#���you said you'd never leave”

[thethistlegirl]

Ok I'm sorry, two days of angsty Top Gun edits IN A ROW...but this just fit a little too well.

@nade2308 @whumptober

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 10

“You said you'd never leave.”

Titans s01e07: “Dick? It's me. I need you to hear me.“

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

the thing i love about bill cipher is that even after i've learned all of this stuff about him, seen him at the most vulnerable he'll ever get, seen him at his most innocent, i still can't give a flying fuck about trying to justify his actions. yes he's traumatized, yes he was twisted into what we know today, and while it gives a semblance of context to why he did what he did, it doesn't matter. he still ruined ford's life. he still drove and baited multiple humans to suicide. he still tormented every human he saw as his ticket out of the consequences of his own actions. he still took delight in his actions. he was willing to commit genocide for fuck's sake!!! (freezing all of the humans into statues). trying to explain away what he did does not get rid of what he did, but it certainly puts it in perspective. you won't be catching me being a bill apologist any time soon <3

[monsteractialuna]

Fanart for @vivisols fic The Future Stares Back. I've really been enjoying it and I absolutely love Moon and y/n's interactions :)

Fics where the reader isn't human are some of my favorites so I've been loving the wish fulfillment here. My favorite part is where Moon sees y/n and goes "Anybody gonna be besties with them" and not wait for an answer and then tells sun if anything happens to y/n he'll kill everybody in the room and then himself.

[whumpster-dumpster]

Whumptober Day 10: “You said you'd never leave.”

[atimeofyourlife]

Whumptober day 10

rated: t | wc: 719 | prompt: Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

It had been totally out of the blue. One day the relationship seemed perfect, that they could be together forever. The next, Eddie said he was leaving. Leaving Hawkins. Leaving Indiana. Leaving Steve. That he was heading out west, alone, to try and make a name for himself in the metal music scene.

It broke Steve. Eddie was the first relationship he'd had since Nancy that felt serious. They had been planning their future together, talking about moving together. Just the week before Eddie left, they'd been looking at apartments in Indianapolis. Somewhere they were close enough to visit the kids regularly, and would be available if something went wrong, but far enough out of Hawkins that Eddie wouldn't always be instantly recognized as the drug dealing murder suspect. But apparently that was just what Steve wanted, not what Eddie did.

Steve spent two days curled up in bed, bouncing between crying and feeling too numb to cry. Feeling lost without Eddie there beside him. When she could, Robin would be there to talk him through it, to comfort him in any way possible. Reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, that he hadn't done anything wrong.

He couldn't believe that he wasn't to blame for Eddie leaving. Not when Eddie had promised, repeatedly, that he would never leave. If Eddie had promised that, and then left anyway, Steve felt that he had done something to push Eddie away. Maybe he'd been too clingy. Maybe he'd been too uptight about a clean and tidy space, and had nagged Eddie too much about not leaving stuff everywhere and picking up after himself. Maybe he'd been too picky when they'd been looking at apartments, not wanting to settle for the cheaper options because of the lack of space, or the lack of amenities. Maybe he'd been too high maintenance, caring too much about his hair care and skincare and his clothes. There had to have been something he'd done wrong, or maybe there was just something so deeply wrong with him that made the people he loved not want to stay for him.

It took weeks for Steve to start to feel some sense of normal, to make more of an effort to be social and make plans with people, instead of just going to work and then going home, or just showing his face at a group thing before escaping at the first possible opportunity. Steve had found it difficult to be around the kids. Not wanting them to blame him for Eddie leaving the way he blamed himself. They never did, but the sadness was evident in their eyes and voices if Eddie was ever mentioned or if anything reminded them of him. But Steve started to push himself to be around more, and slowly everyone started to feel better about it. He spent as much time with all the kids as possible, they started bothering him and Robin at work more. It was starting to feel more like the summer when they'd worked at Scoops, or after the demodogs, with the way the kids started flocking to him like ducklings again. It was a new normal, but it felt like life was on the up. That life after Eddie would be possible.

Until a little over three months after Eddie left. Steve woke up to the phone ringing at three in the morning. He tried to ignore it, leaving it to ring until the answering machine kicked in. But it started ringing again just a few seconds later.

"Hello?" He answered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Stevie." Came Eddie's voice in a whisper.

"What do you want, Eddie?" Steve asked, trying to keep his tone harsh. Not wanting his emotion to show through, that hearing Eddies voice for the first time after months without any contact was still like a knife to his heart.

"It's just I. I love you, Steve. I miss you so much."

"No. No. You can't. You left. You can't say that to me when you said you'd never leave." Steve said, tears breaking through and streaming down his face. Without letting Eddie get another word in, he hung up, then took the phone off the hook so Eddie wouldn't be able to call back. Maybe it was time to get a new number.

[gierosajie-art]

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List | No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?” | “You said you'd never leave.”

[The "Divine" Will cutscene | Wanderer Character Story 3]

"The third one was exactly like me.

"A hope for the future...a fledgling barely out of the nest."

Though he had already witnessed much change, he never knew that another person's passing was something that could occur in such a brief moment, or that this moment could grant him nothing but pain.

[beargyufairy]

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

[kalevalakryze]

I Don't Need A Jedi, I Need You

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Ahsoka Pairings: Shin Hati/ Sabine Wren,  Characters: Shin Hati, Sabine Wren, Ahsoka Tano, Baylan Skoll Warnings: Abandonment, Revenge, Rage, Violence, The Dark Side Of The Force, Healing, Force Bond, Blood and Violence Notes: For Whumptober Day  10  This is going to be small, but def something I plan on delving into more Prompt: No. 10: “You said you'd never leave.” Word Count: 3,174 AO3 Link: Here!

They found him three weeks after Shin had been cleared to get up and start moving. Three weeks after she started the journey of rebuilding muscle and herself. Ahsoka and Sabine left her alone, for the most part. The Togruta’s cloak hadn’t left Shin’s shoulders since that first night, waking with it draped around her shoulders. 

Her tunic had been ruined with blood and holes that even she could not repair, so the Jedi’s cloak became all she had to cover her modesty, though Sabine had helped her repair the straps of her bra. The pants she’d been given upon her reluctant rescue were tied to her waist, double knotted to prevent the article from sliding off. Her pauldrons not longer shined where they sat strapped to her shoulders beneath the cloak, smeared with blood (an unfortunate amount her own), with a thin layer of ripped fabric separating metal and skin. 

Shin’s gloves and pauldrons stopped just before her elbows, bare skin and muscle just barely covered by Ahsoka’s cloak where it sat when her arms were down. Sabine helped give her a proper haircut, though there was nothing that could be done to force the brown from their head, leaving the only blonde in her hair for the frayed Padawan brain that settled over her right collarbone, dirty green beads untouched from where they were intricately woven the last time Baylan had helped them dye their hair. 

When they found Baylan, Shin had only found out through Huyang receiving his comm as droid and apprentice worked on fixing her saber, the charge pack wouldn’t hold and the crystal inside was reluctant; like Shin closing herself off from the force and from the kyber had harmed it. Huyang had spent days working with Shin to work with the blade, to reach back into the pool of the force no matter how much it hurt to reconnect.

It had been impossible, up until this point. The blade kept coming out warbly and unstable, before sparking back into its emitter and threatening to spark through the Apprentice’s hands. Huyang hadn’t even had the time to turn towards Shin, to warn that he knew their thoughts, order them to stay behind. She was gone in seconds, leaving only the tail of Ahsoka’s cloak whipping in the wind as she whistled for her Howler. 

Shin rode hard and fast across the Peridean wastes. The Nomads that had allied with the ‘Rebels’ had done what Shin’s own bandits could not; They found Baylan Sköll, and she would be damned if she let him get away. 

“We need not be at odds.” He was trying to worm his way out of the circle the Nomads had him trapped in, trying to talk his way out in an illusion of peace. Shin slipped from the Howler’s back, boots thudding in the dirt as she breezed closer, shoving past an armored being. Baylan was facing away from her, but she could see the way his shoulders tensed.

“You were supposed to return with the Imperial fleet,” His chin rose, yet he still did not look at her, igniting the anger that sat dormand in her veins. 

“I was supposed to die.” They snarled, venom in their tone as their hand wrapped around the hilt of their saber. The crystal resonated with her anger, with the hurt she knew was pouring off in waves, knew her Master could feel it too, the danger of the person he’d created. “I was supposed to die when Thrawn realized you were gone.” 

Baylan’s head turned until Shin could see the hard line of his lips. “You turned against me.” They snarled, finger hovering over the ignition of their saber. Anger flooded their mind, they could strike him down right here, prove that they could choose for themselves, choose this desire for revenge over it all. 

“Only a Sith deals in these absolutes, Shin. We are not Sith,” He sounded tired, like a father explaining to his child that the park was closed and they could not go play until another day.

“I am what you made me!” When their saber ignited, the orange of her saber was bled out, barely visible behind the tangible reality of the pain Shin had been carrying. “This is the end for you, my Master.” 

Near red arced through the air towards Baylan’s head, he’d seemed to be in acceptance of his fate, Shin could finally be free of this pain. She could finally let the past die, she just had to kill it, and maybe then she would be able to breathe again.

A pillar of pink energy stopped her blade, Sabine Wren placing herself between Shin and Baylan, supporting her saber against a beskar gauntlet. “Shin, you need to stop,” The Mandalorian was out of breath, like she’d ran the whole way here, or had worked herself up at the thought of what she knew Shin would do.

“This isn’t you,” Sabine pleaded, trying to get yellowed eyes to look at her, to turn their murderous intent away from the man at her back. 

“You don’t know me,” Shin snarled, teeth bared. Her muscles were still weak, arms shaking as she pushed against Sabine’s saber, moving one foot forwards to attempt to bring her down like they had on Lothal. 

When the connection broke, Shin sidestepped, avoiding interlocking blades with Sabine again; She wasn’t their objective. If the Mandalorian wanted to stop her, then she would have to take Shin’s like. 

Baylan’s gaze was somber, yet he did not probe the bond he once had with the apprentice, did not offer a vocal apology; He felt he knew how this story would play out, that if Shin would commit themselves to killing him, then it was their destiny. “You promised!” Shin hissed, emotion closing at her throat as she swung her blade. Sabine’s use of the force was growing, enough to prevent the blade from doing much else to singe her Master’s robes. 

Throwing her saber to the ground, Shin decided she wanted to feel the life leave his body. He abandoned her, Thrawn left her to die, and the Force was nowhere when she needed it most. She would not kill him as his apprentice, but as the daughter he raised, as the bandit and the monster he’d crafted. 

Her fist cracked against his jaw with a snap of his head to the side. Her second hit went into the unarmored section of his gut, knuckles cracking over his liver and sending him doubling over. The armor at her knee rang when she brought it up to smash into his chin, his blood flying from his mouth in spittle as teeth cracked under the pressure. 

Shin followed him to the ground, knee pressing into his abdomen as her hands secured themselves around his throat. His hands pressed into her wrists, but the armor stopped him from being able to do anything. “You promised me, Master.” A fat tear dropped onto his cheek as Shin’s face reddened. ‘What did I do wrong?”

A large hand settled against Shin’s shoulder as Baylan’s face turned purple. “You need to let him go, Shin,” Ahsoka’s voice washed over her, urging her grip to loosen. Baylan’s breath rushed past his lips in a choked rasp. 

“No.” They vehemently declined like a petulant child. She wanted it to stop hurting- she needed it to stop hurting so bad. She could feel the stubble of rough hair against her fingertips in the holes of her gloves, could feel the warmth of his skin like a beacon of his life, life that she needed to take away. “He deserves it,” 

“Perhaps,” Ahsoka agreed, kneeling in the dirt beside Shin. “But you don’t want to be the one to do this.” The hand on her shoulder was an anchor, as was the warm thumb that pressed past the thick material of her cloak, rising goosebumps to sweat damp skin. “You don’t know that,” They argued, even as they felt the fight abandon them too. “You can’t know that.” 

“But I do, Shin.” Their eyes were still yellow, overpowering the pools of blue and silver, with dark veins spreading across pale skin, but Ahsoka could see that glimmer of hope, that promise that Shin was still good. “You’re in an unimaginable spot right now. And try as I may, I cannot make this decision for you. You have to decide for yourself.”

Ahsoka’s hand begun to raise from her shoulder, willing to leave Baylan’s fate up to the turmoiled blonde. Two hands wrapped around her wrist, keeping her hand in place; the choice was made. 

“Come on,” Ahsoka guided them up, off of Baylan, guiding their sorrowed eyes away from his broken face. They turned back at him one last time. “You said you'd never leave.”  Sabine was picking their saber from the ground, though instead of offering it back to the Apprentice, the weapon was handed to Ahsoka. Shin did not argue as the Togruta clipped it to her belt; wanted nothing to do with the near red blade, the reminder of how much she was failing in all of her teachings. 

Ahsoka walked with Shin all the way to the shuttle, where she dropped bonelessly into a seat in the cockpit, hands in her lap, staring at the flashes of scarred, pale skin that poked through the holes in her gloves. Their fingers clenched and unclenched; Baylan deserved to die, he promised he’d never leave, promised he would always be there, and yet… He left, he left her alone on a planet far from home, on a mission she did not agree with. 

Now she was stranded on the graveyard planet, housed by the enemy, and abandoning all of the teachings she had once been so eager to learn..

Ahsoka settled into the seat across from her much more gracefully. Her hand reached out once more to touch the cool skin just above their gauntlet, bringing their focus back up. “You did good, Shin,” Ahsoka praised, fingertips grazing tensing muscle, easing the stiffness. 

“I was going to kill him,” They argued, though their voice held no fire, their accent thicker than could translate to basic, words slurring as she reverted to a language that had been dead to her for so long. “I wanted to kill him… I want-”

“But you didn’t, because that isn’t who you are.” “Why is everyone so intent on telling me who I am?” They seethed, leather gloves creaking as their hands flexed in anger. 

“Because you need the reminder that you are more than you’re seeing yourself as, right now.” Ahsoka pulled Shin’s saber from her hip, holding it into the chasm between them. Shin stared at the weapon sourly, as if it could be at fault for her pain. “Take your kyber,”

With a sigh, Shin reached for the saber, though it was pulled away before her fingertips could brush cold metal. “With the force, Kurs’kaded.” Sabine spoke up, alerting the Apprentice to her presence, leaning in the open doorway; she hadn’t heard the Mandalorian come in, the force hadn’t given her the brush of whatever it was she’d grown used to with Sabine’s presence. 

“I don’t need the force, and I don’t need you.” They snapped, rising to their feet harshly. She turned away from her saber and faced the door, staring past the faded paint on Sabine’s pauldron as they started for the door. “I can’t let you go,” Sabine’s hand reached out, pressing on Shin’s shoulder, barring her from the exit. “Not like this,”

“It’s none of your concern,” Shin had growled, fingers wrapped around Sabine’s elbow, rearing to flip their positions, to fight her way out if not for the burn of muscle, than for the promise if she got too far, they would kill her.

“What if you don’t come back, Shin?” Sabine wasn’t looking at her, golden eyes focused on the ragged scars from the blade that had ripped her open, had brought her to them after months of isolation from everything. This was enough to give Shin pause, to stop pressing against Sabine’s hand, and to watch as The Mandalorian’s hand shook where it parted Ahsoka’s cloak further across her bare abdomen.

Her fingertips were cool against inflamed scar tissue, still in the painful process of healing without the aid of bacta or any real medical supplies over the alcohol created by the Noti to help keep it sterilized. Shin swallowed thick in her throat. She could feel the Togruta’s eyes on her back, but the glide of Sabine’s fingers along her scar and the way the Mandalorian’s hand pressed against the plate of armor over her abdomen, where Shin knew her own scar sat healed under all the layers.

“What if you leave, and we can’t get to you in time?” There was a vulnerability to Sabine’s voice, a hurt that Shin found she did not like being the cause of on her face. “What if you come back wrong?” 

“Careful, Mandalorian; Someone might start to think you care.” Their voice was raspy, cracking with unidentified emotion as their hand finally dropped from Sabine’s elbow. 

“Seriously?” Sabine scoffed, the jab of her finger into their stomach had them yipping in surprise, stepping back, away from the shock of pain. “All this and you didn’t figure that one out? Are you a di’kut?” The next time Sabine touched her, it was with the palm of her hand into their shoulder, forcing them back into the chair. 

Shin’s head turned to pass a helpless look towards the amused Jedi Master as Sabine’s fingers gripped at her jaw, forcing them to look her in the eye. “Of course I fucking care. I’ve cared since you stabbed me, I’ve cared since Seatos, I’ve always fucking cared.” 

Shin’s gaze was fixed on Sabine’s narrowed eyes, on the twitch of muscle under the collar of her flight suit, and on the smooth furrow of her brows. 

She’s beautiful…

Ahsoka stood and brushed past Sabine; The Apprentice watched in her peripherals as their saber hilt was clasped to Sabine’s belt, before the Jedi was sweeping from the cockpit with the door swooshing shut behind her.

The moment the door shut, Sabine’s lips were pressing against theirs, urging their eyes to close and their hands to move back to the Mandalorian’s elbows as she leaned onto the arm rests of the cockpit’s chair. 

Shin’s heart thudded against her chest, with each thump entwined with the glide of Sabine’s tongue across her lips, the anger faded, the hurt eased, finally offering the sought after reprieve from the hurt. 

Sabine pulled back, breathing hard as their eyes blinked open. “I care, and I’m not leaving.” She whispered in their shared air, hand raising to brush against their cheekbone before she was leaning back, dropping into the chair Ahsoka had once occupied.

“Now take your saber back; we’ll fix it together,” 

Begrudgingly, Shin sighed and raised her hands. Opening back up to the force after months of trying didn’t go as she’d prepared herself. For the first time since Seatos, it felt like coming home again, as she felt the life spark back into her being, reclaiming her space in the cosmic flow of life, interweaving her story back in the threads of the universe. It was overwhelming and it hurt, until she felt the warmth of someone pressing forward with her, someone whose fate was  so so intricately woven with her own existence. When silver eyes opened, Shin caught the look of concentration on Sabine’s face, and the crack of a smile on her lips when her eyes opened and caught Shin staring. 

It took some work to figure out the flow between them, as Shin’s saber was brought to hover between them, pieces unfolded from each other as they slowly worked to expose the wounded Kyber. She’d bled it a lot, had made her crystal hurt the way Baylan had made her hurt, and it was evident in the darkness and the blood of the force threatening to overshadow the orange, but… it wasn’t too late. 

Shin had many dreams healing from her wounds, months back, but in her fever, she could recall the feeling of Ahsoka’s hands brushing through her hair, of delicate fingers smoothing the rough edges of her braid, and the promise of “It’s never too late.” Passed between the silence, a promise that they hadn’t been able to understand.

Now though, with Sabine’s form rising from her seat, Shin watched as the woman’s fingers brushed against her Kyber, the pad of her thumb trailing along the ridge from where she’d snapped it from the peak on Ilum herself. “It’s okay,” Sabine promised, gently; Shin could feel it, could feel her words and her touch as if her and the Kyber were of the same entity, as if, in the red that Sabine was urging away from the crystal, she was easing the darkened blood from her own presence in the force.

Shaking her head, Shin rose, trapping the Kyber between their hands as they interlocked their fingers with Sabine’s. The Mandalorian glanced at her once, before her eyes shut. Her forehead pressed against their joined hands. Shifting their weight between their feet, Shin’s head bowed, fingers squeezing against Sabine’s. “I am one with the force…”

“And the force is with me,” 

When they separated, there was no red to be found in the glowing Kyber, a bright, vivid orange, paler than she’d seen but still bearing the unique coloring, floated between them peacefully, held up by the combined force of both apprentice and padawan. 

“I know you,” Sabine promised, as they worked to reassemble the saber together. “Forever. You hear me?” She grabbed the saber from its stasis, pressing it into Shin’s waiting palm. “You can stab me, you can call me names, and you can walk away right now, but don’t you dare forget; I know you, and I care.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shin promised, closing the distance and hesitantly moving to rest her forehead against the feisty Mandalorian. 

Sabine’s arms circled their neck, noses bumping together as she leaned up on her toes, fingers carding through the short, scruffy hair on the back of their head. “Better… say it again,” 

Rolling their eyes, Shin pressed forward to shut her up, pressing their lips together with little fanfare, hands moving to rest on Sabine’s sides, thumb pressing into the space between beskar and flightsuit to brush against the fabric over her scar. 

Baylan Skoll would go on to become their prisoner, but Shin would not give him the glory of a reaction, or a response when, the next time they visited, her padawan braid was gone, cut with care by the Togruta who held out her hand in kindness when he had left. 

She wasn’t a Jedi and she wasn’t a sith; She was just Shin Hati, and Sabine was just Sabine; together and individually, they were both Enough, and that was good enough.

[serickswrites]

Never Leave

Warnings: captivity, yandere

Whumpee sighed. They leaned their head back agains the rim of the tub, relishing in the heat of the water and the peacefulness of the moment. It had been a long time since they'd been able to relax like this.

Whumper had made it difficult for Whumpee to do anything alone. They always wanted to be with Whumpee, to do everything with Whumpee. Whumpee had thought they were a good match, that they would fall in love and live happily ever after.

They were wrong.

Whumper had been demanding, jealous, and unwilling to trust Whumpee at every turn. They followed Whumpee everywhere. Listened to their calls. Wouldn't let Whumpee's friends come over.

It had taken everything in Whumpee to escape. And now that they were free of Whumper, they realized they were such a fool thinking that Whumper loved them.

The only thing Whumper was with them was obsessed.

But now they were free of Whumper and they could start again. They sunk deeper in the tub, happy to finally relax.

"You said you'd never leave," Whumper's soft voice came from the bathroom door.

Whumpee wrenched their eyelids open as panic gripped their heart. "Whumper...I--"

Whumper stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. "You said you'd never leave me. And yet you did. You lied to me!" Their voice was dangerously quiet. Whumper always got this quiet before they did something terrible.

"Whumper, please, I--"

Whumper beamed down at Whumpee. Their sudden change in demeanor had Whumpee swallowing. This was not good. "Don't worry, Whumpee. We have all the time in the world for you to make it up to me."

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #10

Trope of the day: “You said you'd never leave.”

_

Whumpee holds onto caretaker for their dear life. The other is barely conscious, bleeding from several wounds, most of which whumpee somehow managed to patch up. At least to some extent.

"Don't close your eyes," they sob and put a hand on caretaker's pale cheek, fingers slick with blood. "Come on, look at me." Whumpee sees caretaker fight their heavy lids, eyes finally meeting theirs.

“You said you'd never leave.” Whumpee's tears drip into caretaker's face as sob after sob shakes their body. "Never. N-never is a strong word. Don't you dare closing your eyes on me."

Caretaker's shaky hand lands on whumpee's, still stroking their cheek, as whumpee cries and tries to smile. “You said you'd never leave. You promised,” they repeat and kiss caretaker on the forehead.

[lbibliophile-sw]

Missing you at my side

Also on AO3 @whumptober-archive - day 10: "you said you'd never leave" @clonefandomevents - Haunted Clones week - day 3: marching far away (but still beside me) @clonefandomevents - 501 Bingo: facing fears

When Fives looks over his shoulder and finds the space empty, he hurts twice.

First, because Echo is gone. A split-second wrong decision, a ruined helmet on blackened ground, and only one Domino returned from the mission.

Second, because Echo is gone. Brothers never truly leave — a whispered warning of danger in your ear, a comforting hand in the dark. Yet Fives is alone.

When Fives dies, looks over his shoulder and finds the space filled, he hurts three times:

Echo was gone. And Echo did not return. Because Echo is alive...

Meaning Fives is the one who abandoned him.

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

whumptober 2023 - day 10 broken phone // "you said you'd never leave"

[comfy-whumpee]

Echoes

Whumptober Day 10 - "You said you'd never leave me." CN: referenced domestic violence, minor whump.

Jax taglist: @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @burtlederp, @rosesareviolentlyread, @eatyourdamnpears

Savvie, Izzy and Jamie belong to @ashintheairlikesnow.

-

She says, “You said you’d never leave me.”

She is staring at him from across the metal table. The inmate jumpsuit is a good look on her, he can’t deny, and he likes seeing her hands cuffed to the table too, unable to grab or touch him anywhere at all. Her nails are short and round and unpainted, which he has never seen before.

She says, “You’re mine, Jax.” She has tied her hair back from her face and it makes her look more her age. He looks older than her, has for years, because of how they have lived. But now, she looks as haggard as he feels, without the makeup he is used to seeing on her.

He doesn’t have an answer for her demand. He remembers promising many times that he wouldn’t leave her. He’d never betray her. He couldn’t. That always satisfied her well enough.

Of course, the moment he could, that all became moot. But he’d said all the right promises without worrying about that. Looking to the future was never his strong suit, anyway.

“I thought you loved us,” Savvie continues. She doesn’t need him to reply. “I thought you cared about us, as a family, Jax. But you just wanted to hurt us.”

Jax thinks about her nearly dropping Jamie when he spit up on her shirt. He thinks about Izzy coming into the kitchen white as a sheet from one of her ‘talks’. He thinks about how sound carries in her old house, and how both kids have heard his screams.

“My poor babies.” Savvie is a one-woman show of grief. Her eyes glitter with crystalline tears, but they don't leave him, watching for his reaction. “You can’t take them from me. They’re mine, Jax. I’ll fight for them. I just need to see them again, to make sure they understand what’s happening, to make sure they know why you decided to break up our family.”

“You did that, Savvie,” he interjects. “You did that every time you took me away from them.”

“You never wanted them,” she replies dismissively, trying and failing to gesture with a rattle of chain. “You just wanted to lecture me about them. It’s thanks to me they even exist.”

That is all true. But none of it matters. It stopped mattering as soon as there became real children involved. He couldn’t just abandon a baby to her.

“You’ve ruined our family,” she adds. She’s been refuelled by his words. He needs to stay quiet. “It will never, ever be the same, after what you’ve done. I hope you’re happy, Jax. I’ll never be happy again.”

His mouth is already open to speak, to retort, when she adds the rest. But it only becomes more true. “Here’s hoping.”

-

“Daddy,” she sniffles, arms tight around his waist. Her face is pressed into his stomach and he strokes her hair gently. “I’m sorry, daddy,” she hiccups. “Please d-don’t go without me an’ Jamie, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you two,” he promises. He gently loosens her arms, but keeps hold of her hands as he drops stiffly to one knee. He meets her wide, tear-filled eyes. “Hey. I said I’d never leave you two, didn’t I?”

She stares at him, full of fear. He should have seen it coming, of course. He can’t talk about a holiday without reminding her of Savvie’s version of a weekend getaway: kids abandoned with zero warning, sudden trips to the airport while they were still asleep, Jax dragged along on half-baked promises that Isaac would send someone.

“I want to go on holiday with you both,” he promises her. Her little hands are gripping his back, her fingers soft and warm against his callouses. “That’s what holidays are like now. I will never run away on holiday without you, especially not if you are sleeping.”

“Never ever?” she asks, her gaze so afraid and so desperately trusting.

The weight of his words feels so heavy, knowing she will hold onto them tightly, repeating them over and over to herself. How to pick words that will comfort her through all their uses?

He starts with the fundamentals. “Family is me, you and Jamie.” No Mommy. No Savvie. Not even grandpa makes the cut, at the end of the day. With this established, he adds, “Family holiday has to be me, you and Jamie too.”

She leans forwards, asking for a hug in that careful way she has with touch. Touch with him, anyway. She isn’t this cautious with the others.

He hugs her close. “Never, ever,” he repeats. Sometimes he likes to imagine how long he could go without un-hugging his baby girl. He could sleep with her in his arms again. He can eat with her on his lap. Walk the dogs with her in his arms. He could keep hold of her forever.

Of course, it’s just an instinct. He lets her go. “And,” he adds, to lift her spirits, “you get a say in where we go on holiday, now. We choose together.”

She doesn’t care as long as she’s with him, he knows. It’s the same for him. But maybe, with some time, he can get her excited for the holiday, and give her back some of the joy she never had.

Here’s hoping.

[l4ndojpg]

Whumtober 2023, Day 10: "You said you'd never leave."

fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid (centric), diana reid, derek morgan, aaron hotchner, jennifer jaraeu, penelope garcia, emily prentiss | ship: past spencer reid/elle greenaway | trigger warnings: parent abandonment, depression, grief | content: spencer reflects on the people who have left him over the course of his life and grieves | word count: 1.3k.

“The five stages of grief,” Spencer says, standing in front of his geographical profile addressing officers on a case, “is a model developed by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, and became famous after she published her book On Death and Dying in 1969. Kübler-Ross developed her model to describe people with terminal illness facing their own death, but it was soon adapted as a way of thinking about grief in general. 

“We believe this unsub is not grieving death in his life, but rather, great loss in general. The five stages are often mistaken to only be relevant to death, because of the term grief. But in fact, you can grieve many things, and you can go through the stages in any order. This unsub has been left by so many people - his mother, father, siblings, partner and only close friend because of his sociopathic tendencies, and he is grieving these losses like they’re death. We believe he is in the anger stage, hence his violent behavior.” Spencer turns to look at Rossi, who takes point from there, going on to describe what the officers should be looking for. Once they’ve dismissed the locals, Spencer excuses himself. 

Once he’s out in the fresh air, he takes a huge, shaking breath in, and raises a trembling hand to rub at his eyes. Penelope had relayed a list of people who had left this unsub to them over the phone, and Spencer had found himself growing more and more uncomfortable as each name had been read off the list. It’s only been a few weeks since Hotch left to go into witness protection, and though Spencer knows there was no other option, he can’t help but feel betrayed. It’s torn open old wounds for him: the amount of people that have left Spencer is laughable. He’s only ever had a handful of people he’s let in close see his vulnerabilities, and it feels like it always ends with them leaving. 

Spencer’s brain knows none of the people who have left him because of anything to do with him. 

Spencer’s heart aches with loneliness and grief, and always finds a way to make it his fault. 

Denial

“Spencer, what are you doing? It’s nearly midnight,” Diana Reid says, shivering and pulling her dressing gown around her tighter. She approaches her twelve year old son, who sits in the living room, staring out the window that watches over their driveway. 

“Sometimes when Dad leaves, he forgets his keys. I’m just making sure he doesn’t get locked out if he comes back,” Spencer says calmly. Diana sighs and takes a seat next to her son. 

“Sweetheart,” she says, “look at me.” 

Spencer turns to face his mother, eyes wide and tired behind his too-big glasses. 

“We’ve been over this. Your father isn’t coming back,” her voice quivers and cracks. 

“But you don’t know that,” Spencer argues gently. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“I’ve known your dad for a long time, Spencer. When he makes a decision, he sticks to it,” Diana says sadly. 

Spencer shakes his head stubbornly and turns to look back out the window. 

“You don’t know that for sure.” 

2. Anger 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Spencer says, his voice low and gruff. Morgan is taken aback by his friend's tone. He’s known Spencer for close to two years now, and he’s never heard so much anger in the young man’s voice. Spencer is by nature incredibly gentle, and he’s surprised at the sudden turn in emotions a week after Elle has left the BAU. 

“I get that. But you seem - well, really tightly wound. And I thought talking might help. I know you and Elle were… close-,”

“You can just say we were fucking,” Spencer snaps, and now Morgan is really concerned. The Spencer he knows would never use such colloquial language to describe the sort of relationship he and Elle had, let alone snap like that.

“I-,” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Morgan,” Spencer says tightly, clenching his jaw. “I thought she trusted me enough to talk to me about what was going on, and I was wrong. She’s gone, she’s not coming back, end of story.” Spencer walks away, fists tightly balled at his sides. 

3. Depression

“I thought I might find you here,” a voice says, and Spencer looks up sharply from where he’s sitting, curled in the corner of the living room of Gideon’s cabin. He swipes at the tears on his face and sniffs, trying to pretend he hasn’t spent the last four hours sitting here, shivering and crying like a pathetic little kid. 

“S-sorry, did - do we have a case?” Spencer says, his voice shaky and hoarse. 

“No,” Hotch says, lowering himself to the ground in front of Spencer and watching him carefully. “No case. But I went to check on you at your apartment this evening, and you weren’t there.” 

“You came to check on me?” 

Hotch sighs. “I know what Gideon meant to you. And it seemed to hit you very suddenly yesterday that he isn’t coming back.” 

Even just hearing Hotch say it makes Spencer’s heart ache. His lower lip trembles, and he’s furious that he’s doing this here and now and in front of Hotch nonetheless, but he can’t help it. The tears spill down his cheeks suddenly. 

“It’s okay to be sad,” Hotch says gently, in a voice reserved only for Spencer’s lowest moments. “Allow yourself that.” 

“I feel like he took a piece of me with him,” Spencer sobs. 

Hotch reaches out and squeezes his hand. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Spencer squeezes back. “Please don’t leave me too,” he chokes, and Hotch sighs shakily. 

“No, Spencer, I won’t. I won’t ever leave you.” 

4. Bargaining 

“But now that I know,” Spencer argues, “it’ll be easier for her to come back. She’s opened up to me and I understand why things were difficult for her, and if I just tell her that I’ll be able to help her through it, that we’re all supporting her-,” 

“Spence,” JJ sighs, “I know it’s hard, but Blake made her decision. We have to respect that.” 

“But if I just talk to her,” Spencer says, not taking in a single word JJ says, “I can help her understand. I can help her come back and feel comfortable.” 

“Spence,” JJ says again. “I know your relationship with Alex was unique. I know you trusted her quicker than  you’ve ever grown to trust anyone. She felt the same way about you, that’s why she told you about her son. But that’s all the more reason to trust that she’s made the right decision for herself.” 

Spencer is quiet for a moment. Then - 

“But if I just call her…” 

5. Acceptance 

“I miss him,” Spencer announces, entering Penelope’s office and flopping down on a chair beside her. “I miss Morgan.” 

“Me too, sweetpea,” she sighs, offering him a cookie from the tin she keeps on her desk. He shakes his head in response. She pulls one out and begins to munch on it. 

“I’m happy for him, you know? Like, really happy. I’ve said that, right? I told him I was happy for him?” 

“Only a million times,” Penelope says through a mouthful of chocolate chips. 

“But I still miss him. And I still wish he was here. Is that horrible?” 

“Oh Spencer, no,” she says, swallowing and smiling at him sadly. “You’re allowed to be sad. I’m devastated, but I’m still buzzing with joy over the fact that there’s a little baby Derek running around. It’s okay to feel both, you know.” 

“Yeah,” Spencer says, sadly. “I suppose it is.” 

6. …

Emily announces Hotch has gone into witness protection, and it’s like the wind has been knocked out of him. He knows Hotch doesn’t have a choice. He knows Hotch will do anything to protect his son, including staying in witsec however long he needs to. But emotions still flood him, overwhelm him, kick and scratch and punch him. His face burns and hot tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. He squeezes his eyes shut against the tsunami of grief. 

“You said you’d never leave,” he whispers  to the empty conference room. Everyone’s gone, and now it’s just Spencer and the ghosts of all the people who have once sat in this room and chosen to leave him. “You said you’d never leave.” 

[po3tictrag3dy]

one of the saddest things in life is seeing a YouTuber that i've loved for years abandoning their channels in favor of creating Minecraft Slop with bright colors, fast editing, and loud noises to appeal to the algorithm and childrens short attention spans. leaving your 10+ years on YouTube behind just to start over with mid content you pump out multiple times a week because THAT'S what pushes you over 1M views. do those 4.72 Million subscribers feel good? does that bring you joy? was that 600K not enough? what happened to when you put your heart and soul into your videos and during live streams you would remember every single viewer, their names, what was going on with them, etc...? it's just disheartening and sad. all i can wonder is

Do you miss that?