#and i need to avoid falling back into the pit of despair i was in yesterday

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 9th - Breeding (Papa Emeritus III x Female!Reader)

Tags: Established Relationship, Breeding, Mentions Of Miscarriage, Hurt/Comfort, Rough Sex, Praise, Light Body Worship, Multiple Orgasms, Cunilingus (Terzo Is A Munch), Fluff And Smut, First Person POV

My knee bounced up and down in anticipation, sat on the edge of the bathtub, waiting impatiently. When it's time, I gulp, anxiously looking down at the tiny test in my hand. Negative. Again. Tears start to brim in the corners of my eyes, but I quickly brush it off, taking a deep breath to self-regulate. I was used to the disappointment.

Me and Terzo have been trying for a baby for nearly a year, to no avail. I've seen dozens of negative pregnancy tests, and even the ones that appear positive at first, I end up losing that pregnancy soon after. I try my best to keep my head high, but the more negative tests keep building up, the bigger the pit in my stomach grows, swallowing any and all hope I've held onto. It was like a sick joke, the dream of having a family being just out of reach.

I toss the test in the trash, stepping outside the bathroom with a sigh. Terzo, who had been pacing around the bedroom with his hands clasped behind his back, stops in his tracks when he hears the door creak open. His head immediately snaps up, gaze nervous, expectant. "Well?" He asks tensely. I say nothing. I don't have to. My expression says all that needs to be said. Terzo frowns.

"Oh, amore..." His arms immediately encircle me, engulfing me in a bone-crushing hug. My heart ached as soon as I heard him speak, clearly trying his best to be strong for me, yet I can hear the disappointment in his voice. My throat grows tight as I choke back a sob, my hardened exterioir starting to crack.

"I thought... I thought it would take this time..." I sniffle, unable to hold back the everflowing stream of tears stinging my eyes as they cascade down my cheeks. "I don't u-understand... What's w-wrong with me?" I wept uncontrollably into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, shh... Nothing is wrong with you." Terzo reassures firmly, stroking my hair, his chin rested on the top of my head. "These things just take time, tesoro..." I pull away from his embrace, practically pushing him off me, remaining inconsolable.

"How much time? How much longer do we have to wait?" I heave frustratedly, my voice raw and cracking painfully with every word. Terzos eyes glazed over, powerless as he watched me break down. I know he hated seeing me in such despair, over and over again, while also feeling equally as devastated. I hardly consider the fact that this is destroying him, too.

Terzo swallowed harshly, rubbing his eyes before the tears even dare to escape, trying to remain stoic. "We'll keep trying." He croaked calmly, sounding as if he's trying to convince himself that everything's going to be okay more than he's trying to convince me. "We'll keep trying..."

My bottom lip quivers, my eyes already red and puffy, snot building up in my sinuses, no doubt looking like a hot mess. "I... I need to be alone right now..." I whimper hoarsely, overwhelmed and needing time to wallow in my sorrows by myself. Terzo nods understandingly, even though I can tell he's reluctant. I avoid looking him in the eyes, for fear that it would send me over the edge even further.

"Let me know if you need anything, amore." He murmured. "Just don't keep yourself locked away for too long, si? I love you, tesoro..." And with that, he left the room, gently closing the door behind him, granting me the space I asked for. I immediately fell onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow to sob hysterically.

-

I can't pinpoint when exactly I managed to fall asleep, but I woke up suddenly to a delightful smell. Opening my eyes, I see Terzo, holding a plate of my favorite food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. "I knew you'd be roused awake as soon as I brought your food in." Terzo grins, admittedly relieved to see me up.

"I thought this would make you feel better." He says, placing the dish down on the bedside table. He shakes around the bottle of wine enticingly. "And this is here to make me feel better. But you're welcome to have some too, of course..." He kneels down beside me, brushing strands of hair out of my face, gazing into my eyes sincerely. "How are you feeling, tesoro?"

"Terrible." I chuckle humourlessly, my nose stuffy and voice slightly nasaled. I feel nothing but numb at this point, empty. Terzo smiles weakly, squeezing my hand and gently stroking the skin with his thumb. He'd seen me in this disheveled state a hundred times before, but this time it was different. I felt so defeated, resigned, and to Terzo it seemed like I was giving up, which terrified him. "I know." He acknowledged, smile fading. "Me too..."

We sit together in silence for what feels like hours, halfheartedly picking at the food he brought me with a fork, my appetite lacking. Terzo lay down in the bed beside me, an arm wrapped securely around me as he takes a swig of his wine straight from the bottle, neither of us so much as looking at each other, devoid of our usual energy.

"We will have a baby." He declared, his brows furrowed with a look of unwaivering determination. "One of these days, it will take, and we'll have a little one of our own in our arms, filling our life with joy and stinky diapers. But until then, we will keep trying. It's not hopeless, cara mia. You need to know this." I couldn't help the faint smirk that grew on my face. It always warmed my heart to see his determination and resilience shine through, even in the hardest of times.

I nod in silent agreement, but he tuts, setting the bottle of wine down to use his spare hand to grab me by the chin, gently maneuvering my face to look at him. "I want to hear you say it, amore mio." He insists, gaze unwavering. For some reason, his face so close to mine, his commanding tone, sends a shiver down my spine and a fluttering sensation in my chest and... somewhere else. I breathe in. "It's not hopeless." My words came out a bit shaky, but still resolute. "We will keep trying."

Terzo takes notice of the subtle shift in my demeanor, cocking an eyebrow. He can feel my breathing starting to pick up, and he's immediately on guard, eyes flicking down towards my lips briefly; I know that look. "Who knows," he purrs. "Perhaps the one that takes... Could be conceived tonight?" He suggests, half-jokingly. His usual confidence waivers, unsure if he should be suggesting that kind of thing while just hours ago I was in such a fragile mental state.

My body is hyper-aware of his proximity, the scent of him surrounding me, his gloved hand trailing down from underneath my chin to caress my neck. "I wouldn't mind trying." I shudder, my breath hitching audibly as he leans closer, lips ghosting mine. Heat pools in my core, the idea, the hope, that tonight might be the night, that maybe we could finally get what we'd been wanting for so long. It sets my blood on fire.

He closes the gap between us, lips pressing together, exchanging kisses, sweet and tender at first, but they quickly build to be more passionate, desperate. Our teeth clash together from the force, but we are both too wound-up to care, our tongues intertwining and sloppily fighting for dominance. His hands slide over my body, slipping under my shirt to grope my bare breasts in a firm, possessive hold. "Get on your back." He whispers lowly, leaving no room for questioning.

I do as I'm told, excitement rushing through blood, causing a full-body shiver of anticipation. Without another word, he rolls on top of me, trapping me between his body and the mattress. He licks his lips hungrily, wasting no time tearing off my pajama pants and my underwear with renewed vigor, lowering himself down to press his face against my sex. "Need to get a taste of your cunt before I stuff you full..." He gruffs before delving his tongue into my hole, lapping up as much of my slick as possible.

I clench, my hips gyrating against his face, in need of friction on my clit. I let out a noise between a gasp and a moan, obnoxiously loud and needy. He knows exactly what I crave, and runs his thumb across my slit, up to the little bundle of nerves that so desperately needs attention. He puts pressure on my clit, rubbing it in slow, circular motions, as his tongue delves in and out of me, devouring my pussy as if it was his favorite meal.

Terzo, with his impeccable skill, has me cumming on his tongue within minutes, greedily slurping down every last drop of my juices. My vision is blurred from the intensity of the orgasm, my body tingling in a daze. Before I can come down fully from my high, Terzo has already hoisted himself up over me, swiftly taking his throbbing cock out and plunging deep in my walls. Hes always loved fucking me after making me cum with his mouth, claiming I was all the more wetter, warmer after a good, hard orgasm.

Usually when we were intimate, he was gentle, loving. We made love, sensual caresses and sweet nothings whispered into one anothers ears. But tonight, he was fucking me. His hips snapped brutally against mine with reckless abandon, giving me no time to adjust, which in return only made me squeeze tighter around him. There's no time for softness now, only a deep and primal urge to breed.

"F-fucking good girl. S-so tight, fucking milking my cock. Satanas!" He growls, his eyes trained on the way my body bounced and jiggled as he pounded into me, especially my belly. He rubbed his hands up and down my torso, gripping the supple flesh appreciatively. "You are going to look so beautiful when you swell with my child. Seeing this fucking stomach, all round and full of me... I won't be able to keep my hands off of you, tesoro."

This was a side of Terzo I've never seen before. Desperate, greedy, borderline animalistic, like he was addicted to my cunt and was using me as a means to get his fix. He was filthy, starved, and filling my womb with his seed was the only way to satiate his hunger. He thrusts harder, faster, till it's almost too much for either of us to handle. Almost. Terzo has always pleased me so good every time, better than anyone else ever has, but this time was incomparable. I was so embarrassingly wet, creaming on his dick, watching the white foamy mess encapsulate his member below, making a mess of his well-trimmed pubic hair.

My head is spinning, another orgasm brewing within me once again. The coil in my abdomen tightens with every thrust, ready to snap. "Are you ready for Papa to breed you? Are you ready for me to make you a mother? Cum on my cock, cara. Let's cum together." His words are exactly what I need to hear to cause the dam inside me to finally break, indescribable pleasure sparking throughout every nerve ending in my body, forgetting everything I've ever known, nothing remaining in my mind but pure bliss.

He finishes soon after me, a final rut into my tight walls as he spills himself impossibly deep within me. I welcome the comforting warmth of his seed filling me, feeling so close to him in more ways than one. For a moment, we are one, truly one, and there is no moment in history more beautiful to me. Dick softening, he pulls out of me, eliciting one last whine from him. He drops to my side, chest heaving, the both of us feeling boneless and tired.

"You okay?" He murmurs, compassion and concern etched in his voice. I nod, my mind too far gone to speak properly. The only thing I can focus on is the blobs of his spend leaking out of me and dripping down my thighs. He is warm and secure, and I've never felt better or safer than I do right now with him. Of course, I do hope his seed will take root, but the idea of getting to be fucked like this more often makes me hope we will have to keep trying, again and again. I don't ever want to go an evening where I'm not stuffed full.

-

[yanderes-galore]

Hmm how about Junko enoshima from danganronpa with prompt 4. From your yandere prompt list

Sure! I hope I depict her well in this....

Yandere! Junko Enoshima Prompt 4

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Sadism, Junko likes to hurt you both, Blood, Implications of darling dying, Extremely dark themes, Forced "relationship".

"Don't you want to hurt me?"

The question sounds genuine... yet taunting. You don't comment at first, too busy on the scene in front of you. A metallic smell overwhelms your nose... causing you to shake.

Corpses... all of the faces you once knew... from acquaintances to close friends... They lay in the classroom like butchered meat with stab wounds in their flesh.

"Please, you didn't expect them all to live, right?" Junko muses, "It's so much more fun if none of them live. You cared about them too much... made me quite upset, actually."

You remain silent, bile building in your throat as you look at the scene. You collapse on your knees as you look it over. Junko had dragged you to a classroom to show you a scene she no doubt created herself. Blood coated the walls... barely hiding the corpses of those you once knew alive.

Why...?

Because it hurt you... and that was cute to her.

"Ohhh, don't act like I don't see that look in your eye!" Junko coos, big blue eyes staring down at you as she seats herself in front of you. Blood, in its nauseating color, coats her clothes as she gives you a Cheshire grin.

"You want to hurt me~!" Junko chirps, "You want to hurt me back because I broke all your precious little relationships... let's be honest, honey... the only relationship that matters is ours!"

"We don't have a relationship!" You bark, causing Junko to howl in laughter.

"Ouch... that makes me so sad... seeing you deny me like that hurts... I love it...!" Junko purrs with a grin. "You look so cute when you're deep in the pits of despair... They must've meant a lot to you."

This was the game Junko always liked to play. Junko only ever loved despair. It's an emotion she lusts after, while others try to avoid it.

You have a speculation what Junko feels towards you... isn't love. No, she doesn't genuinely love you. She's obsessed with you... but not entirely you as a being...

She's obsessed with causing you anguish... because it makes her feel the same way.

She loves you in her own twisted way. She both loves yet hates it when you hate her back. When she successfully manages to make you act out against her... She feels despair.

Making you fall into despair drags her with you... like you're both chained together.

"It hurts, doesn't it? To be so deep in despair? To know you're all alone except for me...?" Junko pouts playfully, coming closer to kneel down in front of you. "Don't you hate me?"

She cups your face, nails digging into your skin as you violently try to pull away.

"There's no need to hide your hate, sweetheart. I see it in your eyes." Junko hums, slowly grinning as you glare at her.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it." Junko admits. "I want you to hurt me, to make me feel pain and despair... I want the person I love most to despise me... know why?"

You don't bother answering, watching with disgust as Junko lets you go to retrieve something from a corpse.

"It causes me great despair to be the cause of your pain..." Junko confesses, pulling a large knife from a corpse. The blade drips the tainted substance of blood, making you gag. "I love it. I love it as much as I love you... if not more...."

You freeze when Junko approaches with the knife, the blade wet with its past kills. Junko grins down at you, toying with the blade as she ponders what to do next. A shiver runs down your spine.

"Seeing you glare at me, hating me... To see that come from someone I care about to the point of infatuation... the amount of despair I gain is euphoric." Junko shudders with a deranged giggle.

"You could do anything to me..." Junko smiles, circling you like a hungry shark who just smelled blood in the water. "You could hurt me in any way... and I'd never stop loving you... I'll just keep coming back for more."

Junko then goes silent for a moment, pausing in front of you to look over the knife. She appears to be in deep thought before an idea comes in mind. You go to weakly pull yourself off the ground, only for Junko to lunge.

You fall to the blood soaked wood of the classroom. Junko is quick to straddle you as she presses the blade to your chest. She stares down at you with eager eyes... your fear is delectable.

"You know..." Junko trails, looking at your quivering form as you try to move. She stops such attempts by pressing the knife's edge to your throat. "The ultimate feeling of despair would come from us killing each other...."

Your heart picks up, staring at the girl in fear as she grins wickedly. She's serious....

"Don't you know how much it would hurt? How much it would pleasantly ache to have to kill the one I love? That, or have you hate me enough to bring me to the brink of death? You know how much DESPAIR that would cause us...?" Junko continues, practically salivating at the thought.

"It would be the ultimate conclusion to our love, sweetheart! The ultimate way to show that you're mine and we were always meant to be!" Junko sighs dreamily, toying with the blade again. "So... what do you say?"

Junko then grabs your hand, wrapping it around the handle of the blade as she still holds it.

Her gaze is hypnotic, evidence of her spiraling into despair at the thought of you hurting one another... and your fear only adds to the feeling.

"I want you to hurt me."

[georgichan]

would love to see a one shot of someone (either villager or farmer) comforting a drunk shane and not forcing him to get sober immediately, just being there for him when he needs it. kind of angsty fluff ig

Of course Anon! <3 Always love a good bit of Shane angst so thanks for the request _________________________

The rain.

It never seemed to stop.

Ever

He ran his hands down his face, before slumping forward a little. Eyes growing so heavy, he took another sip before tossing can to ground. Without really thinking, the sound of a can opening and he was already taking another sip of a freshly opened beer. The perfect taste, it slid down like water. Nothing better in this world, just the last one for the day. Can stop anytime after all and it was fine of course. It always was. Surely?

He looked up at sky and tried to contemplate how he got to this place, how his feet had towed body to sit on the edge of abyss. He was fine, he was always fine. Joja as usual in the morning and everyone deserved a break after a long day. This was just that and he took another sip. Etching down throat, the feeling laced with the numbness that followed. Chasing that feeling of drowning. Chasing away the thoughts that edge away at each passing hour until he couldn’t think anymore.

Crunching can and tossing it to the ground without really thinking. Thinking never helped much anyway, it was better for such things to be avoided.

What a touching idea that was.

He wished he could stop. Stop thinking about where he would be in the morning. Thinking that he was a failure. Thinking that he would let down Marnie and Jas again and again…

And again.

Another sip, he leaned back into sodden grass. Eyes taking in the grey covered sky and he simply pretended this was okay. This was justice, it was right. All he would have to do is slip and it would be the end. Falling alone, how fitting.

Eyes seemed to fall shut, can clutched in hand. This could be it.

…

…

“Shane, is that you?”

Fuck, of course it was them. The entire town and it was them.

The Farmer.

“just leave me alone-“. He tells them plainly, eyes looking anywhere but at them.

They don’t say anything, they seem to just stand behind him for what felt like too long. Then he heard steps of them inching closer. He heard the rustling of the grass, till it was clear what was happening as the farmer sat down next to him. Time began to blur and the farmer remained. Sitting with Shane as the rain continued to fall and he couldn’t fall out of his pit of despair enough to pay attention.

As the rain got harder, he wondered why they didn’t just leave. It’s what he deserved.

Then the silence was broken again.

Strangely enough by him.

“I don’t get it, why don’t you leave?”

“Why would I leave?” A quick response by the farmer.

Shane hiccupped, struggling to sit up to look at the farmer. He knocked over cans as he did and the world seemed to spin as a result. “Because it’s what I deserve. To be here, just me, some beers and that cliff-“. He felt so defeated, he couldn’t even hide it. All he could think about was rolling off that damn cliff, hoping it could at least look like an accident. Hoping people didn’t realise just how damn pathetic he was.

“I’m not leaving-“. They tell him, and he can feel the sincerity from their eyes alone. The farmer reaches out, hands outstretching to lightly touch his shoulder. He doesn’t have the energy to push back, he doesn’t have the energy to deny that such a gesture felt nice.

He went to retort but the farmer gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Can I tell you a story?”

“A… story?” He can’t help but look at the farmer in disbelief, but he nods at them, giving them permission to continue.

“You know before I moved here, I used to work in the city. Some stupid office and for Joja of all people”, The farmer didn’t meet his gaze as they spoke, simply staring off the edge of the cliff.

“I used to wake up and feel such a sense of dread each day. I used to think it would feel like that forever. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I was wrong”.

“That doesn’t mean anything to me-“, Shane offers in response.

“I wouldn’t have held onto to such things either, but it is true. Whether you believe me or not-“. The farmer finally met his gaze again, eyes so gentle.  “But I’m not expecting grand gestures. I just want one thing”.

More confusion to follow and he looked at the farmer without even trying to hide it.

“What?” He finally asked, eyebrows raising in confusion. It was hard enough to stay conscious, let alone to think.

“Just don’t tell me to go away”

For once he didn’t fight, he simply nodded.

The farmed inched closer, a comforting presence.

They would both have to go soon.

He would have to accept some consequences of surrounding metal.

Yet looking at them, he felt butterflies.

He didn’t feel alone. (Also posted on AO3)

[ipromiseimawriter]

anyone who knows me well knows that i tend to run on spite. for me, it's like if hope got its teeth knocked out a hundred times and got up for a hundred and one. one more round. one more throw. it's indignance. anger. baring my teeth. it's my father's fault for handing me his anger. because even through my fear and caution and cowardice, i became something he can't avoid - someone who gives a fuck about other people.

whatever you run on -- use it to fill your tank. provide for your people. reach out to your community (and yes that includes people you don't know, people you can help overseas and next door).

i can't pretend like i know what to do. there are genuinely helpful posts circulating around in terms of supporting yourself and getting medical appointments and doing the fucking work. i'll get those around too. like a lot of people, i'd hoped this would change things. but now that it hasn't (and it has, and it has), there's so much fucking work to do. i know there's a lot of that for myself, too.

last night i couldn't help but despair, even before the election results fully came in. body keeps score, etc etc. november is a weird personal month for me as is, and then the election happens. i don't need to get into that rn, we all know.

the world doesn't revolve around me. never has, never will. but i felt the pit fall and i felt myself slipping off of a precipice i've hooked myself onto. i'm not proud of that, but i can't hang onto that guilt. i know so many people were/are feeling fragile and grievous and like they're out of options.

but i went home after work and laughed with my friends. i talked to my roommate. i paced around my room and listened to music all night before bed, and woke up with something a lil newer and angrier. a new shard on my shoulder. i hope you can tap back into what moves you. i know you will, actually.

the grief isn't over. there are people in danger, all around the fucking world. but everything else continues.

[ghostlyfeelings]

july

a doe eyed baby sometimes felt a women. i was her and she was me. i was the care taker. child taking care of her mother. this isnt really something new but has been a consistent theme even as i have become older. family became a prominent subject. one i don't touch very often. all for good reasons but sometimes the universe shoves it at you all at once. i tiptoed around my house in avoidance. didn't want to rock any boats or have mine rocked. again, this is something i am familiar with. then came the phone call that will have an everlasting effect on the rest of my life. to let me know my nanny died. my mother and aunt screaming at eachother hours later was the cherry on top of an already shitty cake. i fell into a big black pit of despair. i stayed there. i felt all of the emotions until i felt absolute nothingness. spent one night getting black out drunk and throwing up. on the streets, at the bar, in the designated smoking area. got into a fight with a girl. apologized days later. gave myself two weeks of sobriety after that. to process and feel and heal. felt really proud of myself. then the life in my eyes finally started to come back. felt high on the beauty of nature. felt connected to it all. saw two dragonflies in one sitting. could feel my grandmas energy. wrote her a letter that i will never get to send. so i silently and knowingly sent it up to her in heaven. felt a lot of gratitude for the friends i have. for my pets and the universe. for the past versions of me that got me here. began to rescue bugs from drowning in the pool. began to feel and think deeply about their lives. wondered if they have other bugs waiting for them somewhere and if they don't return, do they feel their heart break too? went on my first date since the breakup. he gave me a rose. ended at the strip club three guys later. gave me a boost of confidence. went home and still wished it was my ex holding me. felt like something strange was going on in the cosmos. had a nice dose of the reality that my body is older by needing an entire day to recover from that hangover. found a lot of joy in spending time with myself. feel happy knowing i don't need a relationship to fulfill something lacking inside of me anymore. that i can fill my own cup, that i can talk myself down. held myself through it all and it felt different from when i would ask someone to hold me so that i didn't fall apart. i talk to my plants and the trees and the bugs too. just the way i do when i imagine child me, doe eyed and looking for gentleness. i commit fully to breaking this generational curse. i commit fully to not being cruel. im ready for some change and a nice thunderstorm or two. to believing in love and allowing myself to feel that i am loved too.

[ladybellissima]

Finding Love Katakuri x Reader Part 27

Slowly her eyes opened and (Y/N) found herself on the cold hard floor, while the morning sun shone brightly across her beautiful form. Her look wandered to Katakuri's vivre card and let her quickly got up from the floor. Weakly she made her way out onto the corridor and walked straight to the only person, who could help her right now. Pushing his office door open, (Y/N) was relieved to see Oven at his desk, but not only him. Brulee, Daifuku and other siblings were discussing something on high alert.

"What are you talking Oven! We have to leave immediately.", Brulee shouted pissed and smacked the table out of anger.

"Brulee! Don't get the wrong idea, I want to go too, but think about it. We have no chance. It would lead us into our despair! First Mama would never allow us to leave whole cake unprotected. Second there are sure High ranked Admirals. Do you believe that running in our death would help?", he growled back pissed and the next moment he fell silent after noticing (Y/N) 's presence at the door. Brulee turned around and shut her mouth bitterly after looking down to the beautiful woman.

In an instant (Y/N) could see by their shocked and uneasy expressions that they sure had some news about Katakuri.

(Y/N) didn't need to ask anything. Since Katakuri left, it was the main topic of their talks, the moment she stepped into his office. Oven was still progressing what he heard from the daily news. His whole body was a trembling mess. And out of all people (Y/N) came into his office. The only person he wished to avoid at all costs. How should he explain his brother's situation? How should he tell her that she was losing him?

"Good morning (Y/N)… There are no news. We are just discussing something important.", he lied bitterly to get time to think. Brulee and the others gave her a pitful look full of sadness. Narrowing her eyes about his awful try to lie, she watched his struggling. Sighing deeply about the fact that he really tried to hide information, she stepped before his desk with a serious expression.

"Tell me Oven. What's going on with my husband.", she spoke with pleading eyes. The look which always took his soft spot. Frustrated he avoid her strong gaze and stayed by his words to know nothing new. He just couldn't tell her. It was so unbelievable. It couldn't be real. (Y/N) could see how he was fighting with his inner self. He seemed helpless and it let herself get a shaken mess of fear. Brulee brushed through her hair in a lovingly manner, while tears brickled at the corner of her eyes.

"I know that Katakuri is in trouble….", (Y/N) started and placed her husband's vivre card on his desk. Confused he looked down and gave the piece of paper a closer look. After noticing the burning end and the powerful presence of his brother everyone gasp of shock.

" That's.. That's his vivre card. You have Katakuri's vivre card?", he spoke  surprised and took it in his hands like a trophy.

"And most of it is still intact.. That's a good sign more or less in his situation..", he blurted out and stopped in his tracks after feeling (Y/N) 's strong look. He knew it would break her. And he knew that she had to face the awful truth sooner or later. Meeting her gaze he got up from his seat and walked around his desk to reach her side. His moves alone worsened her terrible feeling. Taking her hands she couldn't stop the tears to fall.

"(Y/N)… We heard from the early news that Katakuri got caught by the marines."

Gasping she could imagine what this meant for her husband. Oven hugged her small form and rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

"He is alive but … They will bring him to the marineford base G-1 and lock him away, till he will be… God damn it… Executed.", he spoke seriously and bite his lip of hearing the desperate cry of (Y/N).

"No… No…this isn't true..please we have to help him… ",she cried and fell onto her knees.

"(Y/N).. There is nothing we can do..", he spoke frustrated and had to surpress his own tears.

"But Oven… We can't just do nothing..there has to be a way.", Flambe cried bitterly beside (Y/N) and hugged her tightly. It was the first time that she was this close to her. But that wasn't important. Nothing was important right now. Only her husband was on her mind.

" Flambe… I already told you. What should we do? We are known pirates. Leaving the territory and attacking the marineford would be the death of us. There are Admirals out there, which are more than dangerous…and more than happy to kill one Charlotte after another. And whole cake would get attacked as well if we leave it unprotected. Plus Mama would be furious if we just leave everything behind and go… We already suffer from her punishment…", Oven spoke frustrated.

" I have to agree. It seems that we have to face our big brothers death… ", Daifuku spoke with a blank expression. The others gasp of his words and were shaken.

(Y/N) fell silent. Her look was focused onto the floor. Her whole body felt numb, while her mind was racing. She knew that things seemed helpless, but what was her life worth anymore without the man she loved? The answer was simple. Nothing. She would rather die while trying to save him, than giving up in the first place. But how? What could she do?

"Then let me go..", she whispered coldly.

Shocked everyone's look fell on (Y/N) while Oven took her hands to get her attention.

"(Y/N) what are you talking about? It's way too dangerous out there. You have no ability to fight. And there is no way that you will be able to get inside this place.", he tried to get her back to her senses, but her angered look let him stop.

" How do you know? Compared to you and everyone else here in this room, I am a person with no bounty on my head.", she shot back and took him off guard.

" But (Y/N) you are still a Charlotte. You are married to Katakuri.. This made you a pirate as well.. ", Brulee tried to cut in.

"Yeah and? Even if they know that. It was a political marriage. I am not a Charlotte by blood and did nothing wrong.", she spoke seriously. Looking into their surprised faces she knew that she got a point.

"I can't go on without him. I can't. Please give me a ship with a small team and let me sail to Katakuri. Even if they kill me with him. He won't be alone. I would be by his side. It's better than endure this nightmare here without doing anything..", she spoke frustrated and let the others cry of the thought to lose her too.

Suddenly a loud clash echoed through the room. Gasping they looked to Oven who broke his desk with a powerful punch in two.

"Stop it now (Y/N). It's enough. You will stay here.", he shouted and let everyone fell silent.

"Katakuri wouldn't want that. He wants you to be safe. I promised him to keep an eye on you, not letting you go to kill yourself. Those marines are bastards. You can't imagine what they are able to do. Just give up already. ", he watched her crying form bitterly.

Getting her husband's vivre card she left his office without another word and ran full speed back to her room. Smashing the door shut she pressed her body against the door and cried out desperately. Frustrated she grabbed a backpack and pushed everything she was able to inside. Never would she accept that. Never would she let him get through this alone. She had to be by his side.

"Oven…was that really necessary to shout at her.?", Brulee asked angered. Sighing deeply he gave his sister an annoyed look.

"Now I know why Katakuri was so restless all the time. She is way too reckless with her life."

"She loves him…"

Brulee's words took him off guard and let him fell silent. It pained his heart that (Y/N) had to go through that, but what should he do? God damn it he would gladly go on a rampage at the marine base. For a moment no one dared to say something.

"She won't run away or will she?", Daifuku cut through the uncomfortable situation and got everyone's attention. Eyes widened Brulee rushed out to get to (Y/N) 's room, which looked like it exploded. Clothes and other items were scattered across the floor, but the most important thing was that Katakuri's wife was nowhere to be found. The others catched up with their sister and looked into the empty room shocked.

"Quick look for her. She sure is on the way to the bay!", Oven shouted and everyone started to look for their beloved sister in law.

(Y/N) knew that they would soon find out about her leaving and sure would look for her by the ships. Hiding in her bath tube she slowly got out and left her room as well. Her silent steps reached the cellar of whole cake chateau.

" Luckily Pudding showed me everything in our free time.", (Y/N) whispered relieved and stopped before a bookshelf. Getting a key out of one of the many books, she thought that maybe Pudding did that on purpose that she would have a possibility to leave if something would happen. Like her current situation.

Opening a big double door (Y/N) stopped before Mama's special submerge candy I. Pudding showed her the high tech vehicle which looked like a big bonbon. The main room was the center, while the ends of the candy was used for the motors. Quickly she jumped in and get herself ready. It wasn't surprising that it was full of high tech equipment. There was everything she needed for this troublesome journey before her. A computer with a map, a small sleeping place, utensils to get herself cleaned up and even a bag with a high amount of bonbons and other sweets to eat. A pink bag got her attention with a familiar handwriting on it. With the words "use wisely" (Y/N) gave it a closer look. There were different colored balls inside and a small note.

"(Y/N) if you find these, then it means that you are in trouble and have to leave whole cake. I swore to myself that if Katakuri isn't there that I will look over you. This underwater ship is the fastest one of Mama's and the map shows you every route you want. The pink ball is a healing bonbon. It is able to heal your body in an instant. The blue ones are for supporting your body and strength. Use them wisely in need. Please be safe out there till Mama got back to her senses and Katakuri is by your side again.

Pudding. "

Gasping she felt a tear roll down her face. It really was on purpose if she got in trouble with Mama. Balling her fists motivated (Y/N) started the engine and tapped the name of the marine base into the computer. In an instant it showed her through a navigation system where to go. (Y/N) was grateful for the hours of lessons about maps and geography back then as a child. It always was annoying and boring, but now more than useful for her.

With full speed she left the chateau through the underground and quickly reached the open sea.

"Master Oven, servants heard some ruckus from the Underground.", some servants called out and let him froze in the spot.

"This can't be!!"

Getting back to whole cake with full speed they were watching the scene with horror.

"She took Mama's submarine ship!!!!", Oven and the others shouted shocked.

"How on earth was she able to do that! No one is allowed to touch it. It's her most expensive and loved ship!", Brulee cried terrifyed, while Pudding smiled weakly.

"Pudding? Did you….", Oven growled pissed, but stopped after seeing her tears.

"How unfortunate. How could she find the keys?", she awfully lied and left the others heartbroken. There was nothing they could do now. No ship would be able to reach her in time. And it would only cause her more trouble if they follow her and get everyone's attention.

" Please (Y/N)…. Don't die.."

xxx

At that very moment a horrible feeling washed over Katakuri's body, but he hadn't the time to think about it. Beaten up badly he was transported to the marineford and pushed before the doors. His wounded body met the dirty ground. Blood trickled down his forehead and let his vision got blurry. The doors opened and a tall figure stepped before his awful state. Gasping was heard and he noticed the marines around him bowing before this man.

"What do we have here…Finally we got someone from the Charlotte clan… On top a sweet general. A very known general I have to add.", the man spoke in a mocking tone. Lifting his head he was met with the intimating aura of Admiral Akainu.

"Admiral Akainu. It's a pleasure to meet you. It's a honor that you come all the way here for this scum.", Leutnant Zotto spoke frightened.

"Sure I had to see with my very own eyes that he is now in our hands. Good job Leutnant. I will think of a reward for your brave action.", he spoke and let the man smile brightly of proudness. Bowing respectfully Leutnant Zotto stepped aside to give his superior enough space. The Admiral got before the big mom pirate and watched his wounded body amused.

"How is it going Katakuri Charlotte? The man with the highest bounty. I hope you enjoyed your travel."

"Skip this nonsense and come to the point.", Katakuri spoke angered and watched the man without any fear, while the others gasped of his rudeness.

Chuckling he heated up his hand with his devil fruit power and slowly pressed it onto his back to push him down to the dirt. Gasping of the immense pain on his back he growled frustrated.

"We will have much fun together. After hearing the news I came all the way here to see you, Charlotte brat. I won't give you the pleasure to die here and now. You will talk. Tell us everything we want till we are satisfied. Then maybe I give you the sweet release of dying.", he spoke with a smirk, while Katakuri growled pissed.

" Don't waste your time. I will never betray my family and tell you bastards anything.", he spoke coldy and got another hurtful touch of the Admiral.

" We will see… We have all time in the world. "

[walksonstars]

Kind of obsessed with this idea of Merlin being the reason Arthur and co. comes back.

That merlin waits, and waits, and waits then breaks. He fall into a pit of despair at the lost of them at where he went wrong and somehow manages to scrape himself back together and takes a step forward.

He moves on and he has a life he makes friends and falls on love and in some lives its peaceful their happy-- but he outlives them. Again and again and again.

Sometimes its wars, a stray bullet that he couldn't stop or a car on a twisty road, health condition, robbery gone wrong, natural causes and old age.

Both are worse. Age so long with them only to lose them in a way you can never follow that you always want to follow. Accidents, accents that he can never stop that he wasn't there for or was to late to avoid.

Lifetime after lifetime with his first family's death never healed and after a particularly hard life (a valid argument could be made for nearly anywhere in the 20th century) he snaps. Has some wanda vision-esque episode where he pours his magic into the earth and refuses to let people die or something.

Maybe he works around the rules of exchange and tries to put the world to sleep. Eternal life as long as they dream. But the rules of dreams are so different it doesn't fit the form of real life its not where people belong stuck going forward in a place with no up or down.

(Good place for a sandman crossover tbh)

Or maybe he wants to burn it all down. That if there's no earth he can't be tied to it trapped in what should have been his corpse a hundred times over.

Maybe he wants to be the reason. Maybe Arthur is the only one that can kill him.

And Arthur and co come back but Merlin... merlin isn't okay. Merlin can't be ok because merlin needs to rest and he can't.

I think he would be to broken to fix. I don't think he want to be.

I think that finally Arthur would be able to lay him to rest and Arthur and co would have to live a lifetime without Merlin constantly feeling his loss.

But they can die and this time the reincarnate together and so does Merlin. Arthur and co remember first and Merlin knows but doesn't. There's so much pain in remembering and they understand and they don't push and slowly they build a new future together, all of them with a few memories scattered in but not weighing them down not making them copies of who they were just embraces of who they are at their core.

Anyway thats my thoughts on it.

Insane Merlin AU

Hear me out, hear me out!

What if, instead of waiting for Albion's moment of greatest need, Merlin brings it upon them?

Like. After years of desperately waiting, Merlin would be like, “Arthur needs a catastrophe to wake up? Well, I'll do one.”

To the point of what if he is the one responsible for the destruction of Camelot?

And Arthur actually comes back then, only to watch in horror how Merlin turned, and it would be up to him to save Merlin this time

Holy shit

[waternilly]

Don't Be Afraid of Being Hurt

Fandom: Harry Potter Ship: George Weasley x Reader (Gender, Race & House neutral) Word count: 1.5k Warnings: Angst (no happy ending, just angst) A/N at the end of the text

The Yule Ball was a time to celebrate, dance, sing, and enjoy life for everyone present. But to you, the Yule Ball was your worst nightmare. It had barely been sixteen days since you had your heart broken by the one person you never thought would be able to do this.

You had loved George Weasley dearly, although secretly. His mere presence in a room was enough to make it shine brighter. He always had the words to comfort you, to make you laugh, to change your mind. He gave the tightest bear hugs and the softest forehead kisses.

But it had all abruptly come to an end.

He had asked someone else out to the Yule Ball.

She had said yes.

Then you had been asked out by someone else.

And you had said yes too.

You had avoided him since, despite usually always being attached to his hip.

Now that the ball was mere hours away, you did not know what to do anymore. Would you have the strength to go, and face him? Would you even be able to enjoy yourself? All you could think about was George and this beautiful girl he had asked out slow dancing together. What a shame it would be for your date, and you, if you spent the entire night on the edge of a breakdown because of this.

Letting your head fall into an open book, you sighed deeply. The library was thankfully almost empty, so no one could see your despair. And even if they did, they could easily assume it regarded one homework or the other.

"You okay there?"

Looking up, you recognised Angelina, and smiled at her.

"Hey," you muttered.

She offered you a sympathetic smile and sat down in front of you.

"What's up?" she whispered.

"Nothing, I..."

You let out another deep sigh. How silly of you to lie. Who would buy that you were doing just fine? Especially not someone like Angelina, who was one of your closer friends.

"I'm just nervous about tonight," you explained.

"So is everyone else, you know?" she reassured you. "But we're gonna have a great time, okay? We both got a cute date, we have our friends and we're gonna look smoking hot."

You reciprocated her smile, amused. It was true that Elian, the Durmstrang boy who had asked you out, was really good looking. You had gotten to interact with him quite a few times leading up to the ball, and there was no doubt he would also amuse and entertain you.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"No need."

And with that Angelina walked away.

Despite her comforting words, you could still feel your stomach tingle as the beginning of the ball approached. You tried your best to distract yourself with homework, with a walk on the school grounds, with some singing to yourself. None of it worked for very long however. You could not ignore the pit in your stomach, the best you could do was live with it.

About two hours before the ball were to begin, you went back to your common room. You did not hurry, calmly taking a shower, getting dressed and taking care of any other details, like perfume.

You finished early, but by the end of the entire process, you were the most relaxed you had been all day. The thought of crossing George at the Yule Ball still made your stomach tingle, but at least you felt confident and appeased.

When the time came, you left the common room in company of some classmates and made your way to the Great Hall.

As you walked down the stairs, you met Elian's gaze. His face lit up as he looked at you. He was pleasing to the eyes himself, dressed in one of the elegant red uniforms that all the students from Durmstrang seemed to be wearing.

Once you reached the last step, he presented his arm to you. You accepted without a second thought.

"You look beautiful," he praised.

You thanked him and returned the compliment.

"Fancy seeing you here, Y/N," a voiced piped up from behind you.

You turned to see Angelina, holding onto Fred's arm, walking over to the two of you.

After exchanging the expected compliments that would come with an evening such as this one, Angelina kindly asked you:

"How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," you admitted.

"Was something wrong?" Elian asked.

"Nothing to worry about," you told him. "I was just nervous about tonight, but I am not anymore."

He smiled at you and you mirrored him.

At that moment, you were called to enter the Great Hall, as the champions were about to open the ball. Angelina and Fred led the way, followed closely by you and Elian.

You heard Angelina ask Fred: "Where is your brother?"

"He is with his date, we'll meet them back inside."

The mention of George with his date made your throat tighten, but you quickly gulped to get rid of the feeling.

The champions had opened the ball, elegantly waltzing in the middle of the crowd. Soon enough, they were joined by various teachers and students.

"May I have this dance?" Elian asked, extending his arm out for you once more.

You did not hesitate.

He turned out to be quite the dance partner too, leading you gracefully on the dancefloor.

You smiled. Genuinely. You were having an amazing time.

When the music came to an end, Elian surprised you by placing a kiss on your hand before escorting you off the dancefloor.

You exchanged a few drinks with friends, chatting eagerly about their outfits, the decorations, the music.

Suddenly, a guitar riff resonated throughout the Great Hall. It seemed the rumors had been true. Dumbledore had indeed booked the Weird Sisters for the Yule Ball.

Everyone rushed back in front of the stage. You jumped and danced and shouted. You were spending a way better evening than you had anticipated.

But as all good things, it passed by too quickly. Soon enough, the band was interpreting their final song for the night: a slow.

"May I have one last dance?" Elian had asked cheekily.

He had been an amazing partner throughout the entire evening, making you laugh and dancing with you plenty. How could you say no to his demand?

You put one hand on his shoulder, he put one on your waist, your free hands against each other. Slowly, you started swaying side to side.

"Did you have a good evening?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied. "Did you you?"

"It was wonderful." He paused. "Would you like for us to keep seeing each other?"

You frowned: "In what sense?"

"Would you like to go on a date with me some time?"

He was straightforward to say the least.

"I'm sorry." You let out a sad chuckle. "I don't think I'm ready to date anyone at the moment."

"No need to apologise," he reassured. "Being your friend is plenty enough."

You thanked him with a smile.

He spinned you around.

Your gaze got lost in the decor around you. The white shades of the Great Hall, the magical snow, the clear night sky ceiling.

That is when you met his gaze.

Time slowed down.

It stopped entirely.

You felt every distinct beat of your heart.

And then none.

He was slow dancing with this beautiful girl. Oh, how you envied her. How you wished to be in her shoes. How you wished to be in his arms.

Gulping, you faced Elian again.

Quickly realising your trouble, he wondered: "Y/N, are you okay?"

Instead of answering, you peaked back towards George. He was also looking at you, offering a kind smile.

Then he turned back to his own date.

If he only knew what that smile did to you.

Having understood the situation by that point, your partner offered to lead you back to your common room before the end of the song.

You accepted and thanked him, holding onto his arm as you exited the Great Hall. You vaguely felt eyes following you but did not care to pay attention to them.

You had seen the way that George looked at that girl, the way he smiled at her, the way he held her.

All you kept thinking back about was the moment your eyes met for the first time that day. For the first time in days.

How it had hurt. But how you had missed it.

George Weasley had always been able to make you feel some type of way. He always brought out the best and worst in you. He made you laugh the loudest and cry the hardest. And all of that, he did without even intending it.

Despite not trying to be too pessimistic, you wondered if there was anyone else like him in the world. And if that person may love you one day.

A/N: I know we don't see much of George in this part, but I am thinking about making this into a short series. I just had the Yule Ball scene planned out before starting to write and I loved it so much I did not want to change it. I can, however, still decide what happens to the characters next ;) Please, let me know if you would be interested. Thank you for reading until the end! Hoping to see you for the next chapter! And check my suggestions/request guidelines if you're interested in requesting anything from me/giving me ideas.

[yumpty-dumpty-inactive]

liar ♡

---

characters included: kazuha ♡

---

warnings: pregnant! female-bodied! reader, angst, abandonment, crying, sadness

---

pronouns: female-bodied reader, but no her or she pronouns <3

---

"kazuha, are you alright?" "hm...? o-oh, yes. i'm fine, love"

he can't shake it. for weeks, this one feeling just hasn't gone away. he feels there needs to be a layer of caution placed upon himself in your presence, a feeling he's never felt, ever. he doesn't yet possess the knowledge as to why this churning in his gut continues to happen, but time will tell, I suppose.

"kazuha, do you, want children? one day, I mean."

the question was harmless and innocent, and at this point, only natural. the two of you had been an item for five years at this point, and were now in your mid 20's. you had recently stumbled upon old friends of yours, who had given birth to their first child. the one thing that startled kazuha, however, was your look. the expression of admiration and envy you wore when watching that child explained everything for itself. he knew, now, what it was you wanted.

"good question, but i'm not sure. I haven't given it any thought."

liar. he had given it thought. much thought. for the past week, that exact thought kept him awake for hours, as he tossed and turned, trying to avoid the thoughts that invaded his mind.

"oh..."

---

he knew it. he knew it the minute you ran up to him, a bright smile engulfing your charming face. the moment you told him you were pregnant, his world crumbled. a family? he'd never had one, and suddenly he had his own? it made no sense.

"you're...pregnant?"

your smile faded.

"y-yes? is there something wrong with that?"

"no, not at all. this is...wonderful news."

"I know right? we're going to be a family!"

"yes, yes we are"

that night, everything seemed darker. the shadows seemed larger, the bed seemed colder, and his mind only ran faster. enough was to be had, and kazuha rose from your shared bed, slipping into his regular attire. slipping out of the bedroom, he grabbed his anemo vision, the glowing orb resting in its case. hand on the doorknob, he sighed, about to head out when he heard your sleepy voice,

"kazuha? where are you going...?"

the sleepy and innocent look in your eyes crushed him, your pure mind completely unaware of what he was about to do.

"just for a walk, love. I'll be back soon"

liar.

"oh, would you like me to come with you?"

liar.

"no...I'll be alright."

liar.

"oh, okay..."

liar.

he watched your form disappear into the darkness, hearing the distant sound of the bed creak, signaling your return to it. he almost felt sorry for you, sorry that he had to abandon you like this. opening the door, he left, not to return.

---

"it's cold..."

that was your first thought. you opened your eyes, only to see his side of the bed empty. the sheets were cold, the warm body of your lover missing. rising from your bed, you searched the whole house, but he was nowhere to be found.

---

it was three weeks later when you received a letter, addressed to you. you opened the intricate envelope, reading the letter:

my dearest (Y/N),

hello, I'm aware that we've not spoken in a while. if you're wondering where I am, which knowing you, you probably are, I shall tell you. I'm away. away on a trip. one I will never return from.

"what?"

I'm sorry I've abandoned you like this, and I know it must hurt. I cannot bear to watch you suffer, but for a family, I am not ready. the chained love that once bound us, I'm afraid is gone. it has faded, and I'm afraid it will not return. like waves on the sea, my mind can change in an instant. I'm sorry it's changed now, of all times.

tears began to spill.

I love you, but not nearly as much as I once did. it's not fair to tie you down in a way such as this, so (Y/N), I'm setting you free.

you sobbed.

you are indeed the last of your kind as I've always told you, and I hope you find someone who realizes that and embraces it, unlike me. before I fully set you free, there is something I want you to know.

when you decide to move on, please, don't let these painful memories blind you. as far as our child goes, please don't reject them. it's not their fault I've left, it's mine. don't let the past remind you of me, let it remind you of better memories.

farewell, (Y/N)

kazuha

you ran. you ran as fast as you could, away. away from everything. from kazuha, from your child, from your house, everything.

you found yourself at the alcor, sprinting desperately below deck into the captain's cabin. slamming the door open, you collapsed, letter in hand, panting desperately. the captain's eyes widened, scooping you up, calling for help while studying your letter.

---

he had watched. he had watched from afar as you opened the letter, breaking down in a state of shock and despair. it hurt him, yes. but he was a liar. he couldn't help it. he was running away. running away out of fear, something he had always done. he was clawing his way out of his pit of despair, only to lose balance and fall into the abyss once again. he told you he'd always be with you, he told you he'd never leave you, but then again,

he was a liar.

[f4nd0m-fun]

I'd like to promote my Loki-Batman AU in which the kids are technically demigods through adoption but they won't know until they or Bruce either die or awaken their godly selves. That or they're reincarnations of Loki's Kids. I feel like they'd have some minor abilities but I need I find where I wrote out who correlates to who... I remember some but not all. Also blurb about the reblog definitely being almost right.

For Bruce, he's mostly just subconsciously changing his face details and some other minor stuff whenever someone tries to unmask him. Once he awakens, that includes some memories, but he'll still need time to train his abilities, from magic to shapeshifting and manipulation skills. Also, I'm laughing at the idea he goes full recluse as Bruce for a bit because he can't get his shapeshifting under control.

Dick of course is Jormungdr (I can't spell). So he probably has a Naga form once he awakens, but a full snake form might not be a good idea, I dunno (be hilarious if Damien is all 'Batsnake!' because he doesn't realize it's Dick until he changes back). Anyway, this just makes his flexibility that much better/worse, and his Naga form moves surprisingly quickly. Also, more of him to hug others, he's gonna love that.

I think Jason would greatly correlate to Hela but I'm not entirely sure on the direction. On one hand, just imagine him scaring the piss out of magical creatures by not only summoning the allblades but also his appearance being half skeletal at that point. And, if the creech is pissing him off enough, he might summon a few of the dead, since post-death knows his truth. Also, Trans!Jason my beloved. Either he has a lil bit of shapeshifting from Bruce/Loki or the Lazarus pits acted like magical HRT. But also might be interesting if he's using glamours instead, with the idea that he's always looked malnourished/skeletal no matter how much he ate, it was just worse before he was taken in by Bruce, because of his tie to Hela.

Tim I keep imagining as Sleipnier (again I can't spell). So just imagine a coffee fueled superspeed centaur Red Robin running on two hours of sleep with 70 awake, a Red Hood with his glamour gone and a large snake/naga Nightwing on his shoulders (none of them have slept in at least two days, and Bruce is trying to corral them, but considering Red Robin already has some kind of minor superspeed even before caffeine... he should probably wait until they crash, either into a wall or just fall asleep). Anyway, goons are just gonna quit if they see that.

But, despite the chaos, the Batfam still tries to pretend to be absolutely human, at minimum around the Watchtower (Diana knows, she was there when Bruce awakened his godhood, they can bond over that stuff).

I'm still trying to figure out if Alfred is mythological in any way but all I can think of is Heimdall or Freya or Frigga, but I think it'd be funny if he's fully human (aside from a minor bout of immortality) and yet he's the one corralling most of the insanity.

Anyway, since Norse Mythology isn't prevalent in DC (I say the Greeks and Romans are allowed their fun as long as they mostly avoid Marvel) Loki isn't well known so they aren't seen as demigods/deities by the populous.

Bruce is ever changing so he's considered more a personification of The People in a sense, due to the fact he never has the same face when unmasked.

Dick tends to be seen as a personification of Hope but also Despair, with the snake stuff being seen as 'a cycle of despair and hope' and 'shedding what once was'

Jason I'm not entirely sure, maybe vengeance or something, maybe more justice, or maybe something like Heart? I'm not sure.

Tim is is bit harder to place but I suppose he might kinda be 'The Right Time' or something else weirdly specific, somewhat due to the fact he arrived right when Batman started calming down, and also the fact that when he returned as his new self that's when Batman returned as well, and don't get started on how he seems to keep getting faster and faster, as if to always try and be on time.

Feel free to rewrite my ideas on the personifications.

Gothamites knowing that Red Hood is actually the dead Robin brought back to life really isn’t helping the cryptid/eldritch Batfamily rumors. Just saying.

[targaryenimagines]

Just Wait

Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,989

Summary:

Notes: I hope this is all right. 

Dialogue Prompt:  “Try and stay calm, okay? Help is coming.”

The wind was howling through the air. Snow whipping past your face and obscuring your view. All that you could see were the elegant spikes of Rhaegal’s neck. The pebbled scales being the only comfort to your numbing hands. You wince as the winds howls were intersected by the wails of the damned. Glowing blue eyes appearing before your eyes as you blinked. 

Glancing down, you could see nothing but the unending swirl of white in the pitch blackness. 

How many of your friends had already perished below you? 

How many would you never see again? 

How many would you never be able to properly bury?

The questions only cause the growing pit in your stomach to become that much larger. Your hands clench around Rhaegal’s spike. Trying your best to keep your breath steady as he took another sharp turn. Your body pressing against his neck in order to stay upright. Squinting doing little to alleviate the temporary blindness the action caused. 

Craning your neck, you look up in hopes that the moon would be able to guide you to where you needed to be. You were only met by even more suffocating darkness-- even the clouds having lost their glow. Curses fall from your lips as you angle Rhaegal down into another dive. Getting too close to the ground could prove to be fatal but you had no choice; images of Viserion’s lifeless body falling from the sky comes unbidden to your mind at the thought. Your heart breaking all over again as you remember his pain-filled cry. How Rhaegal had echoed it as you both tried to desperately save him. Your gentle boy being swallowed by ice and snow; only to be awakened by the very thing that had cursed him. 

You hadn’t seen Viserion yet but you had heard his roars. The once gentle and calming sound turned ragged. A mournful howl for everything that was lost and that had to continue to be. In the same manner, you hadn’t seen Drogon or Daenerys since the battle had begun. Both you and Rhaegal taking to the outside defenses to make sure there wouldn’t be any stragglers. Even now you couldn’t hear the sounds of Drogon’s mighty roars or the cries of battle. 

You and Rhaegal were completely alone. In the ghost filled sky that promised nothing but despair when it used to offer nothing but freedom. 

That is until a sharp cry from above you caused every hair on your body to stand on end. Your head snapping up towards the sound, even as you made Rhaegal dive to the side, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight of seeing Viserion. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of seeing him so broken. His scales, once so vibrant, turned ashen and lifeless. 

His gentle face devoid of any emotion except for the mind-numbing coldness that seemed to be in constant supply in the North. 

Once golden eyes, that always reminded you of the sun, turned blue. Fire turning to ice. 

The only thing rivalling the horror you felt at seeing Viserion in such a state was seeing the thing that was riding him. The Night King’s cold eyes were watching your every movement as Rhaegal dipped lower and lower in the sky. Your attention diverted from his icy gaze towards Rhaegal as his wings narrowly escaped the tree tops. His body jolts as he tries to avoid the imminent collision. 

With your mouth pressed into a line, you force yourself to relax and remember everything you had learned over the years with Rhaegal. Every minute movement of his body and what that told you. Even if the Night King could control Viserion, he would never be able to fly like you could. You just had to get to Daenerys, to Drogon, and everything would be fine. 

Chancing one last glance towards him, you couldn’t help the sardonic smirk that pulled at your lips. “If you want me you’ll have to catch me you sick bastard.”

-----

In retrospect, taunting the Night King wasn’t the smartest plan. While you had the advantage of experience atop dragons. He held the advantage when it came being able to see where you were going. Which, in the grand scheme of things, was a very useful tool to have. 

As it wouldn’t be the first, or second, time you had almost slammed into something as you made your back towards Winterfell.

“How did we get so far out?” You hiss as you, yet again, dip Rhaegal into a dive to avoid Viserion’s talons. His disjointed shriek causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. You didn’t remember flying this far out from Winterfell but as each moment ticked by you could tell that you had somehow gotten turned around. We were only supposed to be a few minutes out at most. How did this happen?

Feeling the sudden breeze of air on your head, causes you to duck. Your head almost collided with Rhaegal’s neck as Viserion made another dive towards you. Feeling the slick feeling of liquid running down your neck, you raise your hand to the base of it. Letting loose a soft hiss as a sharp stab of pain is the response your body gives to the prodding. You know you didn’t have to look at your fingers to see that your glove was stained red. 

Catching sight of the beacon fires almost causes you to sob in relief. Your eyes welling up at the brilliant sight of light after spending so long in near darkness. The sounds of battle resounding out towards you like a choir. 

“Only a bit longer, Rhaegal,” you murmur against his neck. Feeling the way his breaths had gotten deeper. You don’t know how much longer he would be able to last if the pace continued like this. The constant bobbing and weaving through frozen air. Squeezing your eyes shut, you send a silent prayer to R’hllor to get you through this-- to get Rhaegal through this. “You’re doing so well. Just a bit longer and I promise you’ll be able to rest.”

Only a small snort was your response. The reaction caused a small smile to quirk your lips despite the situation you were in. His tenacious spirit hadn’t dimmed in the slightest even as his energy was so clearly waned. That’s my boy. 

Angling Rhaegal into a steep dive, you make your descent towards Winterfell. Your eyes desperately searching for Daenerys. Your breath catching when you finally caught sight of Drogon’s familiar form. His looming black shadow shifting over the battlefield as he and Daenerys dealt with the Wights. The Unsullied fight valiantly underneath their Khaleesi. You think you could even see Jorah shifting about with Jon Snow’s direwolf-- Ghost. 

Viserion’s sharp cry causes you to wince. Your head is already bowing as you twist Rhaegal into the opposite direction. Hoping that you would be able to be fast enough but you hadn’t reacted fast enough. Not as you felt Viserion slam into Rhaegal and press you down against his back. Your breath escaping you in a harsh exhale as Rhaegal tried desperately to free himself. His angry shrieks like daggers through your heart. 

Knowing that there was little else you could do; not when you and Rhaegal were so tired. You call for Daenerys-- hoping that your dragon would be able to get to you. Your eyes search for her violet as you begin your descent towards the snow covered ground. 

“Daenerys.”

------

“Daenerys.”

The sound of her name ripped through the air. Louder than any scream from the undead below her. Louder than any cry of the dying that would forever echo in her head. Louder than even Drogon was at his angriest. 

Her head snapping up in the direction the scream, no plea, had originated from. Her own beginning to form when she saw her mate and son in a spiral. She had known that Viserion was a slave of the Night King’s now but she had never truly prepared herself to see him. 

She had never thought it would be when he was clutching onto Rhaegal’s back. His talons like anchors against Rhaegal’s green hide. Rivulets of red already became obvious as her son struggled to break free. Struggled to protect his mother, his rider, from harm. She could even see your face from here. See the pain that was so clearly etched across your beautiful features. The blood that was becoming apparent through the stark white of your cloak. 

It was a sight that forced her into action. Nudging, Drogon in your direction as fast as he was able to go. Her heart hammering in her chest as Rhaegal let loose another cry of pain. As Viserion echoed it back with one of his own demented shrieks. Her two boys, that were closer than even she could comprehend, enemies because of the vileness that Westeros held. It brought tears to her eyes as Drogon finally got a hold of Viserion. His much larger form easily being able to overpower his brother. Claws ripping and tearing through brittle hide as he was tossed to the side. Little decorum being shown for what used to be his brother. 

Glancing down, Daenerys’s heart almost stops at the sight of Rhaegal’s still plummeting form. His wings weakly trying to keep him afloat but nothing would be able to stop his descent. She could see the wounds in his wings and the way his head was drooping which each second ticked by. Angling Drogon into a dive, Daenerys does everything she can to stop his descent. To stop him from hitting the ground but it was all in vain. 

Her widened gaze watching as Rhaegal was weakly able to run across the surface before crashing down completely. The form of his rider being thrown from his body into a heap on the icy landscape. 

Not thinking of much else, Daenerys jumps off of Drogon the moment his feet make contact with land. Her hand ran against Rhaegal’s neck in a quick search to make sure he was all right; relieved when she felt his heavy breathing through her glove. His steady warmth is still there despite everything.

With that task accomplished, she makes her way over towards the form of her mate. Her knees hitting the ground with preamble and she brought you into her arms. A worried gaze taking in every bruise and scrape that made up the expanse of your skin. Blood trickling down slowly from open wounds that didn’t look to be too deep. A relieved sob leaving her lips when she notices your breathing; while shallow it was something. 

Closing her eyes, Daenerys sends a silent thank you to whatever deity helped keep her mate and son safe. Her mouth pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she pulled you tighter into her embrace. Very much aware of Drogon’s presence wrapping around her. His protective stance warmed her heart.  

“Try and stay calm, okay?” She murmurs softly to herself as she pulls you tighter against her. Wanting to keep you as warm as she possibly could. “Help is coming.”

Glancing up, Daenerys could no longer see the various shadows of war against the landscape. Her heart thudding against her chest at what that could mean. Though none of it mattered if it meant that she lost you. 

Looking down, she presses another small kiss to your forehead and smiles despite the tears in her eyes. “I love you. If you hold on a bit longer I promise I will never leave your side again.” She nuzzles into your neck; needing to be surrounded by your scent. “You’ll be stuck with me. Just wait for help to come.”

Unbeknownst to Daenerys the slightest of smiles curled your lips at her words. You could never imagine not waiting for your dragon. 

[godlizzza]

can you do "I can't let that happen again" for danbert? Thank you :)

"We need the buddy system," Dan insisted. "It's the only way to stay safe down here."

Herbert just glared at him through a bubbling test tube, the glass warping Dan's cross expression into something cartoonish. He'd been trying his best to ignore him and focus but Dan seemed adamant to have this conversation.

"I've done plenty of work by myself," Herbert said, securing the tube in a clamp. "As much as it pleases me that you're taking an extra interest in our experiments, let me assure you I'm perfectly fine on my own."

Dan gave an aggravated sigh and ran his hands through hair. "How many times do you have to get hurt before you realise you're not safe when you're alone?"

"Every job has occupational hazards," Herbert replied easily. "I know what they are. It doesn't bother me."

"But it bothers me!" Dan burst out.

Herbert jumped in his seat as Dan marched around the work table and grabbed his shoulders. The fierce burning in his eyes made Herbert lean back, his heart suddenly kicking against his ribs.

"Do you know how much I worry about you?" Dan demanded, his voice coming out ragged and desperate. "When I'm at work and you're here, all I can think about is if you're okay, or if you're lying on the floor, bleeding out. I have no idea and it...it tears me up." He ripped his gaze away from Herbert's and bowed his head, as though the weight of everything he'd just said had caught up with him, snuffing out that fierce passion. "I've already thought I lost you twice. And I just- I can't let that happen again."

Herbert blinked at this sudden display of brittleness. He'd always known Dan to easily give way to emotion, his constitution swaying in the breeze of others' suffering. But to see him tired and shaking like this out of concern for him was disturbing in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

With Dan's hands still clamped on his shoulders he tentatively reached out and squeezed his arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Dan instantly crumbled at the touch, falling into Herbert and wrapping him up in his arms. Herbert gasped at the pressure of their bodies crushed together as Dan buried his face in the crook of Herbert's neck. Herbert slowly returned the embrace, stroking small circles into Dan's back.

"You don't need to be afraid," Herbert said, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears.

"Yes, I do," Dan fired back, his words muffled against Herbert's collar. "You have no sense of self-preservation. One of us has to be afraid."

Herbert looked at the man in his arms and sighed. "I'll consider it."

Dan pulled his face back but kept his arms locked around Herbert. He blinked as though trying to shake off a mist clouding his eyes.

"What?"

"The buddy system," Herbert said begrudgingly. "I'll consider it."

Dan's answer was a watery smile. The sight dislodged something in Herbert's chest, letting it fall, clunking against his insides before landing in the pit of his stomach. He released his hold on Dan and scooted back in his chair, trying to quell the heat flooding his veins. He turned back to the work table and coughed into his fist, avoiding Dan's gaze.

"Now, if that's all, you can either leave or put some gloves on and join me," he said gruffly, busying himself by fiddling with some beakers.

Dan let out a soft breath beside him then walked away. For a moment Herbert expected to hear his footfalls on the stairs but then he reappeared, tying an apron around his waist. Herbert watched him slip on a pair of latex gloves, and when Dan faced him, his eyes still looked tired but not so despairing.

"Okay," Dan simply said. "What're we doing today?"

[more-than-a-princess]

Sonia hiccuped, then groaned. The idea of facing anyone, much less Gundham, seemed to be an impossible task: almost as impossible as avoiding the churning feeling she was now experiencing in the pit of her stomach. It hurt, but then again, so much already did: it was simply another addition to a never-ending list of why she should've been kept in the Neo-World Program. Murders of her closest friends aside orchestrated by a horrible bear, it was somehow better than reality. If only her virtual self could have known before she'd agreed to press the giant red button and graduate.

"Too late," She muttered, referring to Yaguchi's overstaying her welcome. Alongside with removal of virtual deaths, the transition from the Neo-World Program to reality also had removed her personality pre-Tragedy: when everything that defined her, past, present, and future, was bright and beautiful. From fair, glowing skin to an equally sunny disposition. That, alongside a good amount of the world's population, had died during Junko's reign of despair.

But the woman had several centimeters on her, plenty of more kilograms of solid muscle, and was likely sober: even if Sonia had been allowed a firearm, she'd likely lose. "Fine, c'mon in," She conceded, stepping out of the doorway and back into the dirty, cramped cabin. It wasn't as if Agent Yaguchi would get very far: not with all the Novosonian knick-knacks, empty and broken bottles, and piles of clothes anyway. Sonia wasn't in a frame of mind to ask her to make herself comfortable, though Jabberwock Island didn't really lend itself to comfort in the first place. But expletives, those were a bit more common.

"Fucking hell!" Sonia screamed as she stepped down with her left foot. She'd barely noticed half an azuki bean paste bun that was surely stale on her floor, blood was not likely to be accounted for. Unless, of course, it was fresh and streaming out from between her toes. Hopping on her right foot, tears formed at the corners of Sonia's eyes before she soon lost balance, falling down onto hands and knees. Thankfully, she'd done so towards the bathroom, away from the rest of the broken glass and china. Though that did little to help the shard currently embedded in her foot, deep enough that she'd likely need stitches and a tetanus shot. Alongside an IV for quick hydration and electrolytes: she barely remembered the last time she'd drunk water. "Huuuurts...hurts so muuuch...oh SHIT-"

Agent Yaguchi was now the furthest thing from her mind. If Sonia didn't need Mikan's help before, she surely did now: from the activity to the sharp increase in pain, her churning stomach was not about to settle anytime soon. No, instead it took the last of Sonia's strength and focus to crawl towards the bathroom, grasp the toilet, and begin vomiting up the majority of the contents of her stomach plus added bile. An abundance of alcohol and some partially-digested snacks, Sonia didn't stop until both her stomach and esophagus alike burned and she was in dire need of a toothbrush and paste. And a shower: smell and old clothes aside, she'd let some of her hair fall into the toilet and it had been caught in the crossfire. The sight of it, alongside the searing pain from the fresh cut, was enough to make Sonia begin to sob, turning away from the toilet to prop herself against the wall. The best she could, blood stains and all.

"Yag-cchi," She whimpered, bits of vomit still clinging to the corners of her mouth as she wrapped her arms around her middle in an attempt to make herself small. A soothing technique she used to do when her parents' fighting could be heard through much of Novoselic Castle and all she wanted to do was pretend she was anywhere but there and that she was anything but the princess she was. "I think I'm gon' be sick...."

Babbling through her pain and delirium, it hadn't caught up with her that she'd already had, and had been ill for a long time. But when everyone else was as mentally and emotionally injured as she was, it wasn't as if she could lean on them too much for assistance and comfort. They were all trapped in their own personal hells: the only difference for Sonia was that the one person she'd relied upon to make it worthwhile, the one person she needed to survive it, had declined to remain by her side.

It had been about a month since Tanaka had woken up. Miss Pekoyama had already been awake, albeit in a state of slow recovery, when Shinobu had first arrived on the island, so she hadn't known exactly what to expect from the situation. Certainly, the remnants were busier than even they had been before, with helping catch Tanaka up on things, and make sure he was in a position to regain his strength and take on some responsibilities. Again, it seemed that Hinata made a number of the decisions for the others, and Shinobu caught herself wondering just who, exactly he was.

Beyond that, though, the days had blurred together. Whether it was the justifiable lack of trust in someone who wore Future Foundation colors, or Shinobu's own inability to connect with other people, they hadn't had a great amount of personal interactions with the remnants. When Souda needed an extra pair of hands to lift or carry something, she was there, and when Hanamura needed someone to wash dishes or set a table, she was there. Once Miss Pekoyama had moved out of it, Shinobu had spent a bit of extra time at the hospital - both to have Miss Tsumiki look her over, and also to clean things up when necessary to ensure that everyone had a tidy, organized space to recover in.

Avoiding Sonia hadn't been an active choice, but neither had it been especially difficult. She wanted time with Tanaka, naturally, and Shinobu had no desire to impede that, or cause trouble for either of them. That said, the general solitude wasn't especially beneficial to their own mental health. They'd drawn so many animals that their pens had run dry, and a new shipment wouldn't come until the following week. Some of her old strength was slowly being built back up, but she was still considered an at-risk agent, and thus barred from the Future Foundation on-site barracks where she could have found a bow to train with. It was isolating, lonely even, as the first crop of Future Foundation coworkers had loaded onto one of the boats bound back for Japan, with only Shinobu staying behind.

Now, with Tanaka out and about, but Sonia nowhere to be found, Shinobu found herself worried. It was an imposition, of course, to worry about someone who didn't wish to be worried about, but there was nothing Shinobu could do about it. The other remnants, seemingly, weren't concerned, but neither could the archer bring themselves to ask any of them about her. Instead, she found herself on Sonia's porch after a long day of work, Future Foundation bag still slung over her back, taking note of the cart at the cabin's side and the collection of boxes seemingly dumped out the window, strewn about without any organization for disposal.

She looked like a mess. Even from what Shinobu's sharp eyes could glean from the cracked doorframe, things seemed in disarray, and Sonia herself looked awful. There was an odor, as well, pungent and unpleasant, made up of a mix of things - none of them good - that Shinobu couldn't immediately place. "I regret the intrusion, Miss Nevermind," she said in a soft voice as she gently pushed open the door. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important, I promise." A twinge of anger, the frigid fire that had once been the hallmark of the cold prince, sparked inside of them. Of course the other remnants were busy, but did they really think it was appropriate to leave Sonia alone like this?

The shattered glass on the floor, the things tipped over, the stench growing even more powerful... "Familiar, huh, Shinobu-chan?" Anzu seemed to be deeply amused by it all. "Although, your father would have broken every bone in your hand if you'd shattered glass on that tatami. I guess princesses just get away with more, huh?" That's right. The specifics were different, the broken glass, the alcohol, but Shinobu couldn't help but remember her room back at the Yaguchi Estate. Dirty clothing piled in a heap, framed photographs turned down on the bookshelves, circles of black beneath her eyes, bruises and blood on her forearms from dangerous shooting. All from losing the person she'd loved.

Tanaka. It was obvious. He hadn't wanted what she'd wanted, or he'd been unwilling to commit to her, or any number of other reasons. No matter what the specifics, it was clear to Shinobu - that Sonia had hoped for something that hadn't come to pass, and even as Anzu jeered and delighted in her suffering, Shinobu wished, desperately, that it was acceptable for her to give Sonia a hug. Heartbreak was such miserable pain, especially when it left one feeling entirely alone.

"I just came by to check on you." It was pointless to ask if she was okay when the answer was clearly no. "I'll try not to overstay my welcome." Even if she wasn't welcome at all. There was a broom buried in some of the piles, and though Shinobu couldn't immediately see a dustpan, if she could get some of the mess out onto the porch, she could come by and deal with it later. Actually, it wouldn't be a bad idea to speak to Miss Tsumiki and see if she could make time to drop by, as well. Sonia's tolerance was hardly in question, but surely this was detrimental enough to her health to warrant a second opinion.

Looking down as they were, taking stock of what they could easily clean, it was impossible to miss the bits of blood and the fact that Sonia was walking around without shoes, or even socks. "Miss Nevermind, I think you've stepped in broken glass. Would you please allow me to take a look, and clean some things up for you?" Her backpack had first aid supplies, among other things, and she knew enough about field medicine to help. "I know you want to be alone, and if you wanted someone here, it would be a friend and not a Future Foundation lackey. I regret that it's me."

But, it couldn't be helped, especially not if everyone else seemed content to leave Sonia to her own devices when she was clearly in distress. "If you truly hate it, I'll leave, and arrange for Miss Tsumiki to come assist you." They were near-strangers, after all. It was reasonable for Sonia to want little to do with her. "But if it isn't so loathsome as that, I'd like to help you. If you'll allow it, Miss Nevermind." Please, she thought to herself. Please let me take care of you, if only for a short while.

[taones]

If You Can Hold On - Part 2

Pairing: Poly!Asahi, Daichi + Suga x gender neutral!reader

Notes: lowkey have a mention of Yachi x Kiyoko in this ayyyy and the reader reflecting my thoughts about rain whoop 

Warnings: pining, angst, requited-unrequited love cause we love some dramatic irony, this whole series is hurt/comfort

Find part one here

Soft murmurs woke you from your rough sleep. After hearing them talk about adding another person to their relationship, it was kind of hard to have a good rest. The car had stopped. You four were now parked in a motel car park, bathed in the signs' soft red light. 

“I went in but they only have one room, so all four of us will have to share” 

The disappointed tone to Daichi’s statement felt like an arrow through your heart. You guys were best friends, you shared beds all the time. Why would that matter now? Ever since you had known them you had been comfortable sharing beds etc, even after they started dating. The fact it was different now made you think back to their earlier conversation about a new partner. Did this person not like you? Maybe that was why they weren’t as close with you. The shuffling of your tallest friend pulled your attention once again. They were getting out of the car.

Once again, you pretended to be asleep. There was now ay you were ready to face them without crying and you really didn’t want Asahi to ask for his hoodie back. You were scared it would be the last part of him you had for a long time. The sharp twinge of panic shot through your stomach at the thought of it. There was always a chance that their new partner would like you but not as many people would be as comfortable with their s/o being as close to their friend as those three were. 

“It’s okay” you heard Asahi whisper, “I’ll carry them”

You stirred at that. If he touched you, you were certain you would cry. S it was a perfect time to break your facade. The soft glimmer of tears in your eyes was hidden by the scarlet light shining on your face, something you were thankful for. Cold, wet gravel seeped through the mesh of your shoes but it was okay as long as you were going to be in the room soon, able to be away from the constant reminder the boys gave you. In your ‘sleepy’ state, you pulled your bags out of the car and grabbed the keys from Daichi’s hand. In your haste to walk away, you missed the look of despair on Asahi’s face and the way his shorter boyfriend held his hand to his chest as if you had burnt it with your hasty touch.

The room itself was painted a bright yellow, something you assumed would be more bright if you weren’t feeling so dull yourself. There was a queen size bed in the centre of the room and a sofa off to the side. It was as if the red of the sofa cushions was mocking you with its garish colour, reminding you that you would never actually be with the other three. You scoffed and layed your things on the sofa before pulling out some pyjama shorts and one of Koushi’s t-shirts that you had borrowed. Just as the boys came in, you disappeared into the tiny bathroom to get changed. 

Thinking you had escaped, you sighed and leant against the door. Only to hear the voices of the three men loud and clear. 

“I wonder what’s wrong with y/n” Koushi asked, seemingly dismissive

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon, they don’t hide anything from us” the comforting voice of Sawamura responded

If only they knew just how much you hid from them. If only they knew that even being around them right now was literally breaking your heart. 

“Wait look what I took the other day Suga, it’ll cheer you up”

You heard Azumane pull out his phone and then a sound of awe from the grey haired man.

“I wish we could ask them to join us sooner but we have to wait till we’re back huh?” Suga lamented, “wish this trip could be over already” 

Ouch, that one hurt.

So he was showing them a picture of this mystery person. You really didn’t understand why they hadn’t told you yet. It only made the feeling of dread in you grow, expanding into a pit that sucked in all of your other emotions. If they really wanted this to be over then you may as well just leave them now. Let them leave you behind and pursue this person that you’ll never be.

A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking in the mirror, you noticed tears you didn’t realise had fallen. You managed to hastily rub the evidence of your face and leave the yellow lit room in time for it to not seem too suspicious. You grabbed the blanket that had been laid over the sofa and walked out the door. 

“I’ll be right back, just have to do something” you muttered, avoiding eye contact “don’t wait up for me” 

Cold gravel crunched against your shoes once again and air pricked at your exposed legs. The pool. It was dimly lit but hadn’t been covered so you assumed it was okay for you to sit in. The water was a clear blue and slightly warmed from the earlier sunshine. Perfect for you to stick your legs in. Water and night had always managed to calm you down and stop your thoughts racing. While this was no rain storm, it was good enough for you to swish your cold limbs in and make the calming sounds you liked so much. 

Your reflection stared back at you from the water. There was no hiding the mess you were in, hair dishevelled and an old blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It was no wonder they didn’t want you. The soft ringtone you recognised as Kiyoko’s wrenched you back to reality.

“Hello?” you sniffed down the phone

Kiyoko was another best friend of yours but one you were fortunately not in love with. She and Yachi had been on holiday when you had left but it was clear the couple was now back. Shimizu was the only person that knew about your feelings.

“How are you holding up y/n” her soft voice rang in your ears

“Not well” you admitted, “It’s like they’re doing it on purpose Shimizu”

She hummed, never one for too many words

“They want to add another person to their relationship but they made sure i was sleeping when they talked about it. I don’t know why but it hurts Kiyoko. I know it’s selfish but it hurts so bad, I don’t know how much longer I can take this trip”

Something inside you broke down. It had been a while since you had been able to get this off your chest and it was like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. Tears rolled down your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time this trip.

“Do you need us to come pick you up y/n?” the woman's voice asked, concern clear

“I really don't know” you admitted with defeat, “I’ll see how it goes but I hate this so much”

The conversation ended rather quickly after that. It was late for you both after all and it had started raining so you had to put your phone in your bag to prevent it from getting wet. What you didn’t notice was the flash of cropped brunette hair disappearing behind your room door.

Cold rain hit your skin. It was refreshing, a break from what you were feeling. Rain was simple. Rain didn’t have feelings, didn’t have thoughts. It was just nice, cool rain and you revelled in it’s simplistic beauty. With closed eyes, you laid on the pool tile and let the droplets hit your face. Even as it got colder and heavier, it was nothing compared to what you felt on the inside and this was something you were thankful for. The silence was comforting and you let your mind slip into nothing but the rain.

Suga came out to check on you after half an hour, worried about the rain. When he saw you laying next to the pool, covered in a layer of wetness and your face cold, he felt a cold wash of fear come over him. The soft rise and fall of your chest reassured him but he knew he would have to get you inside. Asahi came to stand next to his shorter partner, resting his chin on his shoulder sleepily. 

“I wish I knew what was going on in their head sometimes” the grey haired man whispered, “I wish I knew how to save them”

His counterpart hummed and moved to pick your sleeping figure from the ground. You were cold to the touch and your face lacked the despair that had been plaguing it for the whole trip. He felt a flower of guilt grow in the pit of his stomach at the thought the rain had made you happier then they ever could. 

“C’mon” called Daichi from the doorway, “They’re gonna catch their death we need to get them some clothes”

You limp hand came up to grasp at the fabric, not wanting to let go of the comforting presence even in sleep. Three melancholy smiles were sent your way, not that you would ever know. They knew you hated smiles of pity, even if that’s the only ones you really seemed to get from them anymore.

@bewwybun @xeina @mage-moon @naimalove143 @bisasterrr @aristatrois​ @hamiltrash1411​ @tazzi-baby​ @adreamoflonelyaddiction​ 

Hope you guys enjoy, sorry it took so long and sorry about any typos it’s been a long week

[penwieldingdreamer]

Dante's Prayer - A Peaky Blinders Story

It's been a while since I wrote anything regarding the fandoms I used to be active, but thanks to @fortheloveoffanfic I found another one that picked my interest. This is the first part of my Peaky Blinders story, let me know what you think. Like, reblog, comment if you want and let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

Summary:

When the dark wood fell before me And all the paths were overgrown, When the priests of pride say there is no other way I tilled the sorrows of stone.

I did not believe because I could not see Though you came to me in the night, When the dawn seemed forever lost You showed me your love in the light of the stars

- Dante's Prayer by Loreena McKennitt -

Warnings: Mentions of war, mentions of sex, period-typical sexism, canon-typical violence

Words: 1410

Prologue

Outside of Birmingham, 1923

Breathless pants were the only sounds echoing in the silence of the small cottage.

"I missed ya so fookin' much." he mumbled against her back as they tried to catch their breaths and Arthur pulled the sheets over their naked bodies.

Niamh smiled at the sensation of his beard lightly scratching her skin, committing it to memory before he'd leave her again. "It's not my fault, you've been avoiding me."

"I know, I'm sorry." he sighed, running his fingers along the skin of her shoulder and neck. "I'm going to marry Linda."

Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, the redhead blinked away the tears that were gathering in her eyes, thankful for facing away from the eldest Shelby brother. "I believe this means goodbye then?"

"It doesn't have to be goodbye." Arthur breathed, his lips languidly moving along her spine. "We ain't serious."

Turning her head towards him, Niamh shook her head. "We can't continue this, it was good while it lasted."

"Why not?" he asked, leaning onto his elbow to watch her closely. He had known her since before the war, occasionally having had a tryst under the bridge by the Cut and when he had been drafted he spent three days until his leaving with her, promising to return as the same man that he left but he couldn't keep that promise, just like he never could promise her his heart.

"I'm scared, Arthur." she finally said after a while, her voice vibrating in the quiet air.

Brushing his hair out of his face, he moved his hand closer to her face, his roughened fingers stroking along the column of her throat. "What are you scared of?"

Biting her lip, Niamh put her smaller hand on his own. "Of falling for you, like I'm trying to avoid ever since you have gotten back. You're marrying her and if we continue, you'll only break my heart." Her eyes turned red from the unshed tears she kept at bay the entire time.

"I never promised ye love." Arthur replied gruffly, sitting up on the bed. "I best be going, or else you'd be throwing your heart at me feet."

Pulling the sheets up to her neck, Niamh wordlessly watched him get dressed, feeling the sting of heartbreak in her chest when there had been no love on both ends. Once he had haphazardly thrown on his pants and dress shirt, leaving the vest and suspenders off, Arthur turned one last time, burning the image of his favorite redhead into his mind's eye. Never would he forget the faces she made when he had given her the ecstasy she longed for, knowing he'd not be able to see the same expressions with his soon-to-be-wife.

One last time she watched him nod in goodbye, knowing his head couldn't be turned. The eldest Shelby would have only committed, if - and that was a very big IF - she had been with his child, but Niamh knew how to avoid it as well as he did. Nights in the war could be very cold and lonely so the army had handed out precautions for the soldiers to enjoy their time between the fights. Arthur had told her often enough how his dreams of family and romance had been snuffed out by the brutality of the war, that he would avoid the subject as best as he could, yet here he left her stranded in her cottage by the lake they used to swim in as teenagers, to have a wife and family, probably children along the way.

Arthur climbed inside Tommy's car, taking a deep breath before he screamed out the despair and grief that had been eating away at him ever since he returned from France. Niamh had been a distraction and Linda had given him the hope to get his dreams back, so why did he feel the same sense of loss he had felt when their father had betrayed him and left them again? The noose around his neck was back, tighter than before.

"FUCK!" He hit the steering wheel with such force, that it rattled the whole construction. Arthur needed to let go, he would marry Linda in three weeks and start a new part of his life with her.

“I, Arthur, take thee, Linda, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

“I, Linda, take thee, Arthur, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

The eldest Shelby brother gently took her hand and slipped the golden band onto her left ring finger, repeating after the priest. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Linda smiled up at him, her eyes so full of love and shining with happiness that he couldn't help but get infected by her. Returning her smile, Arthur leaned in and gently laid his lips on hers. His brothers cheered, albeit forcing themselves to be happy for him and his new wife. She had brought faith back into his life and would help him achieve his dreams of family and fortune.

When he looked up, at the end of the aisle Arthur thought he saw a flash of red before it disappeared again.

Had she come to witness his wedding? Maybe trying to stop it all together?

But no, he had told her goodbye, told her she wasn't the one for him because unlike Linda, Niamh hadn't changed his way. Hadn't made him see the light in this darkness again. At least that was, what he was trying to tell himself, because buried deep down in the pit of his heart there was a small fire burning for the redhead, that would never be put out, no matter how much water he'd use to kill the flames.

"Come on brother, let's celebrate your union." John called, pulling both Linda and him into a tight hug before he joined his wife Esme and their children on the way to the Garrison where Tommy had prepared the reception. At first Linda had protested, having wanted a proper banquet but she was soon overruled when Arthur told her it was easier that way. She'd have to learn that arguing with his brother or even Aunt Polly was never a good way to live in the Shalby family, it would be more peaceful to just concede and try to be happy about it.

"Come on now, luv, let's get some refreshments before we consummate our wedding and really make it official, ey." the eldest Shelby grinned at his wife, leaning down to swiftly brush her lips with his own, before he grabbed her waist and pulled her along to the pub.

Niamh had been planning to avoid the ceremony, knowing that only heartache would follow but she needed to be there to hear his vows and see his actions. Only then could she try to forget Arthur Shalby and move on, just like he did. No thought had been spared for her when he had repeated the words, giving his ring to her and promising a new life.

During the wedding she had wanted to stop them so many times, but when the final words of their vows had been spoken, she knew it was too late. He now was a married man and she, just a girl, a woman he used to know before he found Linda and her faith.

Taking a deep breath, the redhead hastily brushed a stray tear away and grabbed her bag, leaving the church as fast as possible, yet one pair of eyes followed her, always watchful for the happenings around them, knowing fully well that she hadn't just been there by mistake and trying to piece together what the real reason had been behind her short visit in the house of the Lord.

[literaila]

the truth is weightless

spencer reid x reader

part two to “four i love you’s, one goodbye”

you should probably read that first its important. 

okay so i was looking through and editing and like an idiot i deleted the post.  because i’m an idiot, so if you’ve already seen this... thats why i’m so so sorry... luckily enough i save all of my writing... and tried to remember as much as i could about the rest...

this was requested but theres spoilers so i’m not showing it mwahahahaha

warning: mentions of death, angst, my writing, and lots of crying, blood? i think? maybe?

The shock was palpable.

It lived in Spencer's brain, circling his head for hours a day, a constant nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

He refused to go to her funeral.

He refused to leave his house.

The pain was unbearable.

He spent every day, every day, alone in his small apartment, with all of her things. He lived surrounded by the memory of his best friend, his best friend who he was too late to save, his best friend who loved him with all her heart, his best friend who had died in his arms, died never knowing just how much Spencer loved her.

He couldn't even say the words aloud.

He lived in a constant regret, which swallowed him whole forcing him to live in its dark cave, to live in the bottomless pit, where he couldn't see anything, he was forced into regret with its cold aroma and dark secrets. He lived there, stuck with no way out.

He lived in the cave with the knowledge that he couldn't even admit the truth, the truth that he had so stupidly kept a secret, the truth which he worried might have saved his best friend. He fell deeper and deeper into despair, deeper and deeper down, with regret filling his body whole.

He still couldn't admit it.

He spent each day in his bed, each day surrounded by the boxes his friends had brought from her apartment, brought because he was the closest to her, brought because he was the one that was supposed to go through them and decide what was worth keeping. He spent his days surrounded by all of the things that she wrapped herself in, all the things she had put her heart into and bought, and he didn't even bother looking at them, nonetheless getting rid of what he- what she would never need again.

The others tried to coax him out. Tried to make him understand how worried they were, tried to get him to just get out of bed for one day, to just go outside, to just feel the light on his skin and the air in his lungs.

“Hey Pretty Boy, you know I’m here for you.”

“Come on Genius, we all miss you.”

“Spence, it's going to get better.”

“Reid. I know.”

“Kid, we’ve got a home waiting for you.”

Nothing worked.

The one voice he wanted to hear wouldn't come to the door.

Sometimes, he was almost sure he was forgetting about her, he almost couldn't feel her with him, couldn't hear her voice in his head, couldn't remember the way she looked when she smiled at him, he was almost sure she was disappearing out of thin air.

He knew he couldn't just forget her, knew that the memories of her would never actually go away, but some days, on the days when he needed her words to remind him, on those days he could never remember anything about her. On those days he cried because he didn't want her to leave. He didn't want her to be gone.

On those days it was harder to think about anything.

He refused to go to the funeral.

Her life was worth more than a million parties.

Her life was worth more than some tears, and a couple of speeches.

Her life was worth the world.

So he didn't go. No matter how much anyone begged him to. He never answered the door, never answered the pleas coming out of desperate voices, never answered the angry remarks, never thought about anything except the way he wished he could hear her laugh one more time, just once more.

There was no relief from any of it.

There was no ending to the pain in his heart, that sometimes he worried was killing him, there was no ending the regret that lived deep within his brain, that kept him locked inside of himself with no escape. There was no ending to the memories of her that liked to remind him of how much he had lost, that liked to rewind in his brain, that liked to be played over and over again.

The only ending was hers.

He wondered if she had been in this much pain when she died, he wondered if in some way they were connected by the things that hurt them the most. He wondered if that would be the last connection they ever had.

The consistent pain.

He tried not to remember the look on her face, the words on her lips, the way her chest contracted in pain as she laid there next to him. He tried to not remember her last moments, the only moments she had left, he tried not to remember how helpless she looked, and he tried not to think about the smile she gave him, the smile she always gave him, as a last reminder that she was still alive.

He didn't want to remember any of that.

He didn't want to get out of bed, or take a shower, or eat something, because what was it worth if there wasn't her voice on the other side of the door. What was it worth to even try if the one thing he wanted he would never get.

He still couldn't admit it out loud.

It was until the wellness check, the check that had been forced upon him and his home, it wasn't until then he decided to leave.

His friends, his family, they had forced him out.

Forced him away from the constant pit of loneliness and sorrow he lived in, the pit that he refused to leave no matter how much they tried to push him out of it.

It wasn't until Hotch reminded him, reminded him of what she would think

“She wouldn't want you to live like this Spencer, think about what she would do if she knew what you were doing to yourself.”

It wasn't until he remembered her stubbornness, and her temper, and her undeniable love for him, it wasn't until then he decided to get out of bed.

The rest of the team made themselves busy with cleaning his apartment, with moving the boxes somewhere Spencer wouldn't trip over them, with cleaning his kitchen and washing his clothes.

Spencer didn't have the energy to say thank you.

He sat on the couch and watched his friends take care of him, he stayed silent and tried just to power through the wave of exhaustion that ran through him.

He already wanted to be back in bed.

Staring at his friends, his friends who seemed perfectly fine, his friends who were not weighted down by the emotions they were feeling, staring at his friends who had to take care of him, who could take care of him because they were just fine, staring at them only made him feel pathetic.

It was Derek who stopped to sit with him, it was Derek who saw the dwindling light fading from his eyes, it was Derek who saw his friend starting to fall apart even more just when they all thought they might be able to put him back together.

It was Derek who sat next to him.

‘Hey Kid,' he said, as he sat down on Spencer's small couch.

Spencer didn't react to his voice.

“Spencer.” Derek tried again, this time his voice more firm.

Spencer looked over at him. His eyes looked dull, his cheeks drooped into his skin, his shirt was practically falling off his shoulders. He looked like he hadn't been alive in weeks.

“Kid it's going to be alright.”

Spencer blinked. Just blinked at his friend, just blinked, and thought about how he wanted to go back to bed.

“Spencer I promise. I promise it'll get better.”

Spencer only looked away, but this time, this time Derek saw something different. He saw a crack in the hard stone that made up Spencer, he saw the change in his eyes, the slight flinch in his face.

He tried again.

“Talk to me, Reid.”

It felt like the first time anyone had said anything to him, it felt like the first time he had heard words from anyone but the voices in his head for weeks, it felt like he was finally going to be done, that he was finally allowed to be done.

He looked over at Derek with tears in his eyes. His mouth was quivering, his hands were shaking.

He didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit the truth out loud, out loud where everyone could hear, he didn't want to admit how wrong he had been, he didn't want to say it just didn't want to say it.

He tried to hold it in, tried to keep himself up.

He tried so so hard.

He failed.

“I loved her so much,” he said brokenly, falling apart, all the pieces he had tried to keep together falling on the floor and into the ground, and deep somewhere inside him something broke.

He sobbed.

Derek pulled him in, pulled him closer so he could hug him, so he could remind Spencer that they were still there, that they weren't going anywhere no matter how broken Spencer felt. They would always be there for him.

“I know,” he whispered as Spencer sobbed.

As he sobbed into his shoulder, as he sobbed for his friend, for the girl he had always looked up to, for the person he had never gotten to tell how much he loved her.

He sobbed in the loss of the only person he had ever denied his love too.

He wished he hadn't admitted it.                                                          

***

Eventually, he had to get back to work.

The team was splitting up, and they needed as much help as possible.

Spencer had to drag himself out of bed.

Before leaving Hotch had said to take as much time as he needed, that he understood how hard it might be to come back, that he respected whatever decision Spencer made.

But it wasn't enough.

He had to go back, if not for himself, for her, for the people she would want him to save.

He had to do it.

So he worked, and he worked, and he avoided every memory and every ache of his heart. He ignored the constant reminders of her in his brain, and he pretended her picture on the wall of fallen agents, he pretended that picture didn't exist.

He didn't want to think about how she shouldn't have been up there at all.

He put all of his energy into working, into saving all the people he could because he knew that was what she would want, he knew that she would never ever want him to give up on something he had devoted her life to. He knew that if he kept working, if he just kept working, eventually, eventually the pain would fade.

It had for her at least.

He worked on cases, but he also worked on Ian Doyle.

The man had killed two of his friends, two of the most important people he had ever known, and as long as he kept it a secret, he would be fine.

He and Derek kept it as underground as possible, only involving Garcia when necessary.

He became obsessed with working on it.

His mind was constantly running over the different places Doyle might be, was constantly thinking about everything he knew about him, was constantly looking for new ways to find him. He couldn't get the man out of his head.

He pretended he wasn't thinking about the way he had killed her.

He pretended he wasn't thinking about her at all.

He pretended he didn't notice the looks JJ gave him when he was lost in thought when he was simply too tired to say anything, he pretended he didn't notice the way Penelope doted on him, the extra way she made sure he knew she was around. He pretended Derek didn't give him hard looks when he got too invested in a lead he had on Doyle.

He pretended that stupid picture wasn't hanging up where he walked past every day.

He pretended it all wasn't happening.

And he still lived in his constant cave, the only safe place he was familiar with, he lived deep in the dark where no one could see him, where no one could see the pain that was eating at his body, that was biting him to pieces when he didn't have anything other to think about than her. He lived in the darkest, coldest moments he could think of, and he didn't want to leave.

He had become so familiar, so used to the feeling of nothing, to the feeling of pain turning him to pieces, he thought that if it stopped if he felt better for even the littlest moment if it stopped than he would forget her.

He would forget all of the pain she was worth.

He was afraid he wouldn't remember how much she meant to him.

So he never got out, never left the open cave, never searched for the entrance, the little bit of light he thought he saw sometimes in the moments where he finally felt like laughing, he pretended that entrance didn't exist.

He was so cold.

It was like that for months. Just him, and the cave, and the people that kept trying to call out to him, and the voices he ignored.

And the memory of the person he hadn't been brave enough to talk to.

It was like that for months. Until, until there was a sign.

Until there was a picture of Doyle, the slightest glance of him until they finally knew where he was.

Spencer felt frozen staring at the man. Staring at the cause of the pain he felt tearing him apart.

Derek had to take care of it from there.

Spencer was sent to take care of Doyle’s son, and he wasn't sure if it was because Rossi needed his help, or if everyone was too worried, too scared of what he would do if he saw Doyle.

He wondered that himself.

He tried to breathe, to remind himself that it was almost over, that he had almost gotten the justice she deserved, the justice both of his friends deserved.

He sat back, he tried his very best to keep the straight head, to help out in any way he could, to remember everything he knew, to remember all the things that could help them, that could save a little boy.

He tried his very best to not fall apart at the thought of her, at the thought of her death, at the thought of the man that had caused her death, he tried to keep himself together, for her, her, for her.

Her.

He felt almost useless.

But his family was coming back, all of his family was going to be there, they were all looking for the same thing now, there was no more keeping secrets, or doing all the work with just Derek, now he had all of them.

When Hotch came back there was a moment of joy in his heart, just a moment of him feeling relieved that his boss was there, it was only a moment. The tiniest moment imaginable. But he felt terrible.

She died, she died because of him, she died because he wasn't fast enough, she died and he wasn't allowed to forget that.

He was really trying to not forget that.

He shouldn't be allowed to move out of his darkness, to leave the cave that surrounded him, she wasn't allowed to come back, and he shouldn't have been allowed to leave, he should have to feel the pain for the both of them.

Glue all the pieces together, for her.

Just figure it all out for her.

Avenge her.

Then, after that, feel the pain.

Back in the cave.

He just had to remember.

***

They all sat around the conference table. Hotch had told them he had important information, he had something that he had to tell all of them.

Spencer wondered when it would be over.

He wondered when he would finally be allowed to go back home, to go back and be alone, he wondered when he could finally turn his mind off, could finally stop remembering everything, could finally just go to sleep. He wondered when it was finally going to be done.

He hoped it would be soon.

He was exhausted.

But Hotch had something to tell them, he had something that Spencer needed to hear.

Spencer needed to be awake for that, he needed to listen as much as he could.

His body was sinking under him, practically shriveling away because of the sleep deprivation, and the malnutrition, and the pain the pain

He kept his eyes on Hotch.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team…As you all know Emily and Y/N had lost a lot of blood after their fights with Doyle... But the Doctors were able to stabilize them.”

Spencer felt lost, felt his mind running over the memory of JJ telling them they hadn't made it, felt himself remembering the sound of his heart breaking, the feeling of all his blood rushing to his brain. He didn't understand, they were not stable, the doctors had not been able to save them.

His mind was connecting dots, and running over everything, and he refused.

He refused to believe he was right.

“Their identities were strictly ‘need to know’… And they stayed there until both of them were well enough to travel, they were reassigned to Paris together where they were both given several identities none of which we had access to, for their security”

No.

No, they died. Spencer remembered. He remembered.

He shook his head.

That was a lie, it was all a lie because they had both died, because she had stopped breathing in his arms, because she had said goodbye to him, because she had left, because he had locked himself away, because she was gone, because she was gone, she was gone she was gone

She was gone.

She wasn't walking through the doors, she wasn't there, she wasn't really in the room, this had to be a joke, had to be a dream had to be something that was meant to hurt Spencer, because it was working it was really working because the pain was there because he was being torn apart because this wasn't real this wasn't real

“Hi,” she said.

And it wasn't real, and it couldn’t have been real, Spencer was just hearing things, he was just stressed, just wrapped up in everything because she wasn't really there she wasn't really there she wasn't she wasn't.

He was still shaking his head.

And his eyes were stinging, and he felt like she was laughing at him, he felt like they were all laughing at him because this was a joke because this wasn't real because this wasn't happening.

“No.” He said, he said, so quick, and so insistently.

He had to be making this up because he wanted to see her because they wouldn't have lied because she wouldn't have left without telling him because this wasn't happening.

He walked past her, past all of them, past the girl who had been mourning for months, past the girl he was imagining.

He pretended he didn't feel the way his shoulder brushed against hers.

***

He was supposed to go to Hotch with any issues. He was supposed to blame him because he had called the order because she was alive she was alive she was still breathing.

He was supposed to go to Hotch with any problem he had.

She was alive.

Shock was keeping him a hostage everywhere he went.

She had tried to talk to him, had tried to explain to him, had tried to smile at him, to smile at him with the smile he thought he would never ever see again, with the smile he imagined so many times, for so many months.

He didn't even look at her.

He couldn't look at the person he thought he would never see again.

Shock was holding him back, keeping him from accepting the truth, keeping him from saying anything to anyone.

She was alive.

It wasn't real.

He was going to wake up, wake up anytime, and she was going to be gone, and the pain the pain he felt the pain he had forced himself to feel for months, he would go back to that, he was going to wake up and it would all go back to normal.

He thought that the pain from before, the heart breaking pain of never seeing her again, he thought that that pain was much better than the one he was feeling now, at least he had a reason for that pain, at least with that pain he didn't have to live with the overwhelming shock.

Doyle had been caught, the man that Spencer had tried his hardest to find- for her it was all for her -and that came with repercussions of its own.

The team was forced to go under trial, was forced to recount everything that happened, was forced to prove to the judge that they were worth keeping their jobs.

Spencer still wasn't talking to her, even when she tried to go up to him, even when she called him with the new phone he had gotten, even when the team pulled him away from work and took him out, even then he refused to talk to her.

He was so terrified.

He wanted it all to be real, wanted it all to be real, didn't want to have to wake up to the dream he was living.

He still wasn't sure if it was real at all.

It took weeks, weeks of putting her things back together, weeks of trying to get back to work, weeks of getting everything ready so she could get back to her life, weeks of overwhelming changes that came with being gone for half a year.

It took weeks for her to get Spencer alone.

She knew he didn't want to talk to her, she couldn't tell if it was because he was angry, angry that they lied, or if it was because he didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to learn about the persons she had become in the months they had been apart.

She didn't care.

She loved him, she still loved him so much, so much that he’d been the only reason she got better, the only reason she had stayed away from him for so long. Her love hadn't faded, hadn't removed itself from every inch of her body even a little bit, and he had to know.

He had to know how sorry she was.

It took weeks to get the chance to talk to him.

It was a celebratory party, one celebrating Emily and her, one celebrating the jobs that they were allowed to keep. It was a celebration.

And Spencer still felt dead on his feet, still felt like he wasn't allowed to talk, wasn't allowed to look at her.

He could barely stand to feel her body heat, to feel her presence from across the room.

So he found a balcony, one that was big enough for him to not feel as claustrophobic, one that looked up at the stars.

That's where she found him.

She just watched him for a moment, she appreciated the peaceful look on his face, the look she hadn't seen on him in months, she appreciated him just standing there. When he was standing there he reminded her a little bit more of the friend she had left behind.

She stared for a couple of minutes.

And then Spencer started to feel it.

He felt the change in the air, the shift in the mood, he felt the body language coming from her almost ten feet away, and he could practically smell the perfume he hoped she still used.

He turned around.

And he looked at her.

Accidentally.

And he felt his heart being torn apart.

She looked beautiful, she was smiling a soft smile, her eyes were alive and bright, her skin was glowing and Spencer could feel the warmth reflecting off of her onto him.

It was the first time he had looked at her since he’d found out.

And she was beautiful.

He felt his heart shattering into pieces at the realization of just how much he had missed her, at just how much his heart had longed for her to come back, at the feeling of the empty space she’d left behind being filled.

He had no idea how to deal with the feeling.

He was so overwhelmed.

“Hey, Spence.”

And he felt himself sob at the sound of her voice.

At the words, he had imagined her saying so many times, at the gentle vibration, at the gentle tone she always used with him, at the sound of the voice he had longed for, the voice he had kept hidden in his head for so long.

She was alive.

“Oh, Spencer.” She said as she walked over to him, as she grabbed his arm as she touched him for the first time in months.

He sobbed harder at her touch.

And he desperately grabbed onto her.

He desperately held her.

He relaxed in the feel of her arms around him, in the feel of her gentle curves, at the feeling of her just being there.

She was just there.

He held on to her tighter.

He was so afraid she was going to leave, that she was going to disappear out of thin air, that she was going to be gone, that she was going to leave just like she had before.

“Please don't leave.” he choked out, his voice breaking, his eyes terrified, his body falling to pieces in her hands, in the hands of the person he had missed for so long.

Tears fell from her eyes at his words.

“I’m not going to Spence. I’m not leaving you again,” she assured him, she said completely sure that it was the truth.

“Y/N” he sobbed again, his body shaking as he held her, as he said her name, as he said the one word he hadn't muttered in months.

She was actually there.

Y/N breathed him in, she held onto him, she tried to search for the words that would convince him, that would tell him that she was never going to leave, that she would never leave him again, that she couldn't stand to be apart from him.

They stood there, together, just together, for the first time in so long, they stood there and they held each other, held the pieces together.

She was alive.

Spencer tried to breathe, he tried to control himself, he pulled back so he could look at her again, so he could memorize everything about her, all the things he was worried he would forget, he looked at her and felt the air finally make it to his lungs as a sweet relief, he felt his entire body-calming, his darkness moving out of the way at just the sight of her face again.

“Y/N.” he said again, his voice less desperate, but his tone more final.

He was trying to convince himself of the truth again.

“Spencer,” she said back, she said quietly. And she smiled at him.

And he couldn't help but smile back, he couldn't help but appreciate the truth at that moment, he couldn't help but feel the cool relief rush through his burning body, rush through all of the things he was trying to keep calm.

“I love you,” she said.

And Spencer felt amazed.

It wasn't a goodbye, it wasn't like last time, she wasn't desperate, or scared, or in pain, she was right there in front of him, admitting the words, admitting the truth that he hadn't been brave enough to say, she was right in front of him and she was telling him she loved him, and she was alive she was alive and-

He loved her. He loved her so much, he loved her more than he loved anything else, he missed her more than anything, and he wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to ever let her go.

No, she wasn't saying goodbye this time.

She was,

“I love you.” he choked out, his words blocked by the bliss in his chest, the exhilaration in his body, his words hidden behind the tears he was letting run down his cheeks.

This wasn't a goodbye.

“I love you.”

It was

Hello.

my masterlist here

do you get it? goodbye? hello? dsfshds look at me connecting the dots i’m so funny thank you so much for reading

taglist: @fiftyshadesof-reid @gublerspublers @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @jamesdeerest