#and it genuinely made me emotional afterwards thinking about all the gatherings with our other family friend when the kids are all mostly

[munadyke]

not 2 be dramatic or anything but sometimes it makes me so sad to see siblings getting along really well and like actually being best friends

[missjaystone]

Inescapable

Summary: Even in the middle of the ocean, your alpha manages to find you, even if it was an accident. Pairing(s): Alpha!Helmut Zemo x Reader Word Count: 3,640 Warning(s): NONCON! DUBCON! A/B/O Dynamics! Forced Claiming! Manipulation! Implied Stalking! Miscarriage mentioned! Death mentioned!

Everything around you froze when you looked up and met a certain pair of brown eyes, a certain sparkle when they looked into yours. The contact was brief before he was led around the corner by the Dora Milaje but it felt like it would never end. You worked on the Raft as a therapist to put as much distance between the two of you as possible but now that he was here, where could you go? The way he smiled at you as he walked by, it wasn't comforting like the first time you'd seen it, it made your heart stop in fear. It made his claiming mark on your neck throb in pain, a reminder of how much power he'd had over you before and how much he'd always have. It reminded you that he was your alpha, whether you wanted him to be or not. The man that passed by you wasn't the man you'd met, he was much worse.

The battle was over, your husband was dead, the child you were growing followed suit not long after you got the news, like he couldn't bear to even be born in a world without his father; you couldn't even blame him, you'd contemplated ending your own life to join your husband in whatever afterlife awaited. You'd just gone back to work after your allotted week of bereavement leave and another week of personal time. You weren't sure if you were ready to go back to work or not, but at the very least it would distract you. The first thing you noticed when stepping into your office were the pictures of you, your husband, and his family. You turned the picture frames face down before you could stare for too long, everyone in the pictures was dead; your husband, your mother and father in law, your two brothers-in-law, everyone.

Your first patient came exactly at 9:30 for their appointment. He was a brown-eyed brunette man of average height, dressed surprisingly nice for a therapy appointment. You greeted him with a soft smile and a handshake. "Welcome, Mr..." you trailed off so he could introduce himself. "Zemo," he answered, his thumb running over your knuckles gently before he let go of your hand and took a seat "Baron Helmut Zemo." "Would you like me to address you as Baron Zemo or Mr. Zemo? Or just simply Helmut if that would make you comfortable?" You asked him. "You can just call me Helmut, Doctor, but thank you for asking," he returned the same sad smile you'd given him when he came in. "Well, Helmut, I'm glad you came in. It's never easy dealing with loss and having someone to talk to is far better than bottling it up. I'm proud of you." He gave a single nod after looking around the office, motioning to the overturned picture on your desk "I thought my friend might be nuts to have referred me here but maybe you understand my pain better than anyone can." You smiled sadly at him "you'd be surprised at how many people understand." You saw his attention drift towards the sweets jar on your desk, holding it out to him "Turkish delight?" He smiled a bit more, this time a little more genuine as he took a piece out "don't mind if I do, Doctor."

After your first appointment, he came back twice a week. He told you about his wife and son, how much it hurt when he finally found their bodies amidst all the rubble. You asked him about his favorite memories with them, trying to make him remember the good times. You asked him about them; his wife's favorite flower or his son's favorite toy, encouraged him to open up about them. Soon he had you talking about your husband and the people you lost. It was amazing how effortlessly he tore down both your professional and emotional walls. He had you falling for him before you even knew you were.

For two months you tried every which way to talk him down off of his growing rage and hatred for the Avengers. You used everything you'd learned in school to make him understand breaking them apart wouldn't bring back his family or make anything better. At the beginning of the third month, he seemed to drop it, and you foolishly thought that was the end of it, that he'd seen reason. He'd slowly been getting bolder during your appointments, asking questions, each more personal than the last but only by a little. One evening, after seeing him for almost four months, he showed up about half an hour after your last appointment of the day, it was about a quarter of six. He was dressed just as nice as he always was, maybe even nicer "I hate to disturb you so late, doctor but may I take you out to dinner this evening? I'd very much like to thank you for these past months; I knew it's your job but I can't imagine what kind of troubled headspace I'd be in if I didn't have you to talk to." He'd asked so politely, how could you refuse? While you gathered your things, you missed the hungry look in his eyes. You missed the way they dragged over your body, the same way a lion looks at his prey. You'd be his omega soon. Whether you wanted it or not. You were his innocent, gentle little lamb and you needed to be protected from other wolves.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were at his favorite fine dining restaurant in all of Novi Grad. It was fun, the most fun you'd had in months since the battle of Sokovia and the heartbreak that followed. After that first dinner together, it became a more frequent occurrence, usually once a week after his appointment. You were smart, you knew how stupid it was to be dining with the patient so frequently. This professional relationship was becoming close and intimate. He had you on the hook before you could even realize it and pull away. As you began dining with him more, your guard fell. Helmut was no longer your patient, he was your friend, he understood your pains. You began dining together more frequently and then he introduced alcohol into the equation.

When you looked back at everything, you cursed yourself for being so stupid. How could you not see his plan? He was making you comfortable so it'd be easier for him to go in for the kill. Everything you shared with him would get used against you later. Helmut could play your mind like a flute and you let him, you gave him the tools he needed to find your weak spots and exploit them for his own benefit. If he'd crashed into your life and caused as much trouble as he had, you could hate him, but you let him in, welcomed him even and he made himself as comfortable as possible before finally taking what he came for.

Your first night together was gentle and slow, getting to know each other's bodies on such an intimate level. You turned your back to him afterward, eyes watering as the feeling of betrayal settled in the pit of your stomach like a stone. "What's the matter, malo jagnje? Did I hurt you?" He'd asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he looked you over worriedly. You shook your head, quickly wiping your tears before they hit the satin pillow sheets beneath you. "No, it's not you, Helmut," you whispered. "Then what?"  He asked, a worried frown on his face. "I just worry, it feels too soon, like I've already started moving on," you answered with a sniffle. "Nobody mourns the same, jagnje, it's different for everyone. You told me that," he assured you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling your back to his chest.

He repeated everything you'd told him whenever you got emotional. 'Sometimes the best way to honor someone's memory is to find new ways to be happy' 'you can't beat yourself up for being happy without them, this is what they would have wanted' 'nobody can ever replace them but you can't wallow in self-pity forever'. Every piece of advice you gave him was used back against you. The two of you had been seeing each other for two months before you stopped answering his calls and messages. He'd shown up at your apartment when you hadn't returned his messages, worried something had happened to you, that his little side activities trying to destroy the Avengers might have led to you being hurt or captured or worse.

He was relieved to find you alive and well. "You haven't been speaking to me, are you unwell?" He asked after you hesitantly let him inside. "I don't think I can keep doing this, Helmut, I'm sorry," you said in a shaky, quiet voice. His face fell in disappointment "what's the matter? Have I done something? Malo jagnje, please, you can tell me anything you know that," he pleaded, taking your hand only to have it slowly pulled from his grasp.

"It's not you, Helmut," you said as clearly as you could muster, wiping the tears that were already beginning to roll down your cheeks. "Then what is it, moj voljeni? What's happened?" He pleaded for an answer. "It was too soon, I can feel myself forgetting him and I don't want to. I don't want to forget all the time me and Christoph spent imagining and building our future together. I don't want to forget about the baby we almost had, that died inside of me almost as soon as he heard the news of his father's death. I don't want to forget everything he and I had but when I'm with you, I feel the memories slipping away and I'm not ready and I'm so sorry for that Helmut," you told him, sniffling throughout. He stared at you for a long moment after you finished speaking, not saying anything. When he finally did react, he approached you and pressed a kiss to your forehead "I understand, little lamb, and I'll wait for you." With that, he gave you a tight hug, rubbing your back comfortingly as you sobbed into his chest for a bit before he left. You went to sleep that night thinking about how lucky you were to have a confidant like Helmut in your life.

You remembered thinking that was the end of things. He took it well and things would continue as they were before you became sexually involved. No wonder he called you his little lamb, you were too innocent and naive to see the anger in his eyes when you told him you'd stop sleeping together. If you knew then what you knew now, you would have run from the hills, hidden at the north pole. You would have gone to the police and gotten a restraining order or hired a security detail. But you didn't do any of that. You were a lamb being led to the slaughter by no one other than yourself.

Helmut stormed into your office on a night he knew you stayed late to put the week's worth of notes away in their correct files. As fast as he'd appeared, he'd closed and locked the door behind him, watching your stunned form for a reaction. "Helmut?" You barely managed to get his name out before he'd crossed the room, pulling you to him and into a rough kiss. No matter how much you shoved his chest, he only pulled away when he was ready to. He effortlessly picked you up and set you on your desk, already positioning himself between your legs "I've waited for you to realize your mistake, jagnje, but I'll wait no more. I know you love me, омега, you're troubled mind is still reeling from the loss too much to accept it." "Helmut, I don't want this anymore, stop it," you shoved him away but it did little to dissuade him. It only angered him.

He grabbed your jaw tightly and made you look into his eyes; the pools of brown swirls had been replaced by black, lust-blown pupils of a... an alpha going through his rut. It sent waves of panic through your mind but waves of something else to your core. You whimpered when you felt your heartbeat speed up, reacting to the alpha's close, intimidating presence. "Helmut this isn't what you want, this isn't you," you tried to reason despite the rising panic telling you to run. He chuckled darkly "oh, little lamb, this is what I've longed for since before I stepped foot in your office. I caught a whiff of your sweet, scent when you visited the memorial all those months ago and I knew you'd be mine. You might not want to admit it, but your body knows you need an alpha like me to treat you right, keep you safe," he hummed as he ground the growing bulge in his pants against your clothed core. "Helmut-" you started, but his squeezing your jaw harder made you stop immediately. "You'll address me as alpha from now on, little lamb. I'd rather not hurt you but tonight I will make you mine by any means necessary, understood?" He asked, loosening his hold so you could nod, which you did hesitantly.

Pleased, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them and your underwear down, a smirk appearing on his features. He pulled your pants completely off and discarded them carelessly, holding your underwear up so you could see just how much you didn't want this; the flimsy black fabric already had a small amount of slick arousal on it. You watched in embarrassed shock and he brought the fabric close and sniffed it, a pleased hum leaving his lips as he tucked them into the pocket of his pants. "I think you do want this little omega, you want to please your alpha don't you?" He asked softly as his hand slowly drifted higher up on your thigh. "You aren't my alpha, Helmut," you said bitterly, ignoring the tears that stung your eyes as you glared daggers at the man you'd considered your friend and confidant. He snarled and dropped his hand to your neck, squeezing until the air barely flowed "but I will me, little lamb. And you'll be my perfect little omega, my perfect girl who'll give me the family we both crave and deserve."

His hand on your thigh finally came in contact with your core which was already soaked and ready for him. He hastily pushed in two of his fingers, curling them as he pulled you into a dominating kiss, nipping your bottom lip enough to bruise. Your denials were muffled by his lips and soon faded into pitiful, needy whines from his unwanted touches. He smiled darkly against your lips when he felt your body arch into him "see, омега? Your body knows what it wants, it's that big beautiful brain of yours that's keeping you down." You shook your head, trying to save any dignity you had left, which was none "I don't want this, Helmut, and I don't want you!" The words felt like acid coming up but his chuckle hurt worse. He was three fingers deep in your cunt, pulling whines and quiet, muffled moans from your lips, he knew you didn't mean that.

When he abruptly pulled his fingers out, you regrettably let out a disappointed whine, another, needier whine following as you watched him suck his fingers clean without break eye contact. It took .2 seconds for him to undo his belt and push his pants and briefs down, stroking his throbbing cock while he looked into your eyes. His hand still holding your wrist remaining just as tight. "I'll always take good care of you, my needy little lamb, you'll never want for anything ever," he promised, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead that didn't match the roughness he used to immediately bury himself to the hilt. He started off with a brutal pace, not giving you any time at all to adjust as he had before. His thrusts were purely animalistic, he was just an alpha trying to knot the omega in front of him amid his own release. He let you bury your face in his chest as an escape for now, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your life.

"See, little lamb? See how much you need your alpha to make you feel good, make you feel better than good?" He asked when you finally gave up on trying to mentally escape the moment. "N-not my alpha," you stuttered out in between the rough hammering of his hips. He snarled and bared his teeth, eyes darkening even more than you thought possible. "We'll see," he mumbled angrily. He tilted your head and moved your hair out of the way quickly, leaving no time for you to react before he sunk his teeth into your mating gland, his hips faltering a few times before his movements went from thrusts to more a series of rapid ruts as his knot began to inflate. Your pained scream was music to his ears, it was the sound of you becoming his omega, making it so no other alpha alive would dare to so much as breath on you.

When he detached from your shoulder, he again pulled you into a kiss, making sure you could taste the metallic taste of your blood on his lips while the feeling of euphoria from the bite coursed through your veins, reaching every last nerve ending. He let out a pleased groan when he felt your cunt strain around his knot as you came, sending him headfirst into his own climax almost immediately. His face happily buried in your chest as he rode out his orgasm, ropes of his cum painting your walls, reaching your innermost areas while you held onto him for dear life.

Your stifled sobs made him look up, a small frown on his face. "Oh, little lamb, don't cry," he said softly as he wiped your cheeks "I just want to keep you safe from all the wolves in the world, it won't always be this way." He ignored how hard your palm connected to his cheek "you bastard!" He gently picked you up and sat down in your chair, letting you curl up in his lap without dislodging his knot, smirking slightly when he heard your whimper at the shift in position. He soothingly rubbed your back as he held you close, comforting you "it's okay, омега, I'd hoped you'd accept us on your own terms but my rut came early and nobody else will do." You hated this; being reduced to your dynamic, to some cock sleeve for him to use as he saw fit. He'd bound you to him for the rest of your lives and there was nothing you could do about it now, so you curled into his chest and sobbed until you had no more tears.

You recalled the way he stayed with you for the rest of the night, comforting and tending to you. He'd return often, usually every other day to take you out somewhere for a date or just show up at your apartment to do it all over again. You couldn't put up much of a fight, once he was close enough, your omega side came out and you were putty in his hands. And he knew that, and he treasured it. He showered you in gifts; clothes, jewelry, wines, books, everything he could think of. When his visits became few and further in between, you hated the nerves you felt. You hated the way you wondered when he'd come back home to you. You were messed up, and it felt like it was all your doing. You broke your professional rules. You let him into your life. You told him everything he needed to know to get to you. You let him claim you. You were Baron Helmut Zemo's little lamb, and he'd never let you forget it, leaving bruises on your thighs and hickeys on your neck to show any and everyone you were a protected little omega, and woe to anyone who caught your alpha's wrath.

You then had to watch in horror as his actions became known on the news; he'd never given up his plot to destroy the Avengers. He'd succeeded more than he could have ever dreamed of and now, he was in jail. He'd be in jail for the rest of his life. It felt like losing your husband all over again, the pain deep in your heart hurt twice as much now. You practically had to go through detox to get used to life without your Helmut around you. You were still protected by his mark but you'd never get to listen to him shower you with praises while he cleaned you up after sex. You had to get used to a life without being on his arm and you hated yourself for craving his attention and companionship that you'd still claim to hate.

He smiled so happy when they stopped while waiting for the door to open. He spoke in Sokovian so nobody around understood him "izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo." "What'd he just say?" Your superior asked, looking between the two of you. You felt that familiar stone in the pit of your stomach, he'd have you doing his bidding in no time. You were already wrapped around his finger. You shook your head and looked at your boss "he's mistaken me for someone else." "Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje," Helmut said with a smirk before he was pulled away by a member of the Dora Milaje, leaving you with a wink.

-malo jagnje - мало јагње - little lamb -jagnje - јагње - lamb -moj voljeni? - мој вољени - my beloved -омега - omega -izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo - изгледаш прелепо као оног дана кад сам те погледао, јагње мало - you look as beautiful as the day I laid eyes on you, little lamb -Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje - Једва чекам да стигнем, јагње - I can't wait to catch up, lamb

[oo-hazel-oo]

The Lucky Batch

hey y’all! i’ve been working on this for a hot minute — turns out i am incapable writing anything shorter than 5,000 words, so sorry in advance for how long this got. a huge thank you to @cosmicghostie for being the ultimate writer's cheerleader and to the rest of the lucky batch for giving me such amazing characters to work with! you all genuinely brighten my day, so i hope this brightens yours! ♥︎

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lucky: a few days in the life of Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist

content warnings: blood/injury, weapon use, lots of emotional distress (but also some fluff to make up for it!!)

Thumbs didn’t know when he had become Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist. It just kinda happened.

His original role as the squad’s battle strategist shifted after he realized that his usual skill-set wouldn’t be helpful to a squad who typically threw strategy out the window.

Yet even without a set strategy, the unconventional group somehow had a relatively high success rate when it came to their missions. Thumbs had assumed it was their unpredictability that gave them an advantage. Or the fact that each of them had unique abilities, unlike any soldiers he had ever met.

However, the longer he was with Clone Force 37, the more he started to notice just how special his batch-mates were.

The twins, Foxy and Pepper, had caught his attention first. Both were skilled in their own ways, but what stood out to Thumbs was how each was fiercely protective of the other. He wasn’t sure what the pair had gone through to end up on the Clover, but he couldn’t help but notice the weight of Foxy’s quiet around strangers or the subtle promise behind each sticker that Pepper placed. Thumbs knew more than anyone, love was always accompanied by fear.

He saw this fear in Master Kenhla, every time she glanced towards the two padawans she had come to mentor. Despite her powerful posture, Thumbs could see how she carried the galaxy on her shoulders; not so that she could manage more, but so her brothers could bear less.

Brothers like Rane and Skip, who had lost everything, everyone, before finding their place with the Lucky Batch. Or Sparks and Ryder, both of whom blamed themselves for tragedies of the past.

They all had lost so much… Yet, by some miracle, they had found each other.

Thumbs would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This particular day had started normally, which for Thumbs meant wincing as three screaming forms barreled towards where he sat knitting at the back of the ship. He set his needles down, knowing he would not be getting back to work anytime soon.

“Here we go,” he mumbled under his breath as his batchmates shouted from across the hull.

“THUMBS!!!”

The small stampede, which was revealed to be Sparks, Ballast, and Luna, raced towards him, each one attempting to outpace the other.

“Oh Maker, Ballast, what did you do?”

The batcher in question skidded to a stop, mock-offense written across his face. “I didn’t-”

Thumbs gave each of his batch-mates a once-over, scanning them for injuries. “Should I get Pepper? Is anyone hurt?”

“Not yet,” the two mechanics both mumbled under their breath.

Thumbs sighed in equal parts relief and exhaustion. Ballast and Sparks had been ‘friendly’ rivals for as long as he had known the pair. Unfortunately for him, their rivalry often extended outside the realm of mechanics and into the everyday affairs of the Lucky Batch, with Thumbs usually acting as the chosen mediator of these disagreements.

Sparks pointed at Ballast, pleading his case. “He ate all the cookies Jack made me!”

“You’re overreac-”

“And drank all my caf.”

Now Thumbs understood the near-murderous look on Sparks’ face.

His brother had always done so much for the batch and asked for very few things in return, one of those things being his morning cups of caf: a simple but necessary pleasure that allowed him to function throughout the day.

Thumbs brought his attention back to the pair in front of him, wondering whose word to trust more. Then he brought his gaze down, to a much more reliable source.

“Luna, what happened?”

The padawan looked up nervously, her eyes partially hidden behind choppy bangs. Thumbs smiled when he noticed she was wearing the mittens he had knit for her. He had originally made pairs for both her and Brisk while they were stationed on a colder planet, but now Luna liked to wear them for fun, claiming they made her look like an ewok.

The young girl shrunk from the attention that was suddenly on her, moving closer to Ballast’s side.

“I…”

“What happened is he drank all my caf.” Sparks stepped forward, jabbing another accusatory finger towards Ballast. “The caf that prevents me from strangling my brothers when they get on my nerves.”

Thumbs spoke up, attempting to diffuse the rising hostility. “I thought you didn’t even like caf, Ballast. I always see you drinking that tea Jackal likes.”

The mechanic shifted on his feet nervously. “Well, I…”

Thumbs looked towards his brother curiously, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Something about the whole dispute seemed off, almost like Ballast was covering for someb-

“Wait,” a small voice piped up from behind the three brothers. “B-Ballast didn’t take your caf, I did.”

“You-” Sparks spun towards the voice with an instinctive glower before recognizing its source. His features softened almost instantly. “What?”

Luna shrugged sheepishly. “I wanted to see if it was good… It was! And Master Ken said I was exceptionally energetic during our training afterwards.”

Thumbs fixed his gaze on Sparks expectantly, curious how he would react to the young batcher’s confession.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, wringing her mittened hands. “I know I should’ve asked.”

Sparks cleared his throat awkwardly as he waved off her apology. “No, it’s uh... It’s fine.”

Luna’s expression remained uncertain and Ballast elbowed Sparks in the side, urging him to reassure the young girl.

“Really, I mean... I shouldn’t even be drinking that much anyway,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

Ballast grinned at Sparks, eating up the moment.

Thumbs couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his own face as well. For a squad of soldiers who had fought countless battles and overcome powerful enemies, they sure did surrender fast when it came to their padawans. No one onboard the Clover was immune to their effortless charm.

Luna eventually looked up at Thumbs, seeking his own approval, which he happily granted with an encouraging thumbs up.

There was a welcome moment of silence before Sparks’ head jerked upwards once more.

“Wait, what about my cookies?”

“Hmm...” Ballast looked to the floor dramatically, feigning deep thought. “You mean the chocolate chunk cookies with sea salt and a fine caramel drizzle?” He smirked before continuing. “I have no idea.”

Sparks took two threatening steps towards Ballast and within seconds the two of them were chasing each other throughout the Clover with Luna giggling in their wake.

For the clones, who quite literally were forced to grow up too fast, the padawans’ presence reminded them of what a childhood should be. It kept them grounded, desperate to preserve that feeling for the young girls for as long as they could. And if that meant that Luna could get away with stealing Spark’s caf, then so be it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening’s supply trip was supposed to be easy. A quick in and out operation to gather necessary materials for the coming weeks. But it had already been three hours since Ballast, Sparks, and Foxy’s expected return and no one on the Clover had received an update on their whereabouts.

Thumbs wasn’t someone who paced often. While the rest of the galaxy seemed to be in constant motion, Thumbs always tried his best to remain still at its center. But the longer he waited for his batchmates’ return, the more he felt like he was spinning off his axis, unable to stop the repetitive trajectory of his feet throughout the hull.

He wasn’t even aware of his own movements until they were interrupted by the sound of distant yelling. Strained shouts echoed from outside the Clover’s walls, nearly imperceptible amidst the intensifying wind. Their tone, panicked and desperate, was more bone-chilling than the rain that had started to fall around them.

Storms had always scared Thumbs. He hated seeing flashes of lightning, understanding that the explosion of thunder would follow, but never knowing when. Deep down he knew that thunder was harmless, that lightning posed the greater threat, but at least it was quick, unexpected, gone in a flash. Thunder was slow, deafening, inevitable.

When the Clover’s ramp finally lowered to reveal a bloodied Sparks cradled in Ballast’s arms, he knew that the lightning had passed.

This was the thunder.

Thumbs watched in silence as his brothers stumbled into the hull of the ship, a trail of mud and blood left in their wake. Ballast and Foxy eased Sparks onto the closest bunk, removing his armor to better assess the injury. Luna and Brisk dashed into the room, their eyes widening at the horrific sight. Luna’s breaths came in labored bursts as she called for Pepper, tears streaming down her face.

The squad’s medic came running, following the worried gaze of the two young girls who stood near the bunks. He spared a brief glance at Foxy before quickly donning a pair of gloves and shouting orders to nearby batch-mates. Hearing the commotion, Master Kenhla arrived and immediately ushered her padawans out of the room, not wanting them to witness the sight of their brother in pain.

While before Thumbs had been unable to sit still, now he felt frozen, cold as the ice on Hoth. His brothers were right in front of him, yet he felt as if he were watching the scene unfold from millions of miles away.

He kept thinking back to that morning — Sparks had been fine, albeit cranky over his lack of caf, and now…

Thumbs hated it. He hated how things could change so quickly.

He watched as Ballast, usually explosive in his mannerisms, now held Sparks’ hand in his own, whispering words of comfort as his brother lay motionless on the cot.

Thumbs suddenly felt sick to his stomach, a shrill ringing filling the air around him. The echoes of a memory that had been stagnant for years, forced into the depths of his mind, suddenly emerged:

An argument, a battle, another brother gone. A hand desperately squeezing his own before going limp, devoid of all life.

Another hand, this one from the present, landed on his shoulder, dragging him out of one nightmare and into another. A voice was speaking, asking if he was alright, telling him to sit down.

Thumbs’ guilt only increased. Hands that should be helping his fallen brother were instead on his own shoulders, urging him towards the nearest seat. He shrugged them off with an uncharacteristic roughness, finally taking a few shaky steps towards Sparks.

He had almost made it to the bunk when the same pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him back.

“Thumbs, stop,” the voice urged. “You need to let Pepper help him. There’s nothing you can do.”

He knew the words were supposed to be comforting. He had spoken the same ones to almost every soldier who had come to him burdened with the invisible weight of survivor’s guilt. Sometimes it was what they needed to hear; other times, it wasn’t.

The last thing Thumbs saw was an oxygen mask being lowered onto his brother’s face before eventually succumbing to the arms around him, letting himself be removed from the scene.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thumbs woke up the next morning with a headache.

Foxy, who had been the one to escort him out of the room the night before, filled him in on what had happened during the supply run.

Apparently as the trio had made their way back to the ship, bandits had intercepted them. The ragtag group of thieves were lacking in both numbers and artillery and hadn’t been particularly difficult to subdue. Sparks had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the unforgiving crossfire of a supply trip gone wrong.

Thumbs wished he had been there. Maybe then he could’ve shouted to his brother in warning or pulled him out of harm’s way. Stars, he would’ve jumped in front of the deathly bolt himself if it meant Sparks was still standing at the end of the day.

The two of them had grown close over the past few months, especially after Thumbs learned the story behind Sparks’ name. He could tell that his brother’s outwardly gruff attitude was just a shield used to protect the sensitive, guilt-ridden soldier beneath. Even one offhand criticism of his work as a mechanic could bring him back to the accident and a past he wished desperately to forget.

Because of this, Sparks would often work through the night, losing himself in the wires and circuits of the ship to ensure he didn’t make the same mistake twice. Thumbs was always at his side reminding him to take breaks, to drink water when he was thirsty, to eat when pangs of hunger hit...

But there was little he could do for Sparks now as he lay unconscious in the hull of the Clover.

Pepper had done everything he could, luckily managing to stabilize their brother within a few hours of the incident. Sparks was slowly showing signs of improvement — he had even woke up briefly in the early hours, mumbling something about watering Percy, before slipping back into the depths of unconsciousness.

Percy was the name of one of Sparks’ plants, something Thumbs discovered after walking in on his brother affectionately repotting it in a moment of assumed privacy.

He smiled at the memory, shaking his head in disbelief. It was just like Sparks to be worried about keeping his plants alive while he was barely clinging to life himself.

With nothing to do but wait until his brother woke up, Thumbs made his way into the hull of the ship where he found most of the batch engaged in a lively game of Dejarik. It was a tradition, meant to keep the batches' spirit alive when faced with tough times.

He almost started towards them when he felt a presence to his left, distanced from the laughter of the others.

Thumbs’ gaze landed on Ryder as he stared out of the cockpit window absent-mindedly, though he knew from his expression that his mind was anything but absent.

Thumbs approached slowly, not wanting to startle the squad’s weapons specialist.

“Hey Ry, you alright?”

Ryder glanced up, a flash of surprise illuminating his expression, before looking back down, his face once again shrouded in darkness.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A barrage of laughter sounded from the other side of the room, where everyone was still gathered. “Think I’m gonna go for a ride though.”

“Oh, okay…” Thumbs replied, wanting to say more to his obviously-distracted brother. “Mind if I tag along?”

“You always do,” Ryder said, shooting him a small smirk.

“Hey!” Thumbs laughed, punching his shoulder lightly.

Ryder chuckled, nodding for Thumbs to follow him to the far corner of the hull. Once there, he opened the weapons cabinet, extracting a couple blasters and holstering them on his form.

Thumbs looked at his brother questioningly.

“Just in case,” Ryder said, carefully checking over his chosen artillery.

Thumbs nodded quickly, admonishing himself for not thinking more practically, especially after what happened with Sparks. It was a dangerous thing to give the galaxy the benefit of the doubt.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The planet they were currently docked on was beautiful. The hues of its rolling hills were softened by the dying light, the gentle breeze transforming the tall grasses into golden waves. The sky’s colors evolved with each passing minute, all evidence of the previous night’s storm lost to its changing shades.

It was Thumb’s favorite time of day. At dusk the light never seemed harsh; it was sympathetic, understanding. It hovered, never fully settling, like a cloud. But dusky light was also ephemeral. Thumbs wished he could freeze it, trap it in a jar and release it when he needed its soft companionship.

He knew too many people like dusk: perfect, until they were gone.

“It’s pretty here,” Thumbs eventually broke the silence, a welcome distraction from his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Ryder replied as his eyes traced the horizon, “It is.”

“That why you’ve been coming out here so often?”

Thumbs knew his brother liked to take his speeder out on rides whenever he needed a break from the confines of the Clover. He would even accompany him from time to time. But recently he had been escaping much more frequently and Thumbs couldn’t help but worry that something else was going on.

Ryder chuckled lowly. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Hey, you’re kinda hard not to notice.” Thumbs smirked, gesturing a hand towards his brother’s head: “Ya know, cause of the hair.”

Ryder grinned, blowing a stray strand out of his face. “Yeah, sure thing curly.”

Thumbs ran a hand through his own coily locks with a shy shrug.

The two brothers fell into a comfortable silence as fireflies blinked to life around them. Thumbs pretended they were shooting stars, closing his eyes and wishing for the speedy recovery of Sparks back onboard the Clover.

After a while, the air seemed to become heavy and Thumbs could tell that Ryder needed to get something off of his chest.

His suspicion was confirmed when he heard his brother sigh deeply, preparing to speak.

“Lately…” he started, tugging on the end of his turquoise braid. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

Thumbs nodded and moved to sit beside him in a subtle gesture of comfort.

“About them?”

Ryder nodded, knowing Thumbs was referencing his past squad.

“I’ve been having the dreams again.”

Thumbs’ face fell. He remembered the night he found out about Ryder’s nightmares as if it were yesterday.

He had been awake in the hull of the ship, too afraid that something bad might happen if he allowed himself the privilege of closing his eyes. Ryder had started tossing in his sleep, muttering the names and numbers of unfamiliar clones. Thumbs shook his brother awake, eventually guiding him outside of the ship when he struggled to regain his breath. The two of them had sat on the Clover’s ramp until long after the sun rose, each finding comfort in the other’s presence.

Since then, the nightmares had decreased, but every now and again they would return. The guilt would return.

“In the dream, I’m back on the venator,” Ryder described, his voice hoarse. “First there’s the flashing lights. Then voices, their voices, but they eventually fade away and then there’s just static. For a moment, everything is quiet, just a faint buzzing...”

Thumbs gave his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting him know he was still there, still listening.

“And then I’m in the escape pod. As I’m drifting away, I look back towards the ship, but it’s not the venator anymore. It’s the Clover.”

He paused, swallowing thickly.

“And then it’s just gone. Swallowed by fire.”

The unsettling images unearthed feelings that Thumbs never had the courage to voice out loud, but the anxious thrumming of Ryder’s fingers on the side of the speeder reminded him of his current task: to show his brother that he was there for him now, regardless of what happened in the past.

“Ry, I know there’s not a lot I can say. But know that they would’ve been so proud of you, of the soldier and brother you’ve become,” Thumbs reassured gently. “We all are.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ryder mumbled.

Thumbs frowned, knowing his brother wasn’t convinced.

“Well, this was supposed to be a surprise, but it looks like you need it now.”

Thumbs pulled out the pack he had brought with him, rifling through it until he found a small bundle. He nervously presented it to Ryder, who observed the way it had been carefully packaged in colorful gift wrap and adorned with stickers, most likely donated by Pepper.

“I made this for you,” Thumbs spoke as Ryder opened the parcel. “It’s a blanket, obviously, but it’s… Well, it’s got a little more to it than that. Each row of stitches is made of yarn from all the different places we’ve been to as a batch. Thought it could be cool to see how far we’ve all come. But I also know how important it is to you that we honor our pasts, so down here,” Thumbs pointed at the bottom left corner, “I stitched in the names of CT-2019 and CT-1882. And over here is General Lyle’s.”

Thumbs looked up at Ryder, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, not really, but I thought maybe it could help you sleep at night.”

There was a long moment of silence as Thumbs began to doubt the impact of his gift. The whole idea was starting to sound stupid now. Maybe if he had-

“I… Thank you, Thumbs.” Ryder finally spoke, his voice cracking slightly. “Really. It’s- It’s perfect.”

Thumbs grinned, glad to see the glimmer of hope return to his brother’s eyes. “Of course, anything for my vod.”

Ryder held the blanket close, tracing his finger over the carefully stitched names of his old squad. His eyes scanned over the various colors and textures that Thumbs had incorporated, recognizing yarn from planets they hadn’t been to in years. How long had his brother been working on this?

He was just about to ask when a subtle movement drew his own gaze downwards. Thumbs was quietly bouncing his right leg, a nervous habit that Ryder had picked up on throughout their time together. He doubted that Thumbs was even aware of his own anxious mannerism, but Ryder could tell that something was on his mind.

“Hey, vod?” Ryder placed the blanket down, his focus now on his brother.

“Yeah?” Thumbs replied, still staring straight ahead.

Ryder thought back to something his companion had told him just moments ago, something that had made him feel important, valuable, seen.

“People notice you too.”

 Thumbs chuckled, thinking back to when he invited himself to join Ryder on his impromptu speeder trip just hours before. “Yeah, I guess my constant pestering makes it hard not to.”

“Yeah...” Ryder continued, almost hesitantly. It would be harder getting through to his brother than he thought. “But we also notice why you do that.”

“And why’s that?” Thumbs asked casually, not quite sure where Ryder was guiding the conversation.

“Because you care.”

At this, Thumbs finally met his brother’s eyes, confusion painting his features. The words were simple, yet something about them did not fully compute.

“No matter how many idiotic things we pull, you’re always there for us.”

Thumbs held his brother’s gaze, considering his words intently, before looking down to his feet. He frowned before mumbling something, barely audible above the light breeze:

“Not when it counts.”

The words sliced through the air, contrary to the soft tone in which they were spoken. Ryder couldn’t help the immediate snap of his head towards his brother.

“What do you-”

“Yesterday, with Sparks,” Thumbs interjected, his voice gaining strength. “No amount of pestering could’ve helped him.”

There was something about the way Thumbs was speaking — something that Ryder had missed before, something familiar — that was unravelling with each passing moment.

“But he’s okay now, he’s fine,” Ryder tried to console, his brow furrowed.

Thumbs scoffed. “That was just luck. I heard what Pepper said: If his injury had been just an inch to the left…” He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“Well, luck is kinda our thing,” Ryder said, repeating words that Pepper had spoken to him when he first joined the batch.

“But I don’t want it to be!”

Ryder looked up in shock. In the entire time he had known Thumbs, he had never once heard him raise his voice. But shock soon turned to concern when he noticed the tears streaming down his brother’s face.

“I don’t want to rely on luck,” Thumbs choked out, his voice softening. “Not… not when it comes to the people I care about.”

Helplessness.

Ryder was well-acquainted with the feeling — the image of his former general on the other side, the wrong side, of an escape pod window, forever etched into his memory. He tried to think of something to say that could comfort his brother, but the only words that came to mind were the ones Thumbs had already spoken to him moments before.

The whole batch knew that Thumbs had always struggled to take his own advice and that reminding him to do so never seemed to have an effect. It was unusual to see him in such a vulnerable state, something the former-strategist was well aware of as he avoided his brother’s gaze, shame written across his tear-stained features.

Ryder cringed at the sight, knowing he would need to take a more unconventional approach to offer his brother reassurance, one that would hopefully provide him with a fragment of control in a galaxy that seemed to feed on chaos.

Ryder nodded once, steeling himself, before reaching down and pulling his twin blasters out of their respective holsters.

“You know,” he started, attempting to keep his voice level, “I got these from CT-2019 and CT-1882. They were graduation gifts.”

Thumbs turned his head curiously, wiping away a stray tear in the process. A small part of him fought back the urge to smile: unlike his brother, he had been given craft supplies and a book for graduation.

“I could teach you how to shoot ‘em, if you want.”

Thumbs looked towards his brother incredulously.

“Ry, I’ve shot a blaster before...”

Ryder exhaled breathily, a playful grin gracing his features. “Ah, not ones like these. These here are DC-17 hand blasters.” He held his weapons in front of himself reverently. “They’re more powerful than your standard blaster, more efficient too.”

Thumbs hesitated, his confusion at the sudden shift in topic still evident, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, sure.”

Ryder spent the next few minutes guiding Thumbs through the best way to handle the blasters — helping him correct his stance, improve aim, and prepare for recoil. The process was strangely reassuring, giving Thumbs something tangible to hold onto, something he could control.

“Hey, Ryder?” Thumbs asked, looking down at the weapon in his hands, the echoes of its former owners serving as a comforting reminder that those who were gone could still protect their brothers who lived to fight another day. Maybe when Thumbs was gone, he could do the same.

“Thank you.”

Ryder had just begun to respond when a noise sounded from behind them.

Thumbs startled and spun on his heel, impulsively throwing the first thing he could think of towards the nearby bushes: Ryder’s blaster.

He mentally facepalmed as his brother jumped off of the speeder, aiming his remaining blaster towards the sound. He held out a hand as he crept closer to the bushes, silently telling Thumbs to stay back.

A tense moment passed, before a tooka revealed itself from behind the bush.

Thumbs sighed in relief before looking up at Ryder guiltily.

“Probably not the best use of the blaster,” he said with a cringe.

“What, you wanted to shoot it?” Ryder questioned breathlessly, a smirk growing across his features.

“No, of course not!” Thumbs smiled, relieved that his brother didn’t seem upset over his moment of panic. The tooka sauntered up to him, rubbing its head against his legs.

Ryder retrieved the discarded blaster and walked back towards the speeder, the remnants of a smirk still visible on his face. “Well, looks like good things can come from bad luck.”

“Yeah,” Thumbs huffed, looking down at the small animal by his feet. “Guess so.”

And maybe that’s what Clone Force 37 was: a group of outcasts who were all in the process of turning their histories with bad luck into good things — good luck.

“C’mon, hop up,” Ryder said as held out an arm. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Thumbs let himself be pulled into the speeder, the firm grip of his brother’s hand a silent reassurance: I’m here for you.

He leaned back, his eyes reflecting the stars that had started to appear above. He wondered how many of them he couldn’t see, how many millions of lives were being lived just out of his view.

Thumbs glanced over to the brother at his side, thinking about how lucky he was to have crossed paths with him, with all of them, in a universe of infinite proportions.

“We should probably pick up some caf for Sparks on the way back… I know he’ll want some when he wakes up,” Thumbs spoke, laying all the way back in the speeder.

Ryder nodded in agreement as they lurched forward. The sun had finally disappeared from view and the two soldiers soon became mere silhouettes against the dimming night sky.

But anyone familiar with Clone Force 37 knew that they were so much more than two small blips on the horizon:

They were brothers.

And Thumbs was positive that nothing in the galaxy could ever change that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

@the-lucky-batch @lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygalodon @mango-peachjuice @radbatch @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @namesmox @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr

[fishytrouble1]

Sidemen Mukbang Mess-up

KSIxReader Fanfiction

Summary: You and JJ had secretly been dating secretly for about a year now. Not even the Sidemen knew. You both agreed to keep it share your relationship with friends and family, but not the more recent news, however JJ slipped up.

You and JJ were more than just friends you were each others best friend and lover. You had secretly been dating for a year now, and in that time neither one of you had told your friends or families.

At first you were just not going to publicly announce it but after some discussion between you both you realised that if any of your friends or family knew it could potentially of been leaked.

Now the only reason you had hidden it so long was because you were both enjoying the bubble that your were in. You enjoyed it just being the two of you. You knew that as soon as the whole world found out that you were dating, your lives and relationship would no longer be totally private. 

In total honesty you were scared about people finding out, even JJ’s friends and families. You were worried that they would think you were a gold digger, or in it for the fame, but you weren’t. You were in it for your love for JJ and nothing else, and anyways you earned enough with your own job that you never expected anything from JJ in terms of that.

You had first met JJ on the underground. You were rushing to get to your job when you bumped into a random man who’s hood was up and had a hat on. At first you were suspicious about a random person trying to disguise their appearance but now you understand it. 

Anyways, when you bumped into them you spilt their drink all down them. You were so flustered you’d grabbed some napkins from your bag to help clean it. By this point JJ’s hood had fallen and hat was off but you didn’t recognise him. What surprised him was that even after seeing his face you still offered to pay for the dry cleaning or for another drink.

He had agreed to another drink if you joined him, so you called in to your work saying you couldn’t make it today but they didn’t mind as you were technically your own boss, they were just the agency. But as you were spending time with JJ you started to really like him and you could tell he did too.

For a month afterwards you saw each other nearly every day, but every time you met it was either at your place or in a private setting. You were starting to panic that he was a criminal or something so when you mentioned it to JJ he just laughed. 

That night you found out about his career and just how famous he was. You were shocked you didn’t know how famous he was but then again you weren’t all into YouTube or the internet scene. This was the same night you also made your relationship official.

What you loved about JJ was how he was so shocked that you never had any idea how famous he was. It’s how he knew that you were genuine and wanted nor expected nothing from him.

Back to the present day and JJ was getting ready to meet the guys for a Mukbang video shoot. He had spent the night at your apartment after you had suggested something to him. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to bring up marriage, which then led to you suggesting that one day the both of you should get married. After you mentioned it he knew he couldn’t live without you so he proposed and you said yes. 

But within your celebration you couldn’t help but feel bad that none of your friends or families knew. So you and JJ agreed that within the next month you would tell them all privately before going public with your relationship. You wouldn’t announce the engagement however until after you were actually married.

So today he was extra excited as he was going to be telling the boys, after their shoot, about your relationship. You were nervous as you weren’t sure how they were going to react or how they were going to think of you. After JJ told you about them, ]you understood just how much of a family they were. You knew they meant the world to JJ and you were a bundle of nerves about meeting them later this afternoon.

After JJ had left, you went to work and mainly done paperwork to help keep you distracted from the impending meeting. Although the more you thought about the more you realised that as long as JJ was sure and confident in your relationship so will the Sidemen be.

After a few hours of being at work you got a message from JJ saying that you guys had a problem and to meet him at the address he’s sending you. With the cryptic messages from JJ you started worrying over his safety as well as the safety of his friends. You rushed from your work to the address he sent and barged your way in.

“JJ, where are you? Please tell me you’re alright. Please tell me the guys are too.” You start shouting, hoping to find JJ safe and sound.

As you enter a room you see all the Sidemen sat there with smirks on their faces and JJ with a sheepish grin on his. Observing the situation you see that everyone is fine and that the guys are all looking at you as if to figure you out.

From the situation you gather that JJ may have just blurted out to them about more than just him having a girlfriend. You were happy but more pissed that he had made you rush down here for this.

“Olajide Olatunji, please tell me that I did not just rush down here just because you finally told your friends about us?.” You glare at him angrily.

“Ummm...” He rubs his neck nervously.

You breathe out in a huff before turning to the six other sidemen before introducing yourself to each of them.

“Hi I’m Y/N. You must be Ethan.” You shake his hand, him shocked from you already knowing who he was.

“Tobi.” Again you shake his hand, but he’s just smiling at you.

“You look to be the oldest so I’m going to assume you’re Josh.” You try and joke not expecting any laughs however the group burst out laughing when you here someone say, “I like her, she’s funny.”

You turn to the voice and introduce yourself, “Harry I presume.” He nods shaking your hand.

“That means that you’re Vik.” He smiles widely, still slightly laughing from earlier. 

“Which means that you must be JJ’s oldest friend. Simon. Nice to meet you.” He’s a bit more hesitant to shake your hand but he does so anyways.

As you step back you feel JJ place his hand around your waist but you can see the looks on their faces trying to figure out the type of person you are so you decide to address it.

“Look guys, I know you’ve only just found out about me and it’s a shock. Especially since I presume JJ told you our most recent news.” They all nod knowing that you meant your engagement. So you continue.

“But I need to assure you that I honestly never knew who JJ was before I bumped into him on the underground. I’m even paying for half of our wedding/honeymoon because I don’t want him to pay for it all even though I know he’s going to fight me on that matter.” 

You turn to JJ to see him with a raised eyebrow, you presume he was about to reject the idea before you returned the look telling him it weren’t happening. He sighs accepting that you were splitting the costs. You hear laughter coming from the guys.

“Look Y/N we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable we just worry about JJ finding someone who’s out for his money and fame and not him. But we can see that’s not who you are. And the fact you were so concerned over our wellbeing is well when you stormed in here shows just how caring you are.” You hear Simon say, instantly calming the small bit of worry that was still there.

“Yeah, Y/N to be honest it was a shock at first but after meeting you, I can see just how much JJ and you love each other. So as long as JJ is happy, we’ll all be happy.” Josh says.

“Welcome to the Sidemen family Y/N”. You hear Tobi say.

You start laughing at their antics, also attempting to hide your inner emotional outburst from what they said to you.

You looked to JJ and smiled, knowing that it didn’t matter who found out, that as long as you had each other you could get through it all. Especially since now you both had the support of the Sidemen behind you.

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Revelations (Spencer Reid x fem!MC)

Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO As everything goes down with Tobias Hankel, Aria and the BAU have to find him before it’s too late. Once they do, Aria takes Spencer home and comforts him. 

Content: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Descriptions of torture and violence (all related to Reid’s abduction in season two), swearing, kidnapping and emotional turmoil

MC’s name and pronouns: Aria (are-ee-ah) Glenn, she/her

Word Count: 5024 (it’s a long one folks so buckle up - it ended up being almost ten full pages lmao)

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

“Hey,” I looked up from my phone to see Emily standing in the doorway. “Can I sit?”

I gestured to the space on the bed beside me, in the small house that made me nauseous. Thinking about the fact that the bed I was sitting on right now belonged to the man who had kidnapped Spencer made me want to both punch something and throw up. Emily came and sat beside me, turning to face me as I did the same. Her voice was soft when she spoke, studying my face. 

“How are you doing?” She asked. It was a question she already knew the answer to, and I scoffed.

“We’re both profilers, Prentiss. You tell me; how do you think I’m doing?” I snapped. Immediately afterwards, guilt flared through my chest, and I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. It’s just - well, you know. I don’t think any of us are in a good state of mind right now.”

I dropped my gaze back to my hands, resting in my lap. She took them, directing my attention back to her as she spoke. 

“Glenn. We all care about Reid, and we’re all doing everything we possibly can to get him back. But I know that your relationship with him is… different. You kind of disappeared earlier, I just wanted to check on you.”

“I just couldn’t watch that anymore,” My chest tightened just thinking about the sight of Spencer, tied to a chair, being forced to decide who lives and who dies. He looked so broken -

I forced myself away from that train of thought, taking my hands out of Emily’s to press them to my eyes in an attempt to ward away the tears I felt rising again. 

I’ve cried so much in the past two days I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to again. 

“I understand,” She moved my hands so I’d look into her eyes again. “I just wanted you to know we’re all here for you, ok? We’re all in this together, we’re all worried about him. You’re not alone in what you’re feeling.”

I nodded, and she pulled me into a tight hug, one I returned gratefully. The moment was interrupted by Derek flying into the room, with a statement that made my heart drop. 

“The live feed is back on,” He announced, clearly intending for Emily and I to come with him. I knew that watching the videos was the best way for us to figure out where the hell this guy took Spencer, but the idea of seeing him in that cabin again made me want to throw up. I immediately started to shake my head, a childlike reflex to the statement. 

“No. No, I can’t, I -” I wanted nothing more than to be curled up in his arms right now. 

This all felt like one massive nightmare. I wished I could just wake up, scared before I realized he was safe in his apartment, laying in bed with me. I would turn over and press a quick kiss to his lips, not enough to wake him up but enough that I could appreciate his presence even more after imagining the worst possibility, before burying myself back in the warmth of his embrace…  

“Aria. Hey,” Emily had her hand on my arm, pulling me out of my fantasy. My mind had started to take over, to take me into a daydream that was safer than the turmoil that had become our reality. “I know this is hard. But the more people we have working on this, the better the odds of us finding him are.”

“I hate to say it, but you guys need to hurry. We have no idea how long he’s going to be live.”

I felt like I was going to pass out when I stood up, making my way into the computer room that had become Garcia’s base for the past two days. My attention focused immediately on the screen displaying the live feed of Spencer. Emily was still standing next to me, and she reached out, giving my arm a quick squeeze to make sure I knew she was right there. I nodded my appreciation, but I couldn’t break my eyes away from the video.

He looked exhausted. Exhausted, and in pain, physically and mentally. 

I didn’t know how much more of this he could handle. 

“This ends now.” Charles Hankel’s voice was one I knew would be at the center of my nightmares for years to come; and if that was how I felt, I couldn’t imagine what Spencer was feeling right now. I didn’t think I wanted to. “Confess your sins.”

I dug my nails into my palms, trying to steady my breathing. I could tell Spencer was trying not to cry, and for a moment I thought Charles wasn’t going to do anything before he moved closer to the chair, punching him hard in the face. A sob escaped my lips, and I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to silence myself as I watched him beat him, over and over, demanding he confess to the sins he hasn’t committed.

I looked around the room, and I knew we were all feeling a very similar set of emotions right now. It’s just a matter of what was the strongest. Garcia was trembling from her seat in front of the computers. Derek looked like he was going to genuinely kill somebody, and JJ looked like she was going to be sick. Hotch and Gideon were watching with nothing but fatherly worry, and even Emily looked like she couldn’t breathe.

“Tobias, help me,” His voice was so quiet we could hardly hear it through the camera speaker, Spencer begging for some kind of rescue. He was crying openly now, and I knew that I was silently doing the same as Charles hit him again before pushing the chair backwards, causing Spencer to fall to the ground. 

At first I thought he’d passed out. But then I noticed him convulsing. 

“Oh my god,” Garcia was the first one to say something, her voice breaking as we watched Spencer gasping for air, unable to do anything but observe from the other side of a screen, “He’s killing him.”

I felt myself starting to spiral again, unable to even speak, wanting so badly to leave but knowing I’d never forgive myself if I did. So I stood there and watched the man I love thrash on the ground while Charles Hankel just stood over him, watching him die without even blinking. It wasn’t until Spencer stopped moving that he spoke. 

“That’s the devil vacating your body.” 

Spencer wasn’t moving.

Spencer Reid was dead. 

He was lying dead on the floor in a cabin in the middle of who-the-fuck knows where and there was absolutely nothing I could do to help him. 

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. 

“No…” Was all I was able to say. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the image of Spencer’s body on the floor, still tied to that chair, abandoned as Charles Hankel left the room, leaving the camera still rolling. Gideon stormed out of the room - I thought I heard the bathroom door slam - and everyone immediately jumped into action, leaving Garcia and I alone staring at the unchanging computer screen.

“Come on baby, wake up. Please, for the love of god, please wake up.”

It felt like my mind was speedrunning the five stages of grief as I muttered under my breath, begging to a man who couldn’t even hear me. Who had no control over whether he lived or died. 

Garcia hadn’t moved either, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stared at the screen. I moved over to her, grabbing her hand in mine, both of us trying desperately to comfort each other after the scene we just witnessed, unable to process what happened enough to even speak. After a moment, Hotch came back into the room, opening his mouth to say something to Penelope when something finally changed on the video in front of us. 

Charles Hankel had come back into the room.

Except it wasn’t Charles this time, it was Tobias, running over to Spencer’s body and immediately starting CPR in an attempt to save his life. Hotch called everyone back into the room, all of us gathered around the screen. After what felt like years, we heard it.

Spencer finally coughed. 

He woke up, and I thought I was going to cry from relief. I might’ve actually been crying; honestly I’d spent most of the last two days in a constant state of either crying or about-to-be crying, so it wouldn’t have come as much surprise. Everyone let out varying gasps of relief before getting to work again, deducing that Hankel would have to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene to have killed those people and then uploaded the video in the time frame that he did. Hotch was about to leave before we noticed Hankel’s demeanor change yet again as he stood over Spencer, who was still stuck on the floor. 

“You came back to life.” 

“Raphael.” 

“There can be only one of two reasons.”

“I was given CPR.”

“There are no accidents.”

Whatever momentary relief I got from seeing Spencer alive faded the moment Raphael began to ask questions. 

Questions about us. 

“He thinks it’s Revelation,” Hotch stated, concern filling his usually even tone. “The 7 Archangels versus the 7 Angels of Death.”

“Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

My hand flew back up to my mouth as I processed the command, watching Spencer’s face crumble with the realization as well. 

“Kill me.” The words made my heart break, and I found myself desperately fighting the edge of tears, yet again. 

Damn, I really hated having emotions.

“Tell me who dies.”

“No.”

Raphael reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a revolver and pointing it straight at Spencer’s forehead. It was a game of Russian Roulette, and I genuinely thought I might puke from the omnipresent anxiety making my knees weak. 

“I can’t -” I broke, turning away from the screen and into Derek’s arms as he pulled me into a hug. I hated not watching, but it was more than I could bear. It was all I could do just to listen as Spencer denied his request over and over again, each time the click of the trigger bringing him closer and closer to a bullet in the brain. 

“I choose… Aaron Hotchner.”

The sentence made me snap my gaze back to the screen, not breaking the hug but watching attentively as Spencer quoted a Bible verse. Hotch, however, left the room as soon as Spencer had finished speaking, everyone trailing out into the main room after him. 

“Hey, he’s alive. He’s alive,” Derek comforted me as everyone followed Hotch.

It’s truly a sign of how fucked up the situation is when the only comfort is that he hasn’t died yet.

Or at least, not permanently. 

I nodded, and broke the hug, following after everyone who had already found Hotch again. He was holding a Bible, quickly explaining that Spencer misquoted the verse. 

Misquoted the verse on purpose.

We’d found him.

We piled into the cars, my heart racing a mile a minute as we sped down the abandoned country roads, pulling up to an empty plantation, with nothing but trees in sight for miles aside from a small cabin and a cemetery surrounding it. 

We checked the cabin first.

Clear.

It wasn’t until we started making our way across the grounds that we heard it. 

A gunshot. 

“Oh god please don’t let that have been for Reid,” JJ echoed exactly what the rest of us were thinking. We followed the sound, Hotch calling out his name as we ran towards it. Finally, we saw him, hunched over the dying body of Tobias Hankel. 

Hotch took off in a sprint, approaching Spencer first, placing a gentle hand on his arm before Spencer pulled him into a tearful hug. He did the same to JJ, until I finally moved into view. 

He looked like he’d been to hell and back. He could hardly support his own weight, he was sweating, bruised, and there was an open wound on his forehead. But I’d never been happier to see him. 

I wasted no time pulling him into a hug, finally not trying to keep the tears at bay. For a moment, neither of us said anything, we just held each other, both of us crying in the cold night air. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” I finally said, pulling back from the hug to look at his eyes. A small smile came over his face, and I’d never seen anything more beautiful. He was still crying, and I brought my hands up to cup his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He was very clearly out of it, and I guided him to put his arm around my shoulders, helping him walk back to the cars, whispering reassurances the entire way there. 

“Wait!” He protested, “I have to do something first.”

He turned back towards Tobias’ body, and I let him go, giving him a moment to do whatever it was he needed as he limped over to the corpse. I turned back to the team, noticing Hotch looking at me with curiosity. Seeing as the only person who knows about Spencer and I’s relationship was Emily, it didn’t really come as a shock that I’d be getting strange looks. But honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“He’s probably going to need to go to a hospital,” Hotch said. We nodded our agreement, knowing there was an ambulance waiting back at Tobias Hankel’s house. 

Spencer rejoined the group, and I helped him the rest of the way back to the car. I wanted nothing more than to hold him in the backseat, but there wasn’t enough space and I didn’t want to draw more suspicion by asking JJ to move. So I climbed into the front seat next to Derek, who was driving. He shot me a look, and I just shrugged, not confirming or denying anything. 

The drive back felt significantly shorter now that he was safe with us, and when we got back, we followed the ambulance to the hospital. Despite the fact that they definitely didn’t need an 8-person FBI escort to take Spencer into the hospital, Gideon didn’t even ask us whether or not we wanted to go. It was just assumed. 

We’d gathered in the waiting room, everyone waiting to hear the extent of what that monster put him through. I was sitting in the chair closest to the hall, and immediately sprang to my feet when I saw the doctor round the corner. 

“What all did he do to him?” I demanded. 

“He had a pretty nasty gash on his forehead that we had to stitch up,” He started, “And his face is pretty bruised. Same with the bottom of his left foot. It’s a miracle it wasn’t broken.”

We nodded along to him speaking, and he paused for a second before revealing the worst detail.

“We also found a series of needle marks on his right arm. Traces of Dilaudid were still in his system.”

We’d assumed they’d drugged him - he wouldn’t have seized the way he did if they hadn’t, not to mention that JJ found records of Tobias Hankel’s addiction to narcotics - but hearing confirmation made my chest tight. 

“What does that mean for him?” Hotch asked. 

“Well, Dilaudid is addictive. It’s a narcotic painkiller; you’ll want to keep an eye on him in the next couple of weeks and note any strange behaviors you might see him exhibiting.”

We all nodded our understanding, and the doctor wrapped up what he was saying.

“Other than that, he just needs rest. We gave him water and something to eat, so honestly the best thing for him right now is to go home, get a shower and get some sleep. He might have some trouble putting a lot of weight on his right foot, but there’s not really anything we can do for that because it isn’t actually broken, just badly bruised. We’re going to send him home with crutches, but someone might want to stay with him for tonight, if one of you is comfortable with that.”

“I’ll stay with him,” I offered before anyone else could open their mouths. Emily’s eyes snapped to mine, and I cleared my throat, trying not to sound too eager, “If he’s ok with that, of course. I’ll have to ask him.”

The doctor just nodded. “Sounds good. Whoever is in charge here can see the front desk for further information.”

Gideon started towards the front desk, gesturing for Hotch to follow him as they went to talk to some people, leaving me standing in front of Garcia, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ, all of whom were looking at me with varying looks of suspicion. Except Emily, who just looked vaguely amused.

“Anything you want to talk to us about, Glenn?” JJ asked. 

“Nothing at all,” I denied, trying to fight the small smile on my face. I could tell just by looking at them that they all knew, at this point it was hard not to at least assume. Not to mention they were all experts in human behavior - let’s just say it was hard to hide things from them. But JJ just shook her head with a shallow laugh, returning to her seat. However, she quickly stood back up when Spencer came around the corner, supporting his weight with a pair of plain gray crutches. 

“Spence,” She immediately crossed the room to him, looking him over with concern, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” He offered her a small smile, but it wasn’t real. We all knew it, and she pulled

him into a hug, being careful not to make him fall. 

“I should’ve never let you go off on your own. I’m so sorry -” She started to apologize, but he cut her off. 

“JJ, stop. It’s not your fault; splitting up was my idea. No one had any way of knowing what was going to happen. I mean, there was a 50-50 shot that either of us could’ve run into him, we had no evidence he’d even left the barn at all.”

She let out a shaky breath, nodding. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Me too.”

“We’re going to go back to the BAU so everyone can get their cars.”

He nodded his understanding, and he gave everyone a hug before Hotch and Gideon came back from the front desk. As much as he tried to appear normal, the events of the past two days hung heavy in the air. And we only knew what we saw on the videos, we had no idea the extent of what he’d gone through. I don’t know if we ever would. 

Even just the fact that he was hugging people was a testament to the way he was feeling. He usually didn’t even like to shake hands, but he was clinging to our friends like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. 

Hotch and Gideon rounded the corner, Hotch’s face softening the moment he saw Spencer, pulling him into another hug. 

“Alright, let’s get back to the BAU so you can go home and get some rest,” Gideon said. Spencer nodded, all of us piling back into the two vans we’d taken to Tobias Hankel’s house. JJ shot me a look before climbing into the passenger seat, allowing me to take her place in the back with Spencer, sitting shoulder to shoulder in the car. Once we started driving, I turned and whispered to him. 

“I wanted to come back home with you. Is that ok?” I asked. He gave me a small nod, and I smiled, giving his arm a squeeze. I desperately wanted to press a soft kiss to his lips, but I had already been way too physically affectionate with him today for us being at work. 

We all went our separate ways, though it was clear that everyone was reluctant to let Spencer out of their sight again. I reminded them I’d be with him, and promised that I’d update them once he fell asleep so they knew everyone was ok. It might’ve been selfish of me, but I was excited to be alone with him. I just wanted to be able to comfort him without having to worry about if everyone thought we were dating. 

To be fair, we technically weren’t dating. We’d never really defined the relationship.

We elected to take my car, since I was going to be driving. The more time we spent away from the group, the more I saw Spencer retreating. We walked to the car in silence, and he climbed in the passenger seat, zoning out staring through the windshield.

I reached over and gave his hand a light squeeze.

“I love you babe. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” I told him. He didn’t move his gaze, just squeezed my hand back in response before allowing me to return both hands to the wheel. We drove the rest of the way home with no sound but the radio turned down to a low volume. When I finally pulled into the parking lot for his apartment complex, he didn’t even blink. I turned the car off, going around to the other side to help him out of the car and into his apartment.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat? Or some water?” I offered as I unlocked the front door. He just shook his head.

“I just want to go to sleep.”

“You need to shower, Spencer.”

He nodded again, allowing me to lead him to the bathroom. 

“Do you think you can stand? Or do you want me to draw you a bath?” I asked. 

“Bath would be better,” He said, propping his crutches up against the sink. I knew he hadn’t broken his foot, but he still winced as he put more of his weight on it so that he could pull off his sweater and begin to unbutton the shirt he had on underneath it. 

“You’re ok with me being in here?” I had assumed he would be, but I wanted to clarify as he finished unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off. He just nodded, starting to undo his pants as I filled the bath with warm water. I shut the water off when it was filled enough that he could sit comfortably in it, and I held his arm, helping him sink into the warm water. 

“Do you want my help babe?” I asked. He nodded again, still not speaking. I didn’t try to press him with any conversation, I just slipped out of my work clothes and slid into the bath next to him, grabbing the washcloth from the side of the bathtub and dipping it in the warm water, lathering up the soap and starting to gently wash along his shoulders, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. He winced when I got to his wrists, and I noticed that the skin was rubbed raw, red from where he’d been restrained. I drew in a shaky breath, unsure of whether or not I was going to cry or punch someone. Instead, I just planted a soft kiss on his lips before washing down the rest of his body. 

I put the washcloth away and moved on to his hair, moving so that my chest was pressed to his back. I lathered the shampoo through his hair, and he sunk back against me, his eyes closing from the gentle touch. 

“You’re safe with me, baby. I’ve got you,” I whispered reassurances in his ear, trying to help him relax as I finished cleaning him up. “How’s your head?”

My eyes had flashed up to the bandaged gash on his forehead, and I reached one hand up to gently brush his hair back away from it. He had opened his eyes now, just staring at the water, not really here. His voice was barely above a whisper, and it broke my heart. 

“It hurts,” He murmured.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” I said, holding him closer to me as if it could somehow soothe his pain, both physically and mentally. “I am so, so sorry that this happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

“Didn’t I?”

The question took me by surprise, and I didn’t even have a chance to protest before he elaborated.

“I abandoned my mother. I could’ve helped her - I mean, I could’ve learned to help her. Instead I sent her away… he told me to confess my sins. And when I thought of my sins, all I could see was her face. I left her, Aria.”

“Spencer. Look at me.” I lightly put my hand under his chin, guiding him to meet my eyes. “Your mother needed help from a medical professional, someone who was specialized in understanding her condition. You didn’t abandon her - Spencer, you helped her. It’s not a sin to get someone the help that they need.”

“I know that. Logically, I know that. But…”

He trailed off, but he didn’t need to say anymore. I just nodded.

“I know, baby. But you didn’t deserve what Hankel did to you. You’re a good person, Spencer Reid. One of the best I know, and I’m not just saying that because I’m in love with you. You really are an incredible man, and,” I bit my lip, forcing back the tears that were stinging my eyes, “And you deserved so much better than this.”

He didn’t reply, he just leaned forward, kissing me again. It was harder this time, like he was putting all his feelings into moving his lips against mine. I kissed him back with just as much emotion, trying to tell him how much I loved him without saying anything at all. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me for a moment.

“Spencer, you have no idea how grateful I am for you.”

“And I for you,” He replied semi-dramatically, making me grin and bringing a small smile to his face. It wasn’t much, but it was something positive. 

“Alright Shakespeare, let me get dried off and then I’ll help you out,” I teased, grabbing my towel off the hook and drying my damp hair before wrapping it around myself and grabbing his hand, helping him up and guiding him to lean up against the sink while I grabbed his towel and offered it to him. 

“I don’t even have the energy to correct the historical inaccuracy of your Shakespeare joke,” He said, drying himself off as I left the bathroom to grab pajamas from his dresser. I grabbed him one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, and I grabbed myself one of his sweaters, slipping it on before going back into the bathroom and giving him the clothes I’d grabbed, hanging my towel back up as he changed.

When I turned back, he’d put on the pajamas, and was in the process of grabbing his crutches. With every move, his expression changed, betraying just how much pain he was in. I put my hand on his shoulder, supporting him as he made his way back out to his room, immediately sitting down on the bed and letting the crutches fall to the ground. 

“Son of a bitch,” He muttered. I just sat down next to him, putting my arm around him so he could lean his head on my shoulder. 

“Hey. You’re alright,” I held him close to me, rubbing his shoulder in a slight comfort. 

“I’m tired,” He yawned, and I nodded. 

He stretched out on the bed behind me, and I scooted over next to him, pulling the comforter over both of us. 

“Can I hold you, baby?” I asked. He nodded, and I curled up against him, holding him tight to my chest. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck from behind, feeling his steady breathing against me. 

It didn’t really surprise me when I felt his breathing pick up - I assumed his mind would probably wander once he had quiet time to think - but it made my heart wrench when I heard him crying softly. 

“Spencer…” I pulled him closer to me, running one hand through his hair and placing soft kisses along his jawline, trailing down his neck. There was nothing sexual about it, simply gentle affection as he cried. 

He rolled over suddenly so he was facing me, immediately crushing me in a tight hug, crying openly into my shoulder. I continued to run one of my hands through his hair, the other gently tracing slow circles on his back under his shirt, trying to ground him as he attempted to process everything he’d gone through. 

“You’re safe with me baby. I’m never letting anything happen to you again, I promise.”

“You can’t make a promise like that,” He argued through his tears, “No one can make a promise like that. You know our line of work; there’s no way you can ensure my safety.”

“That’s true,” I conceded, “But as long as I have any say in it, I will protect you. And that’s a promise.”

His crying had quieted, and he sniffled, nodding into my shoulder. I kept him close to me, and eventually he drifted off to sleep, tears still staining his face. 

[random-mha-thoughts]

Bully Part 2 (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff, slight angst, Baku-having-feelings-and-being-soft (bc that's totally a genre)

Sequel to Bully (part 1)

Word count: 2,319

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: This ended up being longer and slightly more emotional than I expected.  Seems like I’m following the trend of getting the BNHA boys to say what’s really on their minds (I’ve already done this for Todoroki in case you were wondering), so Baku will be ooc and soft here.

This came out later than I intended because...let’s just say I was having a mental breakdown over a really long and really naughty Todo fic here and I ended up calling my little cousin and crying and laugh-crying and shaking and losing my collective mind because none of my friends would know what I was going through.  And I was in no headspace to write fluff afterwards, she had to force fluff headcanons into me to go back to normal.  Yall should thank her.  Enjoy~

None of us had any idea how or why Bakugou suddenly started acting this way.  Apparently, he was completely normal until I walked in.  All I did was open the door to the classroom, my gaze just so happened to land on Bakugou, and suddenly I heard loud stomps towards me.

I held out a defensive hand, ready to shoot out branches at him if he got too close.  "Bakugou-" I threatened.  And he did the unthinkable.  He gripped me in a choke hold around my shoulders and neck.

Actually, no.  He...hugged me?

My clenched fists and the hush that fell over the rest of the students told me this is the first time all day he's done something out of character, something I definitely wasn't expecting.  We hadn't talked since I almost jumped out of a window last week.  This entire week, he was ignoring me.  I was preparing for the day he would finally confront me, and I pictured it would be an aggressive encounter.

This is far from anything I'd imagined.

I never ever thought this porcupine-head could even show affection, that he even has a single gene of softness in him.  Yet he was embracing me tightly, nuzzling his face in my neck.  The shock of it all made me freeze up and cast a sideways glance at Midoriya, who was just as freaked and confused.

"Get off, Bakugou, what are you-"

The boy lifted his head up, his scarlet eyes softened into fondness and a gentle smile on his lips made the rest of my words catch in my throat.  This entire expression was foreign to all of us.  His face can look like that?

"I missed you over the weekend."

My jaw dropped.  HIS VOICE CAN SOUND LIKE THAT??  The smooth and sweet honey tone was way out of character for him.

But like hell I trusted any of this.

I wiggled my arms up to push his weight off me.  "I don't know how you managed to become such a great actor," I succeeded in separating from his vice grip, "But if you think disorienting me like this can be some sort of revenge, you're sorely mistaken."

Bakugou tilted his head, resembling a sad puppy.  "What do you mean?"

I straightened my uniform.  "Nice try, I know you're just acting so you can, like, throw me off the building or something."

That seemed to hurt him, his jaw gaping open before holding my face in his calloused hands.  "I'd never do that to you."

I quickly swatted his hands away, wary that he was about to blow my face off.  "Don't. Touch. Me."

The boy froze in place, then rubbed the back of his neck.  Regret seeped through his eyes as he stared at the ground.  "I'm sorry, about everything."

A strange warmth rushed through me.  Something about how genuinely vulnerable he looked shook my entire being.

"I just...really wanted you to give me a chance all this time, but I went about it the wrong way."  He encased me into another bone-crushing hug.  "But I want to make up for it."

I felt a thud in my chest,  probably from fear that he might hurt me.

At that moment, the teacher walked in.  "Alright everyone, take your seats."  He noticed Bakugou's position, gawked for a second, and cleared his throat.  "Uh, Bakugou, let go of (L/n) and take your seat."

"I dare any of you extras to yank me off, I'll blast you into next week!"

He's back, kind of?

Nobody made a move to do anything, they were all frozen by the sight of Bakugou clamped onto me like a koala.

"I'll survive...somehow," I assured them, unsure myself how exactly I would do that.

For the entire rest of class, the boy clung onto me.  He had taken over the seat of the person who normally sat on my left and scooted the chair over so he can stay attached to me.  Though I reasoned for him to hold onto just my arm (since he wouldn't let go no matter how many times I asked), he hugged my waist with both of his arms, face buried in my neck.  I was just glad he left one arm for me to write notes with.

If this was just an act, he did a splendid job of keeping it up.  I thought he would've given up after an hour or two, but he stayed like that even after lunch until the end of the day.  Anytime anyone would even walk past us, he would glare at them until they scurried off.

It was super weird at first, but I got used to the arrangement somehow.  I hate to admit it, but I even felt comfort by his warmth.  His breath tickled my neck as his solid arms held me in a vice grip.  I found myself hoping this wasn't acting, and thanking whatever miracle made this happen.  This was never going to happen again, I might as well enjoy it for now.

.

"Back off, you damn Deku!"  He bares his teeth at the cowering Midoriya, still attached to me at the hip.

I sigh, finally fed up with this whole ordeal.  "Midoriya, I'll handle this, I'll call later."

The poor broccoli boy nods and scampers away from us.  Bakugou insists on not letting go until I'm home safe, even when I repeated that I live in the opposite direction as him.  He won't even let Midoriya near me.

I lead us both over to a bench outside of school.  I'm still not convinced that this isn't an act, but I might as well try to talk to him after the incident last week.  "Get off," I order, scooting over to one side of the bench.  When he doesn't obey, I add, "I wanna talk, so I need to see your face."

After a brief moment of hesitation, he eases off my body, rolling up to sit facing me with a leg propped up on the seat.  A dumb smile is on his face.

God, that still freaks me out.  I stare at him calculatingly.  He hasn't said a word to me the whole day, only barking at other students as he holds onto me.  I want answers.  "You're sure this isn't some stupid revenge plot to get back at me?"

He shakes his head, propping his arm up on the seat and resting his head there.  His wordless, lovestruck stare probing me.

I sputter, "Why are you acting this way then?"

"I like you."

I almost choke at his quick response, my chest throbbing again.  "S-Stop looking at me that way, I can't take you seriously!  I admit, it's freaking me out!"

"My feelings freak you out?" he says sweetly, brushing the side of my face softly.

I slap his hand away, "You don't have feelings for me, just drop the act already!"

His smile disappears.  "It's not an act, I'm being serious."  Hurt laces his voice.

I cross my arms over my chest.  "Yeah, well, it's very hard to take you seriously when you've been a heartless, pompous, mean jerk for all of middle school."

Bakugou's eyes downcast and his arm falls into his lap.  "I...I don't know how else to show how I feel."  Raw emotion drips from his eyes as he bites his lip, almost like he's gathering his thoughts.  "I act like a jerk because...  I just feel so pressured.  Everyone expects so much of me just because my quirk is so strong."  A dark chuckle emits from him, "Even my mom has ingrained it in me that I need to be strong so I don't burden anyone with being weak.  So I've been projecting my frustrations onto everyone else.  Deku is just the easiest person to pick on because he's the weakest person, he has no quirk!  And I'm just self-centered because I have to tell myself that I'm strong or else...I might slip.  Call it an inferiority complex, I guess."

I won't lie, I didn't go into this expecting a therapy session.  Part of me does sympathize with him, but the rational side of me is still skeptical of this entire monologue being an act.  I wouldn't put it past him for thinking up such an elaborate plan in a week.  And none of it excuses him for telling Midoriya to kill himself.  "Not that I don't believe you, but so what?" I blurt out.

He grabs my hand in both of his, eyes fully emotional and staring into mine.  "I like you, (Y/n).  I see how kind you are to everyone else, how you've stayed by Deku and supported him this entire time.  I admire you.  You're the kind of person who I know would become a great hero because you always know just what to say to people to make them feel better, not to mention you're so badass too.  And...in a way, there's something in me that wants you to care about an idiot like me, too."

Tightness tugs in my chest.  Damn it, he needs to stop being so emotional, I can't handle it.  "I want to help you, Katsuki, but what you said to Midoriya crossed a line.  I can't overlook that."

His head drops onto our joined hands and his body starts shaking.  "Damnit!" he grits out, "I can't believe I've done so much wrong that the person I like can't even forgive me."

I shut my eyes, not wanting to see him cry.  "Katsuki-"

Bakugou's head snaps up and takes my head between his hands.  "Do you even have the smallest feeling for me?"  His red orbs swim in tears.

A soft spot in my heart persuades me to gently rub the wet trails off his cheeks.  "I'm...not sure."  I won't lead him on, I really don't know how I feel anymore.  It's that I hate him, I don't like the things he says or does.

"Help me, (Y/n)," he practically begs, "I'll become a better person, I promise, but I need you to guide me, please."

This sudden magnitude of emotion other than anger disorients me.  Is this something he's kept locked away somewhere in the recesses of his mind?  I absently nod in agreement against some of my better judgement.

His shaking form steadies as he stares me down quietly.  "Can I...kiss you?" he whispers out of the blue.

My lips slightly part and my eyes widen as he leans into me, softly pressing his mouth against mine.  Our kiss is innocent, as if time just stood still and washed a warm glow on us.  My stomach flips weightlessly, and I gently grip one of his wrists to ground me.  He pulls away just for a moment, letting us linger in the moment and sensation of one another.

His eyes flutter open, facing me with the same loveliness he's showed me all day, before confusion suddenly dawns on him, and then his cheeks color red and he pulls away, almost retreating to the other edge of the bench.

I blink, not sure what just happened, but the tumbling in my abdomen still present.  "Uh...Bakugou...?"

The boy doesn't even want to face me.  "Did I really just do that?" he mutters to himself, the raspy growl that's more characteristic of him returning.

My heart sinks.  "Do you-?"

"Hey, don't look so upset," he glares at me before flushing again.  "I...somehow...know everything I did...  It was me...but it wasn't...really me."

"But everything you said-"

He growls and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away from me.  "Everything I said was true!  I just... I'm surprised I did it, and I was such a pansy about it."

I roll my eyes.  He's back, for real this time.  "Well, if that's the case, I won't hold you accountable-"

"Wait," Bakugou sighs, running a hand through his hair.  "I stand by everything I said, even the whole...thing...about you helping me."  It almost hurts him to say it.

I fold my arms over my chest and stand up.  "You don't have to force yourself to be good if you don't want to.  Things can go back to the way they were."

"I don't want it to!" he yells.  "I'll work at being less of an idiot if it means...that you'll...go out with me."

I examine him, all red-faced and uncomfortable, unable to look me in the eyes.  "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

He stands up and finally garners the courage to look at me again.  "I'm willing.  I'll try hard, I promise."

After thinking it over a moment, I relax my figure and place a kiss on his cheek.  "That's your reward for consciously admitting that you have a problem."

Bakugou's eyes bulge out of his head and I have to suppress my chuckles.  "Will there be more rewards?" he mumbles.

"Only if you really try."  I lean forward, catching him off guard and finally letting out a small fit of laughter.  "You know for most of the day, you were hanging onto me like I was you handbag, now you're shying away from me."

He scratches his burning neck.  "Hey, that wasn't me."

"It was a you that probably showed your deepest darkest wants," I tease, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Sh-Shut up, don't be so smug about it!"  He lightly shoves me away, digging his hands into his uniform pants pocket.  "You're the one asking for it because you liked it, stupid."

"Ah-ah," I hold up a finger like a teacher reprimanding a kindergardener.  "First thing is for you to stop calling people names."

He groans.  "Fine.  (Y-Y/n)."  His cheeks color all over again.

I slip my hand in his and his blush intensifies.  "Was that so hard to do?"

"Shut up," he mumbles softer this time.

He's a fixer-upper, he's still got a lot to learn, but hopefully, he'll get there eventually.

[bytheangell]

You Can’t Keep Safe What Wants to Break - Chapter 2, Alec

(AO3) (Prologue) (Chapter 1 - Magnus) (Chapter 2 - Alec Lightwood)

Alec’s first thought is that Jace came here to talk with him about something, and was killing time with Magnus before Alec got home. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened, with Jace showing up unannounced to discuss the details of a mission or the potential of a new recruit. That thought is gone as immediately as it arrives because Alec knows the look on Jace’s face, it’s the one he has when he breaks a rule or goes against orders and is about to confess to something.

Something’s wrong. Confirmation of that suspicion comes when there’s an immediate tension in their bond the second Magnus is gone and it’s just the two of them. The emotions are strong, stronger than he’s felt from Jace’s end of the bond in a very long time.

The only time Jace opens the bond fully like this is when he thinks he might need his emotions to speak for him. It’s happened a few times in the past when he couldn’t find the words so he let their connection do the talking for him. It works, and it works well, but it’s almost never for anything good. That realization puts Alec on edge, which he’s certain Jace can feel just as clearly.

Neither of them says anything for a long while.

“We need to talk,” Jace says, finally. Alec’s brows knit together, and he can’t help the startled laugh that escapes his lips at the phrasing. He knows it’s just his own nerves clinging to anything to lighten the heavy mood, something to break up the fear and uncertainty over whatever this is, and while he can’t stop the inappropriate reaction, he manages to look apologetic afterward.

“Sorry, it just sounds like you’re about to break up with me,” Alec explains.

Jace looks like Alec slapped him in the face instead of making a bad joke. The forced smile that follows Alec’s awkward laugh fades immediately. Jace, not taking the opportunity for the easy out of a little deflection? Definitely bad.

“Okay, you’re starting to scare me now. What is it?” Alec prompts, aware that they’re both still standing in the middle of the entrance hallway, but unwilling to move a step until he knows what he’s walking into.

“By the Angel, how am I going to do it if I can’t even say the words to you,” Jace mutters to himself, but Alec picks up most of it. There’s another pause, then Jace seems to straighten, steeling himself for whatever it is he came here to say. This is unlike him, Alec notes. Jace rarely has a problem speaking what’s on his mind, not to Alec or to anyone else.

Just another small detail that leaves Alec even more on edge.

“Alec, I need you to know… you have to understand how difficult this is for me to even consider, let alone-” Jace’s words keep breaking off, thoughts jumping haphazardly from one to the other as if he’s so overwhelmed he can’t think straight. Alec notices that Jace is actually shaking a little, the barely-there tremors in his hands and legs something most would be able to overlook, but not Alec.

The observation breaks him from where he stands and he moves forward, wrapping an arm gently around his Parabatai. “Let’s sit down, huh?” Alec suggests, leading Jace towards the sofa in the living room. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, and we can figure it out together. We always have before, right?”

Alec can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Jace this beside himself. Jace is one step away from breaking down entirely and Alec wants to do whatever he can to keep that from happening… which would be a hell of a lot easier if he knew what any of this is about.

Jace allows Alec to guide him over to the sofa and seems to collapse into it rather than simply sitting down. “I knew this would be difficult, but…”

“Should I make us some tea? Coffee?” Alec offers, then pauses. “Whiskey?”

“No,” Jace shakes his head. “I just need to say it and get it over with and… and then probably whiskey, yeah,” Jace decides. Jace takes a steadying breath and Alec watches him gather himself the best he can, not that perfect composure is something either of them can fake at this point. Alec continues to feel that growing fear over whatever’s on Jace’s mind that’s so awful he doesn’t think Alec will understand, when Alec’s done nothing but support and stand by him their entire lives.

“What happened?” Alec asks finally, sitting down across from Jace.

“Nothing,” Jace says. “...yet. I’m going to put in a request to be deruned.”

Alec’s immensely grateful to already be sitting down as the air seems to leave his body all at once like a swift punch to the gut. He isn’t sure how much of it is his own shock and how much is the churning turmoil he feels from Jace through their bond, but combined it leaves him dazed for a few long moments.

“Jace…” Alec starts, but his words fail him, too. Alec searches Jace’s eyes, looks deep into the steely resolution they hold, then he reaches into their bond and finds that the distress isn’t over his decision, but over anticipation of Alec’s reaction to the decision. This isn’t Jace making an impulsive decision in some fit of desperation or despair. “How did I not realize?”

Of course, Jace is sad, upset a little more often than usual, especially around times he’d be with Clary, but it never felt like anything Alec should be worried about. It certainly never felt like the sort of unhappiness that might prompt something this drastic.

“I hid it well,” Jace admits. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, or at least mostly sure.”

Alec can’t even be mad, not when he spent the better part of their youth hiding his own darker emotions. He’s lost track of how many times Jace didn’t realize how upset Alec was over something until he came across him bruised and bleeding in the training room.

“So this is you telling me, then? Your mind is absolutely made up and there’s no chance that I can talk you out of it?” Alec asks, well aware of how close to pleading his tone turns at the question. Because he does want to talk Jace out of it. Of course he does, how could he not?

“I’m not going to stop you from trying,” Jace says. “But I don’t think you can. Alec, you know me better than anyone-”

“I thought I did,” Alec mutters, then immediately winces at the harshness of his own words.

“You do,” Jace insists. “And you know me well enough to know that the option wouldn’t even be on the table if I saw any other way forward.”

Alec can think of a dozen ways forward. Ways where Jace stays with him, by his side the way they’re meant to be. There have to be options where Jace finds someone else and settles down and maybe things aren’t perfect but they’re enough. At least, Alec thought they’d be enough. He thought he’d be enough.

“You really can’t let her go, can you?” Alec can’t help but ask, already knowing the answer.

“Tell me you wouldn’t do the same if the alternative meant losing Magnus forever,” Jace counters.

“That’s not…” Alec tries to argue that it isn’t the same, but it’s close enough. He’s tempted to lie and say he wouldn’t make this exact decision, but he would. He’d been two seconds away from turning himself into a vampire for Magnus, absolutely willing to stay behind in Edom with him, both of which are arguably worse than a de-runing, and which would’ve broken their parabatai bond over a decision Alec was willing to make without any forethought. Could he really stand here and say that was different, that him being willing to do anything for Magnus was somehow more justified than Jace being willing to do anything for Clary after thinking it through and considering all the options first?

“Fuck,” Alec says, shock still coloring his words and evident in his wide, hazel eyes. Alec realizes he was foolish to think that Jace would let this go with the Clave’s final ruling. Of course not allowing Clary into their lives wouldn’t stop Jace from making his way into her life instead. And on some level, Alec knows it’s unfair, but he realizes he expected Jace to choose him over her. To choose all of them, their friends, their family, their entire way of life, over Clary.

“Fuck,” Alec repeats.

“Yeah,” Jace agrees. “Fuck.”

Without saying another word Alec stands and walks over to the drink cart, pouring two very generous portions of whiskey before walking back to the sofa and setting one down on the table in front of Jace.

“If you don’t want it I’ll drink both,” Alec informs him, but Jace is already reaching for the glass.

Alec downs half of his glass in one go, wincing with every bit of liquid that burns its way down his throat. He pauses to glance down at it, then immediately stands back up to fill it again. He’s stalling. He knows he’s stalling, and so does Jace, who holds his own cup but doesn’t drink from it. The silence draws out between them, Jace waiting for Alec to react and Alec not trusting himself to.

This is so much to process, and Alec can sense how anxious Jace is in this moment with him. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but at the same time, he can’t imagine what the right thing is. Nothing feels right to him, not now.

“Say something,” Jace pleads.

“Who else have you told?” Alec asks finally. He knows that isn’t what they should be talking about, but it’s safer to start there while he tries to wrap his head around everything he’s thinking and feeling.

“Just Magnus, right before you got back. I figured if anyone could impart some sagely, ancient wisdom on the idea it’d be him.” Jace grows contemplative. “I was right.”

“And what did he say?” Alec is genuinely curious now.

“That true love is worth the risk,” Jace says, hesitating before looking up at Alec to meet his gaze before continuing. “And that he thinks you’ll want to see me happy enough to come around to the idea in the end.”

“He’s got more faith in me than I do,” Alec says. “I’m sorry, Jace. Of course I want you to be happy. And I think it’s bullshit that they won’t let Clary back into the Institute, or let her train again. But I felt our bond break once before, and it was the single worst thing I’ve ever experienced. I don’t want to go through that ever again… I don’t want to feel that loss for the rest of my life. I can’t.”

“Alec-”

“I don’t know what you want from me here, Jace,” Alec snaps before Jace has a chance to say anything more. “Do you want me to be happy about this? Should I drop everything to go help you draw up the request papers so you can leave us as soon as possible? Maybe I should have Magnus throw you a going-away party when he gets back.”

“That isn’t fair,” Jace says. Alec hates how sad and broken the words sound, he hates that he’s the reason for it.

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Alec agrees, but even as he speaks the words his tone and expression shift from bitter to something closer to remorse. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think you’d do it. I always knew the option was there, that it was a possibility, but I never imagined you’d go through with it. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe you could because it was easier that way. Maybe I’m just upset that I let it blindside me when I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it coming.”

Now that he says it out loud, Alec knows that’s what upsets him the most at the heart of it. That he allowed himself to believe for even a minute that the Clave’s decision to not allow Clary back into their world would be the end of it. Even with the sadness he’s felt through the bond, the longing that only fades when Jace is around Clary for what short periods of time he manages to steal away for, Alec somehow expected Jace to just live with that sadness for the rest of his life when there was something he could do about it.

“Can I be honest?” Jace asks after another long silence.

The question concerns Alec, given everything else they’ve said so far. They’ve been nothing but honest, and Alec can’t imagine what more Jace could be holding back from him. Alec gives a small nod before Jace continues.

“I’m fucking terrified, Alec. We’ve faced demons, Greater Demons, traveled to Edom… and in all my life, this is the most afraid I’ve ever felt, looking out into this unknown.”

Alec isn’t sure what to say to that, but he hasn’t been sure of what to say to anything else, either, and the silence isn’t cutting it anymore. Praying he doesn’t keep making things worse, Alec decides to allow himself to just speak what’s on his mind and hope for the best. “Then why do it?”

“Because I’ve always been afraid of the way Clary makes me feel. I’ve always been afraid of allowing myself to be honest, to follow my heart instead of that voice in the back of my head reminding me that all love does is destroy. If I held myself back every time I was afraid I wouldn’t have you or Izzy. I wouldn’t have a family with Maryse and Robert and Max, or be friends with Simon and Maia. I can’t let that fear stop me from being with Clary. From a chance at happiness.”

A chance. Alec can’t imagine risking everything, leaving a life he’d never be welcomed back into, just for a chance at happiness as a mundane.

Can he?

‘Tell me you wouldn’t do the same if the alternative meant losing Magnus forever’. Jace’s words come back to him again, filling his thoughts with their undeniable truth.

Of course he would. He could pretend that was different, but it wasn’t. He met Magnus at the same time Jace met Clary. And hadn’t Alec been ready to give up everything for Magnus when he walked down that aisle without knowing how his family and friends would react? Without even knowing if Magnus intended to be anything more than a passing fling?

Alec wishes he could keep his thoughts from spiraling, but they’re all over the place, jumping around from one memory to another, grasping at something solid he can latch onto while everything around him feels so unsteady.

“Remember when I moved in with Magnus?” Alec asks suddenly. “Me not living at the Institute was the farthest apart we’d been since you moved in with us, and you were so worried the distance would drive us apart and you were going to lose me.”

“You won’t lose me, Alec.”

“But I will. You’re part of my soul, Jace. This isn’t just moving away!”

“I’m not going anywhere you won’t be able to call, or visit. I mean, look at Maryse. Laws be damned, we see her all the time. She’s come to the Institute. I don’t plan on changing my name and living some secret life - this is me and Clary we’re talking about. We want you in our lives as much as you want to stay in ours.” Jace hesitates there. “You do, don’t you? I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t.”

“Of course I do,” Alec reassures him without missing a beat.

That’s when it hits him.

That’s when Alec knows that no matter what, he is going to stand by Jace in whatever he chooses to do - because he can’t imagine not being a part of his life, whatever part that might be. It may take him a little while to come to terms with the decision, but he will come to terms with it.

“Okay,” Alec breathes out the word after a deep breath.

“Okay?” Jace’s fingers tap the rim of his glass nervously.

“Okay,” Alec confirms. “For the record, I still hate it. And I wish you wouldn’t. But I get it, too. So if this is what you want - if this is what you need - then I’m not letting you go through it alone.”

Jace’s reaction is immediate as tears begin to stream down his cheeks despite his eyes squinting closed just as quickly. Alec shifts on the sofa to wrap his arms around Jace. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, with Jace crying into his shoulder and Alec reassuring him that nothing, not even this, can tear them apart. Eventually, Jace’s shaking subsides and he pulls back, eyes red.

“Thank you,” Jace says.

It isn’t Jace’s gratitude or the first hint of a smile that’s crossed Jace’s face all night that tells Alec he’s making the right decision. No, it’s the bone-deep relief he feels now in the aftermath of their conversation. It’s the weight lifted from the back of his mind, the weight he knows is similarly lifted from Jace.

It’s that moment in which Alec knows there are some things you simply aren’t meant to hold onto forever.

[live-long-and-time-warp]

It’s hard to leave your toxic friends... but it’s so worth it

I don’t normally do this, but as I sat in a Saturday morning meeting thinking about all of the things I felt this past Friday, I felt compelled to share my story.

A brief background: throughout college and for several years afterward, I considered my tight-knit group of college friends as some of my closest. In addition to my best friend of 20 years, some friends from high school, my work team, and some other dear friends scattered across the globe and throughout the U.S., this group of college friends was who I considered to be my foundation. This group of friends was extremely important to me, but it was not without its bumps in the road.

In my senior year of college, I had a falling out with one of these friends, the ringleader I’ll call her. I say this because she is quite honestly the source of 95% of my problems with this group. She is a master manipulator, and an expert gaslighter. There were a few others that contributed to this too, but she was by far the worst.

I can’t elaborate on every single thing that this person said and did over our 7 year “friendship” but a brief summary would be: asking me point blank if I thought I might be a lesbian after coming out as bi (to this friend group and in her presence, I might add) only several months prior; asking me how much money I spend on books about “Chernobyl” every month with the implication that she’s concerned about my finances; telling me that my resume may not be as impressive as I think it is (I’m the deputy director of a nonprofit with both state-based and national projects and had been for close to a year prior to this conversation); would clean up the crumbs from in front of me while I was still eating and comment on my messiness; told me that one of our mutual friends doesn’t like discussing politics with me because I get too fired up (again, I work for a nonprofit that deals with social justice); telling me that crying while comforting my friend who had just lost a loved one to suicide after they began crying was weird and that I “stole her thunder” (we were slightly drunk, I’m an empath, and she was talking about some deeply personal things that moved me and crying was my natural response... and oddly, she was appreciative of my tears because I was “the only person that actually stayed with her”); and so much more that I know I’m forgetting.

There were many other things more insidious, including gaslighting me about my inclusion in several group activities and why it should have been obvious why one friend disliked me enough to not invite me to her wedding after years of claiming cluelessness.

In our senior year, I left that friend for the first time after she humiliated me at a party by commenting loudly and with condescension on my weight. When I cut ties with her, I felt as if I had just left an abusive relationship, and for a while I didn’t want to seek a friendship with her again.

But the other friends in our group still hung out with both of us, so eventually I allowed myself to be sucked back in. 

In the years after we graduated, I thought that this person had actually changed- I worked abroad for a year after college, and after returning I saw a marked difference in her demeanor and how she interacted with us. She seemed more self-aware of how her words and actions adversely affected other people, and I thought that maybe the ugliness of that horrible portion of my senior year was now just a faded scar.

But then things escalated very quickly. Over the course of several weeks at the beginning of this year, I started to feel myself questioning whether I had made the right choice in rejoining the group: I was so sure of how I felt after I left it the first time, I felt so empowered and free. So why did I allow myself to rejoin them? Was it really the right choice?

I got my answer a week after the insurrection at the Capitol. One friend who already had a history of saying hateful things about women (which I tried to put a stop to to no avail) finally went full white supremacist asshole, and instead of joining me in calling his comments unacceptable and defending me as he mansplained my job to me, the ringleader criticized me and told me that “I can work in activism and politics and be wrong”.

That’s the moment I finally woke up.

I left the chat that very moment. Every time they added me back without my consent, I left again.

Every time I got message from the ringleader that was full of gaslighting comments and false apologies, I didn’t say a word. Just deleted the message. Finally, I was able to gather the strength needed to block those toxic friends from all social media and my phone. One of these friends was someone I tried to make like me for years after I was told that she hated me for no reason, by her own admission.

Some may not agree with this approach, but I made the choice to cut contact and go radio silent on my own after consulting my friends, specifically my best friend who had been there for me during the incident my senior year.

As weeks went by, some of the true friends from that group reached out, and then immediately backed off after my polite request for space, indicating that I was welcome back at any time and they were always here for me.

The ringleader chose the opposite approach. She continued to gaslight me, made a group chat with myself, the white supremacist, and herself. She sent me messages from her second account, one that I remembered to unfriend but forgot to block. She told me that if I don’t “course correct” by a certain date she would block me on my account (too late, bro) and that “we wish you all the best”. This implies that it was on behalf of the entire group, something I know three of them would never do. However, at this point, I have had to distance myself from all of those friends so as not to give the ringleader the attention she wants from me.

I lost over half of my closest friends over night. It felt like my skeleton had been torn from my body. I considered giving in several times and reaching out to them. But now, over a month later, I understand how necessary it was to excise what was essentially a malignant tumor. The Chernobyl researcher in me wants to compare it to Acute Radiation Syndrome (ARS): an unseen poison that slowly infiltrates every part of your mind and body and rots them from the inside out.

2020 was an extremely hard year for me, as it was for so many. I am so lucky and privileged to have been in the financial situation that I was and had the support of my genuine friends and family.

But it was still the worst year of my life. I have suffered from pretty bad OCD for most of my life, and while I usually keep it under control, last year it became nearly impossible to do so. I also fell very deeply into clinical depression, and worked to the point of burn out and exhaustion. The primary thoughts I had during this depression were: 

“Why aren’t you working? You’re lazy.”

“You’re a failure, you’re 26 and haven’t applied to grad school yet.”

“You piece of shit, still living with your parents? What a disappointment.”

“What is wrong with you?”

It was unbearable. I’m honestly not entirely sure how I survived it, but I think a certain 3-year-old goddaughter of mine and a few close, real friends had something to do with it.

I worked very hard with my friends, a therapist, and a psychiatrist to overcome this depression and get my OCD back under control. Now, I feel like such a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I still have depression, and the OCD will always be with me (like a bad habit... literally?); but I am so much more happy with myself and my life, as I should be.

And I am very, very, very well aware that therapy was not the only reason I have recently begun feeling this way. It’s very hard to see that you’re being manipulated while it’s happening. Because of my trusting nature, sometimes manipulative comments would be interpreted as heartfelt guidance.

It wasn’t until I started the journey away from them that I saw just how much this group and their negativity (because even the best of them weren’t always the kindest) impacted my mental health.

The event that made me want to share this story is this: yesterday was a rough work day. As a full-time community organizer, I am pretty much burnt out all of the time. Breaks are taken, but with projects addressing issues from COVID relief to systemic racism and police brutality, it never feels like enough. 

I had to officially take a step back as a sole lead on an annual event that I organized for two years, and it was gut-wrenching.

Now, I cry often, but I don’t usually get to have therapeutic cries. You know what I mean? Like, as you cry, all of the tension that built up in your body by negative feelings is finally being released with every breath and sob?

Well, the dam finally broke in a team meeting on Friday. I started sobbing and couldn’t stop. And my colleagues were so, so kind. They let me vent, they let me cry, they would not accept my apologies for crying. They told me that I was strong for setting up boundaries, and that they were here for me.

We spent a lot of time at the end of the meeting each talking about our self-care routines. And as I sit here typing this, I am actively trying not to cry at the purity of their support.

This experience has taught me what real friends are. Real friends do not put limitations on your emotions and fears.

Real friends do not give you deadlines for processing your feelings.

Real friends do not criticize you for things that, while they may not agree with, do not affect anyone’s health or marginalize anyone.

Real friends don’t marginalize vulnerable communities.

Real friends help and support you with constructive criticism (when it’s asked for) and love, not patronization and manipulation.

I thought I knew all of these things before, but I know now that I am still learning... and that that is perfectly okay. I don’t regret most of the times we shared together. I am appreciative of the positive memories that their friendships gave me.

Three of the friends in this group are actually good people, and maybe one day when the dust is settled I’ll reach out to them and establish one-on-one friendships with them (if they want to). 

And I have to thank my real friends, including @tryingtobealwaystrying, for all saying the exact same thing: you deserve so much happiness and fuck all of those guys.

So, the point of this post is to tell everyone this: you can leave your toxic friends. It’s incredibly difficult, stressful, and honestly traumatizing. And there’s no shame in needing time or feeling unable to leave those friends now. There’s also no shame in returning to those friends.

But please know, from this nerd to the reader: anyone that makes you feel any less than the beautiful, amazing human being you are and doesn’t want to help you become an even better human on your own terms is not a true friend. They don’t deserve you or the light you can bring into their lives.

And every agonizing step away from those friends is a step closer to a happier, healthier life.

[twiceblackvelvet]

hi

forgive me for the long post, i’m still trying to gather my thoughts on this situation but i’m going to do my best to address the most common issues people bring to me because clearly my intentions are being misconstrued, have become confused for some of you and people attempted to put a lot of words into my mouth last night that i never stated.

i’m also not the best at explaining myself at times but i am going to do my best to offer my own perspective as well as insight into my thinking, so if anyone is confused by anything detailed here, you can simply ask me in a polite manner and i will talk about it with you.

tw // mentions of anxiety, transphobia, self harm, suicide, harassment

i have for a long time discussed my dislike of this community when i first joined it. i thought that the big accounts were all in cliques together, not willing to help anyone and that they just never really cared about much except issues regarding themselves. i’ve also talked about how i personally did not want to be like that as i am unable to just simply “ignore” things i see happening, in fact, i struggle to let go of them as i do tend to hyperfixate on negative situations where i’ve felt like my feelings have been hurt which is very easy for me to feel like has happened even if someone wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. i have felt this for a large part of my life which never really became clear to me until i realised it’s also a part of adhd or more specifically rejection sensitive dysphoria.

i feel my emotions incredibly intensely and whether someone intended to upset me or not, i will in the majority of situations i’m in convince myself that they meant to hurt me and then i’ll put myself down because of that. it’s a lot harder for me through a screen to decipher people’s intentions but i try my best not to let it bother me too much, which isn’t easy whatsoever.

i also have anxiety which makes it hard for me to deal with certain situations where increased hate is thrown around so casually because i will start to panic. it also makes it hard for me to approach others particularly when i’m already in a state of anxiety which is kind of a cruel, twisted joke by the universe when you think about it.

however, i do find issues within this community incredibly important to discuss so that people can see how others have had to deal with such things as transphobia and make people realise we can all do better to protect others or make certain changes to try and stop it from happening. so, i always try my best to do what i think is right. people are free to disagree with my methods if they wish but i don’t believe you can stamp out some of these problems by talking about it behind closed doors as no one will ever know what your thoughts on it are, you have no way of educating others and it can come across as unsupportive instead.

when i first decided to use my voice back in May to talk about what in my opinion was one of the bigger accounts within this community, i figured that i had opened the floor for conversations that needed to be discussed about cis-het people in lgbt+ spaces. instead i was met with anonymous messages telling me to harm myself, i received lesbophobic slurs and even someone attacking me based on the fact i had pronouns in my bio who assumed i was trans. this was an incredibly difficult situation for me and caused me to almost be “afraid” of my own account for months. i only began to feel comfortable again when the issue with that same person arose just a few months ago which resulted in them deactivating.

i’m aware there are people out there who are upset with me and others for what they feel is us “bullying” this person off the platform, but what i see is that lgbt+ people/accounts finally decided to keep our spaces safe and i see that people are far more comfortable now with that person gone, whether you like it or not, that is the truth of the matter. they made people feel invalidated, they encouraged violence against lgbt+ people and felt like everything they did was fine. it was not. it never was.

for some reason afterward, people began coming to me to tell me about other people within this community who perhaps didn’t address something or had been friends with that person. i personally struggle to talk to anyone who was friends with them because i know some of them saw the original issue back in May and could have spoken up to at least try and stop people sending death threats, but they didn’t. however, i don’t think these issues have a time limit for people to speak up nor do i think people should instantly go to hate anyone who doesn’t but rather ask them “hey did you see x problem, what are your thoughts?” and then base what happens next on their answer.

but i want to make something very clear, sending messages to people telling them to harm themselves etc. is never the answer. it only causes more pain and takes away the opportunity to have an educational conversation with that person to perhaps make them see that their views may be problematic.

i’m only one person, you know? do i believe that i have this “power” that anons keep telling me i do? no. i think that this community has for a long time been silent on important matters and thus me and a few other blogs being outspoken on some of the bigger accounts who either once were or still are in the community has shaken a lot of things up for people and some don’t like that. i think when addressing such issues as transphobia and reblogging posts from those who have to go through it everyday who maybe detail things they experience, some people have realised they too hold the same beliefs as those who are being called out and by default they feel called out also.

but please don’t ever compare something as dangerous, life-threatening and harmful as transphobia to me not mentioning another creator in an ask. those two are in no way comparable and dilutes the issue of transphobia massively when it has real-life consequences that i’ve personally talked about a situation close to me but also happens every single day unfortunately and we all can do far more/better to protect people who are trans.

i’ve since brought up situations where other creators have either said or done something that i feel is wrong and again, if they’re willing to share opinions that are transphobic or mocking being n/b-phobic publicly, i also think other creators around them have the right to call them out publicly. i won’t apologise for this because again, it can’t be solved behind closed doors as that furthers the silence people previously relied on in this community to avoid helping or supporting others. i think anyone who does believe these things should be discussed privately after the person made it a public issue should reflect on that a little.

as for me not mentioning a specific creator in an ask. it genuinely was not my intention to hurt them or anyone else by not mentioning them, i genuinely just don’t like to talk about people on others’ blogs but especially not if i don’t know the person and they don’t know me. i understand now how that looks bad on me, but i still stand by my choice as i genuinely do not see why it caused such a huge uproar after i had explained myself multiple times.

i have apologised to that creator personally and unfortunately there are other complications there which have made it hard for me to let this issue go, through no fault of their own but rather i just am very aware of how i have now fixated on this and i have to get myself out of that ultimately. but i want to reiterate here that there is no problem on my side toward them, i genuinely just do not like to talk about others that i don’t know. i never have liked that as i’ve had it happen to me but there’s nothing more i can do about it now. i hope they’re able to see i meant no harm whatsoever as i hope the rest of you can but i understand if not.

i’m very aware that at least one of the anons from last night is someone who has previously attacked me on multiple occasions (same language etc.) and it does scare me a little bit that there is someone essentially just watching my account and waiting for me to do or say anything so they can strike and attack me but again there’s nothing i can do about that other than block them from sending asks (tried it) but if they continue to persist i don’t know what more i can do to protect myself from that.

i’ve opened myself up a lot here and i’m very proud of that because it’s something i struggle with, however, i’m also aware people can now use those things against me. but to see that someone mentioned my own relationship last night hurt me deeply because whilst i don’t mind talking about it, i also don’t wish for anyone to feel like they’re close enough to our relationship that they have the right to bring it up so casually as a way to try and hurt either of us or that any of you are entitled to an opinion on it because none of you truly know either of us or how our relationship works, nor will you ever from me at least. ultimately, no one has that right to mention our relationship but the both of us is my point. so don’t try and pull that with me, you won’t like the outcome.

i want to end this by saying that i’m fine and reassure you all that i’ve been able to let all of this go but the truth is i’m not fine right now. i always try to find a “fix” for any problems people have because i want to help everyone but i struggle to do so when it comes to my own ultimately and i also don’t believe there is a “fix” for this but rather i just have to come to terms with the fact that my values in wanting to stand up for others (which i will continue to do) or not wanting to talk about people who i don’t know have ultimately hurt others so i have to figure out a way to bring this back to a positive state for myself. i’m just unsure how currently but i’ll figure it out.

i apologise again for not mentioning a-nxny in that ask, it was not an intentional thing and i honestly did not think or believe anyone would find offense in it and had i known i wouldn’t have done that, but i do hope people can at least see this from my perspective a little bit and then it’s up to you whether you agree or disagree, again there’s no fix for this.

i am begging all of you who read this who maybe has sent hurtful things either recently or previously to please reconsider as that is never the answer and i do not condone anything of that nature whatsoever. if in future you see me talking about certain issues or if another creator does something problematic, don’t then go and harass them with asks wishing them harm. instead either approach them from an educational point of view or dont approach them at all. i am someone who this has happened with and had to get myself out of suicidal thoughts because of people doing this back in May, so don’t do it to someone else, please.

[merakilyy]

Rinse and Repeat

Pairing: Dimileth and Sylvelix (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)  Tags: Post-game, married fluff, angst with a happy ending, pregnancy, miscarriage, overprotective Dimitri Summary: The first time Byleth conceives a child, she miscarries. Then it happens again. And again. And again. And again. Despite these challenges, Dimitri remains the world’s most supportive husband who only wants the best for his beloved. 

Pregnancy, for Byleth, was unexpectedly difficult and her lack of a child increasingly began to weigh on her.

Byleth and Dimitri were completely blindsided by her first pregnancy, only finding out about the child after Byleth had fainted in the gardens while on a walk with a visiting Flayn. Dimitri had been completely beside himself when he’d heard the news, storming out of a meeting with some of the Dukes from the former Leicester Alliance. (Luckily, Dedue was able to smooth over the remainder of the meeting using the very detailed notes Dimitri had left behind in his haste.) He made a beeline for the infirmary, breaking three doors and a bannister in the process, only to find Byleth awake and well. She was sitting up in bed, laughing at a story Mercedes had been telling her, when Dimitri barged into the room.

“Oh Dimitri! We were wondering when you’d show up!” Mercedes greeted cheerfully.

Dimitri paid Mercedes no mind as he went directly to Byleth’s bed and knelt at her side. His face was lined with deep concern. “My beloved, are you well? I was just informed of your fainting spell in the gardens. Have you eaten today? Did you drink enough water? Was the sun too much for you?”

Byleth beamed, unworried about Dimitri’s numerous concerns. Showing her emotions was still not something that came naturally to her, but it was easy to share her feelings with Dimitri. “No, nothing of the sort, darling. We are fine,” Byleth said, taking Dimitri’s hands into hers. “Just a dizzy spell.”

“We?” Dimitri repeated, confused.

Mercedes clapped her hands together. “Yes! Congratulations on expecting your first child!”

“A child?” Dimitri repeated again, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. “Our child?”

“Yes, darling, I am with child.” Byleth squeezed Dimitri’s hands. 

Dimitri raised Byleth’s hands to his lips, laying a soft kiss on the back of each hand. “You are with our child! Our heir! The product of our love! How far along are you?”

“Three moons. It would seem that the stomach flu I had last moon was not a stomach flu after all.” Byleth released one of Dimitri’s hands so that she could bury her fingers in his hair and pull him in closer.

Mercedes quietly stepped out of the room then, knowing Byleth and Dimitri needed some time to relish in their joy. Mercedes would just return later to give them instructions on how to proceed and with more information of what to expect from pregnancy. In the meantime, she closed the broken door as best she could to give Byleth and Dimitri their privacy.

~~~

A moon later, Byleth was back in the infirmary. 

Instead of tears of joy, Dimitri cried tears of sorrow as he watched Byleth curl up on the infirmary bed. Her arms wrapped around her midsection where her dead child was slowly and painfully expelling itself from her body. He could do nothing but watch and hold Byleth as she endured painful cramp after cramp for two days. He could do nothing but watch as Mercedes periodically removed cloth stained with blood clots and fetal tissue from Byleth, grimacing as he was watching Mercedes literally taking away the remnants of their baby.

Throughout her miscarriage, Byleth shed nearly no tears until the very end as a particularly painful cramp caused her to cry out and she only openly grieved her lost child for a day. 

That day, Dimitri would bury the bloody remains of their child in the garden as Byleth watched from her chair. She had lost too much blood during the miscarriage and wasn’t quite strong enough to help Dimitri yet. Later, she and Dedue did plant new flowers around the little stone that read “Baby Blaiddyd”.

~~~

As they soon discovered, becoming pregnant was not an issue. Within the next year, Byleth had conceived four more times. With each subsequent pregnancy, she had grown increasingly desperate and increasingly cautious about her actions so as to avoid the pain of her first pregnancy. But at the end of the year, after her meticulous planning and careful contemplation over her each and every action, she still had no child to show for it.

The second miscarriage had happened very early on, just three weeks into her pregnancy. Neither Byleth nor Dimitri cried over this child as they hadn’t known about this child’s presence until it was gone. Yet, Dimitri could see how the loss of another child weighed on Byleth as she spoke, ate, and trained less afterwards. But again, he could do little but hold her and love her as he promised they would try again.

The second child had no remains, but Dimitri still placed another small stone in their garden a short distance from the first. This stone read “Baby Blaiddyd #2”. Dedue and Byleth planted yet more flowers.

~~~

The third pregnancy wasn’t a miscarriage, exactly, but Mercedes was forced to remove the child to preserve Byleth’s life as it was an ectopic pregnancy. At first, Byleth and Dimitri were cautiously optimistic and saw Byleth’s lack of morning sickness as a good omen. But, in the third moon of the pregnancy, Mercedes called for both Byleth and Dimitri. Byleth didn’t shed any tears as Mercedes explained how there was no choice but to terminate the pregnancy, but there was no hiding the wateriness of Byleth’s gaze as she stared blankly at the wall behind Mercedes. Dimitri had insisted on staying in the room for the entire procedure so that Byleth would not be alone. Byleth said nothing, but her numbing grip on Dimitri’s hands told him how grateful she was for his presence.

Once again, there were no remains so Dimitri set up another small stone for “Baby Blaiddyd #3”.

Byleth didn’t help Dedue plant the flowers for this child, but she did select the seeds for Dedue to use.

~~~

The fourth pregnancy was the worst. It began with extreme morning sickness. In the early moons, Byleth lost so much weight that her already lean physique was beginning to appear emaciated. Even as her child expanded her abdomen, Byleth was losing weight alarmingly quickly. Without knowing otherwise, it would not appear as if Byleth was with child at all and this persisted well into the fifth moon. Byleth was unable to leave her room much, lacking both the energy and willpower to do so, nevermind attend to her duties as Archbishop or Queen. Fortunately, having already heard of her earlier pregnancy struggles, Seteth took on most of the Archbishop’s duties from Garreg Mach so as to lessen the burden on Byleth.

Dimitri took on as many of Byleth’s queenly duties as he could, and Ingrid filled in as a proxy for Byleth wherever and whenever her presence was required. Meanwhile, Byleth spent the majority of her fourth pregnancy on bed rest. 

The timing of the fourth pregnancy coincided with Sylvain and Felix’s visit to Fhirdiad. Officially, they were in Fhirdiad to discuss more advanced education for commoner children but Sylvain, Felix, and Dimitri all knew they were really just here to see Byleth. 

“How many rules do you think we’re breaking, entering the private bedchamber of the Holy Queen of Faerghus and the Archbishop of Seiros?” Sylvain joked, though a tightness in his eyes gave away his true concern for Byleth. 

“Well the Boar King has already broken tradition by technically marrying a commoner and keeping a shared bedchamber with his queen,” Felix smirked at Dimitri. Like Sylvain, Felix’s quips were only a cover for his genuine concern.

“I wish I could share my bedchamber,” Sylvain mused. “I didn’t think Dimitri had it in him! Too bad my lover lives all the way in Fraldarius, though. Must be great to wake up to your lover every morning.” Sylvain wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at Felix. 

“Ugh. You crass beast,” Felix responded by smacking the back of Sylvain’s head just hard enough to make his point. “If you thought with your big head instead of your little head for once you would know exactly why I can’t just move to Gautier.”

“Hey! You didn’t think it was that little last night!”

Albeit strained, Dimitri still smiled as he watched his childhood friends, former classmates, and invaluable wartime allies squabble beside him. “I see your relationship is as strong as ever,” Dimitri quipped dryly.

“Shut up,” Felix muttered, though his words were muffled by Sylvain’s shoulder. 

Sylvain had pulled Felix into a tight embrace, further mussing up his hair. “Don’t mind Feli-Feli,” Sylvain cooed as he half dragged Felix down the hall, “He just missed his morning sugar. You know, me,” Sylvain clarified, as though he had not been obvious enough. Dimitri laughed as Sylvain emphasized his point with a wink.

Felix swore as Sylvain placed a very loud and very wet kiss on his forehead, though Felix made no move to wipe his face afterwards.

For Dimitri, Sylvain and Felix’s banter was a welcome distraction from the seriousness of Byleth’s predicament. As soon as Dimitri opened the door to his bedchamber, Sylvain and Felix both froze at how weak Byleth appeared. Her skin was pallid and, other than her protruding midsection, she was little more than skin and bones. 

“Hello, Beloved,” Dimitri said with a gentle smile, having gone immediately to sit at the foot of their shared bed. He gathered Byleth’s feet in his lap and began to massage them. “Sylvain and Felix are here.”

“How lovely,” Byleth smiled weakly. She pushed herself up from the bed as best she could so she could greet Sylvain and Felix. Dimitri reached over to support her back as she sat up. “Hello Sylvain, Felix, “Byleth greet softly. “It is good to see you both. I apologize for the circumstances. This really isn’t a very proper setting for a Queen of Faerghus to be entertaining guests now, is it?” She chuckled self-deprecatingly. 

“No,” Felix recovered first and spoke quickly before Sylvain could stuff his foot in his mouth. “But anything that would drive those old nobles who refuse to accept common sense is usually the right thing to do.”

Byleth laughed in response and Dimitri brightened up at finally seeing his wife so happy.

Upon reaching the sixth moon of her fourth pregnancy, Dimitri and Byleth finally began discussing names.

“If we have a boy, I think it would be nice to name him after Rodrigue,” Dimitri said pensively. He was reclined in bed, back against the headboard, while Byleth rested between his legs. Her back pressed up against Dimitri’s chest and he gently massaged her shoulders, loosening her muscles to help her relax. “I did not ever truly thank him for all he did for me,” Dimitri continued, “For acting as a surrogate father, for his loyalty, and I took advantage of his dedication until he died for me. There is much I am indebted to him for, and it is a debt I will never be able to repay. He helped pull me away from the ghosts of my past and I wish to honour him.”

Byleth agreed, “That is a lovely thing to do. But I would like to honour Dedue as well. Is Rodrigue Molinaro an agreeable name to you, Dimitri?”

“Rodrigue Molinaro Blaiddyd,” Dimitri murmured appreciatively. His hands stopped massaging Byleth’s shoulders, instead running down her arms until they intertwined with her hands. He reached around, resting both his and Byleth’s hands on her bump. “Rodrigue Molinaro Blaiddyd,” Dimitri said again, “I love it. It will be an excellent name for a son. But what of a daughter?”

“Hmm,” Byleth hummed. She tilted her head back so that it was resting against Dimitri’s shoulder. “I have no preferences. Though I would like to honour Mercedes for all she’s done for us, especially in recent moons.”

“I quite like the name Leanna. My father once told me old fairy tales of Faerghus when I was young and I quite liked the character Leanna. She was the sneaky counterpart in the adventures of Loog. Would Leanna Mercedes Blaiddyd be agreeable to you, my beloved?” With their hands still connected, Dimitri gently stroked Byleth’s belly. He grinned when he felt the baby kick in response to his ministrations.

Byleth shifted her body and turned slightly so that Dimitri could see the smile on her face. “Very much so, my King.” She tilted her head up and laid a kiss against Dimitri’s jawline. “Very much so.”

But, just mere days after Felix and Sylvain’s visit, mere days after they had chosen a name for their child, Byleth went into premature labour. 

Having wanted to account for any possible event, Mercedes had sent for Manuela and even Rhea herself as soon as Byleth’s pregnancy had been confirmed. Yet, even with all their preparation and Byleth’s care, there was nothing to be done for the child.

Once again, Dimitri was adamant that he remain at Byleth’s side. He held her hand all throughout the thirteen hours of labour. He raised a glass of water to her lips periodically, wiped her face and her tears with a damp cloth, held Byleth’s nightgown out of the way when Mercedes or Manuela or Rhea so requested, and he murmured reassuring words but there was nothing he could do as he watched his wife give birth to a dead daughter after thirteen hours of pain and suffering.

Byleth was bedridden for another two weeks after the delivery as she had hemorrhaged during labour and Mercedes wanted to be overly cautious. As such, she wasn’t able to join Dimitri when he buried their stillborn daughter and set up the little stone engraved with “Leanna Mercedes Blaiddyd”. 

Nor did she accompany Dedue in planting flowers for her dead daughter. This time, too deep in her own grief, Byleth did not even select the flowers and she could not bring herself to visit her dead daughter’s grave.

She remained in bed, trapped in the very room where she had lost her daughter. Leanna Mercedes Blaiddyd was not Byleth’s first failed pregnancy, but Leanna Mercedes Blaiddyd was the first of her dead children whom Byleth shed tears for. Dimitri shared Byleth’s grief but there was nothing he could do.

(And Byleth knew better than to use the divine pulse when it wouldn’t erase the hurt she was feeling from losing her daughter, and when she knew that her daughter could just die again and she did not have the strength to feel her child die inside her a second time.)

~~~

The fifth pregnancy was comparatively uneventful. Byleth conceived her fifth child out of a growing desperation to carry a child to term despite Mercedes’ and Dimitri’s concerns over Byleth’s declining health. Yet, Byleth still conceived. Not entirely unsurprisingly, Byleth then miscarried the baby two moons later. 

Still melancholic from the stillborn Leanna several moons earlier, Byleth was fairly numb to her most recent miscarriage. However, her succession of failed pregnancies was beginning to give rise to malicious rumours.

Byleth first learned of such rumours when she overheard the conversation between a maid and a serving boy around the corner.

“Really,” the serving boy said snottily, “his majesty should get himself a new wife by now. It’s not like he’d be throwing the Queen to the wolves. She’s the Archbishop of Seiros, for the Goddess’ sake. She doesn’t need to also be the queen. Shouldn’t she be at Garreg Mach anyway? Especially since she’s useless at providing heirs.”

“I hate that his majesty needs to suffer with such a useless wife. What good at noblewomen other than having children? It’s not like they know how to work,” the maid said.

A second maid piped up then. “But Her Grace isn’t a noble. She was a mercenary. I don’t think she should get to be the Queen and Archbishop. The Goddess deserves an Archbishop who is truly devoted to her.”

“At the very least,” the first servant boy spoke again, “his majesty should take a mistress who can actually provide an heir.”

Stung, Byleth didn’t hear what was said afterwards. She headed straight for Dimitri’s office, accidentally alerting the maids and servant boy to her presence. Though the look on their faces at having been caught gossiping by the Queen of Faerghus and Archbishop of Seiros herself was priceless, Byleth did not get the opportunity to enjoy it. 

Before Dimitri’s office door, Byleth took a deep breath. Steadying her nerves, she knocked.

“Come in!” called Dimitri’s voice through the heavy oak door. 

Seeing Byleth enter the room, Dimitri immediately brightened. He stood from his desk, abandoning his mining reports, to greet Byleth. 

His face fell immediately after seeing Byleth’s expression, his joy replaced by concern. “My beloved, what is wrong? Are you unwell?”

“Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice broke as she stumbled in Dimitri’s arms. Despite her emotional turmoil, the weight of Dimitri’s thick fur cloak wrapping around her was as calming as ever. 

With her face buried in Dimitri’s cloak, Byleth couldn’t see Dedue. But, she heard Dedue say “I will take my leave, your majesty. I shall be in the garden.”

Although she didn’t hear Dimitri’s response, Byleth let out a sob at the mention of the garden. She had yet to visit her last two children and couldn’t bring herself to face her failure. 

Once the door had closed behind Dedue, Dimitri gently guided Byleth towards the couch. The fire had been lit by Dedue earlier so the sparks crackled in the background as Byleth fought to regain control over herself. Dimitri said nothing. He simply held her in his arms and gave her a reassuring smile as he waited for Byleth to speak first.

“I…” Byleth spoke so softly that it was almost a whisper. “I love you, Dimitri.”

“And I love you too, Byleth,” Dimitri responded without hesitation. Byleth didn’t immediately continue, but Dimitri patiently waited for her to continue.

“I love you,” Byleth said again, voice stronger now, “but I know I am not the best queen for you.”

Dimitri’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Why would you say that, my love?”

“I…” Byleth dropped her gaze as her eyes began to fill with tears. “I failed to give you an heir. But you need an heir. And I would understand if you wanted an annulment or if you wished to take a mistress so you could have an heir.”

“Byleth, what brought this on?” Dimitri knew Byleth’s question and current vulnerability was not due to a lack of love on her part, but was a consequence of her string of consecutive miscarriages in such close succession. Despite her best attempts to appear otherwise, Dimitri knew that the loss of each subsequent child was taking its toll on Byleth both physically and emotionally. But, Dimitri also knew that Byleth would not consider such extreme measures, even in such a vulnerable state, without someone else having said something. 

Byleth sniffed, burrowing herself even deeper in Dimitri’s cloak. “I overheard some of the servants and maids speaking. They think I am a failure as a queen. Nearly three years of marriage but still no heir.”

“Byleth…” Dimitri reached over to tilt Byleth’s face so she was looking at him. “I don’t care about an heir.” He could see the mixture of uncertainty and disbelief spelled out on Byleth’s face so he continued, “Byleth, you are my love, my beloved queen, and I need you to listen carefully, alright? For you, I speak nothing but my honest truth. Will you listen to me? Believe me?”

“But…” Byleth’s protest drifted off when she saw the look Dimitri was giving her. Instead, she nodded. 

“My love, you know that I would do almost anything for Faerghus -- for my people.” Dimitri paused to gently cup Byleth’s face in both his bare hands. “But there is no question that you will always come first. Byleth, there would be no Kingdom of Faerghus without you by my side. My Queen, I have lost so much already. My father, stepmother, Glenn, Rodrigue, and even Dedue for those few long years. You saved me from myself then, saved me from my ghosts, and I am forever in your debt for that. But Byleth, “Dimitri’s eyes began to water, “I do not believe I would be able to ever recover from losing you. Without you, I fear I would lose myself to my ghosts permanently. I would lose myself to someplace so far that I would truly be beyond saving.

“I would love to have a house full of children. Children with my hair and your eyes, children with my nose and your strength, all running around the palace causing trouble for their tutors and maids and wreaking havoc upon the training grounds. But I would never, could never, choose them over you. I want no child, unless it is yours, and I would not protest if you wanted to give up on having children. My beloved, it is hard enough for me to watch you suffer with each child and I cannot imagine how much more difficult it must be for you to feel each child dying inside you.

“In the end, no matter how much I wish for children of my own, I wish to have you by my side for as long as I can. It is selfish of me, but I will choose you first. Byleth, I do not know what I would do if you were to pass while giving birth to my child but I know that I will never stop blaming myself for causing your death. Watching you destroy your health for me, for the hope of a child, I cannot bear to watch it for much longer.” Dimitri paused, tears leaking from his eyes. With her own tear tracks mirrored on her face, Byleth reached out and wiped Dimitri’s tears from his cheeks. 

Dimitri took a deep breath before continuing. “I want a child but I need you, Byleth. Please, I will give you all the children I possibly can if that is what you so desire. But please stop pushing yourself for me. We are young and healthy, and this is peacetime. Please, my love, I will beg of you to recover your health fully first. Please, do not join the ranks of the ghosts of those whom I failed. I love you, with or without a child, and I want nothing more than to see you happy and healthy once more.

“You are not a failure as queen.” Dimitri said, wiping Byleth’s tears from her cheeks. “You are a wonderful queen and your job is not solely to provide an heir. You have done much in rebuilding Fodlan and renegotiating treaties. None of the peace and wealth Fodlan enjoys today would be here without you. You have reinspired faith in the Church, you are a wonderful teacher and exemplary leader, and the best wife and life partner I could have asked for. You are a wonderful Queen and Archbishop for the people of Fodlan and those who cannot recognize that are fools.”

~~~

Byleth didn’t conceive again for another year. By no means was her sixth pregnancy easy, but it was nothing compared to the nightmare that was her fourth. She suffering morning sickness and fainting spells her first trimester which gave way to odd food cravings in her second trimester, all of which finally gave way to swollen feet and a chronic ache in her neck and back for the last months of her pregnancy. 

But, Byleth carried this child to term and all of Fodlan was shivering with anticipation for the latest news from the Royal Palace.

~~~

“To the good people of Faerghus and of all Fodlan,” Dedue and Ingrid stood on the palace balcony that was used for important announcements. “On behalf of his majesty, King Dimitri, and her grace, Queen and Archbishop Byleth, I would like to announce this joyous occasion of the birth of the Crown Prince, his highness Prince Rodrigue Molinaro Blaiddyd, first in line to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.” 

Ingrid continued, “The Goddess has blessed us for both mother and son are alive and in good health. We welcome all to join the Lady Mercedes von Martritz in the Royal Garden this evening in prayer for the continued good health of mother and son, as well as his majesty King Dimitri.”

~~~

Later, when baby Rodrigue finally settled for a nap, Byleth looked at Dimitri who was sprawled out next to her. Despite her clear exhaustion, Byleth was still relishing in the glow that only a new mother has. Dried tear tracks still stained her cheeks. They were remnants of tears of both pain and joy.

“Hey,” Byleth said softly so as to catch the attention of Dimitri without waking her newborn son, “we did pretty good, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Dimitri smiled, cradling baby Rodrigue’s tiny foot between his fingers. He pushed himself up to support his weight on his elbows and kissed baby Rodrigue’s nose before leaning up to place a chaste kiss on Byleth’s lips. 

“You did perfect.”

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 6

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @anincurablefangirl​, @kiainspace​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​, @god-save-the-deaks​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @misslolasworld​, @not-john-watsons-blog​, @spacedustmazzello​, @theindiealto​, @riddikuluslypotter​, @depressedbitchxox​, @tenement-funstah​, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​, @sarablog10​, @johndeaconshands​, @coincidence-ithinknots-blog​, @simonedk​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this update! Our boy Joe makes an appearance so that’s exciting!

Warning(s): Lizzie and Darcy level pining. Shit is serious.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

Part 6 here we go!!!

Several emotions hit Gwilym all at once. Shock at seeing Andrew kiss you. Relief at you pushing him away. Hurt that such an opportunity had presented itself to Andrew. And a fierce desire to protect you from something you didn’t want. He pushed all of it down and tried to collect himself because the most prevalent feeling that was standing over all the others was jealousy. Extreme jealousy that Andrew had taken you in his arms and embraced you like that.

Your mouth hung open in horror as you looked between Gwilym and Andrew. You couldn’t read the former’s face. Was he angry at you? Should it matter if he was?

“I’m sorry,” Gwilym said, clearing his throat. “It appears I’ve interrupted something.”

“You haven’t,” you said, while at the same time, Andrew said, “You did.”

You shot your friend a glare before looking back at Gwilym.

“You didn’t,” you said firmly. “That was nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” Andrew challenged. “Seriously, Y/N?”

“You didn’t even give me time to answer you before you kissed me!” you cried, facing Andrew again. “If you had, this very awkward situation wouldn’t be happening because I would have told you it’s not like that!”

“I’ll excuse you,” Gwilym said.

He opened the door and went through it before you could stop him. You glowered at Andrew, who rolled his eyes.

“What?” he snapped. “Afraid I ruined your chances?”

“No!” you shouted. “I’m angry because you kissed me before you even bothered to hear me! Do you think your feelings are all that matter? That I’d just fall into your arms after you confessed how you felt?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, searching for an answer.

“Here’s a tip for the next girl,” you said. “Make sure she wants to kiss you before just going in.”

“Why don’t you feel that way?” he asked. “Because of Gwilym?”

“No!” you said, wanting to scream with frustration. “It’s never been that way between us, even before Dan or anyone else came into the picture! I have only ever wanted to be your friend! Is that not enough for you?!”

He hesitated, and it appeared guilt came over him at your words. His silence worried you.

“Is that not enough for you, Andrew?” you pressed. “Or do you really only see me as a potential girlfriend?”

Still, he didn’t answer. Fear tugged at your heart.

“Andrew, please!”

“I...I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “But while I feel this way about you, it’s probably better if we don’t hang out.”

“What?” you gasped. “That’s it? Are you ser-”

“Not forever,” he said, cutting you off. “I just...I’m gonna need some time. It’s gonna be hard enough with the show and loving you on stage.”

“I’m sorry, Andrew,” you said. “I’m really sorry I can’t get there.”

“It’s fine,” he replied with a heavy sigh that told you the opposite. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna head home for break early. I think Gwilym will understand.”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. 

“Yeah, I think he will,” you choked out.

Andrew shared one last look at you and then left without another word, exiting near the stage. You took a deep, shuddering breath. So much was going through you. Anger at Andrew, sadness that your friendship was affected, and worry about what Gwilym was thinking.

“Gwilym!” you gasped, and ran back up the aisle to where he had left.

A thousand things were running through Gwilym’s mind. He was relieved to hear you reject Andrew, but he realized that he shouldn’t be. It was perfectly normal for you to date the guys in your class. Sensible, even. But why did it kill him to imagine it? His visceral reaction to seeing Andrew’s hands and mouth on you concerned him.

“Get a grip,” he scolded himself. “She’s not yours. Nor should she be.”

Then you burst through the door and he forgot everything but you.

You came through the door and saw him pacing, forefinger to his chin, and eyes narrowed. His head whipped around when he heard the door open and you locked eyes. He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and strode quickly over to you. Then, he gathered you up in his arms.

You let out a soft gasp, but quickly relaxed into him, burying your face in his chest. His hand came to rest on the back of your head. That familiar warm smell overwhelmed you. Being in his arms was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You were stronger there than anywhere else. Your arms slid around his waist and you held on tighter.

“Alright?” he murmured into your hair.

You nodded.

“I’m perfect right here,” you whispered.

You stood there, in that beautiful hug, for minutes that felt like years. Just you and Gwilym and no one else. There was nothing suggestive about the hug. It was just true, genuine comfort. A display of caring affection.

“Nothing happened, I promise,” you said, bringing you both back to the present moment.

He pulled back only slightly and met your eyes again.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Y/N,” he said. 

“I know, but I want you to understand,” you said. “I meant what I said yesterday, there’s nothing between me and Andrew.”

Andrew was right. Silly as it was, you had feared for a moment that your chances with Gwilym were ruined. You thought he would assume you preferred someone in your class, especially your good friend. But your heart belonged to Gwilym. Nothing made it clearer than this moment.

“We should go in,” he said. “The rest of the class will be here soon.”

“Andrew went home,” you told him. 

“I understand,” he replied. “We’ll do scenes without him today.”

You nodded. Then, taking his hand, you followed him into the auditorium.

Rehearsal went smoothly, and you were at ease again. Things with Andrew would mend. In the meantime, you and Gwilym could continue on just as you had been.

That night, Sloan called you as she was driving home to New Jersey for the break. She was affronted that you hadn’t told her about Andrew’s confession during class. Apparently, she had only found out at all from Andrew.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t want to gossip about him if he didn’t want you to know. He was really vulnerable.”

“I’m both of you guys’ best friend!” she insisted. “I should know all things.”

You chuckled. 

“That’s fair.”

“Okay, now tell me your side of the story,” she said.

You launched into it, holding nothing back. What Andrew said, what you said, how you felt about it, everything.

“And then Gwilym walked in as he kissed me!” you finished.

“Oh, weird!” she gasped. “Was it awkward?”

“Awkward as fuck,” you confirmed. “But, it didn’t last long.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

You were kicking yourself. You couldn’t tell her about the moment afterward because it felt too personal. Also, you were certain she would think it was stupid. But you had felt what Gwilym felt for you through his arms. You were sure of it.

“Well, he left, then Andrew and I finished up,” you said.

You explained that he wanted a break from you.

“I’m sorry if that puts you in an awkward position,” you said.

“It’ll be fine,” she returned. “I can see you at school and him at home. And we’ll all be together in rehearsal anyway.”

“That’s true,” you said.

“Anything else?” she asked. “Did Gwilym ask you about what happened?”

You froze, unsure how to answer her. You didn’t want to lie, but for you and Gwilym’s protection, you would have to.

“No,” you said. “It’s not like it was his business, y’know?”

“True,” she agreed. “Well, traffic is literal ass and I’ve almost been hit like four times during just this phone call.”

You giggled. “Understood. You focus and text me when you get home.”

“Roger,” she said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you returned.

You hung up. Gazing at the phone, you wondered if you should have just told her. She was your best friend after all. You could trust her. But, there was the fear of anyone finding out. Not that there was anything to really find out. You and Gwilym were not in a relationship. But you felt strongly for each other. You could not have imagined that.

Gwilym got a call from Joe that night, inviting him out for dinner. He agreed, and they met at a spot that was a favorite of Joe’s. They hugged excitedly upon their reunion before going inside and getting a table.

“It’s wonderful to see you, mate,” Gwilym said as they ordered some beers.

“You too!” Joe returned. “I can’t believe you’ve been in New York this long and we haven’t gotten together.”

“I know, it’s ridiculous,” Gwilym agreed. “How are you?”

Joe started talking about a new project he was doing that was filming here in New York for a while. It worked out because he got to be home with his family.

“I mean, the schedule is still crazy, of course, but it’s more time than I usually get with the kiddos,” he finished. “How are you? What’s it like teaching?”

Gwilym hesitated before answering.

“It’s, uh...it’s pretty great,” he said. “We’re doing Meet Me in St. Louis for the capstone class I have, and that’s exciting.”

“Sweet,” said Joe. “Got any hot students?”

Gwilym choked on the sip of beer he was taking. He coughed as Joe raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, I was just kidding, but now I’m worried,” he said, clapping Gwilym on the back.

“Why should you be worried?” Gwilym wheezed, clearing his throat some more as he recovered.

“Don’t lie to me, dude,” Joe said. “Are you seriously fucking one of your students?”

“No!” Gwilym said loudly, his voice back. He lowered his volume. “And keep it down.”

“Shouldn’t have to if you’ve got nothing to hide,” Joe returned.

“Okay,” Gwilym conceded with a sigh. “There is a student I am close to.”

Joe opened his mouth but Gwilym silenced him with a sharp look.

“Nothing has happened, nor will it,” he went on. “But the feelings...are there. She’s incredibly smart and talented and funny.”

“Pretty?” Joe asked.

“Beautiful,” Gwilym said. “I know it’s wrong, but we’ve really connected, and I dunno...I…”

“You in love with her?” Joe wondered.

Gwilym’s cheeks went pink. “God, I don’t know! I only met her a few weeks ago!”

“Tell me what has happened between you.” 

Gwilym went into the story. He told Joe everything, from your first meeting, to the party, to the minutes before class, all the way through that afternoon when he’d hugged you and felt like the world had suddenly fallen into place.

“Sounds like love to me,” Joe said. “Or damn close to it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re encouraging this,” Gwilym said.

“Oh, fuck no, not even a little bit,” Joe returned. “It’s a terrible idea to pursue a student. But I think it’s not just sex you want from her, so that’s good. And when you’re not her teacher anymore, maybe it could work.”

“I don’t know,” Gwilym argued. “She’s still so much younger than me and our lives are in different places. She wants to go to LA, I’m going back to London...”

“Gwil, if you care about this girl, those things won’t matter,” Joe said. “What matters right now is setting a firm boundary until the opportunity is right. And you can tell her it’s mostly for her. She stands to lose a lot more than you.”

That was true. It was why Gwilym was so worried about the whole thing. He finished dinner with Joe, and as he went to bed, his mind wandered to you and what steps he should take next.

The break went by agonizingly slowly in your opinion. The school week would resume on Tuesday, and you couldn’t wait to see Gwilym again. Just the prospect, the idea of being in the same room as him made your heart flutter.

Tuesday morning, you got an email from Gwilym. It was sent to all the class and said that he was giving them extra time to get back, and only wanted you and Andrew for rehearsal, so you two could focus on your scenes. You thought it might be a bit awkward to just be with the two of them again, but there was no getting out of it for you.

Then you got a text from Andrew. Pushing down your shock, you opened it.

Hey, not feeling great. Just have Gwilym read for me today.

You hated to admit it, but a whole class period of just you and Gwilym was everything you could hope for. You thought about how to answer Andrew.

Still drunk? Lol

You sent it. He replied just as quickly.

I’ve got a fever asshole lmao

You smiled. Okay. Things could get back on track. You texted back a thumbs up emoji and then got ready for class. Your heart thundered with excitement with each step.

Gwilym, on the other hand, was mulling over what Joe said. He’d spent the break wondering if he should talk to you and firmly put an end to...whatever it was between you. Fond as he was of you, this wasn’t right. He could not let you risk your college career. And he didn’t want to lead you on, either. It was going to be difficult. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he would if it meant protecting you.

He waited in the auditorium, drumming his fingers against his clipboard. You arrived early, just as you did every day. And you looked stunning, just as you did every day. His chest tightened.

“Morning!” you said brightly. “Andrew’s sick, so it’s just me. Can you take his place?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get started.”

Your brow furrowed. Something was off about him. He was hardly looking at you and seemed closed off.

“I thought we’d focus on Over the Bannister,” he said. “Luckily for Andrew, that’s mostly your scene anyway.”

That was more like the Gwilym you knew. Still, something was bothering him.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Where should we start from?”

“Right after Rose goes upstairs,” he said.

You got into position on stage and waited for him to join you.

“Let’s begin,” he said.

Clearing his throat again, he got into character.

“Well, I guess I better get going,” he started, shaking your hand.

“You haven’t very far to go,” you replied softly, as Esther.

“No, I haven’t at that,” he returned. “Well, good night.”

He turned to go and you followed him.

“We’ll be seeing more of you won’t we?” you asked desperately, taking his hand again. 

“You bet,” he answered.

“You’ll be joining the crowd Friday when we go to the fairgrounds, won’t you?”

You went  back and forth with him this way until he had fully walked off stage.

“Mr. Truitt?” you called.

He stepped back. 

“Yes, Miss Esther?”

“This is an untoward request, but would you mind accompanying me through the house while I turn out the lights?” you said.

“Well, I -”

“It’s just that I - I’m afraid of mice,” you said timidly

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, well, sure. Uh, that’s the least a man can do for his charming hostess.”

You giggled and looked at the floor with humility. 

“I have to turn them out everywhere - in the dining room, in the living room, and everywhere.”

You turned and looked at him and then he followed you around the stage as you started turning down the “lights.” He had his arm around you to reach up and turn one off and you bit your lip. The contact was so welcome. You wanted to hug him again. Now, you were grateful that this was very in character at the moment.

“It certainly is dark in here with the lights off,” you said with a shrug.

“It is,” he returned. “Shall we do the dining room next?”

“Yes,” you said.

Together you moved to the next part of the stage to do the same thing. You started to hum “The Boy Next Door,” and he looked so fondly at you, you stopped breathing. You cleared your throat and moved on with the scene. Finally, you made it back to the staircase, much more red in the face than you had begun.

You were halfway up the stairs, looking down at Gwilym warmly. He gazed back with a soft smile.

“Gosh, Miss Esther,” he said. “I - I hope I’m not too presumptuous. You don’t need any beauty sleep.”

He rested his arm on the banister railing and you beamed.

“What a nice compliment,” you replied. 

“How does it go?” he said.

“How does what go?” you wondered.

“Over the banister, leans a face,” he said. “Tenderly sweet, and...and…” 

You began to sing. Gwilym had decided you should do this song acapella, to reflect the vulnerability of the moment.

“Beguiling

While below her with tender grace

He watches the picture, smiling”

Gwilym could hardly stand it as he watched you. Your voice, your face, your heart. They were all so beautiful. He had you here, all to himself too.

“A light burns dim in the hall below

Nobody sees them standing”

Against the script, Gwilym started climbing the stairs, a strange, determined look on his face. He reached you as you as you sang. 

“Saying goodnight again 

Soft in love”

The last note faltered. You were so close now. The air between you was charged, electric. Your eyes were fixed on his, which burned as they consumed you. He leaned in. He was going to kiss you, you were sure of it. 

“Y/N,” he said lowly. “The lyric is ‘soft and low.’”

“Is it?” you breathed back. “My mistake.”

His face was inches from yours. He was finally going to kiss you. The distance was closing. Your eyes began to fall shut. You felt his lips barely a centimeter from yours. Just a bit further, more contact, and then -

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, backing away.

You opened your eyes and looked at him.

“W-what?” you wondered, heart rate picking up.

“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t do this to you, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You watched, frozen with shock, as he jogged down the stairs, grabbed his things from the stage, and walked out of the auditorium. You sat down on the fake stairs, numb and alone.

[honeymoonjin]

day 11 & 12

With Festa in full swing last week, I feel like I didn’t have a chance to breathe let alone sit down long enough to articulate a review worthy of Day 11. I shall endeavor to do my very best to make up for that here. And, upon reading the start of Day 12, I am actually kinda glad I waited because I think that it gave me time to put both chapters into perspective. 

Day 11 was a very emotional one for Jungkook and I feel like we got to see those emotions coming to a head in this chapter. On the whole, Day 11 was such a fun, lowkey entry that I wasn’t really sure if I would have anything coherent to offer beyond high pitched squealing accompanied by the occasional swoon and cooing. But after seeing the tension and subsequent squabble that transpired at the breakfast table on Day 12, I see that perhaps there was more to ruminate concerning the feelings that Jungkook had experienced in the confessional booth. It’s so interesting from a writers perspective that you chose Jungkook to be the one to reiterate the whole point of the show; he’s younger, thus perhaps conventionally he’s a bit more emotionally immature than the rest of the guys. And yet, from the beginning, none of these guys have ever been portrayed as stereotypical or conventional; you have always expertly reminded the audience that each of the contestants (including our lady!) is more much complex than what meets the eye. It’s one of the things that I love so much about this series; none of the characters are ever “too perfect” and it’s those candid moments of vulnerability or weakness that truly makes this story stand out from a lot of other stories that I read. So to choose Jungkook as the person to make those “bold” comments and to have Namjoon be the one to call him out for being insensitive makes me feel like Jungkook’s response was much more complex than what it seems at glance. Like, it’s pretty obvious that Jungkook likes and respects our lady and perhaps he realized his indiscretion just a little to late but now he’s put on the spot, he’s been called out in front of everyone, and beyond the fact that he probably feels like shit for saying what he said and inadvertently hurting our lady in the process. He’s probably also hella embarrassed. I wonder too if maybe Jungkook is also ashamed that the person who called him out was Namjoon, someone who I want to believe, he respects and perhaps maybe admires a little. And despite the fact that I chuckled a little bit when our lady noticed that Jungkook was “staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames”, I realized that he might also be both angry and disappointed in himself for his behavior. *sigh* Boy, you were so right all those weeks ago when you said “emotions are messy”. Anyway, that’s my roundabout way of saying, I liked the breakfast scene. Haha! Drama is inevitable; I love that you don’t shy away from presenting conflict for them to overcome. It offers opportunities for character growth and character exploration and I really appreciate that! 

Speaking of character growth, Namjoon got a chance to really flex those skills he acquired from “Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess”. That scene left me melting! Melting, I say! I’m not sure if you noticed but I make it a point to not reveal who my actual bias is in these reviews because I feel like I want to give all of the guys a chance to win me over for fan favorite. What I will say though is that you kind of hit on a lot of my personal preferences with Namjoon’s scene. Beyond the fact that the scene was really, really hawt, it fulfilled me on an emotionally intimate level, so it made the scene extra special. Bravo! 

And I suppose Jimin also deserves a standing ovation for that amazing show he put on. Holy smokes that was so hot. From the light banter and quips at the beginning of that scene to Jimin actually owning that entire lounge! And as amazing as the show (plus subsequent private scene with our lady afterwards) was, my favorite bit might be the exchange between Jimin and Hoseok, another scene that filled with tension and new revelations! It might actually be the most fascinating scene because it gave a glimpse at something rather unexpected; something has transpired between Hoseok and Jimin. I might be reading too much into the exchange but it feels as though something has happened away from the cameras between them. Because it feels like there has been a shift from blatant hostility between these two to something more akin to a genuine understanding that this is now a battle for power and control. I could be reaching but I feel like, at the very least, there have been words exchanged between them! It made the scene all the more intriguing! I loved every moment of it. Oh! Speaking of which, what is up with Jin?! When Yoongi asked Jin to speak to Kookie about what had happened that morning, it seemed he was a bit apprehensive to take up the task. I know that there might not be anything more there than just the fact that Jin might not want to be the one to have to broach the subject with Kookie but I feel like there’s more there than what meets the eye as well… my theory is in it’s fetus stage though, so I feel like I’ll hold back on my thoughts concerning Jin for now. And Yoongi, for that matter! I feel like there is something more there as well. AH! Too many theories to juggle! I will let you know what my thoughts are about it once I have gathered more adequate information. 

I still feel guilty for not being able to give you a full length review of Day 11. It really was such a great, light day. Jungkook’s scene left me all hot and bothered to the point where I spent the entirety of the week, searching up Jungkook smut fics to fulfill my Jungkook fix that that chapter evoked in me! Not to mention that the boys getting up to antics for a whiteboard that in the end they didn’t really need just made me all the more baffled by their behavior. It was fun, hilarious and just what I would expect from the guys.

To make up for not having anything for last week, I would like to take the opportunity to tell you about me loving this amazing story so much I nearly force-fed my best friend to read it with me so that I would have someone to fangirl with. Let me tell you a little bit about her. See, she doesn’t consume fanfics with as much verocity as I do. She is a very casual fanfic reader and if she does (which is rare in it of itself) she only ever reads MxM. Period. So when I told her the premises of “The Gentlemen” she was curious enough to read the contestant profiles. But I must say, from Day 1, you had her HOOKED! She would text me screenshots and emoji filled fangirlings in the wee hours of the morning (the only time she had to read at all) every single thing she loved about each chapter and it brings me so much joy that she was really dissecting and appreciating all the little things that I too loved about your story! We would have long, deep discussions about her prompt theories, her favorite members, tiny details that you’ve so expertly woven into the story (like Jimin’s tattoo for example, which is something she is obsessed with, btw) all of her favorite traits that our lady of the house has. It’s been so blissfully fun having this to share with her especially since I have her to thank for getting me into BTS in the first place. So, please know that you have a secret fan of “The Gentlemen” who would like you to know that she has been enjoying herself thoroughly and that she looks forward to your updates just as much as I do now! 

Anyhoo, I think I’ve prattled on long enough. Thank you so much for your continued hard work and dedication to this series! This was such an amazing chapter I cannot wait to see how everything unfolds; it feel as though these last 2 chapters have planted some major seeds (no pun intended!!); I look forward to see what it sows in the coming days. 💜 Jan

Oh my gosh! In all of my ramblings, I forgot to say "shout out to Lady Mango! You go get that stake, girly!" Also, YAY Grandma Park!! Heck, that entire exchange in the bathtub made me uwu so hard my heart is just a pile of mush rn! Also, also!! Jin x Tae is lowkey underrated, so thank you for that! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ I lub u so much!! kthnxbye

---

i’m not ashamed (okay, maybe a little) to admit that i kinda teared up and did a happy lil dance when i saw the email that you’d sent in a submission fksdjfkds i figured you’d probably been busy with life or with the mountainloads of content bighit is giving us these days so i was content to wait patiently, and it just made it that much more exciting when i saw this come in !

thank you, as always, for being so sweet and articulate and thoughtful in your reviews of the chapters. often you point out things that make so much sense that perhaps i hadn’t even noticed when writing. other times you hit an idea that i’d slipped in right on the nose. 

jungkook definitely is having a pretty tumultuous time on the show. for him, i imagine he feels like he’s the only one having a difficult time ironing out his feelings, or that if anyone else is struggling too, that they’re acting like nothing’s up. i also feel like jungkook’s competitive streak comes through in unexpected ways. of course he feels proud of his sexual prowess and kinda wants to showboat a little bit, but i think there’s an aspect too where he needs to be the one that’s always bolder than the others to assert his position. writing the namkook scene i kind of drew on that feeling where you’re fighting with someone you care about or think highly of, and even as you realise you’re wrong, you don’t want them to think badly of you and so you desperately scramble for a way to come out on top or prove you’re in the right. there’s also def a degree of him trying to convince himself the show is just about sex and that the rest doesn’t matter. he certainly doesn’t feel that way inside, but we see him vouching from that position so fiercely in d12. 

i’m glad you liked the namjoon scene !! one day i’ll figure out your bias fkdsjfksdjk you do such a good job at analysing and discussing everyone equally that it’s difficult >.<

it’s so fascinating to hear your jihope theory that they’ve spoken before. i must keep my silence on the details BUT there will be a very important scene between them coming up in the next few days of the show that i think will really change things between them and also how the readers see them. i’m super excited to write it ! 

beyond that, i’m happy you noticed something about jin in this chapter.... yn and jin still haven’t resolved their issues yet, plus here we are having jin not respond that well to being asked to counsel one of the members, something he always stated he was happy to do,,,,, hmmmm 0.0

i love hearing your theories so much !!! i eagerly await getting new content out so i can see how they shift and change from release to release

and also you really don’t need to feel bad ! there’s never any obligation to write out a long review for every chapter, but you do so anyway and that means a lot to me xx if you’re busy one week you don’t have to force yourself to make time for it. we have over 50 chapters, so we’re in for the long haul ! there’s really no rush

ahhhh that’s so cool to hear about your friend! it always warms my heart hearing stories of people that got their friends to begin reading and stuff, honestly even the thought that people think about tgm outside of reading it blows me away, it feels so special that it’s something y’all wanna share and discuss w your loved ones xx 

YES LADY MANGOOO i love adding little slips of her in the chapters, i know she doesn’t factor into the main story that much but everyone can rest assured that all of the members of the house (okay, and probably our three on-site producers too) spend a lot of time with her, walking her and cuddling her and playing with her. tae is probably currently trying to teach her some commands, but of course the only one she’s got the hang of is lie down jskfjsd

(finally YES taejin is such an underrated duo i love them)

[jumoonjae]

I’LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN- THE STORM

PART 1 PART 2 PART 4 PART 5

Pairings: Ji Changmin (Q) X Reader X Jaehyun (Hyunjae) Ft Kevin Moon  Genre: Fluff x Angst X SLIGHT SMUT  Word count: 21,562 words

Summary: A talent show will take place in three week times and you still struggling with putting emotion in the song that you choose, a masterpiece by Lady Gaga, ‘I’ll never love again’. You meet Changmin who you fall for instantly after he jumps in to help you figuring out how to perform the song. Will he manage to help you? Or will he be the one who cause you to sing the song for him? Image are not mine. Credit to Google.

Changmin

He came late to his group gathering after sending her back to her dorm after another sleepover last night which he had a hard time saying goodbye with a long make out session in his car before he had to let her go and promised to meet her after her class end tomorrow evening.

“Changmin-ah.” Jaehyun call as soon as he get into the restaurant.

“Hyung.” He smiles and walk straight to him giving him a long manly hugs before greeting the other and Kevin who was oddly silent.

“How are you? Isn’t it your semester break too? If you told me you’re here during your break, I’m not going back and hang out with you instead.” Jaehyun pat his shoulder as he took the seat between Jaehyun and Kevin.

“Yeah it was. But I’m helping my girlfriend out with her performance next week, then I’ll be spending the rest of my break with Ghana afterwards.” He didn’t realize how Kevin’s eyes almost popped out from its socket after he heard the words girlfriend. He leaned forward to get Changmin’s attention asking for explanation but the guy just pushed him away playfully and there’s a glint of shyness plastered on his face.

“Girlfriend? Wow. I’m happy for you. Finally, its almost a year now am I right?” Jaehyun smiles at him and he nods. Its no that can’t move on from his ex or anything, its just tiring dealing with the heartbreak. He needs to start over in relationship again sooner or later and she just came into the picture. He was more than happy to claim her for himself.

“Yeah. We just made it official. I think you know her too because she’s Kevi..” He stop at his words when he saw the name of the girl he has spent the whole weekend with a heart emoji and a candid picture of her smiling so sweet holding a flower bouquet admiring it pops on Jaehyun’s phone waiting for Jaehyun to answer, his heart drop dangerously a thousand feet, free falling. The picture probably taken way back because her hair was black and she still look exceptionally beautiful that it hurts him so bad.

“Excuse me guys. Baby hey, why aren’t you answering my calls?” Everything around him seems like a picture that it has stop for a moment, he didn’t move or say anything it's like his body is shutting down, a shock is an understatement to describe how he feels, he was numbed that he couldn’t process what was happening, it was happening so fast that he think that maybe what happened during the weekend was only a dream. Or was it really? He felt a hand squeezing his shoulder and look to his right to find Kevin giving him an apologetic look and that was when he felt the pain, and then anger.

“Kevin. What is this?” His voice came out shaky but loud enough to make the other stop talking and all the attention was on him. He couldn’t believe that the girl he fell hard for which he spent his whole weekend with was the one who his hyung always brag about all the time. How he wish he could turn back time and.. he don’t even have a clue what to do if he turns back time. Falling for her was never an option, it was not something he can control. Maybe it was his fault for falling for her and he has no idea what to do or how to react. He was hurt. No. He felt betrayed and he had to control himself so he wont snap on anyone by balling up his fist tightly until his knuckles turns white.

“Its not what you think Changmin. You need to give her chance to explain. It’s a lot more complicated than what you think.” Kevin grab his shoulder gently try to calm him but he felt otherwise. He was furious but he want to heard it from Kevin if its not from her. Well at least he has a clue about the situation.

“Tell me then Kev. Tell me the truth.” He was about to lose his mind but he couldn’t snap at Kevin because it wasn’t his fault and he couldn’t blame her either because he needs to know from her side of story too.

“I can’t because I’m not in that place to tell you or him. She needs to tell you both herself. But I promise that all her feeling for you is genuine.” Kevin try to talk him out while the other has no clue what was going on. But his answer wasn’t enough, it drive him to the edge even more.

He rub his face harshly out of frustration while Kevin still try to calm him down but when he look out, he saw her outside walking towards Jaehyun. She look fresh with no make up on, nothing. Not even her signature red lips. She wears her black hoodie and matching back ripped jeans and he hates it because he still admires her for it and it kills him to think that she was more comfortable showing her raw side to Jaehyun than him. He prayed hard that it was all a lie. That she was just trying to pull a prank on him and hoping that she’ll walk into the restaurant and run to his embrace instead. But it wasn’t. Because she was walking into another man’s arm making his heart shattered into a million pieces. That was it. That’s the answer he’s been searching for and he wont need any explanation from anyone anymore. He couldn’t stand to look any longer before mustering all the strength he got left and stand abruptly wanting to leave.

“Changmin wait. Please let her explain.” Kevin grab his wrist but he pull away harshly. He was mad. Mad at her, at Kevin and at anyone who already knew about her and Jaehyun but just let him fall for her. Everyone is at fault.  

“You and your best friend can just go to hell.” He growled before walking to the main door towards her and Jaehyun. He saw how her tensing up when Jaehyun pull out a dark blue velvet box from his pocket making Changmin stop walking and as by looking at her in another man arm couldn’t hurt enough, this time he felt like dying is a better option than watching another man was about to propose to her. He saw how she covered her mouth and she frowned when he reveals a diamond ring to her, she looked uncertain and he was disinterested to know why because he was too clouded by his anger. He was about to give up on everything because the pain was unbearable. Her eyes suddenly wanders and caught his who was staring, taking in all the hurt she had caused that he will later will use it against her while she was in shock that she didn’t even look away when Jaehyun shook her body lightly trying to get her attention back to him, the velvet box was closed and Jaehyun followed her line of sight to find him, Jaehyun was confused that he keep looking back and forth at Changmin and her. With the last strength he could muster in his numb body, he walked out the door heading the opposite way from where they both were standing.

“Changmin wait.” He heard her sweet voice calling for him while Jaehyun calls for hers but he didn’t stop even how much he want to. He fight the voice inside his head that asking him to stay and listen to her explanation, but his heart was hurting and he don’t want to cry or fall back into her, what if she tell lies? No. He wont stop or look back or even gives her the chance to play him. He got into his car and speed up without looking back to save himself from breaking apart and refuse to cry in front of her or anyone. He bit his quivering lips hard before hitting the brake stop by the park when he’s sure that he’s far enough from everyone else where he finally break down into tears. He press his eyes hard using his palm to stop himself from crying.

“How could you.” He cries letting it all out. His heart was broken beyond repair and even she couldn’t fix it. She’s broken glass that he had thrown himself into, and falling for her was like walking on a shattered broken glass, the more he tries to pull the pieces out, the more damage it causes.

Y/N

You smiles closing the door to your room before plopping into your bed shrieking excitedly. You rolled on your back and smile again staring at the ceiling and how you wish that you still staring at his ceiling instead of yours. You decided to take a bath before doing your assignment and call Changmin afterwards. You took out your phone to charge it and realize it was dead for almost 2 days, you smiles again reminiscing the past two day when nothing else matter as long as you have him with you. You turn it on after connecting the charger and it was bombarded by texts and dozens of miscall from Jaehyun washing your smile away. You had forgotten about him for the past two weeks when you were too occupied with Changmin. You were happy and you’re determined that you’ll tell Jaehyun the truth as soon as you can. You decided to check all the text before heading to bathroom.

‘Y/N I’m at Seoul now. Where are you?’

And few asking the same thing but the last and the most recent was the one that made you broke a cold sweats.

‘I love you. I have a surprise for you and for our future. Please call me back. I missed you baby.’

You know what he was about to do because before his semester break, he keep asking about what kind of jewelry do you like and keep showing you a video of man proposing and shit like that and even ask how would you feel if someone proposed to you like that. You suddenly regret for not telling him earlier and making him wait for years. You went to the bathroom to take a shower before calling him as you head out from your room.

“Baby hey, why aren’t you answering my calls?” You stop at your tracks when he greets making inside of you churns at the pet name that he gave without your permission and it somehow made you disgusted with yourself for letting another man other than Changmin calling you that.

“We need to talk. Where are you?” You said urgently, putting on your Vans before walking out of your dorm.

“I’m at the restaurant near your dorm, you want me to come and pick you up?” You know the restaurant located few minutes away just by walking from your dorm and you run. You run hoping that it won't be too late for you to tell him before Kevin does or Changmin. You pretty sure they both hang out together because you knew they both know Kevin and Kevin only have one group of friend. You run without cutting the call until you saw him standing outside the usual restaurant they always went to.

“Oppa.” You call out finally cutting the phone call and he smiles widely as you walked towards him. It kills you that you has to hurt him after knowing what he will do. But you have to, you need to choose between him or Changmin and you didn’t even need to think twice to choose Changmin over anyone else. You stare at him trying to smile back at him, trying blurt out the words you’ve been trying to tell him. But you couldn’t, you were very fond to him, he was your first best friend before he decided to confessed and scared you away. But he never stop chasing you, maybe because you never dare to hurt him or push him away. You love him as a friend but now you need to tell him to stop. You need to tell him the truth.

“Y/N. Oh my god I miss you.” He pulls you into his embrace but you didn’t wrap your hands on him like you always did when Changmin hugs you. You push him away lightly not wanting to hurt him and you hate yourself for doing so. Because you keep on giving him hopes. You don’t mind before because you didn’t have Changmin. But now you have him and you want to cut this non-existent relationship that you and Jaehyun has caught in. You want to stop giving him hopes even if you have no clue how to. You will try anything for god sake.

“I bought something for you.” He pulls out a dark blue velvet box from his pocket and your world came crushing down even you know this will come. You covered your mouth to hide the quivering of your lips when he open the box revealing a diamond ring inside it. If people who doesn’t know your situation they might be feel happy for you. But you almost broke into tears when the guilt started to eat you up. How could you push him when all you could see inside his eyes was sincerity. You stare at his sweet smiley face that was gleaming and it rip you apart because you’re going to take his happiness away. You are the one to blame when his smiles fades and you are the bad guy who will break his heart.  

“Can you please marry me? You still can take your master if you want. We can sort things out just like we always did when we’re in high school.” And at the moment you prayed to god that the ground swallowed you whole and you try to avoid his eyes but somehow your eyes found at a pair of eyes that you adores so much from inside the restaurant standing still probably saw the whole thing. You could feel your heart and head stop working and all your senses numbed when you saw the hurt in his eyes. He look away and walked out the door to the opposite side from where you and Jaehyun were and you started to panic.

“Changmin-ah.” You called and started to run after him. But luck wasn’t at you side when he got into his car and drive away leaving you behind.

“No please. Changmin.” You scream on top of your lungs running to the busy road and almost got hit by a speeding car if it wasn’t Kevin who pull you away from the road.

“Kevin.” You whispered as he grab your both arms trying to get you on your senses.

“Just let him settles first. Just let him be.” He pulls you into his embrace as you break down in tears.

“Y/N.” You heard Jaehyun calling your name but you refuse to look up. You afraid that you’ll lash him out when it was your fault in the first place. You know you just broke his heart too and it will kill you to see his face now. You can’t even apologize to him. Its too late now for everything. Its too late to apologize, its too late to explain. Its too late to fix thing and everything was your fault.  

“Take me home please Kevin. Take me home.” You plead and you could feel he’s turning his head to Jaehyun.

“I’ll call you later hyung. I’m sorry.” He said before starts walking to your dorm leaving the guy behind.

“I should have warned you yesterday I’m sorry. I just don’t think..” you both were almost at your dorm when he breaks the silence between you two which made you stop walking.

“You knew?” You push his body away from you to take a look on his face. You felt you scalp tightens and got goosebumps from his words.

“Why didn’t tell me Kevin?” You snap at him and trying to throw all the blame at him entirely because you’re being denial. You cant register what you have lose in the span of just thirty minute and now you’re going to lose your best friend too. He was taken aback by your sudden rage at him.

“I didn’t know you already made it official with Changmin Y/N. All of you three are my friend. It wont be fair for Jaehyun hyung If I told you about his plans. Do you think I have the choice? Even if I have I cant choose sides. You all are my friend. I didn’t choose to stuck in your love triangle Y/N. But I have warned you about Jaehyun’s hyung feeling and you did nothing about it. You left the poor guy standing on cliff for god sake.” You cover your mouth as his words hit you hard and pull you back to reality. He was right. It was your fault. It will always be your fault. You throw yourself into the mess.

“Don’t blame me for things that you have started. I’ve done my part Y/N.” He lashes out on you making you broke harder into tears. You feel bad for lashing on him and you run back to your dorm leaving him behind and lock yourself in your bedroom crying all night.

You didn’t attend class the next day, you decided to drive to Changmin’s apartment to apologize and explain everything to him. But when you’re sure you saw his car parked on the parking lot, you went up to his floor and rang his bell. When he didn’t answer the first four time you called him, you knock his door on repeat. But his neighbor came out instead greeting you.

“He went to his parents just now.” He said.

“But his car is downstairs.” You force a smile when you felt yourself frowning to his answer. You’re still being denial. Your sleep deprivation didn’t help much when you’re at your most fragile state that you almost broke down at every mention of his name. But you fight it because you need to find him.

“Yeah he usually take the train whenever he head to his parents. I think you can still catch him now.” He said again watching his watch and you thanked him before rushing to the station looking for him franticly. You know you’re on the right place as his neighbor told you. You force yourself to run everywhere looking at people faces even your energy was drained. You stop to catch your breath almost losing hope after running here and there for a few round. You straightens your back when you sense someone was looking at you. When you look up inside the train, you saw him looking at you without any emotion. As if you’re a stranger to him, you were holding back another sets of tear mouthing ‘please’ to him, begging for him to stay, to listen to you just once. You began to panic when the train door was closing and started moving.

“No. No please. Changmin-ah.” You call as you break down again chasing after him banging the side of the train and running dangerously close to the train. While him, he just looked away from you.

“Changmin please.” You pleaded before stop when you reach the end of the platform. You fall to your knee crying shamelessly ignoring the people who was looking at you. You prayed so hard that you have enough courage to just jump on the railways and kill yourself.

You cried and cried and cried as if no one was watching you until you feel someone wraps a jacket over your shoulder and you look up to see Kevin who was looking back at you.

Kevin

It was during class when he got a call from Jaehyun asking him to pick her up at the station that he had to rush out and take a taxi and sprint to the platform where he saw she was still crying on her knees hands covering her face. He took off his jacket and walked to her covering her petite body and it break him when she look up to him with her swollen eyes from crying. He pulls her up and keep her face covered because some people already taking video of her and take her away from the crowd.

“What are you doing there?” He asked after they both arrives at his shared apartment with Jacob and Eric. He help her settles on the couch before sitting down next to her.

“I was trying to looking for Changmin.” She said in between her sobs.  

“Was he there too? Why are you alone then?” He was irritated at Changmin for leaving her alone crying like that. But he can’t blame him either after what happened last night.

“He left. For good.” She cries harder at her own word and it hurts him too to see her like that. How he wish he could just told her about Jaehyun plans or told Jaehyun about her feeling on her behalf. He had nothing to say because he know how much she love Changmin even before they started dating. He pulls her body closer to him letting her cry on his shoulder.

“How did you know I was there?”

“Jaehyun was looking for Changmin too, but he saw you came out from Changmin’s apartment building and he followed your car. He wanted to comfort you, but he’s afraid that he’ll end up messing up your emotion more. So, he called me.” She didn’t react to his explanation but he know she was lost too. This is her first heartbreak and to put all the blame on her isn’t fair because it's like blaming her for being innocent. For being too nice not daring to reject Jaehyun because she was afraid, she’ll hurt him. But in the end, everyone is hurt.

“I’m sorry Kev, for everything I said last night.” He pat her head slowly.  

“Its fine.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you along with this shit that I made.”

“Hush. Just stop crying. You’ll find another one.” He know it was impossible for her because she’s kind of reserved whenever she is around strangers and it’s a miracle that Changmin could get through the thick wall that she have built up to separate her from others. Even Jaehyun who she have known for years couldn’t make it into her heart after years of trying.

While he himself was a special case, he met her during registration when he and she both came late and almost got into trouble if wasn’t for him who talked the dean out saving both asses from penalties. He’s been the only person she ever talked to and became best friend ever since. He helped her deal with her anti social even she didn’t change much, but he helped her out with gaining confidence while singing by forcing her to sing with his friend Jacob every weekend. He met Jaehyun through her when she constantly avoiding the guy by hiding behind his back and he had to make up tons of excuses for her to get away from him.

“I wont say that I know how you feel because it would be a lie. But lets just focus on this week. Its your long awaited solo. Lets focus solely on that. Okay?” He caress her hair gently and she nodded.

“You can sleep upstairs, Jacob and Eric will be back soon and I don’t want them to see you like this.”  

“Thank you Kevin. What would I do without you.” She lifts her head from his shoulder and he could feel his heart suddenly beating abnormally harder at the close proximate of her face with his chin that he could feel her breath tickles his skin.

He straightens his body up pushing her gently away from his shoulder to shake any feeling from forming inside him even he know it was always been there.

“You’ll live Y/N. I promise.” He looked into her red eyes and then to her red nose making him chuckle.

“What.” She whined adorably still so fragile.

“You look like a clown. Your nose.” He was about to poke it but stop himself from doing so afraid he would fall by such a simple gesture.

“You should get some rest.” He exhaled still looking at her wearing his jacket and she still look good even when she’s a mess and it hurts him to see her like that. He sent her to his room before decided to call Changmin himself. But all his calls goes straight to the voicemails.

A/N: This one a bit long but thank you anyway for reading it. Ahh Kevin, my second bias, i just couldn’t help to put some back story about him and how he’s been crushing on reader for quite sometimes. But that’s just it. He might be getting his own fics later. but i hope you enjoyed this one. Two more chapter will be shorter i promise. Thank you again.

[rajasw0rld]

I BINGE EAT LIKE A MF

So I just completed a yoga video on yoga for overeating, and i feel like it got the physical part of overeating, but not the mental/emotional part. I looked at the comments and I saw a lot of people saying they struggle with overeating so: consider this an extended comment on the video.

I wake up: groggy and dehydrated and with a knot I'm my stomach. I look at my bed: crumbs of pizza, tobacco, and whatever the hell else sprinkle my sheets and make me itchy.

I feel terrible, but mostly about myself.

It kinda goes like this: I overeat, and them reminisce about all the healthy eating i was doing before, and lament on my current situation. Then fatphobia creeps in, and I feel deathly afraid of gaining weight, that the little outline of a shadow of an ab that i worked so hard for will disappear (as well as my friends and family and happiness), never to be seen again.

Sure, I catastrophize. But that’s kinda the point, right?

What is it that makes binge eating so high stakes? Would it still be called binge eating if the despair and depression don't come after? Would it just be called “a really good dinner” instead, if the eater felt good about themselves afterward? Or is it 100% a binge every time you eat way too much, no matter how you feel about it in the moment or after?

To be clear, I have never been diagnosed with binge eating disorder, but I do recognize that I have disordered eating habits at times, although its become much better with time (thank you God).

Anyway, the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) defines binge eating as follows:

“Binge eating disorder (BED) is a severe, life-threatening, and treatable eating disorder characterized by recurrent episodes of eating large quantities of food (often very quickly and to the point of discomfort); a feeling of a loss of control during the binge; experiencing shame, distress or guilt afterwards; and not regularly using unhealthy compensatory measures (e.g., purging) to counter the binge eating. It is the most common eating disorder in the United States.” (emphasis added)

So clearly I added that emphasis at the last sentence because I am presently shook that its the most common eating disorder in the nation! So there’s other folks secretly ordering uber eats at night and tip toeing down the stairs so that your roommates won’t hear you shamefully picking up your third dinner? There’s other people throwing away their own personal gargantuan trash bag of disposable and poisonous for the environment eating utensils and containers (after a few second dinners over the course of the week)? Egad, man. I’m relieved as fuck in this moment.

Coming from an incredibly violent and incredibly violently rich white college during my formative years, I grew used to feeling like an outlier, although I was outgoing and garnered positive attention from peers, it always felt like a tokenized spotlight, controlled by liberal arms and which shone a “progressive” light on whichever Black it shined on.

And then there were the times I felt alone. Which, I appreciated, because at least it didn’t feel like a fucking lie encrusted betwixt the previously braced teeth of the rich whites who owned them. At least when those same folks who shone their token spotlight on me ignored me after class or on the quad, I knew that then they were being genuine. My pain made more sense on the sobering, brutal plane of casual racism. It also gave me the cold, hard justification I felt I needed to eat until I physically hurt inside.

There’s also precedence for my disordered eating. Growing up incredibly poor, we ate like hunter gatherers—living between feast and famine. As one of seven, we were hiding snacks from each other and trying to save and stockpile food when we could, just to enjoy the human right of eating a bit more each day.

In Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat, the protagonist Sophie lived with her aunt in Haiti until 12, where she moved to Brooklyn to live with her mother Martine. it is a story about intergenerational trauma and the bond between mother and daughter. Later in the book we find that Sophie is bulimic; she deals with the stress of being abused by Martine by trying to control her eating. Upon finding out that her daughter is bulimic, Martine is taken aback at the waste and admits to Sophie that she gained sixty pounds during her first year in America because she could not believe there was so much food.

Was college my America? The promised land of food and resources and milk and honey? I think so, because my binge eating developed there. Every repressed memory which reared its ugly, puss filled head on the surface of my mind could be easily snuffed out by a call to dominoes and an email explaining how my fabricated cousin died so I couldn’t come to class.

I had the time, space, and emptiness of gut to develop my binge eating into something that looked like extreme health. Haunted by memories of lasting hunger and not enough, I was propelled to eat everything in sight, especially in times of distress. Like Martine, I could not believe how much I could leave behind by eating so much in front of me.

So, if you’re like me and/or Martine and you have a few dinners in front of you, I wonder if you can look behind you and kindly gaze upon the darkness you have chosen to ignore. What if that darkness is actually light, waiting to be unveiled by your beautiful, capable hands? What if a friend or therapist can help you uncover that light if the darkness is too heavy?

What if our bodies, exactly as they are now, are able to facilitate the healing we try to find through eating too much and hating ourselves after? What if its easier to love ourselves?

I don’t know.

I don’t know what I’m writing about, or if my 5 person audience has made it to the end of this post. I do hope you’ll keep looking for the light, whether you finish this post or not. I’ll keep looking too.

-R

[pomegranate-belle]

prompt if you wanna: someone starts hitting on foggy, go matt gets into a Mode™ and warns the person off, but they double down and start hitting on him harder just to spite our resident sadboy

I’m not sure if this is exaaaactly what you were looking for, but your prompt reminded me of the loose idea I had for introducing Elektra into the Gwenverse; that is, as Foggy’s college ex instead of Matt’s. And then when I was writing, this exploded into like 3000 words and became very upsetting, so I’m sorry.

—

Elektra Natchios made the hair on the back of Matt’s neck stand on end. He wasn’t scared of her — he wasn’t scared of anything — but he knew instinctively that she was more than the mean-spirited little debutante she pretended to be. Beneath her flowery, expensive perfumes, she smelled like blood and steel. Which made it all the more baffling and all the more irritating that she latched on to Foggy immediately after meeting him.

Thankfully, she made the mistake of calling him ‘Franklin’ and irrevocably soured her first impression. And although that slip was one Foggy might otherwise be willing to forgive, Matt was happy to see he also had enough sense to be wary of Elektra’s motives.

“She just reminds me of the kinds of girls who’d ask me out in high school on a dare from their friends,” he admitted to Matt one night, without bitterness or shame. “Although since she’s a diplomat’s kid I guess it’s probably more likely this is Rosalind’s doing.”

Rosalind. Foggy’s birth mother. A cutthroat attorney with her fingers in all sorts of pies. It was something Matt hadn’t considered — a reasonable explanation, he supposed, except that Elektra moved like a killer. Still, it would make a good excuse to keep Foggy out of Elektra’s claws while Matt figured out who she really worked for.

“Better not to risk it,” Matt said with a shrug. “Plenty of other fish in the sea. That’s a thing people say, right?”

The words coaxed a laugh from Foggy’s mouth.

“Maybe for you, buddy. I don’t exactly have prospects banging down my door. And she is extremely hot...” After a long pause, Foggy sighed, falling back onto his bed with a thump. “Ehh, I’m not gross enough to test if she’d sleep with me just to keep up the ruse, though. Come on, help me come up with something really mean to say to her to get her to back off, you’re scary good at stuff like that.”

It was nice, Matt thought to himself, to be appreciated for one’s talents, even the unimportant ones. He spent the next two hours concocting increasingly scathing brush-offs for Foggy to use on Elektra. Foggy sounded conflicted but impressed at every one.

—

“Foggy!” Elektra greeted brightly — then, less so. “Matthew.”

Foggy took a deep breath the way he always did when he needed to gather his courage. Matt shifted closer so their shoulders brushed; casual contact usually seemed to help, when it came to Foggy, and this time was no different.

“What do you want, Elektra?” Foggy asked sharply, and Matt was reminded with a little shiver of Foggy’s cold tone during mock debates.

“I thought we could go get a drink tonight,” Elektra replied, and Matt’s hands clenched into fists at the sound of her running her fingers up Foggy’s arm. “Maybe some dinner? I know this lovely little place with a view of the whole city. I’ll even be a gentleman and pay.”

It was the kind of joke Matt knew Foggy normally found funny. But he didn’t laugh, just shook Elektra off. The movement jostled Matt too but he hardly minded.

“Stop it!” Foggy snapped.

“Pardon?” asked Elektra, and her tone went a little icy.

“Look,” said Foggy, and he was practically shaking he was so upset, “I don’t know what you’re really after and I don’t care, but you’re a really shitty actress, ok? You’re clearly about as real as a three dollar bill and I’m not gonna date you. So buzz off.”

For once, Elektra didn’t have a smart remark to make. Her heartbeat even stumbled a little in surprise. She walked off without a word, and after he finished hyperventilating, Foggy spent the next fifteen minutes crowing about the dumbstruck look on her face. All in all it was a wonderful afternoon.

—

But Elektra didn’t give up. In fact, Foggy’s rejection only seemed to make her more determined. She appeared everywhere they went — parties, classes, study sessions. No matter how either of them told her off, she continued to crop up like a bad penny. And she... Adjusted. Slowly enough that it might seem natural to anyone who wasn’t as suspicious as Matt, she modulated her behavior around Foggy. Stopped with the horrible, saccharine attempts at seduction. Let herself be a little mean and rude, but with a softer, kinder layer underneath. Both were fake, in Matt’s expert opinion; a careful balancing act to make Elektra seem more genuine, more likable, and more like Matt. And the more he was around her, the more certain Matt became that he was the real target of her interest. She was working for the Hand, maybe, coming to check on him. Or their enemies. But either way, giving too much of a reaction would be dangerous — so Matt waited, and kept his thoughts to himself. Didn’t allow himself to respond to the way interest seeped into Foggy’s tone around Elektra, or the way she slowly and cautiously began to initiate physical contact. He tried to ignore the way Elektra subtly asked Foggy questions about him, or quietly egged him on whenever he mentioned Matt of his own accord — which was often. Matt let her gather information. She’d confront him on her own as soon as she thought she had what she needed.

—

And so she did. A month and a half after changing her strategy, once Foggy had absorbed her into their friend group against Matt’s advice, she followed Matt to Fogwell’s. He let her, because the sneaking around was frankly beginning to annoy him.

“At last,” he mused lightly, whirling around in time to catch her wrist before the blade in her hand could press against his throat, “your true colors are revealed.”

“Ooh. Very nice reflexes, Matthew.”

Matt squeezed her wrist until her weapon clattered to the floor.

“Why thank you. I think it’s time we talk, don’t you?”

Elektra lashed out with her leg, and Matt had to release her. She had the sense to keep her distance afterwards, instead of pressing the attack. Matt took the time to pick up his cane.

“Hmmm, and what should we talk about, I wonder? Me? Or is the anger in your voice about Franklin?”

Matt’s hands clenched tighter around his cane. He had about eleven different things he wanted to spit at her, but for the moment he kept his peace.

“You look like a wet cat, Matthew,” she continued to needle. “Have I struck a nerve?”

“I’m warning you,” Matt told her. “I don’t take kindly to people meddling in my affairs. I can appreciate subterfuge as much as the next person, but the jig is up, as they say. I might not know why, or who, but I know someone sent you here for me. You might as well come clean.”

Elektra just laughed her pretty, irritating little rich girl laugh.

“Oh my, you really are a piece of work, aren’t you? When they told me you were Stick’s apprentice once upon a time, I really didn’t expect... This.”

Hearing Stick’s name rankled Matt worse than her mocking about Foggy.

“Who sent you?” he demanded.

Elektra laughed.

“You couldn’t guess? The Chaste did. And it only took me a second to pick out your ridiculous little friend as the weak link. At first I thought I’d just use him to get access to you,” she mused, “but now? Now I’m having fun watching you squirm. I’m going to do everything I can to take your little boytoy away from you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Matt smiled in a way he knew frightened people, and flicked the blade in his cane up out of its sheath an inch or two.

“Au contraire, Miss Natchios,” he said. “I could kill you.”

“But you won’t, Matthew.”

She sounded very sure. More sure than Matt was.

“And why is that?” he asked her.

“Because right now a living Chaste agent is more useful to you than a dead one. You’re like me, Matthew. You get terribly bored by all this.” There was a swish of air as she waved her hand around as if to encompass the world. “Isn’t it nice to not have to pretend with someone? And besides... If you kill me here, you’ll have no way to figure out what my side is really up to.”

She had a point. Matt was still more curious than annoyed, if just barely so. And if the Chaste was going to attempt to increase their presence in the city it would behoove him to know about it as soon as possible. Damn.

“Just don’t push your luck,” Matt snapped.

When Elektra replied, he could all but hear the grin in her voice.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

And so, despite the modicum of sense that told Matt he should just slit Elektra’s throat and be done with it, their game of cat and mouse continued. They picked fights with one another more openly, more frequently. Matt could tell Elektra enjoyed it, and... Maybe he enjoyed it too. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, there was something new and interesting about living this mundane life alongside someone with the same dark secrets as him.

But that didn’t mean she let up on her determination to take Foggy from him. Every day, despite all the sense he spoke to his roommate when they were alone, Matt lost ground with Foggy to Elektra. But he knew the more emotion he let her see, the further she’d push the envelope. He had to stay placid. Detached. Cold and calculating and unfeeling.

—

Despite Matt’s intention to stay calm, he very nearly flew off the handle the afternoon he returned to the dorm and caught them kissing. Not his finest moment. Foggy, peacekeeper that he was, asked Elektra to give him and Matt some time to talk. She agreed, smacked a particularly loud peck against Foggy’s cheek for Matt’s benefit, and flounced off smugly. There were a few minutes of silence as Foggy gathered what he wanted to say, and Matt spent them seething.

“You’re still my best friend, you know,” Foggy said at last. “Me and Elektra, that doesn’t change this.”

“She’s not a good person, Foggy,” insisted Matt, and he couldn’t quite hold back the frustration bubbling through his veins that the one time he was telling the truth Foggy wouldn’t believe him.

“I know it seems like that, Matt, but Elektra and I talked and I think we were wrong about her. I... I think maybe she really does like me,” Foggy offered, and his voice went so hopeful and shy that Matt had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from grabbing the laptop off his desk and shattering it against the wall.

His patience had worn out. Something had to be done about Elektra, he vowed. Soon.

—

It was like she knew what he was planning. It took another month to corner her. By then, Foggy had fallen for her con hook, line, and sinker and Matt’s frayed nerves were beginning to take a slight but unacceptable toll on his schoolwork. Foggy had also dragged Matt out shopping to buy a silk scarf to gift to Elektra; crimson, Foggy had explained, because a flashy, beautiful color like that suited her. Never mind that she had enough money to buy anything her heart desired— Foggy was in love. Matt was torn between wanting to puke and wanting to shatter something.

This time, he was the one to follow her to Fogwell’s. It was past two in the morning, and she moved slow enough that he never lost her even though he deigned not to take to the rooftops for speed. Which made it feel like a trap, but Matt could tell they were alone, and Fogwell’s was his home turf so he had the advantage anyway.

She knew he had followed her, so he didn’t bother to sneak up on her or offer a greeting.

“Why now?” he asked instead, a little curious despite himself.

“I figured I really should work on my actual mission at some point,” Elektra said. “And you seemed like you were reaching a breaking point.”

“Ah,” Matt said. “So now we fight to the death, is that it?”

Elektra took two slow steps to the right, and Matt turned his body to follow the sound.

“We don’t have to, you know,” she told him, and sounded almost soft. “They asked me to bring you back to us if I could. You could be one of us, Matthew. Walk away from this ridiculous act. Walk away from the Hand.”

Which was senseless on its face. Matt had everything he needed. Power, control. A good life. The Chaste and the Hand were two sides of the same coin — Elektra’s people wouldn’t be able to give him anything new. Stick had been one of their best and the Hand had cut him down like an animal. No, Matt was satisfied where he was. On the winning side. Switching allegiances would buy him nothing but new masters to learn to accommodate.

“I’m happy where I’m at, thank you,” he said with as much amusement as he could muster when the words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“Liar,” Elektra retorted.

But Matt ignored her to slip off his shoes and socks. It was more pleasant to fight that way, when he could feel every vibration and movement running up through the soles of his feet. And it reminded him of the dojos in Japan, one of the few pleasant sensory memories in Matt’s life. He could almost smell the tatami if he tried. And taste the blood in his mouth. Those were the things on his mind when he and Elektra began to fight.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she told him as they traded blows, a breathless admission. “To see you really let loose. You could do this all the time if you joined us.”

She was still at it, still trying to get him to shift his allegiance. Well, two could play at that game.

“You think we’re so alike,” Matt said, grinning as he hit his stride, as the fight moved into something closer to a dance. “And we are. But that goes both ways, Elektra. There’s a darkness in you that all the Chaste’s sanctimonious brainwashing can’t stamp out. You’re not better than me. You’re not more righteous than me. We’re both just killers.”

And with those words, Matt was exactly where he wanted to be. By the switches whose placement he’d had memorized since a time when he could still see them. He hit the lights, and they flicked out with a crack of electricity. Then there was nothing but himself and Elektra, together in the darkness. No ambient buzz to cover the way Elektra’s heart began to pound, the way her breaths shortened, the silken swish of her hair as she tried in vain to spot him among the shadows.

It took just a little too long for her eyes to adjust, and Matt took ruthless advantage. To Elektra’s credit, she did manage a cut to his arm — with a thin blade, a sai, maybe, from the way she flipped it in her hand. But it wasn’t enough. It took Matt just minutes to knock her weapons away and pin her to the floor with his foot on her neck.

“I’ll make you a deal, Elektra Natchios,” he said, grinding his heel harder against her throat. “I’ll let you live — in fact, I’m such a swell guy I won’t even tell the Hand you were ever here. And in exchange, you’re going to take your talons out of Nelson.”

Point made, Matt removed his foot to let Elektra speak.

“How do you mean?” she rasped, and wisely didn’t try to attack him again.

Matt grinned.

“I’m glad you asked. You’re going to break things off with him. You’re going to make him hate you — so much that once you’re gone he won’t think of you again.”

Matt was going to keep Foggy around for the foreseeable future — and he didn’t want to hear about Elektra during any of it.

“Why do you want him so badly, Matthew?” she spat. “What’s so special about him? At least tell me that much.”

Matt shrugged, still smiling a shark’s smile.

“I have plans for him. That’s all you need to know. Now, do we have a deal?”

He held out a hand. Elektra shook it.

—

Matt listened, head tipped back against the wall of the dorm building, while two storeys above Elektra broke Foggy’s heart. It wasn’t as satisfying as he’d thought it would be. She was flat and cold and didn’t flinch, and Matt could hear every pathetic sniffle Foggy tried to hide. She finished with a particularly uncalled-for comment about Foggy’s weight, and slammed the door on her way out. Matt tilted his head to focus on the click of Elektra’s heels on the stairs, but kept getting distracted by the salt smell of Foggy’s tears. A single drop of something wet streaked down Matt’s face and he scrubbed it away with the heel of his palm, irritated. It hadn’t rained since morning, why the hell were the trees still dripping rainwater?

He set the thought aside as the door to the building opened and Elektra stepped out.

“Satisfied?” she asked over her shoulder, not even pausing as she strode away into the night.

“Immensely,” Matt replied. “But I’d be out of the city before sunrise, if I were you. Just to be safe.”

Elektra’s pace didn’t quicken, and neither did her heartbeat, but Matt thought they understood one another. It was only a few minutes until she was out of range of his perception. Once she was well and truly gone, Matt took a slow loop around the outside of the dorm building, whistling to himself, before he made his way back to his and Foggy’s room. He knocked lightly at the door before letting himself in.

“Hey, Matt,” Foggy greeted, trying and failing to sound cheerful. “Welcome home, buddy.”

He was sitting on his bed, rubbing fabric between his hands. Silk. The scarf he’d bought for Elektra, the gift he was going to give her. Matt wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved she hadn’t taken it.

“What...” Matt’s throat went suddenly and horribly tight; he had to swallow a few times before he could speak again. “Did something happen? What’s wrong?”

It was Foggy’s turn to clear his throat.

“Uh. Elektra—” His voice cracked. “Um. She broke up with me. I... I guess, um. She really was dating me because of Rosalind but... She, uh, got. Got sick of me.”

The smell of salt thickened in the air again, and there was a sudden, sharp pain in the area of Matt’s heart. He rubbed his chest idly.

“Foggy, I’m sorry.”

He received a bitter laugh in response.

“No, Matt, this isn’t... You tried to warn me. I should have trusted you.” Foggy sighed, letting the silk scarf slip through his fingers; it hit the floor with a near-silent swish. “You know, I just thought... I thought maybe somebody out there really did want me for me. Guess I won’t make that mistake again.”

Elektra had been entirely too much trouble, but in the end she’d broken first. And that had pushed Foggy further into Matt’s clutches. All was well that ended well. The more implicitly Foggy trusted Matt’s judgment, the easier he’d be to manipulate.

And yet, as Matt sat down next to Foggy and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, his stomach churned with nausea. It was the perfect moment to say something endearing and manipulative — you’ll always have me, Matt thought firmly, say you’ll always have me. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead he just sat there, uselessly, and let Foggy collect the pieces of his broken heart himself.

[minaminokyoko]

The Old Guard: A (Disappointed) Spoilertastic Review

I hate 2020.

For many reasons, of course, but there is this particular nastiness it seems to have, like it’s getting revenge on us for our past and current sins.

And the Old Guard feels like part of that revenge.

I haven’t read the graphic novel, so please understand the following review is based on the film alone. I was on board with getting to see my queen and girl crush Charlize Theron kick some ass and rock that bangin’ brunette pageboy haircut that only she can and yet what this movie gave me is a raging case of 2020. This concept isn’t anything new or original, but it should have been a walk in the park. It has solid actors and a simple premise.

So why was it total bullshit?

I’m so angry. I’ve said before how certain movies feel like someone had all the ingredients to make a hot, delicious pizza and yet when they combined them, they came up with Brussel sprouts somehow. This movie is a lazy mess. It has about a handful of decent moments, but overall, it’s negligent. It doesn’t care. It doesn’t care to show you its potential. It’s just a tired, by the numbers, dull action movie that’s wasting the talent that it managed to gather together. Maybe that’s why I’m so mad. It’s clear that this could have been fantastic, but the apathy in the writing turned into a grey, flavorless bore.

Sigh. Let’s swing the ax already and get this over with.

Overall Grade: C-/D+

Spoilers ahead.

Pros:

·         I signed on for Charlize Theron and at least I got what I wanted, which was her kicking ass but still giving us a few soft moments of vulnerability. This is why I will follow this woman to the grave. Charlize Theron is one of my favorite actresses because she’s so good at showing what women are capable of as characters. She has such a wide range of acting skills, giving us a cold, bitter woman but at the same time showing hints of inner kindness and strength and love. This movie barely has many redeeming qualities, but she’s by far one of the best parts. The movie knows it, as she is the only one we really get to “know” over the course of the film.

·         Joe and Nicky are the only other characters providing any warmth or emotion in the film. It’s badly needed. I was so let down that they didn’t show Nile’s introduction to the team because, to me, I got the sense that Joe and Nicky are the heart. They seem in touch with their emotions and not as cynical and hardened by their “immortality” as Andy. They seem to still care about helping people, even at the cost of themselves, and they could have been such a strong anchor if the movie invested more time in them. Both actors are solid and believable in the roles and it’s a pity they weren’t given more to do than to be the victims who needed rescuing.

·         The action, for the most part, is solid. It’s pretty average, though. Nothing surprising. It’s the moves you’ve seen if you watched John Wick or Atomic Blonde, so keep that in mind.

·         The effects are solid, particularly for their healing factor. It’s smooth and polished looking.

·         What little bits and pieces we see between teammates is likable. They seem genuinely fond and protective of each other and it’s not in focus enough, but when it is, it’s nice.

·         The soundtrack is pretty good.

Cons:

·         Lack of explanation. Look, I get it. You don’t want to load your entire movie up with exposition, but it’s very simple and easy to pace it out. You don’t have to dump it all in one spot, or if you do, then you can simply be strategic about it. Most good movies also know how and where to integrate the exposition and story into sequences where the characters are performing an action so that you don’t notice the exposition as you have something visual to distract you and keep your attention while you’re watching the movie. The Old Guard doesn’t care about all your questions. It just thinks you should accept whatever it jams down your throat, no matter how goddamn unbelievable it is. They explain so little of what’s going on to Nile that after the halfway point, you might as well throw up your arms and forget everything you wanted to know about the group. They answer nothing at all, yet expect Nile to throw in her lot with them for however long she’ll be alive. What’s frustrating is that you have solid actors who could pull off the emotional angles of the hard decisions they chose to make as semi-immortal beings. It pisses me off that they don’t explain anything because the motivations are what make us all care about the characters. For instance, why become soldiers? No one said they had to fight for humanity, especially since they JUST heal wounds. They aren’t super fast or super strong. They could have very easily simply acquired wealth over the centuries and used that wealth to invest in things that help people. Why do they have to be fighters? Oh, right, because it’s cooler.

·         Lazy writing. The number of plotholes in this thing, due in part to lack of explanation, is stunning. I mean, it’s just so goddamn fucking lazy. It doesn’t care about its own material. It just needs to get from Point A to Point B by taking the most shortcuts possible. I can’t handle how little the movie cares about its own content. I can go point by point for laziness. We can start with how no one wanted to ask Nile ANYTHING after she came back from the dead. They just got mad and scared, but they didn’t say anything when she was still on the military base. What the actual fuck is that? And they just left her alone afterward, expecting her to follow orders? Uh, that’s not how that works. Her friends would be asking her a billion questions and the medics would have asked her even more questions than that. She wouldn’t just be walking around of her own free will, especially not in this day and age where science is obsessed with figuring out the why of humanity. They’d have kept her locked up and started examining her the second she healed the neck wound. And that’s just right off the cuff. Don’t get me started on her five second “I don’t want to march in your parade” bullshit that is just so clearly the second act breakdown moment to have the hero come back and save them in the third act schtick. How is Nile somehow calling out Andy for killing those men in the church when she was LITERALLY a Marine, who is TRAINED TO KILL BAD PEOPLE???? That made NO sense. But again, this movie doesn’t care. It doesn’t care about fucking anything. Booker’s betrayal was painfully telegraphed and it was also another plothole, as Andy has been alive for thousands of years and would have felt that the weight of her gun would be off without its ammo. She also would’ve checked her rounds before going in hot. Then there’s even smaller details, like it being broad daylight when they’re brought into that lab and then they have a shootout but there’s NO ONE on the streets when they leave, but then they leave and THEN all the people magically reappear. Go fuck yourself. This movie is an insult to average intelligence. It just expects you to open up and swallow every bit of its bullshit over and over again, squandering its own potential. It’s so infuriating.

·         Cliché placeholder dialogue. The dialogue is so unimaginative that I’m pretty sure a bot wrote it. You can tell beat for beat what’s going to happen fifteen minutes before it happens on-screen. The movie really does not think much of its audience. It doesn’t have a unique take on pretty much anything at all, which is a crying shame, really. There are plenty of juicy angles for character and action that they could have gone for and didn’t.

·         Not enough time is spent getting to know anyone except for Andy, and even she is given drive-by characterization. Nile is a huge loss. As a black woman, I am always dying to see black women in science fiction/fantasy stories because there is a severe lack of representation. I was hoping Nile would get a bigger stake in everything, but she’s just a chess piece. The movie doesn’t delve into her life, her wants, her needs, basically anything at all. They mention her family repeatedly, but they don’t go into detail to make you care and understand what a loss it is to leave them behind. It’s especially shitty when her bonding with Booker could have been a great emotional moment. Their origins line up well. She could have had conversations with him, arguing that she should be allowed to tell her family or at least say goodbye, and Booker could share his own tragic backstory with her to explain why it’s better for them to remain solitary. Then his betrayal would have hit even harder. Then Nile would have felt personally betrayed. It’s so ridiculous that there is all this set up of pain and interesting backstories that the movie just flatout ignores. Especially Quynh. Quynh ’s story will haunt me for the rest of my days, personally, but even that was left as an untied thread. It’s clear from that pompous ending that there’s either already a sequel planned or in progress, but personally, this movie let me down so hard I hope it doesn’t happen. Not unless a much better filmmaker and writing team comes along. Quynh’s untied thread is a blatant show of how they still think they deserve your time after showing you how little they care about their own material. They introduced the idea and then abandoned it without fully exploring what it meant. It’s clear that her horrible fate is painful to them all, so not giving it the adequate time to be explored is just even more insulting to the audience.

·         Lack of imagination. For instance, we have some Mark Zuckerberg-looking villain spouting the same tired dialogue from the idiot villain in the Venom movie. There also is no creativity in the action. We could have done some fun things utilizing their healing factors during fight sequences, but there’s not much to them. Just standard punches and kicks and headshots. Then there’s the boring dead wife betrayer guy who is inexplicably left alive after accusing said cartoony villain of murdering them. He has ALL the information to take to the CIA or FBI or just ANYONE IN GENERAL IN INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES and they just bop him on the head and leave him there??? This movie doesn’t have a single original thought. It’s just regurgitating other clichés from much better movies.

I wanted this to be good. I wanted a break from 2020, but it’s clear that this year is unprecedented in how terrible it can get and how it doesn’t want us to enjoy anything. I wish I didn’t have to say these things about this movie, but I do. I honestly don’t think it’s worth a watch and that people should avoid it. It’ll inevitably do well because people don’t have anything better to do, but that’s still a shame. I’m so disappointed in all its wasted potential and I always will be.

Kyo out.