#I hope someone reads these tags and realises I need mental help

[heaven4lostgirls]

hope (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, a little bit of comfort.

summary: the aftermath of reader leaving steve gives him clarity and has them both realizing that he needs to work harder to gain his girl back.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to come out, I’ve been swamped with uni work but I’m so happy you guys liked part 1, I will probably post a part 3 to this, which other characters do you ship reader with??? Steve is looking at some competition soon!

part 1 , part 2, part 3

tags: @nouk1998, @spngingerbread21, @blackhawkfanatic, @immyowndefender (if I wasn't able to tag you that means your tags don't work!)

Steve,

If you’re reading this, then you have realised I’m not staying in the tower anymore. Tony helped set me up in safe house for the next few weeks, I can’t stay here. You chose Sharon over me Steve and you must know that I can’t stay with someone who would choose another woman over me.

I need you to know that although it’s been hard for me to accept it, I understand. It’s not okay that you chose to leave without talking to me, but I understand if she is who you want okay? I am so grateful to have spent the last 3 years by your side, but I can no longer watch on from the sidelines as you look at her like how you used to look at me.

When I come back, hopefully I’ll be ready to talk, but I am asking you that if you ever held any form of love and respect for me, to give me this time to heal.

Thank you, Steve, for everything,

y/n.

Steve crumples your handwritten letter in his hand, the paper squashed in the palm of his hands as he throws back the bourbon in his glass. His eyes are red rimmed and his face unshaven. He has been a mess since you left a week ago, unable to move from his room, and spending his time rereading your letter hoping that he could find some small sign that you still loved him, still wanted him.

He was unaccustomed to this feeling of pain, when he got out of the ice, he assumed the pain of knowing that he had missed his time with Peggy was truly the worst form of torture but the agony of once having your love and affection and having it so brutally stripped from him, may just be at the top of his list.

He sighs as he uncrumples the paper to place it on his desk as he moves to lay back in his bed, he had been part of a repetitive cycle for the last week, working purely on survival mode before he’s interrupted by a soft knock on his door.

He knows better than to feel excited at the small hope of it being you however he knows that it’s Bucky and Sam checking up on him and bringing him food before they annoy him into getting into the shower. He can’t stand the look of pity in their eyes as they hand him his food, so he slams the door shut as soon as he gets it, placing it on his desk, he moves to the bathroom.

He turns the shower head all the way to cold, hoping it will bring some shock into his system, however because of his super soldier abilities, his immune system is fried and numb to the coldness of the water.

His eyes burn as tears roll down his face, sobs wrack his body as he pounds his fist into the wall in front of me which breaks at the force of his strength. He hears the door quietly open before he feels Bucky’s metal arm tugging him from under the water into a towel.

This has happened nearly everyday for the last 3 days, sometime on the first day, Steve had stopped acting like you abrupt leaving hadn’t affected him and broke down during his training session, to which Bucky had been helping him through his depressed state however all he ever really wanted was you.

“I want her back” Steve sobs into Bucky’s clothed shoulder as he feels his friend cooing and soothing him like a baby before he is gently placed on his bed. His body shakes with his painful sobbing as he feels Bucky rubbing his back. “I know Stevie, I know” Bucky sighs as he tucks Steve in after he exhausts himself from crying.

Meanwhile you haven’t been doing any better, your mental health slowly deteriorating at the acceptance of the end of your relationship with Steve. You had known somewhere deep down that throughout the past month whenever you had caught Steve looking at Sharon that this was the beginning of the end.

However now it was time for you to face the reality of the situation, you may have spent the last week crying your eyes out at sad romance films with ice-cream and chocolate  but you knew that enough was enough, you needed to talk with Steve and hear what he had wanted to say the day you left.

Running from your problems was not the best solution however you knew realistically you did not have the mental capacity to hear whatever Steve had to say and that it would only end up doing more harm than good considering how high strung you both were about the whole situation.

Now, as you step off the quinjet, you are greeted with Bucky’s genuine yet sorrowful smile. “Hi Buck” you greeted softly as you stood awkwardly, worrying if you could still hug him even though you knew he probably spent the last week comforting your ex-boyfriend. Not than you could blame him, they had been friends for far longer than the both of you.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before his smile widened as he pulled you into a tight hug, you breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into your friend. Your moment was interrupted by a loud voice chiming in from behind the both of you.

“Y/N!!!!” you and Bucky both separate, you with a look of amusement and Bucky with a look of annoyance. Peter’s joyful gaze found yours as he sprinted towards you. “I knew when you didn’t respond to the meme I sent you this morning, something was up!” he said excitedly as he spins you in a hug as a laugh bubbles out of you.

“Hey kid, yeah I was on a flight back from South Africa” you smile and separate from him before you see his joyful gaze darken at something behind you.

“Y/N.” you hear softly from behind you, and you freeze.

You turn around and place a polite smile on your face, not quite ready for the conversation ahead.

“Steve” you say and nod at him, he moves as though he’s going to hug you but thinks again and moves back and you’re somewhat grateful, you don’t think you’d be able to compose yourself.

You all stand in awkward silence for a bit before you break it, “I should uh” you gesture inside and he nods before he opens his mouth, “Can I help with your bags?” he asks nervously.

You were hoping to have a few minutes to compose yourself, but Steve is probably right to get the conversation out of the way.

As you both walk through the tower, you realise how quiet it is and make note to thank everyone for steering clear of the both of you.

As you both reached your old room since you had been sharing with Steve, you place you bag down before you turn to Steve who is standing sadly outside your room. “You can come in” you tease him and that snaps him out of his mood as he moves to sit at the desk in front of your bed and you sit on your bed.

“So” you both start before you motion to Steve to carry on.

“I love you y/n, I don’t want this to be the end, can we please work on this? I promise I’ll do better, and I won’t choose Sharon over you ever again.” He rushes out in what you assume is an attempt to stop the inevitable.

You smile at him in pity and before you can start talking you see him shaking his head as tears fill his eyes. “Steve, if you really wanted me as bad as you say you do, where was all this attention and affection this last month? Why did it take me leaving for you to realise how badly you fucked up?” you question and watch as he breaks in front of you.

The last week must have been hell for him, the same way the last month was for you.

“Please just let me try y/n, let me try please” he pleads as he moves from sitting in the small chair to kneeling before you as he grasps your hands.

You move your hands to grasp his face as you wipe his tears.

“Love, I will always love you but you need to realise how hard it was for me to sit here on standby every time you left me for Sharon, I need to choose myself for once” you confess and Steve sobs into your legs as you thread your hands through his hair as you try and calm him down.

You watch as Steve tries to compose himself in front of you before he looks into your eyes in determination. “I’m going to prove it to you” he says seriously, and you nod to placate him before he shakes his head in protest. “No, you don’t understand, I am going to prove to you how much you mean to me y/n” he says and some part of you is hopeful he tries as hard as he says he’s going to be this time.

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make it up to me Steve, you’re going to have to work for it” you say, and he deflates but nonetheless nods in understanding, realistically he acknowledges that he deserved worse treatment. He just can’t stand the idea of you finding love and connection with someone that isn’t him.

#juliwrites #steve rogers angst #steve rogers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers hurt #steve rogers hurt/comfort #steve rodgers imagine #mcu #marvel #marvel movies #bucky barnes #peter parker

[humberg]

Update.

Aaaah here we go. Hullo everyone, I'm not sure if any of you have noticed but I have been very absent the past week. Zero interactions, zero likes, zero reblogs, just zero interaction between both tumblr and discord.

I'm not usually one to talk about my struggles, especially regarding my mental health. I'm the type of person who closes myself off from the world, I will literally become a hermit and will refuse to acknowledge anything until the phase has passed. Unfortunately, it hasn't passed as of yet but I wanted to give an explanation or an update if you will on my absence. FYI I will be talking about very sensitive topics such as depression and suicide so please don't read ahead if you feel like you will be triggered by these. The last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable with something I want to get off my chest. So I've added a keep reading just to be safe.

Not many people know this about me, but I am the type of individual who will hide all my feelings and self-doubts from the public eye, it's just something my brain has accustomed itself to as I don't want to be a bother to anyone.

Due to this, I have a habit of letting it fester and grow to a toxic level up to where I reach breaking point. I admit that has happened to me recently, I had been neglecting the signs. Work has been an ongoing struggle in itself with my mental health and anxiety which is forever ongoing, there is also the recent random drama that appears in blips within the community that has been a major red flag for me to avoid. And I will admit that I honestly burnt myself out making that pose mod, to the point that I have not opened Cyberpunk since I completed it several weeks ago.

I became a danger to myself, and as a result without warning, I woke up one morning with a sense of no belonging, a loss of hope and motivation for my future, the dread of having to get through the working day, and zero enthusiasm to do anything or get out of bed. Depression is nothing new for me, but this was the first time that I truly felt like it just wasn't worth it anymore. Have I had multiple suicidal thoughts to find peace? Yes, I have. Have I or will I ever act upon these thoughts? No, I haven't and never will. I myself have had first-hand experience of what it is like losing someone to suicide and I would not wish that upon anyone. To reassure you all, I am perfectly safe, I have very supportive family and friends close at hand and I am receiving help on the matter. I just felt that I needed to let you all know, as this is a big part of my life and I don't want to hide it anymore as I realise it is just unhealthy.

I don't want to seem like I am attention-seeking, far from it. Mental health is such a delicate subject and not everyone will agree and see it eye to eye. If you find this update of me sharing my biggest personal insecurity looking for attention? Fine, as long as it gives you the accomplishment of being a better person than I am. I'm just too tired of facing this alone.

I also want to say that I am very, very sorry. I have been absent for over a week and each day I have felt the guilt of not interacting with the tags I have received or giving all your content the love it deserves. I have also been very much absent on Discord, The server is always beaming with life and banter but I just couldn't find myself to face it, not just yet. I feel it is going to take time for me to get better and make sense of it all, I may still be absent from tumblr for a while but do know that I love you all very much and I do miss you. This is just one of those things that cannot be rushed.

<3

#life update #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: suidice #tw: depression

[local-flower-girl]

sephiroth x reader request~

i wanted to know if you could base it following your “Seeking The Truth” oneshot; where reader and seph find his real mother after searching for her and it leads to a reunion and hopefully spiritual healing for our man <3

i also wanted to add in a second request of him finally being stable enough to want to start a family with the reader after everything that went down.

i was hoping you can include breeding kink, dirty talk, and possessiveness with fluffy aftercare?

------

I’ll be completely honest… this request had me stumped for a while! I knew what direction I wanted to go in but it always seemed to fall flat. I have rewritten this countless times because I was not happy with the first couple of drafts - let’s just say my original idea was not interesting to read… at all! Hopefully this hits the mark! As for your second request I will be writing and posting that separately. I have no way of tagging you, but you are more than welcome to send me an anonymous ask in relation to it.

Reader Warning: Depictions of violence

- Link To Seeking The Truth Part I -

Seeking The Truth Part II

Following the incident at Nibelheim you, Sephiroth and Zack had remained at the Shinra mansion in search of clues to Lucrecia Crescent’s whereabouts. Thankfully, within the dusty nooks and hidden spaces of the underground lab, she had left behind a series of notes detailing her research into Chaos and Omega.

The torn, yellowed pages threatened to disintegrate within your grasp as you carefully deciphered each piece of text. Amongst the information was mention of a hidden cave to the south of Nibelheim. It appeared that the location had originally been theorised as an emergence for Chaos.

‘Grasping at straws’ felt like an understatement. However with a culmination of hope and desperation, you were willing to hunt down answers any way you could.

———

That morning, before you had set out upon the journey, you noticed that Zack had been lingering beside the mansion gates. He captured your attention with a wave of his hand, pulling you to one side.

“I need to go find Genesis.” He said, resting his hand upon the hilt of his buster sword.

You nodded in response, understanding his intentions. Although the thought of parting ways with him pained you considerably, you knew that down the line, it was the right decision.

Aqua eyes met your own. He placed a hand upon your shoulder and his brows furrowed into a worried slant. “—You gonna be alright without me?”

Initially you were unsure if his concern was aimed solely upon the fact that Shinra would be hell-bent on tracking you down. However his pointed expression was a dead giveaway to his true reason for uncertainty. Sephiroth’s mentality. You would be lying if you said the doubting thoughts hadn’t crossed your mind. You had been keeping a close eye upon him, noting nothing out of the ordinary, bar a few minor headaches. He also appeared quieter, more detached than usual—but that was understandable.

“Don’t worry Zack, I’ll be fine. Someone needs to go back for Genesis.”

“I figured if we were able to change Sephiroth then maybe… there might be a way to help him too.” His shoulders tightened as he lifted the heavy weight of the sword onto his back. “You do realise Shinra will be gunning for us now right?”

“Yeah, figures…” You sighed. “Seems to be their general response for deserters.”

Zack plucked his fingers through his tousled hair, the hint of a wicked grin appearing upon his features. “The price of freedom is steep! Huh, what have we got ourselves into?”

You smiled at his obvious attempt at lightening the mood. With the sudden upsetting thought that you may never get to see him again, you threw your arms around his shoulders. He returned your hug and added, “I don’t know what you’re going to find at that cave but please—please be careful.”

After you both said your goodbyes and parted ways with your friend, you and Sephiroth set out on your journey.

———

The passing hours proceeded in brisk silence with Sephiroth appearing distant and uncommunicative. It felt like an eternity of trudging through open fields and grasslands. Your aching legs barked as the grinding pressure upon your feet became too much to endure. Noticing your slowed pace and heavy steps Sephiroth suggested stopping for a short rest. The forested area you had arrived at was abundant with high trees and shrubbery. It was sheltered enough to prevent an ambush from Shinra or prowling monsters. You settled down within a small clearing, nestled beside a running stream. Lifting the weight from your aching feet, you sat upon the mossy bark of a fallen oak. You sighed heavily with relief, the late afternoon sun filtering through the canopy of leaved branches, casting rays of heavenly light upon the flowing water’s surface. Blossoms filtered through the breeze, their pungently sweet scent tickling your nose. The air was crisp and the lush greenery was a refreshing change from the greyed, washed out colour palette of Midgar.

“Quite the difference from Midgar, don’t you think?” Sephiroth said, as if he had the ability to read your own thoughts.

You hummed in approval, heartened mostly by the fact that he had initiated a conversation. “You know… I could get used to this. The scenery, the calm, peace and quiet. Maybe someday we could settle down in a place like this?”

His shapely lips curved into a dreamy, bemused smile. “I can picture it now,” His eyes trailed upwards, appearing in deep thought. The green of his irises seemed to glow as they caught the light. “A quant little cottage, surrounded by fields and woods. A picturesque view of a mountainside within the distance, and beneath it a vast lake with a small rowing boat.”

“I’d want a garden with a cobblestone patio, a cushioned chair, fenced in by wild flowers and trees… where I’ll sit, read and drink copious amounts of tea.” You stopped to think as your imagination ran wild. “There’d be a stable nearby… home to two white chocobos.”

Sinking down onto the bark beside you, he indulged your fantasy further. “And what shall we call our two chocobos?”

“Hmmm… let me think…” You leaned back against the tree in thought. “The more docile and obedient one, I was thinking we’d call… Angeal.”

His smile widened at the sound of his friend’s name. A name that reminded him of better days and cherished memories.

“Then for the other—the feathered rascal—I think we’d call him…”

Sephiroth quickly interjected with, “Zack?”

You chuckled in agreement.

“It sounds perfect.” He replied, his sweetened tone caressing every fibre of your being.

His silver brows furrowed before he looped his strong, sturdy arms around your shoulders. Burying his face against your neck, he spoke, “I don’t deserve you.” His voice cracked with emotion. “All my life I’ve been living in darkness, but you—you are my light.”

“And you are mine.” You leaned back, grasping his hands within your own, softly running your thumbs over his palms. “We’re going to find your true mother, I promise. We’ll find out the truth together and never again will you have to live in darkness.”

———

You arrived at the bottom of an unstable path upon the edge of a grassy cliff side. Ahead of you stood the tall, foreboding entrance to the cave. Upon the outskirt, high grass moved like water as the last of the setting sun’s light shone down. Dusk’s orange hues gleamed brightly for a final time before you stepped foot into the gloomy passage.

The sweet melancholic sounds of a woman’s voice reverberated throughout the passageway. Further ahead the narrow hallway opened up into a massive area. It was unlike anything you had ever seen. A wide circular cave with crystal stalactites hanging from a domed ceiling. Gem formations punctuated the rocky walls and glimmered brightly as if caught by moonlight. Below you was a stretch of mirrored glass that echoed your brisk footsteps. With each step you felt your skin tingle from the permeation of foreign magic that occupied the grand expanse. There was a vast amount of reserved power that seemingly flowed throughout the geological structures.

Towards the far end of the spacious cavern stood a translucent wall encasing the body of what appeared to be a divine woman. She was undeniably beautiful, yet slightly intimidating. Maybe it was her detachment—her otherworldliness. Her hands rested delicately over her chest as if she were at peace. Her body appearing frozen, fixed in place. Her long lashes like brushes against her cheeks as her eyes remained shut. She wore a long, white, angelic gown and a sleek, translucent veil that cloaked her shoulders. Her skin was as white and pure as porcelain, her hair a rich shade of amber brown. It was evident that her imprisonment had shielded her from the clutch of time, preserving her fine youth and beauty.

Sephiroth extended his arm out, resting his palm against the crystallised surface. “—Mother?”

The room hummed with a euphonious voice in response. The vibration of sound shook throughout the cave, disturbing the debris and small shards of rock.

“How do we release her?” You asked, inwardly debating if it was wise to do so.

Sephiroth looked down at his blade, wrapping his fingers around the hilt. With a quick effortless flick of his wrist, he slashed at her entrapment. A quick succession of vertical flashes of light cutting through the air, slicing through the Mako crystal.

Amongst the glittering rubble, Lucrecia’s limp body fell forward liberated from her crystal cocoon. Sephiroth caught her within his arms, kneeling down to support her weight upon his knee. For a moment she appeared motionless. He brushed aside the stray strands of hair from upon her cheek and called out to her once more. Her eyes began to flutter, opening up to reveal a set of radiant, golden brown oceans.

“My… my son.” Her voice soft and harmonious. “I never got the chance to hold you after your birth… but now you’re here.” She lifted herself up steadily, to extend a delicate hand towards Sephiroth’s cheek. “How long I’ve waited for this moment.”

“Mother… I…”

She studied his face for a moment longer, “I’m so sorry!” Her arms quickly looped over his shoulders. “I made too many mistakes. This isn’t how things should have been. I never meant for—“ She shook her head, “I don’t deserve this. After all I’ve done.”

He looked at her like the words strongly resonated with him—like they had struck an empathetic chord.

He considered his words carefully “I’m just happy we’re together. I no longer wish to dwell upon the past.”

You heaved a sigh of relief, unsure as to how he would initially react or feel towards Lucrecia. He appeared at ease, possibly knowing the fact that his true mother was no monster—but a human being.

He gestured towards you, “Mother, this is (Y/N).”

You approached her, rattled with nerves at the thought of meeting his mother for the first time. “It’s lovely to meet you Lucrecia.”

She smiled, the light shying away from the elegant planes of her face. “Thank you (Y/N), for taking care of my son.”

You bowed your head, your shoulders tightening at the impending sense of dread within your mind. “I don’t want to appear rude, but you need to come with us. It’s not safe for us to stay here.”

“She’s right. Shinra may already know that we’re here.” Sephiroth explained, helping Lucrecia to her feet.

At the mention of Shinra, Lucrecia’s brows furrowed into a scornful look, but she nodded promptly. “Then we must leave.”

As if on cue, the crystal around you began to shake, and from the entrance of the cave came storming in an echelon of Shinra troops. It was only a matter of time until they caught up. No doubt pursuing your trail with the hidden agenda of finding Lucrecia’s hiding place.

You were now surrounded, the entrance blocked. Trapped in a crystal tomb.

———

“Ahh, a touching reunion.” Hojo stalked forward from the group of soldiers and infantrymen, slowly clapping his hands in a condescending manner. “I do apologise for intruding upon such a precious moment, however I have loose ends that need tying up—a trivial matter really.”

“You!” You felt as your blood boiled. Your body seething with each slimy step the Professor took. “What do you want?!” The animosity of your voice lingered upon its echo.

“As I mentioned previously—unfinished business. I can’t have this woman getting in the way of my precious research now can I?”

Lucrecia bared her teeth. “You’re a monster!”

“Oh I’m the monster?” Hojo laughed manically to himself. “Funny. Coming from a mother who made the decision to experiment on her unborn child!”

Lucrecia looked away in shame, unable to argue back.

“Enough!” Sephiroth’s bellowing voice echoed throughout the cave as he stepped forward.

“Step aside specimen, so I may deal with this wretch!” Hojo spat.

“I am not your specimen anymore! No longer will I live in darkness or let you snuff out the remaining light I have left!” Sephiroth held his ground, staring down at the old man a moment longer. His silent presence alone was enough to have half the infantry quaking in their boots.

Hojo spurned him with a putrid look. “How poetic… but I guess we’re now going to have to do this the hard way.”

With a sharp click of his fingers, two soldiers from the large group emerged, each holding what appeared to be oversized rail guns. A thunderous noise erupted as both weapons fired a barrage of electrified chains. Before Sephiroth was able to summon his blade, the hissing bonds were already clamped around his wrists, manoeuvring like snakes to wrap and ensnare the entirety of his body. He struggled against his shackles, yet the more strength he used, the tighter they would become, clamping down, crushing and tearing the leather of his clothing. He roared as the jagged chains lacerated and seared his skin.

You ran to his aid but stumbled back as infantrymen grabbed at your arms, restricting your movement. “Let go of me!” You struggled to escape their clutches, lashing out your fists in desperation. You cried out to him, “Sephiroth!” It was torturous to watch as he writhed and twisted in pain, unable to escape his binds.

Hojo stalked forward grabbing Lucrecia’s hair, pulling her head to one side to expose the paled flesh of her neck. She thrashed and wiggled with the small ounce of strength she had to escape his vile grip. He took out a large syringe from his lab coat pocket, removing the blunt cap with his teeth, and punctured the sharp needle into her skin. He proceeded to inject what looked like a neon blue serum. She cried out in agony, stumbling backwards to remove the syringe. She appeared weakened, her hands trembled and her eyes rolled backwards before she fell to the floor… her body lifeless.

“What have you done?!!” You cried.

“Now now… it’s just a little something I’ve been working on. Something to eradicate those pesky Jenova cells within her body. You see—“ He reached down the side of his belt, removing a firearm from its holster. “—any being that possesses these cells, cannot die.” He held the gun within his grasp, aiming it towards her. ”Let me give a demonstration.”

“NO!” Sephiroth yelled.

All time seemed to slow as he pulled at the trigger. A single bullet whipped through the air,  trailing between them. The bullet pierced her abdomen; the wound soaking through the white fabric of her dress with a darkened shade of scarlet red.

Your heart roared with overwhelming grief as your legs became weightless. You plummeted to your knees from shock. “You fucking monster!” You screamed.

“Ah yes—speaking of monsters.” He turned to observe Sephiroth who was completely powerless beneath the immovable chains. “I want the specimen transported to my laboratory. Further tests are needed.”

The infantryman whose tightened fingers had been digging into the flesh of your arm spoke up, “But Sir, what about the girl?”

“Oh her.” Hojo’s voice was an uninterested mumble. “Dispose of her.” He turned his back to you, gesturing his hand in disregard.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Sephiroth growled. You felt the coarseness of his voice tremble along your skin.

Sephiroth’s jaw tightened and his entire body stilled before he began to glow, a deep crimson rage, as if he had bathed in fire and brimstone. The chains that cut into his skin melted away, shattering into tiny fragments that burst outwards into the air. No longer restrained, Masamune materialised swiftly within his grasp. He lashed out in a heated frenzy, slicing the nearby group of soldiers with a single blow. The infantrymen at your sides cocked their guns towards you, yet within a blink of an eye Sephiroth had winnowed; like inky black smoke staining the air. A black, feathered wing protruded, extending out from his shoulder, sweeping around to protect your body. Their hail of feeble bullets ricocheted off him. And when they had exhausted their supply of ammunition, he bathed the expanse with their blood. The edge of his blade sang with each life he took. Any soldiers who attempted to flee were brutally cut down until the only soul that remained was Hojo.

Sephiroth glowered at the man like an aggressive cat ready to pounce. His jaw clenched, and an enraged guttural growl echoed throughout the crystallised halls as he leapt forward. For the first time you saw genuine fear within the feeble old man’s eyes.

Sephiroth wrapped his hand around Hojo’s neck, lifting him skyward, until his feet no longer touched the floor. He clenched his fingers, tightening, squeezing, choking.

“Turn away (Y/N).” Sephiroth ordered.

You did as he asked, closing your eyes. The long-winded struggle of desperate begging gasps and wheezing ceased with a bone splintering CRACK—followed by the heavy thud of his body hitting the floor. And then… there was nothing but a deathly, cold silence.

———

You shuddered at the sight of dead bodies strewn across the floor, at the streams of blood curdled around your feet. The rancid smell of death sickening your stomach. Before the bile had a chance to rise, Sephiroth wrapped his wing around you as if to shield you from the aftermath.

He leaned forward, his brow coated in sweat, his breathing uneven. “We should leave this place.” He murmured, his voice low. The darkness around him dissipated, and his fire quelled as he cradled you in a consoling embrace.

You latched onto him tightly, suppressing your brimming sobs and quietly nodded in agreement. You felt your bodies lift away from the ground, rising higher and higher. You left the cave, taking to the sky.

Within an instant the sight of land spread far behind you as his wing lifted you above the clouds and towards the star speckled backdrop of the sky. The bracing winds, brushed past your face, chilling the tips of your ears. Sephiroth’s body felt warm and solid against your own as he pressed you closer towards the strength of his chest. Glancing up at the angelic, handsome features of his face, you noticed the biting sting of regret and anguish. Glassy streams of silver tears lined his cheek.

#requests #oneshot #submission #request #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #fanfiction #ff7 #Final Fantasy 7 #fanfic #angst #sephiroth fanfiction #zack fair #reader insert #drabble #ffvii #final fantasy vii #freader #crisis core #lucrecia crescent

[cosmic-d1ce]

Okay I read as much tag as I could find and I'm just curious... BBH and fml au? I don't really specific questions, but like... there was a reference to him trying to help? or phil going to him specifically? I think? I read a lot of posts. IDK something. Invitation to ramble.

Bbh is overall one of the most sympathetic towards Phil, even when almost everyone else loses trust in him

Bbh is a very nice person so he doesn't want to just... leave Phil alone

But he loves the eggs. More than anything, in fact. So, when everyone is believing that Phil is the reason Tallulah lost her first life, he's a bit iffy

But he's still very nice and does go to help Phil if he thinks he needs it. Like when Wilbur came back and wanted to kill him for letting Quackity have Tallulah

Bbh does also have a crush on Forever which causes a few issues sometimes. It's incredibly one-sided and Forever doesn't even notice but it's a thing

Phil finds out about this at the Cellbit/Roier wedding, where Bbh confesses to Phil that he's jealous because Forever just proposed to Phil. Phil does not take too kindly to this and he isn't very fond of Bbh after this

obviously bbh doesn't know what is actually going on between Phil and Forever but that doesn't mean Phil is any happier about what he said. He has more than a few bitter moments where he wishes Bbh was in his place

Bbh is one of the few people Forever actually lets Phil hang out with tho so he cant be too mad at him or he'll lose one of his last threads of hope

Forever actually trusts Bbh a lot and Phil sees him very often. Forever and Bbh both want the eggs safe more than anything and most of their time together is spent talking about the eggs and ways to better protect them. They built NINHO together after Bobby's near-death experience (he doesnt die in FML) and both have stasis chambers for all the eggs in their houses in case NINHO somehow fails.

Bbh will tell Phil how Chayanne and Tallulah are doing as well. With Phil essentially out of the picture and Missa and Wil being so busy, Bbh ends up taking care of them a lot and Phil always likes to know how his kids are doing without him

I think my favourite thing that Bbh does in the AU is bear witness to Cellbit's mental breakdown when he realises that his best friend is a violent maniac and he can't stop it

Bbh just has to sit there and watch Cellbit yell and scream and cry about something he can't talk about. But

"If i told someone itd all be fixed!!"

"then tell me...?"

"NO."

Bbh is pretty much just a witness to the chaos that is unfolding. He's also very bitter and jealous that Forever is the president. More than he is in canon. Everyday he wakes up and thinks "god i wish forever didnt win the election i hate him and his stupid wife (phil)"

He's very chill tho he doesn't have anything against Phil like Fit or Wilbur do and when Phil does get helped, he is one of the most helpful and caring people.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp bbh #forever my love au #philever #forphil #qsmp au

[undercoverpena]

Hey there, I truly admire your openness about your anxiety, and I was wondering if you could offer any tips or techniques that have helped you, especially in the context of being active on this platform. Love your work!

tw: anxiety

hi anon! thank you so much, that's really nice of you. i deffo think i could be more open about it, but it's nice that I've been able to be open enough for you to reach out. i'm sorry it took me a day or two to get back to you, i just wanted to make sure i thought up/over things so i was being as helpful as possible! it's important for me to stress that my situation and my anxiety isn't going to be like everyone else's, and how i cope with it isn't like the "go to". but here are some things that help me (i am not claiming that any of these i came up):

creating a rainy day folder: bad days are a thing for everyone, but i know what things put me in a "stormier" frame of mind, and what i'm critical about. so, when things make me smile (comments, nice reblogs, tags, inbox, dms) i screenshot them and pop them in this folder. and when i need an extra boost (or some proof to fire back at my brain that it's wrong) i spend a bit of time in there. as it's me, it's highly organised HA! but, it deffo helps having the folder, and its reminded me, at times, why i love what i do here.

celebrate with cake: i'm a high-functioning person, who has super low self-esteem. for a good portion of my life (an embarrassingly large portion, honestly) good accomplishments were not celebrated. so, now i make a point to celebrate certain things with food (or books, if I'm reading a lot). one thing I've learnt with my anxiety is that it's easy to get into a cycle, and one way of breaking this is to stop and take the time to realise the milestones I've accomplished or how far I've come. just the other day, i took a walk to the shop and grabbed myself a chocolate bar. a year ago, i wouldn't have felt comfortable doing that by myself. and it's important to recognise those achievements when you've had a hard time. i also recommend everyone gets themselves cake when they finish a series (it's the rules, i swear).

learn about yourself: i'm going to be brutally honest and hope this doesn't bite me on the arse, but there are a lot of times i don't really like myself? i don't see the value i offer, i feel like i let people down, etc etc. it used to be worse, and one of the ways that helped me go from every day i didn't like myself to occasionally disliked myself, is by educating myself on me. I've spent a lot of time making myself small to fit in, I've done things others are into so i fit in to the point i wasn't sure who i was. so, when i had a menty-b (the name i call it), i sat with myself and learnt what i liked. music. movies. clothing. passions. hobbies. i have always written, but i wasn't necessarily writing things i loved. so, i changed it. i dated myself (a term lots of people use). i told my husband i was going to spend Friday nights with myself, and i did something i wanted to do. on my own. and in time, that helped with my anxious feelings and my fears about being online. because i spend a lot of time worrying about what people think, but by dating myself i could learn nice things about me - and that way, had things i could tell myself i knew were true: that i'm actually very nice, kind and really funny. it might not making pressing 'post" easier, but i can hold my chin a little higher?

set yourself a goal of happiness: we're all motivated by different things. sometimes, we make a mental goal to ourselves and it becomes blurred and distorted in numbers. but, if your anxiety (like mine) likes to have a thing to measure itself against, choose something that isn't numbers based, but happiness based. did someone tell you this month that your writing/art/gifs made their day? did something you say make them feel better? it's hard, it really is, and i know there will be people reading this and scoffing, but truthfully, one person telling me something i wrote made their day is all a jo really fucking wants. because i'm going to write regardless, it's a choice i make to share it. so, while i gave examples above, that isn't my current goal, but it was a goal i had, and as long as i try to remind myself of that it helps.

which leads me into, try to stay away from the numbers game which i know is hard. but it does nothing for an anxious mind. like, it's a fickle thing. moods change. don't base your worth on a number, you matter far more than it.

accept it's a part of you: this one is more about me, but since you're asking me i thought this is probably allowed. i have a long-term anxiety disorder - which took a long time to get diagnosed - and i have some other little... things that come with that. and for a long time, i felt broken. but, i was reading a self-help book (because your girl loves reading books about brains) and i realised that i have anxiety. it is already part of me. so i need to work with it. anxiety isn\t nice, it's not kind and it's really annoying. but it also makes me empathetic, it makes me care about the work i do (both here and in my day to day life), or makes me compassionate. whether you have it short term or long term, sometimes it's better to accept it's there, acknowledge it, but DON'T FEED IT. have the worries, and then halt them, tell them no. I've found fighting it before I've got the strength doesn't help me. but, waking up, knowing it's there, nodding at it helps keep it in check. this might not make any sense, but, you know.

and finally, the one i'm still working on is: i cannot fix everything and this is fun, so i need to ensure it stays that way for me. which i know isn't really a tip. but it's a good thing to remember. i am one person, it is not on me to check on every single person. it isn't on me to read every single thing. i don't have to engage with things i don't agree with, i don't have to say all my opinions. i can change fandoms. i can not post for a day/week/month. and all i have to do, if i want to, is offer my absolute best. that's it. it's hard. and it's tough to swallow. but sometimes, a jo just needs to be jo.

i am not sure if my rambling has been helpful, but i thought i could list these: plot your fic, find a buddy to talk about things with, surround yourself with good people. but I've said all of these. but the above are things i can do by myself. they are things i can control. and with anxiety, we're all just looking for the things we can manage, and so i based the list in that way. thank you for coming to my jo-talk, i'm going to go hide from being so vulnerable.

#tw anxiety #asked and answered #jo is not a doctor or a medical professional - she is just someone doing her best #be kind ive been vulnerable and i feel funny

[twentytarot]

good morning, you have 1 unread message!

my pac tag | tell me about the reading, suggest new readings, tell me about your day

PILE ONE: BREAKFAST

someone would like to give you some advice, but they don't because they're afraid they might be overstepping. you might not be familiar enough with this person, and they don't want you to feel bad about yourself. you seem to currently be in some sort of conflict, one that has trapped you for quite a while now. this is likely about your family and career. you very much need to break away from something— both emotionally and physically— but you're not sure how. this person seems to feel some alone time and solitude would do you good. you haven't had much time to sort your thoughts out, have you? you just keep getting into these small fights that take up all of your brain power and energy, but the root problem remains.

this person sees huge potential in you. they feel like a mentor of some sort, maybe a counsellor, professor or your manager. they feel that once you ground yourself and set your priorities straight, you'll have a huge upgrade in your mental state and life, and this will give you the ability to also scale up at work. they want you to know that you shouldn't be sweating the small things (but they sympathise, and that's also part of why they have trouble telling you all of this).

lastly, they want you to know that you have a supporter in them, and they'll be happy to lend a hand whenever. they just think you would find them too invasive and weird, so they just watch you from afar. it doesn't seem they think you need help either, per se, but if they can give reassurance or pointers to make your life easier, they're more than happy to.

PILE TWO: ICED TEA

this person wants you to know that they can't help but feel inferior to you. this manifests in different ways for different people— for some of you, you may find that this person lashes out often to try and get you, or undermines you frequently. for others of you, this person has decided to avoid you completely. some of you may have even liked this person a lot in the beginning, but this person turned against you quickly. they'd like you to know, for the sake of closure, that they turned against you because they perceived this gap in strength and success too big for them to handle. ultimately it looks like they truly want the best for you, and so they'd rather just... leave instead of resent you.

this person strikes me as maturely immature, if you will— like they're still in their beginning stages of adult life and they don't have much figured out but they're self-aware enough to know that they're still immature. i think it's entirely possible that this person will return, but for now, it's probably best that you take care of yourself first, don't try and be any less of a queen because you're afraid of stealing limelight, embrace your abundance. this person wouldn't want you hung up on them, they hope and think you were never affected by their presence in your life in the first place, and although that isn't true, for now you'll just have to make peace with the facts. they don't realise the impact they had on your life; you don't know when you'll ever get the chance to tell them. if you need to, talk to your maternal role model, whether that's your mom or someone else, about it. wishing you the very best!

PILE THREE: MIFFY TEA

this person is referencing an event that may have happened when both of you were younger, or, at the very least, they were quite young when this event happened. they'd like to thank you for the wake up call you gave them, unintentionally or otherwise. yes, you fought, yes, it was ugly, but they learned a lot from it. for some of you, i'm feeling this may be your first ex. they feel lucky that it was you that appeared in their life when they needed someone to smack some sense into them. they're glad you made them make a choice and commit to it; even though they resisted in the beginning, now they understand that life without these hard choices and commitments is empty. they'd like you to know that they've grown a lot since then and they're so much more independent than who you knew them to be. they like to think you contributed to this, even if just a little.

i doubt the two of you are in contact anymore, and that's the biggest reason why this person won't tell you this personally— they can't. however, they think of your memory with a lot of fondness, and sometimes they wonder if you think they resent you for the fight that happened, and they really wish they could tell you that they don't; not at all. they're grateful for the opportunity to grow, and they feel everything that happened was meant to happen and it was for the best. they have so much love for you!

PILE FOUR: INSTANT NOODLES

hi, and welcome to the romance pile! high fives all around, bring it in. i was honestly getting worried that this entire PAC would just be filled with heavy messages, but the last 2 piles have been a lot lighter than the first two. now, let's get the obvious aside: someone has feelings for you but won't tell you because they are terrified. this person feels very put-together, like they're always capitalising the first letter in every sentence, even if they're just sending a casual text. they're not the kind to reach out for no reason, and so the two of you have probably not interacted as much as they would have liked. still, they think you're really cool and they like it when you're happy.

they biggest thing holding back is that they strongly feel something has to change for a romance to be able to blossom from this, and they suspect it's them. this is kind of two-fold because yes, they're probably not going to have a successful romance if they continue guarding their heart obsessively the way they're doing right now, but they don't actually have to change to be in a romantic relationship, they're just panicking. i'm a little all over the place typing this right now, so i think they are too. i don't think they even know what they want to tell you yet, they just threw this whole jumbled up mess into the universe and prayed for the best (are they me??? lol).

overall, no rush. they're not ready at all. with their anxious personality and tendency to overthink, it'll be a long time before they're ready to face you head-on. if you know who this person is, like them and don't mind making the first move you could go for it, but if you're not then you could just leave things as they are and watch. things are pretty up in the air and up to the two of you right now, i'm not seeing that much divine intervention at this point. good luck!

#pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #free tarot reading #tarot reading #pick a pile reading #pick a deck

[tastyfishistasty]

13 years on Tumblr retrospective

Having looked through all the posts I personally made since 2010 I can see so many changes and so many things that have stayed the same. It's been sad and interesting and also some good bits!

The world spins ever on.

Followers and Following

My lovely lovely mutuals and followers have always been so kind and so helpful 💜💜💜, so many posts and conversations that I forgot, but were like little treasures to find!

It makes me so sad to know some of the people I interacted with so often are no longer here and I have no way of finding them. I miss them and I hope they are happy and doing well.

I've still never broken into having 100 followers, but those that do follow me are the best 🎉

Fandoms etc

I miss some of the fandoms I used to care so much about! Merlin, Bluestone 42, HTTYD, supernatural, Sherlock, Doctor Who, Brooklyn 99, Narnia...

Some I will watch occasionally, some not with a barge pole.

Then of course the big two that I can't touch anymore that make me sad because people are awful.

There's a post I saw about the first RTX UK which I couldn't go to in the end and I'm gushing about you know who and it makes me sick to remember how much I loved them. I watch Jeremy on twitch and I love him, but I can't watch the back catalogue anymore and I used to watch them on repeat.

I used to have the tag "Achievement Hunter is saving my life". And it did. It gave me things to look forward to and it was good and happy and positive and safe. But it wasn't. It's ruined and it's never coming back.

For the other one... I wrote fan fic, it was how I got into fandom at all! I made my own fandom merch (embarrassing as fuck now), but all that care and effort was not deserved by the creator and I hope she rots away and stops hurting people I care about.

Dragon age has been around for me such a very long time and I wish it worked on my old laptop now EA has updated their app thing.

My MCs have really changed and grown and I see so many mistakes and misunderstandings in my own view of the world, seeing how they've changed and I've changed is really rewarding!

Me!

Looking back at some of my OG posts, I was so good at hiding that I was ace. I assumed I was normal, I'd had a serious boyfriend!

Yeah no. You can track my nonsense as I figure it out, the "thirst" posts disappearing and my Sherlock phase was getting worse (yes, that's how I figured out what Asexual was, when someone said Sherlock Holmes was... the shaaaaaaame 🤦).

And by "thirst" posts, I mean "isn't X pretty? I like his face". That's it.

My dude, that is aesthetic attraction not romantic or sexual. You are asexual as fuck, stop trying to not be.

Then there's the "I'm double A not triple A, what a shame!" posts. Shockingly, wanting to be Agender too but feeling it can't be you, because it's only for people who know exactly what they are... is a sign you might actually be Agender.

It's both more complicated and not complicated at all with my gender, but Agender works and I like being a tiny battery, so I got here eventually.

Most recently there's the mental health side. I use a side blog for that, but it's still on Tastyfishistasty. It's so sad to look and see me trying so hard to fight my "atypical cyclic depression" and feeling so lazy and broken.

It was ADHD and emotional dysregulation, doc, not a fancy depression.

If my ear doctor hadn't said anything, I don't know if I'd ever have realised. It's scary to know how much of myself was revealed because I didn't actually have hearing problems, I have attention problems and auditory processing issues...

Thank you to anyone that has been on this journey with me, either my lovely followers and mutuals or just for reading this long post!

I'm not going anywhere unless they kick me out as they close the building, this post was born from finally receiving the "made 100 posts" badge and wanting to see how many I'd actually made. (It's 210 original and 15,090 reblogs... so Tumblr needs to learn to count.)

I wish I had time to back this blog up, or at least go through and find the important stuff I don't want to loose, but that's a lot of work and Tumblr does not like me going too far on my own blog, so unless there's a way to put it somewhere else to look... who knows.

Anyway

Thanks everyone 💜

And Tumblr:

#Tumblr #personal #retrospective #looking back at my blog #I've changed in good ways #the world has changed in both ways #i am both happier and have lost more than then #i didn't mention my dad #finding the rants about fathers day and his actions #don't help me #but it doesn't make it less true #he's dead #he can't change #i miss him #but he wasn't a good dad #thank fuck for therapy eh

[oddinary4bts]

Hope you’re okay Ella. Whatever it is that is making you anxious i hope it passes🥺

I’ve struggled with anxiety quite a bit and I’ve realised that there’s certain things that trigger it off so once i realised what those were, i avoided them or tried to find ways around them. As for coping strategies, when i can sense i’m starting to get anxious i do anything to distract myself so I’m not thinking about being anxious. I do things that make me happy and this usually works. I try and think about all the things i have to look forward too aswell. For example these past months when i was anxious, i would just think about TFS and how excited i was for the next chapter and that was my something to look forward to. Also talking to someone helps because it reminds you that you’re not alone. Listening to other people’s perspective helped me too because i eventually realised that the things i was anxious about were trivial and i was just overthinking if that makes sense?

Sometimes it’s good to take some time out for yourself too because stress makes anxiety worse and it’s a vicious, never ending cycle. I know it’s hard sometimes to not stress because of life you know but stress and anxiety can have lots of physical implications aswell and we don’t want it to get to that stage. I’m here for you if you ever need anything♥️♥️

Thanks for this bby🫶🏼 I’ll put my answer under the read more tag bc no one needs to see me complaining haha

Gosh I’ve never really struggled with anxiety but I have financial concerns right now (have had them for months tho) bc student loans and it’s just .. I feel like I’ll never see the end of it. Mind you I’m Canadian so I owe like 9.4k ish so it isn’t that bad but I do owe a few grands to my parents too and it’s just the worst. I can’t sleep/eat bc of it lately and I’m like bruh why, I’ve started working and things are finally looking up like why is it still making me so anxious?? (I do have health concerns too, nothing too serious but it still sucks and has an effect on my mental health too)

About coping mechanisms, I’ve always used writing as one and it does help but lately I’ve been so busy and I have barely no time to write (though I write really fast so in may be 2h30?? in total I wrote 9.5k for the tfs sequel) so I feel bad bc I don’t write as much as I wish I could... As for speaking to people, I find that soooo incredibly hard bc I don’t want to burden anyone you know?? I feel like everyone has their own thing to deal with and they don’t need my stuff on top of that

And yeah I really wish I had time for myself but next day off/for myself that I can have is next tuesday.. like :’)

Thank you so much for your reply🫶🏼 you’re right, talking about it does help! It’s just v scary to me (am I tfs jungkook woah)

I hope you are doing great🫶🏼 you deserve to be happy and smiling and always calm and relaxed✨ anxiety begone cause I’ll fight it with my own two hands🫡

#personal #i love you to the moon and back #and I am here for you!!! #always #anon ask

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

#ask #my terrible headcanons #elros #elrond #maglor #elwing #earendil #feanorians #niphredilien #yellow feathered faerie #putting your old url in the tags for archival purposes #post nyanyannya askbox clearout #ironically it turned out almost as long as the songfic that clogged up my askbox in the first place #and it is DONE #fuck this took forever to write #stayed up late just to get it out the door so i don't have to think about it any more #this is a long ramble and i'm pretty sure the end is just me repeating myself ad nausem sorry #i'll admit to a certain pro-feanorian bias in my interpretation #but i also don't want elros and elrond to just. live in a neverending horrorshow for decades #the silm's cruel enough we don't need that #narratively i feel like elrond being All Of The Elves is a good mirror for elros being All Of The Humans #but it didn't really fit the angle i was going for #bleck #let's see how many followers i lose for this

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

��I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

[thisbeatchachinglikemoney]

Just One Day

Part 11 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Someone from her past comes back

Warnings: Physical abuse, mental abuse, rape, swearing, kidnapping, hostage situation, suicidal thoughts

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18​, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles​

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys! Also, happy FESTA!!

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO GET QUITE DARK SO IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION OR DON’T READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Jungkook stretched and hummed in his chair as he saved the last copy of the song he was working on, his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach to the air conditioning that was circulating crisp, cold air around the room. He preferred his studio to be quite cold while he was working late as it would keep him awake, to the point where he would lose track of time and would only go home because one of his hyungs told him to either by calling him incessantly until he picked up or actually dragging him out of his studio.

He grabbed his bag from the couch behind him and began packing everything up quickly, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Y/N and love her with everything he had. He grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. It was just past midnight. His gorgeous girl had left just under two hours ago and he felt bad because he had promised he would be an hour at the most. He made sure everything was properly turned off and logged out. He pushed his chair back under his desk with his foot before moving out of the studio and locking the door behind him.

He knew that when he got home everyone would be asleep. They normally stayed up until everyone was home, but if Y/N had told the others that he was close behind then they would have gone to bed, knowing that he would be back soon. He said a quick goodbye to the night guards before moving into the parking lot and getting into his car.

He drove quickly but carefully back. The streets of Seoul were quite quiet since it was the middle of the night, but it was something Jungkook found quite relaxing. He loved the glimmering of the streetlights and neon shop lights against the dark sky. There were no stars tonight - it was too cloudy, but Seoul made up for that, the lights on the tips of the skyscrapers becoming artificial stars. He wanted to take Y/N out for a date like this, driving through Seoul and then eating junk food on the hood of his car somewhere secluded while looking at the sky and scenery, enjoying each other’s presence. He would do that with her soon, when his schedule wasn’t as hectic.

He pulled into the underground parking lot of the group’s flat and jogged to their apartment, not being able to keep away from his gorgeous girl any longer. He needed her in his arms. 

He unlocked the door and toed off his shoes, instantly being met with the sight of his hyungs sat together in the living room and no Y/N in sight.

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, getting up and embracing the boy before taking hold of his ear and twisting it. Jungkook yelped in pain.

“I was in the Golden Closet. Didn’t Y/N tell you?” Jungkook moved to cup his ear to help with the pain but Yoongi stopped his hand. “Speaking of, where is my gorgeous girl?”

“We thought she was with you, Kook.” Hoseok replied.

“But she left before me, like two hours ago. Sejin-ssi picked her up. She said she would come straight here, hyung.” Jungkook explained, biting at his thumb nervously. His head was instantly filled with negative thoughts. Which if their car had been hijacked by saesangs? What if they had been in an accident?

“Jungkook!” Yoongi yelled, getting his attention. “I asked you a question?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t hear you, can you please repeat it?” Jungkook took a shaky breath, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack.

“I said are you sure Sejin-ssi picked her up?” Yoongi repeated himself.

“I don’t know, I think so. He did text me saying he had got her.” Jungkook collapsed on one of the sofas, holding his head in his hands. “Hyung, what if they got in an accident? What if a saesang intercepted the car?”

“Hey, hey, Yoongi hyung, calm down, you’re scaring him.” Namjoon said, putting his hands on the older’s shoulders and sitting him down. “Okay, now, Kook you need to calm down, okay? Don’t panic.” He noticed the maknae’s breathing speeding up and tears streaming down his face.

“I should have left with her when she said she was tired. I shouldn’t have stayed later. I just wanted to finish the song. It was me who suggested it.” Namjoon sighed and sat down, pulling the younger boy onto his lap.

“How about we call her? It’s most likely that she asked Sejin to stop for ice cream or something like that. You know how much of a sweet tooth she has.” Namjoon suggested, rubbing the maknae’s back to calm him down. He hated seeing him this upset. 

“We can’t call her. She left her phone.” Jungkook said. “I should have followed her. I should have chased after her and given it to her when I realised she had left it. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” More tears poured down his face, his doll-like lips becoming pouted. 

“Hey, no, you aren’t. We’ll just call Sejin, okay.” Namjoon reassured him. “Jungkook, you are not a terrible boyfriend. You are amazing. She loves you so much.” Namjoon looked over to the rest of the members. “One of you call Sejin-ssi. I’m going to get Kookie some comfortable clothes and then try and calm him down, okay?”

“I’ll call him.” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone. He tapped a few things on the screen and put the call on speaker. The ringing tone filled the room for a few moments before someone picked up. “Sejin-ssi?”

It was silent before someone spoke. Someone who was definitely not Sejin. “Hmm, no, how about you try again?” The person replied, making Jimin look up at his hyungs with wide eyes. 

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi asked, his voice firm and serious. There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone and a noise that sounded like a whimper of pain.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” The man sounded menacing. Jungkook gulped and looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes full of fear. Yoongi looked like he was ready to murder someone, and Jungkook knew that he was going to take the main brunt of his anger.

“Jackson?” Yoongi had no emotion in his voice. This happened when he was really scared or really angry. It was like his body shut down any way he could be seen as weak. 

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” His voice was quieter like he wasn’t talking into the phone. “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” There was a loud thud and a cry of pain.

“Jackson stop! Please!” They heard you beg. Jungkook bit his lip, not wanting to hear his girlfriend being hurt and not being able to do anything about it. 

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” There was a slap and a stifled shout. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.”

“Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.” Yoongi shouted just before the call was ended. There was a beep. Jimin shouted in frustration and threw his phone across the room.

“This is all my fault.” Jungkook whispered to himself.

“Damn right it is!” Yoongi shouted, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. “Why would you not go with her? How could you let her go by herself! What the actual fuck, Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-” 

“You never do! You only do what you want to do! You’re so selfish, Jeon Jungkook!” Yoongi was seething. Jungkook gulped. “Your sorry doesn’t fix anything! She is gone! She is back with that pathetic excuse for a man and is probably not going to make it! You know what she told me? If she was ever with Jackson again, she was going to kill herself! So tell me, Jungkook, what are you going to do? You’ve sent her down the river to her death! Because of you, she’s going to die!”

“Hyung!” Namjoon yelled, making Yoongi drop Jungkook. The maknae skittered away. There was a slam and then silence. “What the hell are you doing? You know how sensitive he is!” Namjoon was angry. 

“Jackson has her, Joon. He intercepted Sejin and kidnapped her. He was beating her on the phone.” Yoongi’s voice was shaky. “And it’s all Jungkook’s fault. He should have left with her. He knows that Jackson is out there!”

“How the hell would Jungkook have known Jackson would have the balls to do something like this?” Namjoon asked with an edge to his voice. “He called Sejin to make sure she wasn’t walking home by herself! If he really didn’t care about her, he would have let her make her own way home.”

“If he cared about her, he would have taken her home himself!” Yoongi wasn’t having any of it. In his eyes, Jungkook was at fault here. 

“Look, you’re angry and scared. We all are. But that does not give us the right to argue with each other. We need to stick together if we want to get her back.” Namjoon said, remaining calm. He had to. If he fell apart, they all fell apart. “You need to go and cool off. Go to your room and calm yourself down, and then you need to apologise to Jungkook. You’re his hyung, Yoon, and he needs you right now.”

Yoongi looked at his younger member and sighed. Namjoon was right. They couldn’t afford to be arguing with each other. It would make everything a whole lot worse.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet. 

“Come on, hyungie. I think you need some Jiminie cuddles.” A small hand took his and pulled him up to his room. “Namjoon hyung, can you call the police, please.” Namjoon pointed to his phone and nodded. 

Jimin lay down on Yoongi’s bed and opened his arms. “I’m the big spoon this time.” He said. Yoongi nodded and climbed onto the bed, settling into Jimin’s arms. It was then he allowed the wall to come down and dissolved into tears.

“She said she was going to kill herself, Min.” Yoongi sobbed. “She said she wouldn’t be able to handle being with him for any longer. I don’t. I can’t deal with losing her. I won’t be able to deal with losing her.”

“It will be okay, hyung. Joonie hyung is on the phone with the police now and since he has Sejin’s phone, they will be able to track it and see where they are. PD-nim had a tracker installed into the phone that can’t be turned off in case Sejin ever got kidnapped or we did. They’ll find her.”

“Yes, but if they find her, will they actually find her, or will she just be the shell of herself?” Yoongi said, resting the side of his head on Jimin’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

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

Silence. Darkness. Pain. 

The never ending cycle that Y/N was going through. Whatever Jackson had used to knock her out had caused the worse headache. It throbbed, each wave of pain being stronger than the last. She winced as she came around.

Her eyes felt like they were glued together. She tried to open them, but failed. Her eyelids felt too heavy. She also knew that if she opened them she would be faced with the impending doomed reality she was forced to deal with. The reality where she was back with Jackson and had been ripped away from her happy life with her boys.

It was then the most horrible thought flashed through her mind. What if it had all been a dream? What if she had made it all up? Those months where all her fear for Jackson had fizzled out, thinking she was safe? It was a false sense of security. In what world would BTS, the biggest boygroup in the world, be her soulmates? In what world would she deserve seven soulmates? There would only be one way to test if it was real. She had to open her eyes and see if everything was greyscale or full color. 

She tried to open her eyes again, but failed. Had he glued her eyes shut? She reached up and felt along her eyelashes. It was crusty but it wasn’t sticky. She pried open her eyelids, pulling them apart with her fingers. She hissed slightly. 

Her eyelids were unstuck now, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to open them if the past months had just been a dream. Just open them Y/N, she thought to herself, just open them. You never know. 

“Please don’t be grey. Please don’t be grey.” She whispered to herself, gingerly opening her eyes.

She looked around, realising that she was back in that bedroom. Her mother’s lamp was still on the bedside table, although there was a small dark brown stain on it now. Dark brown. That was a color. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going well. 

“Look who’s up.” A voice drawled. She looked over to the door and saw Jackson lounging against the frame, a belt idly swinging between his fingers. She gulped.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She glared at him, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head. 

“Because I love you and you love me.” Jackson shrugged. “You belong with me, not with them.”

“I don’t love you, Jackson. I haven’t for a long while.” She spat.

Jackson gasped animatedly. “Someone has some nerve talking to me like that. Where are your manners? Guess I need to teach you again. Kneel and face the bed.”

Y/N ignored him, trying to stand up to him and show him that she wasn’t weak anymore and that she knew her worth and wasn’t scared of him. He slapped the belt across her face. Thankfully he was holding the buckle, but the impact still hurt. She cried out as he pulled her up by her hair and forced her into a kneeling position.

“Listen to me, stupid bitch.” He hit her harshly with the belt. “Just a few months away from me and all your training is gone. Looks like I’ll just have to be harsher with you.” He added a few more hits before throwing his belt somewhere else in the room. “Get on the bed.” He pulled her up by her hair, making her hiss in pain. “Now if you make a sound, I will make this so much worse for you.” He threatened.

Y/N gulped and nodded, allowing him to force her into a position on the bed. Her back and shoulders hurt so much. He forced her onto her hands and knees. He groaned. “Now that is a sight I have missed.” He rubbed his hands over her ass.

Y/N’s heartbeat sped up and her breathing quickened. Was he about to rape her? She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed onto her hips. “Stop!” He shouted, hitting her back over one of the open wounds from his belt. She cried out and crumpled forwards. He pressed his hips against her. “See how much I’ve missed you.” He was hard against her. She didn’t want this.

“Get away from me. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“I said no talking!” A harsh smack to her inner thigh followed before he ripped off her panties. She silently scolded herself for wearing a skirt. If she had been wearing jeans she would have been able to fight against this better. She would have had more time. She sobbed as she heard him push his jeans down. Before he could do anything to her, a phone started ringing.

“Fuck sake.” He groaned, answering it as he stroked over her lower back and thighs.

“Sejin-ssi?” It was Jimin. Y/N felt some relief flood through her body. She knew that Sejin had an unremovable tracker built into his phone that could not be switched off and she knew Jackson had no knowledge of it. Jackson dug his nails into her skin before he spoke.

“Hmm, no, how about you try again?” Jackson smirked, knowing he had full power here. 

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi sounded angry. Y/N knew that he was not going to rest until he found her. 

Jackson set the phone down and whispered into Y/N’s ear. “If you say one thing, I will kill you.” He threatened. “Now, shut up and be good.” He chuckled as he picked up the phone, pushing into the poor girl. She whimpered, the dry friction hurting her.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” Jackson rolled his hips against her, making her bury her head and cry. She didn’t know if they could hear her.

“Jackson?” Yoongi figured it out, but Y/N had just switched off. She hated this. She wanted out.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” He reached down and grabbed his belt again.  “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” He brought the leather down against her skin, this time not holding the buckle. She felt the metal tear open her skin, leaving fresh wounds that would sometimes go over the ones he had already done. It hurt so much. Y/N just wanted it to be over. She couldn’t do this again. He hit her again, making her scream out in pain.

“Jackson, stop! Please!” She yelled, her hands curling in the sheets to relieve some of the pain.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” Jackson slapped her before grabbing his belt and wrapping it around her neck tightly. She could feel her air supply being cut off. She released a stifled scream, clawing at the leather around her neck.  “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.” He said into the phone.

Before he could hang up, Y/N heard Yoongi talking directly to her.  “Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.”

“Yoongi! I love you all too!” She yelled but Jackson had cut the call.

“Now... where were we?” He sounded menacing. Y/N sobbed as she felt him begin to move.

But now she had that small glimmer of hope that they would be able to find her. One day she would be out of here and she held onto that. For them.

#sub!reader #sub!taehyung #sub!jimin #sub!jungkook #switch!jin #dom!hoseok #dom!namjoon #dom!yoongi #bts ot7 #bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #boys with luv #soulmate au #just one day

[buckmepapi]

really need to talk about something real quick but what the fuck?

tw below for seriously fucked up fic writers writing things that no one should be reading  

i was on ao3 last night and i clicked the noncon tag bc tbh ive been reading more noncon stuff and enjoying it i think it’s because ive been victim to a non con situation myself but also ive been victim to prolonged physical and mental abuse and have c-ptsd because of it so when im reading a reader fic that features it for me it feels cathartic and i enjoy it bc its like im in control? idk if that’s how others feel but yeah 

so any fucking way, im on there searching through that genre because i didnt know you could, so then i discover you can filter it through fandoms and relationships etc, so i couldnt see a reader one at first so i filtered with original characters bc sometimes people on their mark reader as both reader and original characters but when i did that all that was coming up was original work and i was like goddamn it, i scrolled through but i cant for the life of me read original work like that bc it doesnt feature a reader, so it’s not me and so it’s not me in control like it feels fucked up reading about someone else going through it if its not me who WANTS to read it anyway i come across one that had the most disgusting title after i realised what it was about and no im not going to repeat it, i look at the tags and i think is that really what i fucking think its about like????how are you still alive after writing something so vile like you actually deserve to have your head bashed in and so does everyone who even likes it or reads it...

i click on it, because i noticed it had comments, i scrolled all the way down so i couldnt see any of the fic bc honestly no id rather not subject myself to something so heinous like i just wanted to see wtf these people are saying in the comments because this is the first time my new to fanfics reading and writing ass has ever ever heard of this i was not even aware it was a thing at least i hope its fucking not and this was just a one off person who did this, but literally all of the comments were people saying “that’s so hot” etc and other shit, and only 4 sane people obviously seeing it bc they follow the non con tag i guess? and commenting on it saying “what the fuck is wrong with you” , “you should be in jail” and other insults and im just mortified that someone would write about something like this and people enjoy it????

i didnt even read it and i feel ill because i unwillingly saw the tags and title and that alone has made me feel triggered and i just my mind can not comprehend that there is a select group of people in our community that write about this? is this a thing? i actually want to cry like legitmately its upset me 

so after that i discovered you can exclude tags, so i excluded the underage tag which i didnt even know was a fucking genre, but this person wrote an extremely underage fic like im talking smut about you know, im not even going to say the word in the same sentence like how is that allowed on ao3????? how are these people allowed to breathe? if you’re writing about that why are you thinking about innocent kids that way??? are you having thoughts like that around kids???? seek fucking help immidiately??????? like why is this allowed on the site????? those tags should be banned because i did not want to fucking see those tags at all 

idk im rambling because i cant comprehend this, is this really a thing???? why are these people allowed to live????? who writes about babies, yes babies was apparently what it was about according to the tags, but im not fucking reading it to check and judging by the 4 sane comments i saw it was actually about that 

i dont even know what to say, fuck this person who wrote it, fuck the people who read it, and fuck ao3 and its creators for allowing that on the site and those disgusting tags - tags dont work to warn people if the tags themselves are triggering fuck you you horrid cunts 

#serious trigger warning #trigger warning #content warning #cw #tw #tw ab*se #cw ab*se #buckmepapi #k; #rant #vent #rantvent #rant post #vent post

[mirohtron]

in the end (it does matter)

—

anonymous asked: Can you make a part 2 to lonely?👁👁

@sweet-sinner69 (tumblr pls let me tag them) @why-am-i-on-this-website-anyway and @selectivegeekwithstandards also requested for a part 2 hello im sorry for the tag but i spent four days on this i will not let my work go unseen /lh

first part here.

—

They didn't know how it exactly happened, but one second they were on the floor of their apartment, sobbing, begging hero to not hurt them, and then next they were sitting in the booth of a McDonald's, patched up as good as hero could do.

Plasters covered some cuts on villain's hands, the ones that hadn't scabbed over yet, and underneath their sweater, the gash on their arm was firmly wrapped with bandages.

It all happened too fast; villain's mind had been going a mile a minute, and hero had to calm them down and promise they wouldn't hurt them, and, in an attempt to not stay alone with hero and get kidnapped somehow, villain had requested they go outside. More like beg. Unprompted.

That was why hero was in their apartment in the first place, right? To get villain to hero's base? Or maybe eliminate them? Villain couldn't stomach that. Being in their room with hero had been near-asphyxiating, and villain's agency had told them time and time again that the heroes wouldn't hesitate to eliminate villains.

It was why they'd brought the two of them to the mall and made hero sit in a McDonald's booth with them. There were people. A lot of people. Hero wouldn't try to kidnap them in here, hopefully. Probably. They looked professional, trained for this. They wouldn't try anything that could harm civillians.

Something in villain's chest twisted. Something regretful, something pained.

They wished they were one of those civillians.

"Do you wanna order?" hero asked gently, hands at their sides and under the table.

Villain opened their mouth to answer, but their breath caught in their throat. Did they? They didn't know if they had an appetite or not, and eating with hero could still risk being sedated and taken to hero's base.

Their left hand furled into a fist.

"I—I don't have any money," they finally answered, voice a little raw. They'd forgotten to pick up their wallet in their hurry to toss their sweater on, not wanting to risk any stranger worrying about their bandaged arm. People were too kind sometimes, and even if that societal trait could help somebody, villain didn't want to risk anything.

"That's fine," hero assured, "I don't mind a little spending. Do you wanna check out the menu?"

Villain swallowed. They didn't realise their answer could count as a "yes."

Their gaze locked onto some part of the table between them, debating.

"...how did you get in?" villain asked instead. The question had been prodding their mind even before they had realised it was hero they were crying to. Were they that horrible at keeping their location a secret? Wouldn't that mean other heroes knew their location, too? What about villains?

Their blood ran cold.

"One of my colleagues placed a track you."

If possible, their blood ran colder.

"What?"

"They're a telepath," hero explained, seemingly not noticing villain's internal panic, "they put a tracker of sorts on you. Your location was determined from that."

Villain's throat felt parched. Did that mean the telepath could read their mind? Could they read their mind right now?

Some salty taste settled in the back of their mouth. They felt horribly seen. It was uncomfortable.

"Is it still on me?"

"No." Hero shook their head. "They took it off once we learned of your location."

"Oh." Villain looked at the few plasters on their knuckles. Maybe hero was lying, maybe the tracker was still on them. But they couldn't be sure. Hero hadn't tried anything malicious yet, they didn't look like they'd even hurt villain right now.

Perhaps it was because there were civillians here. They looked at one of the tiny scabs on their skin. Hero had hurt them in fights before, what would stop them from hurting villain later? What if they got home, and hero was there to beat them bloody?

They felt a little sick.

"Hey," hero said after a moment. Villain looked up, and they couldn't see a hint of malevolance in their expression. Hero looked a little guilty, on the contrary.

Hero glanced at villain's knuckles. "I—I didn't... know you were so scared. Of me." They looked at villain's knuckles again, brows furrowing, swallowing. "I was—I didn't... I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Hero pursed their lips. They looked like they wanted to say something else, like they wanted to protest against villain's words, like they should be sorry, but instead they nodded, looking down at their lap.

Villain pressed the tips of their fingers up against their palm as the silence between them grew heavy.

"Why were you in my bed?" they asked next.

"You pulled me."

"...what?"

"I was expecting you to be awake," hero said, "but you were asleep. Then you, uhm, you pulled me. To the bed. I didn't want to wake you because you looked tired."

Villain pulled their hands to themself, wanting to look smaller. "Oh."

Who does that? Villain wanted to hold their head in their hands. Of course, their touch starved self would do that. Of course, since they hadn't had a nice touch in a long time, their sleeping state would want someone. They wanted to ask how long hero was stuck like that, hoping that maybe they awoke soon after, but instead,

"Why were you sent?"

that came out.

Hero laughed, like they were nervous. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually," they said, looking them in the eye, "after you'd eaten something. I wanted you to be a little more relaxed."

Oh. Villain's breath hitched. No one really thought about their comfort anymore. They weren't expecting their archenemy to.

Tears pricked at the corner of their eyes, but villain desperately blinked them away. Oh.

Hero didn't seem to notice. They shifted in their seat, putting their hands on the table. "They told me you were harmless," they said, "after my colleague took away the mental track, they... We know it was an invasion of privacy, but."

Villain's stomach hollowed out. They read their mind, didn't they? Villain supposed they had to. Of course they would, if they were given the opportunity. All they knew was that villain was some spiteful nobody.

"You don't want to be a villain, do you?" they asked, searching villain's face for something.

Villain bit their bottom lip to stop it from quivering. They shook their head, fingers digging into the leather of their seat. They absolutely didn't. They'd choose to be a civillian over a villain over and over again, if they could.

"They said you couldn't handle it."

"I can't." Villain sniffled dryly, looking away. When had they started crying again? "I really can't."

"It'll be okay," hero said gently, "we want to take you in. For reforming. Do you want in?"

Villain's gaze snapped back up. Reforming?

They searched hero's face, looking for a lie. They hoped hero wasn't lying. Hero wouldn't lie about this, right?

The agency had always told them that heroes wouldn't want anything to do with villains. Maybe the agency was lying. They had to be, because otherwise hero would have taken villain out the second they'd laid their eyes on them, right?

A sob broke their throat, and hero had rounded the table and was by their side in an instant, holding them close and stroking their hair. Reforming? Could they be safe as a civillian now?

"I don't wanna get murdered in a dirty street corner," they said quietly, hiding in hero's neck again. They sniffled, fingers clutching their shirt desperately.

"I know, we’ll handle that for you," hero said, rubbing circles on their back soothingly, "I suppose that's a yes?"

Villain nodded, sobbing harder somehow. "It is," they said, "it's a yes."

They wouldn't have to hurt people anymore. That was good. It would be fine. 

Hero told them it would be alright, that they'd just done what they needed to to get by, that they could leave villainy behind, and that the butterfly effect wouldn't be cruel to them anymore. Bad things wouldn't pile up anymore, and they wouldn't have to use their powers to hurt ever again.

“Do you wanna order?“

“Yeah.“

In the end, they got a free McDonald's meal and a lot of nice touch.

#kyles.writing #lonely.series #please tell me someone understood the linkin park reference in the title #guys they got a free mcdonalds meal because everyone thought they proposed ok #i just didnt wanna ruin the moment by saying everybody was clapping #i mean i ruined the moment the second i started writing this but eh #writing #my writing #hero x villain #writeblr #writers on tumblr #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #villain x hero #out of ink #continuation #spilled ink #part 2 #lonely pt.2 #hope this sufficed! even tho i hate the pacing #im so sorry #why do i suck ass at pacing #hurt and comfort #hero x villain snippet

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 5 ~Roses and Thunder~

Previously in Maybe Baby ...

"How do ye feel?" 

She rolled over and summoned herself to tell him what's on her mind. "I-I feel good ..." 

The light in his eyes dulled at her dithering. "There's a but coming. Tell me what's bothering ye. Maybe I can help," he offered.

She shut her eyes."There's something I've meant to ask you. I know it's a big ask, but ..."

"Out with it, Sassenach," he pressed gently.

She held on to their connection generated by the intimacy of the moment. "Do you think you can take some time off to come to London with me for Hawkin's book signing? It's just that ...I-I really need you to be there ...by my side."

To her surprise, a slow smile formed his lips. "I can do that."

She let out a sigh of relief but wished she could articulate to him why she wanted him to come other than the fact she loved having him by her side. She reasoned there had been enough revelation for one day, but she knew it was just a feeble excuse. She needed to come clean even if her troubles seemed inconsequential, but it would have to be for another time. 

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Tom found a vacant slot in the parking area at Inverness airport and neatly pulled in between a van and an SUV. Claire took out her compact mirror from her bag and checked her hair. It was a muggy day, and she'd heard on the news earlier it was forecast to rain later this afternoon. She sighed as she smoothed the unruly tendrils back. There was no use. Her dark curls almost always went impossibly frizzy in the humidity. Feeling way too chipper to worry about the state of her hair, she quickly dabbed on some lipgloss and checked her phone. 

"We're slightly early," Claire observed absentmindedly. "Are you sure you don't mind tagging along for my dress fitting?"

When Claire had heard Mary Hawkins was on the same flight as Annalise, she'd offered the author a lift with an invitation to attend her dress fitting before heading to Broch Mordha. Mary had eagerly accepted and even suggested Tom be their chauffeur for the morning, knowing there would be bubblies served. 

Tom grinned as he turned off the ignition. "I've freed up my schedule for Mary. So wherever Mary goes, I go. I'm sure it'd be an interesting experience to witness a gaggle of lassies gush over dresses and gowns."

Claire laughed. "Don't worry, my friend Geillis will be there with her boyfriend. He'll keep you company. And there'll be smoked salmon, crowdie and oatcake canapés to ease the pain and boredom of putting up with us."

"Fine by me as long as naebody asks my opinion on anything that has to do with gowns."

"I wouldn't dream of doing that. It would be a fruitless endeavour."

He let out a hearty chuckle. "Shall we then?"

Claire gave up on curbing the idiotic smile forming on her face as she stepped out of the car and almost skipped alongside Tom. Her cheery disposition hadn't anything to do with the excitement of seeing her bridal dress but more to do with just having left behind a six-foot-three inch aroused male lying in a tangle of sheets, wheedling her for one last quickie before he went to work. 

Glancing around with a dreamy sigh, she realised she was lagging behind, and Tom was already holding the entrance door open for her. She quickened her pace and slid past him, hoping he hadn't noticed any tell-tale sign of her dirty thoughts.

Resolved to concentrate on today's events, she allowed Tom to steer her through the throng of crowds while she went through her mental checklist, reminding herself of items required, things to be done, and essential points to be considered for the day ahead. Mrs Abercombie from Juneberry Boutique was closing her bridal shop for the whole morning to accommodate her second dress fitting, and someone had arranged for food and drinks to be served for their small party. Jenny, her future sister-in-law, should be there by the time they arrived as well as Geillis, her friend from Glasgow who would be accompanied by her police boyfriend, Finlay. If Claire had anything to say about it all, she thought it was all too much of a big fuss for just a dress fitting, but she'd long ago decided to go along with it if it would keep everyone happy and off her and Jamie's back.

Today everyone was in a good place and thrilled to be part of her upcoming nuptials. She should be more grateful for her friends and family's efforts to make her wedding special. After all, this was an exciting time, and it was almost her duty to enjoy herself. Annalise and Mary would arrive any moment, and it was time to loosen up a bit and take part in the fun.

..........

Jamie grabbed a chilled bottle of mineral water from the cool box and leaned back against a tree, glancing up at the sky. It wasn't midday yet, and already the air felt sticky and oppressive. Heavy thick clouds were forming, and by the looks of it, he was pretty sure a thunderstorm would be due soon. There were still heaps of work to be done before the rain came, but he allowed himself to take a breather and cool down, making way for his thoughts to flow. 

The weekend had ended well, better than he'd expected or hoped for. Quentin had obviously enjoyed his visit at Lallybroch, so much so he'd stayed there for the night and didn't return to the cottage until Jamie had been about to leave for work. Not that he minded having Quentin around, but the time on their own had given Jamie and Claire ample opportunity to reconnect and smooth out any doubts between them. At the mention of babies, his shock reaction had caused Claire distress, and Jamie hadn't liked seeing her upset for one bit. When he'd reassured her his response had nothing to do with not wanting bairns and that he needed more time before embarking on parenthood, she'd seem placated and been her usual charming self for the rest of the weekend. 

Suddenly remembering Claire's schedule for the day, he wondered if she was at the boutique already for her dress fitting and if she was having fun. Jamie hoped she was because she deserved every simple pleasure life had to offer after the year of ups and downs they'd had.

His phone ringing brought him back to the present. Pulling it out from his pocket, he wasn't surprised to see Claire's name popped up on his screen. Whenever he thought about her, more often than not, she called. It often seemed as if they read each other's minds. 

"Sassenach!" he answered. "How is it going?" 

"Mary and Annalise arrived on time. So all good. I'm in the changing room at the moment." 

"Mmm, dinnae put anything on just yet ...I'll be right there," he teased. 

"Sorry, but Mrs Abercombie is about to come in and help me with the bustier. I swear to God, I think she'll enjoy putting me in this torture device. I wish I hadn't eaten that greasy breakfast uncle Lamb whipped up for us yesterday. I feel bloated." 

Jamie laughed. "Ach dinnae fash. There's more meat on a butcher's pencil than on ye, lass." 

"Actually, I called to find out if uncle Lamb made it back. He's not answering his phone." 

"Saw him this morning. He told me he's feeling a bit rough, whatever that means. I presume he had a bit to drink and will be taking it easy today." 

"Good," she sighed in relief. "He's got a flight tomorrow, and I've been worried about him all morning. You and I know, Uncle Lamb, Murtagh and alcohol never mix well. The only thing that kept me from stopping by Lallybroch this morning was knowing Ellen would have taken good care of him." 

"Aye, there's that. If anything untoward had happened, we would have found out soon enough. So stop worrying and enjoy yer day with yer mates." 

"And how are you feeling today?" 

Jamie grinned as he thought of their vigorous activity between the sheets last night and this morning. "If ye must know, ye've worn me out. I'm totally knackered." 

"Is that so?" Claire's voice lowered a notch. "If that's the case, you and I should have a night off tonight. Maybe watch a film for a change." 

"Perhaps. But I doubt if ye'll be able to concentrate long enough to watch a film without yer hands creeping into my pants." 

A sound of incredulity passed her lips, making him smile. "Oy! You seem to have a short memory. I haven't forgotten the way ye were begging me to come back to bed this morning after I came out of the shower. Or do you need reminding?" 

"I only begged ye to come back to bed because ye were looking at me like ye wanted to have me for breakfast. And here I thought ye needed a bit of push to take what ye want." 

"Unbelievable!"

"And I love ye." Jamie heard feminine chatter in the background, and he knew he'd taken enough of her time. "Go, Sassenach and have some fun," he said. "Give me a call when ye're back." 

"Will do. Love you too."

..........

Claire was sprawled faceup on the chaise longue, squirming and fidgeting with the edging of her bustier in the hope to try and get air into her system. Not even Nat King Cole singing L-O-V-E through the shop's speakers could get her in a love-up mood. "Jesus, this wasn't this tight during my first fitting. I'll probably have to buy a new set of bridal lingerie."

Mrs Abercombie pulled the curtain that divided the dressing room and the reception area where Tom was sat with Geillis' boyfriend, Finlay. The boutique owner frowned at Claire. "Ye must have gained weight, lass. Did ye get yersel' pregnant by any chance?"

"Wot?" She struggled up into a sitting position with the help of Annalise. "God, no! Of course not. I've just over-indulged a bit over the last few days. I'm a writer, and writers have weird eating habits."

"Weel, that's always good to know in advance," Mrs Abercombie said, bustling about. "We still have plenty of room for alteration and one more dress fitting before the big day." 

Annalise gave Claire a sympathetic look. "Hey, I'm here for a week. We'll get you in tip-top shape in no time. We'll join a fitness program."

Claire groaned out loud. She had never been into exercise or fitness anything, even though it was Jamie's thing.

"Not to worry," Mrs Abercombie clucked, hanging the plastic garment bag that contained her wedding dress on a hook. "That's what dress fittings are for, and that's why I insisted on having yer dress made two sizes bigger."

Geillis, Claire's fiery red-haired friend, looked over with critical eyes as she popped open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. The Champagne lightly spewed over the top in her distraction but caught it in time when she poured the fizzing alcohol into the neatly lined coupe glasses. "It's supposed to be a bit uncomfortable, Claire," Geillis reasoned. "That's the price of looking fabulous on yer special day. I promise ye, it'll be worth it when Jamie gets a load of yer awesome tits."

Claire tugged at the mesh panel of her bustier and grimaced. "He's got a load of them plenty of times already, and he still can't get enough."

Mary cackled as she grabbed a Champagne and offered a glass to Claire. "That's why he's marrying ye."

Claire took a sip of her bubbly and handed it back. "Ta, but I need a clear head for this. And speaking of Jamie and tits ..."

"Hello, excuse me!" Jenny interrupted, slapping her clipboard against her thigh. "We're talking about my brother here."

Mary shoved a glass of Champagne towards Jenny. "Oh, drink up and lighten up a bit, Jen! We're mainly talking about Claire's tits here and speaking of ...I remember once Ian saying he sleeps best when his head is resting on your delicate pillows of love. You didn't seem to mind then."

Jenny's eyes widened, and before she could come up with some rejoinder, Mary had already disappeared through the curtains and slipped into the front room.

Claire continued to tug and fidget. "What I was trying to say is ...when it comes to boobs, it just goes to prove that men can concentrate on two things at once. That's men's selective focusing for you!" She fell back once more onto the chaise longue. When Annalise offered her a hand, Claire shook her head, determined to get on her feet on her own. She knew she could do it if only the boning structure didn't painfully dig into her skin. She tried to sit upright again but struggled. "Shit, I'll never get up from here."

"Turn on yer tummy, hen," Geillis suggested while plating canapés.

Claire did as she was told, pushed up and slid backwards off the ornate sofa. "Ah, that's better. Now I need someone to pick me up and plonk me into the dress."

"No need ...just step over here, pet, and we'll do the rest," Mrs Abercombie assured, pointing at the circular, elevated platform. "And please stand with yer back to the mirror."

Claire nodded and climbed onto the raised surface, feeling suddenly conscious of her half-naked state. Wrapping her arms around her, she tried not to fidget as she anticipated the next brand new torture.

Mrs Abercombie shook her finger at Claire's friends. "Remember, no comments until we've fitted the dress properly and Claire has seen the result."

The girls nodded like good little girl scouts, their lips twitching in an effort to suppress their amusement.

As Claire waited patiently for Mrs Abercombie's assistant to take out the wedding dress from the garment bag and smooth out the fabric, she glanced over at her future sister-in-law. "Alright, Jenny, you said you wanted to give me the low down of the wedding details. Let's all hear about it."

"Right. Wedding details! I thought you'd never ask." Jenny reached out for her leather satchel bag and pulled out a binder. "Let's see what we have here..." Taking a sip of her Champagne, she opened a folder that revealed colourfully tabbed sheets and scanned the pages. "We'll skip the wedding guests part for now since the replies are still coming in." She flipped on to the next page as Annalise and Geillise gathered behind Jenny and peered over her shoulders. "Wedding favours! As we've already discussed, all welcome gifts will come in woven baskets decorated with tartan patterned ribbons. Male guests will receive a miniature engraved quaich pewter, and for the ladies, a silver dragonfly hair comb. All baskets for adults will contain an Oxford treat box with assorted dinky chocolates, a wee bag of tablet fudge, a packet of wildflower meadow seed and a couple of bottles of miniature single malt, personalised with the bride and groom's names. As for the bairns, they'll receive various sweets, biccies and an activity and game bag to keep them occupied."

"Wow! The wedding favours sound marvellous, Jen," Claire said as she stepped into the wedding dress that was being held out for her. "I would never have thought of those things. I'm bloody useless when it comes to organising stuff like that."

Jenny smiled genuinely for the first time that morning. "I'm glad you like it, Claire."

"Of course, I love it! How about the videographer and photographer? Uncle Lamb has constantly been harping about it."

"It's sorted!" Jenny waved a pen in the air. "We've locked in Gregor McLellan. He's excellent and very sought after."

Claire had never heard of the name, but whoever he was, he sounded expensive. Sucking in her stomach, she straightened her back for Mrs Abercombie as she felt the back zip tug. "Anything else?"

"Well, we've already discussed the caterers and the menu, and that's already agreed on. Mrs Fitz will be making the cake, and she will get in touch with either me or ye to arrange a date for some cake sampling. As for the drinks, Da will organise the open bars and beverages."

"Sweet heavens! All I need to do now is give Jamie a nudge into deciding what he'll wear. He doesn't want to have anything custom made for him. He says he has a couple of kilts and a few formal suits tuck away in Lallybroch."

"Oh, that! That's taken care of. Willie and Murtagh will make sure yer Jamie scrubs up well on yer wedding day."

Claire let out a sigh of relief. Though Willie was outdoorsy like his brother, he had a refined taste when it came to formalwear. At least, she could rest easy knowing Jamie was in good hands. That sorted, for now, she refocused on other matters. "How about the guys at the marquee hire? The Grants, isn't it? Do we have any more updates from them?"

"Aye, the Grants. They're on the case, alright. The latest email I got says they'll arrive at Lallybroch four days prior to the big day to set the wedding tent up. Helpful guys, the lot of them, if I may say so. They've even advised me on how much square footage we'll need based on the number of guests and caterers. Of course, not to forget, the size of the dancefloor and the number of persons in the band." 

Claire did a semi-whirl. "Band? Couldn't we just hire a DJ or something? I'm kind of fond of pop music and oldies but goldies."

Jenny bit her lower lip. "Yer uncle Lamb insisted on a ceilidh band. But they're not only folk and bluegrass musicians. They're a function band and have some modern and pop repertoires up their sleeves as well. They're quite good and have outstanding reviews online. If ye want, I'll send ye some Youtube links of their gigs."

"What's the name of the band?"

Jenny grinned. "Papa Shandy and the Drams. A great name, isn't it? Quentin personally picked and booked them. Ever heard of them?"

Claire shook her head in response and glanced over at Geillis and Annalise. They merely nodded their approval and uttered, "cool name." Though her friends could be opinionated at times, she was surprised they haven't shared any of their thoughts or offered any input. From what Claire could garner, they seemed impressed with the details so far as well as her future sister-in-law's meticulousness and attention to detail. If Claire wasn't mistaken, she was quite certain this was Jenny's way of making amends after their relationship had taken off to a bad start. And the fact that they were moving forward from the past gave Claire hope for their budding friendship.

"Well, sounds like you have everything under control," Claire smiled, making a mental note to buy Jenny something special.

"Getting there," she sighed, ticking off some list on a page. "Anyway, I have a summary here for ye and Jamie to take home. Go over it, and if there are any changes ye wish to make or add something, let me know. I want to have it finalised within a week." She clapped the folder shut and smiled. "So that's it! Any more questions?"

"Where're the shoes?" Mrs Abercombie interjected. "And accessories?"

Before Claire could reply, the girls had already sprung onto their feet and scattered in different directions, going through bags and handing over bits and bobs. She'd been instructed by Jenny to bring everything she'd need for the wedding, and she'd done just that and much more. There were all the pieces of jewellery Claire owned, hairpieces recently bought, a variety of clutches and undergarments and even make-up remover. It was over the top, but after all the efforts Jenny was making for the wedding, the least she could do was try her hardest not to forget anything. 

All the fineries finally laid out on the table, Mrs Abercombie began making adjustments to the bodice and skirt while the assistant tweaked at the hem. Claire sucked in her breath for the most part and cooperated with every instruction, knowing that the sooner she was done, the sooner she could go back into her comfortable clothes.

"I need to let out an inch here at the back," Mrs Abercombie remarked. "If I were ye, I'd stay away from those canapés. Either that or ye need to do more exercise."

The girls laughed out loud at the older woman's blunt declaration, but Claire simply took a deep breath and gave herself over to the convenience of being attended to, adorned and even bossed around. A vague recollection of her mother making clothes for her when she was a child suddenly surfaced. She saw herself standing on a stool as her mother sang and pinned the hem of her dress. A wave of nostalgia evoked a longing for her parents and bittersweet memories of her childhood, making her wish they were here to see all these.

"Right, let's take a look," Mrs Abercombie announced, breaking Claire's brief reverie and stepping back to assess her handiwork.

Claire twisted her hips and sashayed on the spot, making the girls laugh and whistle. "So ...how do I look?"

"Nobody says a thing," Mrs Abercombie firmly reminded Claire's friends. "I want to hear and see Claire's reaction first when she sees herself in the mirror."

Even though everyone remained tight-lipped, Claire could see the approval and awe shining from their eyes. "So, when do I get to look then?" Claire asked, suddenly giddy with excitement for the first time.

"I think you need these first," Annalise said, carefully placing a pair of shoes at her feet." Slip these on, and I'll strap it on for you."

Taking Geillis hand, Claire slid her feet into a pair of Jimmy Choo's ivory satin pearl sandals. Not used to high heels, she wobbled a bit before recovering her balance. "Oh dear, I think I'll need lessons walking in these," she laughed nervously. "And there's no way I can wear these all day and night."

"That's why I bought ye a pair of these," Jenny said, holding a pair of white sneakers studded with tiny pearls and embellished with an ivory bow. "It even has the date of yer wedding adorned at the back of the heels."

Overwhelmed by Jenny's thoughtfulness, Claire clapped her hands over her mouth to suppress the tears of gratitude threatening to spill. "Oh Jenny, that's so sweet. Come here and let me give you a hug."

"Hugs later," Mrs Abercombie ordered, raising a hand. "We don't want to spoil the dress. Right Claire, whenever ye're ready, please close yer eyes."

Claire did as she was told and held on to readily assisting hands as she slowly pivoted on the spot. Anticipation hung in the air, and the sanguine expectation made the moment all the more seemed endless. She envisioned her mother before her and the emotions the image conjured - excitement, hope and fear of the unknown tightly knotted together, creating a fourth emotion that was hard to define. Whatever it was, it tickled like she had a handful of butterflies fluttering in her belly.

"Ye may look now," Mrs Abercombie said in a hushed tone.

Claire slowly lifted her eyes and took in the reflection before her, and gasped. Statuesque was the first word that came to mind. She'd never been the type to wear a gown, but this beautiful dress dramatically transformed her, accentuating her height and doing wonders to her curves. She was so glad she'd opted for a sheath gown against the better judgement of her friends. Annalise had thought the style would have been too restricting, and Jenny had been convinced Claire would look better in an A-line classic. But this ... this was even better and well beyond her expectation. 

Her hand shakily hovered over the body-hugging material, taking everything in from the off-the-shoulder style to the translucent tulle base intricately hand-embroidered with beading and thread work. Her eyes were restless, admiring every detail, but there were so many things to look at and no words adequate enough to describe the beauty she'd been transformed into and what she felt at that moment.

"Mrs Abercombie, it's beautiful," Claire whispered.

Mrs Abercombie smiled triumphantly. "I'm glad ye like."

Like? Are you kidding me? Claire wanted to correct the older woman, but she understood that Mrs Abercombie was giving her the prerogative by remaining impassive. The prerogative to be thrilled for this moment and be filled with anticipation for her wedding day, when the man she loved would see her looking beautiful and splendidly dress like a movie star. 

"Goodness, gracious me, you look like an earth angel all vamped up!"

Everyone's head snapped towards the curtain divider direction, and there stood Mary cradling a bouquet of blood-red, long-stemmed roses. "Oops! Sorry for startling everyone ...I couldn't help myself." Mary clutched her throat and shook her head. "Good Lord, Claire, you look absolutely out of this world."

Claire barely heard the compliments. "What's that?" she asked, eyeing the roses.

Mary glanced down. "Oh, these ...the receptionist told me it's for you."

"For me?"

Mary snatched the card and read out loud, "You look beautiful today, love J." She grinned at Claire. "Romance is definitely not dead. What a sweet man, your Jamie, is."

Everyone awwed, raved and gushed over the sweet and thoughtful note.

Claire frowned. "May I please see the message?"

"Of course," Mary replied, walking towards Claire and handing over the card. 

Claire read and re-read the words before looking up.

Geillis touched her hand. "What's wrong, lass?"

Claire shook her head. "It's odd."

"What's odd?" Annalise asked.

"This doesn't look like Jamie's writing," Claire replied.

Jenny stepped in and peered at the card. "It's definitely no' Jamie's writing."

Annalise waved a hand in dismissal. "Maybe it's the florist's handwriting, and they've been instructed to write that message."

Claire wasn't convinced. "It's not Jamie's style," she explained. "He usually ends messages with the words love you and an X. He's quite consistent that way. He never signs J or his name. And he's never given me roses because he knows I don't like them."

"Oh, that's right," Annalise said, suddenly remembering. "You've never been keen on roses."

"Maybe it's from John, your former boss?" Mary implied. "He's quite fond of you, you know?"

Claire shook her head. "Fond, yes. But John is practical when it comes to giving gifts, and he thinks buying flowers are a waste of money. Sending these expensive roses would be a gesture out of character for him. Besides, why would he send these? For what occasion?"

"Oh, oh ..." Jenny's eyes lighted. "Maybe it's from Jamie's therapist? His name is Joe, right?"

Claire chewed her bottom lip. "No, not Joe. Definitely not. That would be too weird, and I don't think his wife, Gail, would be too impressed if she heard about these expensive roses. I don't think that's his style, and on top of that, I hardly know the bloke."

"Well, who the fuck gave you these roses then?" Gellis asked, the furrows on her brows intensifying. 

Everyone looked at Jenny.

Jenny sputtered. "Me? Of course, it wasnae me, ye bunch of dafties."

"Weel, there's only one way to find out who the sender is ..." Geillis suggested.

"Eh, how?" Mary asked.

"My boyfriend is a police officer," Geillis answered. "We'll get him to interrogate the florist. I can see the tag of the flower shop on the wrapper."

Claire groaned out loud. "Oh, for God's sake, Geillis. Do we really need to get him involved? It's not important. Soon enough, we'll find out who the mystery sender is."

Geillis' smile was wicked. "Just hang fire," she said before shouting, "FINLAY!"

"WHAT?" Finlay shouted back from the other side of the curtain.

"Get yer sweet, hairy arse in here! Pronto!"

..........

Later that afternoon, Claire walked into the cottage, attempting to forget about the unexpected delivery at the bridal boutique while the sound of thunder rumbled across the sky. She'd given the bouquet to Mary, citing allergies as an excuse. It might as well have been the case since she didn't like roses, especially coming from strangers.

Geillis had sensed something was off and had sweet-talked her boyfriend to find out who'd sent the flowers using his influence as police. But the quick investigation had come up blank. Claire had been informed that the flower shop owner had found an envelope on the counter by the cash register. It contained a hundred and fifty quid, instructions and a notecard, and the florist had only happily complied with the request. Reviewing the video surveillance recording hadn't produced any results either since the person who'd left the envelope had been wearing a sports cap and a hoodie, obscuring most of the face.

The thunder clapped once more, and she realised anytime soon, it would start to rain. Rollo was safe in the house, but Adso was nowhere to be found, and he hated thunderstorms. She needed to find the cat before it came pouring down. 

Grabbing Adso's treats, she made her way out through the kitchen backdoor. She clicked her tongue and shook the packet of cat biscuits to entice Adso while searching and scanning through bushes and shrubs. With no luck, she decided to check the surroundings of the shed.

"Claire!"

Her heart lurched, and as she whirled around, she toppled backwards, hitting her head on something hard. A sharp pain exploded on her skull, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut.

"Oh, God, Claire! Ye alright?" 

The agonising pain was momentarily dulled by the familiar voice. She tried to open her eyes, but her vision blurred.

"Easy now there, Claire! Dinnae move. I rang yer doorbell, and when ye didnae answer, I walked around the house. Ye forgot yer handbag in the car, and I came back to bring it to ye. When I called out yer name, I must have caught ye by surprise, and ye slipped and banged yer head."

Tom? It was only her friend. Damn those roses! She'd been on edge ever since that bloody bouquet arrived, and now she'd panicked over the sound of her Tom's voice.

She tried to speak, but it hurt to talk. 

"I've called 999 just in case yer fall had caused more damage. I've sent a message to Jamie and Annalise as well. I'm terribly sorry for sneaking up on ye."

"It's alright," she managed to croak.

"Tell me where ye are hurting," Tom asked calmly.

She was about to reply, but another shearing pain fired at the back of her head, so excruciating it almost robbed her of air and made her see shooting stars. She felt the beginning of rain dropping on her, and suddenly she felt cold and began to shake. And just before the world went dark and silent, she heard the wails of sirens.

 Dear Readers,

Did I promise you drama in the last chapter? Oh yes, I did. Oh, and the drama in the end! Well, where have I heard this line before?  "...along with the sunshine, there's gotta be a little rain sometime ..." Just like in real life, Jamie and Claire get to experience a bit of rain too. But in Jamie and Claire's case, they're experiencing a bit of a thunderstorm. Hang in there with me, and we'll get through this together. Alright?

Drama aside, thank you all for your readership and feedback from my last update. It's been a pleasure reading the comments. Though I'm not great at replying to each individual message, please know that your thoughts, words, and inputs are greatly appreciated and motivate me to write for you. 

Looking forward to your reaction, and until then, stay safe and enjoy the summer! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #savethedate #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Feeling a lot better today after that vent post, I'm gonna talk about some stuff now, I'll be mentioning suicide, anger issues and trauma

I know I can be intense sometimes when I'm angry, and I hope that's not too upsetting to people (I do try to tw tag appropriately)

this blog is just one of my only outlets, and anger is an emotion I struggle with because my anger is a lot more intense in person and I can't vent to people without them getting kinda rattled (I don't take it out on people it's just very confronting to watch)

I wasn't very good at expressing anger as a kid, and often got laughed at by my family when I was angry, my dad would also try to interrupt my rants by making me laugh, it was a very effective way to defuse me, but all it did was make everything internal, it was the worst thing my parents could have done for me at a time when I was going through some truly traumatic bullying at school

as a result I wouldn't get outwardly angry a lot, but when I did I ended up screaming at whoever was upsetting me, usually my brother, it wasn't healthy

now after an especially terrible break up with a long time friend who very much wronged me, I got horrifically (and justifiably) furious with them, and that seemed to unlock a floodgate

now when I get angry I have a lot of trouble coping because I'm not used to the intensity of it, and I can't vent to my family without upsetting them (and my healing shouldn't come at the detriment of the people around me) but I also need to let it out somewhere, and my therapist has been encouraging me to find a new way to do it

so this blog is really my only outlet at the moment, but I also don't want to upset people here either

I always try to tw tag them, but I should probably put an indicator at the top of the post that it's gonna be ranty, like I did with my last one, and maybe start shifting it under a readmore

thanks for sticking with me while I learn to process these things, and thank you to the people who ask if I'm okay, I'm usually feeling a lot better after a rant post

and if anyone else struggles with anger, just know that it's okay to let it out, you need to let it out, bottling it up will bite you in the ass a lot later in life, it can be hard to find a way to do it without hurting or scaring people around you, but it's so important to helping you heal

I also find screaming helps a lot, when my friend and I drove out to a deserted beach on halloween night to scream at the ocean, we screamed about a lot of things, things that happened to us, people who wronged us, it was an amazing outlet, but unfortunately something I don't always have access to

yesterday was especially horrific for me considering my recent mental health struggles, (I'd just gotten out of a month long stay at a mental health unit when I came back from hiatus) I was very lucky to have walked away okay, but the event reminded me that choosing to live isn't a guarantee, and I'm still more than capable of dying by someone else's hand, I value life so much more after being so close to taking it from myself, and the idea that I could have died yesterday because of someone else's actions terrifies me

but it also made me realise just how much I do value my life now, and it's really nice to know all the work I've put into myself has been worth it

and if anyone wants me to use any specific tw tags, I am more than happy to do that

thanks for reading, I hope you all have a good day ❤️

#lula's life #lula's rants #tw suicide #tw anger #tw trauma

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.4

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else. 

Chapter Four: Hope Is A Heartache: A glimpse into your past with Spencer as you tour wedding venues together. A/N: chapter titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: mild cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, jealousy, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

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A/N: you guys are incredible omg!! i’d love to reply to you all under each chapter but unfortunately this is not my main account but my messages are open so feel free to say hi!! i’m so happy you’re all enjoying the story so far, honestly lost for words! 

-

It was a cold day. Cold enough to make your atoms shiver. Dark grey clouds covered every inch of the sky above, hiding the winter sun. The air was brisk. It was harsh against your skin as you got out of the car. And the unwelcoming breeze that followed made you wish that you hadn't forgotten your scarf. 

“What a terrible miserable day.” You muttered while slamming your car door shut. You ambled your way around the hood as Spencer gently closed the passenger side door. You noticed immediately how he shivered slightly when the chilly air bushed against him. A sigh escaped your lips. 

“Honestly Spencer, I can reschedule. I’m sure you would much rather spend this dull day reading in the comfort of your own apartment rather than driving around touring venues with me.” 

“If you promise we stop for coffee before the next place, then I’m all good.” He replied, mouth twitching into an awkward half-smile. 

You smiled back at him. “I’ll get you all the coffee you want doctor.” 

“One is fine Y/N.” Spencer said, the smile on his face widening. “You know there are side effects to having too much caffeine. Anxiety, insomnia, and digestive issues to name a few.” 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. “I’ll repeat that back to you next time we’re working a case and you’re on your fifth cup of coffee in the space of three hours.” 

Spencer chuckled lightly at your response. “I guess that’s fair.” 

There was a brief moment of silence in which the two of you once again found yourselves simply looking into each others eyes. Blocking off the surroundings. Basking in the comforting warm presence of one another. Something that ever since your dinner date a couple of weeks ago happened more often than it probably should have. 

The brunette doctor enjoyed these seconds. To him, they were pure bliss. To him, these moments of uninterrupted silence said more than either of you could ever say with words. Because truth be told Spencer was afraid to talk around you in case he ever said too much.

Which is why he only agreed to tag along today because Garcia was supposed to be here. As the maid of honour she volunteered to join you today since your fiancé couldn't make it. So when Spencer approached the car this morning, noticing immediately how the passenger seat was empty, he half wanted to turn back. He only stayed because of the promise he made your dad. 

Although, he really was going to have to be careful not to slip up and reveal something he probably shouldn't.

After what seemed like eternity, you tilted your head and looked away. Palms of your hands sweating inside your jacket pockets. Heart beating fast. The cold air no longer a nuisance. 

Unknown to the brunette doctor you also quite liked these silent moments. But unlike Spencer, you always felt incredibly guilty afterward. As if you were being dishonest and misleading somehow; rather your heart was. 

With an inaudible sigh, you began making your way toward the entrance. 

“Come on doctor, maybe they’ll have coffee here.” You called out after you, and shortly Spencer was by your side once again. 

The venue was beautiful. You had only stepped in the door and already you were mesmerised. Even though the space was currently empty, you had no trouble at all visualising what you hoped it would look like on your big day. From the colour scheme, to the flowers, and the decorations. 

“I am so glad you made it Y/N!” The wedding planner, Gina, appeared as you were basking in your surroundings. She hugged you briefly before turning her attention to Spencer. “And this must be the infamous Ethan.” 

“Oh actually, no.” You cut in before Spencer could say anything. Gina glanced at you once again, one brow raised. “Ethan couldn't make it.” You advised with a timid smile. “This is Spencer.”

Gina nodded slowly. She looked at Spencer, and as she was eyeing him up you were hoping that she wouldn't recognise the name. See you have known Gina for some time now. You had initially reached out to her about a year and a half ago when you were hoping to marry the very young doctor stood beside you. 

“Well, Spencer it’s nice to meet you.” She spoke, flashing him a pearly white smile. “I’m Gina, the wedding planner.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too Gina.” Spencer responded, returning the smile. You could tell he was feeling slightly uncomfortable being mistaken by your fiancé, and you took a mental note to apologise for that in the car.

“Shall we get started?” Gina asked, turning her attention to you. “Lead the way.” You replied. 

About an hour later the tour had concluded. You made plans to meet Gina at the next venue and after getting the exact address from her, you and Spencer ambled back to the car. 

“What did you think?” You asked while hopping inside the vehicle. 

“I liked it.” Spencer responded while fastening his seatbelt. You shot him a quick glance before securing your own strap. He smiled at you. “What?” “Just checking if you’re lying.” Spencer laughed at your response. “And am I?” You shook your head. “No. It appears you are telling the truth.”

You turned to look ahead before starting the engine. Soon the two of you were on the road. 

“I think it’s more important if you liked it.” Spencer spoke. “I loved it.” “Why do I sense a but.” Spencer enquired with a soft laugh. You giggled. “But I don’t think Ethan would’ve liked it.” “Ah.” 

“You can say it.” You retorted. “What?” Spencer asked. “That he’s not here so he shouldn’t get a say.” From the corner of his eye, Spencer noticed how your grip around the wheel tightened ever so slightly.  

“I’d never say that.” He replied. 

“Now that was a lie doctor.” 

There was a brief moment of silence.

You sighed. “He promised me he’d be here. Just like he promised he wouldn't get called to work during our engagement party.” You stopped the car at a red light and glanced glanced at Spencer who was already looking at you. “So you can say it. Heck, I’m fucking thinking it.” 

Spencer swallowed. He knew he shouldn't get involved. At least more than he already was. He knew he shouldn't indulge you. And he definitely knew that he shouldn't try to steer you away from Ethan. Because even though he really wanted to win you back, he knew that was unfair to you.  

So Spencer was glad the light turned green and your attention was back on the road before he got a chance to respond. 

“You know what was odd?” He said, quickly changing the subject. “What?” You asked. “How Gina didn't try to shake my hand when we met.” He noted, and immediately you bit your bottom lip. Fuck. You didn't realise it then. How could you have not realised? It means that she recognised the name and remembered how you told her he was a germaphobe. 

“She must have just been eager to get going to be honest.” You lied calmly. 

Spencer didn't buy your excuse. “I don’t think that’s it.” He said, trying to get a reaction out of you. “It’s almost as if she knew not to shake my hand.” 

“Honestly Spencer, I wouldn't read too much into it.” You countered. “I mean we are on a tight schedu-.”

“Why are you lying to me Y/N?” He interrupted causing the air to hitch in your throat. “Just like you know when I’m not being truthful Y/N, I can also tell when you’re lying and you’re doing so right now.” 

There was no point evading him any longer. Spencer was stubborn, almost as stubborn as you, and he wasn't going to stop pressing on the matter. Plus it was time he knew the truth. After all this time, he deserved to know the truth. 

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the car over on the side of the road and cut the engine. You turned to look at the brunette doctor who was already looking at you. 

“Do you remember the last time I visited you in prison?” You asked, your voice so timid you weren't even sure Spencer heard you. But he did. And he nodded his head slowly. “Of course I do. It was one of the worst days of my life.” He responded, and you could detect the hurt in his sentence. 

“Well, uhh-” You cleared your throat. Here goes nothing. “That day I came to see you I actually, eh, well I-I wanted to ask if you’d marry me.” 

Spencer was taken aback by your admission. A puzzled expression spread across his face as his mouth parted in shock. He searched his mind for what words to say but nothing seemed quite right. You wanted to marry him? The day he broke your heart by ending things with you so abruptly, you wanted to propose? He couldn't believe it. 

Of course you sensed that he had trouble with wrapping his brain around this, like you knew he would, so you continued. 

“Spencer, I loved you so much and just like the rest of the team I knew in my heart you were innocent. I knew it was only a matter of time before you would get out.” Tears began forming in your eyes and the lump in your throat grew larger with every passing second. 

“When you were locked away, and our life together was taken away from us without warning, I realised I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you.” The salty droplets began trailing down your cheeks and along your jawline. Spencer wanted to reach out and wipe them but he couldn't bring himself to move an inch. He was completely frozen.

“But between trying to clear your name, working the normal caseload, and honestly trying to get out of bed every fucking morning, I needed help to planning what I wanted to be the most perfect day.” You paused to take a quick breath. “Which is why I hired Gina.” 

“Why didn't you say anything?” Spencer asked quietly after a moment of silence. An uneasy yet somewhat freeing silence. 

“You broke up with me Spencer.” You replied. “That day I came to visit you, before I could even finish saying ‘Hi Spencer, I missed you.’, you ended things.”

“Y/N...” He whispered, and without thinking he took your hands in his. “And I know you remember what happened after that so I’m sure you can figure out why I didn't tell you sooner.” You added, corner of your lips twirling into a half-smile. Spencer squeezed your hands and let out a deep sigh. 

“If I-” The brunette agent began but you shook your head to cut him off. “I know you only ended things to protect me Spencer.” You freed your hands from his grasp and gently cupped his cheek. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that he leaned into your touch. 

“Which is why I was never angry with you, why I never resented you. I cannot take back the words I said to you that day but you have to understand it was all the initial shock considering I thought I would be leaving the prison with a fiancé and not completely heartbroken.” 

You let your hand fall from Spencer’s face and ran your fingers through your hair. You cleared your throat. 

“I hope this doesn't change anything between us.” You muttered. “Because I like where we are now, and I would hate-” This time it was Spencer who cut you off. “You have nothing to worry about Y/N.” He said with a timid smile.

“Thank you for telling me.” Spencer added.

“It was time you knew.”

You smiled at him warmly one last time before turning your attention back to the wheel. You started the engine once again and within minutes you were back on the road. 

The two of you drove in congenial silence. As you focused on the directions ahead, feeling grateful that the brunette doctor was understanding, Spencer’s mind raced. 

He couldn't help but wonder where the two of you would be now if he hadn't been so rash - married, maybe with a child by now. He shook the thought away, it hurt too much. 

Of course back then he did what he thought was the right thing to do. He was suspicious that whoever was framing him would come after you, and he knew he couldn't risk that. He would never risk anything bad happening to you. In the end his suspicions were proved correct when Cat and Lindsey kidnapped his mom. And when that happened you were there for him in unimaginable ways, you didn't leave his side for a minute. 

He should have begged for your forgiveness the second the whole ordeal was over. He should have fought harder to win you back, especially since it didn't take long for him to admit he only broke up with you to protect you. Truthfully, he was a coward. He thought perhaps you wouldn't take him back after the hurtful things that were said. 

After all this time, he learned that you only really said what you said because you thought Spencer was the love of your life. 

“I would have said yes.” The brunette doctor whispered.

Stopping at a red light, you turned your head to look at him. A confused look gracing your facial features. Spencer cleared his throat before nervously meeting your gaze. 

“I would have said yes.” He spoke louder. Now you definitely heard him. 

“Spencer...” 

“I know it doesn't matter now, but in case you ever wondered what I would have said if you got to ask me back then.” He paused. “I would have said yes.”

“You don’t have to say that.” You muttered with a soft smile. “I’m not just saying it Y/N. I really mean it.” He emphasised and your heart skipped a beat. 

The thought that crossed your mind next was incredibly wrong. The sudden pull you felt toward the man sitting beside you was inappropriate, misguided even, however it was there. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted to kiss him. 

Perhaps if you knew that Spencer wanted to kiss you too, you would have leapt across from your seat to smash his lips against yours. To tangle your fingers in his hair, cradle his lap, feel his hands travel up your back and hold you close.

But you didn't know. So you hesitated. And as you hesitated, you were promptly brought back to reality by the car behind you. The beeping of the horn signalised the lights had turned green and it was time to move along. 

With a timid smile, you broke eye contact and began to drive. 

Heavy-sitting silence enveloped around you. Spencer noticed immediately the slight change in your demeanour but he chose not to comment on it. 

See, just seconds ago the brunette agent noticed a look in your eyes that he hasn't seen since you were dating. A look of devotion, amity. A look that burned the hope inside of him even more. 

An image formulated in his brain. Image of you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, him standing at the end of the alter while your dad gives you away, both of you tearing up. It was foolish, yes. Spencer should have known better than to hold out hope that one day that image would become reality but he couldn't help it. 

And as the image became more vivid, the pain he felt in his heart grew stronger. Knowing that one day you wanted to be his forever, and now he was helping you tour venues for a wedding he didn't want to happen. The perfect image came crumbling down. Reality hit. 

No matter how much he wanted it, you weren't his anymore. 

Keep thinking about us and how things get in between But if it is love, it doesn't matter, you don't belong to me But I can't let go

-

A/N: hello friends! i hope you liked the fourth chapter!! i’d love to hear your feedback and what you think will happen next! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01​, @reverdevivre​, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy​, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​

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#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #spencer reid imagine #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #champagne problems series