance with him without ever paying for the consequences of what she did. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

You didn’t want to be polite with your sadness anymore You didn’t want to absorb everyone’s pain to make sure they were okay. And you hated that that’s what you did essentially did when you didn’t tell Eddie about Chrissy. 

You paced around the room, biting down on your nails. 

Should you tell him? Or was that too selfish?

Because if you wanted to tell him, you had just the perfect opportunity to tell him and confront Chrissy; the brunch. 

✦ final authors note —ALSO THE CHRISSY STUFF WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER. IM SORRY FOR TEASING IT SO LONG BUT THE REVEAL IS GONNA BE GOOD I PROMISE LMAO. if you like this series pls support me by rbing liking and commenting ily thank youu🫶🏻 [EDIT: i forgot to say this but ofc the lyrics are not mine they are by jeff buckley’s incredible song “forget her” i listened to it A LOT writing this chapter👀 also if u can guess what the chapters title is inspired by ily]

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.)

[cherryredstars]

could you write something for simon with an asexual partner please :)

luv ya have a nice day<3

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Asexual!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Indirect Mentions of Simon's SA

A/N: I hope your day is amazing, lovely anon! Haven't written for Si in AGES!

Unedited

It's a whole conversation. You have to really take time to sit him down and talk about it and what it means/how it will play a part in the relationship. The discussion is like two hours long. He truly just doesn't understand. Not in a 'wtf are you on, humans are made to want to have sex' way, but in a 'I'm literally an old man and I've been too busy trying to not die in foreign territories' way. (Let's be real, this man does not know any LGBTQ identities besides gay and lesbian and has no idea the f slur refers to anything other than a smoke).

He honestly thought you were telling him you were 'a sexual' when you said it to him. He just blinked at you slowly in confusion because he had genuinely no idea if this was your way of demanding sexual intimacy or like some weird foreplay. Like are you demanding him to treat you like an animal in heat or is this some weird test? And his way of asking for clarification?: "...like Johnny?" (A man who has no-filtered talked about wanting to pound into the first person he got his hands on at the nearby bar over lunch at your dining table).

Please be patient as you're explaining it to him, I beg you. He's repeatedly asking the same questions over and over again and repeating everything you say back because he's actually trying to understand and he doesn't want to mess anything up. Every other sentence he's nodding his head slowly and then just going, "so...basically-?" insert thing you just said but reworded. Please just explain it to him like he's a five year old, he really does feel like one right now.

Totally respects your choice and feelings around sex. He doesn't really go jumping for joy or is in the constant need for a release with everything he experienced in the past, so sex isn't a deal breaker for him in a relationship. You want zero sex because you just don't feel the need for it or simply don't like it? That's a-okay with him, he wasn't having sex before he met you and he doesn't see a reason why that needs to change now that you're together. You're okay with having sex but only under certain conditions and with a few boundaries in place? Can you wait just a moment while he goes to get something to write it all down on so he can make sure he doesn't accidentally overlook something in the future? You wouldn't mind him adding a few boundaries too, right? He doesn't object to anything you say, just asks for clarification from time to time and writes down notes on the side.

He's your number one defender when friends or family or nosy strangers ask about the intimacy aspects of your relationship. Shuts them up real fast when they start to show a hint of judgement towards the choices the two of you made or tries to insinuate you're 'depriving him' of something. Gives them the nastiest glare and bluntly asks them why they care so much about people's sex lives or asks them really uncomfortable questions about their sex life with a straight face until they awkwardly excuse themselves.

This man just loves you for you and reminds you everyday that you're his luvie and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 2}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: You come to realize that as much as you want your freedom, your new captor is someone you are afraid to run from. 

Word Count: 7.1K 

Warnings: mentions of narcotics, reader was drugged previously, withdrawal, insinuation of past SA, insinuation of sexual favors, mentions of past torture (not detailed), mentions of past trauma (not detailed) 

A/N: this chapter is brought early to you by the various albums of tool, copious amounts of coffee, and the buzzing of excitement to get this out to y’all. it’s a very intimate glimpse into reader’s internal monologue and i sincerely hope y’all enjoy this. it was very very fun to write and put down in concrete scenes ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

The sounds of heavy breathing were harsh in the quiet expanse of the desert. The sun beating down suffocating rays that made sweat build up along your hairline and on the skin underneath your lightweight tunic. The fabric was old and frayed, from what you were beginning to think was a few years since you had donned it for travel. It was larger on you than it had once been, the weight you had lost during your captivity obvious. You ran the last few yards between where you had been trying to keep up and the figure that had just been rushing at a fast pace but now lay motionless.

You slid to a stop on your knees beside the fallen form of the Mandalorian on the rocky terrain that made up the desert planet. His body having landed on a heightened outcropping of softer gravel that was the base of a jutting rock formation.

The drugs were still waning from your system but not enough for them to have tricked you into seeing the absolute absurdity that was the unconscious man laid out before you giving chase to the Jawas as they fled the scavenged mess of his ship. After they had sought refuge on their giant crawling fortress and began to flee the scene in haste.

For someone who came across as so put together and focused while on a hunt, he had run off after the small beings with no thought. Granted, you’d be pretty upset too if you had traveled so far for work only to come back to your ship, your home, being scavenged beyond use. But it had been rather comical to witness a lone figure chased after such a large structure that was speeding away into the desert, until he had gotten injured. Until you realized what it meant.

Electric shocks sparked over him in disjointed waves as his armor whined at a low timbre. The wiring charred because of getting electrically shocked by so many guns at once thanks to the Jawas. They were small creatures and the electroshock weapons they carried allowed them to gain an even hand in the cutthroat world of scavenging and trading. He wasn’t making any noise himself, but you could hear the modulator picking up his faint breathing and displaying it for you. You glanced toward the horizon, seeing the crawling fortress that carried your way off this planet with it disappea from view.

Your hands were still contained in the binders fastened around your wrists, the mechanics of them too strong for you to break. But you weren’t too confident you’d be able to get out of them if you were at full strength, even with the Force. You had a feeling they would send shocks themselves, if tampered with beyond general jostling. With bated breath you hovered your open palms over the helmet, trying to get a sense of what to do, your skin felt the coolness of the metal despite it being in the sun as long as you have been.

Gaze wandering over the man’s form, you took in how broad he was, how solid. His armor surely lent him more than protection, the plates strapped carefully to his body allowing him to appear bigger than he was. But as you took in the width of his shoulders, the stockiness of his legs, you were beginning to think he was a wall of a man even beneath the armor. You felt your face flush as your thoughts wondered about him, unsure where the fascination was coming from. He was just another captor of yours, granted he had been contracted. Maybe that was why.

Because he was a professional, seen as someone of high value and skill in his field. Someone you knew your dearest mother would’ve requested to receive your tracking fob to ensure your return to her.

You wondered what the final trigger was, for her to reach out to the Guild. If you took the Mandalorian’s words as fact, which you felt like you could, then you had been ‘missing’ for five years. Out of those five years, your memory of time was warped. Your entire sense of what had happened and when was jumbled up and would take you serious time to try and decipher.

You recalled overhearing talk of an arrangement for you to be relocated, both you and your mother, to someplace that could offer more complete protection. To someone who could provide you with a life that was still caged and corralled but in a way that would seem like you weren’t. You had heard the term ‘betrothed’ that despite an addled state had triggered the sense to run and immediately began planning a way to escape in earnest. You wouldn’t be sold for some man’s amusement and posterity. To be a boasting point of someone’s accomplishments that were only brought on by money and status.

Memories of landing on Tatooine, of finding affordable supplies and as updated a map as possible flooded your mind’s eye. You had purchased everything needed to set up a small moisture farm for yourself, in order to live off of and provide for yourself in such a desolate place. You hadn’t been too keen on settling in the desert, preferring the rich shrubbery and canopy of leaves forests provided. The deep greens of plant life and the scent of rain in the air when storms approached on the horizon, but you had decided it would be too predictable. Too easy to track you down to a planet that appealed to you. With a sigh you reigned in your thoughts.

You looked over to the small green face of your other companion peeking out from his pod, worry in his large eyes and the droop of his adorable ears. You sucked in a breath before chancing digging your fingers into the material of the Mandalorian’s cloak that created a wrapped cowl around his neck to find a pulse. His skin was warm underneath your fingers, the softness of the man beneath the armor a little dizzying. His pulse was weak, but it was there, you removed your hands and marveled at the sensation his skin left on yours as you settled down beside to wait for him to rouse.

Shivers moved your body as chills traced heavily over your skin, withdrawal hitting you full force after not having anything forcefully injected into your veins in over twenty-four hours. The hinge of your jaw was sore from the force you were clenching it shut with, the pain reverberating from the crown of your head too much to handle. You don’t know what type of sedative they had kept you on but now that it was wearing off after however many consecutive days of it, your body was beginning to struggle without it.

You don’t know how long you sat beside him, it must’ve been a few hours at least judging by the movement of the sun from overhead to well into its descent of the day. You kept checking his pulse, which had gradually grown in strength. 

Relief flooded you when you noticed the change from his breathing being labored to even once again. Bound hands hovered over the rip in his sleeve from being cut, and you focused your concentration on the injury he had closed up hastily the night before. After a few moments the jagged, irritated skin smoothed out and it was as if he had never been injured to begin with.

You checked his pulse again, worried your healing would have spiked it and were about to remove your hand from within the fabric around his neck when one of his own shot out and gripped it crushingly tight. The Mandalorian jolted up from his laid out position, a string of grunts sounding through his modulator. His legs opened wide to help stabilize himself and he turned his helmet to face you.

His breathing was a little on the heavy side as he took in your form, your face a twinge red from being in the sun all day. Some of the flush from a fever you were sure that was beginning to take over your immune system. He took in the floating pod behind you, still occupied by his other quarry. Your hand twitched in his hold and he looked down to where he had it in a tight grip, his gloves encompassing the entirety of it. The creak of your bones beneath his grip had him dropping your hand and turning to face the trail left in the wake of the traveling fortress.

“How long was I out?”

You were slightly taken aback by his question, unsure if he was really initiating conversation with you. You rubbed at your aching hand, his phantom grip still on your skin.

An answer quietly followed, not wanting to enrage the man who had willingly run after the remnants of his ship in such a haste. Because despite how absurd it had been, it told you a lot about him. How he was willing to give chase, to hunt in the very depths of his core. He was devoted to it. It was who he was, it made him a challenge you had to acknowledge you couldn’t overcome lest you try to run yourself.

And while that terrified you, it also made you feel a swirl of emotions that you couldn’t name. You had spent nearly your entire life on the run, in hiding, keeping to yourself and keeping a low profile. But now that he had your tracking fob, now that he knew about the price on your head and taken on the responsibility of your capture, you doubted he would ever stop his pursuit. He took things personally, a way to prove himself. And while you prided yourself on your ability to hide, you knew he would find you because he was devoted to the chase. It would fuel him should you give in to your baser instincts and attempt freedom.

Even if you could get to your hideaway home here on planet, it wouldn’t matter a dank ferrick thing. Off world was the only option. But it was too bold of one without any bearings.

“A few hours, jatne vod.”

“You were touching me.” He moved to sit up straighter, stretching the muscles in his back with the motion. He stood from there, leaning down to reach for the tops of his boots with a deep breath. He stood at his full height and began to walk back in the direction of his ship. You fell into step behind him, the Child’s pod floating beside him. “Don’t do it again.”

“Apologies, jatne vod. I caught up just in time to see them all fire on you at once. That and the fall from the ship worried me.”

“Worried. Worried you would end up trapped out here with no way off world.” His tone was flat, stating rather than questioning. You both knew he was correct in his assumption of why you hadn’t run off. Why you had stuck by his side as he had laid unconscious. You didn’t say anything, there wasn’t anything to say. He was reading you as if you were projecting everything plainly for him. If he noticed the way you were literally shaking as if cold despite the sweltering heat, he didn’t comment on it.

“I healed that nasty cut you had on your arm, and I didn’t have to touch you to do it.”

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him, he may not have even felt the injury any longer, but you recalled the way he had breathed so heavily when he had discovered it. The rough tissue from the fast cauterization of it had bothered you, the idea of a scar marring his skin had bothered you and weren’t sure why the thought had upset you enough to prompt you into healing him. No response was given but the helmet was aimed at you. The darkness of his visor captivated you, rooting you in your spot. You tore your gaze away, unable to take the direct attention.

You weren’t sure your chills were solely from withdrawal having caught a glimpse of him in action…

His ship was…for the most part just a frame. The basic structure of the ship was intact, but everything that could be pried from the frame had been taken. The area around where he had landed was littered with parts the Jawa’s had left behind in their haste to flee the scene. It was an older ship, surely the parts were valuable for them to have taken nearly everything they could from it. You remained quiet as you approached it for the second time that day, behind your captor and fellow captive. Sparks intermittently lit up the interior of the ship, the gaping holes in the hull and siding allowed for you to see as well as hear them in the quiet of the desert.

Sounds of things slamming and an attempt to start the engines had you walking towards what was left of the ship. You hesitantly stepped up the ramp and into what was once the hold space. Wires hung from everywhere, the source of the sparks that still flew every so often as power found no way to transfer and run the various mechanics. You looked around and took in the bare bones of what was once a pretty ship. You spied the Mandalorian seated just inside a small doorway that led to what had to be his sleeping quarters. His shoulders were slumped, his helmet hanging low as the man gathered his thoughts.

A small hand touched the back of your ankle and your head snapped down to see the Child had climbed out of his pod and followed you both up the ramp. His touch hadn’t elicited the same nauseating and painful effect as it had done at first. Which allowed you to conclude that he had been trying to show you that he remembered you, from long ago and that he was trying to connect with you when reunited. He had used the Force to try and push his thoughts into your mind, though he was clumsy with it and had flooded his own emotions of a time past into you along with them.

You leaned down to help him scramble over a large chunk of the hold space wall that was dented and on the floor with a gentle hand on his back. He stopped in front of the Mandalorian just as a deep sigh fell from the man’s helmet, the Child babbling up at him as if in response.

Words didn’t leave your lips, knowing what it was like to have the place you called home and returned to at the end of the day decimated. Both in the literal and metaphorical sense. When you had first returned to your home planet of K’ath, you had faced the same desolation he was most likely experiencing. Your home had been destroyed and for a fleeting moment you thought you had taken too long to return from training and that your mother had fallen victim to the obvious attack aimed at you.  Turned out she had relocated with the help of some kind people that helped her to raise you, to a smaller and more secluded part of the inland area.

Without a word, the Mandalorian reached down to pick up the Child and held him to his chest as he walked past you and back down the ramp. You watched as he carefully placed the small figure securely into his pod, making sure that the blanket in there was flat for him to sit atop it. You felt something flutter in your chest at the sight and tears sprung up in your eyes at the softness. You weren’t sure if it was because you missed when the touch of your mother had been soft toward you or if you were moved at seeing such a formidable man taking the time to ensure the comfort of such a small being. Emotions confusing you more than you already were at the way things were unfolding, you turned around quickly so they wouldn’t be seen by your captor.

“Move it.” And with that you followed them both back into the expanse of the desert, wiping the cuffs of your tunic underneath your eyes.

It was nightfall the next day when you stopped walking, the journey long and tiring on an empty stomach and no water. A complaint didn’t leave you, not one to bring up the impossibilities of your captor sharing however he was keeping himself nourished. His suit must’ve held some sort of food or drink because every so often you would see his hand reach up to the bottom of his helmet. The previous night when he had stopped for a few hours, he seemed to have been taking sips from a small pouch you hadn’t seen before.

There was a smattering of structures up ahead, surely the destination he was seeking out. There were lights on in the alcove over the entrance to a typical structure most lived in on desert planets. Equipment to farm moisture from the air. There was a beacon of some sort that jutted out tall on the landscape, a figure tinkering away at the top of it. As you approached, the figure spoke.

“I thought you were dead.”

The shuffling sound of the Child fidgeting in the pod urged you to reach down for him. The hard gaze of the Mandalorian weighing on your back as you did so. You carefully lifted him underneath his armpits, the rough fabric of his clothing against your fingers as you lowered him to the ground where he immediately began to play with a small frog-like creature that had been minding its own business. It was a rather endearing sight, the small coos falling from him prompting a soft smile to grace your features. 

“This is what was causing all the fuss?” The figure that you could decipher now, that of an older Ugnaught, climbed down and stood beside the Child, watching as you and the Mandalorian did.

“I think it’s a child.” The Mandalorian glanced over at the Child as he played with the frog-like creature, chasing it around the open area with small steps and gurgles. The man was standing with a foot atop something as he leaned over his knee slightly and messed with the cuff on his left arm that was emitted an even electronic glow up and down the entirety of it. You suspected his back was hurting him and he was subtly trying to stretch it out. That fall from the Jawas fortress must’ve hurt, as he had landed directly on his back onto the rocky ground.

“It is better to deliver it alive then. And who might you be?”

You just shook your head and bowed your gaze as the Ugnaught approached you. You were sitting down beside the pod, not sure where the Mandalorian preferred you but positive he would be unhappy if you weren’t within his range of immediate sight.

“Another quarry, to be taken back alive. Directly to the person who contracted the Guild.”

You didn’t look up as he walked away from you, going about his business.

“My ship has been destroyed. I’m trapped here.”

“Stripped. Not destroyed.” The Ugnaught corrected evenly as he piddled around his workspace before going to stand beside the armored man. A tool was handed over. “The Jawas steal. They do not destroy.”

“Stolen or destroyed, makes no difference to me.”

You scoffed lightly at the nearly petulant tone of the Mandalorian’s voice. At the movement of his helmet toward you, you huffed and tried to cover it with a cough. Though it wasn’t much of a performance as the noise deep in your dry throat had been too much stress. Your fake cough quickly delved into a fit of very real coughing. You waved off the Child as he approached you with drooping ears and wide eyes, plaything momentarily forgotten. The Ugnaught set down a pouch beside your feet, silently offering you what was inside it. You gingerly took the pouch, not drinking from it yet as you tried to wait for what he wanted in exchange for it.

“That is yours to keep, you must stay hydrated here on Arvala-7, it’s an unforgiving planet.”

You sputtered around the sip you had taken, trying to hold what little of your dignity you had left and not spit out the precious water in your shock. Surely you were just exhausted and your body strung out, mishearing what the man had to say. The sip you took glistened on your bottom lip as you stared from him to the Mandalorian just beyond him, both of them watching you as you struggled to swallow the water in your mouth like a fool.

“Wait, we… we aren’t on Tatooine?”

“No.” Such a simple word, a simple statement, but it tilted the axis on which you stood. Altering the very understanding of what was going on that you had just begun to grasp at over the last few days. You were standing quickly, mind moving a mile a minute as it tried to process the new information.

“….what- what planet are we on?”

“Arvala-7.”

“Oh.” You felt dizzy, vertigo rocking your entire body and making your knees buckle to try and right it back on track. Your knees hit the ground hard, and your palms followed as you tried and failed to catch yourself. A panic settled over you, you weren’t even aware of what kriffing planet you were on. Shame bubbled up and settled hard in your throat, making it hard to catch a breath. Gasping in breaths only made the vertigo worse and you felt yourself crumble completely on the ground, your vision spinning and your senses not comprehending anything.

“They- they drugged me and moved me across the fucking galaxy and I had no idea.” You muttered, face pressed into the cool sand of the ground now that the sun had set completely. You felt the heavy gaze of your captor but it was too calming a sensation to relinquish the way you laid on the ground, the coolness of it on your heated face. Shame flared up again, stronger this time and making your entire body warm, overwhelming you. “I-I don’t…no. No.”

You pushed yourself up roughly, standing on shaking legs and walked away from the two men and the Child. You were vaguely aware that the Mandalorian made to follow after you, but soft words from the Ugnaught stopped the man in his tracks. You staggered around the main part of his small abode, away from the sounds of their voices, needing a second to gather your swirling thoughts. You leaned back against the side of the building and let your body slink down it to settle on the ground. Bringing your knees up to your chest you crossed your arms atop them and laid your head down, face hidden.

“Give her a moment. She’s been through a lot if the stories about the compound are true. There’s nowhere for her to run.”

“Running isn’t the problem. She might kill herself.”

“She won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I have spoken.”

“The Jawas are protected by the crawling fortress.” He went back to repairing his cuff, the Child’s sounds picking back up as he resumed playing. “There’s no way to recover the parts.”

“You can trade.”

“With Jawas. Are you out of your mind?” Incredibility genuine in the man’s modulated voice carried in the air over the building and you spared a curious thought mid mental breakdown as to what exactly his problem with the small species was.

“I will take you to them. I have spoken.”

“Hey! Spit that out.”

His raised voice made you jump, even though it wasn’t aimed at you and he couldn’t even see you.

Between a literal child and…the mystery of who you were beginning to get on his nerves. Each fob was a job but the two that had activated upon landing.  He took each job seriously, wanting to devote all that he had to them individually, but he didn’t have that luxury this time around. Both of you needing transport within sensitive time frames a little too much to be easy with how much trouble was occurring since securing you both. Things happening in too quick a concession for him to come up with a solid plan, especially in the wake of losing his ship.

You traveled through the night, a storm breaking and rain poured down upon your little group as you crossed the terrain. You, the floating pod, and the Mandalorian were settled on the transport that was being pulled along behind the blurrg that the Ugnaught was guiding. The blinding lightning and the subsequent boom of thunder had you curled into yourself, but you disguised your discomfort with the storm as trying to shield yourself from as much of the rainfall as possible.

It was well into the following day when you spied the structure of the crawling fortress that the Jawas called home. The Ugnaught directed the blurrg closer to the stationary structure. It appeared to be that they had stopped in order to access their recent scavenges. Small sunshades were propped up and items were strewn all around them, their figures milling about and taking stock of what they had. A wave of sound flowed through the air to your approaching group as they spotted you in the distance.

The Mandalorian removed the rifle from his back and held it at the ready. Wariness at seeing the Jawas again evident in the tension that you could feel coming off of him in waves. The Ugnaught held up a hand and shouted out a greeting to them from atop the blurrg as you cleared the remaining distance and came to a stop within the shade of their giant structure.

They raised their own weapons, ushering more of their people to make almost a blockade to protect their wares.

“They really don’t like you for some reason.”

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them.”

“You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are a part of my religion.”

“Then you are not getting your parts back.”

A deep sigh left him as he weighed his options. You watched as he ushered a tight ‘fine’ and placed his rifle beside his feet, close to you directly on the transport. He stood from his seat and stood on the ground, a small motion of his hand directing you to follow suit. You stood and stepped down off the transport to stand just behind him, a few feet of space between you.

“And the blaster.”

You watched as the armored man clenched his fists, aggravation obvious. The Ugnaught approached the Jawas, speaking in their native tongue as he did so. 

You turned back around at a soft cooing sound and helped the Child down from his pod once again with careful hands. You placed him on the transport, hoping he wouldn’t try to hop off, he seemed content to stand there and watch the flurry of motion. The Mandalorian was suddenly in your space and causing goosebumps to sprout along your arms as he leaned so far into your space that your arms nearly brushed as he tossed his blaster onto the transport.

All three of you settled into a seated semi-circle, Jawas mirroring you a few feet away to create a full one.

“They will trade all the parts for the beskar.”

“I’m not going to trade anything. These are my parts. They stole them from me.” He pointed a gloved finder at them, his tone hard as he spoke. You remained still, back straight as the armored man leaned back on one hand slightly, one of his knees bent up to rest his pointing hand on. He was close, too close and your nerves felt like they were on fire as you silently watched on. Instincts urging you to put distance between you. 

He attempted to speak to them in their native tongue, his words clumsily fumbling from his modulator. It was an odd thing to hear, his low voice sounding unsure as he spoke. Shrill laughter sounded from all around as the Jawas poked fun at his lack of ability in their language. That only angered him further and he flung out the arm he had been leaning on and flames erupted from his cuff. You startled, drawing the attention of the Jawas even as they scrambled about in panic.

The Ugnaught reigned in the commotion quickly, asking what else they were willing to trade. When the main one talking with you pointed past the three of you and toward the transport you felt the need to move. Before you could blink, you were waving away two Jawas that had approached the Child, the Mandalorian shouting at them to get away from his as well. The prickle of their eyes focused on your figure set you on edge. 

More words were exchanged before the Jawas surrounded you in a rush of swirling black cloaks and glowing eyes. Your anxiety sparked as you felt small hands begin to reach out for you, but you didn’t move. You stood perfectly still despite the flurry of movement around you, continuing to shield the Child from them, the feeling of small hands patting at places on your body over your tunic.

You had the fleeting thought of using the Force to push them all away from you at once and make a run for it, but the glint of beskar out of the corner of your eye held you still. You were sure if you were in better health you would attempt to despite your earlier musings. But the truth of the matter was that you were stranded here just as he was without his ship. The desert was unforgiving to those who had no supplies. You knew from experience…

The Ugnaught was quick to respectfully usher them away with sharp words, oblivious to the loop of revelations running in your mind.

“What are they saying? She has nothing on her.”

“It’s not about what she has, it’s about what she is. They claim to have heard of the favors she’s done at the compound and want the same. In exchange for the parts you need.”

“They weren’t favors, I gained nothing from what those guards did to me.”

Seething aggravation dripped from the words you spat out without thinking. Your lips curling back in an ugly grimace as you did so, catching the two men still seated off guard. You hadn’t shown such emotion in front of either of them, only a glimpse of it as you had asked the Mandalorian to kill you just a few days before. But that had been desperation, not the white-hot fury that you carried with you for those that had kept you captive and tortured you.

It fell silent. Tension pulling your muscles taught as you prepared for this new captor to turn you over in order to get back what was rightfully his, what was stolen from him. You schooled your face into a mask, not willing to let them see the way you felt about it, about being used and traded as if you were credit, as if you were nothing, despite your outburst.

The Jawas watched you intently, their glowing eyes raking over your body. You remained in your spot between the Jawas and the transport. There was a hush of movement before you felt hands grasp your shoulders, the Mandalorian having stood and crossed the small space in a few strides. His touch shocked you, not having expected him to do such a thing, especially after his strict orders of no contact.

“She is not for trade.”

“They claim they do not want to keep her.”

“That’s even worse.” Large hands guided you back the few steps toward the transport. He held a hand resting steadily on the backs of your shoulders to help you to step up onto it and waited until you were settled by the Kid’s pod before leaning down to speak to you in a low tone that couldn’t be picked up by anyone else. The modulator masking any emotion in his low tone.

“I will not trade you for parts, you are not mine to do so with.”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, resisting speaking lest it be the wrong move. Of putting yourself in a situation that wasn’t playing out. If he were to trade you for parts, you’d have a better chance at besting the tribe of Jawas. But the issue of travel once again was the one thing tripping up your freedom. The helmet’s visor tilted slightly as he watched you for a moment, reading the things your face and posture were giving away despite you trying to reign them in. You didn’t like that while seated on the transport and him standing beside it put you at an even eyelevel.

“You have something to say.” You just nodded your head once, still hesitant to speak, he had been so harsh all those days ago, continued to be so, and you didn’t want to see what he would do if you disobeyed. You had been quiet since he had raised his voice at you, only speaking when he spoke to you as you quickly figured out how to best interact with him. “You may do so.”

“My saber, they would trade you anything you wanted for the saber. It’s highly valuable.” You nodded to where it was fastened to his utility belt, the metal of the handle glinting in the sun as it decorated his frame, nestled in with the rest his belongings.

“Beskar and kyber are not to be traded to those it does not belong to. If it is anything like beskar is to us Mandalorians, I will protect it as if it were my own until we are to part. It remains with those who value and respect it.”

The visor of his helmet was no longer trained on your face and his back was to you as he walked back to where the Ugnaught was speaking with the Jawas. You just watched, shocked at both his actions and his words.

You were silent as a trade was established and your group was ushered into the crawling fortress. The cramped spaces designed for the smaller forms of the Jawas had you leaning low as you settled into a seat while it spurred into movement.

“You run, and I will give chase. Do not forget that.” The Mandalorian’s warning chilled you as you knew all too well that he was speaking the truth. You stood beside the pod ramrod straight, not wanting any movement to make him suspect you were foolish enough to give in to your instincts. You nodded once to signal that you understood him, that you would remain out here and wait for his return. “Do not interfere, I need the credits and you are to be returned unarmed.”

All was quiet as his figure disappeared into the cave you had approached after leaving the crawling fortress, the reflection of the light on his helmet dimming until the entrance was pitch black once again. 

You don’t know how much time passed but it could’ve have been long, before the faint sounds of blaster fire decorated the air. The body of the Mandalorian came flying out of the cave suddenly with a shout. You watched as he landed with a sickening thud into the thick mud that had resulted from last night’s storm. Some of it splattered up from the force of his landing.

You fought against the urge to run toward him to see if he was okay when a loud roar echoed through the air from the entrance of the cave. You saw the damaged plate of his chest armor bent and nearly falling from his downed frame. The sound hit you deep in your bones, it settled heavily into your stomach and froze in your spot. You reached for the saber that wasn’t attached to the waist of your tunic and you felt utterly exposed.  

You could only watch as a large shape emerged from the cave. As the sunlight settled over it, a rather large mudhorn was revealed to be the culprit. Beside you, the Child cowered in his pod, ears drooping low as he tried to shy as far into the interior of the pod as possible while still being able to peer over the lip of it. You reached out a hand to rest atop it, prepared to throw it away should you need to.

The scene unfolded before you, the fight the Mandalorian tried to put up against the angered beast. But he was at a disadvantage, the creature far larger and far stronger than he was. His rifle jammed, allowing the mudhorn to charge him and fling him into the air once again with a hard hit of its ivory. The rifle flew from the man’s grip, splattering into the mud in much the same fashion as he did. The creature set its sight on you and the pod, altering its charge. 

You scrambled to put more distance between you and scaled the outcropping of rock behind you while the Mandalorian hit the panel on his cuff and directed the pod to fly away out of the direct line of the creature. Its horn connected hard with the rock formation you were clinging to, the force of it jolting as you tried to keep your hold.

Deeming you too high a target, the creature turned on its heel and set its eyes back on the downed Mandalorian. You watched from your perch as he got dragged and thrown around again and again, still fighting against the creature after every avenue seemed to prove pointless in overpowering it. Another particularly harsh fling had him crashing into the ground and when he didn’t move to get up you found yourself climbing back down to the ground.

Before you could think to do anything, the creature was rearing itself to charge him again. As it neared him, the Mandalorian managed to get up onto his knees and held out a small dagger in front of him. A frown pulled at your lips as you realized that was all he had left to defend himself. He struggled to get a steady hold on the small weapon, his head bobbing and his arms shaking. He bowed his head and held the dagger out in front of him with both hands as the creature closed in on him.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight. You clenched your eyes shut and flung a hand out but concentration left you in the wake of blinding panic. Across the clearing, the Child did the same motion, mimicking you as he too clenched his eyes.

When sounds of the creature struggling finally wedged into your tunneled ears, you looked up with a gasp to see it being held steady in the air. Your head whipped around toward the pod, despite the distance it was obvious that the Child was using the Force to restrain the creature, effectively stopping it from killing the Mandalorian. Shaking off whatever he was feeling at the sight, the Mandalorian stood and slowly approached the floating, struggling creature. He spared a glance at you and then the Child when you nodded your head over toward it.

The Child seemed to lose his concentration, becoming overwhelmed with using the Force and he collapsed back into the pod. The mudhorn’s figure settling back onto the ground shook the clearing. All was still for a moment before the Mandalorian ran toward it. With a quick movement, he dug the dagger deep into its neck, collapsing as he did so.

It was quiet as he stood back up. Looking over the downed creature and twisting the blade in further before removing it completely.

A deep roar sounded from the mouth of the cave again, sending a trill of panic over you. One of them was enough of a challenge. Two of them would mean the death of the Mandalorian and subsequently you and the Child.

“Jatne vod, ogir's shol'shya!”

Sir, watch out, there’s one more!

Your shout was loud and sudden, voice harsh with panic. The already exhausted and beaten man had no more weapons, yours had been tucked into his belt, but you didn’t see it on his person anymore. The probability of it being lost in the mud somewhere from when he had been flung about like a ragdoll. 

You rushed across the clearing before the cave as a second, larger, angrier mudhorn exploded out from the entrance at incredible speed. You reached out a tether with the Force, trying to hone in on the kyber crystal that you could hear faint whispers from. You were just stepping in front of the man still in front of the first downed mudhorn when the handle of your saber flew to you from the depths of the mud.

He rushed from the fallen body of the dead mudhorn and ran toward the pod in an attempt to protect the now unconscious Child.

A split second later the mudhorn made a curdling roar as you reached a hand out to shove the creature back a few yards, getting it as far from the two recovering figures as you could muster. Rushing after it without another word. It was already back up and rushing toward you, angered at having been tossed in such a way, at seeing the corpse of its partner off to the side.

You dropped to your knees and used the slickness of the mud to slide entirely underneath its charging form. Reaching up you engaged the saber, the white light of the blade searing a deep cut above you across the entirety of the creature’s underside.

The creature fell to the ground, dead. And you let darkness take over you as you collapsed beside it, the saber falling from your shaking arms.

The Mandalorian watched from where he was kneeling heavily on the ground in front of the pod, his knees digging into the thick mud. Both you and the small being in the pod were passed out, the foreign powers you both had used draining you. That was two quarries that had decided to save his life despite the circumstances, two debts he now owed…

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scene dividers made by the lovely @cafekitsune​

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 2, 10, 13, 24, 29

“It didn’t have to be this way.” | Made to Watch | “Can you hear me?” | Fear | Adrenaline | Blankets | Delirium

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Contains: gore, death, blood, magic side effects (nosebleed, coughing up blood, collapse), blurred lines between reality and unreality, heavy insinuation of noncon/SA, past character death/minor whump

WC: 870

Threads of sorrow and screams

Dreams took him, but the seer couldn’t tell if they were sleeping or waking visions. It mattered little; they hurt the same. They wove the same horrors, threads of sorrow and screams spun into ghastly tapestries.

He watched, cowering, as the room that was his prison became the dreamscape, bringing with it a figure from his darkest nightmares.

His brother.

No, he thought. Not today. Not when their sister was suffering unknown torments, too. Not after the prince had so gloatingly admitted what he’d done, yet left enough mystery to the details that the seer knew his mind and conscience could never, ever rest.

Please, no, the seer pleaded, but of course, it was just a vision, and of course, he had no voice.

The spectral child—frozen in time within a round, rosy body, eight or nine years old—met his gaze. The seer fell backwards in horror, tripping over his chain. It saw. It knew.

Darkness, darkness, sucking him in deeper, devouring him, his soul, his entire being. Rushing, wailing wind. Seething, heaving breaths. Running footsteps. Shrill screams, the harrowing cries of someone in unimaginable agony.

Stop! he wanted to roar. Stop, please!

It never did, never, never, no matter how he yearned for escape.

His silent pleas became a voice, but the voice was not his.

“Please, stop, please! You don’t have to do this!”

His brother at his side. Older now. Seventeen. Cold, dead. A decaying corpse.

Not his voice.

“Please, please, don’t! Don’t! I—”

The seer clapped his hands over his ears. Loud, too loud. He didn’t want this. He’d never wanted this.

It didn’t have to be this way, said his brother, as wordless as he, yet his meaning dug into the seer like fanged worms, burrowing deep.

Light. Blinding. Piercing. A bed with bloodied blankets.

Red. Silk. A thud, a slap, a groan.

You did this to me. His own thoughts, never spoken. Haunting him, surrounding him, drowning him. You did this to me.

It didn’t have to be this way.

His sister sobbed, and his brother’s throat tore open, gushing blood.

You did this to me. His brother, seventeen and broken and bleeding and dead. His sister, weeping and broken and bleeding and—

The seer turned away, sobs still echoing all around him, but the vision endured. He waded through a scarlet puddle, bare soles burnt as if by acid, by poison. He stumbled, hit the floor, coated his hands in blood.

The man he’d seen before, the northerner. Bested, caught: a fly in a spider’s web, struggling valiantly but in vain against his bonds. Sweat soaked his hair and tunic; his wrists streamed crimson from fraying skin; ropes bound him fast. He called for help, but he, too, was silenced.

Drowned out by those ear-splitting screams.

The man’s struggles intensified. Just as he paused for a gasping, laboured breath, the chair’s balance tipped, and he fell.

The seer reached out his dripping fingers as if he might right the chair or loosen the ropes. As if he might do anything.

The man flinched as if scalded—as if he’d somehow felt the brush of ghostly fingers over his bound hands.

The seer was whisked away again, leaving the northerner to his fate.

You did this. You did this. You did this.

His sister’s cries grew silent.

No.

No—

A window, a roar of frustration, a moonlit night. The seer fell to his knees, despairing. Such a power, such a gift, and when it mattered the most, it was useless.

“Idiot! Sneaking off like that! I’ll have his hide when he gets back!”

The seer staggered toward the glass. A man, unmistakably furious, pacing anxiously. Concern written on his features in strokes of candlelight.

Blood stained the floor within, soaking in the ooze of his brother’s slashed throat. Red footprints, a trail of gore smeared over old wooden floorboards. Tainted. Cursed.

It didn’t have to be this way.

A fresh scream in the night, muffled and terrified. The fleshy slap of skin against skin.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

He’d never wanted this. In all his anger, in all his rage, in all his hatred—he’d never wanted any of this. Sobbing, he slammed his fist against the glass. 

It shattered.

The man inside leapt away from the explosion of glass shards, startled and astonished. The seer gaped down at his hand, bleeding now, littered with cuts.

Did I . . . ?

When he peered inside again, both his brother and the man had their gazes fixed on him.

Did they hear . . . ?

Can they see  . . . ?

Baring red-stained teeth, with blood bubbling over bruised, greying lips, his brother smiled.

The seer gasped awake, sprawled on the floor of his room, chain tangled around both legs as if he’d been writhing violently in his sleep. He coughed, panicking, clawing at his throat with bleeding fingers. Droplets of red sprayed from his mouth with each cough. Heavy wetness flowed from his nose again.

How did I . . . ?

Desperation, adrenaline, imagination, or madness? He didn’t know.

Certain his throat was torn apart, certain he was about to die, the seer let his eyes close and his body fall.

Somewhere beyond his prison, a shrill scream strangled into terrified, deathly silence.

June of Doom Masterlist

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All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 23)

WARNING: Hangings, SA insinuations

—————

All—or rather most of—the Lannister soldiers had returned to Casterly Rock, and though Tywin was expected to return to Kings Landing, he had sent a raven to Kevan. He’d rather enjoyed the small break from the utter hell that was the Red Keep, and so had I. 

With the kindness and hospitality of the Starks, we planned to spend another week at Winterfell. During that time, we also intended to visit Castle Black. Tywin had said it was nonsense, but I’d always wanted to see the wall, and he found that he couldn’t refuse me. Plus, if we were going to be here, we might as well actually enjoy it. 

I could tell he was also rather intrigued by the Stark girl, who he had not had the opportunity to speak with yet. Every time he saw her, there was a spark in his eyes I’d never seen before. He was trying to figure her out. 

The day we had planned to take our trip to the wall, he finally found an opportunity to interrogate her. Or at least, that’s what it felt like to her.

—————

Arya was going back to her room now that she’d finished her breakfast, hoping to get in some practice with needle. Truthfully, she was desperate to ask you for help. To train with you felt like something of a dream to her. She’d spent a lifetime listening to her older brothers talking about you when she was little, and since then, all she’d ever wanted was to be like you. 

A fierce, female warrior. Gods, she wanted it badly. Now that you were at Winterfell, she hoped to find an opportunity to ask for your tutelage. Though, it seemed she would have to get past Tywin Lannister in order to get to you, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. 

He’d laughed when he first saw her, yes, but there was always a possibility he’d grown angry about it since then. Or that he had assumed she had been trying to kill him. 

Well, she had meant to, but not when she’d named the guard. 

Though, these thoughts were all interrupted when she turned the hall and ran straight into the man she had been avoiding.

“M-My lord,” she stuttered, looking up at the significantly taller man. His eyes were like pure ice, despite being a southern.

“Lady Arya.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Tywin furrowed his eyebrows pensively. 

“It was you, wasn’t it? You tried to kill me,” he said, watching her lips part. She shook her head rather quickly, swallowing.

“No, my lord. It was only the messenger I killed. Well, it wasn’t me. I- I named him to another. The guard was going to tell you… I took one of your letters,” she admitted meekly, knowing he wouldn’t dare do anything to her in her own home. He merely nodded and paused for a second. It was at least reassuring to know that he wasn’t actually the target.

“Who did it?”

“I can’t remember his name. He was from Essos, though. He- he could change his face,” Arya said, lying to conceal Jaquen’s identity at least a little bit. Tywin could tell she was lying, but did not press further. If the man was from Essos it made no difference. It was the last part that captured his attention.

“How do you mean change his face?” Tywin inquired warily. The girl was not lying, but perhaps he had misunderstood.

“He could become different people. He could change how he looked. I don’t- I don’t know how to explain it, my lord,” she said, watching his pensive face. It was always so impossible to tell what Tywin Lannister was thinking. For anyone that wasn’t you, at least.

Tywin had heard of faceless men before, and knew that if they did exist they served the ‘many faced god.’ He’d never entirely believed in their legitimacy, but the girl had no reason to lie. Nor would she even know about faceless men unless she’d really met one. 

“I see. Well, I’m glad I was not the intended target. Though, it was rather bold of you to take one of my letters,” he said sharply, eyes squinting at the young Stark. Arya wanted to swallow, a certain fear in her stomach, but she did not let it show.

“Wouldn’t you do the same if you knew someone intended to harm your family?” She questioned. He paused for a moment, and then nodded. 

“Yes, yes I would.”

They both stared at each other for a few moments, and Arya found herself wondering if she should say something. In all honesty, she wasn’t exactly sure what to say, and she was grateful when Tywin spoke first.

“You’re a clever girl, Lady Arya,” he remarked, handing out a rare compliment. 

“You’re not mad at me?” She asked, swallowing now. She couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“No, girl. You were impressive, though perhaps bolder than most would be. If you were only a bit less rigid, I might’ve believed your lies,” he complimented, giving her an appreciative look. She felt herself smiling, though she did not want to. Arya found conversation with Tywin Lannister easy, especially now that they weren’t at war. 

“You’re not as bad as everyone says, you know,” she said after hesitating for a moment. She would never entirely trust him, just as any smart person would, but he’d been more decent to her than plenty of men. 

“You’d better not tell people you think that,” he warned, reminding her that as much as he enjoyed her, she wasn’t quite his equal. Not yet. 

“I wasn’t going to, but I thought I ought to tell you,” she said, looking down at his boots for a moment. She forced herself to look back at his face. 

“I would thank you if I thought it was a compliment. I’ve done plenty of bad in my life, Lady Arya. Sparing you from that side of me doesn’t erase it. Come, I’ll walk you to wherever you’re going,” he said, motioning for her to keep walking. He wanted to make the conversation somewhat productive. She nodded and began to walk toward her chambers. His heavy steps followed behind. 

“I know that. But still, plenty of men are unreasonable to everyone, and you’re not. You let me speak and ask questions, even though I shouldn’t have,” she pointed out to him, looking up. She’d grown taller since he’d last seen her, but was still quite a lot shorter than he was. She also looked much more like a woman now. Her days of hiding as a boy were long over.

“You intrigued me. A young girl hiding as a boy who knew how to read and knew plenty of history. And you’re not dumb. You’d be surprised just how often I’m plagued by people full of stupidity,” he grumbled, making her smile a bit. 

“I saw it firsthand.”

“Then I’m surprised you don’t understand why I was decent towards you.”

Arya laughed at that one, and Tywin gave her a brief smile. She’d only seen it for a second, but somehow she found herself holding onto it. Tywin Lannister never smiled. He only did so in front of people he truly enjoyed, such as you and Arya.

“I thought you’d be more like-“ Arya paused, suddenly realizing she shouldn’t say what she intended to. 

“Like whom?” Tywin questioned, already knowing which name was about to slip from her tongue. He had no great care for his eldest grandson either. 

“Like… Joffrey,” she finished quietly, looking down at the stone ground passing beneath her feet. 

“That boy was singular, and not in a good way. The product of a detached father and a mother who gave him anything he wanted. Though, I imagine it’s more than that. Tommen and Myrcella are nothing like him,” he noted, reflecting that of his grandchildren Joffrey truly was the only one with such a spoiled, cruel nature. Perhaps it was that he had been raised to be king. 

Or perhaps some were put on earth simply to be cruel. 

“He was the reason- Mycah…” Arya had muttered it under her breath, but Tywin had heard. 

“Hm?”

She looked up at him, swallowing.

“Years ago, when we were on the kingsroad with father and King Robert, I’d met this boy named Mycah in one of the villages. His name was Mycah. We were practicing- sparring. Joffrey and Sansa found us, and Joffrey cut Mycah as a punishment. The situation… well, it didn’t get any better. My direwolf bit him and he got so upset Cersei demanded they kill Sansa’s wolf since they couldn’t find mine. Sansa should’ve realized he was a horrible boy that day,” Arya ranted, eyebrows knitting together as she thought about it. Tywin watched the anger boil within her. 

“Well, Margaery Tyrell saved her a bit of trouble on that front. A lifetime of it,” Tywin remarked, not certain what to say about the rest of her story. He certainly found it quite truthful, though. It was exactly the kind of thing Cersei would do. His daughter was complex, and often two different people. The same woman who had cried in his arms was simultaneously capable of great cruelty. 

“Sansa told me they were good friends. She also spoke highly of Lady (Y/N). Robb did too,” Arya noted, trying to gauge the Old Lion’s reaction as she said your name. She was hoping somehow she would get the opportunity to bring up that she wished to practice with you. 

“Yes, most people do,” Tywin said simply. The girl was going somewhere with this, he understood that, but he simply wanted to watch her get to the point herself.

“Sansa wrote from Highgarden a few months ago. She said she’d witnessed the tourney held in Kings Landing, and that Lady (Y/N) had emerged victorious in the fighting rounds. She said that- that just as everyone began to fear for her life, she escaped her chokehold by stabbing both of the man’s eyes. Sansa said it made her nauseous, but I would’ve liked to see it,” Arya rambled fondly, a clear admiration for you in her tone. Tywin was quite aware of this, and it took him more work than usual to hold back a smile. 

“She’s an inspiration to you, isn’t she? Along with Visenya Targaryen,” he questioned, remembering the conversations they’d had at Harrenhal. Arya nodded, a bright grin on her face. He could tell she wanted to be a warrior more than anything else on earth. 

“I was- I was wondering if you… if you could ask her to practice with me. To teach me some things,” Arya finally managed to get out, looking up at Tywin expectantly. He gave her a slight nod. 

“You ought to ask her yourself. She’ll be happy to do it.”

Arya instantly grinned even wider, and it was then that she realized they’d reached her room. Stopping, she swallowed and considered what she was going to say.

“Thank you, Lord Tywin,” was all she managed, not entirely sure how else she could express her gratitude. Both for giving her the courage to approach you and for walking with her. Not to mention, for sparing her life at Harrenhal.

“You’re welcome, my lady. Try and behave yourself, hm? You’ve got quite a bit of Tully in you,” Tywin remarked, affectionately placing his hand on her head. She nodded, and he motioned for her to go in. Once she had, he found himself smiling. The girl was so clever, so eager to learn. 

Being around children like that reminded him of what his life had been like before Tyrion was born. It reminded him of the days he’d been able to sit on the beach with Joanna while the children played in the ocean. If Ned Stark was still alive, he had no question in his mind that he would be beyond proud of his children.

Tywin wished he could say the same. 

—————

I was getting ready for our trip to the wall, dressed in the standard northern fashions, and admittedly quite happy that I was. With winter arriving any day now, temperatures had begun to drop increasingly low. 

Plus, as I looked in the mirror and found Tywin adjusting the straps of his fur cloak, I realized he was quite the portrait in leather. 

I came up behind him, smiling as his eyes met mine in the mirror.

“What?” He asked, knowing I was about to make some sort of remark. Just as I had learned to read his expressions, he knew mine perfectly.

“Northern fashion suits you, my lord. You look quite handsome in furs and leather,” I said, wrapping my arms around his chest and grinning at him in the reflection. 

“Is that so? I prefer you, my lady, in Lannister red and golds. Or your custom, scandalous Tyrell fashions,” he said, turning around to face me. There was a quick kiss planted on my forehead.

“Not to say that this dress doesn’t flatter you, of course,” he corrected himself quickly, looking me up and down. I raised an eyebrow at him. 

“If you’re honest with yourself, Tywin, you just like to see my tits out,” I teased, running my hand over his hair to fix a few strands. 

“May I demand a trial by combat?” He muttered in reply, making me laugh rather loudly. Tywin, I occasionally realized, had become accustomed to making jokes around me. It was an odd thing to consider, especially when he never did it around anybody else. I made him unafraid to smile and laugh, it seemed.

I kissed his cheek, and he leaned into my touch with a gentle smile. I then watched him pull his gloves on and reach for his sword. 

“You’re going to bring a sword?” I questioned, not seeing any danger at the wall so long as we were with the Starks. Jon Snow was Lord Commander, after all.

“The night's watch is entirely made up of murderers and rapists. Yes, I’m going to bring my sword. You ought to hide a dagger in your boots,” he suggested, sheathing the weapon in his belt. I knew he was right, and so naturally I opted to take his advice. Once I had stored my dagger safely, I took his arm and accompanied him outside. 

“I spoke with the Stark girl today, just after breakfast,” he said suddenly as we walked through the somewhat snow-covered ground. We were heading for the stables, of course.

“Oh? And how did that go?” I inquired, lifting my skirts slightly. 

“Well. She looks up to you. She also mentioned wanting to ask you to teach her some things as far as swordsmanship is concerned,” he revealed, making me smile brightly. To inspire young girls like her would always make me happy. It was reassuring to know that female warriors would continue to persevere despite criticism from the opposite sex.

“And how did you respond to that?” I asked, shivering slightly. Even despite my dress, it was freezing outside. 

“I told her she should ask you herself, and that you’d probably be more than happy to do it,” Tywin said, reaching for his cloak. When I realized he meant to give it to me, I shook my head. 

“Don’t. I’ll warm up once we start riding. Plus, I don’t want you to get cold either. If you get sick you’ll whine just as all men do,” I told him, watching him raise a challenging eyebrow. He clearly disagreed with my sentiment.

“I would not whine. Lesser men, perhaps, but not me,” he grumbled, upset. I began to laugh.

“If you say so, Tywin.”

I was still laughing when Robb Stark, followed by his two younger siblings, appeared in the courtyard. Tywin gave me a look that told me to be silent, which I cooperated with. Though Tywin and I joked with each other often, I understood there was always a fearsome reputation to maintain, and I would never get in the way of that. 

At least in front of other nobles. 

“Lord Tywin, Lady (Y/N). On your way to the stables?” Robb inquired, walking beside us now. Arya and Rickon were chatting away behind us, both rather excited to see Jon Snow, I gathered.

“Yes, my lord. I’d like to thank you again for bringing us with you to the wall. The Lord Hand may complain, but I am personally rather excited to see it,” I said, smiling at him while Tywin scoffed and shook his head. Robb smiled too.

“Of course. It’s good that you’re here now, Jon’s hanging a group of traitors today, I hear,” he explained, looking over at his shoulder. We all had a mutual understanding that the children ought to be exposed to it. Death was inevitable for all of us, we might as well be accustomed to it. 

“Traitors?” Tywin questioned, clearly wanting to know what they had done.

“Angry about his decision to bring wildlings south. They tried to kill Jon,” Robb informed, making my eyebrows raise in surprise. 

Murders and rapists, indeed. 

After reaching the stables and mounting our horses, our small group—plus a modest amount of guards—set out for the wall. 

Robb and Rickon were riding in the front, and I rode beside Tywin and Arya behind them. The Hound and two other men were at the very back of the group. 

“Lady (Y/N)… I have a question,” Arya said, to which I raised my eyebrows, indicating that she ask it. 

“Would you… would you practice with me? Or rather, teach me, I suppose. Sandor’s been helping me with my sword work, but you’re quite good with daggers. Plus you’re- well, smaller than Sandor. I’d like to get advice from someone that doesn’t have that advantage,” she said, smiling at me. I instantly nodded and returned the grin.

“Of course, Lady Arya. Daggers are the best weapons a person can learn to yield. Especially a woman, as they’re easy to hide underneath skirts and such. I’d be more than happy to help you. We can start tomorrow if you’d like,” I offered, watching the excitement grow in her eyes. 

“And you’re talented with poison, too. Could you teach me something about that?”

The girl was rather surprising, and I saw Tywin look over in my peripheral vision. Clearly her request had caught both of us off guard. 

“I don’t- well, learning to fight is one thing, Lady Arya, but unless you intend to go around killing people, poison doesn’t exactly have a place within what I can teach you,” I said, trying to let her down gently. 

“I have a list,” she explained simply, to which I was unable to hide my shock. This girl was unlike any other I’d ever met. 

“I see. Well, let’s focus on the daggers first, hm?” I suggested, knowing that most poisons would be dangerous if they even so much as touched her skin. She’d need to become extremely talented with the blade before attempting to coat them. 

Arya nodded, looking ahead again. I turned to Tywin, who was trying to suppress a smile. He succeeded, but I’d caught the look on his face. 

“What?” I asked, knowing he wanted to say something. He leaned toward me a bit. 

“You were even more wild at her age.”

He whispered it only loud enough for me to hear, and I promptly responded by smacking his shoulder. He leaned away from me, raising both eyebrows playfully. He wasn’t smiling, but I could tell he was amused and reveling in his ability to infuriate me. 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment and not as the insult you meant it to be, Tywin,” I said, not exactly facing him but glaring at him from the side of my eyes anyways. 

“I did not mean it as an insult, my lady. It was only the truth.”

“Well, perhaps I would not have been quite so wild if my host had not been an insufferable-“ 

I had been about to say it, but I caught myself and held my tongue, knowing that Robb Stark and the rest of his family would not find it humorous the way that Tywin and I did. 

Most likely, they would assume we were actually having an argument and grow uncomfortable. 

Either way, Tywin had quite the smug look on his face, and I couldn’t resist the urge to scoff and smile at him. 

In all my life, I’d never met anyone other than Tywin who managed to make me smile without fail. Or who managed to tease and aggravate me so much simultaneously. It was one of the things I loved most about him.

Just then, the trees around the road began to clear up, and Tywin and I found ourselves gazing upon the wall itself. It was just a bit taller than I remembered Casterly Rock being, and that meant it was massive.

Robb Stark looked back at us, a smile on his face when he saw my gaping mouth. 

“You never get used to seeing it, trust me,” he said, to which I nodded in agreement. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing one could get used to.

We could see Castle Black now too, and I was glad for it. I had in fact not warmed up on the ride there, and I was desperate to be by a fire. Or out of the cold wind, at the very least.

When we reached the gates, the guards inquired about who we were for a moment, but easily relented and called for Jon Snow once Robb had explained it. 

Plus, surely the Stark banners waving behind us were a sign enough.

As our group entered and dismounted, several men took our horses away, though not without glancing at me quite obviously. My shivering continued. 

Murderers and rapists.

Arya was walking besides Robb, and I knew men wouldn’t dare to look at her simply out of respect. If they’d known the man beside me was Tywin Lannister, I doubted they’d continue to stare.

Tywin hadn’t noticed them staring yet, and I was grateful. The last thing I wanted to do was cause an unnecessary scene. 

“(Y/N), are you certain you don’t want my cloak?”

I turned to Tywin, who placed his hands on my arms and began to rub a bit in attempts to warm me up. I shook my head, despite the way I was shaking.

He ran a gloved hand over my hair, wrapping one arm around me and keeping me close to him as we continued to walk. 

We soon ventured inside, and I was grateful for it. Jon Snow was in his chambers, and we all watched him burst from them upon hearing our footsteps. He embraced Robb like he was a dying man, and did the same with both Arya and Rickon. It made me feel awful for marrying Sansa off to Loras. 

It was better than marrying Tyrion and staying in King's Landing, though. Starks didn’t do well in King’s Landing.

“Jon, this is Tywin Lannister, and (Y/N) Tyrell. They brought troops north to help fight Stannis and thought they might stay a bit longer,” Robb explained, watching Jon’s eyes widen a bit. Tywin had let go of me since we were inside, and I wondered if Jon realized that I was… well, spoken for.

I recalled Robb saying that both he and Jon had talked about me as young men, and it made me smile when he began to stutter.

“My lord, m-my lady. It’s an honor,” he said, reaching to shake Tywin’s hand. He shook mine too, though he admittedly seemed quite nervous.

“Thank you for having us, Lord Commander,” I said sweetly.

“Of course. I’m sorry it had to be on the day of a hanging,” he apologized somewhat regretfully, and it seemed as though he knew something we didn’t.

“Well, from what I hear there was an attempt to take your life. This does not seem unfitting,” I reasoned, knowing both Tywin and I would’ve hung any man who tried to do the same to us. 

The man merely nodded, and Robb began to laugh as he wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. They were heading outside, and I looked over at Tywin as we followed behind. 

“I don’t like how he looked at you,” he said quietly, not bothering to look over at me. I took his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder for a moment.

“Then perhaps you ought to make it more obvious that I’m yours.”

He exhaled in a way that resembled a laugh, and I couldn’t resist a smile as we ventured into the cold once more. There was a crowd of men waiting to watch the hanging, and they all stared as Jon and Robb came into view. 

That was when they noticed me, too, and began to smile and joke with each other. I’d never been so grateful to not hear what was being said of me.

“Do not leave my side, (Y/N). Under any circumstance,” Tywin mumbled, to which I nodded. I had no intention of moving away from him. I had my blade in my boot, but if a group of men decided to catch me alone, it would not be enough. Especially if they all had swords. 

Well, I might be able to disarm one and fight the rest, but still, it was not a position I wanted to find myself in. 

We made our way into the courtyard, standing in the back with Robb and his siblings. Jon went up the platform, where those awaiting death were lined up. One of them was only a young boy, and for some reason it made me profoundly sad. 

I let myself lean on Tywin’s arm, and he reached to pull me into his side. I always felt so angry with myself when I got sentimental about death, especially because I’d killed so many during my lifetime.

But either way, it would occasionally make me sad regardless. 

“You don’t have to watch if you don’t wish to, (Y/N),” Tywin pointed out, watching as they made their confessions to Jon Snow. The young boy said nothing. 

“Robb is making Arya and Rickon watch, I’ll be alright, rest assured,” I whispered back, knowing that even if it did make me a little bit sad, watching people die did not fill me with any discomfort. Death made me sadder than the act of dying itself. 

“I wish you had looked away like I’d told you to during Oberyn’s trial,” he said after a few seconds, making me look up at him with surprise. 

“I couldn’t have looked away. I was the one who had gotten him into that situation, Tywin. And for what… all over some stupid boy,” I scoffed, still feeling the guilt as strongly as ever. 

“You protected your family. The second Joffrey got bored, Margaery would’ve become Sansa. It might’ve taken her awhile, but rest assured, Tommen is a far better match,” he said, rubbing my back gently. Nobody could tell underneath my cape. 

“Few people have truly scared me, but Oberyn was one of them. He told me he was going to poison you,” I said suddenly, recalling the conversation we’d had in the brothel. Tywin did not seem surprised by this.

“And what did you tell him in response?” He questioned casually. 

“I was speechless. He merely smiled and told me he wasn’t going to anymore, since I seemed so fond of you. It made me grateful I’d gone to speak with him, and that I’d managed to earn his respect. If he’d done it- if he’d- I don’t know what I would do,” I said, looking down at the snow beneath my boots. The thought of not being with Tywin scared me beyond words. He had become my purpose, and what does one do without purpose?

“I’m certainly glad you managed to earn his respect too, then.”

“You’ve saved my life before. It was only fair of me,” I said softly, smiling. Tywin did not reply, but was amused nonetheless.

I was too, until I heard the sound of the bodies dropping and struggling against the noose. I looked ahead, seeing the men squirming as they choked, and I watched the young boy’s face go purple as he did. 

I’d never been a fan of hangings. Better to cut off a man’s head, quick and clean. Though, several men among the crowd seemed pleased to watch this lot squirm, and it made me wonder what they possibly could’ve done, or attempted to do, to Jon Snow. 

Eventually, they began to still, and men stood to clear out. The show was over now. 

I looked up at Tywin, who I found glancing over at Arya. She showed no emotion on her face, and I had the odd impression that she’d seen plenty of death in her life. Perhaps she’d even caused some. 

“I don’t think you need to worry about her of all people, Tywin,” I said, snapping him from his thoughts. He scoffed.

“I’m not worried about her.”

“If you say so.”

A group of men walked by us, smiling at me with teeth that looked dirtier than the bottom of my boots. One of them whistled, and even despite being beside Tywin, I felt extremely uncomfortable. 

Tywin stepped forward a bit, pulling out his sword an inch or two. It was a warning, I knew. 

The men, being impossibly stupid, approached us. 

“Step away from us, men. I won’t repeat myself,” Tywin scowled, moving in front of me just a bit. 

“You want to have a go at it, old man? I think I’d rather have a go with the lady here,” the man said, laughing and looking around at his friends for a sort of validation. He then settled his eyes on me, looking me up and down, and I knew Tywin was furious. 

“You will not speak of her that way. If you’re smart, you’ll continue walking,” Tywin hissed, eyes lit with his distinct anger. The man was beginning to cower, clearly intimidated. Though still stupid, it seemed. 

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll carve your eyes from your fucking head,” he threatened, shocking even me. Tywin very seldom cursed, especially so extremely. I could recall only a few times I’d ever heard him say fuck, even during our most passionate nights, and it felt even more out of place with his anger. 

In a way, it was oddly erotic, and I suddenly had a very strong desire to watch Tywin slit the man’s throat. 

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately in my opinion, the men finally ran away with their tail between their legs. Tywin watched them go with distinct fury in his jaw and his eyes, only relaxing once my hands met his shoulders.

“Are you alright, my dear?” He asked, turning to face me and instantly letting his gloved hands cup my face. I brought my own hands to his stubble covered cheeks. 

“I’m perfectly fine, Tywin. More than fine,” I assured him, letting myself give in as he pulled me into his chest and placed one hand on the back of my head. It reminded me of the jousting incident during the tourney, and I was beginning to understand how he responded to dangerous situations. So far as I was involved, anyways. 

“I’ve never heard you speak to anybody that way,” I mentioned after a moment, not moving from my place against his chest. He was quite warm, and I most certainly was not. 

“I’ve never felt compelled to. Not in years, anyways. Not since I resigned as Aerys’ hand,” he revealed, stroking my hair. I realized then that I was shaking, and that the men had impacted me much more than I’d thought. Though I was certain I could’ve protected myself against them, Tywin’s protection was both welcome and comforting. 

“Are you certain you’re alright?” He asked softly, moving back a bit to look me in the eyes. He was always able to read my expressions.

“I’m safe, Tywin. Let’s rejoin the others, I want to see the top of the wall now,” I assured him, taking his hands in mine. He contemplated for a moment, and then nodded. With his arm around me, we met with the Starks, who were already caught up in a conversation.

“Robb tells me you’ve been getting good with Needle, Arya,” Jon said to his younger sister, hand on the top of her head. She smiled and nodded, eyes lit up at the mention of ‘needle.’ 

“Lady (Y/N)’s going to help me learn to use daggers, too,” she said, not seeing us just yet. The Lord Commander’s eyebrows lifted at that.

“Oh? I suppose I’ll have to have a dagger done for you then,” he said, smiling at Tywin and I as we joined the group. He was oddly happy for someone who’d just hung several men, but I suppose being able to see his family was rewarding enough. Loras and Margaery always managed to make me feel better in any case. 

“No need for that, Jon. I’ll have one made for her out of father’s sword,” Robb announced, to which Arya’s head snapped up in surprise. Her mouth fell open, and it made me smile. It reminded me of when I’d gotten my first real blade. And of when I’d gone to the smith with Tywin, whose arm I was currently holding sentimentally. 

“Out of Ice? But the sword is yours, Robb. I don’t-”

“Hush, Arya. It’s a big sword, there’s enough metal for a dagger. Might even make it easier for me to wield,” Robb said with a smile, making all of us laugh. Minus Tywin, of course, who only looked content. That was about as much as you could get out of him most of the time. 

“You’re going to have a hard time finding a smith who can meld valyrian steel, Robb,” Jon pointed out awkwardly, as if he didn’t want to ruin Arya’s current joy over the thought of such a weapon.

“There’s currently one in King's Landing. If you’d like, we can take the sword with us when we return. Give me the instructions and I’ll have the smith fix the weapon. You can claim it when you’re south for the wedding,” Tywin said suddenly, making everyone present fix their eyes upon him. His offer seemed to shock Robb.

“Wedding?” Jon questioned after a moment, eyebrows furrowed. I opened my mouth to speak, but Tywin beat me to it.

“I’m going to wed Lady (Y/N) in just a month and a half. You’re welcome to join your family if your position will permit it,” Tywin explained courteously, knowing that as Lord Commander, and as a man of the night’s watch in general, Jon Snow did in fact have restrictions. Jon’s face seemed to drop for a moment, but he covered it quickly and nodded.

“Thank you for the invitation, my lord.”

Robb spoke then,

“If it’s not a burden, Lord Tywin, it would be quite kind of you to take the sword with you. I’ve already got the design and instructions prepared, I can give them to you when we return to Winterfell.”

Tywin gave him a nod.

“Of course. Now, Lady (Y/N) desires to see the top of the wall. Shall we?” he suggested, motioning with his hand that we ought to go. Everyone murmured in agreement, and Rickon let out an excited giggle. I watched Jon lean toward his older brother.

“When we get back, Robb, I’ve got something I need to discuss with you. About- About my role in the night’s watch,” he whispered, though I barely heard it. I furrowed my eyebrows, but knew it was none of my business.

Our entire group was, thankfully, able to squeeze onto the elevator, but I could tell it made Tywin uncomfortable to be so tightly packed in with everyone else. To console him, I pressed myself closer to him than I actually needed to, and he evidently knew that or he wouldn’t have given me such a look. 

When we reached the top, I found myself pressing against him anyway in a desperate need for warmth, as the winds were strong up here. Not to mention, the air was far colder. 

Getting off of the elevator, we all hugged our cloaks especially tight, minus Jon Snow, who was quite used to the conditions. 

“Follow me. I’ll show you all the best spot,” Jon shouted, waving his hand just in case we hadn’t heard. It seemed Arya and Rickon had not heard, as they quite engaged in a conversation about archery. It made me smile, especially when I recalled what conversations with my brother had been like at her age. 

After walking for a little while, we found ourselves in an area that allowed us to see both sides of the wall, and I could not refrain from letting my mouth drop and eyes widen. 

I grabbed Tywin’s arm, practically in shock as I admired the view before us. Never before had I seen such a few, the pure snow covering the trees, which in turn densely populated hills and mountains. I felt as if I was floating in the sky like a god, looking down upon the earth’s finest creations. 

“Tywin, it’s beautiful,” I muttered, unable to pry my eyes away from the landscape. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend how such a scene could exist.

“Yes… beautiful.”

The way he said it struck me as odd, and I forced myself to look at him. When I did, I found that he was not staring out at the view, but at me. 

I recalled the day we’d gone hunting together and something similar had happened, and it filled me with an odd sense of warmth to know that even then he had felt at least something towards me. 

Tywin’s eyes held me captive in a way, and all I could focus on was the wind as it blew through his hair. It was incredible to me that such a handsome man could exist, and it gave me the odd desire to kiss him.

I refrained, of course, knowing Tywin was not one for such public displays of affection. The last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable, especially in front of Robb Stark. 

However, after a moment, one of his hands came to my waist, and the other came to my head. There, in front of the entire group, he kissed me. Well, the two children were busy looking out at the wall, but Jon Snow and Robb Stark certainly noticed us, and somehow I was proud to know that they did. 

Tywin had put aside his pride, kissing me so publicly and so passionately. I had let my hands come to his chest, and I had smiled when he’d done it. Despite all his faults, and despite perhaps being an insufferable cunt, Tywin was going to be my husband. And gods, was I glad for it. 

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[marcynomercy]

Happy holidays! It's your Secret Santa recipient! <3 Can I get Astarion/Tav with an extra large side of angst. Thank you!

TOOK TIME, BUT ARRIVED!! Again a thousand apologies for the delay, I decided to post without the drawing I was doing not to delay more. (when the drawing is ready I post and link with hc). Now please enjoy your reading.

You are free now.

Synopsis: Calamity and Astarion get closer between conversations and confidences, he discovers a little about her past and he comes trying to drag her back with chains.

Warning: Explicit violence, blood and SA measurements.

It was another calm night at the camp and Calamity was sitting by the fire leaning against the wooden log while hugging her knees, her eyes fixed on the flames and the tinkling of the embers. Her mind wandered in short and quick thoughts about everything that was happening. She stayed like that, until someone woke her up with a light cold touch that made her startle slightly.

“Relax, darling, it's me.” Calamity looked and saw her vampire companion with a superb smile on his lips, a bottle of wine in one hand. “How about a little distraction in the middle of this boring night?”

“It wouldn't be a bad idea. What do you have in mind?” Normally, she would deny or make any insinuation disguised as sarcasm, but tonight she was more inclined towards anything that would take her away from her own mind.

“You know.” Astarion sits on the log next to her, handing Calamity the cup and serving the wine immediately. “A little wine and a good conversation.Come on, don’t look at me like that!”  

The young woman narrowed her eyes, still suspicious, but with a heavy sigh leaving her lungs she gave up her probably well-founded suspicions about the elf.

“Okay…Where do we start?”

“Let's see... How about the beginning?”

“You want to know if I was a happy child, don’t you?” She chuckled in sarcasm as she took a sip of the wine.

“If you want.” He hummed in response.

Calamity thought a little and... Well, he had told her a little about his past so it was only fair to do the same.

“I don't remember everything about my childhood. One day I woke up somewhere near Baldur's Gate next to my brother, we didn't remember anything except our names and we assumed our parents were dead or abandoned us. So we started living on the streets of the city, my brother used to steal. Well,we lived like this until we were 16. Sometimes I sold flowers and other times I sang to get some gold. That day I stayed on the streets until night because I hadn't managed to sell all the flowers in my basket and that's when a man approached me…” Calamity shivered. “He said that he had already heard me singing and that he liked my voice and that he wanted me to sing more for him that night...

Astarion furrowed his eyebrows in disgust.

“AND? What happened?”

“An elf helped me, don't remember exactly what he said to that disgusting man, but it was enough for him to leave. I am a half-elf, and elves aren’t really fond of people like me, but he was so kind and I let my guard down and allowed him to accompany me. It was really fun and when I said “goodbye” I gave him the last flower I had as thanks.”

Something seemed strangely familiar to Astarion. And he remembered. A long time ago, he helped a girl in the same circumstances.”

“No fucking way. “It was you?”

“What?” Calamity looked at him, confused by his sudden reaction.

“The girl! Gods, that was 100 years ago, but I remember helping a girl because I felt compassion and…”

“No way…” Her eyes widened in disbelief and surprise. “Were you…”

They both remained silent for a while, both staring at each other in shock.

Astarion completely recovered the memory of that day in his mind. He was wandering the streets looking for victims, when by chance he saw that scene, a man full of wicked malice in his eyes cornering a scared girl. He was disgusted and furious, perhaps, because he saw his own tormentor reflected in that man and felt sorry for that child. Maybe he could do something good? No. He was going to take her to his Master, that's what he planned after “saving” her, but it made him feel horrible especially because she was so... kind.

And now here she was, all grown up and being his “target” again.

“Why did you help me?”

Astarion blinked, returning to reality. “I... Well, let's say, I just had a moment of “compassion.”

“And then?”

Shit... She already knew how he took poor souls to his Master, of course she would connect the dots.

“Don't look at me like that, dear, yes I thought it would be good to take you with me..., but I didn't.” Her look was uncertain, he couldn't decipher whether it was anger or hurt that she was feeling.  “But well, I didn't do that and it's in the past.”

“And yet here we are, drinking wine and talking in front of the fire 100 years later. How ironic.”  She mocked with a clearly fake smile on her lips as she turned the glass again. “Do you want to know something interesting?” She didn't look at him when she asked that question, but he was watching her.

Calamity stared at the flames intensely. Concentrated, as her mind wandered through memories of the past.

Astarion watched her while she was distracted by her own mind so he took the opportunity to analyze her better, her expression was that of someone lost. A person who was aimless, usually hopeless souls like her were such easy targets, all they want is a little compassion and comfort.

Some sweet and kind words... And they went down well, but strangely Calamity didn't seem like that kind of person. He still remembers how she retreated from his advances... How scared she looked at the slightest touch.

“Tell me…” He waited for the answer, while keeping his eyes fixed on her.

“The day after that night you helped me was when the Guild took us.”

He was speechless.

“How did this happen?”

“My brother killed a man to protect me, we ran away so he wouldn't be arrested and it was then that an elf who would be my “Master” approached us, he said he saw potential in my brother and that he would be of great value to His guild... That's how we were “recruited”, I didn't want my brother to go alone because this situation only happened because of me so it was only fair that I did the same.

Oh... That look he knew well.

“Darling... What exactly happened to you after that?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“They said they would train us, my brother was under the tutelage of an drow called Morana and I was under the tutelage of the elf who found us... The training was more like torture, I spent 6 years without seeing my brother, we were completely isolated and whenever I didn't obey he said that my brother would suffer for it.” She clenched  her fists. “At first it was just these psychological games and, of course, the infernal rigid training, but as I grew up things started to change... His manners changed and so did his touches... “Her breathing became heavier with each word as if the air was heavier. “Then…”

The parasite in his brain stirred, he felt that uncomfortable sensation and then their minds connected.

He saw Calamity on her knees against the ground facing a man who demanded submission.He demanded that she obey like a loyal “dog” she was, so he pulled a chain that was attached to the collar around her neck. She fell and was forced to crawl towards him, as soon as she got close enough he ordered her to open his pants and “relieve” him. She undid the ties of his pants and once his length was free she engulfed him with her mouth, sucking him skillfully as she was taught. The tightness of the collar made everything even more suffocating than it already was, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as she was forced to maintain eye contact with him.

She wanted to die.

This abuse would only end when he felt satisfied and when he finally shot her throat that session had not ended. The man ordered her to sit on his lap and so she obeyed, while keeping the collar around her neck tight to the point that it was difficult to breathe, he slid his hand up her thigh slowly and cruelly, she had no choice. Except to endure that horrible touch that would only end when he wanted.

The connection was broken and Astarion woke up from that vision, he didn't dare say because he already imagined what she went through.

“We never had regular sex” She said suddenly. “He had this strange and twisted obsession with me being a “virgin”, of course, that didn't stop him from finding other creative ways to fuck me.”

Astarion glanced at her, she had her face buried in her knees while his hands hugged her legs.

“I'm sorry…” Was all he could say, still with the vivid feeling of that memory in his own throat. “But you are free now. Can I... Get a little closer to you?”

“Yes…”

He sat next to her and was careful to silently ask for permission to touch her, Calamity just rested her head on Astarion's shoulder in response. He wrapped his arm around her back, hugging her gently to comfort her.

“In the end I made that night depressing.”

“Well, not so much, we still have wine to make things better".

She laughed and agreed with him, taking the glass she had left aside and drinking it completely, in complete silence they completely drank the bottle together.

“I remembered a better story, do you want to hear it to improve this atmosphere?”

“Darling, I'm all ears.”

  After that night Astarion began to hover around Calamity in a different way, he was softer and of course he never stopped teasing her or gracing her with his typical sarcasm..., but he was more protective in a certain way. When the party with the tieflings took place at the camp, to Astarion's surprise, it was she who suggested that they spend the night together, he accepted, but in the end the vampire didn't have the courage to sleep with her. Instead of a night of passion, they just had another conversation filled with wine and sincerity, he listened to her and supported her.

After that night their conversations became more frequent even when they left the camp, sometimes they were so random and other times they were something that only the two of them knew which left their companions intrigued. Once while walking Astarion asked if Calamity liked red ribbons when she questioned him confused, his response was:

“I saw you last night with your hair tied up with a red ribbon and I remembered that when I met you when you were a girl you were also wearing a red bow in your hair.”

She was very surprised that he had noticed this detail.

Now she was with Shadowheart doing a reconnaissance on the westernmost road near the mountain pass, they were checking if everything was safe since they were going to cross the next day. They decided to split into pairs, it was no surprise that Astarion was upset when it was decided that he would investigate further east with Karlach.

“So... You and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion what?”

“Don't be shy, it's impossible not to see how much closer you've become, he hovers around you like a shadow and your conversations are a bit intimate, I'd say. I see that the night you spent together was very pleasant.”

“You're very curious today, Shadowheart.” She joked, teasing her friend. Calamity and Shadowheart became very close as well, Shadowheart's appreciation and trust for her was clear.

“I'm just expressing my “interest” in what I see, I understand the appeal that it has, but be sure to be cautious.”

“ I appreciate your concern, Shadowheart.”  An exchange of sincere friendly smiles and the matter closed.

Everything seemed to be fine, but suddenly Calamity pushed her companion and got in front of her, it was so fast that Shadowheart could only understand what had happened when they both hid behind the rocks. The cleric saw the arrow stuck in the shoulder of her friend who had protected her without hesitation.

“Shit... Some bandits?” Shadowheart was ready to fight, but was stopped by her companion.

“Shadowheart, listen to me, I want you to get out of here and go after Karlach and Astarion while I hold them back... Understand?”

“ Are you crazy?! I won't leave you here alone!”

“I won't argue! They are not mere bandits... They are from my Guild.” The cleric swallowed hard upon hearing this. “It's a group of assassins who are after me, they won't kill me, but they will kill anyone who is with me. Just you and I won't take care of them, so please go after them and leave me here! I will buy time and in the worst case I will leave a trail for you to find me.”

“No! Are you really thinking about letting yourself be captured?!”

“GO FAST!! You are rational, Shadowheart, you know this is for the best.” The cleric wanted to disagree, but she knew that her companion had a shred of reason in this whole situation and had more knowledge and awareness of the dangers than she did. Even grudgingly, Shadowheart agreed, but before going she took the arrow from her companion's shoulder and handed her a healing potion.

“Hold tight! I'll be back soon.” Calamity just smiled and nodded and didn't look back as she went to face her former companions so her friend could escape.                                            

“Well, everything is clear here... Don't make that face fancy boy, we'll meet them soon.” Karlach joked when he saw how Astarion was grumbling with irritated looks.

“This is all a waste of time! Of course there's nothing around here, we killed those imposter paladins and there's been no sign of gnolls since we killed that bunch.”

“Come on, Astarion, stop complaining Soldier is just doing what she thinks is right so that we can all have a safe crossing.”

“I'm not complaining, just being realistic, it won't be from this side that any threat will come to our “happy group”.

“Gods, this is all because you just want to be close with Caly.”  He rolled his eyes as if that was the biggest nonsense ever said. “Oh come on, stop acting like that, you two have been a couple for a long time.”

Astarion was ready to protest when they saw Shadowheart running towards them in distress... And she was alone.

Immediately anxiety him and he ran to the half-elf.

“Where is Calamity?!” He asked impatiently, almost aggressively.

“She... She's in danger! She told me to come after you to ask for help…”

“AND YOU LEFT HER ALONE?!” He grabbed Shadowheart's shoulders in an aggressive grip and his red eyes glowed with anger.

“Hey, calm down! Shadowheart what exactly happened?”

“We don't have time for explanations! All you need to know is that we were attacked by a group from Calamity’s Guild and she stayed behind to buy time, we need to go help her!”

Astarion's blood boiled, he immediately ran in the direction the cleric came from and didn't listen to anything else. He ran as fast as he could hoping he wouldn't be too late, then he heard Calamity scream.

Soon he saw her fighting injured and alone against five other figures dressed in black, he did not hesitate to attack.

His blow was accurate, his target didn't even have the chance to understand what happened when he fell dead to the ground. Astarion tightened his grip on the handles of his daggers and when he turned his vision towards Calamity she was on the ground and the man in front of her picked up something and attached it to her neck... It was a collar.

“NO!! GET THIS OFF OF ME!! LET ME GO!!” Calamity screamed as She struggled to escape his captor's hands.

“Stop barking, bitch! Master wants you back.” The man dressed in black with his face covered by a hood grabbed the chain and pulled it violently. Astarion was furious to see that scene and set out to kill them all, Karlach and Shadowheart joining him.

“Hey, Fangs! We'll take care of them, go after the Soldier!” Karlach shouted while hitting one of them with her ax.

“You do not need to say another word!” He responded by throwing one of his daggers at another of those hooded men before running to catch up with his companion and her captor.

That scene drove him crazy with rage, seeing her struggling to free herself, struggling while that bastard grabbed her neck and suffocated her. He let himself be carried away by pure animalistic instinct and jumped at them, causing them to fall to the ground giving Calamity the chance to move away... But she didn't do it.

She was as overcome with anger as he was, Calamity climbed on top of her captor and bit him. Yes, she bit him, the man screamed in desperation, fighting, but it was in vain, she seemed to be twice as strong at that moment. She didn't have fangs like Astarion, but her teeth did as much damage as any fang. She sank her teeth into his flesh, chewed it and made blood flow. The man struggled until in a few moments he became motionless, inert and finally dead. When her mouth released the corpse's neck, the first thing she did was spit out the flesh and blood that were still in her mouth, she was all covered in blood, her mouth, body... Her previously braided hair was now a mess after all the fight, she remained on top of the body and Astarion saw everything, he watched the whole scene perplexed.

He was surprised by the way she acted, as wild as a bloodthirsty vampire and her eyes... Opaque, cold and distant as if she weren't there.

“Darling…” He called her and then the sparkle returned to her eyes as well as the panic.

“Take it away from me... Take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, TAKE IT OFF!!” She began to scream and desperately pull the collar around her neck, scratching her skin in panic.

Astarion noticed the runes carved into the metal around her neck and immediately grabbed her wrists holding her back, she continued to scream and struggle repeating the same line.

“Take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off, take it off TAKE IT OFF!!”

“Calamity look at me!” He held her more firmly. “Calm down, breathe... It's okay. It's over, they're dead.” She looked at him, still in panic, shaking and tears welling in her eyes.

“T-Take it off... Take it off my neck... It's suffocating, I can't breathe, please take it off. Astarion... Please, please, I beg you, take this away.” She begged in tears.

 “Caly... We'll get this out of you I promise, but you know it's under a spell and we don't want to risk it. Let's get out of here first, okay?” She agreed shakily and in tears.  “Shh, shh... It's okay, you did it. You are free.” He released her wrists and then hugged her, she returned the gesture in a strong burst of relief, still with her in his arms he carefully moved her, taking her off the corpse.

“Let's go to camp, I... well?”  He asked, looking at the long chain. “We don’t want this to drag on.” She nodded and then Astarion took the chain and rolled it up to get into her hands. “No one will have this in their hands except you from now on.”

She looked at him in surprise, tears still streaming from her eyes, but she thanked him silently, squeezing the chains in her hands. Astarion kissed her face and wiped away her tears with sweet, calm kisses.He put his  arm around her  back and legs to carry her, Calamity in turn didn't say anything, just rested her head on Astarion's shoulder and let him carry her. Soon Karlach and Shadowheart joined them and the group hurried back to camp.

When they arrived at the camp, Astarion didn't explain anything, he just walked past everyone and went towards Calamity's tent and let Karlach explain everything, Shadowheart followed them and waited for him to accommodate her.

“I'll take care of her…” She said calmly.

“Okay, I'll get some towels and water.” Astarion got up and left the tent, leaving them alone.

But before going to get what he had said he went to talk to Gale first, he talked about the runes and asked him to be on standby. The wizard didn't question it, he just agreed, the entire camp understood that it was something delicate and everyone mobilized on their own.

  Wyll and Lae’zel were in charge of making the rounds with Karlach, the others remained in the camp, but stayed alert. Halsin also showed her solidarity by preparing some medicine and tea so that Calamity would feel calmer and more relaxed, that was what she needed at the moment, calm and support. Astarion, after leaving the towels and water with Shadowheart, walked away but remained in sight.

 He was obviously worried and was still angry about what happened, he wanted to say that if they hadn't split up this wouldn't have happened... But now it wouldn't make any difference.

Time passed and then Shadowheart left the tent and walked towards Astarion.

“She wants to see you.” He looked at her in surprise, but agreed and walked towards Calamity's tent.

 He lifted the fabric from the entrance and saw her sitting there in her sleeping bag, she was clean with her wounds treated and seemed calmer. Calamity was still drinking the tea Halsin had made for her.

“How do you feel, my dear?” He sat next to her.

“As if I were anesthetized... I don't really know…” She lowered her gaze to look at her reflection in the tea in the mug in her hands.  “I wanted to thank you for everything…” 

“No need, dear, we agreed that we would take care of each other, remember? And... I'm sorry we haven't gotten that thing off your neck yet, but we will. Now don't worry about that. Can I brush your hair? Sorry Darling, Shadowheart did a great job cleaning you up, but your hair is still a mess.”  She laughed softly and agreed with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Make yourself comfortable, Astarion.” The elf took the hairbrush and little by little he combed and untangled the strands, carefully and delicately while she finished drinking her tea. “ Astarion... Could you come a little closer?” He complied with her request and was surprised by a kiss.

The kiss was calm, shy, but sweet. Very sweet and kind.

 “Darling, I would love more kisses like this in the future.”

THAT IS IT!! Thank you so much for reading and sorry for any grammatical errors… English is not my native language and I am still learning correctly. Soon I will post more HCs of Caly and her brother!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for potentially having been the reason why the relationship of two of my friends ended?

okay so i know this sounds bad, but i don’t think it’s my fault (at least not entirely).

so this happened 3 years ago almost. at the time, two of my best friends were dating each other. we were all part of a bigger friend group of like 6 people.

I’ll call those two friends who dated sam and jane. (fake names obviously)

The whole friend group was relatively new and only like half a year old when they started dating. i had only known sam for the time that friend group existed, so not very long by then. jane on the other hand, had been one of my best friends since we were both in kindergarten.

jane and i were around 16 then and sam was 15.

i had had a crush on jane for years at this point, but never told her because i always either thought she was straight (so she wouldn’t be into another girl aka she would never be into me) or because she was taken or because i just didn’t want to risk this long friendship ending.

but of info:

sam was (at the time) a cis guy. (sam is now questioning their gender but is leaning towards nonbinary transfem, but that was not yet the case during the time this story happened. so i will be using they/them pronouns for same obviously, but keep in mind that at the time, sam was a cis guy). before sam and jane got together, sam told me they had a crush on me but i rejected them.

jane (at the time) identified as bisexual.

the thing is, all of this happened during covid so sam and jane couldn’t see each other very often, but sometimes when the number of cases in our town went down, the restrictions were lifted. so one day, it was allowed to meet up in smaller groups again. so sam, jane, another friend and i spent the day together in town.

eventually that other friend had to leave because of something unrelated, so i was alone with the other two. sam and jane were in that stage of the relationship were they were very comfortable with each other and kinda already out of the “honeymoon” stage yk?

since i was very close to both of them separately, i didn’t feel like a third wheel there. it was a tiny bit awkward for me, because i did still have that crush on jane, but neither of them knew that.

we were all just kinda talking until the convo turned to like reminiscing about jane and my past since we’ve been friends very long and have been through a lot together. at some point, jane said that she has something to say that i might find weird.

obviously, this made me (and sam) very curious. jane laughed and then said that she used to have a huge crush on me, but was too shy to say that. i was admittedly not unhappy about that, so i told her that i too “used to” have a crush on her. (i lied a bit in the way that i said that was in the past when that crush very much was still there).

then i felt kinda bad, but before i could like backtrack (bc obviously i wasn’t trying to mess with their relationship), sam laughed and said that they wouldn’t mind if i joined their relationship. jane agreed and like kinda officially “invited me in.” (they were not in an open relationship, but apparently both their crushes on me were not so much in the past as i thought lol).

at first i thought that was a joke, but apparently they had kinda talked about that before and while it was spontaneous, it was definitely also a serious offer.

i was however still not into sam, and i didn’t think it was fair if i said yes without actually liking both of them back, so i rejected them awkwardly and went home not long after because i was totally not expecting that and just like totally startled me yk?

shortly after, like a few weeks, jane broke up with sam and said that she realized that she’s a lesbian because of “something that happened recently” and like. she never did say what it was, but one of our mutual friends who i had told about that situation from before, kept insinuating that i was involved in whatever situation jane meant. jane and sam themselves have never said anything like that to me and they are both still friends with each other (and with me, even if jane and i are more distant now).

so it’s very ambiguous if i really had anything to do with the end of their relationship, but that one mutual friend fully thinks that it was at least in part because of me. but like idk. so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[owlsbride]

One shot: Kakashi x Sakura.

Secret trainings lead to secret conversations to secret feelings, Will Sakura win this time?

You can't always win.

"This..." Sakura said, trying to catch her breath, "this has to stop, Sensei."

"What?" Kakashi asked in his dumbfounded bored tone, "What does have to stop, Sa Ku Ra?" he finished rising on his elbows, looking at Sakura from his position under her.

"Sensei, please," she was already sitting next to him, recovering some of her personal space lost moments ago, "you know what I'm talking about, and it has to stop."

"Sakura, let me remind you that you came to me asking for this. I only please your wishes." A close-eyed smile was painted under his mask, and Sakura hated that idiot expression.

"Oh, come on, Kakashi, don't tell me you don't enjoy it too." She was again losing the train of the conversation, and she knew she would lose her point too.

"I've never said I didn't; on the contrary..." Kakashi said, lifting his chin in a very arrogant Hokage way, "but is you the one complaining and asking me to stop what you asked for."

"Because it's unfair!" Sakura pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ok... Now I'm not following you." Kakashi said, looking straight at her.

"You are impossible, Sensei..." Sakura spoke, looking tenderly at him. "It's unfair that every single night we train you let me win." There, she finally said it.

"Oooh..." Kakashi said, full of surprise, "Wow... Do you...Do you really think I let you win?"

"Yes, I do!" Sakura said, looking at the sky. To look at him at this moment was too hurtful because she was not only feeling frustrated about her skills but because she wasn't capable of making him see her as a woman who was hopelessly in love with her former teacher.

Sakura had to recognise that it was true that she never told him anything nor made any insinuation about her feelings. Even if, with time, they became close friends and shared a special kind of intimate relationship, nothing seemed to evolve into a romantic dynamic between them, and she felt that it was all her fault.

"Maaa~ Sakura, you can't think that I let you win." He seemed confused, caught off guard, like a little boy discovered doing some mischieve, disarming Sakura to her bones.

"Yes!" She began making eye contact for the first time in what seemed a lifetime.

"Ok, tell me, how do I do it, how do I let you win?"

"Let's seee..." Sakura started, "First you are the great Copy Ninja..."

"Ex." Sakura was sure he would make this problematic.

"Ok, ex, but you know, like thousands of jutsus, you mastered the Sharingan, and you are not even an Uchiha. You are the Hokage, you have years of training and fights, and were a prodigy. And your name is like a dead sentence to our enemies."

"That's all in the past, Sakura. You are talking about ages ago." Kakashi said with longing in his eyes.

"Ok, but what about now? Ah?" Sakura attacked again, "I do your medical exams, and you are more vital than ever for the results. Without the Sharingan draining your Chakra, you are stronger, faster and more robust than any young shinobi."

"I guess what you mean by robust is fatter, right?" How was he capable of making her blush like when she was thirteen.

"Sensei!"

"Easy... If I din't know you better I could say you are in love." And again, that infamous smile.

"What? No... I mean..." She was in serious trouble now and was giving away too much about her feelings in a conversation that was supposed to have nothing to do with feelings.

"Sakura..." Kakashi began turning serious again, "why can't you praise yourself for once? Suppose everything you said is true, but I'm not in my twenties anymore, and you are not thirteen, either." Was he noticing her? "You are a young woman full of strength with the same training I once had. You are Tsunade's direct disciple. Your chakra control is outstanding. You are a great doctor. I really don't understand how you can doubt so much about yourself." He looked so intensely into her eyes that she felt like flying or dying. What if she kissed him right there?

Would it be that bad if she kissed Kakashi? Of course, it was out of all limits and boundaries. He was not only the Hokage, but for God's sake, he was him, Hatake Kakashi, and she was just she, after all, the always tiny and invisible Sakura. She was abandoning the conversation once more. Daydreaming about the possibilities of one little forbidden kiss, not realising that, in truth, she was bothered about not losing a training fight combat against Kakashi, which was very ridiculous. He was right. Instead of being proud of herself, she felt her victories as undeserved gifts.

"Sakura... Sakura?" Kakashi said, waving his hand in front of her face. "Are you still here?"

"I'm sorry, what...What were you saying?" Sakura returned to reality and had to remind herself that she was not thirteen anymore.

"I was saying that everything you say about me it's true, and even if it hurts, losing the Sharingan maybe it was a kind of a blessing, but you are the new generation now, and you are better than anyone of us, the old ones."

"Do you really think that, Sensei?" Sakura knew her voice was trembling, and she didn't care. "So you don't cheat on me and let me win?"

"Sakura... I thought you know me better by now..." Kakashi said in his beautiful soft tone, and Sakura was melting right there, "I hate losing. I wouldn't even do it on pourpuse."

"Oh... Ok." She didn't manage to say anything else.

"Besides, as Hokage if I have to put my life in somebody's hands, undoubtedly it would be yours," Sakura noted the soft movement but did nothing about it. Kakashi was tugging a revel strand of pink hair behind her ear. "I bet not even Naruto or Sasuke are competition against you."

"Yeah... them..." She let the phrase hang in the air.

"What about them?" His neutral tone suddenly sounded overly uninterested, even for Kakashi.

And Sakura knew that that was the question, 'what about them'. Especially about Sasuke Uchiha. But should she tell Kakashi her feelings? The truth was that she was spending more and more time with Sasuke, but nothing was coming out of it. Once, it used to be her teenage dream, but now it was her adult nightmare, it was obvious that they were not meant to be, but they were forcing this kind of frozen relationship in which they only walked together for hours in silence without even holding hands.

"Well..."Sakura started looking anywhere but in Kakashi's direction, "you know Naruto, he is doing it fine. He is thrilled with Hinata, I think there is a future there..." Sakura spoke with truth and hope in her words. She loved Naruto and his bright, and she knew he deserved his happy ending.

"Yes, I see that too." Kakashi said with what Sakura understood as longing, but he immediately shifted his position, and everything in him changed, "and Sasuke? I heard you two were dating."

Sakura choked on her words.

"You don't need to answer me, Sa Ku Ra. I just want to be prepared if a Chidori comes flying straight to me if he discovered our little secret." Kakashi joked, and she blushed as if secret training was the equal of a sin.

"I don't think the Chidori is his worst attack right now." She smugly answered.

"Yeah... I thought so." And he didn't say anything else.

The soft summer breeze was hypnotic during the summers in Konoha. Even if it was hot enough, like to swear once or twice, the weather was enjoyable, even more if Sakura was seated by night side by side with his secret love, Hatake Kakashi. Even now, that losing a battle was not the worst thing, but speaking about Sasuke was.

"We..." she started, "We are not dating dating, Sensei."

"What do you mean with dating dating? I'm older than you but not that much, Sakura... I don't think things had changed so much since..." But She interrupted him.

"Don't play smart with me, Sensei," Sakura said exasperated, "I mean that we are not... together, like, you know...like..." she was biting her lower lip to the point of almost bleeding. "We are only knowing each other."

"Don't you already know each other a lot?" Kakashi was doing this so on purpose that it almost felt innocent, but she knew better: pestering her was one of his favourite things.

"Of course we know each other a lot..." It was becoming impossible for her to speak. Where were all her eloquent words when she needed them the most?

"We know as comarades, as friends, as team mates, even as enemies, but..."

"But love and romance are something completely different, right?" And for the first time in a while, she observed his face trying to avoid thinking in the moon reflected in his eyes. "I mean..." He continued, "relationships are something else."

Sakura didn't answer. She only sighed in frustration, wrinkling her nose and forehead like she did when trying to solve something. Sasuke was a puzzle, she was a puzzle, for the love of God, they were a puzzle, and she wasn't even trying half her best to do something about it.

"Sakura?" Kakashi asked in a whisper. "Do you love him?"

"Of course I care for him, Sensei! Why? Why are you laughing at me?" Sakura was already towering over Kakashi, still sitting easily on the fresh green grass. Arms crossed over her chest, angry red face and her foot tapping the floor beneath her.

"Did you hear my question, Sakura? Smile in his voice.

"Yes, and I answered you." Sakura replied stubbornly.

"Yeah... I think you need another round."

And in just one soft movement, Sakura was pinned to the grass below Kakashi's body. Arms over her head entangled painfully delighted with his. Too close to avoid his eyes and cologne but too far and questionable to madly kiss him there. Kakashi got closer to her. His mouth to her ear and the soft fabric of his mask over her neck drove her crazy.

"Care is not love, Sa Ku Ra." He began teasingly, "I didn't think I have to teach you that." And he went back to look into her eyes. "And you were right... You can't always win."

"What?" She retorted, to what statement she didn't know.

"Ma~ Sa Ku Ra! You were right... Maybe sometimes I just let you win."

And in a puff of air, he disappeared, letting Sakura lying down on the grass with her heart beating uncontrollably out of her chest. She was mad. Mad about being cheated, mad about her and Sasuke, mad about her lack of answers and most of all, she was profoundly and crazy mad about Kakashi.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi! reading the tag for IWTV spoilers to get ready for Ep5 and yeah, it seems like heavy shit and some people say it's OOC for Lestat, my question is just.... are we still supposed to view that episode of their lives via CLaudia's POV and diaries? The SA, how Lestat is shown as an unredeemable detestable monster as motives to both her and Louis' future retaliation (as per the book)?

Mhhhhh. PERSONALLY I actually do not think it is OOC for Lestat.

He and Louis fight, physically, in the books. And he is much stronger. And the way he snaps… and what he does… all instances from the books.

I think that yes, it’s supposed to be mostly Claudia‘s view here yes. Which makes it interesting that she recalls him this harsh… but also hears him beg Louis to -redacted-. An interesting contradiction, and very much in line of previous re-questioning of recollection and mindset.

I could have done without the insinuation (?) of the SA, there were other ways but it’s… there is this moment that I adore from a storytelling perspective in regards to Lestat’s past.

It’s a heavy episode, setting up the end of this season.

All in all very well done, despite it all, especially the acting. Happy to go into details in DM if you want.

[theconsofrom-coms]

R*pe Culture in Romantic Comedies

The topic of SA is one that is very triggering so if you have issues with it, please don't continue reading as I will be detailing moments in which SA was mentioned, and sometimes made fun of in multiple romantic comedies.

I don't think we need to explain why it is that this topic in particular is something deplorable. SA is something that is sadly taken lightly, and sometimes even overlooked in rom-coms as a passing reference or just an insinuation, but there have been moments where it played a role in the main couple's relationship. As I will continue to explain as we go forward in these analysis.

We will be looking into "Sixteen Candles", "Revenge of the Nerds" and "Wedding Crashers" when discussing the presence of SA in romantic comedies, and how it has changed over the years.

Sixteen Candles, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?

Unlike past analysis I will explicitly focus on the details of the film pertaining to r*pe culture that are presented in the film. So, the main character of the film is Sam, a girl whose 16th birthday seems to have been forgotten by everyone, and while she is being pursued by a freshman named Ted, she is really interested in a popular guy named Jake. Now, Jake is also somewhat interested in Sam as he has seen her staring at him in the past, and he has begun to become tired of his girlfriend Caroline's partying. Now, here comes the not so fun part, after a party being held at Jake's house is done, he and his friends convince Ted to drive her home on Jake's dad's expensive car, her already being passed out from being completely drunk. Jake and his friends also imply that Caroline being passed out, she wouldn't know the difference if Ted attempted to sleep with her while she's passed out. This is absolutely inconceivable as to why they would think this is an ok thing to do.

This film is set in the 1980s, and as many of us are aware of, the respect given to young girls and women by men is very much skewed when it comparison to our norms of respect in the 21st century. Such an act as date-r*ape, as it is referred to nowadays, was most likely seen as completely fine, even though such an act is completely disrespectful to the woman that this is committed to, and a complete violation of her rights as a human being. And while the act was not actually committed in the movie, Ted still attempted to pose a picture with Caroline, making it seem as though they had actually slept together in the car, but the picture didn't come out right. I guess that's karma for you.

Revenge of the Nerds, tricking a girl into sleeping with me!

Another film set in the 80s, this one involves a bit more "action" if you know what I mean. So in the film, beside the fact that the main characters of the movie sell naked pictures of girls, without their consent, as charity; Our main character, Lewis, has fallen for one of the girl's pictured, Betty. She's already dating a guy named Stan, so Lewis steals a costume being worn by Stan and tricks Betty into believing he is her boyfriend, and they end up sleeping together. By the end of the act, he reveals himself to her, at which point she calls him "wonderful" as apparently the hookup wasn't unpleasant, but it is more complicated than that. Lewis tricked Betty into sleeping with him under false pretenses, while yes, the act was consensual, Betty believed that the guy she was sleeping with was her boyfriend, not some random guy she doesn't know so well.

This scene has gotten backlash in some recent times due to the fact that this scene could be considered rape, as Betty was manipulated into sleeping with a guy who ended up lying to her about his identity. If this were a real case, it could easily be considered r*ape, as not all stipulations were abided by when it came to consent on behalf of Betty. And while many people claim that they didn't consider it to be a rape scene at the time of the film's release, both filmmakers and actors do believe it to be an unfortunate scene, and if the movie was made in current times, that definitely wouldn't have gotten past critics.

Wedding Crashers, if it involves homosexual SA, it's funny, right?

Here we go, the final film of this individual post. Wedding Crashers, a movie about two guys that take advantage of the way women feel when in weddings, and find a way to get in their pants. Besides the questionable morality of these actions, there is one scene in particular that comes to mind when it comes to the disrespectful one is to feel when watching this movie. After John and Jeremy crash another wedding where the latter slept with a woman named Gloria, who soon becomes obsessed with him, they both get invited to a retreat with Gloria's family, to which John accepts on behalf of them both in order to get closer to Gloria's sister Claire. During the night, Jeremy is sexually harassed by Gloria's brother Todd, entering his bedroom and being "suggestive" towards him. And we're supposed to think that that is funny?

There is nothing I find more disrespectful than when something that would be wrong if specific genders took certain roles, is funny or ok because the roles are reversed, such as SA, sexual harassment, parent-student relationships, etc. So we're supposed to think that this instance of sexual harassment is funny because the perpetrator is a gay man, really? And this movie came out in the early 2000s, one would think that our mindset would be a bit more progressive by that point.

And so, that is all I have to say in respect to R*pe Culture in romantic comedies.

I'll be back soon with our next topic, what will it be?

I wonder...

[creamcoffeelou]

I’ve been tagged so many times to do a sunday snippet I’m so sorry to everyone that tags me in those and I don’t do them....but here’s one! 1960s revenge/dark plot that most likely will never get finished

Content warning: dark!au read tags!

____

Clouds of smoke hung thick in the air, stagnant and stale between gusts of air from the rarely opened door. A record spun soundlessly from the left of the bar, the DJ having abandoned his booth to use the toilet only leaving the loud ruckus of the men playing pool and talking too loud from the farthest corner of the bar. 

The sign on the outside of the door read gentleman’s club, but he’d heard the whispers of the men on the street that this is where men with eyes for other men found themselves in the evening. He’d heard it hushed first, stacked between whispers of sin, only until the gentleman he’d been speaking with had realized he didn’t have a wife. 

“Nothing wrong with a queer, son” He’d said, “We just don’t take well to the type that leave their wives at home alone to frequent them clubs,” one of the men he’d had the conversation with had cut in from across the bar, lips cracked from the smoke of his cigarette. 

He wondered how many of the men that found themselves through the seedy doors of the club did leave their wives behind to see the barely-legal boys that danced in heels and dresses on the stage. 

Those hushed conversations were how he found himself at the farthest end of the bar at Crimson Rose. 

“Blondie at the end of the bar bought you a drink,” The bartender said with a gravelly, long-term smoker’s voice at a break in the thumping of the music. He’d been barely there all evening, only floating around when his coke had been empty for several minutes. Louis couldn’t blame him, really. He knew drunks tipped better. 

“Can you make it virgin? Charge him full price if you like, he doesn’t look the type to tip well.” That got a laugh from the man, but he just moved wordlessly to make his drink. 

As soon as the glass was placed in front of him the man at the edge of the bar moved to the seat beside him. He smelled like stale cigarettes and rum. All Louis could do was smile to keep himself from turning his nose up. 

“You’re not from around here.”

“I’m just passing through town.” He smiled, turning in his seat to completely face the man opposite him. “I’ll be honest, I’m not really about the small talk. Do you want to get a room tonight?” 

He ran a hand through his hair and ran his tongue over his teeth, waiting. 

“You’re sure?” He said next. Louis quirked an eyebrow and nodded. 

“I’ll be outside. Meet me out there once you’ve paid both of our tabs.” He ran a hand down the bare skin of the man’s arm, with a playful smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

He left, then, walking outside with quiet steps. 

He stood outside for barely ten minutes before the man joined him, a hand on his hip. “Let’s go.” 

He hailed a cab from the corner as the man kept a firm hand around his waist. 

It was a silent ride to the hotel room, the silence filled with the empty promise of a night to remember. 

Louis wasn’t sure what the other end of that night looked like. Whether the man beside him had a wife, a family, a job. He didn’t really care. Those weren’t the thoughts filling his mind as he sat beside a face that felt too familiar.  

It didn’t matter, really. 

The cab ride was quiet. Each of them stayed on their respective sides of the seats, silence heavy between them as the eight track cassette that the driver had restarted after it finished. 

The hotel was closer than Louis thought it would have been and they made their way inside too fast. 

The elevator and the room key and everything felt like a blur of moments that Louis could barely focus on. All he could bring himself to focus on was the bag that hung around his shoulder. 

And yet, as soon as they were inside Louis’ mind felt hyper-focused. 

Kissing the man who’s name he didn’t care to remember felt wrong. 

Every part of him wanted to reject it, and yet he stayed. Let him touch him as he peeled off pieces of clothes that weren’t meant to come off. 

The room he’d booked was a full suite; a living room and a bedroom. The TV was on, playing some news anchor who droned on in the background the Louis was more interested in than the lips pressed against his own. 

“Let me make you a drink. Then we can go to bed.” 

“Oh that’s alright –“ Tension spread through the man’s muscles all at once as he leaned forward, body following Louis’ movements as he moved from his lap to pad across the floor. 

“We’re in no rush, right?” He bit his lip with a gentle smile, eyebrows raised just slightly. “We have all night, right?” He watched with wide eyes as his body language relaxed, body falling back to rest in his chair once again. Louis doubted he even realized how much he told with his movements, the story radiating off of him in full phrases as Louis watched him. 

He mixed the drink with his finger as he walked, sucking the tequila off of it with hollowed cheeks as he let his eyes rake over the man in front of him. Tasteless, scentless. 

Clean and easy. 

He planted himself back onto his lap as he pressed the glass into his hand. 

He took one drink, then two. Pausing between each to rake his eyes up and down the expanse of Louis’ exposed skin. 

Minutes passed. He sipped at his own soda, watching as the redness in the cheeks of the man across him deepened. 

“You remember me, right?” Louis asked, running his tongue over his teeth. The smile fell from his face as Louis wrapped the lace of his robe tighter around his body. 

“What?” 

“Let me give you a little reminder. I was sixteen and you were at a party with some of your,” He paused, grimacing, “Friends.” 

A flash of recognition swept over his face all at once and Louis smiled with a closed mouth. It wasn’t forced for the first time throughout the entire night, and that sent some sort of twisted satisfaction up Louis’ spine. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, such a shame. Because I think you do,” Louis teased, a small smile spreading over his face.  

He was certain that the man in front of him knew exactly what he was talking about, without so much as a doubt in his mind. He’d been one of the five men that had ruined his life, and he wanted nothing other than the revenge he knew he rightly deserved. 

He stood there for a moment once the movements stopped. 

The silence felt too loud. Deafening. Yet it quieted some of the ruckus inside of his head. Not all of it, not enough of it, but some, and that was the start that Louis knew he needed. 

He ran his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing out some of the wrinkles there. Then he took a last glance at the animal, finally in hell where he belonged, on the ground in front of him. A smile spread over his face as he walked out of the motel doors, peace resting on his shoulders instead of the burden of his past. 

--

Morning came much too fast. 

He felt rested but his eyes felt heavy as he nursed the cup of coffee that his waitress refilled graciously without nicety or small talk. He leaned himself over the counter, guarding the coffee with tired eyes and a sore body. 

A body took the seat next to him and his eyes darted over. Too many rings on long fingers caught the glimmer of early morning light cast from the window, attached to pale hands. 

“Whole bars open, you know.” He said first, straightening out his hunched back as he glanced over. 

“You took something from me, and I’d like to know why, exactly.” 

“Afraid you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m just passing through town.” 

“Well ain’t that something. I could have sworn your name was Louis Tomlinson, and last night you murdered Samson Trell.” 

He stiffened, back straight as he finally looked clearly at the man that sat beside him. The entire diner had cleared out, his eyes darting from table to table where he knew people had sat just minutes before. His eyes raked over him then, surveying the crisp press of his gray suit coat that matched the hat that sat on the counter just beside him. 

“You writin’ a book or something, or are you gonna let me enjoy my coffee in peace?” 

“I’d like it if you answered my question, actually.”

“Didn’t hear a question there.” 

“Did you murder Mr. Trell?” 

“No, I did not.” In his mind, it wasn’t a lie. What he did wasn’t murder – just revenge in the only form he could ever see it taking. The man beside him hummed, but he didn’t sound convinced. “You seem to know my name. Mind if I get yours?” 

“I do mind, actually. Now, I’d like it if you told me the truth.” His green eyes seemed to glow brighter in the morning sunlight, flakes of brown and gold swimming in too-big irises, but they felt darker as he shifted his shoulders, revealing the gun tucked into the seam of his pants. 

“You a cop?” He didn’t get an answer, instead just a lifted eyebrow and a slight frown. “I didn’t murder anybody.” 

“See, now I gave you two chances,” The man said with a perfectly straight toothed smile that felt genuine yet somehow still sent a chill down Louis’ spine. “You’re gonna tell me the truth this time, or I’m going to kill you.” 

A different kind of dread seeped down into Louis’ stomach at that moment, eyebrows drawing down with slightly parted lips. 

“When I tell you that I did, are you going to shoot me anyway?” 

“Depends on how good of an explanation you have for why.”

He grit his teeth, sighing on an exhale. “He,” A pause, “He hurt me. Three years ago. Took me this long to find him and get to him.” There was a pause between them, then. He felt the other man’s eyes raking over him, an imaginary heat radiating against his skin where he looked at him even if his gaze looked neutral. “I didn’t murder anybody. He got what was comin’ to him and if you wanna kill me for that then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Louis just looked at him, trying to hold the same intensity of his gaze even over the pounding of his heart. 

“I’m not going to kill you, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you took something that belonged to me.”

“I certainly wasn’t aware that he belonged to anyone,” Louis scoffed. “I’m not sure what you’re playing at here, but why don’t you leave me be? I’m just trying to have my breakfast so I can leave town and you can forget all about me.” 

“Well, darling, if I just forgave every debt I was owed, what kind of businessman would I be?” 

“Do you always draw everything out so much? Can you just get to the point? Good Christ.” 

“Well Mr. Tomlinson, since it seems you’d like me to be blunt, you’re going to replace Mr. Trell. You won’t be taking his job, specifically, but from now on you’ll answer to me. In return, I won’t kill you.” 

“If I say no?” 

“I don’t take you to be that stupid.” 

“I don’t take well to being given an ultimatum.” Louis raised an eyebrow, frowning. “And you haven’t even so much as told me your name.” 

“You can know my name once I know your answer.” 

“Between the choices of dying and answering to you, I’ll obviously join the latter.” 

He finally got a smile from the man across him who stood, replacing the hat on top of his head after setting a five-dollar bill onto the counter. He reached out a hand with confident movements and Louis found himself standing, too, motions coming before the thoughts felt solid in his head. He considered himself a master at reading people, yet he drew a blank with this man. All he could do was meet his hand and shake it, his grip firm and solid and the rings cold against his fingers. 

“My name is Harry Styles. Let’s take a walk.” 

[yelenasdiary]

If possible could you do a Yelena belova x wife reader where Yelena and reader are extremely feared Vigilantes and when their home gets raided by agents and reader gets shot during their escape and almost dies and Yelena has to get reader to a doctor that they have in their pocket and then Yelena goes after the agents that shot reader

Doing Our Job

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

Summary: The Belova’s are extremely feared vigilantes; people go to them when Justice in the law system just isn’t enough. Working from the dark web and staying out of sight, the rest of world see them as a normal marriage couple, until…

Angst & Fluff | 2.1K | Mentions of blood, violence & weapons | Language warning | Child SA insinuated, no details! |

Translation: malyshka (baby girl), dorogoy (darling)

AC: I have switched this request up just a little, I hope you enjoy it!

It was a late Thursday night, you and your wife, Yelena have been nonstop busy for the past 2 weeks doing what you both call your own justice system. You had your left arm rested comfortably across Yelena’s waist while she sat up with her back rested on the headboard, her left arm draped over you as you both read through the emails of endless job offers from people all over the country. People came to you and Yelena when the justice system failed them or when dangerous people are released from prison and don’t deserve a second chance at life. 

You both had thousands of people who praised the work you did, people paid in gifts rather than money. You both agreed that you couldn’t put a price on the sadness and trauma these people have endured. Many times, have you caught up to a target only to have them whimper at your feet, begging for mercy while crying with endless and meaningless apologises. It made you and Yelena chuckle at how quickly the tables have turned and now they were the victim and begging for their life, scared and powerless. Before ending their life’s, you and Yelena would remind them of how their victims must’ve felt while in the hands of such darkness. 

Yelena mumbled something in disgusts while you attention drifted from the emails on Yelena’s laptop to the television that played your favourite show in the background.

“What’s wrong baby?” you looked up at her. She chewed her bottom lip with her brows frowned. “This sick bastard” she mumbled once more as she read through the email. “Let me see” you shifted to be able to read the email. It wasn’t highly detailed, but it gave you and Yelena more than enough information that the man mentioned countless times deserved what was to come to him. 

“That poor little girl” you shook your head lightly as you finished the email, light tears filled your eyes. Yelena kissed your temple, “Looks like we’re off to Texas in the morning” she spoke. You nodded before wiping your eyes. “I need a moment” you slowly got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. 

You and Yelena have been doing this for many years and nothing could ever prepare you for what those emails behold. Yelena was training to not let her emotions get in the way and so she’s always had a better way of handling of what she sees. 

When you returned from the bathroom, splashing some cold water over your face, you got back into bed and cuddled up to your wife once again. “Are you okay malyshka?” she asked, putting her laptop on the bedside before and wrapping both her arms around you tightly. Nodding at her question, “I’ll never understand how people can be so fucking cruel” you frowned. Yelena held you a little tighter, “I know, but this is why do this” she kissed the top of your head. 

The two of you stayed in that position, just being close to one another as you felt a slumber taking its toll on you. Yelena traced random patterns on parts of your exposed skin. Suddenly there was a loud bang like noise downstairs, the two of you quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed your handguns from the bedside tables. 

“FBI COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!” a voice called loudly from downstairs. 

You looked to Yelena with a soft smirk, “After you, baby” she winked before opening the bedroom door quietly and slowly. “How polite” you replied. 

Of course, you were both prepared for something like this, the escape route to the garage started in the spare bedroom behind a bookcase, a slight slide down to the garage and a quick getaway in the shared car. 

Before you could quietly sneak down to the spare room, 3 agents came crashing onto the top floor through the window. 

“Yelena Belova and Y/n Belova, it’s over!” the agent downstairs called. 

Yelena could see the shadows of the agent’s feet coming towards the bedroom, she looked to you and whispered, “I’ll cover your, stay low and go on my call”. You nodded quickly and got into position. Yelena turned the safety off on her gun and stepped out of the room, shooting two of the agents between the eyes before quickly covering herself in the bedroom again, “just one more” she looked back at you. 

Once Yelena took out the 3rd agent, the ones downstairs where quickly making their way up the stairs, their larger guns ready. “Go!” Yelena said when she got a glance of the other agents. With that, you crouched slightly and quickly started making your way down the hall. 

“Y/N STOP!” Yelena heard an agent call before hearing a loud gunshot run through her ears. She peeped her head out of the bedroom and saw you lying on the floor, holding your wound. Yelena’s eyes darted for the agents as they made the last few steps up the stairs, she fired before throwing her gun to the floor and grabbing her backup from the top drawer of the dresser. 

“Yelena don’t do this! She needs medical attention!” the same agent called, his other agents backing away under his orders. “Come on Yelena, you know what the right thing to do is!” he spoke again. 

“We’ve been doing that!” Yelena called before throwing a smoke bomb over the stair railing. Waiting the long 4 seconds for it to go off before rushing to your aid. 

“Stay with me baby” she scooped you up. The agents downstairs using their flashlights to try and see through the thick clouds of smoke. “Find them!” the agent yelled as Yelena was able to get the two of you to the spare room, quietly closing the door and placing you on the bed. “Just a little longer baby” she said before activating the bookcase to open. 

“Y-Yelena” you stuttered, “g-go” you added. 

“No baby, not without you” she scooped you up again. Blood covered your hand as you tried your best to apply pressure, Yelena’s night ware now also covered in blood. It was tricky but Yelena managed to get you both down the slide like escape and into the garage, unlocking the back door of the car and gently laying you on the back seat. You grunted in pain as blood now covered the backseat. 

Yelena didn’t wait for the garage door to finish opening before she was already speeding down the street, keeping an eye on you from the review mirror. Anytime your eyes started to drift to a close she’d speak up, “Y/n, dorogoy, keep your eyes open for me”. 

You needed a doctor and fast but Yelena knew she couldn’t take you to the hospital so she took you to the one person she knew could help, Melina. She took the backroads at high speeds to avoid highway patrols, Alexei stressfully waiting for you and Yelena to pull up. 

He helped Yelena carry you inside and onto the kitchen counter when Melina was waiting. 

“What the hell happened?” she scoffed. “Don’t worry about that, just help her! Please” 

Melina could see the destress and worry in Yelena’s eyes, only giving her a nod “I’ll do my best” she replies before Yelena is rushing back out the door and into her car. 

----

Yelena sat outside the FBI building for the whole night, watching agents come and go. She paid attention to any of those who had small neck tattoos. The image of the agent who shot you burnt into her mind, the small rose like tattoo on his neck enraged her. She waited for hours, Alexei texted her updates on you and how you were doing. Yelena knew she’d be no help waiting at Melina’s for news, this is what she was driven too. Revenge on the agent who shot you. 

Night fall came, Yelena was still watching the office from a far. Agent after Agent, suit after suit, car after car and finally the man she’d been waiting for left the building. Yelena waited for him to drive out of the car park before she followed him from a good distance. Rage built up within her when Alexei called to tell her you’d lost a lot of blood and now it was just a waiting game to see how you’d recover. Melina stressed to Yelena that you weren’t out of the woods yet; things could still take a turn for the worse. 

Yelena followed the agent to a park that was only lit by dimmed streetlights, she knew then he’d noticed her following him. He stepped out of his car and looked at Yelena, his gun tucked into his holster on his hip.

“What are you doing Yelena?” he asked sternly as she got out of her car, “You know I have to take you in” he adds. “Shut up” she spat as she walked closer to him, “you shot her” she pulled her gun. “I was just doing my job! You both had plenty of warning and were told to come out with your hands up!” he also pulled his gun, “You guys can’t seriously believe what you do is for the good?”

“Don’t talk to me about that you don’t know! If the justice system did their job properly then we wouldn’t be doing this” 

“We follow the rules that we’ve been given! We can’t go against that; I know how mad you are! There are some fucked up people out there, but you and Y/n can’t go around picking them off like this”

“Don’t you dare say her name!” Yelena stepped a few steps closer. 

“Where is Yelena, we checked the hospitals, and she wasn’t checked in. I can help you, I can help her” 

“She’s fine!” 

“Then what are you doing here? Why did you follow me huh?” 

“I’m just doing my job” she replied and shot a bullet into the agent’s foot causing him to drop his gun and drop to the cold ground. “You crazy bitch! You just shot me in the foot!” he yelled. Yelena kicked his gun away from his reach and pointed her gun back at him. “Sorry, my finger slipped” she coldly smirked, “you can’t run forever! We will arrest you both” he rocked back and forth in pain. 

“You’re talking too much, shut up” Yelena mumbled and shot at his other foot. 

“Fuck!!” he cried. 

“Now, you’re going to come with me and we’re going to wait”

“Wait for what you fucking bitch!?” he held both of his feet in pain. 

“If she dies, you die. If she lives, I’ll go easy on you” Yelena replied, “now stop crying and give me your hand cuffs” she demanded. 

The agent shakingly threw his cuffs towards Yelena’s feet. She cuffed his hands behind his back before making him walk to her car, each stepped he cried out in pain. “God, you’re such a big baby” Yelena scoffed before closing the back door of her car. 

Yelena drove the two into the middle of the woods that was well known for its grizzly bear activity. The agent begged for Yelena to take him to the hospital, even telling her that he wouldn’t say what happened, but she ignored his requests and waited for Alexei or Melina to call again. 

An hour passed before Yelena’s phone lit up with Alexei’s name. 

“How is she?” Yelena asked making sure to not enclose Alexei’s name. 

“Her fear has gone and her colour in her skin has come back, Melina says she’ll be fine with plenty of rest” he explains, “where are you, Lena? Come home” he adds. 

“I’m on my way” Yelena replied before hanging up. “Well,” she looks to the agent in the back seat, “looks like today is a good day for you” she smirked before getting out of the car and opening the back door on the right-hand side. “Get out” she demanded. 

“Don’t! Don’t leave me here!” he begged when Yelena harshly grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the car. The agent fell to the ground, “I’ll tell them we’ve been looking at the wrong people, just don’t leave me here” he cried. 

“You’ll be fine, you’re a big boy” Yelena uncuffed the agent and threw the cuffs on the ground beside him, “just be careful of the bears” she smirked before getting back into her car. 

“Yelena!” he called countless times as she watched Yelena’s car get further and further away. 

----

Yelena never left your side when she got back to Melina and Alexei’s house. Melina had you resting in the spare room, and she made sure Yelena ate and looked after herself until you were well enough to be mobile again. 

“Yelena” you smiled softly when you woke up and saw her sitting beside you scrolling through emails on her phone. She looked up at you and smile, “Hi malyshka” she placed her phone on the table beside your bed then lend over to kiss you softly, “you’re back” she whispered against your lips. 

“I couldn’t leave you, not yet” you kissed her again. 

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @natasha-belova | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz| 

[hlizr50]

Willow

TW: Nightmare at the beginning is of Gwyn's SA. Nothing detailed, but definitely more than I've done in the past

After a week of cuddling together when they sleep, Azriel and Gwyn spend their first night apart. At least, that's what they try to do. Spoiler alert - it doesn't work.

Read on AO3

She was shaking.

Large, rough hands roamed over her skin. Unwelcome. Unyielding.

Pain.

A scream ripped past her throat.

God, it hurt. It was unimaginable – a searing burn that reached straight into her soul, shattering her into shards so small that surely she would be broken forever.

“Feels good, huh, little red? You’ll never forget me now, will you?”

Gwyn sat up with a shriek, panting, hands frantically pushing away the sheet and the lingering spiderwebs of that unwanted touch. Thin t-shirt cotton clung to her freckled skin, damp with sweat as the nightmares purged from her.

Sucking in deep, heaving breaths, she covered her face with her hands. Hot tears coursed from the corners of her eyes.

She’d had a full week completely unbothered by these demons. A full week, every night spent in the arms of Azriel Aphelah. She had never felt so safe, so at peace.

But now…

She reached to her nightstand and found her phone, raising it to her face to check the time.

2:23am.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, opening her messages and finding the goodnight texts they’d exchanged hours earlier. She froze there, thumbs poised to start typing.

She shouldn’t bother him. She could deal with it. She had plenty of times before. But…

But she wanted him. Gwyn wanted him to be here. With her. She wanted to curl up in his arms and feel his long fingers tracing lines up and down her back, soothing her until she was pieced back together. Teal eyes stared at the phone as she pondered the conversation they’d had when she dropped him off.

“It feels… wrong. After a week, this will be the first night we won’t spend together,” Azriel murmured, leaning in her rolled-down window.

“Aww, you think you’ll survive without me?” she teased, nose scrunching. He flicked it before grasping her nape and leaning in to brush lips over hers.

“If you need anything, Gwyn, you call me. You understand?”

“You worry too much, Azriel,” she scoffed, even as her heart squeezed at his tenderness.

“Promise me, Gwyn,” he demanded, fixing her with a pointed look that screamed ‘I don’t trust you with this’. She tilted her chin up, earning another light kiss.

“I promise, Az,” she whispered.

“Okay. Drive safe, sunshine. Text me when you get home.”

And even with that assurance, even though she had promised, Gwyn hesitated with her thumb hovering over his name, glowing in the night. She didn’t want to be a burden to him. Didn’t want to seem broken or needy.

You don’t have to deal with this alone. Let us be here for you. Let me.

Promise me, Gwyn.

She took a big gulp of air and tapped on his name before bringing the cellphone to her ear as the tone began to sound.

“Gwyn?” The deep, rich voice on the other end seemed to instantly sooth the aching wounds around her heart. Her breath sawed in and out, voice unable to form words. “Gwyn? Are you okay, sweetheart?” The tears began rolling again at the endearment. God, if he knew what one word could do to her. What would he think?

“Az. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t… want to wake you. But-“

“Don’t apologize, sunshine. Just tell me what’s going on. Was it a nightmare?”

“Uh huh.” Gwyn choked on the sob that slowly bubbled up.

“Do you need me, sweetheart? I can come over,” he offered.

“No.” Yes. “No, that’s okay. I just… can we just talk for a little bit?” Gwyn swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose to her feet before padding out of her bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Of course. What did you do when you got home? Get all that laundry loaded?”

She couldn’t be more grateful for his ability to immediately settle her, to give her exactly what she needed. A quiet giggle escaped her lips as she opened the fridge and fished out her water pitcher.

“I don’t appreciate your insinuation about the amount of laundry I created over the week,” she grumbled, pouring some to help soothe her throat and her mind.

“You had a suitcase full of dirty clothes, Berdara. It is not an insinuation, it is a fact,” a throaty chuckle rumbled through the phone, along with something that sounded like rushing air.

“Are you outside? It sounds… windy?” she asked.

“Nah, I just opened my window. Needed a little fresh air.” Gwyn shrugged as she returned the pitcher to the refrigerator door, finding comfort as he continued to talk as if they were just having a normal, daytime conversation. As if she hadn’t just roused him from deep sleep because she was now somehow too weak to spend a night alone. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t do a single scrap of laundry. I threw my bag on the couch and then just started looking at emails, then got distracted by the pictures Nesta sent.”

She grinned to herself, remembering the texts she’d received from Azriel about them. How he adored her smile. How beautiful she was. There was a picture of her sitting between his legs, her head tilted back laughing. His crooked smile so serenely painted across his handsome face. He’d said it was his favorite. She was inclined to agree, although she was sure it was for a different reason.

“You still in bed?” he asked softly.

“No, I came out and poured a glass of water,” Gwyn replied. “So I’m just sitting on the couch sipping on that. Trying to calm my nerves. Hopefully I’ll be able to get back to sleep in a little bit. Maybe I’ll put on a movie or something.”

“You mean you’ll watch The Little Mermaid for the thousandth time?” he teased.

“Do not judge me! I like singing and I like shiny things, okay?”

“I know, I know. I would never truly judge your comfort movie,” he laughed, the sound a light piercing through the night. “Hey. Speaking of singing, why don’t you sing a song for me?”

“What?” Gwyn balked, eyes wide. As if he were asking her to her face.

“Sing for me, sweetheart. You’re always so joyful and carefree when you sing. Maybe it’ll help.”

“Hmmmm.” Gwyn chewed on her lower lip, pondering. He’d heard her sing before. Many times. But somehow this felt… different. But, much like the decision to call him, she didn’t give herself time to question it.

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man You know that my train could take you home Anywhere else is hollow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

A knock sounded at the door and she gasped, turning toward it.

“Az… someone just knocked on the door,” she murmured, heart racing with barely contained panic. The answer she heard didn’t come through the phone, though. She heard it from the other side of the threshold.

“It’s me, sunshine. Now open up and let me take care of you.”

~~~

It wasn’t so much the ringing, but the vibration against the wood of the nightstand that woke Azriel from his admittedly light sleep. He squinted, pale face and teal eyes meeting his bleary gaze. Gwyn was calling, at… 2:24 in the morning? Worry twisted in his stomach as he answered.

“Gwyn?” All he could hear were her jagged breaths on the other end. He had a feeling he knew why she was calling. “Gwyn? Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Az. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t… want to wake you. But-“

Immediately Azriel was up and moving, tossing a hoodie over his head and stalking toward the door. “Don’t apologize, sunshine. Just tell me what’s going on. Was it a nightmare?”

“Uh huh.” Her voice sounded so strained. As if she was holding on by a thread. Grabbing his keys and wallet he slipped out of the apartment.

“Do you need me, sweetheart? I can come over,” he offered.

“No. No, that’s okay. I just… can we just talk for a little bit?” Azriel thought to pause for a little, but then thought better of it. He had decided that night he found her screaming in her bed that he would not let her suffer alone. And he would hold to that.

“Of course. What did you do when you got home? Get all that laundry loaded?” He tried to keep his tone light, act like they were just having a normal, everyday conversation. As if she hadn’t just called in the middle of the night on the verge of tears. He climbed into his car as quietly as he could. He knew Gwyn would likely protest if she knew he was heading her way when she’d already said he didn’t need to. She didn’t seem to notice when the car started and he began driving down the road, but he was sure she might hear something in the background.

“I don’t appreciate your insinuation about the amount of laundry I created over the week,” she grumbled. A chuckle bubbled up from his chest.

“You had a suitcase full of dirty clothes, Berdara. It is not an insinuation, it is a fact.”

“Are you outside? It sounds… windy?” she asked.

“Nah, I just opened my window. Needed a little fresh air.” Azriel paused for a moment, breathing a silent prayer of thanks that she seemed to accept the explanation. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t do a single scrap of laundry. I threw my bag on the couch and then just started looking at emails, then got distracted by the pictures Nesta sent.”

He had been far more enamored with them than he cared to admit. His chest tightened when he saw her bright smiles and crinkled eyes. And the picture where she was laughing in his arms? It was like gazing into heaven.

“You still in bed?” he asked softly.

“No, I came out and poured a glass of water,” Gwyn replied. “So I’m just sitting on the couch sipping on that. Trying to calm my nerves. Hopefully I’ll be able to get back to sleep in a little bit. Maybe I’ll put on a movie or something.”

“You mean you’ll watch The Little Mermaid for the thousandth time?” he teased. She’d always had a soft spot for the movie, and he knew the music helped lull her to sleep.

“Do not judge me! I like singing and I like shiny things, okay?”

“I know, I know. I would never truly judge your comfort movie,” he laughed. But he needed a way to keep her on the phone until he got to her place. Something that wouldn’t be suspicious. “Hey. Speaking of singing, why don’t you sing a song for me?”

“What?” Gwyn balked. He could imagine the pink staining her cheeks under wide, innocent eyes and couldn’t contain the grin that tilted his lips.

“Sing for me, sweetheart. You’re always so joyful and carefree when you sing. Maybe it’ll help.”

“Hmmmm.” She seemed to contemplate on the other, the silence stretching. Perhaps it was too much to ask.

But even as he had the thought her sweet voice began drifting through the phone. It was a song her didn’t immediately recognize, but it didn’t matter. The melody was pure magic, settling him as he pulled up to her building and dashed out of his car and up the stairs. And when he heard her take a breath he rapped his knuckles on her door.

“Az… someone just knocked on the door.” He heard her voice through the phone. Lowering it from his ear, he called gently from the hallway.

“It’s me, sunshine. Now open up and let me take care of you.”

He heard her gasp and lope to the door. The knob jiggled, as if she was struggling with it. Then the door swung open and there she was, teal eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears.

“Az?” she whimpered.

In one step he gathered her in his arms, ushering them into her apartment and pressing the door closed behind them.

“What are you doing here?” Gwyn’s voice was muffled against his chest. He could feel her shuddering, tears soaking into his sweatshirt.

“Gwyn, sweetheart,” he pushed her back gently so her could lift her chin and look into those ocean-deep eyes. “I made a promise to myself that first night that I would not leave you to suffer through this alone. Never again.”

The dam seemed to break, and she launched herself against him, arms curled around his neck and face tucked against his neck. He pulled up at her thighs, carrying her back to her room as her legs wrapped around his waist and her body continued to tremble as she released those pent up emotions.

“Gwyn,” he murmured as he reached her bed. “I need you to let go. For just a second.” She unwound herself from him, and he found himself entranced by her flushed face. Wetness shimmered over her freckles and eyes swirled with emotion. Azriel’s mouth tipped up. “Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she hiccupped. He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers over her cheekbone before cupping her jaw. Dipping his chin, he captured those full pink lips with his. It was a feeling he could ever get over, never get tired of. He pulled away and crawled over the mattress, sitting himself up against her pillows and spreading his arms to her.

“Come here, sunshine.”

His girlfriend practically leapt into the bed and curled up against him, seemingly trying to press herself as far into him as she could. He wrapped her in his arms, letting his hand stroke down her back and over her shoulder.

“I know I’m no Little Mermaid, but I hope this helps,” he offered, lips pressed to her hair.

“I didn’t realize how much… how much this week had changed things. I feel safe with you. And trying to sleep without you…” Gwyn’s voice trailed off, so he gave her an encouraging squeeze.

“I wasn’t sleeping that well either, if I’m being honest.” He sighed, glad to have her in his embrace again. He hadn’t wanted to leave her earlier, anyway. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Gwyn was quiet against him, and he might have thought she had fallen asleep if it weren’t for her fingers tracing patterns against his toned stomach. Azriel swallowed. He could be the vulnerable one, for her.

“I think… I would very much like it if I had you in my arms every night. If… if you think that might be something you want,” he offered. “I’m not saying you have to move in, but you could if you wanted. I know this is all moving really fast, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I also want to make sure you feel safe, to make sure you can sleep-“

“Azriel.” Her voice was soft and sure and he felt her fingers along his jaw. He looked down just in time for the redhead to press her lips against his. When she pulled away she brought up her other hand, cupping his cheeks. “I… it is fast. But I trust you. You make me feel safe and treasured. I would like to spend every night in your arms, too.”

Azriel grinned down at her, the woman who was just his friend little more than a week ago. But she had been stealing his heart, piece by piece, for some time. It had just taken him awhile to admit it. He tenderly brushed his mouth over her forehead.

“Let’s get some sleep, sweetheart. We can figure out the rest in the morning. Okay?” He reached out to grab the sheet and pulled it up over them as they settled into the mattress, Gwyn tucked snugly against him. He could feel the exhaustion weighing on both of them, their first night apart in over a week a clear failure. But was it truly a failure if it brought them back together? Back to this?

“Thank you, Azriel. For knowing how much I needed you. For taking care of me.” The sleep was heavy in her silky voice as she relaxed against him. He let his lips brush over her head one more time.

“You’re not alone, Gwyn. Never again. I’m here now, and I plan on taking care of you as long as you let me.” And he let his eyes close, lulled by the rhythm of her steady breathing – the assurance that she felt safe and was resting. That he was the reason for that. That they would never spend another night apart.

Tag List: @tealnymph-writes @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @katiebellf @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430 @live-the-fangirl-life

[potsandpains]

the one you would adore

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

tw: the usual cm violence :/, nothing too crazy

summary: Reader doesn't know how to talk to Spencer about her feelings for him, but she insinuates her feelings at the worst possible time. 

genre: angst, comfort, mutual pining, fluff fluff fluff

word count 5.6 k ish??

this fic is brought to you by typing like a maniac until i feel good about my life again lol it’s just been in my head for a few days and i needed to get it onto paper so yes it is a hot mess that’s all salamat sa pagbabasa!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

You breathe deeply, trying (and somewhat failing) to catch your breath and to breathe normally, walking up the steps to your apartment.

It was a Saturday. 

Saturday were your long run days, and while you loved them and knew they were good for you, they certainly made the steps to your door seem eternal. 

You pause your music and check your watch. 

9.3 miles. you think to yourself, Not too bad, all things considered.

It was your first long run in about two weeks, as the past Saturdays had been occupied by a case that took you and the team to Denver.

As you unlock the door to your small apartment and begin your stretching routine, you groan. Whether from the details of the case running through your mind or from your already tense muscles, you weren’t sure.

The team had been called in on a case with a local precinct, in the hopes of being able to profile a killer with an affinity for brunettes. This particular unsub wasted no time and there were half a dozen bodies by the time the BAU came around.

You unpause your music and let it play absently in your ears as the events of the case continue to fill your thoughts.

If only Reid hadn’t made things so… difficult. 

You two had been flirty since you started at the BAU, but it never moved past anything other than a flirtationship. You were the only person that didn’t interrupt his rambling thoughts and he was the only one who didn’t tease you about your fear of the dark. As a result, you engaged when he came to you with some new and “exciting” statistic (exciting by his definition, that is) and he always walked you to your car or into your apartment late at night. A friendship had been born. 

It seemed a fair trade.

You liked Spencer, you liked him so much it scared you. Moving to D.C. had been tricky and making friends difficult considering the hours you worked and so as the months went on your time was either spent with the entirety of the team or with Spencer.

And although you never told anyone, you always preferred the times when it was just you and him. 

Over time, all that time spent together meant that  you became more than just work friends and were genuinely close. He considered you his closest friend and you considered him yours. 

He was just so... adorable. Not in like the baby animals and "it’s so fluffy I’m gonna die” kind of adorable, but easy to adore. Yes he was the brilliant and yes he was distractingly hot, but he was also just so inherently good that you couldn’t help but love him. 

You definitely loved him as a friend, but it was the recent shift in feelings that made you anxious. When he hugged you tightly after a particularly rough case, you knew you weren’t slightly shaking just from fear. 

When you both dozed off on his couch watching I Love Lucy reruns, waking up to his arms lazily draped around you made your heart pound.

And when someone told a joke and the first person he looked at to laugh at with was you? You thought you might just melt on the spot.

So yes, things were difficult indeed.

How do you preserve a friendship you want to ruin? A friendship that means absolutely everything to you, but that you could easily toss aside if he decided he wanted more?

You shook your head. 

He wasn’t called “pretty boy” for nothing. And although he was adorably blind to the obvious swooning of every woman who saw him on the street (which was another thing you adored about him) you knew. Dr. Reid could get any girl he wanted to, so why would go for his best friend and coworker?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - -

The case itself had been fairly straight forward and it wasn’t difficult to profile the killer. They found him relatively quickly. The arrest, however, hadn’t gone so well.

The unsub was a man by the name of Carter Wells, who apparently had a brunette ex-wife that left him. He couldn’t handle the rejection and had been torturing and killing women who looked just like her for months at this point. There was another girl who had gone missing that fit his preferences exactly, so the team was desperately hoping she would still be alive when they found him. 

Reid hadn’t wanted you to go. He said that the rest of the team could handle it and that you should stay at the station. You nearly laughed, until you saw he was serious. 

“I appreciate the concern, but that’s not happening. I’ll be fine, really.” You assured him.

“You don’t know that.”

“Okay, you're right I guess, but-” you start.

“I’m always right.” he states matter-of-factly

“I wasn’t finished, Spence. You’re right, I don’t know that. But I do know that I’ll be wearing a vest, I’ll have my gun, and that pretty much the entire team will be there alongside me. Are you suggesting that you don't have my back?” you say facetiously, half joking. 

“No that’s not what I’m saying at all I just mean that-” 

“I’m glad you care, my friend, but I hope you trust me enough to do my job. I’m going with you.”

“y/n, you’re his exact type. You don’t think that will trigger him or cause any potential danger to you?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Reid, it’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much.” You give him an exasperated look, turning to walk away.

You hear him sigh in defeat. "I just- I can’t help but worry when it comes to you.” He admits, saying it so softly you don’t think you heard him correctly. 

You turn back around to face him. On his face was an expression of such tenderness and concern you almost pinched yourself. Your heart fluttered in your chest in response.

Easy tiger, you think to yourself. He’s just showing concern for a friend.

Still, you stepped back toward him and placed a hand on his arm. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll be really careful. We’ll get this guy and we’ll be on our way home tonight. You’ll see.” you said, trying to give a look that seems reassuring rather than amorous.

He places his hand on top of your own and smiles. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Be safe, alright?” he requests.

“Two way street, my friend. You better be careful too.” You replied.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - -

“Carter Wells, open up! FBI!” Morgan shouted at the door.

To no one’s surprise, the door remains shut.

“Reid and y/l/n, check the back,” Hotch says to you two. “Prentiss and I will look through the yard. Morgan, do what you need to if no one answers.” He gives Morgan, Prentiss, and the officers a nod as the two of you start making your way to the back door.

As you turned the corner around the house you heard the familiar sound of a door being kicked in. You smiled to yourself. Ah Morgan. Never knew a door he didn’t want to break down. 

Refocusing at the task at hand, you scanned the house. You knew you had to act quick. If the unsub was home, it was only a matter of time before he heard the swarm of FBI agents in his house. 

“Spence, there’s a stairwell on the south side of the house. It could lead to a separate basement.” You said. 

He gave you a confirming nod before giving you the go-ahead. “You lead, I’ve got your back.”

You eased your way down the stairwell, heart pounding as you gave the rusty door a kick. 

It swung open easily. 

You were beginning to feel nauseous. Something was off. But what?

You stepped into the dark basement, finding it unfinished. Cement floors, electrical wiring, and wooden framing were all you could see. 

Except for down the hall.

A small light from a singular lightbulb tried its best to illuminate the dark space. You gripped your gun tighter, walking towards the light. You heard Morgan and the others upstairs, but it was eerily quiet as Spencer followed you down the hallway.

“Carter Wells? FBI. We have agents surrounding the house. It’s over.” You said.

You were met with silence. You looked back at Spencer and he gave you another nod and you both continued down the hallway.

As the light grew closer, you saw the glint of power tools and hunting knives lying haphazardly on the floor. You grimaced as you saw the blood that coated them, not daring to imagine what had happened in this room.

You turn the corner into the room where the light was shining, nudging the door open slightly, and there she was. The most recent missing woman was tied to a table in the middle of the room, eyes blown wide from shock and fear.

She heard you step into the room, and her head jerked to your direction.

“No! He’s-” She tried to say.

A figure came from behind the door and kicked the back of your knees. Your legs gave out as your gun slipped from your hands. Strong arms came around your neck and shoulders, a knife now held to your throat.

He dragged you against the back wall as Reid pointed his gun at him, hands shaking.

“So now you’re back? Now I’m enough for you?” he yelled into your ear. “Now that I’m important enough and everyone is talking about me you come crawling back?” 

Still in shock, you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“You-you were always important,” you stutter meekly, growing lightheaded as his grip tightened. You struggled against him, but you couldn’t quite break free. The tip of the knife pricked your throat and you felt the smallest trickle of blood run down your neck. 

“You don’t think that, Jenny. You’ve never, never thought that. I loved you! I gave you everything and when that wasn’t enough you left.“ His words were somewhere between sobs and screams. He was in hysterics, thinking you were the wife who had rejected him.

“Carter- Carter she is not your wife,” Spencer said, “She’s gone. A-and you’ll never get her back. I know she hurt you, but you can’t keep doing this. You need- You need to let her go and put the knife down.” He looked  desperate, but the genius found his mind empty. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. 

“Jenny meant to hurt me. She wanted me to know that I was nothing without her. Now look at me! I don’t need her, I’ve met other women. Done other things.” He wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular at this point and you knew he was trying to convince himself that he was better off now than he had been with his wife, even after the heinous things he had done. You felt sick to your stomach at what "other things" he was referring to.

 An idea came to mind.

“You have done other things,” you heard yourself say, “So many things that I’ve never done. I’m so proud of you. I-I know, I know that I don’t deserve you, Carter, but I came back.” Reid looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. Honestly, you may have at this point. You doubt anyone would blame you, given the circumstances.

You feel his grip on you loosen slightly, slight sobs rumbling in his chest behind you. The knife lowers a few inches and you can breathe a little more normally.

“I- I love you. I love you so much." you stopped, realizing what you were saying. "I absolutely adore you. I came back because- because you deserve a woman who knows what you have to offer. You could have any woman you wanted.” You were realizing your words weren't necessarily for Carter at this point. “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to recognize it. There’s no one like you, baby, and I want-” 

“NO!” he yelled, gripping you tightly again and raising the knife to your throat. Too slowly, however, as you were able to duck beneath his arm and roll on the ground toward your own gun. 

Reid’s gun went off and shots were fired as two bullets landed right in Well’s chest. He collapsed to the cement floor, dead.

It was over. 

You were okay.

Maybe not okay, but you were alive. 

You stood up, shaking, yelling for Hotch and a medic. The girl on the table was completely silent despite what just happened, eyes open wide and no doubt traumatized from what she just witnessed. You had started untying her when Reid grabbed your arm and pulled you into the hallway.

“What the hell was that?” he said, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“What do you mean ‘what the hell was that?’” You replied incredulously.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea to come! He thought you were his wife, you could’ve been killed. Why did you entertain his delusions?” 

“I did what I had to.” you retort, yanking your arm from his grip. “I’m alive and so is that girl we just saved. Shouldn’t that be all that matters? What is with you today, Spence?” You wished he wasn’t so angry. What you needed was a hug, but instead you were being met with reprimand and anger? 

“I’m trying to help you! I want to make sure you don’t get killed and your recklessness isn’t making it easy.” He no longer cared about keeping his voice down, apparently, as he was shouting at you at this point.

“Well who said I want your help?” you shot back, frustrated.

He blanched, and you immediately regretted what you said. This was your best friend and the man whom you had just tried to profess your love for via crisis negotiation, and here you were saying you didn’t care that helped you?

“Wait, Spence, I didn’t mean that I’m sorry I-” 

Feet pounded down the stairs as the basement was flooded with officers and agents. It would be impossible to continue having a private conversation now. Hotch approached you both, noticing the grim expressions you both had and the dried blood still on your throat. “Are you okay? What happened?” he inquired.

Reid shook his head, looking at you with such sadness yet frustration. “Have y/n explain it to you sir, she could tell you more about it than I could.” He gave you another sad glance and then turned around and walked away, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of what just happened.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - -

Reid didn’t like feeling empty-headed. It was a foreign concept to him as he seemed to always have something to say or a factoid to explain or a stat to share. Not that anyone cared, most of the time. Well, no one but you.

It was ironic, the only person with whom he felt so open with was also the person that made him lose his train of thought the most. 

He had known he had feelings for you for a long time, but he didn’t dare tell you. You were his dearest friend, and he couldn’t possibly imagine ruining what you had already. 

Although, he did imagine it. Far more often than he liked to admit.

It was one thing to love someone and to have deep affection for them. It was another thing entirely to be devoted to that person and hold them dearer than anyone else. It mean adoring someone completely and wholeheartedly. Reid loved Morgan. He adored you. It was different, somehow.  

The words you had said rang in his ears. Did you mean them? Or were they just to placate Wells? You were looking right at him when you said them, and his heart had nearly broken at the thought that this might be the first and only time you would tell him you loved him. 

But did you love him? How was he supposed to know what kind of love you even meant?

The problem with him going empty-headed was that when his thoughts came back, there were too many of them rushing at far too fast a pace for him to be able to rationally handle them. Hence the reason he said “what the hell was that” instead “I love you and I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He groaned internally. It was going to be a long flight.

- - -

Your previous statement was right. You did end up going home that night, but instead of it being a happy matter that you had caught another killer and brought peace to the victim’s families, it was spent in bitter confusion as you and Spencer sat on opposite ends of the jet, avoiding all eye contact and conversation. 

Why were things so hard right now? There had been dangerous cases like this before, but why now did he get so protective?

Morgan’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hey kid, you and Reid alright?” Morgan asked you. “I know that thing with the unsub was pretty scary. 

You grimaced. “Yeah, it was. I’m okay, just a little shaken up I guess. I don’t know about Reid though.”

“Well if you need anything, I’m always here.” he offered. 

You smile. “Thanks Morgan. I appreciate it.” I doubt you’ll want to give me advice on trying to tell my best friend I’m in love with him while being held at knifepoint, though, you think to yourself.

Although the plane ride seemed eternal, you eventually made it back to Quantico. It was the middle of the night, and the elevator ride up to the BAU made everyone doze. You closed your eyes and leaned against the back of the elevator and sighed. After a deep breath, you opened your eyes and looked around only to find Spencer staring right at you. You quickly dropped your gaze and saw him do the same as the elevator doors opened and the team went to the bullpen to drop off some files and paperwork before heading home for some much needed rest. 

Except, oh no. It was dark. Spencer always walked you to your car when it was dark. Would tonight be an exception? You gathered your things and found your keys, prepping to make the long and dark walk to your car in the parking garage, when he approached your desk.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, just one sec.” You said, surprised. You pick up your purse and go-bag and start walking towards the elevator. He follows.

He walks with you silently, side by side. From the elevator ride, to the walk to through the library, to the echoing steps of the parking garage. When you get to your car, you take a deep breath and turn towards him. “Look, Spence, I-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said simply. 

“Oh. Okay then. Well, goodnight. Drive safe.” You say dejectedly.

“You too, y/n.”

You drove home silently, unsure of what to do next.

- - -

That was a few days back. You two were slowly easing back into your friendship, but things just weren’t the same. You were so worried you had offended him too deeply and that you had been too reckless for him to respect you anymore.

But how you missed him. You missed working with him and joking with him and just being with him all the time. You were usually together every night, too, but you hadn’t seen him outside the BAU since the case. Maybe you needed to move on. Maybe you could be alright if you just moved on from this ever confusing friendship and started something new.

You were still sitting in a saddle stretch trying to loosen up from your run, too deep in thought to have moved off the living room floor.

How long had you been sitting there? You didn’t know. 

You took a deep breath as you stood up, deciding that you needed to get a move on. Get a move-on with your feelings, with your day, with your friendship. You weren’t sure. But if you knew one thing, you knew that the best way to shake it out was with a terribly uncoordinated dance party.

You grabbed your phone and picked the first song you saw. “Alright, Cool, Whatever,” by The Happy Fits. 

Okay, why not. You turn your earbuds up as loud as you can stand and start to dance. You’ve never been a good dancer, and it was honestly more therapeutic than it was artistic. Throwing all your cares about your neighbors, you start belting the lyrics and dancing even more dorkily around your apartment.

After you leave, I'll be so alright, it's true

It's not like I've got something grand to say to you

Like, "You'll be the only ever one"

Like the only ever ones who came before

How could I ever be so dumb

To believe I'd be the one you would adore?

Well those lyrics certainly hit close to home. Spencer cared about you, of course. You were his friend. But you wanted him to do more than care. You wanted him to absolutely adore you the way you adored him. 

too much thinking, you thought.

You keep singing, feeling the tension leave your shoulders as you take your hair down from its sweaty ponytail and jump around the living room. 

I wanna be with you, I wanna be with you

I wanna be barely hanging on

I wanna be with you, I wanna be with you

I wanna be barely hanging on

I wanna be with you all of the time

I wanna be loved by you every night

I wanna be dancing, dreaming

Bawling and weeping over you all of my life

Dancing and dreaming now, bawling and weeping later. Sounds like a good schedule. 

 No, you think. Not right now. You need to be able to forget all of this. Cleanse yourself from aaaaaall the crazy lady in that head of yours.

Your headphones were so loud and you were so in your head that you didn’t hear the door to your apartment open, Nor did you see someone walking into your living room.

You were a sight to behold, that’s for sure. Still in your running clothes, glowing from exertion, sweaty beyond belief. Looking both breathtaking and mortifyingly uncoordinated as you danced like a complete idiot. 

You were dancing like nobody was watching because as far as you were concerned no one was watching. It wasn’t until a light tap on your shoulders brought you back to your senses and you spin around with an arm outstretched, swinging to hit your attacker. 

Your “attacker” catches your wrist in his hand easily and gives you a look that says “seriously?”

“SPENCE!” you practically shout. “Oh my goodness you scared the life out of me!” you say, panting.

He releases your arm. “And you scared me. I called you three times and you didn’t answer. I was worried.” 

You take your earbuds out, placing them on the table beside the couch. You frown. “Really? Well that’s weird.”

You grab your phone and after a quick check smack your forehead. “Ohhh. I’m so sorry. I run more miles on Saturday so I usually have my phone on ‘do not disturb.’ I haven’t been home very long and I forgot to turn it off.” You plop down on the couch. He remains standing above you. You feel starkly underdressed in your workout attire as he looks down at you in slacks and a dress shirt, a cardigan loosely hanging from his shoulders. 

You’ve never seen a man under 80 wear a cardigan until Spencer Reid. You’ve also never seen a man pull off a cardigan until Spencer Reid either. Although you wouldn’t mind pulling off that cardigan yourself...

“That’s okay.” His voice snaps you back into reality.” I get it. it happens. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Thanks for the spare key, by the way.” his face breaks out into a begrudging smile. “You’re quite the dancer, aren’t you?”

You feel your face flush. “I’m not trying to be a good dancer, dude. it's more therapeutic than anything else.” you say, trying and failing to hide your embarrassment.

“Therapeutic? Why do you have the need to. . . dance therapeutically?” He says it as if he’s embarrassed for you.

“For uh, lots of things. This past case was pretty stressful and it’s been weighing kind of heavy on me.” You admit. You weren’t technically lying, were you?

“Oh. Yeah I understand that.” He replies, looking down to his feet. Why does he sound disappointed?

“And...” you start.

“And what?” He says, his head popping back up to meet your eyes. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his expression. 

“I’ve just felt so bad about how things ended in Denver. I didn’t mean to worry you and I always value your help. You’re only trying to be a good friend and I was being stubborn. I’m so so so sorry Spence.” It all came out in what felt like one breath. So much for subtlety.

He shakes his head as he gives you a soft smile. Why did he feel so far away? “I forgive you. I’m sorry I yelled. There was no reason for me to be so angry. I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He says quietly.

The silence was awkward. Things should be fine. You had apologized, You friendship seemingly salvaged. Why did it feel like something was missing? 

“Spencer, I-” You begin.

“What song were you listening to?” He asks abruptly. 

“Oh,” You say, surprised. “It’s uh- by a band called The Happy Fits. I really like their music.” You reply awkwardly.

“Oh. Nice.” He nods, staring at the wall behind your head. 

 “Do you- do you want to listen to it?” You say, grabbing your earbuds and offering him one. He is still standing above you on the couch. What is going on in that genius head of his?

“...Sure, I guess?” He slips it into his ears as you press play. 

You both listen silently. 

You never knew silence could feel so... stiff. Spencer was listening intently from his expression, but his eyes were glued to the wall behind you, very clearly avoiding eye contact. 

You get halfway through the first verse before you decide that you can’t take it anymore. You sit up from the couch, grab Spencer’s hand, and resume what could only be labeled as the most cringeworthy dance session possible.

Terrible dancing really is so much more fun with a partner, and while Spencer is uncomfortable with what is happening at first, he soon is dancing even more enthusiastically than you are. 

You laugh as he spins you, happy things can be fine, even if it’s just for a moment. Even if it’s just right now. You wouldn’t mind staying here forever with him, dancing with you and not a care in the world.

The chorus comes on for the second time, and while Spencer doesn’t know the words, you are more than happy to belt them all the louder. 

I wanna be with you, I wanna be with you

I wanna be barely hanging on

I wanna be with you, I wanna be with you

I wanna be barely hanging on

I wanna be with you all of the time

I wanna be loved by you every night

I wanna be dancing, dreaming

Bawling and weeping over you all of my life

You sing off-key but with all the gusto you can manage, meaning every single word you say to your clumsy partner. In fact, you’re still singing when Spencer wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to him. Your hands rest on his chest as his arms come to grip your elbows. You stop singing, gasping slightly. 

He looks you right in the face with a look you can’t quite discern. 

“Do you mean that?” He asks softly.

“WHAT?” You shout, the music still blaring in your ear.

He yanks the earbuds from your ear and then from his, shoving them in his pockets. It’s quiet now. Too quiet. You wonder if he can hear how hard your heart is pounding.

You swallow. Are you out of breath from the dancing or from how close he is to you?

“What?” You say again, much quieter.

“Do you mean that?” he repeats.

“Do I mean-” you begin

“Do you mean that you want to be with me?” He says, a look of hope now clearly painted in his face. “Do you want to be with me, like,” he gestures to the two of you. “this.” 

“I-I don’t understand.” You say, confused as to what “this” meant, a little too hopeful that “this” meant everything you wanted but had never been brave enough to consider.

“Why can't you- I can’t- Just- ugh why do you make my life so hard?” He says, clearly frustrated. He lets go of you, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Do you know why I was so angry with you back in Denver?”

“Because I was reckless and didn’t use my head-” You try.

“No, no. I- I was furious because I thought I was going to lose you. I thought you were maybe trying to tell me something and all I could think about what that you were going to die and I was never going to be able to tell you-” He stops. Hesitation creeping into his voice. His gaze into your eyes breaks and he looks over your shoulder.

“Tell me what, Spence?” You ask gently. Despite the nervousness you feel, you take a step forward, raising a hand up to gently grab his chin and bring him back to look at you.

He looks in your eyes again. There it is, that same look of tenderness and concern that was there in the station when he was so worried about you. 

His gaze drops to your lips, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. He licks his own lips, takes a deep breath, and leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

If you had known what kissing Spencer would be like, you would have done it long before this. It was passionate and hungry and achingly sweet. His lips moved over yours as your hands reached up to wrap around his neck. His arms pulled you in closer as they wrapped around your waist, and you felt him hum blissfully against your lips.

After what could have been an eternity or a few seconds, You break apart. 

You open your eyes, blinking a few times as you try to comprehend what just happened. “So that’s what you wanted to tell me” 

He laughs softly, pressing another small kiss to your lips. “Yes, that is exactly what I meant.”

"Good. I meant it too," you say shyly. "You were right, you know.”

“I always am, but what about?” He jokes.

“That day in Denver. I didn’t plan to tell you. I don’t know what came over me, but I didn’t know what the end result would be with the unsub and I just knew that I had to tell you, no matter what happened.” You say.

“I was worried you were just negotiating and that I was reading too much into what you said. I was so scared something was going to go wrong and that I wouldn't know for sure.”

“Well,” you say, smiling. “Now you know.”

“Hmm, and what is it that I know?” He says, teasing. 

“You know, Spencer Reid, that I-” you press a kiss to his lips.

 “love-” 

another kiss

“you.” 

a final kiss for good measure.  

“I’m sorry it took a murderer and a near death experience for me to say it.” 

He laughs. “Yeah that was not an ideal situation for that conversation. Let’s not make that a habit.” He hugs you close, kissing the top of your head. “I love you too, darling girl. I adore you. I adore absolutely everything about you. I always have.”

“Everything?” you mumble into his chest.

“Everything.” 

You hug him a little tighter, a warmth spreading through your chest that you knew wasn’t just from the post-run endorphins. 

I adore you sounds even better than I love you, you decided.

You sit in your embrace for a moment until-

“Spencer, I have another confession.” You say quietly.

“Yes?” He replies.

“You are a disgraceful dancer.” 

He gasps in mock indignation, pulling away until you’re at arm’s length. “Me, disgraceful? Have you seen yourself dance? You look like you’re being possessed!"

It was your turn to gasp. “I do not!” You playfully smack his shoulder.

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t!”

“Oh you absolutely do.” 

“I do not dance like-” you pause, letting out a frustrated breath. “Well then.” 

“’Well then’ what?” he prods.

“If we’re both such bad dancers, I guess we’ll just have to dance a different way.” You suggest.

He raises an eyebrow. “What way?”

You silently reach your hands in his pocket and pull out the earbuds, placing one in your ear as he places one in his. You retrieve your phone from the couch and pick a song that’s slow and melodic.

“Slow.” You say with a smile.

You tuck the phone into the waistband of your leggings as you guide Spencer’s arms around your waist, your own wrapping around his neck. He returned your smile with a look so full of adoration your heart could’ve burst. 

“Hey y/n.”

“Yes, Spence.”

“I even adore your bad dancing.”

You give him another playful punch on the shoulder as you shake your head, smiling softly.

He holds you close as you sway in the living room. Here you were, dancing with the one you love, your very best friend, and the man you adore. 

Who adores you too. :)

[yazthebookish]

I don't even know why I have to address this again but I need people to remember about Gwyn and her being a SA survivor:

TW: mentions of SA

• In ACOSF, it's been two years since her SA.

• Her stepping out for training marks the beginning of her healing journey yet we did not reach the climax of that journey because SJM is saving it for what I believe is to be Azriel/Gwyn's book because Gwyn returned to the library. She is not healed yet as stated by herself towards the end of the book.

• Gwyn started reading light smut towards the beginning of her friendship with Nesta and Emerie, Nesta expected Gwyn to reject but Gwyn was interested and came to training the next day blushing. Months have passed and she probably started diving deeper since they constantly share smutty books and she is acquainting herself with romance and sex through literature.

Emerie said casually, “I can bring one of Drake’s books for you, too—one of her milder ones. An introduction to the wonders of romance.” Emerie winked at Nesta. Nesta waited for Gwyn to refuse, but the priestess smiled. “I’d like that.” (ACOSF, pg. 302)

• Gwyn is shown to be curious about sex. She asked her friend "Nesta" if the sex with Cassian was good? She is exploring sex and she is curious and her curiosity is there to feed her with knowledge of certain topics. She wants to know if sex is enjoyable.

Nesta’s cheeks flushed. Emerie and Gwyn swapped glances. And it was Gwyn who said, “Was it good?” (ACOSF, pg. 396)

• Nesta felt guilty about leaving Gwyn with Rhys and Cassian when she saw her step away from the ring. Yet, we have seen her alone with Az chatting during the night and without showing a single sign of discomfort around him. After he bid her good night she turned her back to him to focus on the ribbon. She wasn't afraid or uncomfortable around Azriel.

• She does not mind being in close proximity to Azriel that even after she crossed the finish line she extended her hand to Azriel to claim her prize which also shows she does not repulse from a simple touch.

Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling, so he’d left them with a promise to return in an hour. (ACOSF, pg. 561)

And when Gwyn reached the finish line, bloody and panting and grinning so wildly her teal eyes glowed like a sunlit sea, she only extended her battered hand to Azriel. “Well?” (ACOSF, pg. 625)

• More than one scene highlighted that Gwyn keeps glancing towards Azriel. She almost can't take her eyes off him. Isnt it possible to conclude that she feels attracted to him? if she later had shown signs of discomfort then I would've assumed she is intimidated by his presence but she isn't, she is the one that publicly teases and challenges him.

She’d said nothing about it during the lesson. Only glanced every now and then toward Az, who remained dutifully focused on his charges. Cassian couldn’t read the expression on her face. (ACOSF, pg. 406)

Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer. She said, “I’m not entirely sure.” (ACOSF, pg. 514)

Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. (ACOSF, pg. 623)

What can we conclude from this?

If the next book is Azriel and his LI is Gwyn then SJM gave us hints in ACOSF about Gwyn exploring the idea of romance and intimacy so it wouldn't feel to rushed or random when she develops a romance between her and Azriel. It's safe to assume that Gwyn could have feelings for Azriel based on her actions around him. Insinuating that her status as a SA survivor limits her from getting into a romantic relationship is insensitive and hurtful to those who are SA survivors. Yes, healing varies, some survivors take longer and some survivors take shorter period of times to take a step into romance.

Based on what's canon, it won't be surprising or shocking to see Gwyn get into a relationship with a love interest. The only person she had shown interest in is Azriel. I think Gwyn and Az's book would send such a powerful and beautiful message to all SA survivors that their trauma does not define them, they can explore love at their own pace, they can explore intimacy at their own pace. There is no definite period of time for healing, no one can tell them how long they need to heal or when they can get into a relationship. SA survivors decide that for themselves because it is their choice and their consent that matters.

I apologize if I worded something wrong within this text, but my message is genuine and in support of SA survivors who are victims of the stigma surrounding SA. You own your choice, you own your voice. Your body is yours, your heart is yours. You are worthy of love and affection.