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brother-genitivi · 1 year

Note

gimme "you deserve to know" for Mason and Aydın pls

tysm for the request Laura!!!

Rating: teen + up Pairing: Mason / Aydın Word count: 1k Contains Book 3 spoilers!

“Hi, baba.”

There’s no reply.

Aydın sits cross-legged in the grass, a bundle of blue forget-me-nots bunched in his hand. He fiddles with the stems of the flowers.

“Sorry I haven’t been here in a while,” he says. He keeps his eyes trained on the stems, weaving them into a wonky wreath of some sorts.

Aydın makes a noise of frustration. “I’m struggling to talk to a grave. I sound like a fucking idiot.”

He used to come every week. He’d talk about his day, about the horrid essay he was procrastinating finishing. Weeks turned into months, months into years, now suddenly he’s twenty six years old and he hasn’t visited in eight years.

It just felt like talking to a stranger.

“Whatever, who cares. I, um, wanted to say that I met someone. I wish you could meet him, too.”

He stops abruptly as a crack sounds from behind him. He tenses, scanning the ground for something he can use to defend himself. There's nothing, not even a rock, just grass and more grass-

Aydın can’t stop the shriek that escapes his lips when a hand touches his shoulder. He whirls around, taking a large step backwards.

“Fucking hell! Oh, it’s you!” Aydın breathes.

Mason raises a dark brow. He’s dressed in his usual attire of a burgundy shirt and dark jeans. The crystal around his neck is thankfully still clear, though it hasn’t been too long since they visited the antique shop together.

“Expecting someone else?” Mason says. His brows quickly furrow with worry. “You alright? What’re you doing in a graveyard?”

Aydın holds up his hands, one still clenching the wreath. He takes deep, measured breaths. “I’m fine, fine. Sorry. Jumpy.”

Mason nods in understanding. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. Must feel like everyone’s out to get you now.”

Aydın shivers as a chill passes over him. He nods.

“Oh!” he says suddenly. “To answer your other question, I’m visiting my father.”

“Visiting- huh.” Mason’s gaze lands on the weathered headstone. “I can leave if you want.”

Aydın manages a small smile, shaking his head. He's getting what he wants, in a way. For Mason to meet his father.

He sits on the ground again. Mason follows suit, his grey eyes flicking between Aydın and the headstone.

Aydın continues with the wreath, tying the ends together with another flower’s stem. Mason watches his hands move with great interest.

A comfortable silence descends between them. Aydın rests the wreath on the headstone.

Odd. Someone must’ve cleaned it recently. They took the time to painstakingly remove the moss from the engraved letters, as well as washing the dirt off the stone. Probably my mother, Aydın thinks.

“What’s that?” Mason asks, pointing at a small object on top of the headstone.

Aydın touches the chess piece with his fingers. It sends a jolt of energy down his arm. “A knight. Huh.”

He brings his arm back to his side, thinking nothing more of it. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. Bye, baba.”

Aydın takes Mason to the field next to the graveyard. He sinks into the grass and leans backwards to face the clear sky. Aydın finally allows himself to relax, knowing that he’s safe with Mason there. He sucks in a deep breath, content to enjoy the quiet for as long as he can.

His skin heats up as a finger wraps around his pinkie. Aydın slides his hand into Mason’s, their fingers clasping tightly together. Mason’s hands are far warmer than his own, larger and freckled, but soft. Aydın runs a thumb over his knuckles, the movement entirely instinctual.

His phone buzzes. Aydın resists the urge to fling it against the ground in the hopes it might shatter. He extricates his hand from Mason's with a small apology and looks at the notification.

“It’s from Reyhan,” he murmurs. “She wants to see me so we can talk about things.”

“Do you want to?” Mason asks.

Aydın shrugs, his shoulders tensing. The truth is, no, he doesn’t want to. She can ask all she wants, but the answer is always going to be no.

He pushes aside a prickle of guilt that threatens to work its way up his spine.

“I can’t help but think my father would want me to reconcile things with her,” Aydın says. He lets out a strained chuckle. “I mean, obviously. She’s his wife. I don't know if I want to. But should I?”

Mason makes a noise. “Who gives a fuck what you should do? It’s about what you want, handsome.”

Aydın tilts his head at Mason. He wasn’t expecting that answer. Mason’s loyalty to Unit Bravo is unparalleled, and by extension, his loyalty to Reyhan as well. He makes his respect for her clear, at the very least.

“You deserve to know,” Mason continues. “That it’s up to you, I mean. Screw that. You deserve better.”

Aydın climbs onto Mason’s lap, his legs wrapping around his back so he straddles his middle. “I have better, Mason. I have the best. I have you.”

Mason grins at him, his hands resting behind Aydın’s neck and supporting his weight. He pulls Aydın in, closing the gap between them.

Aydın gnaws at his lip, unable to shove down the anxiety fluttering around in his chest. Butterflies, he thinks, is too nice a word for feelings that make him want to explode (in the best way, of course).

“You think I’m the best?” Mason teases.

Aydın makes a face, moving away. “Did I actually say best? I can’t recall. I think I meant the grouchiest, grumpiest ray of sunsh-”

Mason responds by removing his hands from behind Aydın’s neck. Aydın falls backwards into the grass with a small thump.

“Rude.”

Mason clambers on top of him, his hands on either side of Aydın’s head, effectively pinning him in place. “You love it. Admit it.”

Aydın huffs, a flush creeping onto his cheeks. “I love…”

You.

“I love it,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Satisfied?”

Mason cocks his head to one side. His grey eyes almost seem to soften.

Aydın waits for Mason’s usual flirtation, some horrendous line he will end up waving off or laughing at. But it never comes. It’s almost as if Mason is afraid to lose the gentle moment.

He smiles one of his rarer, genuine smiles, his teeth fully exposed. It’s a smile Aydın is seeing more and more often, reserved only for him.

“Satisfied.”

I love you, Aydın thinks.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc book 3 spoilers #twc spoilers #twc mason #specialist agent mason #twc detective #twc fic #mason x detective #aydın çağlayan #maydın #my writing #i love them sm. anyways LOL

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tovbekarxx · 7 years

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Seninle iken çok mutluyum,o kadar uzaklar da olsan bile , çünkü çok özgürüm , kuşlar gibi , yaşasın çünkü hep seninleyim , yani gökyüzündeyim…!

#tekheceaşk #gelbe gökyüzüm #maydın

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brother-genitivi · 1 year

Note

10 for a wayhaven pairing? Uwu

hound tsym!! 10 - "please. please just listen to me.”

Rating: teen + up Pairing: Mason / Aydın Word count: 1k

“Hear me out-”

“No way. I don’t do weddings.” Mason comes to a stop near his room. Just as soon as the words come out of his mouth, he regrets them. He hates weddings, it’s true. But it is Aydın who’s asking. He’d go for him.

“Listen for just a second!” Aydın’s voice rises in pitch. A nervous giggle escapes his mouth. “Wait, wait. Please, please just listen to me.”

Mason leans against the warehouse wall and folds his arms. He makes a movement with his head as if to say, ‘I am listening’. His mouth curls into a comfortable smirk.

Aydın points a very serious finger at him. “Don’t look at me like that!”

Mason's smirk grows wider.

“I’m asking for your help. Or to just hear me out. Pretty please- are you laughing at me?” Aydın thunders. “Asshole.”

He breaks out into a huge grin and aims a playful punch at Mason’s shoulder. Mason is behind him in a flash. He slides his hands onto Aydın’s wrists, gently pinning him to the wall.

“Unfair,” Aydın mutters. His eyes bore into Mason’s, deep dark browns soft with adoration. Mason wouldn’t mind losing himself in them.

His mood sours as his thumbs gingerly press into Aydın’s pulse points. Not because of how they quicken (that would normally give Mason a sense of satisfaction), but because of what lies under his skin, rushing through his veins.

Temptation.

Mason releases him and draws back, jamming his hands into his pockets. A flash of concern passes over Aydın’s face.

“So why exactly do you need me to come?” Mason asks quickly. Aydın tilts his head to the side, but thankfully decides to answer his question.

“I was talking to my teyze and she misheard something I said. Now she thinks I have a boyfriend and I felt too awkward to correct her because she kept saying ‘oh, it’s about time!’ and ‘I am so happy for you, it’s been years now!’, like okay, goddamn, and she’s given me an invite for my imaginary boyfriend and already told the entire family about him because I keep getting texts from everyone asking if he’s hot or not and if we’ll make gorgeous half-Turkish children with curly hair, so I need to show up with someone or I’ll explode and die. I don’t even want children!”

He heaves in a deep breath. Mason stares at him, processing.

“Seriously, Mason, I will never hear the end of it if I go by myself. Turkish women are tenacious.”

“And you want me to… help? I’m your go-to?” Mason asks incredulously. “Not Nate?”

It’s true, they have been close for a while now. He can tell Aydın anything, or not say anything at all and still feel comfortable with him. He enjoys their shared silences the most.

But it’s Nate that Aydın spends most of his time with (when he isn’t with Mason). He naturally assumed that Nate would be his go-to.

“Oh, I love Nate,” Aydın says nonchalantly. “But I already brought him to the henna night party. And made it very clear that we’re just friends. Like I said, Turkish women are tenacious. Always assuming and always in other people’s business.”

“And you want me to go with you instead?”

Mason already knows the answer. Yet, for some reason, he wants to hear Aydın say it.

“I do.” He wrings his fingers. “But not if you’re uncomfortable with it. I don’t want to pressure you. I went to you first because I trust you.”

Hearing that Aydın trusts him is a strange kind of euphoria. Suddenly he feels light, happy. It doesn’t feel wrong. Just… normal.

It's almost as if Mason is in-

“But you can and should say no if you want to.” Aydın says firmly, cutting across Mason's train of thought. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Mason’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. Why does he have to be so damned genuine all the time? It wrenches his heart for a reason he can’t identify.

He makes a thrumming motion against his arm with freckled fingers. His grey eyes narrow then soften, the crinkle between his brows disappearing entirely.

“I’ll go with you,” he says finally.

Aydın peers at him curiously. “Are you sure? I really don’t want you to do something you’re not happy with. I mean it, you can say-”

“I’ll go with you,” Mason repeats. “I want to.”

The shining smile he receives is worth any discomfort he’ll have to go through later. Though, with Aydın there, he might not be uncomfortable at all. Mason can admit that to himself, at least. As much as it frustrates him not knowing why.

Aydın rises to the tips of his toes, his hands coming to rest on the line of Mason’s jaw. “Thank you, güneşim.”

He plants a soft kiss on Mason’s cheek. Aydın draws back and makes his way to his own room, a lightness in his steps. Mason watches him go, stunned into silence, using the wall as a backrest.

He touches the spot where Aydın kissed him. His heart rattles against his ribcage, a hot flush creeping up his neck. Aydın has kissed him there before (the only time he's kissed Mason, really), after they rescued Sanja, but something has changed since then.

It’s different. There was something different in that kiss. Such a simple motion, lips pressed against his skin, fleeting, but it’s left Mason even more confused than before. He wonders what Aydın's lips would feel like against his own.

It feels like the evening after the auction, where Aydın eased his nightmares just by being near him. They had slept in the same bed, side by side, curled into one another. A perfect fit. Normal. And more than what they were before.

Whatever that means.

It’s then that Mason realises he doesn’t want to go to the wedding at all. Not if it means pretending to be Aydın’s partner. Not if they have to part ways afterwards, back to how they were before without another word, constantly dancing around an issue Mason didn’t realise existed.

He wants it to be real.

And he has no idea why.

“Aydi, what the fuck are you doing to me?” Mason growls quietly.

He stays slumped against the wall for a little while longer, until the sun begins to dip beneath the trees. Finally, he heads off towards his room to find a nice shirt.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc mason #specialist agent mason #twc fic #twc detective #mason x detective #aydın çağlayan #maydın #my writing #tysm for the request!!!! they make me INSANE #they are both idiots ur honour #aydın has like... 3 aunts on his dad's side (including dead auntie dearest) and a bajillion other family members #so. fake dating... -> real dating am I right

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brother-genitivi · 1 year

Text

Olmayı En Sevdiğim Yer Senin Yanındır

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Mason / Aydın

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Mason helps Aydın wash the blood off his skin. He can't treat shock or the trauma that comes after a building collapses on him, but Mason can do that much.

Contains spoilers for book 3!

It’s been ten minutes since Mason burst through the warehouse doors, an unresponsive Aydın held against his chest. He had carried him to his bedroom and set him on the bed, only leaving reluctantly at Nate’s insistence. Felix sped off to find a doctor, Adam left to alert Agent Reyhan on her son’s condition, and Nate disappeared back into Aydın’s room with a plate of chopped fruits.

The second he left, Mason had to scrub his hands free of blood. Aydın’s blood. He couldn’t have cared less for the sting of the water against his skin; he needed the blood gone. Needed respite from that sickeningly sweet temptation.

Nate said Aydın was in shock. Mason can’t treat shock. What he can do is make Aydın’s favourite drink, so he paces back and forth in the warehouse’s kitchen and watches milk simmer in a pan.

It does nothing to stay his fear. His brain refuses to let himself be distracted, his thoughts replaying the scene of the building collapsing over and over.

He clenches his freckled fists. He can’t believe he was that close to losing Aydın forever. The thought of it hurts like a sledgehammer against Mason’s chest.

He grips the spatula in the pan until the handle shatters.

“Mason.”

“What?” he barks out, gathering the shards of the handle and flinging them into a bin. Mason relishes the pinpricks against his skin this time.

Nate approaches him quietly, his brows lowered with worry. Mason’s stomach twists. Things must not be good, then.

“It’s going to take a while to make the sa’alab; this is the real thing,” Nate explains. “I can take over.”

Mason’s words come out in a low hiss. “I’ve got it.”

He ends up snapping the spatula further with frustration.

“I mean,” Nate says softly, casting his eyes over the broken tool, “it’s going to take at least half an hour. You should go to him.”

Mason moves away from the stove in a flash, looking back once to see Nate retrieving a spare spatula and begin stirring. He’ll need to thank him later.

A small, furry object curls against his legs and trips him up. Mason glares down at the black cat. Lucifer stares back at him with wide green eyes, blinking slowly at him. He follows closely behind, likely as anxious to see his owner as Mason is.

They come to a halt in front of Aydın’s door. There’s a heartbeat coming from inside, too fast to be normal. Mason is glad he can hear it at all. He knocks.

There’s no answer.

Lucifer meows, scratching at the door. Mason hears a shuffle from the other side.

Still no answer.

“Aydi?” he calls.

A voice answers from within, small enough that even he with his enhanced hearing has to strain to catch the words. Mason opens the door to a dark room, blinds obscuring the windows.

Aydın sits with his knees to his chest. It’s the same position Mason left him in an hour ago. The plate of chopped fruits lies abandoned on his bedside table.

The scent of blood hits Mason’s nostrils. For a second, his mind grows utterly blank save for one desire. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, stepping inside.

“You still smell like blood.” Mason’s not sure why he says it. He hates it when people point out the obvious.

Aydın gradually wrenches his gaze from a spot on the wall to the rusted red lining his arms, as if only just realising it’s there. He begins to rub at his wounds, his dark eyes glazing over.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. That must be horrible for your senses.”

Mason slides his fingers over Aydın’s hand, stopping the rubbing motion. “I can handle it.”

Aydın nods. His shoulders tremble as they did when Mason found him kneeling amongst the rubble. Lucifer leaps onto the bed, watching intently over his owner.

Mason brushes a short black curl back from Aydın’s face. “What can I do?”

He needs an answer. Even if it’s a small errand. He needs to do something.

“Can you…” Aydın begins. He swallows thickly, his bloodied fingers coming to rest on the bruises on his neck. “Can you start the shower for me please? I’m so, so tired. If that’s okay.”

Mason can’t stop the relief flooding his face. He can do that.

“I can do that,” he affirms. He hesitates, not wanting to keep his eyes off of Aydın. Lucifer nudges Aydın’s knee with his damp nose, meowing as if to tell Mason to get on with his task. Mason manages a ghost of a smirk.

He tears his gaze away and strides to the bathroom. He yanks on the handle for the water, barely recoiling as it hits his arm. When the glass begins to fog, he retreats back to the bedroom.

“Thank you,” Aydın murmurs. He shuffles inside, his face tense with pain.

“I’ll wait here in case you need me,” Mason says. He sits himself in an armchair, his leg bouncing and creating a thrumming rhythm against the carpet. It's something he would normally yell at Felix for doing (the irregular sound makes him want to rip his flesh off), but he needs some kind of outlet for his anxious energy.

Not thirty seconds later, Lucifer springs off the bed, yowling outside the bathroom door. His fur sticks out at odd angles. Even before the cries of pain sound from the other side, Mason is on his feet.

A small thud has him imagine the worst.

“Aydın?” he says, unable to stop the panic creeping into his voice. “Aydi! Are you okay?”

Mason rams his fist against the door, hard. He’s ready to break it down if needs be.

The reply is strained, somewhere between a rasp and a sob. “No, I- ah, fuck! Sorry, I'm sorry. Can you come in? Please.”

Mason doesn’t mean to slam the door open. He rushes inside, finding Aydın slumped against the wall with his hands balled into tight fists. Red water swirls around him. Aydın’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut.

“What happened?” Mason demands.

Aydın rests his head against the wall before answering, his breathing shallow and rapid. “It hurts. More than I was prepared for. I got really light-headed. I just… need your help washing this blood off. If that's… okay.”

Mason enters the shower, his clothes soaked through in an instant. Without Aydın there, it would likely feel worse than it does.

Confusion briefly mingles with Mason's initial worry.

He places his hands on Aydın’s elbows, delicately hoisting him to his feet. His head rests back against Mason’s shoulder. Mason wraps an arm around Aydın’s middle, supporting the entirety of his body weight.

“I got you,” he murmurs. His fingers ghost a long but thin scratch on Aydın’s shoulder, silently asking for permission. He gets it with a soft hum.

Mason rubs at the dried blood stubbornly clinging to his skin. He tries to be as gentle as possible, wincing every time Aydın flinches.

He finds himself forgetting nowadays that humans can be so fragile. These past few months especially have helped Mason's belief that Aydın can withstand everything.

But he can't.

His fingers hover in the air over the indents on the side of Aydın's neck, marked by white scar tissue. They almost look out of place next to the bruises forming there. Mason is careful not to touch them.

He moves on to a small scratch on Aydın’s rib cage. He is extra gentle, knowing Aydın’s ribs must be tender from years of binding. The uniform, pink scars on his chest catch his eye for a moment. Mason drinks in every detail, determined not to forget.

He continues to wipe at the blood until the last remnants of it whirl down the drain. The torturous urge for a taste finally dissipates.

“That’s it,” Mason says. He can't help but feel relieved.

He tilts Aydın’s face up. This time his eyes are shut with bliss instead of pain. Mason stops the steady stream of hot water with one hand and grabs a towel with the other. He enfolds Aydın in his arms for a moment, drawing away again to properly secure the towel around him.

He says nothing about how Aydın’s heart rate increases.

“Need me to carry you?” Mason offers. It’s a short distance from the shower to the bed, but he doesn’t want Aydın moving more than he has to.

For the first time since they got back, Aydın smiles. Mason notices a slight dimple in his left cheek.

“Not if it’s going to be like that horrendous fireman’s lift you gave me one time,” Aydın says, sounding remarkably like his usual self. “But yes. Please.”

As Mason lifts him, he notes that Aydın seems more alert. He looks at Mason with a renewed clarity to his dark eyes. And something else. Something far softer. It confuses him even more.

The shock hasn't completely worn off, as evidenced by the shaking despite the overly warm room. That’s not likely to happen for a few hours, Nate had reminded him when they got back. Apparently he’s seen Aydın like this once before… after they rescued Sanja.

Mason tucks Aydın under the covers. He has half a mind to fluff his pillows, but abruptly stops himself. What the hell is he thinking?

He just wants Aydın to be comfortable. He'd do it for Nate (who loves his pillows fluffed).

He shrinks back, settling into the armchair he’s dragged to Aydın's bed.

“Mason?”

“Yeah?”

Aydın props himself onto his elbows. His face is marred by sickly purple bruises, his curls are dishevelled and he struggles to keep his eyes open, but Mason thinks he looks beautiful. Or rather, alive.

He's alive.

It truly sinks in how close to death Aydın was. It only would’ve taken one stray brick, one ill timed step as the building above him collapsed.

He's alive.

“Thank you,” Aydın says. He wrings his fingers. “No one’s ever… I mean- no one’s- you made me feel loved. That’s all. Thank you.”

His words are rushed, as if he’s reluctant to say it, to admit what he’s been missing. The simple confession threatens to rock Mason to his core.

Mason stares at him.

Loved.

It doesn’t have to mean anything. Or it does, but it doesn’t have to mean more than it needs to be. Except, what is more?

It doesn’t make sense. His lips collapse into a comfortable frown, frustration building inside of him.

You seriously confuse the fuck out of me, he thinks.

Aydın folds his arms, wincing at the exertion from the simple movement. “Now say something absolutely foul so I can stop worrying about you.”

I’m the one supposed to be worrying about you.

“I can think of a few ways for you to thank me, handsome,” Mason says. It’s forced. Maybe the pet name is a little much. But it makes Aydın laugh, a small sound that exposes his teeth in a wide grin, and Mason believes it’s worth it.

“You should get some sleep. You humans are-”

“-sickly things, I know.” Aydın rolls his eyes. He turns onto his side to look Mason in the eyes. “I’d rather not.”

Mason gets it. On the off-chance he manages to get to sleep, the nightmares are barely worth it. And from what Aydın’s been telling him, his nightmares are getting more frequent.

Mason reaches over to take the plate of fruit from Aydın’s bedside table. He wrinkles his nose, picking up a slice of watermelon and examining it.

“Eat something, at least. Nate’s making…” He pauses, thinking. “He’s making that drink you like. The Turkish one.”

Aydın lifts a brow.

Mason huffs with annoyance. “The milky one. Takes ages to make.”

“Salep?” Aydın offers. He bites down on his lip to hide a smile.

“Sure. He called it something different, but yeah.”

Aydın yawns, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. Mason watches his lashes brush his cheek and his chest aches with longing.

For what?

“I think,” Aydın mumbles, “I’m gonna sleep after all.”

Lucifer meows from the foot of the bed, stalking quietly to his owner. He manages to step on each one of Aydın’s internal organs on the way. He settles himself on Aydın’s chest, regarding Mason with a narrowed stare. The room fills with the sound of purring.

“Let me know when the doctor gets here?” Aydın asks, his voice heavy with fatigue.

“I’ll know when you do,” Mason replies. He shifts in the armchair, finding a more comfortable position.

“You will?”

Mason nods simply. “I’m not leaving you.”

Ever. Not even when you’re eighty and can’t make it up the steps anymore, he thinks.

Aydın seems to glow for a moment, euphoria lighting up his entire face. He smiles.

“Good.”

#twc book 3 spoilers #twc spoilers #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc mason #specialist agent mason #twc detective #mason x detective #twc fic #aydın çağlayan #my writing #soz the nonsexual intimacy makes me go insaaaaaneeee #'olmayı en sevdiğim yer senin yanındır' means 'together with you is my favourite place to be'#shower scene but mason's pov? i needed it so i wrote it #maydın #posted it to ao3 but may as well post here too <3

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brother-genitivi · 1 year

Note

19 or 22 for Mason and Aydın 👀

Nairuz my beloved, thank you!! I went for 19 - *“you are everything. everything.”

Rating: teen + up Pairing: Mason / Aydın Word count: 772

“Aydi, what the fuck was that?” Mason demands.

Aydın whips his head around to regard him with a narrowed stare. He presses his hand to his arm to stem the flow of bleeding from a shallow cut. “What the fuck was what?”

Mason is by his side in a flash, his initial anger (or is it fear?) dissipating almost immediately. “You’re hurt.”

He smells the blood before he sees it. There’s only a small amount, but it’s enough. It teases him, dripping from between Aydın’s fingers and overwhelming him with a tantalisingly enticing scent.

Mason shoves the impulse out of his mind.

Aydın shakes his head. The bleeding has begun to slow down. “It’s fine. Especially if it means you’re fine.”

Mason’s initial fear returns in full force, slamming hard against his chest for a reason he can’t fathom. He grasps Aydın by the arms, struggling to sift through his emotions as Aydın winces from a wound that should’ve been his.

He had taken a hit for Mason.

It sent Aydın sprawling across the clearing, his body making a terrible thud as it smacked against a tree. Mason easily dealt with the rogue supernatural afterwards, then rushed back over when the rest of Unit Bravo joined them.

It's the first rogue they've had to deal with in a while. No doubt Adam's kicking himself for being caught off guard.

“Don’t do that,” he snaps. “It’s not fine. You’re hurt.”

Aydın gives him a strange, inquisitive look. His fingers absentmindedly rub comforting circles into Mason’s arms. It does little to calm him.

“I’m okay, Mason,” he finally says. “I'm not bleeding anymore. The worst I’ll get is some bruising and that'll be it.”

Mason suppresses a groan. He can be so infuriatingly stubborn sometimes! He could give Adam a run for his money.

He shakes his head. “Don’t you get it? I wasn’t kidding around when I said that I wouldn’t be able to cope without you. You have to stop doing stupid shit like taking a hit for me when you know I can deal with it.”

Aydın yanks his arms back, folding them against his chest. Mason can hear his heart racing.

They stare in silence at one another, neither one of them backing down.

Confusion is starting to become an old friend for Mason, now. He doesn’t get why he’s so damned scared of the fact that Aydın was hurt in his place.

It’s because he's a member of the team, he thinks. But even as the thoughts form in his mind, he knows it’s because of some other reason. Something more.

Something that makes Mason utterly afraid that one day Aydın will dive in front of a blow meant for him and not come back from it.

Aydın breaks the silence. “I’m sorry if I worried you. But you need to understand that me being hurt so you aren’t makes perfect sense in my head.”

Mason makes a small noise.

“I just… did it without thinking. I’d do it again.” Aydın shrugs. He says the next part matter-of-factly. “I don't matter as much as you do.”

Mason approaches him slowly, grasping Aydın gently by the chin and tilting his head up to meet his eyes. He finds something soft in those deep, dark browns.

“You do. Of course you do.”

A mix of confusion and disbelief cuts across the softness. For some reason, that hurts Mason more than he expects.

Aydın doesn’t believe him.

“You're everything,” Mason says firmly. He traces the line of Aydın's jaw with his thumb. “Everything. Do you hear me?”

Aydın’s breath hitches. He opens his mouth to protest… and shuts it again. He nods slowly.

“Come here,” Mason mutters.

He envelopes Aydın into a hug, supporting the back of his head with an unusually shaky hand. His fingers bury themselves into the curls there. Aydın secures his arms around his waist.

He sighs into Mason’s neck, his breath tickling his skin. Mason doesn’t mind. It’s just another reminder that he’s alive.

“Sorry, güneşim.” He looks up from Mason’s neck, a real smile finding its way onto his face that causes a dimple in his left cheek. Mason can’t tell how many times he has tried to memorise it now.

Aydın’s gaze falls to Mason’s lips, then back to his eyes. It’s a gesture Mason has become familiar with. And just like every other time, Aydın pulls away.

But instead of leaving immediately, Aydın slides his smaller hand into Mason’s larger one. Their fingers intertwine, reluctant to let go, fitting together like a lock and key mechanism.

Meant to be.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc fic #twc mason #specialist agent mason #twc detective #mason x detective #aydın çağlayan #maydın #my writing #THANK U FOR THE REQUEST ILYSM <3<33

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brother-genitivi · 1 year

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hello 👁️👁️. i would like to request multiple (dozens) of facts about my favourite delikanlı aydın.

merhaba canım, thank u so much for this ask!

He has a torn earlobe from Murphy kidnapping him. Unfortunately, he was wearing long dangly earrings at the time, and thralls have no regard for his poor earlobe </3

His hair used to be waist length. It's only after book 2 that he cuts it a lot shorter, the main reason being to avoid having it grabbed during combat. And the need to reclaim some body autonomy, of course.

Aydın has quite a few tattoos! Three dragons on his forearm, a frog on the wrist of the other arm, a dragon that stretches down his spine and two more dragons that line his top surgery scars.

He likes dragons.

His relationship with Reyhan (his mother) is a strained one at best. He doesn't trust her. She wasn't there when he woke up from top surgery, she wasn't there during his recovery. But they have exactly the same eyes. They laugh at the same things. She still brings Aydın his favourite snacks. He loves her. He resents her. He can't deal with not being raised by her. He gets why she wasn't there. It's weird.

He's demisexual + trans. He's half Turkish from his dad's side and half Syrian from his mother's. Aydın's very close to his aunt (his mother's sister), but the rest of his family is very large so he's not sure he's even met them all.

Aydın has a little black cat named Lucifer.

He's fiercely protective over Douglas. Even more so after the events of book 3. He blames himself for what's happened to Doug. Aydın gives him the keys to his apartment at some point and they watch lotr every weekend.

He wants a Turkish style wedding if he is to get married. Spoon dancing, pinning money to the couple's clothing, the whole shebang. Not the car honking, though.

He knows a ton of languages, Turkish being his first. He knows North Levantine Arabic, English, French, Spanish, Estonian and Latin. Plus Tolkien's Sindarin Elvish because... why not?

Aydın can sing. He's a soprano.

He finds it very hard to fall for people, or so he thinks. Then Mason comes along and suddenly Aydın is feeling very real things very quickly, which is utterly terrifying. He spent half his life convinced that he is difficult to love (which is ironic because it's the easiest thing Mason has ever done). He's oblivious, but he also self sabotages by convincing himself that any reciprocation from Mason isn't real. It takes them a long time to actually get together, but the lines between friendship and romance are so blurred there's no defining 'we are together now' moment. It just... happens.

#asks #aydın çağlayan #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!!!!!#i'm mentally sending u the kadayıf i made tonight #gonna tag it as #maydın #bc of the last bit #TYSM!!!!! <3 #twc book 3 spoilers #twc spoilers #twc

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