#I’m so upset I could cry but that’s pointless

[nullians]

.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!!! I really really love how you write Lily! Could you please write something where Lily is comforting the reader who’s going through a friendship breakup and is taking it really hard?

Thanks lovely! <3

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 864 words

You can tell your moping is starting to make your girlfriend nervous. She keeps bringing you things as she bakes, first the beaters to lick clean, then a spoonful of dough, and now cookies in droves, two or three at a time as different rounds come out of the oven and delivered with brief, cajoling kisses. She’s trying to infuse you with a better mood by all manner of sweet things. 

“I’m okay,” you promise as she comes back in, your plate reloaded. “I really am full this time, baby.” 

Lily hums discontentedly but sets the cookies down. “And when you say you’re okay,” she says, perching on the armrest beside where you’re sitting on the couch, “do you mean you’re okay without more food, or…” 

“In general,” you reassure her. “I’m alright, really. I can feel you worrying.” 

Her fingers skim down your hair, slotting a piece behind your ear. “Well, I don’t mean to make you feel my worry,” she says, “but I don’t mind worrying. And this would be a…a very understandable thing to be not okay about.” 

You can’t quite look at her. “Yeah.” You shrug, trying to sound lighter than you feel. “I just figure there’s not much point in being all sad about something I can’t fix. Best to move on, you know?” 

“I do know a thing or two about losing someone you’re close to,” Lily agrees. 

And she does, you remember. Her sister. You look up, shameful, but she only smiles gently. 

“Moving on does help, definitely, but you can’t really just skip over the feelings, either. It’s…” Her expression goes sheepish. “Well, it sounds sort of awful to say, but it’s almost like they’ve died, isn’t it? At least, the relationship you had did.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, relieved. You’d felt wrong for thinking it, but you’ve been feeling the same. The awkward, unidentifiable tension you’ve been carrying around starts to uncoil. “It’s really weird, not talking to them.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” She takes your hand, rubbing her thumb over yours softly. Her eyes are heavy with understanding. “It’ll probably always be weird, if I’m honest. But it won’t always hurt so terribly. You know this is the right thing for both of you.” 

“I know,” you say, shallowing your breaths in an attempt to suppress the tears stinging in your eyes. Lily strokes a short line into the back of your hand. You can feel the weight of her gaze on you, but you keep your stare determinedly downward, blinking forcefully. “Sorry,” you choke out. “I don’t mean to be such a drag.” 

“Baby,” Lily laughs, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other around your head as she pulls you into her chest. And she’s all softness; soft flesh giving way to your shoulder, and a soft hand cradling your face, the soft silk of her hair tickling your nose as it falls around your face like a curtain. 

“You’re not a drag,” she promises, “you’re just sad. It’s okay to be sad, my love. Don’t stopper yourself up on my account, okay? Please.” 

You don’t cry for long, possibly because there’s not much left to cry for. You’re both right; what’s done is done, and it’ll hurt even if that hurt is pointless. You’ve lost someone who other people still get to have, or maybe you’ve lost the love more than the person, and maybe that’s worse. You can’t fix it, don’t want to, so this is all that’s left to do. Miss it. 

“My sweet girl,” Lily murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry. You’ll be alright, I promise.” 

“I know,” you say croakily. You reach up to wipe your eyes, but she beats you to it, thumb stroking underneath your lashes with enough care to nearly have you bursting into tears all over again. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be, you haven’t done anything wrong.” She sounds almost pleading. “You’re allowed to be upset, okay? Really, I’ve been counting on it all day. I’m just glad you didn’t go to bed without letting yourself have a cry. I was starting to really worry.” 

“Is that what the cookies have been about?” you tease, feeling lighter as tears cool on your cheeks. Your voice comes out easier. 

Lily hums. “Perhaps.” 

“Wait, really?” You pull away from her chest so you can see her. “You were trying to feed me until I felt better?” 

“Well, would there be anything wrong with that?” 

“No,” you laugh, “but I feel like it’d have been a lot less effort just to cuddle.” 

Lily beams, then looks guilty for it, tapering her smile down into something more sheepish. “I could still do that,” she says, slipping off the armrest and into your lap. You bite down on your own smile as she smears a kiss over your cheek. “I’ve got more cookies coming out in a few minutes, but aside from that brief interruption I’m all yours.” 

“More cookies?” you ask, leaning back to peer into the kitchen at the overflowing cooling racks. “How many are there going to be?” 

“You seemed very sad,” she reasons, stroking a piece of hair near your face. “It’s possible I may have overcompensated.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Wash away the blood on my hands

a/n nothing I can tell you…

summary: honestly just a iv x reader x iii smut. When life throws you to the curb it’s in the embrace of two masked men that you find your salvation.

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It still felt almost pathetic to crawl back to them. You liked having power in this. Never being the one to seek them out. Letting them do the groveling. Slither like serpents into your embrace. But tonight, you were too desperate. Too much in need for something to chase the nagging voices away. You had tried it all at this point. Everything that usually worked on setting your mind back on track. But it was pointless tonight.  

So here you were, navigating the dim hotel hallways at almost two a.m. It had started so innocently—the connection between you three. It was almost a given. Whatever happened between Vessel and II while they were writing music was for them and them only. Each of you were more than aware that you would never compare. Would never match that. Never reach the same level of intensity that rushed when they came together. So you never tried. What was the point? That, however, left you there on your own devices when the nights mid-tour got too long and lonely. 

The first time it happened, you three had been lounging in the tour bus. A beer in hand. Laughing about the stupidest shit. In your hazy state, you had let it slip that you hadn’t had an orgasm in months. No matter what you did, nothing could ever tip you over the edge. The look iii and ivy shared had sent a shiver down your back. But it didn’t compare to the feeling of their eyes falling on you. No words were needed. None were shared. And the rest was history. 

Knocking on the door marked with the number given to you, you waited. Hoping that enough heartbeats would pass by for you to change your mind. Turn on your heels and leave. But the door swung open, revealing a shirtless iii with messy hair. Your eyes fell to the peak of the room stretching out behind him. Of iv slowly pulling the white sheets over his naked body. “You’re busy?”, you swallowed thickly. Walk away; you mentally scolded yourself; it’s their time alone; if they wanted you there, they would have said something. Yet a peg of pain still pierced your heart. “Never for you, mouse,"  iii chuckled slightly, hooking a finger beneath your chin. Tilting your face up. The cocky smirk simmered down the moment his eyes landed on your puffy eyes. “What’s wrong?”, and here it was, the class clown turning into a feral guard dong in the blink of an eye. 

You slowly shook your head, “Not tonight."  Reaching out, you squeezed his hand. “Come on,"  he said, pulling at your hand, bringing you into the dim room. “Isn’t it our favorite girl?", iv called from the bed, pulling his boxers back on. “Don’t get dressed on my account," you pointed out. "Unless, of course, you want me to take them off you once again," you mused, shrugging your t-shirt off and tossing it across the room. 

“Nah, we have a rule," iii said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not fucking you when you’re upset about something."  You shot him a warning look, daring him to push your buttons any further. “Have you been crying?”, iv’s fingers trailed up your neck as he stepped closer to you. Those blue eyes crashed into you with so much force that it sent all the air tumbling out of your lungs. “Can we do all this later, after you fuck my brain out?” you pleaded, “I just want to forget for a while." This wasn’t a first. All of you had leaches in your brain. Through the past year, more than a handful of nights were spent plucking each other’s fears and self-doubts with roots deeply embedded in one’s soul. 

“Say less," iv mussed against your ear. He pushed your hair over your shoulder as his lips pressed against your skin. Breathing life back into you. His fingers aimlessly work with the zipper of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. You could hear iii whistling from behind you, “No panties, naughty."  His warmth seeped into your back a moment later. “A girl with a mission on her mind. We left you alone for a night, and you already couldn’t take it." His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, causing your eyelids to flutter. 

“I hate you," you muttered, reaching up to pull at the roots of his hair. "Bet,"  he chuckled deeply, his fingers slowly trailing down your lower stomach and between your thighs. Making you let out a sigh of relief. “I can tell from the way you’re dripping onto my fingers, and we haven’t even started," he hummed making iv snort. “What does that say about you, darling, hm?”, iv leaned in, fingers brushing over your breast before he moved to pinch your nipple. 

“I want you,"  you moaned out, grinding back against iii, feeling him slowly getting harder as he bucked his hips against your ass. “It couldn’t be more obvious,"  he grunted against your ear. "Shower,"  you muttered, earning a collective “huh” from both of the boys. “Can we do it in the bathroom?” slowly licking your lips, you watched as both of their pupils dilated. “You little freak," iii huffed, hooking one arm beneath your bum. You only had a chance to let out a shriek as your hands leaned forward to brace against his shoulders. He covered the distance in a total of four steps. 

Your back hit the back wall tiles, and you quickly wrapped your legs around his torso. iii lips crashed into you so fast you didn’t get a chance to take a breath in, and then a stream of water crashed onto the both of you. Drowning out the last echoes in your mind. He was everywhere. Every inch of your body hummed to the feeling of iii squeezing your thighs as he bucked against you. The feeling of his semi-hard dick, still clothed in black boxers, slipping between your folds made you cry into the kiss. 

“Don’t leave me hanging you two," iv chuckled. You pulled back from iii, watching iv slowly pump his hand up and down his cock as he made his way to you. Where you and iii usually collided like two stars, leaving nothing but ruins in your path, iv weathered the storms you both caused. Like a shore, taking the beating of the waves over and over again. 

iii, slowly let your legs hit the floor once again. Your eyes lingered on him before iv pressed against your back, pulling you against his chest. “iii, why don’t you show your little siren just how much we want her in return?", iv mused. iii didn’t have to be told twice as he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, sending your stomach tumbling down at the sight. That alone made you weak in your knees, so the moment he leaned in, nibbling on your thigh, your whole world tilted. His tongue lapped at your heat mercilessly. A cry that slipped past your lips felt inhuman. iii parted your legs ever so slightly, giving himself more room. “Fuuuck," you mulled, bucking your hips against him even more. “Look at him worshipping you," iv muttered, brushing some of the wet strands of hair away from iii face before sliding his hand up your chest. “Only you get treatment like that, love," he said, slowly nibbling at your shoulder, nudging the tip of his cock between your thighs. "Ivy," you grunted, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. “Gonna cum on iii tongue?”, he touted, “I know you want to, baby."  His hand reached out, clasping your hands beneath your back. Pulling you away from touching iii, the lost contact made you grunt before iii reached up, circling your clit with his fingers before dipping them between your folds. “Oh, god...", you whimpered. That familiar feeling of his fingers beckoning at you from within your walls turned your legs into jelly. “Give her one more," iv mused, his free hand roughly palming your breast. “No, no…”, you shook your head, knowing that would be your undoing. But the devil worked harder and faster. iii grazed his teeth over your bundle of nerves, pumping his fingers in and out of you. And you were done for. The heat in your stomach pooled, as a shuttering cry left your lisps, making legs buck. But iv was quick to keep you upright, pressing firmer into you, pushing your throwing heat even more at the mercy of iii. 

“Good girl," he breathed against you, pulling your head to the side as he kisses your lips. Further sending the dizzy spell into motion. “Got to get creative over here," iii mused, licking his lips, “I call dibs on fucking her tonight." You pulled away from iv, gasping for air as he shoved your body beneath the water for a moment. “Guess you’ll have to blow me, baby." You nod at iv words. Ready to do about anything the two would ask of you.

“I guess I’m getting a king treatment tonight," iv snorted, palming himself a couple of times as he sat down on the built-in ledge, parting his legs. “His dick won’t suck itself, mouse," iii pushed at your shoulder, sending you down onto your knees. You licked your lips, wrapping your hands around his cock, pumping him slowly. Keeping your eyes on him as you slide just the tip between your lips, sucking on it ever so slightly before pulling away with a pop. “Don’t fucking tease," iv grunted, fingers threading through your hair. “Not my problem, you’re so hard," you crocked out, making iii chuckle from behind you. “You little, slut," iv grunted, pulling your head back slightly. “Put your mouth to use before I do it for you," at that you leaned in, sliding your tongue over his length, making a grunt slip past his lips. You swirled your tongue over his tip once more, savoring the salty flavor of pre-cum, before bopping your head down. 

“Good fucking girl," iv moaned, fisting your hair as you hollowed out your cheeks for him, taking him deeper. "Pretty," iii mused, “Let’s see if you can keep that up while I’m fucking you from behind."  He sinked into you with such ease that it should be shameful. Your joined moans fill the steamy room as that drug like pleasure filled your bodies. As you all chased that high. You dug your fingers into iv’s thighs at the feeling of iii stretching you out. Welcoming the slight pain it caused you. 

Your moan vibrated around iv shaft, making him press your head down even further, causing your eyes to water as you gagged around him. “Jesus”, iii grunted from the back of you as his hips found a rapid rhythm. You felt them both twitching within you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“You feel like a fucking dream," iv whimpered, using your mouth to chase his pleasure, your drool coating his thighs. You could only hum around him as iii slipped his hand to circle your clit. Feeling your body slowly seizing as your second orgasm bloomed. iii let out a low grunt as he pounded into you, making your vision blank with pleasure. 

“Can I... fuck... can I cum in your mouth?", iv grunted through clenched teeth. You only got to hum before warm ropes of cum painted the back of your throat. And then you all crumpled, one after the other. The feeling of iv twitching in your mouth as you choked on him sent you over the edge. Causing you to clench around iii, who within a couple of thrusts griped your hips with such force as he too let his warmth fill the depths of you. Making you sob as the pleasure consumed you. 

Gasping for air, you pull away from iv, only to let your head slump against his thigh. iii’s hand was already grasping iv’s other leg as he too breathed heavily. “I think I just saw what the afterlife looks like," iv mused, making both of you chuckle lightly. “You good?”, his warm fingers traced your cheeks, making you blink up at him slowly. “Yeah," you crocked out, feeling the burn in the back of your throat. “I never came so hard in my life," iii blew out a breath, “took the air right out of my lungs." You wanted to throw a cocky line, but your brain was as blank as paper. The moment iii pulled out and his body no longer supported yours, you slumped completely, making the two males reach out to steady you with unmatched speed. 

“I think we restarted her system a bit too good,"  iv snorted. “We got you, mouse,"  iii looped an arm around your torso, “None of your demons will get to you when we’re around," hoisting you up on your feet as if you weighed nothing, he pulled the shower head to rinse the cum painting your legs and chest. “Bedtime for you," iii hummed, kissing the side of your head. Hoking an arm beneath your knees, lifting you up. You curled against him, savoring the warmth of his body. “I think we need to order room service”," ivy chirped, tossing a towel onto the bed so iii could dry your hair. “Now you’re speaking my language,"  iii nodded, eyes fixed on your dazed face as you blinked up at the ceiling. “I think we’ve been talking in the same language for quite some time now, mate," iv shrugged before dialing the number. 

[sunlight-fics]

Andrew x reader during and after fights headcanon!!!

I have been dying for someone to request something like this!!!!

———————————————————————

Hozier X Reader headcanons

During and after a fight/argument

Warnings: cussing

During the argument

(This isn’t a simple/little argument)

* He would most definitely get over defensive

* You both would be afraid that this argument would cause a break up

* Both equally to prideful to be proven wrong in this situation

* He would get so mad to the point that he would start pacing back and forth

* You would definitely get so mad that you would call him by his full name (first middle and last name)

* It was absolutely devastating for him to see you cry at your breaking point

* You would probably get so mad that you would cuss him out

* “No wonder they all left, who could love you?!” Said With all intentions to hurt

* “I- you know what…. Forgot it. It’s pointless to argue with someone like yourself, motherfucker.”

* His heart is absolutely broken but he’s is not about to let down his guard.

* You ended up say at a friends house until you felt like the tension was gone(you were wrong)

* “Of course! Of course I’m never enough for you!”

* “I am tired and over this. Please just leave!”

*************************************************

After the argument

(Don’t worry y’all get a happy ending)

* TENSION YOU COULD CUT WITH THE DULLEST KNIFE

* You were the first to say sorry and admit that what you said was wrong

* It took him a while to forgive you, but in the end he did.

* Once he forgave you, he apologized right after.

* You both forgave each other and gave each other the longest and forgiving hug.

* “I couldn’t sleep with out you and I am sorry.”

* “I am so sorry, please don’t believe any hurtful thing I said….”

* You ended up moving back with him.

* “I swear to god i thought I lost you forever.”

* Tons and tons of hugs and kisses and cuddles.

* A week later he was still feeling super guilty and upset with himself but you reassured him that it was all ok. He still didn’t believe it so you fixed him tea and cuddle up with him under one of his favorite blankets.

* Both promised that if there are any fights in the future that you both will talk through it like civilized human beings and try to see each other perspective/understanding.

* “i love you so much, Andrew…”

* “I love you too, darling.”

Notes: hope you enjoyed!!! Request are always open and appreciated! Also I had no idea what song would match so y’all got Unknown/ Nth.

(“Does it always rain in Wicklow?” Fanfic dropping soon!)

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 2/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

(Alter)Keith indicates that it’s Alter!Keith pretending to be Keith.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Some dialogue’s taken directly from the English version of Keith's route.

(He's impressive in so many ways��)

Alter!Keith: Thought you were gonna cry a bit, but you’re pretty tough even with that cute face. Or are you used to this in the future?

Emma: From what I know, things aren’t as bad as they are now. It’s most likely because Prince Keith keeps things in check.

Alter!Keith: That so? Makes sense…Then it’s worth gutting them.

He snickered and looked over his documents again.

(Be careful with “that”)

The documents from Liam had information on nobles who had committed crimes that couldn’t be ignored.

And so I went from estate to estate with Prince Keith as his aide.

You could say the purpose was to do some clean up.

~~ Flashback ~~

(Alter)Keith:  Even cities far from the capital are under watch. Continue foolishly raising taxes and we’ll know. It’s alright though, I won’t be asking for an immediate confession. After tomorrow, you won’t be a lord, so we have plenty of time.

--

(Alter)Keith: You joined a group of thieves to deal in illegal trading. Good thing you were too optimistic to be careful. Is that an excuse I hear? Let’s go, there’s a carriage waiting. You don’t live here anymore.

--

(Alter)Keith: It’s not fake at all. This is real evidence given to me by the administrator you hired. You should be thankful that they gave you a chance to make up for your crimes. But will this pointless struggle continue?

~~ End flashback ~~

(Even though he was pretending to be nice Prince Keith, his smile instilled fear)

(Those cold golden eyes that could stop the heart and merciless cornering)

(And speaking of mercy, he didn’t take any lives)

I shivered at the memory. Those nobles must have been traumatized.

~~ Flashback to his route ~~

 Liam: Although his methods are barbaric, it is thanks to him that our nation’s defenses are stronger, and the nobles who hurt the common people are less in number. Although naturally, there is a subset of nobles who despise him because of that. Prince Keith has achieved a great many things. But most of those were achieved by that piece of crap.

~~ End flashback ~~

A conversation from before I came to Jade crossed my mind.

(Sure, the way he’s cornering the nobles will make them hostile, but it eases the common people’s suffering)

(He’s doing this “on behalf of” and “for” the nice Prince Keith…)

(Prince Keith’s annoyed by the cruel words said, but he’s not upset by them)

(It’s like he’s used to it)

(...I can’t ignore it)

The nobles naturally didn’t admit to their crimes when they were presented to them.

And because it was Prince Keith they were dealing with, they hurled insults at him, which made me angry.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: Um, can I help you?

I tilted my head in confusion when Prince Keith leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at me.

Alter!Keith: Nothing. Just surprised by how much you like the failure.

(I’m not…though this reminds me of when we first met)

He’d call nice Prince Keith a “failure”, but would smile whenever I said he wasn’t.

(He’s been lying to himself and acting contradictory for so long…)

Alter!Keith: …

(Ah, he’s going over the documents again)

They were different from the ones Liam gave him, and he had been spending most of our time in the carriage looking over them.

(I wonder if the king’s already left official duties to him as his aid by this time)

The sunlight made the dark circles under his eyes peeking out through his bangs more prominent.

(That’s probably not the only cause…)

It was something that had been bothering me since before we left the castle, and I unconsciously opened my mouth.

Emma: Why don’t you rest your eyes for a moment?

Alter!Keith: Sorry I got you worried, but these dark circles are that guy’s fault. “I’m” not tired.

Emma: Nice Prince Keith’s fault…?

(What did he mean?)

Alter!Keith: …That’s what you call him?

Emma: Yes, since you’re both Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Then what about me?

Emma: Wicked Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

Emma: I don’t think I am…?

Alter!Keith: Whatever you say…Hm?

Emma: ?

(Did he see something outside the window…?)

Like Prince Keith, I looked out the window.

At that moment, I felt a peck on the cheek and heard a chuckle.

I looked back and saw Prince Keith smiling wickedly at me.

Alter!Keith: I need to use complex tricks for Emma. Noted.

Emma: …You’re still as wicked as ever.

Alter!Keith: So I’m also wicked Prince Keith too?

He still had that same innocent smile which almost made me forget that I was in the past. 

(Hopefully this was enough to distract from the unpleasantness from the estate…)

Alter!Keith: As an apology for making you pout, I’ll answer any question you have.

Emma: Huh?

Alter!Keith: There’s something you want to ask me.

(...Is he sure?)

I hesitated for a moment and looked into his eyes.

Emma: The dark circles aren’t because you’re busy with official duties, is it?

Alter!Keith: You got it.

Prince Keith sighed and everything was quiet for a moment.

Alter!Keith: …The next time we wake up, which personality will be in front? What if it’s a different personality? He’s been losing sleep worrying over this.

(I thought so…)

I remembered his diaries and the empty shelves.

(Back in this time, Prince Keith was still confused over his abnormality, and was struggling to accept it)

(So maybe those feelings of fear and rejection toward the wicked Prince Keith were strong enough to make him lose sleep)

Alter!Keith: He may be a failure, but he’s stubborn. Even if he can’t do anything, he’ll still desperately try to do something for his country or someone else. …And he gets in my way.

(Now I can understand just how much the wicked Prince Keith cares for the nice Prince Keith)

(...That’s why it’s difficult)

At the same time, it felt irritating.

--

(...I want to cover my ears right now)

[fancifulplaguerat]

I’m so not normal about this

The way that Artemy tries to make Daniil feel better despite not caring solely because Daniil is upset, the “you are also better-crafted than me” like Artemy is telling him not to think of himself as some worthless unloved doll because look at yourself, you’re so much more than that; just that last line the compassion the kindness in it I cannot stand this. I’m not even that into Burakhovsky in canon but this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life (←light hyperbole) 

I’ve gotten too desensitized to the doll ending that I forget what a gut punch it is. That line “Strangely, there is still not a word to be heard from the Powers That Be. Perhaps they became bored of it all... or were called back home for supper” plain devastates me. Just the futility of it all, how pointless all the characters’ suffering was, in particular the healers’. Though I enjoy the theatre-framing in Patho 2, the ‘children’s game’ meta in Patho Classic gets under my skin far more, as there’s some ‘purpose’ in Artemy/Daniil/Clara suffering onstage, playing their roles for an audience. While Patho 2 implies futility with the ‘you aren’t important, you can be recast,’ that idea of ‘you are not important, and everything you did meant nothing’ hits me harder in the game framing because the healers aren’t even worth being replaced. Everything is just some kids’ make-believe that can be tossed aside when they get bored or are called away. 

But I fucking love “The Powers That Be” concept because it’s so perfectly ominous and vague. Could be anything, likely the government, but sike actually it’s two children who orchestrated your entire living nightmare. I love the subtle references to them throughout the game, too, such as a plague victim telling Daniil “I keep hearing children’s voices... the girls are crying, and the boy is laughing... We mustn’t scare them...” or Aspity asking, “Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat... Can you hear the kids running around?” And granted this might not truly be about The Powers That Be, but it certainly feels like it could be. Or the foreshadowing on Day 1 of the Bachelor Route when Daniil asks the kids, “How did it even cross your mind... to play epidemic!” And Clara directly references them when she goes underground with Artemy, warning him to talk as little as possible so “they who are beyond the wall won’t hear you.” 

She elaborates: 

“I can only feel them. They are obscure. They are the ones in charge of everything here. They’re big but narrow-souled, trying to hide their wretchedness from us. It was all their doing. They haven’t revealed themselves yet. [...] Their time hasn't come yet. They are waiting in the wings. They will probably break into the world when it ends. Tomorrow they will show themselves...” 

I highly enjoy Measly and Thrush’s presence being all over the game unbeknownst to the player and characters (excluding Clara). 

And it creates even more futility to me because there’s no catharsis of just anger against some cruel puppet-master, like I can’t be angry with these children who are just playing. Especially how they ask, “Heal the town, please! Just look, it’s so wonderful... It’s alive and it’s our favorite one... We won’t be able to make another one like this. If it can’t be helped, then it will disappear forever. You know how much we love it?” They’re just kids who want you to save something that they love; even if they can be devious they don’t really have malicious intentions. But even their fears about losing their town aren’t real and I’m just going to go outside and start eating handfuls of dirt 

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone (pt 6)

word count: 2k

information: y'all, i am so sorry this took so long, i've been in a slump and clinicals just started so i've also been super busy. but i promise i am going to finish this!

warnings: smut. dirty, filthy, nasty smut. seriously, its like 3 pages of smut with some dialogue, but i won't apologize for it 🙃

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude, @globetrotter28, @tn22220-blog, @fudgethisyo, @geeky-politics-46, @chaengist, @lostgirl219, @amberpanda99, @sharrren, @bookishbabyyyy

Tommy’s POV 

It had been a week. It had been a fucking week since I had last seen Y/N, since I had tasted her lips on her kitchen counter and gathered the strength to pull away. Dealing with business and family had made this week drag on like months, leaving a hole in my chest that grew everyday I wasn’t around her. I had been so close to having her, her body and mind were almost mine, and then I remembered that stupid, pointless meeting in Camden, and I pulled away like an idiot. I was needed at the meeting, but still; I needed her more. 

Everytime that my mind has dared to go back to that night, it always ends the same. Me in a bathroom or closet or any other private place, jerking my cock like a madman. I couldn’t stand it any longer, I needed to have her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see her for a while, and that only made it worse. It only made me treasure the memories more. 

“Thomas,” Polly croaked, I could still see the tear stains on her face from earlier. 

Business had not gone well, ending with Arthur and John being arrested, and Michael getting his ass handed to him in the process. Polly had been crying and screaming the entire time, along with Ada, who is ever the dramatic. Ada has now resumed her vow of silence against me, at least until I get our brothers free, and Polly won’t stop fucking crying, tears coming out between her hands as she covers her face. I understand her upset, I really do, but it isn’t my fault that her son manages to get beat to a pulp everytime we go out, and she knows it. 

“Yes, Pol?” I finally answer, the solemn look not leaving my face. 

“What are you going to do? Ya have to get your brothers, the longer their in there the more pissed they’ll be,” she breathes, “I can take care of Michael, but you’ve got to handle things with the prison.”

Finally recognizing some of the life that comes back to her eyes, I sit for a moment. It’s not a problem to get Arthur and John out, I pull people from the jail all the time. I’m just not sure what to do with them once they’re out. They’ll be angry, looking for revenge, and I’ve got a sweet girl waiting on me that overpowers all thoughts of payback. Everyone will get what's coming for them, we are the Shelbys after all, but I want to come first. Preferably all over Y/N. 

- 

Another week gone by, and still I haven’t gotten to see her. The hole is now a gaping wound, and my cock is sore from how much my hand has been on it. 

I was right, Arthur and John drug me straight back to Camden Town after they got out, and it’s taken all week to stalk and plan out our retribution. We got it, but at what cost? I still haven’t been around to see Y/N. I know she's been at the house, Pol called and told me that she asked her over and watch Finn while she tended to Michael. Hearing that made my heart swell the most it has in a long time, just knowing she cared enough to do something as simple as watch my kid brother. I am so far gone for her, and I don’t even think she realizes that she holds the most powerful man in Birmingham at her fingertips. 

The three of us eventually arrive back to Watery Lane, and I immediately notice that Y/N’s umbrella is propped by the door. The adrenaline begins to rush through my veins, waking up all of the feelings that I just got to lie down this past week. All that lust and longing comes flooding back into me, all from an umbrella by the door. I enter the house first, and hear the sounds of laughter coming from the seating room. I peek around the door frame to see Finn and Y/N, locked in some sword battle, using sticks as their weapons. They slash at each other, Y/N obviously holding back given that she has almost two feet in height on the kid, but still it’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. 

I, Tommy Shelby, just found something adorable. Something is truly wrong with me. 

I ultimately decide not to disturb them and continue walking to my room. It’s only when I get to my room however, that I notice the tent that has formed in my pants. Fuck, I can’t even see her without getting aroused. I hear John and Arthur speaking to them downstairs, and figure that they’ll keep them busy long enough for me to handle my issue. I carefully shut my door, and lie down on my bed. Loosening my pants, I free my cock from its confines. The skin is red from straining against my clothes, but it only adds to the tenderness as I stroke myself. I imagine it being her hands, dragging up and down my length, toying with the sensitive head. I run my thumb over it, letting the pain from being so hard morph into the pleasure I’m imagining in my head. I picture her mouth, those soft, pink lips wrapping around me, licking and kissing all over my skin until she finally makes her way down. She’d start slow, testing the waters to see how she could handle me, until finally sinking all the way down, my cock touching the back of her throat. The same throat that makes all those mouthy remarks, and keeps all those secrets of what she wishes I’d do to her. I even go so far as to imagine her own fantasies, picturing her getting off to the thought of my hands on her, just like I’m doing now. The soft moans that would spill out of her mouth, falling hard in the silence of her apartment. The way her fingers dive and retreat in and out of that pussy; I know it’s tight, it has to be. That leads me to my next train of thought. The warm center between her legs, that would be dripping in arousal by the time I got around to it. She’d be so wet that it would go down her thighs, it’d be enough for me to drink. I let out a small moan, the feeling of my hand and the delusions in my head becoming too powerful. I can almost feel the softness of her lower lips, as they part to let me in. The filthy sounds she would make as I drove into her, first from on top of her, then once she got adjusted to my size, the way I would take her from the back. 

The motion of my hand stops as soon as I hear a glass shatter, and I peel open my closed eyes to find Y/N, standing at my door, face flush, with a shattered glass and pool of water around her feet. Her eyes do not meet mine, and I realize that they’re dialed in on my cock, with my hand still wrapped around it. 

“Tommy, I-I am so sorry, I had no idea-” 

I don’t let her finish before I’m on my feet. I step over the glass, scooping her up in my arms before placing her inside my room so that she doesn’t step on the glass. I close the door behind her, somewhat aware that my hard on is still out on full display. 

“How long have you been watching me, bad girl?” I say, bringing the same hand that was on my cock seconds ago up to her cheek. Her skin feels better than mine ever could. 

“Not long, I swear it Tommy,” she rasps, trying to keep her eyes on my face. 

“Did you hear me moan? That was for you, Love. You were what I was imaging,” I breathe, tipping my head towards hers. 

“No-”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” 

“Yes, I heard you Tommy. It was a beautiful sound.” She finally admits, leaning into my touch and resting her forehead against mine. 

I smile at her, and go back to sit on my bed. When she doesn’t follow, I make the decision then and there. She can watch. 

I begin stroking my cock again, this time keeping my eyes on her. I can see that she’s a little confused, but more aroused than anything. I spot that blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck, and onto her chest. I can see how heavily she’s breathing, her eyes darting between my face and my hand. I let out another moan as I see her hand go up to her breast, palming herself through the fabric of her shirt. She’s as needy as I am, she just won’t admit it. 

I keep my pace, speeding up my hand to keep time with her breathing. The rise and fall of her breast picks up enough that I can feel my end coming near. She’s still watching, waiting to see me finish. I’ve never had an audience before, but I like that she’s the one seeing me. I give my length one last pull, and cum erupts, landing all over my stomach. I keep my hand moving until the last drop comes out, dribbling down my thumb. 

“Come here, Y/N.” I say, motioning her with my finger. 

She approaches me, staring at the mess I’ve made at myself, all at the sight of her. 

“Yes, Tommy?” She questions, that sweet voice dripping in feigned innocence. 

“Open your mouth.” I demand. 

She does as she is told, and I stick my thumb into her waiting mouth. 

“Clean it.” I poke her tongue with my digit, and she closes her mouth around it. 

She swirls her tongue around my thumb, lightly sucking at the calloused skin of my hand. She is very thorough, but if she doesn’t stop, I’m going to take her right here, with every member of my family in this house. She pulls away, letting my thumb go from her mouth with a pop. I move to sit up, heading to the bathroom to clean myself off. Before I have the chance to reach my feet, she pushes me back down, her hand gripping my shoulders. 

“What are ya doing, Love?” 

“I’m cleaning you up, Thomas.” Fuck, even just my name coming from her mouth is almost enough to have me hard again. 

She straddles my knees, bracing her hands on either side of my hips. I just allow her, wanting whatever physical contact she’ll give to me. She lowers her head, bringing it to the bottom of my stomach. She darts her tongue out, licking up the cum that pooled at my waistline. She swallows it, and I am in awe as I watch her. She traces the erratic trail up my body, her mouth leaving warmth in its wake. My skin flushes at her touch, and I jump when she lands her mouth on the ticklish part of my side, where the liquid has started to drip down. She lets out a small laugh and keeps going. Finally, when she has licked every last bit of evidence from my torso, she moves up, the crotch of her pants sitting right on top of my once again hard cock. I don’t move, in fear of not being able to stop, but she leans down, and whispers in my ear. 

“You taste delicious, Tommy.” She darts her tongue out again, letting the warm thing touch my ear before she nips at it with her teeth. 

I go to grab her hips, having had enough of her teasing, but she jumps off of me, landing her feet on the floor. 

“I think I heard Finn calling for me,” She says, turning towards the door where the broken glass still lies. 

She steps to the mess of glass and water and looks down. 

“It’s a shame about your water, Love, I’m sure you’re parched.” She smirks, stepping over the shards and sending me a wink before she closes the door. 

[blacksorrow-untiltheend]

hi guys I’m in a horrible bad mood and I cried for four hours with Tsukasa plush over a fanfic

And then I looked at him and thought “he’s the only one who can comfort me”

And then I got an idea! So here’s a small little thing I wrote:3

Polyshow thingy thing (also me projecting on tsukasa hi guys) (Tsukasa angst and also comfort)

And there he sat, a boy with blonde, strawberry hair. With tears flowing down, in a corner behind the dear place of happiness. Phoenix wonderland, the wonder stage, these places should make him happy. And they do. They do, they really do. So why, why was the star, Tenma Tsukasa, crying like a child? And even worse, crying when he was supposed to be practicing. Tenma Tsukasa, the world future star, born to make people smile, to shine so bright. He wasn’t doing any of that. All he could think was, ‘ stop crying, stop crying, stop crying, you have work to do, get up and practice, and stop crying. ‘ yet, he couldn’t. No matter how hard, he’d continue, and continue, and continue.“ Tsukasa-kun? “ He heard, with a male peaking behind the curtain. His purple haired director. Tsukasa attempted to get himself to stand up, but he couldn’t. There was nothing, nothing he could do. It was the end of the star, Tenma Tsukasa.

“…eh? Tsukasa-kun?! Are you okay?” Rui asked, with such worry that Tsukasa had never heard before. He didn’t give an answer. “..Emu-kun, Nene-chan, come here. It’s important.” Tsukasa hears Rui say, and he panics. No, he doesn’t want this! He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. His eyes meet Rui’s, and he silently pleads. But it’s too late. Emu and Nene walk backstage, and Rui goes after them. Tsukasa wasn’t very hidden, so the two girls spotted him almost immediately. This was horrible. His troupe, his best friends, and his partners, saw him crying like a child that didn’t want to go home. Humiliating. He looks at them, pupils dilated. his cheeks were stained with tears, and he watched the three as the stared at him. Rui stood straight up, looking in slight shock. Nene was neutral, but worried. And Emu.. Emu had the most unfamiliar expression of all. She wasn’t smiling at all. Instead, she ran over to Tsukasa, looking as if she was going to cry. She hastily sat down on the floor and jumped into hugging Tsukasa. Tsukasa was shocked, his dilated pupils darting from her to the other two. He felt as if he would start crying again, and he did just that. Rui and Nene approached slower, both sharing a silent conversation. They had dealt with this more often with each other. Rui and Nene knelt next to the boy. Rui put his hand on the blonde hair of his boyfriend, stroking his hair and putting their foreheads together. He let out a few “shhs” while Nene patted his back.

A few minutes, and his sobbing faltered. He looked at the three, whom were backing away and sitting on the floor next to him. Rui was the first to speak. “Tsukasa-kun, mind telling us what happened?” he asked, his hand on the blonde’s shoulder. Tsukasa sniffled a little, and took a breath. “…today hasn’t been a good day.” Is all he said. “How so?” Rui asked another question. He looked at Rui, who nodded, and then the other two. The other two nodded, Nene smiled calmly yet slightly upset at him, while Emu had a solemn, sad smile on her face. “It started with my parents. They had gotten mad at Saki, since she had accidentally dropped a plate.. dad was yelling at her, and I saw her crying on the couch. Mum hadn’t done anything, but she hadn’t interfered either, and that’s when I did. It was back and fourth arguing between me and my dad, but it ended when he said I was useless, that I’d never get anywhere in life.. and it hurt, more than it should’ve. Saki and I left really quickly.” He spoke. Rui, Nene, and Emu all had shocked expressions. “What else is there, Tsukasa-kun?” Rui questioned, doubting that was the only reason. Tsukasa sighed and continued.

“It’s pointless. Got a low grade on my test, a few classmates made fun of me for it. That’s it.” The three looked as if they either wanted to hurt someone or that they were shocked at everything. Rui tightened the grip on Tsukasa’s shoulder. “Tsukasa-kun. If you’re ever going through anything, tell us. Stop keeping things from us.” Rui spoke, with Nene and Emu nodding in agreement. “It’s going to be okay, Tsukasa.” Nene spoke, patting his back. Emu hugged Tsukasa once more. “Tsukasa-kun! We care about you a lot, so please talk to us!” Emu said in a pleading tone. Tsukasa nodded. “..okay. I’m sorry, everyone. My crying just served as a burden to you all. “No!” The three said in union. “You can cry if you want, Tsukasa. Sometimes, you just need to. It’s healthy.” Nene said, and for a second Tsukasa didn’t recognize her. He nodded, and smiled back, with cheeks stained with tear drops. He stood up, and took a breath. “Alright. I feel better. Thank you, everyone. I love you guys.” Tsukasa smiled a toothy grin. Rui chuckled, Emu giggled, and Nene smiled. “We love you too!” They said in union, once more. He kind of felt like this was planned.. “Now! We have a show to practice!” Tsukasa said, pointing his finger at the curtain. The three nodded, and the four walk to the curtain, at a sort of peace.

OK HI. This is quite a long post but if you read I love you with my heart <3

This was mostly to make me feel better, so it’s not good at all. I’m sorry that ran a little long..

If you’re ever upset, remember that there are people who love you. You are loved, by me, by your friends, by your family.

Have a good day/evening/night, my stars that shine so brightly in the sky.

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 13: Spring Breaks Loose, The Time Is Near

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Arthur Morgan Has Tuberculosis, Angst With A Happy Ending, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author's Note: i’ll i’m gonna say is don’t kill me just wait until the story is done. Chapter content warning: Disease (you know which one. Also let’s pretend it’s not incredibly contagious), death

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash@julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraphph @crypticlxrsh@lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo @tinaaaa5747 Chapter List

“A-Arthur?” You managed to choke out.

He wasn’t sobbing, not like you were, but a few tears had escaped his eyes and trailed down his bearded cheeks. “Sorry, it’s just…” he trailed off, carding his fingers through your hair, making you relax the tiniest amount. 

You didn’t let him brush your concerns off, and you forced your crying to cease, which took a substantial amount of willpower, and was made easier by your concern. “It’s just…?”

He sighed, before placing the lightest kiss on your forehead. You could feel his lips move as he spoke. “It just pains me to see ya like this, darlin’.”

You pulled your head back slightly, not expecting that as an answer. Even through tear-filled eyes, you could see that he wasn’t being entirely truthful with you, his eyes turned away from you. He wasn’t lying about being upset at your distress, but there was something else to it as well. “It’s just that?”

“Yes,” he answered too soon. Worry gnawed at you, but you let the matter drop for now. You were too mentally exhausted to press further, so you let his lie satisfy your question. For now. 

Humming noncommittally, you let your head fall back against his, foreheads resting against each other. Your body still shook, your mind still overflowing with information, but oddly enough you could feel the cold weight of acceptance begin to form as well. What your brother had claimed was the truth; it would be pointless to try and claim otherwise. 

But you knew it would take time for you to fully come to terms with what he had done. And maybe you never would, but you’d learn to live with it, just like you had come to live with the cards you’d been dealt two years ago. You’d be lying, though, if you said you weren’t tired of your life being out of your control. Never again, you vowed to yourself.

You must’ve looked like you were deep in your thoughts, and so Arthur gently called your name, bringing you back to reality. “What happened, darlin’? If ya wanna talk ‘bout it,’ he added quickly.

“He… Well… I…” You tried and failed multiple times to recount the day's events, yet every time you trailed off, unable to create a clear story with the sheer amount of things that had transpired. 

“Start from the beginning,” Arthur instructed. “What happened in the morning?”

Now given a task to focus on, you took a deep breath, your thoughts now becoming understandable. “My mother and sister, Maggie, visited today.” God, was that only this morning? 

“They did? Well, that’s good…” he trailed off, uncertain.

“It was great. They came in for a few moments, much to the surprise of… of Hans,” you tried to not think about the fact that his body was lying right below you. “He seemed nervous, but I guess now he was worried they were gonna tell me somethin’.”

“Did they?”

You shook your head. “They were as much in the dark about this as I was. In fact, they were under the belief that I ran away willingly, that I was in love with Hans.” You recall the fact that Maggie had found a note saying you’d run away. “Joseph planted a fake note explaining everything, and I guess my father just kept his mouth shut about the whole ordeal, never told them the truth.”

Although it hurt less than it did with your brother, you still felt a sting of betrayal when you thought of your father. His silence was compliance; if he’d spoken up, would all of this have happened? Or would the rest of your family have disowned you for being with Hans’ child out of wedlock? Would they have been supportive? Would they have come to see you, and then see that it was all a lie? What would’ve happened then?

So many what-ifs bounced around your head that you forgot to continue your story, until you heard Arthur clear his throat, albeit a bit too loudly. It made you jump, and he apologized under his breath. “What next?” His voice was hoarse. 

“Well, we ended up headin’ to Saint Denis, a day trip with just the three of us.” Joseph must’ve gotten here during that time. “Did you know Angelo Bronte is dead?”

His silence spoke volumes, and in the back of your mind, you knew he had something to do with it. You didn’t care; Bronte was a snake who needed to be put down long ago. “We… we ended up passin’ your wanted posters. You’ve got quite the bounty on you, did you know?” He let out a small chuckle. “I told them ‘bout you,” you whispered, feeling like you were confessing something.

You felt him tense the tiniest amount. “Yeah? I’m sure I made quite the impression.”

“Sayin’ that she told me to run away with you, you didn’t strike as bad of an impression as you believe.”

Arthur sucked in a breath, making him cough lightly. “She said what?” You couldn’t tell if he was revolted by the idea, or just surprised. 

“She was in the house for maybe three minutes, but she saw how miserable I was with Hans. Then she saw how I looked at your poster,” your cheeks burned slightly, “and she got me to confess how I felt. She made me promise to get away from Hans, whether it be with divorce or running away.” You took a deep breath. “And I promised her. Once you came back, I was gonna do it. I was gonna take my life back.”

Arthur was quiet for an extended amount of time, and during that, you felt one of his hands cup the side of your face. “It’s like she read my mind,” he muttered, and you blinked at him, confused. “Do you remember, back at Bronte’s party, I was ‘bout to say somethin’ to ya before the fireworks went off?”

It took a few seconds of combing through your memories, but eventually, the scene replayed in your mind. “I do. I also remember you refused to repeat what you were tryin’ to say.”

“I lost my nerve, darlin’,” he sighed, thumb idly rubbing your cheek.

“So try it again,” you whispered, covering the hand on your cheek with your own. “What were you gonna say?” You were certain you knew what he was about to say; you just wanted to hear it from him. 

“For a moment, I believed Dutch. I believed him when he said that the bank robbery would be the last score we’d need to get the law off our back. We’d get enough money to start anew, where I wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout providin’ for the gang any longer. ‘Cause of that, I let myself dream, fantasize a new life. A life with you.”

“Arthur-”

“I was gonna ask you to run away with me,” he whispered. “And once I got my share from the robbery, we’d go. Vanish. Start a new life, somewhere, anywhere. I didn’t care where, as long as it was with you.”

“You… you’d leave the gang for me?”

“I’d do anythin’ to be with ya.” He said it so simply, honestly. 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t find the words to. Instead, you crashed your lips against his, catching him completely off guard. It was like everything slid into place, two puzzle pieces joining together, when you kissed him, your fingers entangling themselves in his hair. Your damp cheeks continued to be wettened by more tears. 

It wasn’t any secret that you were in love with Arthur Morgan. Far from it. You both knew it, having told him yourself. Yet even now, it continued to overwhelm you, even stronger than before, until you felt like you were drowning in it. But you realized you didn’t want to be saved. You wanted to sink deeper, to let the waves close in over your head, to trap you for eternity. You wanted all the air to leave your lungs and to be filled with him, until all you could feel, think, know was him.

Climbing into his lap, you didn’t even remember that your lower body was covered in mud and remnants from the forest, and neither did he. He eagerly reciprocated, a hand pulling you snugly against his waist once you were sitting. Desperation laced his movements, missing you just as deeply as you had missed him.

A hand still gripped the side of your face, and you felt it move into your hairline, making you shiver. He continued back, combing through your tangled hair until he reached the back of your head. When his fingers brushed there, though, you gasped, but because of pain.

He retraced his hand immediately, his brow furrowing as he looked at his fingers. “Are you-”

“They hit me in the back of the head,” you explained. “One of ‘em did it when I walked into the bedroom. But it’s fine.” You tried to reconnect your lips, needing to feel him again, but he turned his head away. 

“You’re still bleedin’.” He turned his fingers to you, and you saw that they were indeed covered in blood. Your blood. “Turn around.”

The tiniest bit disappointed, you complied, turning until your back was to him. You felt his fingers lightly move your hair until he found the source of the bleeding, a curse leaving his lips when he did. “Let’s get this taken care of, darlin’.”

“But-”

“Please.”

You sighed but found yourself unable to oppose his request any longer. He was already on his feet, and you felt him help you up as your legs were still unsteady. Your feet, now covered in dry and flaking mud, clumsily made their way to the stairs, stopping when Arthur placed a hand on your shoulder. You let out a startled noise when he picked you up again, bringing you upstairs quicker than you would’ve by yourself. 

He didn’t set you down until you were in the bathroom, placing you on the tub’s edge. He adjusted your body so that your back was to him again, and you heard him as he began to rustle through some of the cabinets.

“Bandages and gauze are by the sink.” 

Arthur murmured out a thanks, a small victorious noise leaving him when he found them. You heard the sound of running water, most likely filling a small bowl with water, as you heard his moke some more noise as he grabbed a few other things. He was back by your side in seconds, parting your hair like he had done downstairs. You winced when you felt a damp cloth press against the injury, cleaning it. With every noise of pain you made, Arthur was apologizing, and you shook your head each time, being mindful of what he was doing. 

Eventually, you heard the sound of splashing water as Arthur dropped the now-red cloth into the water, reaching for the bandages now. A piece of gauze was placed on the wound, Arthur then instructed you to hold it as he wrapped a bandage around your head, securing it. It went across your forehead, wrapped around twice to be extra tight, and he tied it in the back.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror when you turned around, before Arthur stepped in front of you, blocking your sight. “I look ridiculous,” you scoffed, ignoring the cuts and marks that you’d seen on your face. 

“Rather be ridiculous than bleedin’ out,” he countered, dumping the bowl and refilling it, grabbing a fresh cloth as well. Wordlessly, you watched as he dropped to his knees in front of you, setting the bowl on the tub edge beside you. Rough fingers grabbed your chin, but they were tender as they tilted your head the tiniest amount down. He continued to hold your chin, keeping your head still as he began to wipe at your face, cleaning away the dried blood and dirt. 

His movements were slow, methodical even, and his eyes roamed over your face. He was soaking in every detail, every line and crease and mark, like he was trying to commit them all to memory. Like he couldn’t believe you were sitting there in front of him. 

Like it was the last time he’d ever have the chance to look at you.

You were studying him yourself, taking in every change. His skin was tanner, which you’d already noticed, his cheeks and nose burned pink. But you’d also seen how tired he looked, and now up this close, it was increasingly apparent. 

His eyes were bloodshot, from what you weren’t quite sure. You knew that sunburn could do that to your eyes, but you knew that wasn’t the cause of it. Glancing into his eyes, it even seemed like the vibrant blue hue of them had seemed to dim. Additionally, deep purple circles lined his eyes, like he hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep in weeks. He probably hadn’t, you realized.

“What happened to you, Arthur?” You found yourself asking before you could stop yourself.

“Didn’t think I looked that bad,” he joked, never ceasing with the self-deprecation. “But the last few weeks have been intense, to say the least.” He had moved down to your neck, continuing to clean your body.

You nodded. “I… I heard about Hosea and Lenny. And John gettin’ arrested. I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

You could tell that he was trying to not show how hurt he was by the loss of those two men. One of whom you wouldn’t even qualify as grown. “We managed to get John back a few days ago. Marched right up to the penitentiary gates and demanded his return.”

That statement made you pause. “I’m sorry, you asked them to return him to you. And they complied?”

“It took some mild… persuasion,” he chuckled dryly, now focusing on cleaning your hands. “But essentially, yes.”

“Sisika, right?” He hummed a confirmation, wiping in between the space between your fingers, getting rid of the dried blood there. “How are you not in chains right now? Or dead?”

“I was the better shot.” He meant it as a joke, but there was a cold truth to it. The only reason he was still alive was that he was “a better shot”. But what happened when he found his match? What then?

You didn’t let yourself think too deeply. “You said that was a few days ago, right? Where were you before?” The question wasn’t accusatory; merely curious. And concerned. 

He paused, glancing up at you. “I would’ve come and seen ya sooner, but I-”

“Arthur, it’s okay,” you cut him off. “You came back, right?” He nodded, an inkling of guilt still in his eyes. “Then that’s all that matters.”

He sighed, obviously disagreeing with you, but no longer pressing the matter. “You ever heard of an island called Guarma?”

You shook your head. “Can’t say I have…” You didn’t like what he was implying. 

“Me neither. Not until a few weeks ago. After everything’ went to shit at the bank, we bunkered down in a buildin’ in Saint Denis, waitin’ out the law. When night came, we snuck onto a boat, all of us ‘cept Charles. He created a distraction for us. We had no idea where it was goin’, but anywhere was good, as long as it was far away from Saint Denis. Then a storm came through, sinkin’ the ship, and we washed up on the shore of Guarma, right in the middle of a revolution. It’s a tropical island; Dutch said it was somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“That explains the tan, then.”

“Trust me, if I’ve never gotta see sand again, I’d die happy.” A huff of air left you, a poor excuse of a laugh, and he continued with his story. ”We managed to get a ride back and found the rest of the gang. Sadie and Charles took good care of ‘em while we were gone. Pinkertons ended up ambushin’ us, and so we relocated up north, a place called Beaver Hollow.”

You knew that place. You were always told to steer as far as you could from there, the Murfree Brood a group you didn’t want to end up in the hands of. And a perfect place to evade the law. “That ain’t too far from where I grew up. Nasty place.”

Cold water splashed against your legs, making you jump. “Some of the things I saw there… nasty is one thing to call it.”

“And the gang is there now?”

“What’s left of us,” he muttered, wiping the mud from your lower body.

“Did… did someone else die?”

He shook his head. “A few of ‘em have left. Can’t say I blame ‘em. Things… things ain’t lookin’ good for us. Dutch’s hell-bent on revenge, and Micah is just feedin’ the flames. There’s a rift growing; one side those who still back Dutch, the other those who don’t.”

“And which side are you on, Arthur?”

He stilled, hands falling into his lap. He didn’t look up, a heavy tension in his shoulders, one that had been present since the moment you’d seen him earlier. Deep breaths moved those tense shoulders, a light cough leaving him as he did. Seconds ticked by as Arthur contemplated your words, and you gave him as much time as he needed. 

When he brought his head back up, it was clear that his mind was conflicted, a soft noise leaving you when you saw the intense furrow of his brow. “I don’t know,” he responded, voice breaking slightly. “I… I don’t know.” He sighed heavily. “But you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that, darlin’. I’ll figure it out.”

“No.”

“No?” 

You shook your head. “I’ll worry, whether you tell me or not. So let me help you.”

“You’ve got some much goin’ on already. Don’t let me pile more on.”

“Let me help you,” you repeated, running a hand through his hair. “What’re you thinkin’? What’s goin’ on in that mind of yours?” Distract me from everything that’s happened tonight.

He didn’t respond for a few seconds. “I’m torn. A part of me sees the man that Dutch is now, ruthless and crazed with revenge. A man I had no small part in creatin’… A part of me wonders; would this have all happened if I’d’ve stood up to Dutch earlier? If I had questioned him, instead of followin’ him blindly?”

“Don’t go thinkin’ about the what-ifs. It doesn’t do you any good; it’s all I’ve been doin’ all night. We can’t change the past, but we sure as hell can decide what the future is gonna look like. That is in your own hands. That being said, I know I don’t know Dutch, or the gang for that matter. But I don’t think there was anythin’ you could’ve done to change his fate.”

He didn’t say, but you could tell he agreed with you, at least subconsciously. “Yet even now, I see him, everythin’ he told us not to be… and I still find myself wantin’ to follow him, to obey him. I can’t turn my back on him now, not at the end.”

“You feel like you owe him, don’t you?”

“He saved my life, darlin’. Took me off the street when I was a kid, gave me food, shelter, a place to call home. He taught me to read, write, to shoot, everythin’. I owe everythin’ to him. And how do I repay him? By abandonin’ him when he needs me most?”

“And has he shown you that same respect? Far as I can tell, you’ve done as much for him as he has for you, if not more. You’ve been loyal to him this entire time, have you not? You’ve been by his side through the good and the bad, following his orders even if you maybe felt differently. He saved your life, yes, but that was years ago. What has he done now that has earned him that loyalty?”

You took a breath. “I ain’t askin’ you to make a decision now. And any decision you do make, you’ll have to make it yourself.” No matter how much I want to make it for you. “This is your life. Not mine. Not Dutch’s. Not the gangs. Yours. So when you make your decision, choose the one you think will benefit that the most. Not what you think Dutch wants you to do. Not what you think I want you to do. Choose for yourself.”

Arthur remained silent, and deep down you could see that there was one other issue bothering him. Something even more significant than his fate with the gang, but what it was you had no idea. On now clean feet, you stood slowly, pulling Arthur up with you. Wrapping your arms around him, you rested your head on his chest, tilting your head back so you could continue to look at him. Oh, how you had missed him.

“Let’s get you outta those clothes…” he murmured after passing over a splotch of mud on your dress as he dragged his hands up your body. 

Leading you to your bedroom, you saw that the things that had been dropped from your arms were on the bed. For a moment, you’d chose to not remember the events that had transpired earlier, but seeing those items forced them to the front of your mind. Your breath caught, and the hand holding Arthur’s tightened, making him slow down. “You alright, darlin’?”

“Sorry, I just forgot…”

He caught your meaning, thumb running over your hand soothingly, and you let him lead you in. There, he turned you until your back was once again to him, but instead of immediately moving to get your clothing off, you felt his hands wrapped around your front. He tugged you to his chest, a content sigh leaving him at the contact, his head ducking down to lay on your shoulder. 

Arthur held you for some time, reacquainting himself with how you felt in his arms. No words were exchanged; his actions said plenty. Occasionally, you’d feel his head turn and press a kiss to your neck, his stubble tickling you lightly. His hands roamed up and down your torso, never demanding, just feeling. 

All of these worked to distract your mind, even eliciting a small laugh from you when his lips brushed your neck. For a moment, nothing existed outside of this room. No family matters, no gang issues, nothing; it was just you and Arthur.

Finally, you felt him begin to tug off your dress, working through the various ribbons and latches in the back. It hit the floor with an audible noise, mud and water having made it heavier. He spun you around, eyes trailing over your newly exposed figure, the tiniest amount of lust flaring in his eyes. But he didn’t let himself touch, merely clearing his throat and stepping back to the closet. 

You nearly followed him, craving to feel his hands on your body again, but you refrained. You remembered you didn’t have nearly as much time alone as you’d like, needing to get to your house with Sadie. With his warm body no longer pressed against yours, you were shivering, your hands rubbing at your exposed arms. Goosebumps covered your body, and you heard the sound of rustling and light coughing as Arthur searched for something for you to wear. 

As you waited, you couldn’t help but think about Arthur’s words, more specifically what he confessed to you downstairs. Never did you think that he’d leave the Van Der Linde gang, let alone for you. You hoped, of course, but you never expected your far-fetched fantasies to be so close to reality.

But now there was a seed of hope that he’d planted inside of you. Hope for a future far away from the control of others. For a future that you would get to choose. 

A future with Arthur. 

The mere idea of that future made you giddy, and despite yourself, you found a smile growing. It was small yet powerful, just like the hope you felt. 

Arthur stepped back into the room, in his arms the blue dress you wore when you met Arthur properly in Rhodes. Despite his tiredness, he had a playful glint in his eyes, clearly remembering the dress as well. You only connected now, though, that it was the same color as the shirt he had worn when he had broken in. It seemed your subconscious had latched on to him quicker than you’d known. 

It made your smile grow wider, and he shot you a curious glance as he began to help you into the garment. “What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” He teased.

“Just thinkin’. About you,” you added.

He chuckled quietly. “All good things, I hope.”

“Only the best.” 

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips, and you felt him zip up your dress.

“Although,” you continued, now feeling a bit nervous. How am I gonna ask him this? “I’ve… I’ve got a question.” You hated how uncertain you sounded. 

“You know you don’t gotta get my permission to ask me anythin’.

“I know, it’s just…” you sighed. “Do you still want… that?”

“That?” 

“What you told me downstairs. About running away with me.” You took a deep breath, scared of what his answer was going to be. “Do you still want that?” As much as I want it?

“More than anything,” he responded quickly, earnestly. Yet he trailed off at the end, an unspoked but, and you felt your stomach drop.

“But you can’t,” you whispered, finishing his sentence for him.

You could feel the guilt radiating from him as he nodded in agreement, his head ducking slightly. “I’ve gotta get ‘em out, darlin’. Tilly, Abigail, Jack, John. All of ‘em. They… they’ve got futures. They can’t stay ‘round anymore.

You hated how selfless he was some days, this day being one of them. “And what about you?” You countered, and his head dipped even lower, practically resting against yours now. “What about your future? Once they’re out, you… you can decide what you wanna do next. You’ll be able to do that. You’re talkin’ like that ain’t gonna be an option.”

You’re not sure what was more alarming: his silence or the tears you felt. Anxiety wormed its way into your mind, and you could feel your heart begin to hammer in your chest, your stomach churning nervously. “Arthur, what’s goin’ on?” You asked hesitantly. 

Silence.

All you could hear was your breathing and your rapid heartbeat. “Arthur?” You tried to sound not panicked, but your voice cracked a bit. “Please, talk to me.”

You’re not sure if you actually wanted him to tell you at this point, but the silence was becoming unbearable. Maybe you were just worrying yourself? Maybe what he was about to say wouldn’t be as bad as you thought?

Arthur raised his head, a shaky hand coming to rest on your cheek. Were his fingers always this cold? You couldn’t remember. “I’m sick.”

You didn’t process the implications of his words. You couldn’t. “W-What do you mean?” You tried to ignore the dread you felt creeping into the back of your mind.

“Darlin’-”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. This wasn’t happening. You refused to believe it was. This was all some cruel joke, right? You’d take that a million times over. “You… you can’t be sick.” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue. God, you should’ve connected the dots earlier. His bloodshot eyes, sickly skin, his immeasurable exhaustion, the coughing. How could you be so oblivious? 

Two hands now held each side of your face, keeping your attention on Arthur. “Please, no.”

“I’m so sorry-

“No!” You tore away from him, staggering back a few steps. Your hands tangled into your hair, pulling and tugging, unsure of how to outlet this growing despair. You paced, tears pouring freely down your cheeks. Words of denial tumbled from your lips, rising in volume. “No, you don’t get to do that!” You weren’t sure if you were talking to Arthur, the universe, or yourself. 

“You…” you gasped for air. You don’t get to come into my life and then leave it. You don’t get to make me fall in love, and then tear it away from me. You don’t get to ruin my life. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream or cry, to lash out, or keep it all contained.“You…” Your anger turned into a simmer when you saw Arthurs standing there, looking as lost as you felt, conflicted on whether to comfort you or let you let it all out. 

Shame snapped you out of your anger, at least temporarily. Here he was, sick, when he needed your comfort, and you were acting like this? His tears earlier in the night made sense now; how long had he been waiting to tell you? Was he ever going to tell you?

Slowly, cautiously, you returned to where you’d been standing moments prior. Sniffing, you could barely see through the tears in your eyes, and it felt like you were forcing your body to comply. You rested your hand above his heart, and beneath his ragged breaths, you could feel his heartbeat, strong as ever. There was no way he could be…

You couldn’t finish the thought. 

Arthur pulled away suddenly, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket before coughing heavily into it. You realized he’d been holding back his previous coughs, this one wracking his whole body, a pained noise leaving him once he was done. You managed to catch a glimpse of the handkerchief before he tucked it into his pocket, but you almost wish you didn’t when you saw the splattering of crimson on the once-white material. 

Oh. 

Oh, God. 

A choked sob left you, the hand on his chest curling into a fist. “We… we can take you to a doctor, a sanitorium, something. Anything. You’ll get better, and-”

“It’s too late for that, it… it’s just a matter of time, now.”

“Says who? You… we can still try!” You tried to argue, tried to fight this whole situation like anything could be changed. Have you already given up? The question danced on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask it, not wanting to know the answer. 

He sighed, a mix of defeat and sympathy, and you hated it. You felt him stroke the side of your face, gently, reverently, but his words were anything but. “Darlin’, I’m dyin’.”

Your body went numb, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over you. The hand on his chest went lax, falling limply to your side. Your ears were ringing so bad that it hurt, and your short and shallow breaths made you dizzy. Again, you felt yourself stumble back, but this time Arthur didn’t let you go far. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He was murmuring something, but you couldn’t hear it. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to sob anymore. Tears just ran in streams down your face, sharp gasps leaving you occasionally, but you lacked the energy to do anything else. It was like all your muscles ceased to work any longer, the numbness of shock rendering them so. 

In your mind, his words just played on repeat, like a broken record. He was dying. He’d be dead. When, you had no idea, but if the state of him currently was anything to go by, then you knew he didn’t have long. 

And just when a future with him had been so obtainable, now that Hans was… out of the picture. Everything you’d imagined, every fantasy came crumbling down around you. Never had you thought about a life without Arthur, but now presented with that idea it was all you could think about. The grief. The dread. The loneliness. 

You were going to be alone again. 

Arthur was going to be dead. 

It would be slow, painful.

He’d be gone so soon.

Your mind flicked back and forth between thoughts like a metronome, yet everything felt quiet. Pressed against his chest, you could feel it move as he talked, lips pressed against the top of your head. When you didn’t respond or acknowledge his words, he tilted your head back, forcing you to look at him. 

You wanted to tear your gaze away, finding it too painful to look at him, yet you kept it on him. The whine in your ears dimmed to a quiet noise, and you were able to start hearing him. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I didn’t wanna tell ya like this.”

“Then when were you goin’ to?” You heard the words leave your mouth, the words slightly slurred. Or were you never gonna tell me, and then leave me to discover that you’d died in a few weeks?

“I don’t know,” he sighed, completely honest. “When I came over today, I was just expectin’ to visit ya and tell ya, not… everythin’ else. Sadie tagged along, ‘cause, well…” he trailed off, unsure of what he was about to say. “She wanted to make sure I made it back alright.”

So it’s that bad. 

You only hummed in response, not knowing what to say. What could you say?

Arthur was also quiet for a few moments. “But I ain’t dead yet,” he muttered. “We’ve still got some time.” His next words were barely audible like he couldn’t even bring himself to say them. “Please don’t go far.”

You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. No matter how much it hurt, you were going to be by his side. You loved him too much. “I won’t leave, Arthur,” you promised, your heart breaking further at the fact that he thought you might. “Is it truly somethin’ you can’t beat?” Are you sure you won’t survive this?

He paused for a second. “I can’t say for certain,” he admitted, “but I don’t want you to get your hopes up, darlin’. It ain’t lookin’ good.”

It took all your might to nod, to bring yourself to process his words. It was futile to try and stop your tears, but you tired anyway. You took a deep breath, focusing on his prior words. You still had some time left. 

All it did was make the ache in your heart worse.

Arthur continued to hold you, a hint of desperation in his grasp, like he was afraid you’d go back on your promise and leave. It was when you secured your arms around him that he finally seemed to believe you, the lightest noise leaving him. Seconds turned into minutes as you held each other, neither knowing what to say. You were grateful for the silence, though, as it didn’t carry information that ruined you. 

Arthur was the first to make a noise, clearing his throat as gently as he could. It still made you jump, and you took a step back, at least as far as you could with his arms still around you. Glancing up at him, his face was red and puffy, like yours, with the remnants of tears still on his face. 

“We should probably leave.” Arthur sounded as eager as you felt. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want to leave. Leaving meant that things would continue to progress, to change. But you nodded anyway, letting him take you by the hand with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You let him lead you out of the room, past Hans’ office, and down the stairs. You let him lead you to the front entrance, and it was when you were putting on your shoes that you saw the upturned rug in the living room, the basement hatch sitting out in the open. A thought flashed in your mind, making you halt. “What about-”

“I’ll make sure someone takes care of it. You don’t gotta be there for that.”

Forcing down guilt, you nodded, and he led you outside. The sight of Bear approaching was a welcome one, and despite everything, you managed a light chuckle. “Hey there, Bear,” you whispered, rubbing his snout when he met you at the bottom of the stairs. “You’ve been takin’ care of Arthur?”

He snorted in response, his head bumping against your hand. “Of course you have. I’ve missed you, buddy.”

Bear was still as Arthur helped you onto his rear, sliding into the saddle after. You didn’t bother to look at the house as you rode away, keeping your head pressed against Arthur’s back, your arms wrapped around his body. You rode away from all you’d known for the last two years; the secret gardens, the stifling room, the secrets and lies and uncertainty.

When you’d looked to the futured, you’d hope to leave this place with a purpose, a certainty in life. And here Arthur was in your arms, just like you wanted, like you imagined. Yet you felt no joy, only a deep sadness that dug into every fiber of your being. The early morning rays warmed your body, but you couldn’t feel it. All you could feel was cold dread.

Was this truly the end?

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 7 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - a fight ensues between you and Spencer in which he says and does some things he doesn’t mean. Once back on the road Spencer finds himself at the receiving end of both your frustration and his hunting knife.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - tears, swearing, threatening Spencer, use of guns, fighting both physical and verbal, accidental stabbings, blood, kinda self surgery.

WC - 5.1k

Chapter 7 - Go to Bed Angry

The saloon doors of the Corner Tavern flew open against their hinges and the cool Illinois night smacked him around the face for the third time that evening. That first slap he didn’t deserve, the second one he probably had done. 

He wasn’t exactly sure what had come over him when he’d let that girl sit in his lap but once she had his animal side had taken over and kissing her had been inevitable. He wished he could say you’d been on his mind when he’d done it, but he hadn’t been thinking of you at all.

He immediately took a right and walked around the side of the building into the alley that ran alongside the bar and low brick wall for which the parking lot sat on the other side. He found you sitting on said brick wall, your feet unable to touch the floor and swung back and forth a little as you hugged your arms tightly around your body. 

The parking lot lighting illuminated your face and the tears that still rolled down your cheeks. He felt bad, of course he did, but he couldn’t help but think you were being a little over dramatic. 

You were friends, right? Just friends. Of course there was an attraction between the two of you but you’d never even so much as kissed so he didn't entirely understand your reaction. But then again, Spencer wasn’t exactly a master of the female psyche. 

You heard him approach and glanced up briefly before looking back at your lap. He started cautiously up the alley toward you. He was smart enough to know he was in for a fight but not smart enough to discern how to extinguish the fire before it got out of hand. 

He slowed as he reached you, hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets and stood in front of you in silence as if trying to find the right words to say. It felt like someone had turned the heat up, the tension reaching fever pitch. He rolled his lip between his teeth before he spoke. 

“I uh…I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but I’m not sure I understand why you’re upset.” He shrugged. 

You looked up at him with a frown, almost unable to believe his ignorance. Typical fucking Spencer. He was amazing at reading human behaviour, unless that was the behaviour of a woman. But you weren’t just going to hand him the answer on a silver platter. 

“Doesn’t matter.” You dropped down from the wall onto your feet, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I’m tired, can we go?” 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“The passive aggressive thing. I know I’ve upset you, clearly. And I’d like to know why.” He stepped in front of you so you couldn’t walk past him. 

“You haven’t upset me.” You shrugged. 

“You’re crying.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Allergies? Hormones?” You tried to shake it off. “I really want to go now.” 

You tried to push past him but Spencer removed his hands from his pockets and caught you by the shoulders, stopping from you passing. 

“Tell me what I’ve done.” He begged you with his eyes. “I would rather you yelled at me than just quietly stew on things the way you’ve been doing the last two days. Let’s just have this out right here and now, Y/N. And then we can move past it and get on with our lives.”

You clenched your jaw, thinking it better to say nothing than get into a pointless fight when the two of you had to spend every waking minute together. But you knew it would all come to ahead eventually, these things always did. The more time you let it bubble under the surface, the less likely you and Spencer would be able to heal from it. Exhaling heavily through your nose and wiping away anymore tears you forced yourself to speak.

“Are you really so ignorant to think that seeing you making out with another woman wouldn’t upset me?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You know these aren’t real wedding rings right?” He shrugged dumbly. 

“Is this all a joke to you?” You scowled. 

“Most definitely not.” 

“I gave up everything for you, Spencer!” You spat. “I thought we were a team. I thought we would be partners in this, but I just feel used, Spencer! This isn’t a dictatorship, it’s supposed to be a democracy.”

Spencer frowned a little, understanding entirely what you were getting at. But he’d never been good at talking about his feelings. If there was ever a time to start it would be now. He should tell you he cared about you as more than a friend, that you meant the whole world to him. He should insist this was a partnership and that he didn’t want you to feel used. He should apologise and tell you he would be better. 

But he did none of that, because Spencer was ultimately a coward when it came to feelings and being vulnerable. He forced a menacing laugh, causing you to cower a little, taking a few steps back from him. He in turn came closer, eyes wild as he looked at you. 

“Oh sweet, sweet Y/N. You and I will never be a team. Did you not stop and think why I bothered to bring you along with me? It wasn’t because I needed your help. Fuck, this would have been so much easier on my own.” He continued stepping closer to you. “You’re my leverage, sweetheart. If I get caught, cops shoot first and think second. But if I have a hostage, the chances of me getting out alive are greatly increased. Especially if I use said hostage as a bargaining chip.” 

Your heart plummeted into your stomach at his words and the evil grin on his face. You’d actually believed for a moment that Spencer had feelings for you, and that was dashed in an instant. 

Spencer hoped and prayed you believed his words because he was sure his voice cracked as he spoke but judging by the look on your face you’d bought it hook, line and sinker. You swallowed thickly, desperate to keep any more tears at bay as you shoved your way past him. 

“I’d rather you killed me now than continue on this fucked up mission.” You growled as you started up the alleyway, no clue of where you were heading.

But you didn’t get far before you heard the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked and you froze in your tracks. 

“That can be arranged.” He snarled as he pointed the barrel at the back of your head. 

You stayed stock still, heart hammering against your chest. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” You croaked.

“Wouldn’t I? I’ve got all I needed out of you. As for a hostage, I’m sure I can find one much less mouthy than you.” He chuckled. 

Slowly you turned around, a look of exhaustion on your face. You’d thrown in the towel. You couldn’t do this anymore. Spencer had broken you. 

“Do your worst.” You shrugged as you stared down the barrel of the Colt. 

Of course Spencer was never going to admit he didn’t plan on killing you so he kept the gun trained on you for a moment or two, more to make you sweat than anything else. When you least expected it, he advanced on you, hand coming out to wrap around your throat and he used it to push you up against the side of the building. You felt him thrust the gun against your stomach, but you didn’t flinch. 

“You don't want me to kiss other women?” He spat, fingers digging into your neck and palm pressing against your windpipe.

“No.” You confessed. 

“Why?” He squeezed harder, making you choke a little. 

“You know why.” You spluttered to catch your breath. 

“Say it. Tell me.” His eyes were black, staring at you manically. 

“No.” You defied him and were met with his hand gripping you tighter. 

“Say it.” He spat between his teeth. 

“No. Kill me if you have to. I don’t care.” More tears started falling from your eyes as he continued applying pressure to your throat. 

For a moment you thought he actually might kill you. And for that moment, you wanted him to. But then suddenly he let you go and you gasped for air as he stepped backwards and stuffed the gun away. 

“Let’s go.” He nodded his head towards the road as he started walking. 

And like the good little sheep you’d become, you followed him, knowing now that even with his hands around your neck, you still adored him. 

***

You both remained silent in the cab back to the Heartland and while you went about your nightly routines and crawled into the shared bed. You could already feel the bruises forming on your neck, you were sure you could still feel his fingers digging into your flesh. 

As you turned onto your side away from Spencer in bed and stared at the wall you wished more than anything you’d said something to Luke earlier in the night. It had been your one chance away from Spencer in which you could have gotten help, turned Spencer in and this could have all been over. 

But you hadn’t. And you were stuck with Spencer yet again. 

You’d need to do damage control at some point, clearly you’d worried Luke. You’d have to try and call him from the disposable cell phone and explain everything was fine, if Spencer ever trusted you to use it. 

What you didn’t know, was after you’d hung up on Luke he had been worried enough to try and call you back on the burner which had been in Spencer’s possession. He didn’t recognise the number and wasn’t stupid enough to answer it. And that could have been the end of it. 

But when you didn’t answer, Luke had text the number. As Spencer had been stepping into the Corner Tavern tonight, no more than two minutes after the mysterious phone call he’d received, a text message had come in. 

📲 Unknown Number: Are you sure everything is alright? You didn’t sound like yourself. I know you’ve got a lot going on with your mom but I’m worried about you, conejito. Please let me know you’re ok. 

Spencer had managed to contain his anger long enough to send a message back, pretending to be you and telling Luke in no uncertain terms to mind his own business and that you didn’t need him worrying about you. 

He was enraged that you called Luke without his knowledge and maybe that it was because of that anger that he’d been so encouraging of Sarah’s attention towards him. Spencer could be incredibly petty when he wanted to be. 

He laid on his back and rolled his head to the side on the pillow, watching you still form as you pretended to sleep. He shouldn’t have said those things, he hadn’t meant them. But it was important to him that he was the one in control here and if he needed to put you in your place from time to time then he would. But maybe he could have done it in a different way. 

He knew how good you were at holding grudges and knew between him kissing that stranger and saying those things to you he would have a long way to go to get back into your good books. But he wasn’t too concerned, he could be pretty charming when the occasion called for it. 

You both lay there for some time stewing on the events of the evening and eventually carrying the anger into your dreams. 

***

Spencer drove with the radio cranked up high and his left arm hanging out of the open driver’s side window. He forced you out of bed early and into the car without so much as letting you jump in the shower. 

Around half way into the six and a half hour drive to his next destination of Derby, Kansas, he stopped for gas and for a late breakfast. He parked the car around the side of the diner-come-gas-station after he’d filled the tank and killed the engine. 

He unbuckled his seatbelt and went to exit the car but noticed you made no attempt to move and simply stared out of the window. He rolled his eyes and let out a breath before he spoke, hopefully helping him not to lose his temper again.

“What are you doing?” It was the first time he’d spoken in hours and his voice was hoarse. 

“Nothing.” You replied without looking at him.

“Yes, I can see that.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I thought we’d get breakfast.” 

“Not hungry.” Once again you didn’t look at him. 

He grinded his teeth together to stop from letting his frustration come pouring out. There was no point in arguing with you about it, if you wanted to starve to spite him then so be it. 

“Fine.” He shook his head, opening the car door. “Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.” 

He grabbed his satchel and got out of the vehicle, stepping onto the dusty earth and slammed the door behind him in a somewhat passive aggressive move. He was on the edge of some small town in Missouri just off the interstate and although the temperature wasn’t particularly high, the humidity made it feel hotter than it was. He almost immediately felt his shirt start to stick to him as he trudged over to the front door of the diner. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and he had to wipe his brow on the back of his hand. 

The little truck stop diner was pretty much the same as most truck stop diners Spencer had frequented along his trip. They always seemed slightly shabby, a little behind the times. The coffee would be bitter and luke-warm at best and the food would be unnecessarily greasy. But he wasn’t exactly flush with options.

He was almost immediately greeted by a brunette with a bright smile that he estimated to be in her late 20s. She wore a blue pinafore which matched the colour of the old booths and the counter at the back. Her skirt was short and her blouse was tight. She wore a name badge pinned to her chest that proclaimed Hi, my name is Flo! 

“Good morning, sir.” She spoke in a chipper and upbeat manner. “Welcome to JoJo’s, dining alone today?” 

“Indeed.” He gave her a half smile and cocked his eyebrow at her, tearing his eyes away from the conveniently placed named tag. Was it deliberate on her part to place it where you had no choice but look at her breasts? Not that Spencer was complaining. 

“Let me show you to a table.” She grinned and motioned for him to follow her which he did. 

Suddenly his hunger for food had gone out the window, replaced by an immediate ravenous for something else entirely.

***

It really wouldn’t have taken a lot for Spencer to have gotten Flo out back and bent over the dumpsters but he decided better of it. It wouldn’t have been as satisfying as he would have liked anyway, and there was another woman he desired so much more. But he was frightfully horny and he only had so much patience to wait for a shot with you, if it didn’t happen soon he may need to find release elsewhere. 

He drank five cups of the terrible coffee as Flo kept passing by his table ensuring his mug was full at all times. He ate an ample amount of bacon, eggs and toast and was sufficiently full by the time he was done. He paid and left a large tip for the flirtatious brunette who slipped him her number on the way out and told him if he ever found himself in Sweet Springs again he should look her up.

He might just do that. 

He stuffed the card in his pants pocket as he strolled back out towards the Nissan at the far side of the lot. As he made his way over to the little blue car it quickly became clear that it was empty and you were nowhere to be seen.  

He’d taken the keys but he hadn’t locked the door. Good job, Reid, he scalded himself. He grinded his teeth furiously as he spun around three hundred and sixty degrees in the dirt and scanned the area. All he saw were cars and a couple of people meandering between their vehicles and the diner. But none of them were you. 

God fucking damnit, Y/N.

This was the last thing he needed. He didn’t have the time or patience to be chasing you around like a lost dog. But he also couldn't let you get away in case you turned him in. 

He sighed deeply. He’d been in the diner no more than forty five minutes. The average running speed for a woman was approximately six miles per hour, however you were particularly fast, so he’d say eight just to hedge his bets. So in forty five minutes you could have, in theory, run up to six miles in any given direction. 

Assuming you hadn’t tried to cross the busy interstate, that left north, east and west as possibilities. North led up into some hills which would have slowed you down, west headed along the roadside in the direction he’d been driving, where you could have tried to hitch hike he supposed. East took him back past the diner and gas station. 

He decided to go for the most likely option and head east. Maybe you’d gone to the gas station in search of a phone, if he was lucky he might be able to catch up with you. The two disposable cell phones were in his satchel which hung over his shoulder, he wouldn’t have been so stupid as to leave them in the car. 

He froze in his tracks suddenly as a thought occurred to him. He could feel the Colt Cobra in his boot where he always kept it but what the fuck had he done with SIG and the hunting knife? He threw open his satchel and rifled inside of but all that was in there was the cell phones, a book, his wallet and the car keys. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Last night before he’d gone on his search for libation, he’d left the SIG Sauer and the knife in the glovebox of the Nissan. Would you have checked the glovebox in hopes he’d left something there you could use to make your getaway? 

He quickly sprinted back over to the little car and threw open the passenger’s door, tossing his satchel on the floor and tugging open the glovebox. It was immediately clear that both the firearm and his hunting blade were gone. 

“Oh goddamnit,” he yelled, slamming the car door shut angrily. “You stupid fucking bitch.” 

He bent down, retrieving the Colt before he took off running again in the direction of the gas station. He hoped to god he didn’t need to get into a gun fight with you on the side of the interstate, but if he had then so be it. 

What a fucking mess you’d gotten them into. 

***

You knew it would only be a matter of time before he found you and it wasn’t exactly as though you’d made an effort to hide from him. He’d made a vital error leaving the gun and knife in the glovebox and for the first time since you’d found him in that alleyway cleaning his car of blood, you may actually have the upper hand. 

With any luck he wouldn’t have realised his oversight which would give you the advantage. You could have called Luke from the pay phone at the gas station but there was no time for that. Spencer would find you before Luke had even left DC. 

You kept yourself hidden from view, tucked away behind the gas station building and honed in on any little sound. This was something you were good at, you were in your element. Watching. Waiting. Biding your time. Chasing fugitives. This was your bread and butter. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there for, gripping the SIG while you waited for his arrival, but eventually you heard the distinctive sound of dirt crunching under foot. And it was getting closer. You pointed the gun in the direction of the sound, the hunting knife tucked away in the back of your jeans. You held your breath and you waited. 

He appeared suddenly around the corner, and you weren’t all that surprised to see the Colt staring back at you. You straightened your back, widened your stance and kept the SIG pointing in his direction. 

“Put the gun down Y/N.” He scoffed as he started towards.

“Don’t take another step.” You spat back. 

“Or what?” He rolled his eyes, continuing to move forward. 

You exhaled and adjusted your aim, lowering it to the floor right in front of Spencer’s feet before you pulled the trigger. The sound of the bullet firing pierced your ears and sent the dirt around Spencer flying into the air. The intention hadn’t been to hurt him, you were simply giving him a warning.

He jumped a little as the bullet hit the ground, obscuring his vision for a moment or two. When the dust cleared he looked at you through the blackest eyes you’d ever seen.

“You fucking bitch.” He growled. “We need to leave now before someone calls the cops to report the gunfire.” 

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You pointed the weapon back towards him as he started walking again. “Stay where you are or next time I will not miss.” 

“Princess, stand down.” He stopped this time, slowly holding his hands up in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Put the gun down and kick it over here.” You commanded him.

“Not gonna happen.” He shook his head. 

He kept one hand in the air in surrender while he tucked the Colt away in the back of pants before returning his now free hand to the air. 

“Can you do the same please, Y/N?”

“No.” You shook your head, still proffering the gun. “I will not let you control me anymore, Spencer. This is over. You’re going to drive away and leave me here. I’m going to call Luke and have him come get me. I won’t tell him how I ended up out here, I won’t turn you in. You can continue on your little mission alone, I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes and started to chuckle, lowering his hands and started towards you again. 

“Sweetheart, that is categorically not gonna happen.” It didn’t matter to him that you were pointing a gun at him, he’d had countless guns pointed at him. “You and I are in this together. You aren’t going anywhere except back in that car with me. Now please stop this little game and let's get out of here before the cops are called.” 

He was getting really close now and your hand started to shake. You wanted to just pull the trigger, shoot him right between the eyes and run like hell. It would have been so easy to end it all right there and then. But you hesitated just long enough for Spencer to rein back the control. 

When he pounced on you, he immediately grabbed your right arm and pushed it upwards so the firearm was now pointing at the sky and not at him. He slammed you against the side of the gas station, causing you to whimper at the impact. He was stronger than you, you hated to admit it but he was. He managed to free the SIG from your hand without any more shots being let off and tossed it behind him into the dirt. You were fighting against him, your left hand beating against his chest but he barely seemed to notice.

He also didn’t notice that your right hand was now tucked behind your back. You created a distraction screeching and fighting him while you freed the hunting knife from its hiding place. With everything going on, he’d forgotten about the knife.

You pulled it loose from where it had been sheathed in the back of your jeans and before you could ascertain exactly what you planned to do with it, you were stabbing it in Spencer’s direction. 

He immediately froze in his movements trying to keep you still against the wall when the tip of the blade penetrated his right side just below his ribs. His eyes widened as he stumbled backwards, betrayal written all over his face.

You held the knife limply in your hand, staring with your mouth agape as the blood seeped through his pale blue button down. Spencer’s hands quickly cupped the wound but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Fuck,” he spat at you. “What the…what the fuck?”

“Oh my gosh.” Your hands started to tremble. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t supposed to…” 

“We need to get the fuck out of here.” He panted slightly, blood coating his hand and he desperately tried to stop the bleeding. “Now!”

You nodded dumbly, but you didn’t move, just continued to stand there, bloody knife hanging limply from your hand.

“For fuck sake Y/N, do something!” He growled. 

“D-do what?” 

“Go and get the goddamn car! The keys are in my satchel, I think I left it on the floor of the passenger's side.” He groaned deeply in pain. “Bring it around to the side of the building and let me in. And then drive like hell before the freaking cops show up, ok?” 

You nodded and forced your feet to move as you tucked the incriminating blade back inside your waistband. You passed Spencer who was doubled over, bleeding through his fingers. 

“And Y/N, I swear to god if you leave me here…” 

Honestly, leaving him here was the last thing on your mind. His blood was on your hands now. The least you owed him was to see this through to the bitter end with him.

***

Spencer laid on the bed with his shirt off and his eyes closed while you sat awkwardly in the chair in the corner of the motel room like a small child on a timeout. 

You’d tried to insist on taking him to the hospital but of course he had been completely against that and just instructed you to keep driving and that he would be fine. He used a spare t-shirt to press against his wound until the two of you were far enough away from Sweet Springs that he thought it safe to stop again. 

He had you pull into a disused truck stop some forty miles down the interstate, by which point he had almost completely bled through the t-shirt. You watched dumbly while he cleaned the wound with a bottle of water and an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit he’d thankfully had the forethought to pack. 

He used all fifteen of the butterfly wound closures to keep the gash together at least until he could find a better solution. He covered the stitches in the largest dressing he could find in the kit and put a clean shirt on before getting you to drive once more. When you made it to the small town of Derby, Kansas, he had you check into the motel while he waited in the car. He waited in the room while he made you go to the local drug store for a suture kit and lidocaine cream.

He wouldn’t let you help him, no matter how much you tried to insist. It was your fault after all, but he adamantly pushed you away. In fact, he’d locked himself in the bathroom with the suture kit and cream while you just sat and waited.

The lidocaine cream was used to numb his skin so he could stitch up his wound but you still heard low rumbles of pain and expletives echoing from the bathroom. You didn’t know how Spencer knew how to stitch up his own wound, probably not something one of his PhDs would have taught him. 

He returned to the room with another large dressing covering his now sutured wound around an hour later and he refused to look at you. He simply flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes while you didn’t dare move out of your chair. 

Not another word was shared between the two of you. Once you realised Spencer had fallen asleep you cautiously crawled into the bed next to him and laid down. Going to bed angry, sleeping on all of this pent up frustration wasn’t healthy. If you never got it all out you would never be able to heal and move on. 

The two of you were stuck together, so you knew you couldn’t continue on like this. But you seemed to both be stuck in this self destructive cycle and you had no idea how to break the pattern. But something had to give, or one or both of you would surely end up dead. 

Feel the heat, tension turned to ninety-nine degrees,

Turn your back and mumble petty things.

Passive-aggressive comments make me crazy,

So crazy.

So don't you walk away from me,

Let's settle this, rather hear you scream.

Than whisper shit, there's no in-between,

'Cause if we sleep in our feelings, we'll never start healing.

Let's not go to bed angry,

Taking back everything I said.

Baby, let's not do this,

Baby, I don't wanna go to bed angry.

Out of sync, awkward silence like we skipped a beat,

Words that burn through the whiskey neat.

Don't tell me that it's fine, that shit drives me crazy,

So crazy.

So don't you walk away from me,

I don't wanna chase you, rather hear you scream.

Than ignore the issue, there's no in-between,

'Cause if we sleep in our feelings, we'll never start healing.

Let's not go to bed angry,

Taking back everything I said.

Baby, let's not do this,

Baby, I don't wanna go to bed angry.

Push and we pull, it's the bad side of good,

Trading blows (Trading blows),

Highs for lows (Highs for lows).

When we hurt just to heal,

Shed a tear just to feel,

So we never have to sleep through the pain.

Let's not go to bed angry,

Taking back everything I said.

Baby, let's not do this,

Baby, I don't wanna go (Don't go),

To bed (To bed),

Angry (Let's not go).

To bed angry (Woah, no).

Taking back (Taking back),

Everything I said.

Baby, let's not do this (Let's not do this),

Baby, I don't wanna go (Don't go),

To bed (To bed),

Angry.

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle

[zebraszegras]

Please... - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is moving from Michigan to New Jersey for hockey and Y/n wants to go with him. Luke doesn’t want her to change her life plans for him, so instead he does this.

Warnings: Angst, yelling, fighting, crying, mention of cheating, use of she/her pronouns, no happy ending. (maybe a part 2)

word count: 836 words

#10 from the angst prompt list

request from @fantillitastic (I hope this is good!)

_______________________________________________

This was not supposed to happen.

Luke had a rough game. He had just lost the frozen four, his last game with the wolverines. He dropped his bag by the door and walked over to the couch, Y/n behind him. None of them said anything for a bit, Y/n going to sit beside him to comfort him. She had changed her life plans to stay with Luke. If she hadn’t, her plane to France would’ve left today. Luke felt too guilty. It was all he could think about for the past few days.

“I know this was a hard game for you, but at least I’ll be able to go with you to New Jersey.” She tried to comfort him, but it was pointless. He knew he had to change her mind.

It had been a week since she had told Luke her plans to move with him to Jersey. He also knew how much she wanted to move to France. Since she was a little girl, she had wanted to move there, to be a fashion designer. Her classes at Michigan being sewing classes and things of the sort. He knew her moving with him to Jersey was going to ruin all her dreams.

He hadn’t said anything, being happy she wanted to go with him and just never having the heart to tell her not too, but with the loss from hours prior, and all his emotions bubbling at the seems, he decided to make her changer her mind about moving with him.

“I think you should rethink moving to Jersey with me.” Silence. He didn’t dare look over at her. He knew if he did he would regret this, but he also knew she would regret moving with him in the future. “You’ve always wanted to go to France. I think you should.” More silence. He finally had the courage to look over at Y/n. her face was blank of any expression. She was staring at the wall in front of them.

She finally spoke after what felt like hours. “Did I do something?” Fuck. He knew he had to think of something and quickly. He couldn’t deal with her upset, especially because of him, but he knew she needed to go to France. “You didn’t do anything Y/n, I promise. I just think you would be so much better off with the life you wanted.”

“You are all I want Luke.” She had tears welling in her eyes at this point. “I mean do you even want me in Jersey? I thought you were happy with me moving with you.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. She had always been an overthinker and the fact he was bringing this up now had her heart racing.

“I cheated on you.” He spoke quicker then his brain could think. He lied of course, he would never even dream of anyone other than y/n. His breath quickened and his hands started to shake. What had he just done.

“You what?” He barely even heard her. She spoke just above a whisper. His heart broke at the sound of betrayal that replaced her usual cheerful and soft voice. “I cheated on you. It was our last away game. This chick came up to me after a game to congratulate me and one thing led to another…” he didn’t understand how he was coming up with this fake story so quickly, but he did.

Y/n had stood up at this point. She looked him in the eyes with tears running down her face. “Please…” She was begging him. Begging for him to say he was joking, begging for him to say maybe it was all a dream, but it wasn’t, or at least she thought it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he could say. He had just single handedly ruined his relationship. The one good thing he had. “I’m sorry? YOU”RE FUCKING SORRY?!” She was yelling at this point. Luke stood up, now seeing the sadness in her eyes replaced by anger. “YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU CHEATED ON ME, AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS SORRY?!” she started hitting him in the chest. He tried to grab her hands but ultimately decided to let her.

And then she started sobbing. Full on screaming and crying. He grabbed her by the arms to stop her from falling to the ground. “I’m sorry Y/n…” he whispered as she cried. “But it’s too late. I did it and I can’t go back and change that.” He then got up and walked towards his room. Y/n stayed on the floor for a while until Luke came back. He had bags and his keys. “I wish you luck Y/n.” and then he left. He left her alone on that floor while she was crying, because he wanted her to be happy with her dreams. She would get over him eventually, and then she could live her life happily like she wanted, even if it wasn’t with him.

______________________________________________________________

First One shot!!! i hope it's good. i know its short but i promise they won't always be this short!!

[101flavoursofweird]

Layton & Aurora

Desmond seeing Aurora as a daughter is a popular concept but Layton seeing Aurora as a niece/daughter— just their relationship in general— is very underrated, especially when they share so much in common…

In the bonus episode ‘Dreams of a Dying Man’, Aurora describes how she awoke not to destruction but to a bright new world filled with happy faces and friendship. The first human face Aurora saw, and the person who caught her when she emerged from the ice, was Layton. (Even if this is just Des’ dream, it’s still true, and maybe Desmond believes Layton could protect Aurora better than himself.) 

Following this, Layton goes to rescue Aurora from Targent’s airship with Luke, but he ends up letting go of Aurora when they escape. (I’m sure that didn’t stir up any bad memories for Layton, haha…)

In Kodh’s Azran dome, Aurora introduces herself before promptly fainting and Layton catches her again. When they emerge from the dome, Layton warns Aurora that her people are gone and the world is not the same as the one she once knew. He says she owes them nothing but asks for her help in solving the puzzle of the Azran. In return, they will try to help her regain her memories, if she wishes. Layton is very open and honest with Aurora; he doesn’t sugar-coat the reality of her situation but he gives her a clear choice in accompanying them. After the way Targent marched Aurora out of the ice cave at gun point, this must feel like a breath of fresh air.

Fast-forward to Chapter 5 now, when Layton and Co make it to the Nest. They complete the Azran key and Aurora remembers everything; the fall of the Azran civilisation, the true nature of their legacy and ‘who she really is’. As upsetting as the moment is for Aurora, I really love the scene when she’s standing at the edge of Obsidian Tower. Fearing for the fate of the world and her human friends, believing that ruin can be averted only if she were gone, Aurora almost throws herself off the edge of the tower— 

But Layton calls out to her, reaches out, reassures her that’s not true. (And the voice acting… The emotion in Christopher Robin Miller’s voice here…) That events beyond their control are already in motion. That the world is in great peril, and her death will not change that. Once again, Layton doesn’t lie to Aurora— the world is in danger, no matter what, and Targent are a force to be reckoned with— but he reassures her that she isn’t some harbinger of disaster, that she still has a place with them, and that they can secure the Azran legacy together.

Of course Layton would be the one to reach out to Aurora. Layton, who lost his birth family to Targent. Layton, whose life was affected so much by the Azran. Layton, who repressed all those traumatic memories for years. Layton, who opposed his biological father (his ‘creator’?) Layton, who lost so many loved ones (his brother, Randall, Claire) and felt he was to blame. Of course Layton would be the one to pull Aurora back from the edge.

Layton is the first one to realise— or at least, voice— the fact that Aurora isn’t human/Azran, but she’s still Aurora in his mind.

After the Azran Legacy has been unleashed, Layton asks Aurora what they should do. Aurora reveals the device that will stop the golems… and decides that she will step into the light beams along with the others. Layton reaches out to Aurora one more time, but she determinedly turns away from him. (Her death won’t be pointless, this time. She wants to help her friends save humanity. Layton can’t stop her anymore that he can stop Luke or Emmy.)

Except… Aurora can’t enter the light beam. She tries to break through but she gets thrown back. Even when he’s burning to death in his own light beam, Layton calls out to Aurora with concern.

Aurora is forced to listen while Layton and the rest of her friends (her family) cry out in pain, until their lifeless bodies fall to the ground. 

Aurora begs the light of the Azran to bring them all back… and informs them that they can have all the power and the knowledge contained within the ruins. Layton declines this gift, believing that humans will one day develop their own technology to rival the Azran and build their own future…

Unfortunately, this means there isn’t a need for the Azarn sanctuary anymore. Or the Azran emissary…

I’m not suggesting that Layton unknowingly brought about Aurora’s death, but wouldn’t Layton believe that? He quietly mumbles “I’m sorry” as Aurora’s body starts to break down and you know he’s going to blame himself again.

Maybe he blames himself so much that he proclaims the robot villagers of St. Mystere must have something not unlike a human heart. Maybe he gets flashbacks when Flora Reinhold almost falls to her death and he has to save her. Of course he’ll adopt the orphan girl on the spot, though he’ll be so reluctant to let her accompany them on any adventures… 

And maybe in Future London, Layton will wonder if Aurora was wrong about the future of humanity, and wrong for placing her trust in him, if he turns out to be the leader of the Family.

[mooodyblue]

heyy i saw that requests are open and i was wondering if you could do like 70s elvis helping the reader who’s having a bad day? like they’re just sad for no reason and elvis comforts them?

if not no worries bestie

ty for the request! hope you enjoy 💕 comfort fics r always a favorite of mine.

pairing: 70s!elvis x gn!reader

wc: 1k

➸ masterlist

you were always one to keep your emotions bottled up inside. you never bothered anyone with your feelings or discussed them with your boyfriend. it was pointless especially when elvis had his own problems to deal with too. maybe you’d cry about it to yourself when nobody was around, but most of the time you’d tell yourself oh well, i’ll move on tomorrow.

but today, you just couldn't be bothered with anything. something was off and even elvis could tell. it started with you sleeping later than usual, his efforts of forcing you to get up out of bed failing. he’d grown frustrated with you, upset that he couldn't have breakfast with his own partner. it wasn't all that hard to get up out of bed, what was your problem?

then you moped around graceland all day. your answers were short, you were hesitant on eating and drinking water. you barely cracked a smile.

then it clicked in his brain—you just weren't having a good day.

elvis loved to spoil you on both good and bad days. he was always buying jewelry or clothes, even having things personally made just for you. despite countless times of you scolding him for doing so, he never stops.

he knew you needed something more than just just pretty, sparkly things today. his love for gift giving wasn't going to work on you.

the two of you lazed on the sofa while you were still distanced from elvis, awfully quiet with sad eyes. he pressed his lips to your temple, putting an arm around your shoulder. “honey,” he whispered sweetly into your ear. “you can talk t’me. whatever's on your mind, i’m all ears.”

you gave him a soft smile and a nod, your eyes focused back onto the tv in front of you.

“baby, talk to me.” he begged, “what's goin’ on? you won't talk t’me, you barely look at me. you just ain't yourself today, c'mon.”

you sighed, looking into your lap. “it’s just—” you honestly didn't have an answer. there wasn't a real way to explain why you felt so awful. “i don't know, elvis. i just feel sad.”

“sad?” he questioned, “did somethin’ happen? is it me?”

“no, no. not at all. not you, not anything. nothing happened.” you replied quickly. “sometimes i just get that way. no reason at all.”

he frowned and stood up, going to shut the tv off. “alright, baby. c'mon. i ain't gonna have that today.” he held his hand out to get you up off the sofa. before he said anything, he pulled you into a hug. “i’m sorry you’re havin’ a bad day, darlin'. you know i hate seein’ you so sad.”

elvis embraced you for a bit, the scent of his cologne and aftershave bringing you an odd sense of comfort. he made you feel safe. “you don't deserve t’feel sad at all, baby. not at all. i wish i could take away all those nasty lil’ thoughts inside that brain of yours.”

he pulled away to cup your cheeks, giving you a small smile. “‘n y'know darlin'…i am just so proud of you. you got outta bed t’day, brushed your teeth ‘n got yourself all pretty for the day. that's a big ol’ accomplishment.” his lips pressed against your forehead, gazing into your eyes for a few moments. “i’m gonna make it my goal to get a smile from ya. a real one, not just a tiny side one.”

with the snap of his fingers, an idea popped into his head. “how ‘bout a lil’ tlc? go for a walk around the garden ’n get some fresh air.”

“i don't know, el....” you looked out the window and back at him, the effort of walking around for a while just seeming like too much to bare. there wasn't much energy in your system, but you could do with a bit of sun.

“how ‘bout this then…” he took your hand, squeezing it softly. “just try steppin’ out the door. stand there ‘n take in that fresh air. how's that?”

that you could do. you agreed to step outside, just standing there with him as he had an arm around you—watching the birds fly by and listening to them chirp in the air. it was nice out, the sun was a bit too much at first but your eyes adjusted. it was nice taking in the outside air for once.

“wait right there.” elvis suddenly unattached himself from you, a confused look on your face as he walked off for a few minutes.

but to your surprise, he came back from around the house with a wide grin on his face. “now…i know i can't just magically make you not sad.” his hands were behind his back, his cheeks slightly pink. “but..maybe…” he brought his hands out, holding out dandelions that looked twice as small in his large hands. “for you, darlin’” he smiled.

your eyes widened, taking the tiny bundle of flowers in your hand.

“i-i-i can’t exactly go out ‘n get ya roses or anything like that right now s-so…these’ll have t’ do…” he was almost embarrassed, like he didn't know what to do that didn't involve buying you things. “ain't nothin’ special.”

“are you kidding?” you laughed, “you pulled them yourself. of course they're special.”

“w-well…i’m glad i could make you smile, honey.” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “and hey, i said i’d make you give me a real smile today. look at that, baby. you laughed. my favorite song.” he pecked at your lips, proudly beaming at you. “we can head inside and put ‘em in a nice lil’ jar. proud of ya for comin’ outside for a bit.”

you smiled at him again, your eyes lighting up at his sweet words with a nod. “sure, okay.”

he brought you inside, making sure the dandelions were on a sweet display on the dining table in their tiny glass jar. a sweet reminder of his love. “now, how 'bout some iddytream for my sweet lil’ baby?”

[ghostkingart]

OC tober 2024 - Day 14 - Prompt "Waking up from a nightmare"

word count: 1062

fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

pairing: Astarion Ancunin x Veles Gallaer

OC: Veles is a male drow who grew up in Menzoberranzan, but eventually managed to make his escape to the surface. He made a life for himself in Baldur's Gate as a shop owner by day and a masked vigilante by night, until he was snatched away by the nautiloid and, well, the rest is history.

author's note: prompt list and full story below the cut

The dream faded and the black, jagged rocks of the Underdark slowly fell away, getting replaced with the inside of his tent, illuminated by the golden glow of sunrise, as Veles opened his eyes.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. As soon as he closed his eyes, remnants of the dream appeared before him, so he decided not to do that too much for the time being. Other than the violent shaking, Veles was perfectly calm, though. He was used to these kinds of nightmares anyway, so there was no point in waking up with a start, panicking, waking up the whole camp, screaming or crying.

He simply started to get up, as carefully and quietly as possible, wanting to get some air. Unfortunately for him, Astarion was a bit of a light sleeper. Or, at the very least, he could sense when Veles himself was restless.

Astarion’s hand closed around Veles’s wrist, pulling him back down. Veles found himself in Astarion’s tight embrace.

“You’re shaking, darling. A bad dream?” He spoke sleepily.

“I’m fine,” Veles muttered.

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, I asked if you had a bad dream.”

Veles sighed. “I did, yes.”

Astarion pressed a gentle kiss to Veles’s forehead. “Alright. Let me hold you for now and we’ll talk later, hm?”

“I don’t—”

“Ah, forgive me,” Astarion cut off Veles’s protest, “I shouldn’t have phrased it as a question. Settle down, love. You need this.”

Astarion was starting to learn a bit too much about Veles’s wants and needs. Because, as it happened, he did need this. He just… didn’t want to give it to himself. He didn’t feel that he deserved such comfort.

But Astarion was insisting, keeping a comfortable, yet unbreakable grip on Veles while he tried to breathe slowly and relax in his lover’s arms.

It took a while. By the time Veles stopped shaking, the sun climbed high in the sky, lost its sharp glow and was steadily warming up the forest. “I’m fine,” Veles muttered again, this time with a bit more sincerity to it.

Astarion kissed his forehead again before finally letting go.

Veles remained lying down while Astarion got up, stretched, and started to get ready for the day. Veles watched him. He seemed to get infatuated with Astarion anew every single time he so much as lay his eyes upon him. It provided for a good distraction from the awful dream he’d had.

Eventually Veles got up as well and got dressed. The two went outside and sat on the riverbank, watching the shimmering water.

“What was it?” Astarion asked.

Veles didn’t want to talk about it, but at this point he was also getting to know Astarion and he knew that Astarion wouldn’t drop it easily. “It’s always the same,” Veles said with a shrug, doing his very best to minimize the impact these dreams had on him. He didn’t want Astarion to worry, or, Heavens forbid, waste his time consoling Veles when it was truly pointless. “The Underdark. Menzoberranzan. Sometimes my family is there, other times I’m alone. Sometimes it’s the temple. It’s nothing special, I’m used to it.”

“But it upsets you,” Astarion pointed out simply.

“I’m used to it,” Veles repeated.

“Why won’t you let me help?” Astarion asked softly.

“Like you ever do,” Veles deflected.

Astarion could have gotten angry, or snarky as he often did. He instead took Veles’s hand and started tracing his palm as a mindless, soothing action. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

“You know what I’m afraid of,” Veles said. Admitting that he was afraid at all would have gotten him killed in the Underdark. Talking about fears? That was unimaginable. Veles needed to constantly remind himself that he was no longer there, but the feeling of uneasiness remained.

“Tell me,” Astarion said.

Veles closed his eyes. The dream was still haunting him, so he opened them back up and stared at sun rays cascading across the water surface instead.

“I don’t want to go back there.” Veles was quiet for a while. It took some time for the dam to fully break, but once it was broken, there was no way to cram the water back up. “It’s not just that, though. I don’t want to put any of you in danger. If they come for me, you’re all as good as dead. Even if that doesn’t happen, even if I’m truly safe now, I don’t want to worry you all the time. I don’t want you to have to put me back together when it will never work. I just need to… I need to… figure this out on my own.”

“That’s the thing, love. You don’t. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me? You aren’t alone anymore and you know, I don’t find it a hassle to be there for you. In fact, I quite prefer it that way. You… You think you’re broken beyond repair. I know. I know the feeling all too well. But, as you’ve said, we’ll do it together.”

Veles swallowed down the burning sensation of oncoming tears. Preventing himself from crying was just another one of the habits he picked up from Menzoberranzan. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Unfortunately, not living in Menzoberranzan for a while left Veles without as strong of an ability to react without emotions as he could manage when he was there. So, his voice trembled a bit, and effectively gave him away.

“It’s alright,” Astarion said, but Veles wasn’t sure what he was reassuring him about. Perhaps everything at once. He wrapped his arm around Veles and pulled him in, in a way that Veles was hidden away in Astarion’s arms. From whom? There was no one around. The others were still asleep.

“It’s alright to be afraid. It’s alright to cry,” Astarion whispered. “Here, I’ll keep you safe. No one will have to know.”

Veles didn’t want to, but perhaps Astarion’s promise to keep him safe and keep it a secret finally broke him. Veles didn’t remember the last time he’d cried. It must have been decades ago, when he was still a child, before the women of his family taught him that crying was a punishable offense. Now, he could finally let himself cry without the threat of harm, even though he still stifled his sobs, crying softly, quietly.

[aceistheplace86]

ELYSIAN

//I wrote this like 4 years ago (so be nice) and someone told me I should be an author. Idk it was motivating to hear that I was good at something that I’ve always wanted to do. I’m working on some new stuff now :)

It was the girl who Allison Hargreeves brought to help Klaus with his addiction that caught Five Hargreeves attention.

The young boy was upset that his father didn't allow them to be children. He was upset with the way he was running things. His brother Klaus passed out during training the day before from day drinking but his father didn't care. His sister Vanya ran to him crying feeling left out. Five expressed these concerns last night during dinner. His father didn't care about them unless they had made him proud during training or during a mission. But nothing ever made him proud.

His father, Reginald Hargreeves couldn't care less if Five stayed in his room and pouted like a child, it only proved his point about not being mature enough to understand the full potential of their powers in order to get his praise. He was still upset about the outburst during dinner and the mark left on the table from Five's dinner knife.

It started one day when the siblings noticed Klaus's increase in alcohol to the point that he passed out during training and was quickly throw in the mausoleum.

Number 1 through 7 with the exception of number 4 had a meeting in Allison's room to discuss what they should do.

"He should just wise up and stop doing stuff that'll get him locked up in the mausoleum. He should just face his fears" Luther spoke. He didn't want to be here thinking this meeting was pointless.

"Oh what a genius idea" Number Five rolled his eyes "Let's go tell Klaus to just face his fears" He hated how self centered Luther could be sometimes.

Diego, Ben and Vanya stayed quiet. Vanya felt lucky enough to be included and didn't want to ruin her chances by speaking.

"Well I have an idea. I know a girl, someone who is special like us. She wasn't adopted by our dad" Allison spoke "She could help Klaus."

The children discussed the possibility and in the end came to the conclusion that they should call this girl and see what she could do.

Five stayed in his room trying to win a fight that only he was really having, when he heard the doorbell ring. He walked over to his window and looked down seeing a girl with brown curly hair. She wore a light blue t-shirt and jeans with converse. He decided to go downstairs to see what she would do.

Allison invited her in and the girl went straight to work in the kitchen. She had brought things with her and started working with what the Hargreeves had.

Five appeared in the kitchen next to her "what are you working on?" He asked curiously. He was drawn to her and he didn't know why.

"A drink" she says simply while mixing various liquids into a glass cup she had taken from the cabinet.

Five just watched her pull small bottles out of her bag and mix them all together in the cup "What's your name?"

The girl paused what she was doing and looked up at the boy who stood next to her. "Venus" she replied "And yours?"

"Five" he spoke "But you can call me Aidan if you want" he didn't know why he said that. That was the name given to him by his mother, Grace and she was the only one allowed to call him that. He hated it.

"Aidan and Five" she nods softly with a light smile "Interesting" she turns back to finishing the drink. "Well Aidan.. Five. Could you show me the room of Klaus?"

Five smiled hearing that dreaded name come from her beautiful voice. It wasn't so dreaded anymore. He turned and lead her to Klaus's room.

Venus noticed the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled.His smile was a little lopsided, like in a cocky way, but the good cocky way. She couldn't explain it.

Over the next couple days Venus came over to take note of Klaus's progress but stayed longer to talk to Five.

The two were sitting outside on the porch enjoying the cool air outside.

"So what did you put in that drink?" Five asked her.

"Just a base of fruits and vegetables" she says rubbing her hands a bit. The drink wasn't the cure. Venus calmed Klaus's fears with her own power. "Now anytime he feels scared he will have the urge to drink the mixture and it'll give him a sense of calm"

Venus then laughed a bit and looks at him "That's not as interesting as fighting crimes though"

Five's smile wavered and it took a lot to scowl "It's okay.. fighting crimes and what not" he started, looking at the gate ahead of them "but it feels more like a job"

"Yeah, go on" Venus spoke softly. Five was about to end the conversation but something about her made him want to talk more

"We train a lot these days. Everytime we wake up we go and study and train. It used to be fun, something we are willing to do, something we love to do but now it's like a competition to make him proud but no one realizes that nothing will make him proud" he stopped talking and shakes his head "That probably didn't make any sense"

"Yes it did" she says softly taking his hand into hers. They both looked at each other for a moment, now with more of an understanding about each other. It was as if they had known each other for so long rather for just a couple weeks.

That was the thing that made Venus special to Five. her kindness and understanding for everything he's been through or going through. With her, it didn't matter if he wasn't up to his father's expectations.To her he was just him. Five, a boy who was interested in time travel and wanted to be free.

Throughout the weeks the two met at the porch of the Hargreeves house and they just talked. He ranted to her then would feel a sense of calm. She made it seem like everything would be okay. She talked about exploring the world. The way her eyes light up when she talked about the places she wanted to go, made Five determined to take her anywhere. It was all possible.

Until one day Five lashed out at his father for treating him the way he did. He had felt a surge of confidence, he told him he was going to leave and live on his own.

Mr. Hargreeves didn't want his team that he worked so hard to build to fall apart because of fives temper tantrum. So Number 1 came along and took Five down to a sound proof cell and locked him in.

"He can come out once he realizes that my way is right and that he still has so much to learn." He told Pogo before walking away to his office.

Everyday Five sat in the cell and thought about Venus and her smile and her laugh. He thought about how once he got out they would go on a trip anywhere they wanted. He kept thinking about how her eyes lit up every time she saw him and that kept him going. Venus came to the house everyday and everyday she was told the same answer by Klaus. That didn't keep her from coming. She would wait for him as long as it took.

And she did.

[eyra]

Would you be comfortable sharing more about your experience with pmdd? I'm certain I have it, but I feel like it's pointless visiting the doctors because women's issues are often brushed to the side. But every month, the week to two weeks before is hell. I'm here now, and I've been crying all day yet feel empty. I can't bring myself to do a single thing. I've been snapping and just want to sleep all day. I feel like I just want to give up on everything 🩷

oh bless you 🤍 that’s no fun at all. and you’re so right in that women’s health is far too often brushed aside, and doubly-so with anything relating to periods. PMDD is a very isolating condition because unless you’ve got it, it’s so easy to dismiss it as “just PMS” and I find that so frustrating and upsetting.

basically: I had very easy periods all through my 20s and fairly good overall health. then in my early 30s (I’m 34 now) I kept having these bouts of feeling physically unwell, like I kept feeling as if I had a bad cold that I never quite managed to shake, and I was so tired and low energy all the time. I went to the doctor in summer 2022 and summer 2023, both times just telling them that I felt as if I couldn’t get well. I had various rounds of blood tests and scans and stuff and they eventually told me it was long covid and that there was nothing to be done other than get on with it. then towards the end of last year I started having moments of feeling desperately low emotionally - usually signposted by a few days of properly overreacting to stuff, which isn’t like me, and it would then descend into a few days of feeling very sad and not myself. I noticed that this was always happening in the days leading up to my period, so I just dismissed it as PMS, but then - as the emotional stuff was getting worse - I noticed that all the physical stuff was lining up with my cycle too. it got to the point where I was losing days and days every month to headaches and unbearable fatigue and I also just felt fully insane so I finally went back to the doctor and said I think all this stuff is related to my period - not long covid.

fortunately the doctor I saw that time was great. she took it very seriously and after a bit of back and forth she diagnosed it all as PMDD.

if you’re able to I’d really recommend trying to see a female doctor and speak to her about what you’ve got going on. keep a diary of your symptoms for a few months, literally tracking everything day by day. it’s arduous and frustrating but keep pushing them to take it seriously! there’s no cure and (obviously, annoyingly) very little research into it but there are things you can try to manage it, whether that’s lifestyle changes or medication. it’s very trial and error but speaking to a doc is the best place to start.

worth mentioning that not everyone with PMDD experiences physical symptoms - so even if you feel physically well, it’s still worth looking into.

I’d love to say I’ve found a load of really helpful resources and support online that I could share with you but genuinely I haven’t - hence the feelings of isolation - but always happy for anyone to reach out for a chat.

x