#and since i already established in the trauma fic that the well is the moment where Eddie realizes something he doesn't want to name

[lover-of-mine]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday!

I was tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @wikiangela @wildlife4life @disasterbuckdiaz @captain-hen thank you!!!

Okay so, I'm trying to finish my Eddie Begins missing scene fic this week since the ep is on the list this week for the rewatch but unfortunately, like everything I tried to write ever, this seems to have escaped my control. Have a bit of it tho. prev snippet here.

Eddie is not alone for long though, Buck is walking in soon after, fisting the ends of the sleeves of his LAFD hoodie, hair looking like he's been running his hands through it, eyes a bit wild as he takes in the IV and monitor Eddie is hooked up to. "Are you still out of it?" Buck asks, voice hoarse as he steps closer to the bed.  "I don't think so," Eddie says, words scratching his throat and he watches as Buck's shoulders relax as he drops into the chair next to him.  "That was too close, man."  "I know," Eddie says, turning his head on the pillow so he can look at Buck more comfortably. "How you feeling?" Buck asks, placing his hand on top of Eddie's, rubbing his thumb over it in a way that makes Eddie wonder if he even realizes he's doing it.  "Cold," he says and Buck chuckles a bit breathlessly. "That does tend to be a side effect of hypothermia," he says, the small smile on his lips making his whole face soften into an expression Eddie can only describe as fond. It weirdly makes him want to keep looking at him. 

imma tag @alyxmastershipper @bucks118 @housewifebuck if yhey feel like sharing <3

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi!! i’ve been searching high and low for fanfic since seeing deadpool and wolverine LOL so i was wondering if you could do either head canons or a small fic (whichever you prefer) about deadpool x reader x wolverine? either a poly relationship or both of them trying to compete and woo reader? maybe it could take place during the movie events? tysm!

Your relationship with Wade and Logan oftentimes consisted of them trying to hog your for themselves, which leads to the other getting jealous and or upset, so much so to the point where they’ll end up squabbling over you preferred more.

This is not new as the pair seemingly have something against sharing but overtime it does get better and they’re less likely to fight over you and who gets your attention.

They’ve even had it scheduled out at one point but that didn’t last as either Wade or Logan would accuse the other of prolonging their time with you to the point it was intersecting with the other pre established times slots.

Logan: Oi scrotum face! You’ve been hogging them five minutes more than established!

Wade, acting coy as he clings onto you; oh am I? I’m pretty sure my cuddle session was 11:30 until 12:30pm-

Logan: it’s 12:35 dickhead!

Wade: *gasps* oh my gosh you’re right! I guess time must’ve slipped my mind when cuddling my pookie here *boops you on the nose*

Logan: *not too impressed*

When they’re not at each other’s throats over who you love more, they’re wooing you as though you’re not already fucking dating the pair of them. Particularly Wade more so than Logan. 💀

You’d find Wade draped across your bed with a rose held between in his hands, buck naked and with nothing but a pillow to cover his dick or ‘the surprise’ he calls it.

‘You can peg me tonight.’ ;) - Wade

‘I am so honoured, ass up baby girl.’ - you (probably)

Logan isn’t use to soft touches of love, he really isn’t and so if you were to ever kiss the places where his wounds once were before they healed, he’d melt. His smile is soft as he silently watched you kiss the knuckles, completely unafraid of his claws popping out and or caressing the calluses on his palms. At long last his soul was at ease, his mind was quiet as all Logan could focus on was you being tender and soft with him as though he hadn’t lived through the past 200 years of pain, trauma and suffering.

You treated him like he was just Logan Howlett and nothing more, not wolverine, not weapon X, just Logan and only Logan for that’s who the man sitting next to you was. You helped numb the pain whilst holding his hand through the nights were he awakes breathless and his claws out and ready.

Logan panics if he were to see that he accidentally nicked you with his claws during his nightmares, for hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, and would try to push you away whenever you tried to get closer to him. He has hurt you and he shouldn’t be worthy of your comfort when all he could see was the really small nick on your arm.

‘Logan-‘

‘Don’t. I hurt you.’

‘It’s only a small cut, I’m fine Logan please.’

‘No! What if next time I cut you badly?’

Your heart broke whenever he got like this, so naturally you had to force yourself into his arms and make him come to terms with the fact that he would never hurt your willingly and grab ahold of his face, resting your foreheads together as you told him to focus on you and your breathing; showing him that you were alive and well.

Wade might as well have whined when you kissed his skin where wounds should’ve been before they healed. They’re his favourite moments between the two of you and would even imitate it back to you, but without the wounds, so it’s just him kissing your skin wherever whenever. He might even blow raspberries to keep the spirit of your somewhat goofy relationship alive and well.

Wade has photos of your dates, movie nights and such kept in somewhere in his room, whether that he a box or album, he has them and will look at them and smile because he’s a sap for making memories that’ll live forever much like him. He cares deeply about you and would even keep tokens or other random things as mementos too.

Some are more weirder than others.

‘This was a ticket when we went to the arcade.’

‘Oh this is that stick we both said looks like a penis when we took Dogpool to the dog park.’

‘This was the bandaid that you tried to use to cover my wounds before you found out either of me or wolvie could heal-‘

Logan and Wade don’t like to share, that we already know, but if someone who wasn’t aware of your polyamorous relationship with the two and decided to shoot their shot, they’d know first hand how much these men don’t play with you as Wade verbally beats them down with his crude sense of humour and Logan hovers over you, glaring as the poor person until they’ve ran away with their tail between their legs.

Remy?

Logan would growl and glare at the man while keeping a possessive hand on your waist, tugging you to his side to show that you were taken, or even have you wear his jacket to further get the point across to Remy.

Wade would just make a big joke out of it all the while having his hand in your back pocket. ‘You cant have our pookie, go get your own magic mike.’

Also when it comes to cuddling at night your either between Wade and Logan or Logan is in between you and Wade, or Wade is in between you and Logan. It changes now and then but when you’re in the middle of them both, it’s the safest you’ll ever be in your entire life, nothing can get to you and you can rest easily knowing that you’ve got two men who’d do anything to keep you safe and secure.

[astrophileous]

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

[is-on-its-way]

The moment Mulder quits

A point in which Mulder was ready to quit the minute he saw Scully hold a baby in season 7 and its effects in season 8

*this is my headcanon, its not gospel obviously Firstly, two scenes that are very linked in my head

Season 7 Ep 22 Requiem and Season 8 Ep 16 Three Words

Look at that face. That dead serious, at all costs face.

Season 7

Requiem. The culmination of Scully and Mulder's secret yearish? long quest for a baby. They've tried for a baby with IVF already. Mulder has promised her he wont give up on a miracle for her and they're well... trying basically, throughout season 7. Perhaps I would call it "hoping" for a baby. Maybe Mulder is hoping and Scully is characteristically ambivalent? Fully not using any contraceptives and I know there's a fic in there somewhere, anyway

The first scene above is why Ive never watched past the season 8 finale. nothing past them agreeing to be a family makes any sense because of Mulders face here. People knock Duchovny for not showing out when acting, but I will always be a defender of subtle acting. The way he can say an entire monologue of dialogue with the minute expressions on his face is quite breathtaking here.

Hes goes from sorrow at Scully not being able to have a baby, sorrow at her loss, sorrow at not being able to give her that; to regret at what he thinks is all his fault, at dragging her into this life; to pure love and affection for her seeing this baby in her lap and how good she is with him; and then a smile peaks out. A smile of hope that could compete with the Mona Lisa. Hope for their future and the certainty with which he knows what he wants so clearly, maybe for the first time in his life. His own family.

Like for the first time hes really deciding the cost is too much and he chooses her over the mission. He chooses their future over everything. And he's hopeful and perhaps even happy about it. which for someone with his amount of family trauma is a seismic shift. For so long he's chased the past in hope of fixing it, completely discombobulated and reckless in his search for well, his family.

Though, from the beginning of that moment in the rainy graveyard, he has slowly unconsciously coming to regard Scully as his family. In small gestures, a hand on her cheek or voicing out loud how important she is to him; to big gestures, giving up who he believes is his actual sister to save her.

We are lucky here, to be able to witness the moment the sparks of unconscious thought bloom into the flame of certainty. He follows up as well. Tells her she has to stay, that the cost doesn't outweigh the price anymore. Sure he wants to finish out this case, but he doesn't work without her, thats been established. Him telling her to stop, is his resignation as well. (There's a fit there too, with Skinner and him on the plane probably Skinner already knowing he's done.)

Thomas Flight praises subtly in acting better than I could ever articulate here:

Season 8

Mulder was weird and the PTSD was implied, but I choose to see it everywhere. After the moment in three words where Mulder tries to let them go gently because he thinks he's too damaged to be a father (Thanks @randomfoggytiger for the meta on that) (there's a fic here obviously where Scully gives him the space to be broken and also hers) After this though, he's not the Mulder as we've seen, ever. He's not the Mulder who

cares about exposing the government so he can say I told you so

cares about saving the public from the invasion

cares about finding the ultimate truth that has driven him since he found the X files

cares about solving cases and one upping the FBI, trying to force them to admit the truth out loud.

Mulder is fighting the entire season for his family.

he cares about exposing the conspiracy so everyone including his child will be safe.

he cares about saving the earth for his child's future

he cares about his childs and his families safety

he has zero concern about the FBI and what they do anymore.

In the second scene above, he's about had it with the entire conspiracy and he's downright pissed. He wants it all to end he doesn't care how. He wants to protect his child above everything. Sure he's usually reckless but this isn't for him and his self involved cause anymore, it's for his family, his wellbeing be damned at some points along the way. He states his thesis in three words while breaking into FBI files in an astonishing show of recklessness

"Look, Scully, I need to make sense of what happened to me. So that I can stop it. Because if I can't stop it, it could happen to anyone. It could happen to you. And who's to say it's going to stop there?"

I always wondered why he was putting Scully through all that, without realising this was the reason. Poor guy. There's nothing else in his purview anymore besides that baby who's in danger, and his family, so much so, when he is ultimately fired from the FBI, he's positively giddy at his newfound freedom.

If he had then gone down a path temporarily where he murdered his way through the remnants of the syndicate to assure the safety of his family John Wick style, I would've absolutely believed it.

It would've been insanely intriguing look at an evolving dynamic between Scully and Mulder. Scully law abiding Mulder reckless as always but with a different motivation. Becoming what he's always feared, to protect the family he has never had. A family he feels like he's only grasping at, as they're slipping through his fingers due to the danger and his recent and past traumas.

There's a reason a lot of the fandom sees Mulder as a happy stay at home dad post wherever they decide to end watching. Thats what he's been searching for his entire life. A happy family with loving parents. When he let go of that dream for himself in Closure, he found he could want that for his future family whatever that looked like (adoption, a miracle, etc.) in Requiem. And I personally don't believe he ever would let that dream go once he realised, I mean we all saw the devotion he had to his sister right?

In other words these are my reasons season 9 onwards make zero sense and I regard them as AU

[turtleblogatlast]

hey!!! this is less of an ask and more of a fic rec tbh 😭 but have you read 'I May be Invisible, but I Still Look Good" by Dandy over on Ao3???? It's after the movie AND Leo-centric and like he gets cursed so his spirit is ripped out of his body. It's like 125k words of wonderful storytelling

OH- but for an actual question, do you have and fic recs?? or any AU's you think people should go check out?

I tried answering this before and it erased my reply orz

ANYWAY YES I HAVE read this and I absolutely love it with every fiber of my being.❤️ 100% one of my top fics to read in this fandom that I even go back to for a reread more than once. The characters are perfectly done and the set up for the story is believable with a fantastic payoff, highly highly highly recommend to anyone who hasn’t read it yet.❤️

As for recs, I’ve always been terrible at giving recs since my memory is very bad especially for ones I haven’t read in a while.😭 Off the top of my head I can recommend (note these are practically entirely Leo-centric since he’s my special guy you understand (the others aren’t forgotten at all though!!!) - and most of these are very very well known so you’ve likely already read them…):

[Note many of these are unfinished and may remain that way - please no one harass the writers for more, let them write at their own pace if they choose to write at all]

- The Neon Void by sugarpastels is absolutely incredible, the dramatic irony of it all as we follow Leo in the state he’s in and see just how broken all the Hamatos are by his “death” is just 👌👌👌 The fact that this places with one of my favorite tropes aka “Leo being in the Prison Dimension longer than canon” is just so good. Genuinely a thoroughly gripping tale that I highly recommend. It’s not complete yet (a lot of this list isn’t) but what is there is so amazing please read (though you most likely have read it already haha)

- little kid with a big death wish and firefight by remrose are another two you’ve likely seen but by god are they worth the read. Firefight isn’t done yet but it and death wish are so amazingly well written and really go into how trauma affects people differently and how ties with family can be tested in traumatic situations. Hard subjects definitely but very maturely done. (Also I misread firefight as firelight for way too long before I realized it-)

- Power Up and Times Five by pickedcarrotsandradish are both unfinished but I can’t care because what we were given is so good that I’m fine with them as they are. Both deal with Leo’s insecurities and bad feelings about himself and, very importantly, the fics go into how these insecurities establish a base for Leo’s very real flaws and how those flaws push him to act the way he does. Very interesting and compelling stuff here!! Power Up especially does really cool things for the boys’ mystic power ups, especially Leo’s, and I loved reading about the ins and outs of what they could do.

- Race Against Life, Death, and the EPF by Cass_Phoenix is just so engaging to read??? Like I love the entire set up for it - it’s feels so fresh and like you’re in Leo’s desperate situation yourself. I was so excited whenever a new chapter came out because the atmosphere was so well done.

- A Mixed Bag by GreatlyBlessed is SHOCKINGLY not Leo-centric for once haha. It’s not completed, but again, like the others above it is so good that I recommend it anyway. This story is actually a crossover between four sets of TMNT (‘87, ‘03, ‘12, and Rise) and the dynamics set up in it are SO fun I love it. Team 2 is my fave because you have literally all my faves on that team how could I not?? I also highly appreciate that everyone gets a chance to shine and that there’s no bashing at all, they’re all just very much in character and it’s refreshing to read ❤️❤️❤️

There’s a LOAD more that I could recommend I’m sure but I don’t remember them off the top of my head at the moment.😭 If I remember I’ll come back and add them in!

(Forgot about AU’s- honestly there’s some that I see and catch up on when I see them but there’s just so many that it’s a bit difficult to keep track of sometimes! I’d have to go around and fully look through many before having a solid answer haha! The ones I do see are always so well done though, I may come back and add them here if I remember 😅)

[sun-undone]

i'm finishing up yet another rewatch because when am i not rewatching this godforsaken show and all throughout season 2, i kept honing in on all the times we see JJ with that fucking flask and how it is NEVER ADDRESSED. the most we get are the two moments in 2x01 and 2x03 when Kie's telling him to chill out before school and then when she takes the flask from his hand when she thinks he's asleep.

the fact that the closest we got to any acknowledgement of that being a deeper problem was always framed around jiara???? and now we know from the EW articles that JJ's mental health is gonna be a bigger deal (thank fucking god pates i love you and i never said anything bad about y'all) in season 3, which is the jiara season??????? it's all connected and i truly cannot believe i am praising writers for basic set up and payoff but !!!!!! i really thought the flask was their half-assed way of giving JJ some kind of individual arc when they totally dropped all his other plot lines (restitution and Luke/abuse trauma) but i could not be more happy to be proven wrong.

(i mean, they might be talking a big game now, it all comes down to the actual execution but i'm still so fucking excited that they've specifically mentioned taking a look at the pogues' mental states and it gives me a lot of hope okay)

everyone's already said this but i really think we're gonna see JJ struggling hardcore with being back home and not knowing what his place is as the dynamic of the pogues has changed so much. Cleo and Pope are paired off, since we now have confirmation that she'll be staying with him and his family. John B is gonna be reunited with his father, and he and Sarah have got each other as well. Kie has her parents to go back to, as strained as that relationship is. JJ is very clearly the odd one out.

poguelandia is the first time that JJ has ever been away from the obx. he has never existed outside the bubble of what it means to be a Maybank in the obx. so he's gotta feel so free, right?? he can provide for his family by fishing and they can get by just well enough to survive and live off the land and they have each other, and that's always been enough for JJ.

and if he and Kie gravitate closer on poguelandia like we all think they will, then all of that happiness and a taste of his surf trip dream will suddenly get ripped away from him when they have to go back home, and he's absolutely gonna spiral. he's gonna pull away and deflect and overcompensate with alcohol and use all the other immature coping mechanisms we've seen him use before, and i am so fucking ready for this angst holy shit cause there's just been so much set up for it. the pates love a fast burn so i think we were all kinda worried about the slow burn with jiara, but my expectations are officially sky high. i'm so glad that they're using the established character flaws and insecurities for JJ as part of the angst, and i'm assuming Kie's issues with her parents will be the external force adding onto that and making it even angstier.

it's not mind-blowing writing whatsoever, but after season 2 kinda let us down in terms of giving us insight into JJ's headspace, i'm just over the moon to see that it might've all been a set up for something bigger. they knew they wanted to save the deep dive into JJ's trauma for the jiara season because it's so integral to understanding how JJ receives and doesn't receive love. you can't put JJ in a romantic plot line without addressing all that trauma and self-hatred, and it's something fic writers have created masterpieces about and i can't stop saying it but i am just so fucking happy that the pates are putting it in canon. they really do care about these characters huh

if season 3 ends up being a disaster and the trauma plot line is disappointing as hell then no one saw this i didn't write it you didn't read it

[twilightarc-gm]

For the ask game, main fic, please?

For this Tag Game. Pallas~ Hiii~

So like, 'mainfic' more properly titled "This River Runs Beyond Heaven and Earth" in English...

Anyone on either the Chengxian or JC discord servers have heard something about 'mainfic'. Anyone who has read the author notes on my published stuff also know a little bit about it. It's the behemoth multi-part story I have been working on since November 2021 and is on its second draft currently.

All the world-building and plot hole filling I have ever done for Modao Zushi is in mainfic: A post-canon, canon-compliant, JC-centric, slice-of-life with some action, family drama, made into high fantasy, with fluff, some hurt/comfort and of course some angst. Features ymsj recon, OCs, established JC/ OMC, getting together chengxian, major(?) character death, mythical monsters and disastrous mayhem, along with some political drama supplemented with "the True master of Demonic Cultivation".

Also dogs and JC's menagerie of spirit animals. Because I can.

Every headcanon I have is in mainfic honestly and what can't be handled by the post-canon drama is then brought up in flashbacks, MXTX style.

1st draft was 200k at 1/3 done. 2nd Draft is probably going to hit 200k again for only a 1/4 done? Hard to tell. I keep accelerating the timeline for ymsj recon because I keep heaping on the trauma for Wei Wuxian until he breaks over and over again. 🤔 Meanwhile JC is just trying to 'let the past go' like he was challenged to do at the temple, but evil forces are very interested in his gifted golden core... Oops...

It's hard to find a good snippet for the entire story but here's something I like:

“What demon attack?” Jīn Líng snaps his attention up. “Nothing Yúnmèng Jiāng can’t handle. It might not be a real problem anymore now that I don’t have Chenqing.” Cultivators emulating the Yílíng Lǎozǔ trying to infiltrate or attack Liánhuā Wù have steeply dropped off since the Yílíng Lǎozǔ’s return. “Still, if I can train a pack to help secure the sect, it’d free up more of my people to make circuits within Hubei.” Jīn Líng flips through pages without real focus. “I still don’t understand why you have to do this. It’s like you want him to stay away.” He tosses the book back on the table and crosses his arms over his chest to emphasize what Jiāng Chéng is sure is his best angry face, but Jiāng Chéng can only see the puffy cheeks of youth and the beginnings of a tantrum. “I said he asked after you! He wants to know if you’re well! Doesn’t that mean anything? Why won’t you let me tell him anything?” There’s one book that features a mountainous breed that is kept by some Buddhist monks. It’s this one he makes notes on, weighing pros and cons of bringing such a fluffy, massive breed this far south in the humidity and near water. “Ji��jiu!” “So? He’s always been nosy. He can settle for gossip like anyone else.” No debts. They are strangers. It’s in the past. Jiāng Chéng forces himself to take a subtle, long inhale so the burning in his lungs will stop and the cord around his heart will loosen. Fairy whines as she shoves her face into his knee. “He was just…” Jīn Líng deflates; gives into a childish sulk. “He laughed it off, but for just a moment I thought maybe he didn’t like it when I said I couldn’t tell him.” Contrary to the awful subject, Jiāng Chéng does feel a deluge of gratitude that Jīn Líng is keeping his mouth shut like he was asked. Wèi Wúxiàn has already been hurt by Jiāng Chéng in both lives, so what’s the point of reminding him that they ever had a connection at all?

---

Okay, but ow I hurt myself in just this snippet 😭

[haejjoon]

AHHHHHHHH this is a bit late but i just have to say that i love your blog so much??? The fic? Emaculate. The fanart? Spectacular. The discussion and points brought up? Scratches that itch in my brain.

And god that new chapter was amazing like the changing clothes scene? Amazing. Its such a cool way of adding Lore tm to the outfit mechanic in game (i wish everyday that goro had a swimsuit outfit for me to equip :")) Ann casually being a firebender? Stunning. That sojiro and goro scene? Broke my fucking heart. I can't thank you enough for the brainworms you have fed me i feel like you characterised both coffee dad and pancake son so well. The whole goro lashing out and when it doesn't go the way it normally goes and he starts panicking due to someone actually fucking caring for him? Broke my heart, hit close to home. And i love how you wrote sojiro as well??? Like a sojiro who really is so kind and caring but has regrets and mistakes but still tries his damn hardest to care for people who need it the most? Idk man i love sojiro's character and his confidant story like it made him a character whom i actually would love to just have a coffee and chat with in real life anyways wonderful amazing job

(Also how is the akira confidant gonna go? Are the boys still going to get their homoerotic weirdly domestic trauma dumping bath scene 👀)

AW HELLO!! WELCOME TO BRAINWORM HELL i'm glad you like my work so much i hide my face in my hands <3

the changing clothes scene was so fun for me to write. actually--originally, it was supposed to be ann changing her metaverse outfit altogether (since she's clearly shown to be uncomfortable in her current one) and i was just going to leave it at that, but... it felt like i'd be pandering, if that makes sense? i want every lore change in ex machina to feel like it's Important, like it really matters. if i started changing things just because i wanted to willy nilly it'd quickly devolve into an entirely different story altogether. (rest assured though ann Will have an outfit change, it'll just be at the right moment + right explanation)

ann being a firebender is such a neat way to put it actually HELP the most she can do right now is summon fire to her palms--she's kind of like a human lighter, if that makes sense? she can individually set her fingers and her entire hand on fire if she concentrates, but she can't throw it around like zuko might in atla (.. not yet, anyway).

i'm glad you liked the sojiro scene. it's one i'll always keep near and dear to my heart. i'm aware that ex machina isn't... an easy read, by any means, considering how little it sugarcoats the issues brought forth in p5's plot, but i don't want it to be an easy read. i want people to consume it and take time to digest it. if they want something more lighthearted this isn't it--though i'm sure i'll end up writing something sillier in the future. (been playing around with a no powers/college university au in my head, it isn't the most inspired but shenanigans r cute...)

sojiro, at his core, is a kind man. i read it somewhere on tumblr or twitter, but it's very telling that out of all the social stats you can build when hanging out with him, it's kindness. logically, proficiency makes more sense--you're learning the tools of the trade, you're building a skillset that'll no doubt serve you well into the future--but you get kindness. because sojiro sakura is a kind, kind man. it's important, and it must be established clearly. i'm glad i executed it well enough <3

(HAH OF COURSE THEY'LL GET THEIR BATH SCENE. making it my personal mission to make every hangout even more homoerotic than canon already depicts--i don't know if you saw it underneath the absolute ocean of asks littering my page, but i drew out their rank 1 hangout + their subsequent call. it was a lot of fun. check it out if you haven't <3)

as always, thank you for such a lovely conversation. seriously, what a way to kick off my morning. i'm gna be in such a good mood for the rest of the day--i hope you have a great one, as well!

[branches-of-time]

It Ain't The Whiskey

"You climb the rest of the way up, and settle down behind him, wrapping your protective arms around his small frame.

He takes note of your trembling hands, and gently wraps them in his.

He takes a deep breath in, thinking for a moment, and breaks the silence.

'You smell like chocolate… and coffee.'

You huff a little, more of a laugh than a noise of offense, and nuzzle your face down into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck.

'Mhm..' you hum, and pull back, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. '…and you smell like wine.'”

Pairing: Venti x Reader - Established Relationship, GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,831

Synopsis: One too many people give their two cents on Venti- both his appearance and his music, leading you to learn something about the God-turned-bard that you'd already suspected for a long time.

Contains: Angst, Excessive Drinking, Fear, Graphic (?) Descriptions of Violent Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Past Trauma, Implied/Suggested Past Sexual Threats, Reverse Comfort, Slightly Possessive Thoughts, Unwanted Suggestive Commentary

(I don't think the fic is as dark as the CWs make it seem I just want to be thorough!)

A/Ns: This is fic 2 of 16 that I'm doing based on combining prompts from this list! (maybe I'll have them all up by the end of the year lmao)

Day 2 (Wisp) & Day 17 (Drunk)

Title is from the song that inspired this fic- 'It Ain't The Whiskey' by Gary Allan.

Lastly, some context- Reader is part Riftwolf, can manipulate all seven elements but has an affinity for Geo.

Believe it or not, Venti isn't everyone's favorite bard in Mondstadt.

He's popular, sure, but even he can't possibly please everyone's taste in music. Having lived for as long as he has, he isn't usually bothered by the occasional negative comment made about his performances. But you've watched some people be downright mean to him about it and he still won't retaliate. He always responds in the same friendly tone, no matter how harsh some people's words are. Like maybe if he's nice enough, it'll rub off on them too.. or something. You're not really sure what his reasons are for the way he behaves sometimes.

You love him regardless of his tendency to be a bit of a pushover. Besides, you can and have been aggressive enough to balance out his gentle nature on many occasions. Not to him, mind you. You're not sure if you could be aggressive towards him if you had to. Towards everyone else though.. your tolerance for bullshit is low. You've finally found some peace, and you're going to protect it.

It's almost funny, how different the two of you are. He's too nice, you're too mean. He's passive, you're aggressive. He's light, you're heavy. He's bright, you're dark. He's warm, you're cold. He's loud, you're quiet. He plays with the wind, you command the earth. He fights from a distance, you run straight into the fray. He takes his hits and you put up a shield.

He was kicked out of heaven... and you crawled out of hell.

He's taught you many things since the two of you met. One of those lessons being- some things don't get easier to handle with the passage of time. If you don't treat them, if you don't nurse the wound... some things actually just get worse.

~

You're working the bar alongside Charles at Angel's Share tonight.

You didn't expect your appearance there during Bartender's Academy Week to turn into such a popular event, but even after all this time, wherever you go in Teyvat, a crowd seems to follow. So, after it was over, and when Diluc realized that he wasn't going to be able to escape the never-ending questions from patrons about when you were going to return, he offered you a part-time position. Well, really, it was more of a- "I know you're busy but could you please stop by the tavern and work a shift whenever you're in the area so they'll stop pestering me about it" -type of offer, if you were to quote Master Diluc verbatim.

So, your appearances slowly became more and more frequent as you began to fall in love with the job. You weren't really in dire need of the mora, you just genuinely loved being there. After many, many years of traversing worlds, fighting Gods and monsters alike, settling down for a while and spending time in Mondstadt was a very welcome change of pace. Mixing and serving drinks, chatting with your favorite people, and- of course- watching Venti in his element.

Standing in your spot behind the bar, your left hip is propped against it, leaning back with your shoulders against the wall in the far right corner of the room. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in deep and listening to the sound of your partner's voice filling the tavern. Looking down, you stir and sip on a hot, fresh Moonlit Alley that you’ve just made for yourself, cradled in your always-cold hands. Your third of the evening, actually. Another perk of working here, besides admiring Venti in your free time, is making your own drinks. Honestly, with the fact that both you and Venti drink here for free, and that Diluc’s paying you, you’re not sure how he isn’t losing out on mora here. You’ll file that question away for another day, you suppose.

Charles has stepped out the back door for a break, leaving you to man the bar for a little while. Fine by you, considering that business has slowed down considerably for the day anyways. The evening has slipped into night, and the usual rush of customers has settled down to just the regulars that tend to stick around until closing.

Venti, in his usual high spirits, has haphazardly kicked his shoes off and perched himself atop a table in the center of the room. Sitting with his legs crossed and lyre in his arms, he’s currently performing one of the songs he plays most often. You know it by heart at this point, with how much you hear him strumming the tune, but you could never get tired of hearing him sing.

The same thing cannot, apparently, be said by one particularly inebriated individual sitting at the far end of the bar you’re leaning against. He’s been unpleasant all evening, grumbling to himself about one thing or other underneath his breath. You been trying to be nice and not bother him, hoping he’ll drink his fill and stumble on home sooner than later, but things never go as smoothly as you hope when alcohol is involved.

Without warning, he slams his fist down on the bar, the impact and the noise causing you to flinch. The sudden movement sloshes your drink all down the front of your shirt, and you quietly curse. The music coming from the other side of the tavern immediately ceases, causing you to look up and momentarily lock eyes with Venti. You see something alert and intense flash in his eyes and the next second it’s gone- replaced with his usual half-lidded, relaxed, ten-glasses-and-seven-shots-in expression. He saw the way the man made you flinch.

Before you can register what could have possibly set the man off, or question Venti’s momentary break in character, the man is stomping his way over to the group of people gathered around the bard.

Well, stomping may be putting it generously. While he is of a pretty large stature, and his loud, drunken movements are a bit intimidating, he’s more-so stumbling than he is stomping. Which is intimidating in it's own right considering he looks like he could and would crush any unfortunate soul he happened to land on if he fell. He gets a little too close to Venti for your liking and you don’t understand why your body won’t move. You want to go over there. You want to put yourself between Venti and this threat. You want to knock him on his ass and drag him out the door after the way he’s been acting all night.

Instead of doing any of those things, your feet stay glued to the floor and your back stays pressed against the wall behind the bar. You can’t believe yourself. You’ve fought literal Gods and you can’t make yourself face one angry, drunk man. Maybe you really have gotten soft, spending so much time in a place as safe and calm as the City of Freedom.

You suddenly remember how Barbatos said he'd help you learn about peace and composure. How to cope with your innate urge to fight. You're starting to think that maybe you've learned too much, because now your body can't decide what to do with itself.

With Venti’s intimate connection to the wind, he can easily hear how rapid your breathing has become, even from the other side of the tavern. He can tell that you’re fighting with yourself over what to do here. Wanting to defend him, and wanting to hide. Not knowing which side of yourself to obey.

Venti knows you. He knows what you'd do to the man if you got your hands on him. When you look up again to watch the scene unfolding, he catches your eyes and whispers something that somehow, only you can hear.

“Stay where you are, love.

You know I can handle this.

It’s okay. I swear.”

Of course, leave it to Venti to speak so poetically while you’re having an internal crisis.

His words do distract you enough to calm you down a bit, though. You try to focus on your breathing as Venti shifts his attention to the man who has braced himself against a table, thankfully not trying to get any closer to Venti. Apparently he just wants someone to yell at, given what comes out of his mouth next.

“Do you even KNOW any other songs?!”

Venti cocks his head to the side a little bit, doing a great job of looking genuinely confused at the man’s words. He keeps any hint of offense out of his voice when he responds, friendly and upbeat as ever.

“Uhm.. pardon me, Sir? I know many songs! If there’s something else you’d like to hear, I’d be happy to play it!”

How he can be so kind in the face of cruelty will never cease to astonish you.

Images of him on the ground in front of the cathedral flash in your mind. The way he refused to fight back against Signora. You remember ice, and hands forcing you down to the concrete. You remember being weak. You remember burning rage. You wanted to claw your way inside her chest and tear her heart out for having the audacity to lay hands upon your God.

You wish he’d quit letting people take their anger out on him, but... maybe he knows something you don’t. Maybe he feels responsible to take these people's rage. Maybe.. maybe he’s just too goddamn passive. You quickly dismiss the upsetting images and thoughts, shaking your head so hard it makes you dizzy for a moment. You do not have time to be caught up in the past right now.

You tune back in to the man’s slurring words.

“Oh, don’t give me that act, bard. Sitting here all pretty in that little outfit... trying to.. tryna’ be all cute and polite 'n ssshit.”

You bristle upon hearing the man call Venti pretty like that.

You know what he's implying and it makes you want to wrap your hands around his throat. Dig your razor sharp nails in deep. You'd watch as his skin beneath your hands begins to dissolve in response to your Corrosion. Watch his blood seep out between your fingers. You want to make him beg for your mercy. Make him repent for uttering such words in the face of a God.

You want to.

You need to move.

Why won't your fucking feet move.

As you silently fight yourself, the man keeps speaking.

“You’re no better than the rest of us drunkards here and you know it. Comin’ in here every night and slammin’ drinks back, pulling out that fuckin' harp 'n playin’ the same. damn. songs. every night."

His fist slams down on the table over and over as he speaks, emphasizing his words.

You flinch every time.

Why can't you breathe?

He sweeps his arm out across the table as he stands up, knocking a bottle and two mugs off in the process. You hear the glass bottle shatter, and watch the spilled alcohol spread out across the floorboards as if in slow motion.

"I’m sick of hearin’ it!”

The room quickly erupts into a cacophony of drunken arguing. The well-meaning patrons jumping to Venti’s defense would have been heartwarming if it weren’t for the chaos being created, the burning hot coffee soaking your shirt, and the indecipherable look on Venti’s face. He’s still sitting there, an almost hurt look in his eyes, gripping his lyre tight as he watches everyone argue around him. He doesn’t look scared as much as he looks... disappointed. Concerned. Solemn.

Sober.

Your eyes break away from Venti when Charles comes into your field of view, and you barely register him asking if you’re okay. You nod on instinct, dismissing the mess on your shirt and the counter, far too focused on the ever-rising voices arguing in the background. He turns his attention to the man that is continuing to cause a scene, and quickly makes his way over to diffuse the situation.

“Excuse me.. Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave..”

As Charles uses his years of experience dealing with drunk, upset people to bring the arguing to a close and ushers the men out of the tavern, you just can’t stop watching Venti. He’s acting so.. different. The way he instantly went from loud, drunk, almost tripping over himself climbing up onto the table earlier, to now, looking as sober and solemn as ever.. it’s odd.

He takes a deep breath and dismisses his lyre back into the void. Your eyes follow him as he gingerly slides down off the table, quickly slips his shoes on without any trouble or sign of losing his balance, and quietly makes his way up the stairs to the second floor of the tavern.

Like he was never even drunk in the first place.

Like he was acting.

As the last of the customers leave their apologies and payments at the bar and make their way out of the tavern, you finally pull yourself out of your thoughts and back into the present. Your breathing is still shallow and fast, but your feet will move again, your body finally obeying the commands you’re giving it. You curse yourself over and over for freezing up the way you did.

Grabbing a towel, you start wiping up the mess on the counter. Your racing thoughts wander to places you don’t want them to go.

If that man had wanted to.. he could have…

He was close enough to Venti to…

Would he even have defended himself if that man had…

You weren’t there to protect him.

Charles comes back in as you’re attempting to soak up the worst of the drink you spilled out of your shirt.

“I’m sorry. Should’ve known the moment I went out on break somebody was gonna cause a scene.”

He watches as you aggressively scrub at the mess, honestly just making it worse.

He cocks his head at you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You realize your efforts to remove the stain are pointless. You breathe a heavy sigh and turn your attention to Charles.

“Yeah… yeah man, I’m alright. I’ve faced far, far more intimidating things than some big drunk guy yelling a bunch of nonsense. You know me. I’m good... he just caught me off guard.”

Why do you feel like you’re lying?

You’re fine.. right?

You wished your voice sounded more sure of your words, but you can’t really help it at this point. You just want to go find Venti, but you continue trying to explain yourself. Charles is already more aware of your.. issues than you realize but he listens nonetheless.

“The atmosphere here is usually so calm at night, and I was just watching Venti like usual and.. I don’t know. That guy’s rage just came out of nowhere and made me jump. I’m fine. Honestly.”

There’s something knowing and empathetic in Charles’ eyes.

“Alright, well.. if you say you’re okay, I believe you. But still, Venti seems to have vanished, you've clearly had a long day, and I’m sure you want to go home and change clothes. Why don’t you let me clean up here and you can go ahead and head out?”

Wasting no time, he's already started picking up the pieces of the broken bottle on the floor.

As tempting as the offer sounds, you feel bad just walking out of here like this. The mess isn’t that bad but still…

“I- I can’t make you do that, it’s not even your mess and it won’t take that long to clean up.. I mean-"

You stop speaking when he turns around and gives you a pointed look, a kind smile on his face.

“I’ve cleaned up this tavern by myself more times than I can count. If I really didn’t like it, I wouldn’t work here. Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m happy to wrap things up here.”

You sigh, making a mental note to pay him back for this favor, and you gratefully accept his offer.

“Okay.. okay, yeah.. thank you, Charles. I really appreciate it.”

You quickly make your way over to the stairs, following the fading trail of Anemo feathers that only you can see.

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just go find that boyfriend of yours before he disappears into thin air again.”

Charles laughs a little, a lighthearted sound, as he says that. You process what he said about halfway up the stairs and you whip your head around to look at him. You almost speak up to ask how he knew you were following Venti's trail but he’s already made his way into the back room to gather cleaning supplies. You shake your head, deciding to let it go because right now… with the way he worded that… you are too tired to try and figure out exactly how much he really does know about Venti.

Besides, bartenders are good at keeping secrets.

~

Venti isn’t on the second floor. Your elemental sight tells you that he didn’t sneak his way up to the storage room on the third floor either. Following the little Anemo feathers that Venti leaves in his wake, you instead are lead out to the balcony. Stepping outside, you immediately take in a breath of fresh, cool night air. As much as you love spending time inside the tavern, the first deep breath you take after exiting the establishment is always a welcome relief.

It would be even more relieving if Venti were out here, but of course, he’s never been that easy to find.

The trail of Anemo feathers has ended in a sizable group of them scattered across the edge of the balcony. Almost like he summoned the winds to take him up higher…

Oh.

Of course.

He’s on the roof.

As you make your way up to the top of Angel’s Share, you hear a familiar sound. It’s not a sound you’d ever heard before coming to Teyvat. After all, nowhere else you’ve been has had creatures such as these.

Peeking your head up over the edge of the roof, you see exactly what you thought you would. He's sat down, straddling one of the higher ridges atop the tavern. Several little wind wisps are hovering around him, chirping and speaking to Venti in a language you’ve yet to understand. They’re flocking to him like he’s their mother or something.

Hm.

You quickly file that question away for another day, too.

You haul yourself up onto the roof, as gracefully as you can after the night you’ve just had, trying not to disturb any of them.

Venti’s head tilts, looking down at you. He looks so tired… and there’s a quiet sadness in his eyes. It’s times like this that he looks a lot less like Venti, and a lot more like Barbatos to you. To the unfamiliar eye there probably isn’t much of a difference, but you know him better than that.

It’s something in his face. Something in his eyes. In the way he carries himself, and the way he speaks. It’s subtle, but it’s there. A knowing look that can only come from centuries of experience. A sort of… quiet acceptance.

He is fascinating to you, but you didn’t come up here just to stare at him from afar.

Nodding towards the wisps flitting about all around him, you softly speak.

“Do you think they’ll flee if I get any closer to you?”

He smiles a little bit at your question, his eyes soften, and he shakes his head slowly.

“They’re not afraid of you. I’ve told them who you are. You're welcome to come closer if you’d like.”

He says that like he doesn’t already know how badly you want to wrap him up in a hug and apologize for everything that happened this evening. You know it’s not completely your fault but you still feel so guilty, like you could have done more. Like you should have done more. Like you failed him when your body betrayed you and chose to freeze instead of fight.

You climb the rest of the way up, and settle down behind him, wrapping your protective arms around his small frame.

He takes note of your trembling hands, and gently wraps them in his.

He takes a deep breath in, thinking for a moment, and breaks the silence.

“You smell like chocolate… and coffee.”

You huff a little, more of a laugh than a noise of offense, and nuzzle your face down into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck.

“Mhm..” you hum, and pull back, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. “…and you smell like wine.”

You look down and watch as his hat, discarded on the roof beside him, begins to float a little bit. Before you can even be properly confused, one of the wisps slips out from underneath it, and chirps in success as it ascends to float around with the others.

“Did you trap that thing underneath your hat?”

That gets a proper laugh out of him, albeit a small one, and he shakes his head again.

“No, of course not. I'll have you know that it crawled under there of its own volition.”

He gently reaches out and slowly picks his hat up, revealing two more wisps cuddled up together like they were camping and his hat was the tent. They chirp loudly in protest of having their cover blown. Venti smiles.

“They like to hide in there sometimes, what can I say?”

You watch as he gently places the hat back down over them, and reaches back to his lap to take your hands in his again.

They’re shaking a bit less now.

You think for a moment, and speak again.

“They’re really cute, you know. How they’re so playful with you. They really trust you, don’t they?”

He nods, slowly reaching one hand out and holding it open in the air. One wisp flies over and gently lowers itself into his palm, curling up into a ball and resting there.

“We’re like family, you know. They know that I’ll protect them.”

Watching him like this, perfectly still, calm, steady and gentle, it’s really hard to believe that less than an hour ago he was just drunk off his ass, throwing back shots and climbing on furniture to sing whatever song was requested of him next.

Like, really hard to believe.

You figure now is as good of a time as ever to ask the question that you've been sitting on for quite a long time now.

“You’re completely sober, aren’t you, Venti?”

To his credit, he doesn't even seem caught off guard by the sudden question. He knows that you've suspected this for a while, and was almost waiting to see how long it would take you to figure him out.

He nods, looking straight ahead, out over the empty streets of the city. From your position behind him, you lean to the left, around his side to try and see his expression better as he answers you.

“I always have been, love.”

You breathe a sigh of relief that you didn't even notice you had been holding, and it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"You watch me so closely... and you're around me so often, I'm almost surprised it took you this long to ask me that, Windblume."

He doesn't sound disappointed, or upset that you've figured out his secret. He almost sounds relieved.

"Well, I think I've known it for quite a while, actually, I just.. wasn't sure, and didn't want to ask until I was. I always thought that with you being.." you lower your voice even further before you speak your next words, "an Archon..."

As you pause to choose your words carefully, you slide your right hand up his arm, from his wrist to his elbow and over his bicep, stopping to rest on his right shoulder. Absentmindedly, you start to massage your thumb into the tense muscles there. He's always holding more tension than he seems to be.

"...I thought that you might just have a really high tolerance, and that it wore off really quickly afterwards, too. But then sometimes, while I watch you perform, or just joke around with people in the tavern, you seem to almost.. break character sometimes."

He hums and nods a little in response to your words, not interrupting but wanting you to know that he's listening.

"Like.. like you were acting, for lack of a better way to put it. You could snap out of it and right back in so quickly that I started to wonder if you were ever actually drunk in the first place. Just like tonight, when you suddenly broke character to tell me that everything was okay. Then, the way you watched the scene unfold and quickly slipped out of the room... it just didn't add up how you could switch so quickly if you were truly intoxicated."

Venti leans back into you and lets your words hang in the air for a moment, processing them.

"You're too damn observant, you know that?"

You're relieved when you can clearly hear the smile in his voice.

"You're right though, about all of it. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough wine in the world to get me drunk. Archons aren't capable of getting drunk on something as weak as alcohol. No matter how strong the brew, it just doesn't affect us like that. It's like trying to get drunk off of apple juice. It tastes really nice, sure, and too much of it can make you feel sick from the sugar, but it won't intoxicate you."

You hum in thought, and another question pops into your mind, though you believe you may already know the answer.

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, why do you drink so much? Or... why do you drink it at all?"

Due to the way he's leaning back into you, the laughter that bubbles up out of him in reaction to your question jostles you both.

"How do I explain it... Well, you know how you love the taste, and the experience of making and drinking coffee?"

"Yeah..?"

"Still, you don't like what the caffeine does to you, so you drink decaf instead."

Of course, he's found another parallel between the two of you.

"It's like that! I truly do love the taste of wine, and all sorts of spirits for that matter. I also love the atmosphere of the tavern. I get to be among my people, sing and drink to my hearts content, and.. yes, I do get to act like... like someone I'm not, I suppose."

He sighs a little bit, almost feeling guilty about the admission.

"I get to forget that I'm this powerful celestial being and for a while... I can just be Venti. He's a fun character to play, I guess. Not that the things I do and say when I'm 'drunk' aren't genuine, mind you."

He reaches up and does little air quotes around the word drunk, and you smile.

"I'm always me. There's just.. two different sides of me. They mix quite often, and I'm usually somewhere in between Barbatos and Venti at any given time. I'm sure you've gathered that by now."

You nod, and now it's time for you to do some explaining of your own.

"I have, love. I've definitely gathered that. Also, for the record, I love both of you, equally. I fell in love with all of you, not just one side, or one part."

You reach up and carefully tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

"I don't mind it when you're 'drunk', honestly. I obviously wouldn't be with you if I were constantly upset by part of who you are. Honestly, though... you've always kind of been an enigma to me. I never pictured myself with someone like you. Not that there's anything wrong with you, of course not. We're just so.. different. It's something that's always baffled me.. given.. my past."

Venti reaches up and removes your hand from where it's toying with his hair, pulling it forward and you let him take it. You watch as he turns his head to the left in order to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

It's still hard to revisit your past, and explain why you are the way you are. You're grateful for his silent reassurance that you don't have to go over it again. He already knows. The two of you have spent many sleepless nights with you clinging to his cape as you stain his bright white shirt with your black tears.

You already know you're gonna revisit tonight's effect on you at some point in the future. Venti knows that he'll ask you to tell him more about the first man that taught you to be so afraid. Not tonight, though. Tonight he will listen, and nothing more.

"I guess now I know why it never bothered me. Maybe deep down, I've always been able to tell that you're not really intoxicated. Now, are you high on life? Maybe, yeah.."

You both laugh at the expression, but he doesn't deny it.

"I mean, you do have quite the lively spirit when you're doing what you love. But I've never felt unsafe around you. I think my body knew that you weren't going to hurt me, even in the beginning, when my mind wasn't sure."

Venti feels a tightness in his throat upon hearing that you feel safe with him. He pushes the feeling down and speaks through it.

"I'm glad you know that you're safe with me, love. That's all I've ever wanted you to be, and equally importantly- to feel. Safe and sound."

From his own words, the need to protect you suddenly hits him again, and he sits up a little straighter.

He told himself he wouldn't pry tonight, but he has to ask one thing.

He needs to know you're gonna be okay.

"Speaking of, how are you doing? After everything that happened in there, I mean. I could tell that that man wasn't actually going to harm me, you know he couldn't even if he tried, but I know it still scared you. I'm truly sorry for that."

After everything, he's still putting your needs above his own.

You won't stand for that. You're not gonna make this about you.

Not tonight.

"Sorry? No, no- Venti- I should be the one saying that. He was posing a threat to you and I just... I just fucking froze. I should have stepped in to protect you."

There's frustration in your voice that you fail to hide, and you pray that he knows that you're upset with yourself, not him.

Venti leans away from you at that, and for a moment you think you've offended him. Your damaged mind is always thinking you've done something wrong. You watch as he carefully turns himself around to face you, disturbing the many wisps that had settled down to rest on his idle form in the process.

He looks you square in the eyes and counters your protest with a question.

"You do know that I'm with you because I love you, and not just to use you as my personal guard dog, right?"

You nod your head, and smile at his phrasing. Somebody once mentioned, upon seeing the two of you out in public together, that that's kind-of what you look like. Presumably due to the way you tend to watch over him so closely, ready to stand between him and the world, if need be. You're protective of him, and you make no effort to hide it.

"You didn't owe me anything back there, love. I knew you wanted to jump in. I also didn't want to further aggravate the situation. That's why I told you to stay behind the bar. I knew that everything would be fine."

You shake your head.

"Is it though? Are you fine? I mean.. the things he said... you know that's not true, right? None of it was. People love you, and your music, and it's his loss if he can't appreciate the stories you tell in your songs."

His eyes soften, and he sighs a little bit before he responds to you.

“Listen to me, dear. It is not your fault that he apparently had a bad day and decided to take it out on me. Everyone has their own taste, and it doesn't make him wrong for disliking my music. Was it out of line for him to berate me like that, in front of God and everybody?"

You can't help but laugh at him using the phrase that he picked up from you after hearing you say it so often. Of course, he's still trying to keep the mood light. He wants to see you smile, and you do, as he continues.

"Yeah... probably. It's okay, though. I can take it. I won't shatter just because someone got a little too drunk and decided to tell me their honest opinion.”

You can't help but notice that he's only mentioning what the man said about his music, and nothing about what he called him. Nothing about what he implied. You're torn between not pressing the issue and doubling down. If he's taught you anything, though, it's the importance of delicacy.

Gentleness.

You reach out and take his hands in yours once again. Your hands are steady now, allowing you to notice the slight tremble of his own as you thread your fingers together.

"I know.. I know you're strong. I know you can take it. But- but just because you can take it doesn't mean you should have to! You are so, so passive and... it's admirable but.. I don't know, Venti. I guess I just don't know how you do it. I'm afraid that you're secretly carrying all of these negative feelings and that one day they're gonna be too much for you to bear. I just.."

Your grip on his hands tightens.

"I don't want you to break on me, love."

Venti looks a little surprised at your words.

He bows his head and looks down for a long moment, taking a few slow, deep breaths. Both of you sit in the silence for a little while.

The wisps gather around the two of you again as you both remain still, and they get closer and closer to Venti, landing all over his form. It's almost like they're trying to hug him, you muse to yourself.

You eventually feel something wet land on your hand, and your first thought is that it's starting to rain.

Great, now you're both gonna be sad and wet.

You look up, but feel nothing hit your face. You feel another drop on your hand and you look down to where they're held in Venti's grip. Thanks to the fact that it's dark out, you're able to see that the liquid landing on your hands isn't clear rainwater. It's turquoise, and it's glowing.

He's crying.

For a brief moment you're too stunned to speak. You're not used to seeing him cry, but you find your voice in spite of your shock and speak to him softly.

"Venti? I-I didn't mean to make you cry, love.. I just.."

Your words trail off as the metaphorical dam breaks and his shoulders begin to shake from the force of his silent sobs.

"Oh, honey... sweetheart, come here."

You pull him further towards you, guiding him to wrap his arms around your waist and letting his head rest on your shoulder. He's so quiet when he cries, you'd never know it from just listening to him. His shaking body and glowing tears are a bit of a giveaway, though.

You rub circles over his back and he slowly but surely calms back down. He makes no move to pull away and neither do you, opting to stay together just as you are as he speaks again.

"I- I don't know what got into me.. I'm sorry."

"Venti, you do not ever need to apologize for crying, or for being upset."

"I just... I'm still not used to anyone caring so much about my wellbeing. It caught me off guard. I mean.. yeah, I get my feelings hurt sometimes. I'm not immune to the things people have said to me just because they think I'm some small, weak bard that can't fight back. Not to mention the things that have been said to me because they know I'm some small, weak God that won't fight back."

He pulls in a shaky breath and you pull him a little closer as you continue listening to him.

"I'm used to it.. I guess. I'd rather just let people speak their peace and carry on, thinking they got the upper hand, than cause a scene by fighting back. I'm tired of fighting, and over time I've learned it's often not even worth it. It's no fun having to act like things don't bother me, but over time I got pretty good at it."

Your heart breaks at the way he's learned to handle things.

You gently pull back from the embrace, wanting to see him properly. His cheeks are flushed from crying, and his eyes look so tired.

"Those words can still hurt you, Venti. Over time, they build up and if you don't process them somehow, they'll eat you alive."

He looks down as one of the wisps bumps into his arm. It looks up at him and, having gotten his attention, makes a series of noises that you can't decipher. From his response, it seems the wisp was echoing your sentiment.

"I know."

He looks away from the wisp and back up to you.

"I do. I guess my coping mechanisms aren't as fool-proof as they once were. I usually keep a good handle on it. I guess it's just gotten harder to do over time. Sometimes, I do wonder if I'm not getting weaker, instead of stronger, as time goes on."

He tilts his head back, looking up at the stars that decorate the night sky. The midnight breeze feels nice on his warm, flushed face.

"Sometimes I just don't know."

You reach forward and slip your finger underneath the bow that holds his cape together. The weight of the cape tends to pull the bow back, and it ends up pulling on the base of his neck. It looks uncomfortable, so you gently ease it forward, and reach out to pull the cape further forward across his shoulders, trying to alleviate the pressure.

You speak to him as you fiddle with his clothes.

"Sometimes, I think that all a person needs is to speak, openly and honestly, about the things that are weighing them down. Like we're doing here, right now. There's power in language. I know you know that. I believe that part of that power is in the relief we feel when we share our burdens with someone who cares about us."

Shifting his attention away from the heavens and back down to you, he feels warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He watches the way your lips move as you speak.

"I care about you, Venti. An awful lot... and I am always, always willing to listen to you. No matter what it is, good or bad, a song or a story, I want to hear it."

The way his focus flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips is not lost on you. You lean a bit closer to him, and reach out to cup his cheek, still warm from crying.

You lower your voice to a whisper.

"Please, promise me you won't keep carrying all of these feelings by yourself. Someone as light as you should never be weighed down by the negativity of others, nor by the hate in the world."

He breathes in deep, and nods once.

"I'll try... to let you help more. To let you in. I promise you."

Your hands stop toying with the soft ends of his braids, and one moves to gently cradle the back of his neck. He leans into you on instinct.

His eyes fall closed as you pull him towards you, closing the remaining gap between the two of you.

You lean up and place a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I won't let your burdens drag you under, Barbatos."

You move down and place another, feather light, on the tip of his nose. He smiles.

"I will not let them."

Your lips finally meet his, and you feel him fully relax in your hold.

When you break the kiss, neither of you pull back, instead leaning your foreheads against one another and breathing softly.

Chocolate and wine pair quite well together, you think.

[andthevillainshallrises]

The missing hunter pt.2

Winchesters x reader // dean x reader

summary: see the first part here

note: first of all i'm sorry for taking this long to post the rest of the story :( but here it is and hopefully it'll be good enough that you will want a third part ;) if you have some ideas about how the plot could evolve please let me know! it'll be fun to talk about it together. if you wish to be added to the tag list don't hesitate to tell me so. if you have any remarks, comments, anything that could help me with my english and the plot of the fic itself you can leave a comment or send me a message^^ and if you have any requests (tell me which fandom it'd be about so i can tell you if i have enough knowledge about it) maybe i can scribble something for ya ;)) just tell me in an ask or just a dm.

words count: 2k

…………

After cleaning her arms and hands as well as her face, y/n changed her clothes and packed her bags. When she opened the bathroom’s door Sam and Dean were sitting on the single bed in the small motel room. The rain had started again and the occasional lightning was casting shadows across the room, the dim glow of the bedside lamp giving the crimson walls a gloomy look.

She dropped her bags on the floor and the sound brought the brothers out of their slumber. They were half asleep, the exhaustion marking their faces, making their under eyes darker. 

For y/n the last few days had passed as if in a trance, she remembered some details but the rest remained hidden by a thick fog of fatigue. Or maybe her own brain was trying to protect her from the eventual trauma.

All the energy had disappeared from her body, and the simple fact of standing there instead of collapsing on the bed and letting herself go into a long deep sleep was like torture. Her body protested with every movement but she kept her composure and forced herself to stay awake. Forced herself not to seem weak.

Before the boys allowed her to take care of her wounds and get changed, they forced her to call Bobby. And after confirmation it was her that the man was looking for– and a great amount of swearing and angry lecture about being irresponsible, she had finally been allowed some privacy.

But now the boys had to drive her to Bobby’s. For what reason, she didn’t know, but she was sure it wouldn’t be to share some pizza and a hug. She’d be getting the runaround about her behavior, her irresponsibility, and how worried Bobby had been while she was doing God knows what.

Before hitting the road, Sam had suggested they stop at a dinner. Y/n suspected this suggestion has something to do with the loud noise her stomach had made moments before, but since she was starving she didn’t decline the offer.

In spite of the night already well advanced, the trio found a dinner open a little before the limits of the town. The rain was pounding hard against the roof of the Impala and they had to rush for cover inside the establishment once the engine was shut off. They sat down at a booth by the window and were soon served with coffee and waffles.

The place was practically deserted, only a few customers were scattered in the small room. The sound of thunder echoed fiercely in the humid atmosphere and lightning illuminated the treetops of the forest that bordered the road.

The establishment was quiet, the customers were either half-asleep or watching the news on the small tv placed on a little shelf atop the bar. Only the soft sounds of the coffee machine buzzing and the tv in the background were filling the place. Y/n forgot about the world around her when a full plate was served, and her cup was filled to the brim with coffee. She didn’t even wait for the boys to start and attacked the pile of waffles, syrup dripping from her fork.

She barely paid attention to Sam who was clearing his throat in the hope of catching her attention off her feast. Dean threw him a look half annoyed half tired, with one eyebrow raised. He seemed really annoyed to be here, to have to babysit someone.

No doubt tired of this little game, he suddenly pulled y/n’s plate toward him just as she was about to bite another waffle. “Hey!” She protested before swallowing her previous bite, and she froze when her gaze landed on Dean’s serious face. He looked like someone you don’t want to mess with. If she hadn’t been so tired she surely would have battled for the plate, but her forces were so few she could barely hold on her fork.

Glancing at Sam she noticed he was staring at her too. Clenching her jaws slightly, she tried again to pick up the waffle with her fork but Dean pulled the plate further, “So,” he started. “You gonna tell us what happened?”

Knowing full well she couldn’t finish her meal or get back on the road without giving some explanations first, she obliged. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Dean’s tone was dry and y/n’s heart clenched as she realized once again that he most certainly did not remember her at all. Leaning back in his seat, one hand still on the plate, Dean waited, his eyes fixed on the girl in front of him as if he was afraid she would disappear into thin air the very moment he would glance away or even blink.

Sliding her gaze on the table, y/n’s mind was assailed by flashes of the last few days and the rather dark events that had followed. She couldn’t possibly admit she didn’t remember everything that had happened. No, that wasn’t an option, she was going to have to come up with a story to cover her ass. And a one that wasn’t too alarming if possible, so they would leave her alone and stop lecturing her and looking at her like she was some irresponsible teenage girl.

Sam frowned, “Just start with the beginning, y/n.”

***

then… 

A mournful howl echoed in the darkness of the night. The moon played hide-and-seek with the heavy clouds and made the forest dark, the shadows merging into shapeless, sinister masses.

Y/n had been on the trail of a creature for several days, and felt that she was getting closer to her target. She had stalked the thing for days and spied on it day and night. She now knew her way to the creature’s hiding spot and had planned to take care of it the next day.

Y/n had learned to walk with as little noise as possible, even on a carpet of branches and dead leaves she was as quiet as a squirrel. Moving from bush to bush, she saw an owl perched on a branch nearby, watching her with its yellow eyes. It seemed to say this is a bad idea…

The farm was in a sorry state when seen from afar, but up close it was worse. The roof and some of the stoned walls were half collapsed, wild grass had grown everywhere and rust was crumbling the beams. She didn’t know exactly where the creature had established its quarters specifically, but the rooms were few so it wouldn’t be difficult. That’s what she thought until everything went south…

***

Sam’s voice drew y/n out of her thoughts, “Hey, it’s alright.” Y/n blinked and came back to reality. Preferring to avoid the brothers’ gaze– which she knew was for one worried and for the other severe, she turned her head to the window and watched the night sky.

Just like that horrible night, the sky was dark which made some stars visible, while the clouds were playing with the moon. The atmosphere was peaceful but there was something about the stillness of the scenery that made y/n uncomfortable. This whole situation was making her uncomfortable and she wished Bobby had never sent the boys after her.

After all, she had succeeded and escaped the place, and had, on top of everything, killed the creature.

Y/n took a deep breath, “I’ve been following the trail of a vampire for a few days.” She took a sip of her coffee, which thank God, Dean hadn’t pushed away from her as well, and studied them. Their expressions hadn’t changed a bit. Exasperated she continued on, “i had followed the creature to its hideaway, watched the place for several days. I was sure it was there and I was going to finish the job, and–” Dean cut her mid sentence, “You got caught.” His tone was as cold as ice and like subdued thunder.

She didn’t have to finish her story for Dean had already guessed what had happened. And he wasn’t happy about it. “And then what? How’d you even get out on your own?”

“I didn’t.” Y/n looked down at her fork and coffee mug, “there was someone else, and we helped each other.” The words seemed to die in her throat so she stopped talking and drank some more coffee, as slowly as she could to give herself time to think about the way she'll continue. No one said a word, not even Dean whose patience had certainly disappeared long ago.

After y/n had finished talking, there was a strange silence between the three. The dinner was almost empty, the few remaining clients had already left, hitting the road again, and the waiter was already cleaning off the counter and the tables.

And suddenly Dean broke the silence and it felt like he had smashed a glass on the floor. “That was such a stupid idea, you know that?” Y/n had nothing to answer. She was tired and angry at everybody for telling her what she should do, or how she should do it, or why she couldn’t. Clenching and unclenching her fists under the table, she remained silent and just waited for the lecture and critics the brothers would throw at her. Surely Bobby would do the same, with more anger and disappointment.

Maybe it would piss her off even further and she will leave without a word, just like she did when she first left Bobby's place a few weeks ago. Technically she had left without telling him because he wasn’t there at the time, and she couldn’t reach him on the phone. So she just left because she had picked up something odd happening in the next state, and somehow her intuitons were right. She had found a case, investigated it and took care of it just like she’s been taught.

Back in the car, Dean at the wheel, the conflicting emotions were swirling in y/n’s head. She had opened her window slightly to feel the coldness of the night, hoping it would numb her overthinking brain, and a few drops of rain came crashing on her cheeks mimicking tears.

They drove for hours before finally arriving at Bobby's, and all y/n had been able to do was staring at the passing landscapes, unable to find sleep. Now she was even more tired than when the boys had found her at the motel and yet, she had to endure another lecture from Bobby, because surely he wouldn’t let this one slip.

She hadn’t taken one step outside of the car that Bobby was already up her ass, telling her all the different ways she could’ve been hurt or killed, all the things that could’ve gone wrong. And he didn’t even know how bad things went.

Bobby's place could be described as some kind of junkyard for cars and other things the man had accumulated over the years. But for y/n it felt kind of like home– maybe because it was all she knew and it was the closest thing to a home she ever had.

Once inside, everybody dropped their bags and Dean immediately went to the kitchen and fetched a beer from the refrigerator, drinking it in big gulps as if it was water and he was as dry as a desert from the inside. Sam still wore a frown like a crown embedded in his skull. And Boby was pacing the room from one wall to another, sometimes he’d stop and stare at his boots.

It smelled of that peculiar scent a room full of dusty piles of books would smell. Papers covered in old languages and symbols were scattered across the desk, an empty bottle on the edge of falling on the old wooden floor. Everything felt like Boby. Every detail, every inch of the place was impregnated with Boby and his lifestyle more than unusual.

On the mantle of the fireplace behind the desk were disposed old frames with dusty yellowed photographs. Each one represented Boby and someone, a few showed a young Bobby with different cars. Y/n’s gaze rested on a set of pictures at one end of the mantle. One of them was a photo of John with his boys when they were still young and he had the habit of taking them on the road. The brothers seemed quite happy in the photograph, the trio was smiling like someone had cracked the best joke ever. Boby wasn’t by their side, he must’ve been the one holding the camera.

Another photo represented the brothers again, just a few years younger than now, both of them posing beside the sleek black Impala. The smile was still there, but it was a smile saddened by too many things. John wasn’t by their side.

Without realizing it, y/n was looking for a picture in particular. A picture taken many years ago. She remembered the day the picture was taken as vividly as if it had happened a minute ago. She was at Bobby's for a year or two and she used to hang out with Dean and Sam when their father would stop by. They used to be close friends, calling each other when John locked his boys in a motel room for days.

At the beginning y/n mostly get along with Sam since she was younger than the brothers and the boy clearly needed friends. Dean was grumpy all the time even when he was young, but he'll always take care of his brother, and that's something y/n would never forget. Dean's commitment to the people he loved was inspiring.

Bobby had stopped pacing angrily and now stood by the window. When he turned, he faced y/n’s back, and knew what she was staring at. The brothers were always on the road and when they would stop at Bobby’s they would be too occupied with their research to even pay attention to their surroundings. Bobby was the only one glancing at the pictures every now and then, mostly when he felt lonely and sad about the past.

…………

tag list: @katsotherworld @vantae-tea @leigh70 @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds

[with-love-from-hell]

hey I had a really shitty holiday and I was wondering if I could get a fic with Lucifer standing up for mc during the holidays. like maybe he knew only a little bit about how family treated them but is now fully aware of how fucking awful they are and is furious. I really liked the eating disorder fics you did, so if you can incorporate some body shaming or something, I'd appreciate it. I just want Lucifer standing up to shitty family for some comfort. <3

Hello Anon!

I am sorry that this is late- I know you sent it around Thanksgiving, so I hope you're doing okay! I have shitty family myself so I know how batshit the holiday season can be with being forced to be around family. I enjoyed writing this one- so I hope you enjoy it too!

I also saw your follow up ask- requesting this for a F!Mc instead of GN like you had originally intended, requests to include some toxic Christian undertones, and stating the Mc be a middle sibling with two sisters- and so it has been done!  

Won't Back Down

Genre: one-shot, heavy hurt/comfort

MC characteristics: F!Mc, age is in between 24-25 

Pairing: Lucifer x Mc

WC: approx. 4.2k

Cw: emotional/verbal abuse, strained family relationships, body shaming/insults toward appearance, fatphobia, swearing, religious trauma, mentions of Christian holidays, anxiety, depression, restricting diet, implications of sex, implied hx of physical abuse, threats, mild physical altercation, use of a derogatory term toward ethnicity, use of abelist terminology, use of misogynistic terminology

Note: Though I do have a masters degree in Psychology and clinical training in treating survivors of abuse, I am not your therapist, nor is this fic intended to take the place of professional help. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, please seek support from a professional. Utilize the Victim Connect Resource Center to get connected to the appropriate helpline.

Fuck.

You were late. so very late.

You hurried up to the stoop with Lucifer in tow, careful not to slip on the thick ice that had yet to be salted on your parent’s driveway. You only realized once you had gotten through the portal that Barbatos had opened that there was an hour lag between the time in Devildom and the time in the human world where your parents resided, and you knew that being late was something they took very seriously. The holidays were already stressful enough with your family’s snide comments, insults, and critiques of your life choices- but now you had to throw arriving well passed the established time for dinner. 

Well, at least this time you had Lucifer. Perhaps he would provide you some distraction from the terrible night that was sure to follow. 

You barely grazed the door with your knuckles before it flung open. There stood your father. A very annoyed look was present on his features as his eyes bore holes into your head. You flushed, looking down- knowing you needed to apologize before he would spiral into another one of his lectures. 

“Sorry we’re late, Dad. We got caught up-”

“Just get your ass in here. You’re wasting the heat.” He snapped, not even letting you explain yourself. You clutched the tin of sweets you had brought for dessert tighter to your chest as his booming voice hit your ears. You lowered your head and rushed past him, not wanting to make him more upset. 

Lucifer met his stare. Your dad looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. He cocked his head to the side in response before shaking his hand. The moment went on for a bit longer than was comfortable before he broke the connection and followed you into the house. 

Since you had been dating, you had told Lucifer snippets of how life was for you in the human world. He knew your parents were not the most saintly individuals, despite their obsession with church. You would avoid talking to them as much as possible, and he had overheard some of your phone calls with them where they would make petty remarks, but other than that you had kept him in the dark. He had never met your family before, so you knew that a good first impression was important. You reiterated it to him multiple times to suck down his pride and be quiet and respectful, which he was willing do do for you...

But after the initial meeting, he had a bad feeling about how the night was going to go. 

“It’s about time you got here!” Your mom shouted from the dining room as Lucifer helped you out of your jacket and scarf. “I nearly had to remake dinner.” 

You kicked off your boots and set them on the drip tray near the door before rushing to the dining room. “I’m so sorry, Mom.” 

She gave an elongated sigh, raising from her chair and moving to give you a cold hug. She noticed Lucifer enter the room and she (along with your two siblings) audibly gasped.

“You...you’re Lu?” She was awestruck, seemingly expecting you to bring home a hermit who hadn’t showered in 8 months and had only been living on squirrels out in the woods. 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and nodded, bowing to her gently as a greeting. He had forgotten you had told them his name was Lu, given the fact that they all were very Christian and would abhor the idea of you dating a man named Lucifer- let alone the actual demon himself. 

“Well, frankly I’m shocked.” Your mom chortled as she crossed her arms. She looked him up and down, taking in his sophisticated stature, impeccably formal attire, and enchanting features. “I wouldn’t expect a man so handsome to go for someone so ordinary like you, Mc.” 

Lucifer was completely taken aback by her brazen insult and shot you a glance. You gave a fake laugh, trying to hide your hurt at her words. His heart sank at the sight. He knew how sensitive you were about your appearance and how insecure you often were in your relationship with him. 

Well...at least now he knew why. 

“Are ya just going to stand there all night, or are we finally going to eat?!” Your older sister snarled, glaring at you intently. 

“S-sorry.” you sputter as you take your seat across from your sisters on the long end of the table, Lucifer taking the seat next to you. 

“So. What kept you, dear?” Your mother asked. However, she was seemingly uninterested as she gawked at Lucifer. Clearly she was more interested in undressing him with her eyes than whatever you had to say. 

“Oh...um-” you stuttered, trying to think of reasoning that didn’t involve portals from other dimensions. “We got caught up in traffic- we figured the roads would be clear enough, but I a lot of other people thought the same thing!” 

You let out a small laugh, though no one at the table seemed to find it very amusing. Actually...it didn’t really seem like anyone heard what you said as dishes were passed around the table. You felt your face flush at the realization that everyone but Lucifer had been completely ignoring you. 

Lucifer watched as everyone took heaping plates of the turkey, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and green-bean casserole...well, everyone except you. he noticed immediately how barren your plate looked. You had taken a small slice of white meat, what looked to be a tablespoon of stuffing and casserole, and a few scoops of sweet potatoes. He was very concerned- you had barely eaten over the past few days due to how anxious you were about the event...there was no way you weren’t starving, so why weren’t you eating more? 

“Darling,” he cooed to you quietly, watching you ladle out a teeny portion of cranberries. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” 

Before you could even respond, a snort from your younger sister was heard across the table. “As if she needs any more. Just look at her stomach. ” 

Lucifer's nose twitched in annoyance at the comment, and he felt anger begin to bubble up in his chest. “Pardon?” 

You gripped Lucifer’s leg under the table tightly, signaling to him to watch his tongue. He gave you a pitiful glance, before sighing and turning his attention back to his own plate. 

“Alright, now let us say grace.” Your father lead a prayer amongst your other family members while you and Lucifer bowed your heads, though declining to participate for obvious reasons. He shot glares in your direction every so often, and you felt his dark eyes judging you for refusing to say the prayer. He knew you were no longer religious, and it infuriated him. 

As they finished, your siblings immediately dug into the food. You slowly picked at your turkey, a depressed look present on your features...the likes of which Lucifer had never seen. He watched you play with your food while everyone else happily ate- his heart aching for what you have had to deal with for what he had assumed to be your whole life. 

“So, Lu.” Your dad grumbled through bites of casserole. “What is it that you do, exactly?” 

Without missing a beat, Lucifer retorted with the lines he had rehearsed with you for hours on end in preparation for meeting your family. “I’m an assistant administrator at the University Mc attends. I see to it that the professors have the materials needed to teach properly and students have what they need to be successful in their studies.” 

Your younger sister laughed. “How old are you? It’s a little weird that you’d be dating someone who goes to the school you work at.” 

Lucifer smiled, causing your mom to raise her eyebrows in amusement. “I’m only an assistant. It’s not like I’m a professor or the dean of admissions.” 

“Yeah but how old are ya?” Your older sister spat the food she was chewing on as she spoke with her mouth full. Lucifer’s eyebrow to twitch in disgust at the clear lack of manners present within your family. 

“I’m 29- only a few years older than her.” He nodded toward you, stealthy requesting silent validation that he was hitting all the marks. you gave him a gentle smile, confirming he was doing well. 

Your sisters  snickered and shared a knowing look. Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Is something humorous about that?” 

“Its just a bit funny that the only man she’s ever dated has to be so much older than her.” Your mother giggled. “I mean, it’s really no surprise. She’s never been a head-turner, so older men have always been more interested in her rather than men her own age.” 

You felt your face drain of color and you sank down in your chair. “Mom...” 

“Oh come off it now,” She rolled her eyes at you and pointed her fork in your direction. “It’s taken you this long to finally bring home a man- the least you can do is be grateful someone is paying attention to you. You’ve never shied away from the attention before.” 

Lucifer felt his blood begin to boil. He dropped his gaze to his food and swallowed hard, trying his best to push down the anger he was feeling at how your parents were treating you. He stole glances at your still sorrowful face, wishing desperately you would allow him to give your relatives a piece of his mind. 

“How’d you even end up together anyways?” your younger sister side-eyed you across the table, as if not truly believing that you could actually be dating Lucifer. 

“Oh- uh-.” You stuttered, not expecting the question, your mind blanking on the rehearsed statements due to the anxiety that was now building in your chest. 

“We met at the local pub.” Lucifer stepped in, sneaking you a knowing smile. “Our drink orders got mixed up and we got stuck waiting for the busy bartenders to re-make them. We got to talking, and figured out we had a lot in common.” 

“Really, now?” Your father leaned back in his chair, eyeing Lucifer suspiciously. “Tell me Lu, what are your intentions with my daughter?” 

You let out a groan. “Dad, please-” 

“Shut it, Mc. I want to know if this guy plans on marrying you or just wants to stick his...thing...in your...hoo-ha.” 

Lucifer’s eyes widened in shock at his statement...but did find humor in the fact that while your father had the audacity to bring up your sex life at the dinner table, he was still so immature that he couldn’t use the proper terminology to denote sex organs. 

you gasped. “DAD!” 

“What?!” He snapped. “It’s not like you’ve brought anyone home before! Am I supposed to just trust the first man you bring home? Clearly he must be after something if he’s willing to put up with you- Just look at what you’re wearing!”

Your dad motioned to your shimmery red dress- the one Lucifer had bought you for your most recent birthday. You felt hurt by his insinuation that it was somehow bad taste and began to feel hyperaware of how the dress hugged your curves. “W-what about it?” 

Your mother scoffed. “Well first of all, it’s barely leaving anything to the imagination.” 

Your younger sister cackled and nodded, pointing at your chest. “Your boobs are practically popping out of it!” 

Your eyes widen and you immediately cover your chest with your arms. A beat red blush painted your face, and you found yourself wishing that you could just sink into the ground and cease to exist. 

“Second,” Your mom continued, flapping her fork about as she talked with her hands. “Red really isn’t your color, dear. It’s just not flattering. Also, it really should be longer to cover those big legs of yours.” 

Your father nodded in agreement. “You’re out here looking like a damn prostitute.” 

Lucifer shot him a glare, feeling his anger fester more. “For the record, I’m choosing to date Mc because I love her- not because of what she looks like or how she dresses.” 

Your father rolled his eyes, ignoring Lucifer’s statement. He turned his attention back toward you. “Just don’t come crawling back to us when Mr. smooth talker takes what he wants and moves onto someone better.” 

You felt tears sting the back of your eyes. You began quietly eating your food to prevent yourself from crying. Lucifer squeezed your leg under the table, trying to get your attention, but you refused to look up.  He felt so much contempt for how your family was making you feel- and he felt the hurt burn in his own chest as he watched you try to maintain composure.

The rest of the meal consisted of your sisters and mother trying to engage in small-talk with Lucifer, all the while completely ignoring you. Your father added an occasional quip, and grunted in response to the things being said. You only nodded and gave soft “mhmm”‘s in response to things, otherwise eating the remainder of your food in silence. 

After dinner, you and your mother cleaned up the table while your father and Lucifer sat in the living room. Your father had turned on a football game, and was completely ignoring him- which honestly didn’t bother him too much. Your sisters moved on to their own activities- the older one leaving to visit her own boyfriend and your younger one video chatting with her friends in her room. 

As you washed the dishes with your mom, you stole glances back at the living room. You were anxious about how Lucifer was doing alone with your dad. You barely heard your mother’s voice until she was snapping her fingers in front of your face to get your attention. 

“Hello, earth to Mc!” she spoke loudly, in an annoyed tone. 

“Oh...what? Sorry.” you shook your head and turned your complete focus to her. “What did you say?” 

She sighed, giving you the final dish to rinse before draining the soapy basin. “I said, what did you bring for dessert? You remembered for once, right?”

“Oh! Yes I did!” you rinsed the dish quickly and dried your hands, gathering the tin of sweets you had brought with you from devildom. Barbatos had showed you how to make traditional sugar plums, and the first batch had turned out great. You were excited to share them with your family. 

Your mom smirked. “Finally you’ve done something right.” 

Lucifer’s attention perked up at the comment, turning to see your back toward him in the kitchen with your shoulders slumped.

Your dad let out a sinister chuckle. “Now honey, lets not count our blessings before tasting whatever concoction  she made. Remember last year when she gave us those terrible cookies?” 

Both your parents shared a deep laugh while your face flushed red.

“T-they were just Linzer cookies.” your voice was sheepish as you clutched the tin tighter. “I learned how to make them from one of the exchange students.” 

Your dad scoffed. “Either that foreigner couldn’t taste a damn thing or you made them wrong, because those were disgusting.” 

Lucifer could not believe his ears. You had made him and his brothers Linzer cookies numerous times, and they turned out absolutely perfect every single time. It appeared that this was a matter of taste- which your parents clearly didn’t seem to have...He could tell that from the bland meal they served. He snickered to himself, wishing he could just say the words to their face, but he knew how important this event was to you...so he held his tongue- albeit barely.  

You brought the tin to the living room and opened up the top nervously, now second guessing your choice. Both of your parents scrunched up their faces in apparent disgust at the small brownish-purple balls that littered the inside of the container. 

Lucifer immediately took three and savored each one, relishing in the tangy flavor that turned sweet as he chewed them. Barbatos had clearly taught you well, and he was proud you were continuing to learn how to cook various types of cuisines with such grace and skill. However, your mothers disgusted squeal made the pleasant taste of the sweets grow sour. 

“Blech!” She spat the plum into the waste bin near the entry way. “What the hell is that? It tastes like potpourri!” 

Your dad grimaced as he too spat the plum out into a napkin. “I’m not sure how you managed to ruin desert, Mc. But you did.” 

Your face burns bright red as embarrassment wash over you. “I-I’m sorry...” 

“Tch. Sorry?” Your father snapped, glaring at you hard. “Your job was to bring a desert- not a pile of shit. Why do you make everything so complicated? All you had to do was bring store brought brownies or somethin.’ But maybe it was my fault for not dumbing the concept down enough for you.” 

You felt tears prick the back of your eyes. “I...I...” 

Your father balled his fists and made a fake crying motion, mocking you. “ ‘I...I...’ - speak properly, will ya? You’re a damn adult. Stop acting like a spoiled rotten child.” 

Your mother nodded in agreement and threw her hands up in exasperation. “You always bring out those crocodile tears. Every year its the same thing! Why do you always have to play the victim?!” 

Lucifer watched your face contort as you tried to hold back your sobs. He felt his heart break as you tried and failed to keep you character. He was getting quite sick of sitting by and watching them abuse you- and the final words from your father sent him completely over the edge: 

"If you weren’t such a pathetic mess, then maybe we could actually have a good time at our gatherings.” He scoffed, sending Lucifer into a blinding fury.

“That’s quite enough.” Lucifer roared. He quickly moved in between you and your parents, towering over them as he shielded you with his arm. “I have absolutely had it with your constant berating towards Mc.” 

Your dad got up, scowling up at the demon who had many inches on his height. “Excuse me?” 

“You fucking heard me.” Lucifer snarled. “You’re a lowsey excuse for a man, and a piss poor parent. I hope to never bear witness to the pits of hell you will find yourself snuggly buried in after all you’ve done to her, because you surly aren’t making it up to those pearly gates- not if I have anything to say about it.” 

“How dare you use such curses in my house.” Your dad snapped, stepping closer to Lucifer.

“I will speak to you however I damn well please, you repulsive cretin.” He hissed. “After all, you seemed to have been just fine talking down to your own flesh and blood. Maybe it’s about time you got little a taste of your own medicine.”

“Lu--” you tried to squeeze his arm, indicating that you wanted him to stand down. 

“No!” Lucifer snapped. He usually wouldn’t take such a terse tone with you, but he wanted you to know he was hurt by how they treated you- the light of his life. He turned his head toward you, shooting you a firm, empathetic glance. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this!” 

Your mother moved to pull your dad back from Lucifer, but he shook her off. Lucifer took a step back, pulling you closer to him. He felt your body tense as your dad postured toward him, rolling up his sleeves as he moved. He began wondering what he had done to you in your past to make your body respond in such a way, and his wrath only festered at what his imagination produced. 

“You think you’re so tough, huh?” He grumbled. “I knew Mc wouldn’t date a respectable god-fearing man. Maybe I should teach you a lesson in being polite!” 

Lucifer let out a loud cackle at your dad’s attempt to exhibit power over him. How truly pathetic. 

“Something funny? Huh!?” Your dad screamed, attempting to push Lucifer backwards.

Lucifer’s voice then took on a deep growl, his eyes flashing red with wrath as he stared your dad down. “I surrender to no man, nor god. The only individual I answer to is Mc.” He leaned his head down so he was mere inches away from your father’s face. “Without her commands, I know no mercy- so I suggest you watch who you threaten.” 

Your father scrunched his face in confusion- not quite understanding what he meant. Your mom tried to intervene, seeing a pause in the escalation. 

“Now now, boys. That’s enough.” She stood in between Lucifer and your father, pushing them apart. She attempted to let out a light hearted chuckle to calm the tension, but it only made Lucifer’s rage fester. “Really now, Mc is not so special she deserves a fight to break out over her own silly emotions.” 

Lucifer now turned his attention to your mother, his voice still maintaining a low growl that shook with rage. "Seriously? Seriously? Tch. What sort of vile shrew speaks of her own daughter in such a way!?” 

At his insult, your mother’s jaw dropped. “W-what?!” 

Lucifer continued his tirade despite your clawing at his shirt, begging him to stop. “You have done nothing but insult her appearance and desirability ever since I set foot in here. Mc is the most breathtaking individual I have ever laid eyes upon- and the audacity you have to make her think she holds no beauty is astounding. Have you ever stopped to think that perhaps you’re projecting your own insecurities onto her? Or is it that you enjoy tearing her down? I suppose I wouldn’t expect someone with a skull as thick as yours to truly comprehend the grace she has.” 

She sputtered, trying to think of a retort as Lucifer continued to insult her. 

“Any good mother would completely pummel anyone who dared speak to their child in the way you do to her. And the fact that you let your own children do the same? It’s absolutely despicable.” Lucifer huffed, thinking of how much their words had hurt you over the years. “A bitter old cunt such as yourself should be begging to be in her life, because pretty soon you’ll end up alone, with no one by your side but a burnt-out nurse who does nothing for you but wipe and feed you.” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but your mother’s jaw dropped further- nearly hitting the floor. You found a smile make its way on your face at her reaction and you ceased your clawing at Lucifer’s shirt. You felt your heart flutter at how ruthless he was in standing up for you.

“How dare you speak to my wife like that!” Your dad now pushed your mother completely out of the way and was standing toe-to-toe with Lucifer, pointing a boney, calloused finger in his face. “Who the hell do you think you are?!” 

With that, Lucifer had finally reached his limit with how much of your family he was willing to tolerate. He smiled widely, bearing his sharp fangs. You father gasped and jolted backwards, colliding with your mother and sending them both toppling to the floor. As they scrambled to their feet, he released his full demon form- wings spread wide to prevent their escape. The terrified scream from your mother sent a chill down your spine, but strangely... you didn’t feel shameful anymore. 

Now you felt angry.  

You watched for a moment as your parents sat frozen in fear at the exposure of Lucifer's demon form. After you got your fill of their fear, you pressed your fingers to the small of Lucifer’s back, whispering a command to him. 

“Let me pass.” 

Both your pact marks began to glow in the low light of the living room that was further dimmed by his enveloping presence. Both your parent’s eyes grew wide at the site of Lucifer- the archangel- in all his radiant fury, with you commanding him like an attack dog on a leash. He dropped his wings slightly so you could walk in front of him to face your parents. He wrapped his arm delicately around your waist, and stood tall behind you- almost as if he was daring either parent to insult you or try to harm you now that they knew what he was. 

Your mind raced with all of the things you could never say to them, but now finally had the opportunity to. You stared them down, wondering what you could do to hurt them- hurt them like they had hurt you. The reins were finally in your hands, and you were completely dumbfounded by what to do.

“Mom...Dad...” You stated, sucking in a deep breath as they looked between you and Lucifer with eyes full of fear. “I’m leaving. And I’m not coming back.” 

They stared at you, questioningly. 

You continued. “Lucifer is right. I don’t deserve this.” 

The color drained from your dads face as he once again met Lucifer’s icy stare. “L-Lucifer?!” 

"Yeah. Lucifer.” You gripped his hand in yours, entangling your fingers with his. A warm smile found its way onto your lips as you glanced at him. “Isn’t it funny how a literal demon could show me more love than you two ever did?”

Your parents gaped at you, shocked into silence at the unholiness you now embodied by submitting yourself to the love of an agent of Hell.

“Well,” your smile faded, noticing their agonizing silence. “It would be funny if it weren’t so utterly depressing.” 

You dropped your gaze for a moment. tears coming back to your eyes. Lucifer squeezed your hand to reassure you that he was here, and that he wasn't going to leave your side. “All I wanted was for you guys to act like you gave a shit about me. But I guess that’s asking to much of you. So I am going back to the place where I have people- or well, Demons- who love and cherish me without a single gripe, and are waiting for me to come back with open arms. They’re my family now... My real family.” 

Your parents stared at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. They couldn’t even really process what you said before you turned to Lucifer, who was beaming at you with pride. 

“Lets go home.” You smiled, earning from him a delicate kiss to your forehead before he ushered you to the door. You put on your coats and boots in a rush, excited to finally return to the other 6 Brothers who were impatiently awaiting your return at the House of Lamentation.

By the time your parents finally processed what you had said, you and Lucifer were half-way down the street. His demon form had receded when you entered the brisk night air, so as not to disturb the neighbors. He held your hand firmly in his, swinging it gently as you walked. You could hear your parents yelling for you to come back as you returned to the place where your portal would be waiting to transport you and your lover back to Devildom...Back home. 

[persephoneyss]

Doomeds.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f! Reader. Ft. Bts.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish, suspense.

Summary: ❝We are doomeds, wandering in eternal suffering.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / stalking on cameras, humiliation, unspecified forced marriage, n*n-c*n explicit sexual relations (on the reader), abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use, kidnapping, hitting, manipulation, dating previous trauma, alcoholism and depression (in Yoongi), accusations of infidelity, dub-con (in Yoongi's case), the reader is in school but is of legal age, death threats, really strange facts. Possibly this would qualify as dark fantasy since everything is so unrealistic.

Number of words: 10,000+

︙Author's note: *sighs* This is the longest fic I've ever written, and I honestly don't know how it turned out because I didn't read it twice like I always do before publishing it. But my beautiful baby helped me correct, I hope you enjoy it and please read the warnings well, I do not want lawsuits. Thanks for being here!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

If they ever had to ask the reality of events it would be ... Unbelievable. Thinking of how just a simple action changes everything in an already established and perfect environment.

A life.

Your minutes, hours and days were the same under your criteria and eyesight, you study in the mornings, you work in the afternoons and you attend to your homework at night. It was a good routine that used to be repetitive at times, it was fun to follow, even more so in your part-time job.

You could meet many people working in one of the best cafes in the city, your classmate insisted too many times that you work with her saying that could recommend you and you should not even pass a test, they would only accept you for her.

It was a good opportunity and you accepted it with a smile, although she was long gone from work, you were still grateful for the good salary and health insurance that they gave you every month.

"An American coffee with a spoon of sugar and a green tea cake with cream on top." Your mouth and hand move in sync, the client nods silently. You smile, pointing out other details before asking what name you would give the order.

With a sigh, he name came out like a gust of light wind. "Min... Min Yoongi."

You write his name on the screen, the little receipt paper comes out of the machine. You hand it to him by brushing his hand with yours, strangely cold and pale. A chill runs through you but you ignore it, continuing with your work.

"Good Morning _____!" One of the employees greets you kindly, you correspond still concentrated on serving the mysterious stranger's coffee. "Do you have a request for me?"

"Oh, uh... Yeah, this is for table four."

Yun smiles taking the tray with Yoongi's coffee and cake, arriving at his table. The man's expression can be dazzled even under his black mask that covers half of his face, his eyes look for you before colliding with you. YYou refuse to play along, continuing with your work, you had a lot to do and wasting time flirting wouldn't really help you make money.

However, it became pointless trying to ignore him when he kept coming back day after day. Week after week. Tormenting your head, Yoongi was not the first nor the last handsome man you would see coming often, your work establishment was literally in a strategic area and not cheap, you knew that many men and women with money frequented them to drink a coffee or eat some delicacy, even sometimes they only came in to sit for a few hours attending to their affairs over the phone.

It was fine, it was comfortable. You weren't expecting too much, sitting behind a counter, always having to fake a smile despite being tired.

Perhaps it was the constant visits that led you to start a conversation with him. You had about an hour of rest, you prefer to spend those few moments sitting in front of the window of the premises eating any cake that was a few days before expiring to avoid paying for consumption, you felt comfortable in that place that seemed so far from all the other clients.

Until his voice interrupted once, he seemed as calm as ever. His gaze lost from you elsewhere avoiding making contact with you, nervous apparently. His rough and austere tone was changed to a bolder and lower one, asking if he could sit next to you for a few minutes.

"Sure, sit down... he's not busy." It was your answer without having any problem in sharing your place so secret, so comfortable. It was still just as safe even with him present.

And in much the same way, everything became a silent routine. You heeded his order, you took your rest next to him and then you both left at one point. The talks became more common, he being the first to ask about such insignificant things as the rise in the market in the country and how prices should start to rise in coffee as well.

You laughed, you really did it by getting his attention and sharing your reaction.

They both started laughing at how strange it all started, and it was always the perfect anecdote to tell their friends about how they met.

Everything was perfect, like a painting by a great artist, what you would see would be beautiful and cheerful colors, adorning both of you possibly holding hands with a smile and a loving expression from the man who was now your partner. Her pale skin and angelic face represented on beautiful thin paper, presented to the world as a painting that reflected a symbol of love between two souls met in a casual cafe and who wanted each other so much. Too much.

Yoongi was the clear representation of an ethereal person, casual and elegant, polite and kind, protective but not possessive. Simply to the target.

Your routine didn't change much after starting your relationship, you kept walking to your school in the mornings, you attended the cafeteria in the afternoons and you rested at night. Perhaps the only significant thing that you would get out of your boring schedule was your boyfriend's proposal about moving with him to the house of his best friend, almost a brother as he described it, and avoiding paying for your little apartment. You had made one and a thousand excuses, making Yoongi shut them all up.

"Jin is my brother, he would never take advantage of us. I already mentioned the proposal, about you... I have been living there for a few weeks, I assure you that you will be like family."

Family?

Your face relaxed for a few seconds, you had abandoned that feeling and sensation long ago since you moved from your home in your native country. Your mother used to call you every night but little by little that habit was lost, she also had her own problems and being aware of you as if you were a child was ridiculous.

"It's fine." It was your final decision, nervously you moved your hands in the air explaining what you would not accept.

Do not invade your privacy.

You had spent days thinking about how to introduce yourself to them, because apparently there would be more than just Jin, Yoongi and you in that house. Your things were scattered in boxes, you stood in the middle of the almost empty room still nervous about meeting new people and friends of your boyfriend.

That they were now family. Literally family.

The moving truck was parked in front of a large house, it had two stories and an incredibly large garden. More like a forest than an ordinary garden, you got out of the car trying to clean your clothes as much as possible and look presentable. Although it was difficult when your whole body was covered in dust after lifting the boxes.

"I'm not ready, Yoon." You say, containing your anxiety that vibrates to the surface of the skin within you.

Her hand gently brushed your cheek, giving you a bit of reassurance. "You look beautiful, they will accept you anyway." Her lips came up to yours, giving you a quick and soft kiss. "I just remember that I love you, and I know all my brothers will too because you are perfect."

You thanked the little compliment in a whisper, the door of the house opened just after the two of them left, you automatically showed a friendly smile approaching the first person to leave. He was a tall and rather handsome man, he seemed very well dressed to be indoors on a Sunday, more like he was going out to an important business meeting. He looked flawless and elegant.

"The suit was not necessary, Nam!" Shouted your boyfriend behind you mocking, the man laughed showing all the charm of him to your eyes.

"I'm Namjoon, Yoongi's friend. Nice to meet you... _____, right?"

"Yes, it's me. Sorry to see me so disastrous, it was a tiring day with the move."

Namjoon seemed like a very nice and incredibly understanding guy, his presence made you want to meet your boyfriend's other friends. You opened the door entering the house after Yoongi asked you to find your room to start carrying the other things, Namjoon stayed behind to help him, leaving you alone on your unknown route. You walk all over the place and you are surprised that you only walked through the living room, your eyes straying to a noise in the kitchen.

Curious.

You ignore it, continuing your way up, you read every name on the doors. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All written brilliantly on each different door, you walk a few steps to one that says your name and you thank it with a sigh.

You weren't surprised by how big it was, everything inside that place seemed to be exorbitant and out of the ordinary.

"Oh, it must be you." You are surprised to hear a voice behind you, you turn around in fear before remaining calm. You recognized her face from a photo Yoongi had on her phone.

"Jimin?" You ask with fear of being wrong.

"It's me, it's nice to finally meet you. Jin-hyung said you're moving in a few days, I didn't think it would be so soon." His voice seemed to be calm but there was a hidden question. Why? Why were you there?

You take a few uncomfortable steps back. "It really was, but ... I thought it would be better to do it today that I don't have classes, plus Yoongi doesn't work this day and it seemed like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if bother you."

"No you don't. it's okay, Welcome." With that one simple word he left.

You thought you would have a longer talk with him but you weren't expecting too much, they didn't even know each other and you plan to chat with him like they were old acquaintances. Well, naive.

It seemed strange to you that no one else showed up in the whole house, even when you were uploading the last boxes of the move no one seemed to be a little curious to meet you. Aside from the already friendly Namjoon and the reserved Jimin.

"Yoon" You get his attention, he smiles at you taking the sheets out of your suitcase and making your makeshift bed ready for the night. "Do your friends work today?"

"I guess so, they really don't spend a lot of time together or at home." Explain without noticing your downcast face. You nod, putting the issue aside and concentrating your eyes on arranging your clothes. "Hey... Okay, you can meet them all at dinner today."

Your chest clenches in anguish, "Dinner?!"

"Yes, darling. It's the only time they meet all day, when Jin-hyung cooks for us especially on days like these where we have pleasant surprises."

You purse your lips annoyed, Yoongi smiles kissing your forehead so carefully and lovingly that it melts your senses. The mere presence of him made you want to continue with him forever, you relax for a few seconds hugging his body in silence. They both stay like this, with nothing to say but telling each other everything at the same time.

The thought of ever letting go scares you.

You wait several hours, still sitting in the same place where Yoongi left you. You should be presentable for dinner, you take a quick shower before running to change into a nice comfortable dress, you try not to overdo it but also not show disinterest. From the stairs you hear everyone's mixed voices, chatting animatedly.

"Honey, come here." Yoongi watches you, being the only one to notice that you were peeking in the shadows still unsure of interrupting.

You say hello by walking a few steps until you reach your boyfriend's side, you present yourself the best you can. Everyone falls silent, Namjoon smiles at you just like he did before. Jin interrupts the moment where no one seemed to have anything to say about you, or if he wants to want to introduce himself.

"Today we have a special guest, the dear girlfriend of our brother. I introduce myself, I am Jin the official cook of this family." His body bends down with an exaggeratedly long bow, proud of his words. Jimin rolls his eyes, while his other siblings just choose to tease. "On Yoongi's orders we made her favorite dish, so I don't want any complaints of any kind about the food. I'm looking at you Jungkook."

You are surprised how well everything is going, you feel praised when your favorite food is in front of you. She looked just as elegant, as if you were eating in a five-star restaurant and at a luxurious table with silk tablecloths.

Jungkook still stayed away from the talks, preferring to eat quietly and fiddle with his phone. Hoseok was more animated, asking about you and exaggerating anecdotes that happened with his childhood friends. He moved you that he will still remember all that after years. Namjoon vaguely drew your attention with book recommendations when you commented on your love of reading, Jin quietly continued eating in complete tranquility, Jimin thanked the food and just left.

Taehyung... He seemed interesting to you, he was looking at you all the time with narrowed eyes and when Jimin got up and walked away, he followed closely with a small and almost hidden smile.

You had a strange feeling inside what they called home.

"I-I... I need to use the bathroom." You say goodbye by wiping your lips with a napkin before quickly walking behind them both. Something attracted you to want to know more, as if they were leaving clues knowing that curiosity killed the cat and that you wanted to be the one.

Your steps were quiet, even more so when you tried not to be noticed . You went upstairs listening to their voices whispering and then... An obscene moan was clearly heard, Jimin seemed to laugh in the air.

Your hands shook thinking of opening the door and seeing what was happening. And without knowing it, you had fallen into the same network of attraction as them.

You curse yourself biting your tongue and cheek until they bleed, sure that you were going to make a big and heavy mistake. Minutes later you are going down the stairs back to the table but no one is waiting for you anymore, the table was just as spotless and clean. You are pleasantly surprised to learn that they don't treat you like a guest and that they don't wait too long for you. Maybe they had things to do, however you feel a chill when silence comes.

Where were?

You look around the yard, but no one is outside. Neither in the kitchen and less in the room where you had already walked twice. You catch the sound of drums in your ears rumbling loudly, you close your eyes in a daze for a few seconds until in an instant it goes away, and then everything comes back to itself. You hear their voices upstairs, chatting animatedly for the second time.

"Where were you sweetie? Are you okay?"

You nod still confused. How did they... When was that... You were really fine? You refuse to fall into paranoia and lie down next to Yoongi, as they continue their conversation with each other. Your head keeps spinning with the fresh memories you have, but they seem to disappear second by second and it scares you, you open your eyes without wanting to fall asleep yet but it is as difficult as breathing.

You fall into the dark abyss of sleep, feeling the same chill.

Your gaze is lost in the gray sky, you are cold and your body is swaying. Your eyes move restlessly observing that you are under the snow and a person holds you in his arms through the forest, walking at a slow and safe pace.

It's fine. Are you okay.

Wake up. Yoongi greets you from the door of your now room, you try to regulate your breathing thinking that he would notice your overwhelmed state and he would worry, but no. He is as calm as ever, relaxed even.

"Good morning beautiful, it's time for breakfast. Jin-hyung made your favorite." And with that last sentence she is shifting away, closing the door behind he.

You go down the stairs ready to go, your backpack resting on your shoulder. The table is just as full as at dinner, Jimin seemed very tired trying not to fall asleep, you watch him for a few seconds before looking at Taehyung who ignores you taking his cup of ... Coffee. You approach making him recoil alarmed and disgusted, you check the cup realizing that it is the same recipe that you use in the cafeteria.

Like them?

You look up noticing that, you were uncomfortable, Taehyung takes a few steps away from your body almost leaning against his, still sitting in his chair. You apologize to him making me sigh irritated, still ashamed you apologize again without eating or serving anything, just leaving through the front door.

Your journey is reflective. You forget, dream and recognize, that was the pattern you were following, everything seemed so strange and deep down gloomy, you feel the already casual chill running through your entire body almost like a warning.

Your seat in class was empty waiting, ready for you. Ari greets you, being your table companion and friend.

"Hey, intense night?" She jokes, you look shaking his head. She laughs pointing your neck. "You have... something there."

She frowns even more confused, her face leaves her smile aside and she starts looking at her things until she takes out a small mirror and she hands it to you. You look with horror at a large red bruise painting on your skin, it seemed painful but you had not even noticed or felt it. You touch it still scared and nothing, it doesn't hurt or it seems real.

You take a deep breath before lying with silly chatter, "I had an accident, but I'm fine. I had forgotten I was there, it was nothing serious."

Ari seems worried but in the end she forgets it by returning to the same kind and joking attitude of her, but her gaze drops from second by second to your neck making you cover yourself uncomfortable. Who? It can't be Yoongi, he was always very calm in that regard. You think terrified, your hand goes up to touch it and this time you manage to feel a sharp pain.

You have to cover it with the collar of your shirt so that no customer will notice it and avoid staining the reputation of the cafeteria, you smile nervously taking orders as fast as you can and avoiding looks. Yun greets you like every day, arriving at his work time. You spend hours begging for the clock to advance faster, the night sky appears and the doors close, you clear the last counter before you can finally show your neck again and breathe.

"That's a big problem." Yun whispers looking at the horrible mark, you nod with a sigh giving the same stupid excuse you told Ari. "You should use a little makeup to cover it up, I think it will help you a lot."

You think about it for a few seconds before deciding what you would do. You bow to him with a bow after he offered to close in your place and finish the remaining work for you.

You come home with a smile, you greet Namjoon who is reclining on the couch in the living room watching something on TV. You wait a few seconds but you do not receive a small or accidental look, you approach a few steps to repeat it again but you only get him to get up and go upstairs closing the door of his room apparently with a door slam. What the hell? You think covering your face with your hands looking for some comfort.

Everything was happening inside you, it was like a whirlpool sweeping away your sanity. Were you going crazy? Or you were just thinking a lot about nothing.

You try to draw a picture of your situation, but the only thing that repeats is the constant painting of Yoongi and you together.

"Yoongi!" You say to yourself with a smile, you drop your backpack running towards his room, wanting to see him after such a day.

Your hopes fade like air, everything within the space him screams 'he', but he is not there. You check the safe time that he should be home at that moment. You hear Jin's voice screaming from below about dinner ready, you sigh losing your appetite at those moments.

You lie on your bed checking your cell phone in case there was a message from Yoongi warning about he delay but nothing. You feel empty for some strange reason, but there was nothing different about it now.

If I had been more attentive and conscientious, you would have noticed that two more people other than Yoongi and you were missing from the table. Jin smiles sitting in his same place leaving your plate not caring without you being there with them, his smile never fades even when all his brothers are sitting silently eating and looking at your empty place so intensely that it was terrifying, he squeezes the cutlery in his hand without wanting to break the tradition in his family.

Dinners are sacred and no one should be missing. There will be no discussions or complaints, that's what the rest of the time is for.

That was what her mother said, sitting at the table in her old home containing her anger at seeing her husband so calm after having been unfaithful once more. Not on the table, not on the table.

Not on the table, honey.

Jimin opened the last bottle with a little satisfaction, poured another glass before handing it to his friend who was only glaring at the ground.

"She's not like that... I know her." Repeating the same stupid prayer for hours, Taehyung rolled his eyes trying to calm his annoyance, looking at his other friend insisting that he help him.

"Yoongi-hyung you saw it yourself, she had that... That mark. you didn't do it, maybe Tae is right and she-..."

"Not!" I scream interrupting what to him were lies. "_____ she's my girlfriend, she's not like that. I know her ... she loves me! She loves me! Do you understand?" Says exalted, holding the shirt of his friend who closed his mouth immediately, Jimin noticed that same reflection of anger in him and knew it was better to leave it for now.

Taehyung pushed the drunk Yoongi away from his side, making him release him and repeat the same phrase as in his state, he tried to believe himself.

The door to your room was opened and the smell of alcohol invaded you, making you look disgusted. You closed your eyes without wanting to see him, his body fell to the side of your bed approaching your body so slowly that the anxiety inside you doubled.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

His hands rested around you, giving you that warmth so familiar and comfortable in your gray days. A sob was heard while you lost yourself in your own thought, you watch it melt into your arms crying and without wanting to tell you why.

"It hurts." It's the only thing it says. But... Why?

You wake up. Just like a week ago, days had passed and it seemed like your skin kept accumulating horrible marks all over the place. You even went to consult a doctor but he only insisted that something... Or someone did them with such fury that it was incredible that a piece of skin will not be torn off by the force of his suction.

You touched the last mark that came, it was dangerously close to your crotch, you try to hide the others with makeup but they were still visible at a short distance.

You went down the stairs to see them all again, you greet with regret taking the first thing you find. Your mug had your name written on it, it was a rather curious gift from Jin after your melancholic night with Yoongi days ago, he apologized explaining that he felt bad after hearing all the sobs and apologies. For a moment you thought it was something exaggerated but he kept insisting that he felt bad about himself, not with Yoongi who was almost his brother or with you, with him.

You accepted it without wanting to show your dislike for his selfishness and narcissism, thanking him so softly that he hardly heard you.

The special drink that morning was coffee... Americano. You felt insecure to drink it, and you just put it aside.

Same recipe.

Yoongi looked at you for a few seconds before smiling fondly, and you just looked away, leaving him with a confused face as you walk out the door so quickly that he can hardly feel you.

He sighed before being drawn to Jimin's grin-adorned face, he shrugged, hinting at his silent opinion. She is not faithful to you Yoongi, why do you keep waiting for something good? Only looks at her body, her attitude and who she surrounds herself with, it is a classic of womens. You will know that she is a fox hidden under her sheepsuit, just observing her more and you never leave her.

The marks on your body, your cold attitude made him more and more suspicious and fall for Taehyung's profound words. She bit his lip, refusing to spy on your life away from him... Out of his sight.

But he really wasn't doing anything wrong, just observing. In his now dirty head, everything was valid if he could know the truth.

You did the same thing you always told him on his nights where they stayed up talking about his heavy days. You went to school, to work, and then home. Nothing changed your version.

I try to focus on your friends, there was only one girl you spent more time with in your classes and after them. He researched everything about his life, but he had nothing to worry about after learning that he had a boyfriend. He passed your work, standing outside for hours waiting to see you do something dirty or guilty, but you never seemed to move.

You just served the orders and then kindly said goodbye to the customers. He felt guilty for doing something so low to you, until he saw you.

To you.

Your smile grew when one of the workers who was your partner approached your place in the box to whisper something in your ear, you left your place following him towards the warehouse.

Anger consumed him quickly, refusing to continue standing there observing the obvious, possibly he was being irrational and he knew it but the constant insinuations of Jimin. The conversations with Taehyung, his words, his suspicions, the pleased looks from they when he fell back at his feet asking them to tell him what to do with you.

With his damn relationship.

Where were you and him. Not them. You and he.

He opened the door to your room and started going through your things like a degenerate, something must have made him sure that you were cheating on him. Something, a letter, a note, a gift from him, or a simple cheap jewel.

This was your Yoongi? You were clearly looking at another subject.

"Yoon..." You started, his eyes coldly piercing you. He looked different, he was looking at you but you didn't feel safe being so close. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I do?" He asked how else he will not point to the obvious, for a moment you thought that even if it was, out of respect or dignity, he would try to deny it or find another explanation for his actions so offensive to you. "Where is?"

"Where is what?" You claim, starting to get angry, his eyes leave you again as he continues searching through your drawers, dropping everything to the floor with thudding noises. You get closer trying to push it away but you only get rejection. "Stop it, Yoongi."

"Not until you say so."

You freeze without knowing what he meant by the latter, you take his arm to stop him but you only receive a push that makes you back away this time scared by the force of his attack. "Enough!" You claim this time by making him look at you with his cold eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about and why you're doing this, but enough."

"Then say it..." You shout again that you don't know what he wants you to say, you even curse furiously making him come closer to support your shoulders with his hands bringing you closer to his face. "Say it damn it! Say you're cheating on me with that bastard son of a bitch!"

You feel the pain of his grip, you sob, begging him to release you but are ignored as he continues to ask you to say so. You refuse to lie, especially with something so degrading.

Jin hears the screams as he continues serving the dinner desserts, Jungkook strangely puts aside his phone for a few minutes to thank him with a small toast and a smile that was rarely seen on him.

"The dessert tonight is sweeter than usual."

Jimin raises his glass with a bright smile, Namjoon adjusts his tie tied perfectly around his neck as he sips from his glass, Hoseok laughs eating the delicious cake with enthusiasm.

Curious, a green tea cake with cream on top.

"It's a shame Yoongi-hyung misses out on dessert." Taehyung speaks pretending a pout on his lips, playing with his spoon with the cream on her plate. "It is especially exquisite today."

"Stop playing already, when will you do it? I'm looking forward to getting started." Jin snaps angrily, pushing the cake out of her sight as he drinks from her wine glass.

Jungkook laughs, turning his phone back on to continue playing as usual. "So impatient, hyung." He says he with a click of annoyance.

Jin rolls his eyes, following her gaze to Jimin who is innocently cowering in her chair. Ignoring how completely obsessed Jungkook is with his games, it really was not his business,for something his youngest friend had his parents, who were too busy with their work, they ran the largest electronics factory in the country, leaving his son in the background just giving him everything he asked for without objection. Always showing a smile when little Jungkook came before them demanding a new console or the best phone.

"It only remains to wait..." Whispering, he released a patient Hoseok. His smile as charming as ever. "For her to decide what to do and then... Plot! She fell into the wrong well."

"I hate when you describe and talk like that, but I can't expect much from a Jung... like you."

However, Hoseok never stops smiling even when anger is consuming his mind causing him to clench his fists under the table and bite his tongue inside his mouth, hidden by his gleaming and visible teeth. Namjoon smiles at her, knowing that she managed to provoke him but that she won't do anything to shut him up.

"Pathetic."

Motherfucker.

Jin breaks the tense silence, shushing everyone with a snap. That silence. Nobody hears anything from you or Yoongi, for a moment they feel the anguish that something bad has happened or that his friend has lost a bit ... The hand. But just seconds later you're rushing down, wearing the same clothes and your face covered in tears. You don't even look at them when you run to the door, leaving a trail of emptiness behind you.

"Hm, intense." This is Jungkook speaking, his eyes still lost on the phone screen of him playing a silly online championship. "She will be fine after hours."

"Jungkook is right, now we must move with Yoongi."

Namjoon gets up walking to your room, surprised that everything seems almost the same as it was before their fight.

He smiles when he manages to see his friend laying on the floor sobbing, and like that children's book called Pinocchio, he feels good being that cricket-shaped voice of reason. Only this time that sweet and serene voice, released one and a thousand blasphemies that would contaminate even the most devout by his beliefs.

He managed to convince Yoongi's easy to manipulate mind, blurting out words almost like a song. Playing with the naive self of hes that still lived and breathes inside him.

You had come home after days of spending with Ari and her boyfriend away from him. You really didn't want to set foot in that house again in years, a small irrational part of you believed that it was all his fault, your real problems started when you set foot in that damn place.

You open the door observing the room in the same way, empty. You try not to make yourself feel ready to go to sleep, without having been able to do it in days, but now you doubted that it would be different here.

You remain static in view of everyone, you had forgotten that at that time they were having dinner together. They only met once a day and it had to be right there.

"Good evening, sorry to interrupt." You ignoring Yoongi's gaze that, he's trying not to get too excited about your return, even though she causes he to euphoric whirl. "Carry on, I'll just go to my room."

"Please no, sit with us."

"I'm not well."

"I insist, sit with us. They were difficult days but I know they can fix it." Jin puts a plate in front of one of the empty chairs, you refuse to sit down but you do it out of compromise.

Everyone seems to be exclusively quiet, dinner was gray, like a black and white painting. Remember the first dinner, where everyone seemed to have so much to say and now that was left behind, Jungkook continues to play with his phone sometimes moving his plate by accident, without touching a single silverware with the intention of eating. Jin eats in peace, so slowly that he is strange. Namjoon reads a book in his hand, eating so cleanly that it's amazing.

Hoseok looks at you playfully from time to time, with a smile that almost makes you smile the same. Jimin and Taehyung seem to communicate silently, they both look at each other with slight grimaces and smiles.

"We can talk?" Yoongi whispers, you feel her breath next to you and instinctively you walk away scared. Still hurt by her actions and attitude, you give your vow of silence by standing up and without saying goodbye, you walk up the stairs.

"How rude." Jungkook interrupts, keeping an eye on his screen lighting up his beautiful face. "He didn't even taste the food."

Yoongi looks at Jin, her oldest friend and the one she trusted the most, seeking some advice. But just gets the same treatment as always, a look insisting that go with you and try to fix her mistake.

However, it was late. You had packed a makeshift suitcase by going down as quietly as you could, exiting through the back door like a thief or a fugitive.

You spent days thinking about your cowardly way of running away, but in the same way you felt better and even more so when you did not receive any message from him. Maybe it wasn't that important to him, it hurt but it also relieved you.

You knew it would be awkward to see him in the face again, but you should go back and get your things over with as soon as possible. You naively thought of forming a friendship, a very distant one, but in the end it would be the healthiest thing for both of you.

"______?" Asked the person who opened the door after you barely managed to ring the bell due to nerves, he was clearly confused.

"W-good morning ... Jin." You greet by taking a few steps back to get a better look at it, you had forgotten how tall it was. "Sorry to bother I just wanted to -..."

"Talk to Yoongi? I'm sorry but he's already better without you, he even met someone new." You were surprised by his austere, sour tone and trying to intimidate you. "And you better go, you are not welcome here."

"No ... No, I-I came for my things but I'm glad to know that it's better now, and that ..." The words stayed in your mouth, almost as if it hurt to admit it. "I was able to find someone, I hope we can be friends. Also with you, I'm sorry I left without explaining or saying goodbye properly."

You waited what seemed like ages for her response, and you expected more than a simple nod of the head, letting you pass without a hitch. You searched your room quickly, trying not to have any contact with any of them for now. You opened the door that had your name on it but you were scared by what you found inside, the whole room had been painted blood red, a very dark color that managed to give you such familiar chills.

"What is this? Where are my things?!" You turned around ready to go and claim but the door closed behind you with a stormy noise. You ran to try to open it but it did not move an inch, you searched the whole room for something useful to help you but it was completely empty, and alone.

You sobbed in fear, not understanding what was happening and why it seemed that the walls were getting narrower every second. You fell to the ground, trying to stay calm and without losing your goal, hours and even days passed for you, you waited to hear at least one noise but everything was so quiet that you had to avoid going crazy, you played with your hands trying to distract yourself and think positive things, you had read many books about stressful situations to know that thinking a lot about those things caused even more stress, you lie on the floor sure that a nap will calm everything down, if it was a nightmare you wanted to wake up and if not , you wanted to dream that it was.

A lock, you hear that particular noise and you wake up. You open your eyes as fast as you can lifting your body, the door was slightly open as if someone was exiting. You scream for help but it closes, you fall back into sadness and despair screaming even more for your freedom.

You didn't deserve this.

You look with regret at the delicious food they left for you, for a moment you think about going on a hunger strike but your stomach demands you not to be so stupid. The same would not change anything. Regardless of manners, you eat as fast as you can, dropping quite a bit of food on the ground in your rush.

It had an exquisite taste, and you could recognize it everywhere. It was one of your favorite dishes, you felt disgusted to compare it to your mother's food, but as magnificent as it was, it reminded you so much of her.

You wait for something to happen, but minutes go by in which you just look at nothing, letting your head fly. Thinking of a thousand things, playing with the spoon and singing in a low voice.

You feel hot from one moment to the next, your vision becomes cloudy and the door opens again. You just stay in the same place, you don't care about anything, not even how they hold you by helping you walk into another room.

"You were right, she is very calm now."

You look at him, their faces so familiar and you try to place them, but your head is flying away at that moment. You close your eyes laughing, and drifting into unconsciousness.

You wake up. You open your eyes and you are tied, you struggle with the ropes that hold your arms while the bed below you makes your body bounce. You touch the sheets realizing that they are extremely soft, you are in an unfamiliar room surrounded by scarlet red, with elegant and shimmering decorations. You try to stand up but your legs, like your hands, are tied.

And you're still quiet because of the rag in your mouth.

You fight the bindings furiously, screaming into the cloth as much as you can get sick of being locked up again.

You think of Yoongi, although at that moment it was irrelevant you wonder where she is and if she knew that she was being kidnapped in such a way, would she help you at least? Resignation covers you completely, fighting the bonds again with such force that you feel like they burn your skin every time you move.

You sob, just as he did one fall day.

Yoongi watches you from the monitor in another room, Jin is talking to Namjoon to the side while Jungkook is still sitting in a corner entertaining on her phone. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok seem reluctant to look at each other despite facing each other.

Remember the day, the one in the past, when he met them. Jimin and Taehyung were already friends playing in one of the children's castles, with their hands pretending to be weapons as they ran around. Hoseok was sitting next to his mother, talking and apparently they had a lot to say. Namjoon did not detach from the side of his father who urged him to go up to the games, while Jin was busy collecting Flowers in a basket that his grandmother was holding.

They were all strangers and even more so he, felt out of place surrounded by so many games and away from home. His parents had freed up a whole day to spend together in a decent park, it was several hours of travel from Daegu to Seoul only for his son to play in a beautiful park surrounded by luxurious buildings.

He dropped down next to her mother, hugging her without wanting to let her go.

"Min Yoongi, we didn't take this trip just for you to sit there all day, son."

"I'm scared..." he whispered, biting her lip and hiding her face in the neck of his beloved mother.

"I see... but the games look so much fun. Run and try them, love."

He nodded still uneasy, walking over to one of the swings where he sat rocking so slowly that he seemed still. He felt hands pushing his body from behind, scared he looked at the boy behind him, he had a smile on his face and waved him with a hand.

"Sorry, I thought you needed to be pushed." He spoke and did not seem at all nervous.

"I'm fine, but thank you..." There was a momentary silence before he interrupted again. "I am Yoongi."

"Hoseok, although my mommy calls me Hobi."

He smiled, offering himself this time to push the swing, they spent minutes like this just helping each other take a walk pleasantly. He didn't even think about it when Hoseok offered to talk to Jimin and Taehyung about how they'll all play together in teams.

Now in the present, he smiled again remembering how he met Jin that same day, he had collided with him when he was running so as not to be caught by Jimin. His older friend was flushed with anger, screaming for her flowers and his dirty clothes. His grandmother teased him a bit making him deny even more, he followed Yoongi for several minutes until the chase because of her desire to hit him became a game.

They both fell to the ground tired, laughing before Hoseok introduced himself to Jin. Namjoon arrived shortly after, curious about the commotion and why he had gotten bored of sitting for so long, as he explained later. Besides that his father didn't have the best conversation starters.

He cried so much that very day when he had to go home again, promising to return soon.

"We have everything ready, are you ready?" Jin stood next to him, his eyes looked at him but he couldn't recognize his childhood friend. The same one that he offered to organize his birthday parties when his parents could not afford them, the same one that he never took advantage of his money to lower it. The one who hugged him as many times as he could when he came out of his therapies after his parents died.

Who was this man?

"Y-yes." He murmured still stunned. He got up, following in his footsteps with his head lowered.

They opened the door showing him, you were distracted biting the cloth in your mouth and trying to move your hands to free them.

Your body felt the same repetitive chill making you look at them feeling their presences so... uncomfortable.

"Enough." Jin ordered as you continued your insistent useless movement, trying to free yourself. "I'm not playing around, stop."

Me neither, idiot. You clench your teeth as much as you can at not being able to say it out loud, you stubbornly keep moving even faster than before. Your hair falls on your face from your busy tossing and you stare at him, challenging his patience and judgment.

You try not to tremble when he approaches you with intentions that deep down manage to scare you. But you continue, the bed moves as fast as you do until his hand falls against your cheek causing a gasp to come out of your gagged mouth.

"Hyung!" Yoongi claims holding her hand to prevent her from trying to hit you again, you feel the particular burning on your right cheek and the tears growing back in your eyes. "Please, no blows. That was not what we agreed on."

Jimin cleared his throat, a satisfied smile on his face, "We never specified anything, actually... Yoongi-hyung."

"Jimin is right, you never specified any kind of restriction for her and us." Namjoon clarified making you look at them confused, it was as if they were talking in terms of employment or contract.

But you had never signed anything.

"B-but they can't do that, they'll never accomplish anything if they force her." He tried to persuade him but Jungkook sighed, dropping his phone to the ground and then stepping on it like it was worthless. "She will just hate them."

"She will do it anyway, if we let her off her or try to convince her to stick with sweet words she won't think twice and she will run away ready to report us for kidnapping."

"In addition to the damages that she suffered here." Namjoon continued to condemn Jungkook, uplifting her surname and her family's status.

"You are in this with us or against us, there is still a free place in the basement for you with chains just as heavy."

Again, the same chill ran through you causing you to cringe in your place. These men were insane, they were capable of betraying each other, and worse, they could possibly also consider shooting themselves in the back when they weren't looking at each other. All for you, as if you were some kind of prize for winning and owning.

After moments that seemed eternal, Taehyung was releasing your mouth as you began to complain about what they were doing, how they dared and demanding freedom.

Really a classic, so much so that it was witty and hilarious that you said it literally.

They forced you to kneel on the ground with your hands on your legs still perfectly tied. More questions filled your mouth not knowing what they were planning, all you could do was look at them so scared it was adorable.

"Uh... Well... I guess one should go first." Jin says, taking a few steps away from your crouched figure.

Jimin stepped forward, standing in front of you causing you to look up from your spot below him.

"What are you doing?" You ask weakly, you try to drag yourself away when his hand struggles with his pants to remove it but Jin holds you in place. Getting on his knees to speak into your ear softly.

"You better take a breath instead of trying to run away, honey. I thought you were smarter... hm?" He laughs mocking your scared face, you refuse to open your eyes and mouth making him stop laughing in annoyance.

Jimin sighs taking your face in his hands so roughly that they will surely leave a purple mark on your skin. He was still dressed, I was hoping I could humiliate you more and then fuck your mouth until you suffocate while his hyung explains everything to you. How it all started, his obsession, his plan, they had planned everything so perfect that it was terrifying, everything monopolized on one board.

Soon as soon as possible you will just be a cute housewife and you will forget your life before that day. Not for nothing did they have a closet full of cheerful and homely outfits ready for you, they wanted to destroy you and then put you back together just to serve them.

You would be his wife, of everyone.

"Come on, little bitch..." Jimin started, reaching over to kiss you on the lips even though you refused to do so. You really no longer had a vote or a word of objection in his plans. "Open your eyes darling, you don't want a stray bullet to land in your mother's skull, do you?" He threatened making you obey even more scared than before.

"P-please don't hurt my mother!" You sob, clasping your tied hands in supplication.

"Oh, we won't.... yet." He whispered kissing your lips one last time before imposing himself on your kneeling body. Her cock came out of her pants, stroked a few times before guiding it to your lips. Your stomach contracted, and you pulled your face away as far as you could before Hoseok held you by the hair tightly pulling you close again. "Take it, baby. Everything will be fine if you just obey."

"I hate them, they disgust me" You whisper before Jin forced you to open your mouth making you take it, you fight for a few seconds but her hips are already moving making you choke and gasp. His moans are so loud they make you squirm but his hands hold your head close to him.

"I told you you'll take a breath, but you're a dumb whore." His breath is hitting your neck directly, your skin crawling trying to distract you from anything other than Jimin's cock in your throat causing you to gag and vomit. "I bet you're wondering why, what did you do, and nothing really. Or if Yoongi!"

You do not look at your boyfriend before, you only focus on Jin who smiles, caressing your body with his hands, almost exceeding your limits. However, what did it matter if he did it, there was nothing you could do for yourself.

"You were only here, I think we all loved you from the first moment we saw you. We spent many nights wondering what was special about you, many of us had dated women before but you... You were so different, you had something that attracted us and it made us go crazy. " His hands squeezed your breasts causing you to gasp on Jimin's cock who moaned with pleasure, continuing his steady and hard rhythm. "Taehyung got involved in the matter. "

Jimin smirked when your eyes went up to him, your eyes showing how angry and helpless you felt. And it was exquisite.

"I bet you didn't know about your beloved boyfriend's background,locked up in a rehab center for alcoholics for two years. Three years taking therapy for his depression after the tragic death of his parents, quite strong actually." His words had such a strong past but from his mouth they came out as if it were not so important. Something common for him. "I'm surprised he loved you so much and didn't tell you."

You cried unable to turn your face to look at him, deep down you wanted to put Yoongi aside and not hate him for this. But it seemed almost impossible when he was there, doing nothing, so calm that it was unreal that he had ever looked at you directly and declared his love to you over and over again. For months.

"He really was fine for a while until we decided to make him fall again, one drink after another... First trust him, then question their relationship and finally make them argue." A laugh left his lips, it was almost uncomfortable that he was the only one doing it. Everyone else was so quiet just watching. "But I can't give myself all the credit, let me introduce ourselves well, my dear."

Jimin walked away from you letting you breathe again, you had almost forgotten that he had been doing that act against you. Your tied hands help you hold off the ground by not being able to breathe properly, you feel so weak that you are about to pass out but you refuse to look weak in front of them.

"Kim Seokjin, son of the best chefs in the country and heir owner of thousands of five-star restaurants, inside and outside the country." His body crouched down, making an extremely long bow. Namjoon stood next to him, with the same smile from the day he met you. "Kim Namjoon, the only and adored son of the best lawyers and mayoral candidates, future presidents if occasion permits." There was a strange tone behind his voice, with a knowing wink. "I thought you can guess what Hoseok's parents do, but I'll tell you just in case. Great psychiatrists recognized for their countless achievements outside and within the country, having a tradition from generation to generation, capable of manipulating even the cleverest mind like yours."

Hosoek smiled at you, but this time his smile showed malice and pride. All that time you were surrounded by people who wielded a certain power and influence, oblivious to the fact that they could ever use it against you.

"Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung... Maybe you heard about their surnames on the news two years ago? Families specialized in medicine, their knowledge dazzles science and biology. Before allies and now both surnames are enemies competing for the market, but who would say that their children would meet secretly and use their same knowledge to retain a precise treasure." His hand stroked your hair causing you to recoil angrily, with a grimace of disgust and resignation. "Well... Finally Jungkook, son of the best technology creators in the country. Capable of creating anything, millionaires obviously, like everyone. Faithful lovers and devoted to he son, giving him everything he wants. " He stopped for a moment and then brought his hand to your ear taking out one of your earrings, you looked at him confused before he opened it showing a tiny device that lit up. "Even creating a more than wonderful device, a tracker of the smallest size."

You opened your mouth completely petrified, looking at each and every one of them. Most of them had a firm and conceited posture, but your eyes only looked at him.

"Were you in on this?" You ask by moving your body slightly, Yoongi only remains silent, avoiding looking at you at all costs, even if it is out of mercy you demand a simple word. "Speak! Tell me! Tell me!" You scream completely out of control, letting out all your frustration and anger with him, just him. It's all his fault. "Tell me now! To finally be able to completely hate them all... Please tell me, I just want to stop inventing and fooling my head trying to justify why you are standing there doing nothing for me" You sob almost exhausted, " Without helping me, when before you said you love me."

His eyes meet yours a few seconds before Jungkook chimed in, completely certain that you were trying to play your manipulation cards to get rid of them. Funny, they had done the same to catch you, their hyung could sometimes be so... credulous. That it was ironic that she was older than him.

"Good enough talk for today." He demanded, causing you to hide your head again in fear. You were so scared, even with the pain in your cheek and jaw from being forced by Jimin, you would never give up on them.

Your mouth felt dry, you couldn't remember the last time you drank water alone. As if they could read your thoughts, Taehyung appeared with a tray with a glass of water and a purple pill.

"Take that away from me." You scream when he tries to put the pill in your mouth, backing up as far as your bound legs will allow.

He sighs bored, as if he doesn't have the patience to deal with it, "If you want water you'll have to do this."

"What is it?" You ask almost breathless from the lack of water in your body, he smiles before bringing the pill to his face to look at it rolling it on his finger.

"Hm... Vitamins." Respond after hesitating. "Everything you need in one compact little pill. It was an invention by Jimin and me, we were hoping you would be the first to try it."

A few seconds ago you remember hearing about the reputations of both families, they were specialists who probably passed that knowledge on to their children. If they knew what they were doing with them, they would be shocked. Your reasoning tells you no, to throw it away and try to run away but your head and body can't take it anymore, they demand water and a rest.

"I-it's okay." You accept, removing the pill and the glass of water from the tray angrily. You put the pill in first, then the water so hard your mouth hurts from the force.

You return the glass silently, eyeing him suspiciously before sitting back down and walking a few inches away. You wait for everyone to do something, but they stay so still as dolls that it scares you, everything about them and their attitudes was creepy.

I wish you had noticed earlier.

And now you feel it, it was not pain, nor anxiety. I was just calm, the noises seem to decrease and your vision does not blur but you feel so relaxed that you do not seem to be affected by any drugs. You could feel it all, but you didn't care.

It was relaxing but you weren't far this time, you remember the previous scenes. When you ate the food they gave you, it was similar but as if it had been modified so that you can remain docile and obedient, but at the same time you know what they are doing.

Your body falls on the bed, you don't even try to get up. Your brain isn't thinking about that, it just gets distracted by the decorations around it, but it clearly perceives one of them nearby. Namjoon is behind your body lying face down, half is on the bed and your legs are still kneeling on the floor. You feel his kisses so desperate on your neck, his hands touching your breasts and stomach trying to lower himself further, anxious not to wait to fuck you as he always wanted and should have been.

You do not fight when his legs open yours with force and speed, you just stand still, thinking with your head glued to the soft sheets of the bed, deep down you can slightly feel your desire to push him and push him away furiously, you want to do it but not you do. You feel so confused that you sob into the sheets in released frustration.

"I thought I heard from you, that her wouldn't refuse anything with his stupid pill." Jin whispers, disgusted seeing you struggle with yourself in search of reason.

"I don't see her deny it." Jimin retorts, crossing his arms with a small victorious smile.

Yoongi stands aside, not wanting to accept this but likewise, like you, does nothing to avoid it while Namjoon sinks deep inside you causing you to writhe overwhelmed and let out a groan of pain, your mouth opens to complain and probably ask him to stop, but he instantly closes again only releasing more gasps and squeals.

They spend minutes with all eyes on you, taking the cock of her friend who abuses your sore pussy from overstimulation, this time you are crying and begging for mercy to stop. Even in your unconsciousness you continue to feel all the pain and also the pleasure that is now almost non-existent.

"S-stop!" You cry between gasps of exhaustion, your hands had been released by Jungkook seconds ago so that you can hold on properly. However, you only use them to try to ward off Namjoon who is holding you against the bed by slamming his body against yours with obscene noises. The bed squirms like you, colliding with the wall in sync.

"A little more baby... Just a little more... And I'll fill you with my cum, so fucking tight. You like that, hm?" Her breath very close to your cheek makes you react, you squeeze your eyes almost suffering from your next inevitable orgasm. You scream making everyone watch you fascinated by how your face contracts with pleasure and pain, you try to walk away when the moment of ecstasy recedes, but he continues to fuck you bareback hard, selfishly chasing the release of him against you.

You spent hours repeating the same routine, sometimes sometimes even more hours than you can remember or count.. Your body was completely covered with bruises and marks not only made by them manually, you had discovered in the worst way that Hoseok had a great fetish to make small cuts to any animal or person that had skin and that glistening blood came out of those wounds, red as hell and as sweet as ambrosia.

A delicacy, truly a true delicacy blessed by God.

Jin could not stop laughing at your overwhelmed face, sometimes he would sit next to you while your body was fucked uncontrollably, watching your face move on the sheets with the constant and hard movements of his friends.

"Do you enjoy it, you dirty bitch?" You knew he was making fun of it, not only because it denigrated your dignity, but also because you couldn't answer correctly and the only thing that moved was your head up and down from the thrusts. As if you were affirming his disgusting words. "You like it right?" And again. "I bet you will enjoy it every day from now on, do you want to marry us, little bitch? Be ours forever, that we fuck you every damn day like that, that we also fill you up that you would get pregnant, you would have our children , and you would gladly. Do you accept _______?"

You did not want to know where he managed to get your last name, nor your full name and less because he thought that after the effect of whatever they had given you, you would really accept being his damned wife.

But he just stands there, watching Jungkook abuse his new power against you and taunt him.

I just wanted to wait for everyone to leave, so I could hug you, heal you, and ask for forgiveness.

He couldn't save you if he was chained to the basement like they threatened to do. He was afraid of his own friends, who looked at him madly when hours before he thought of withdrawing from the plan, Hoseok as charismatic as he always claimed to be able to cut his neck so easily if I took you away from them.

Now, they were doomeds.

The painting lost its color once more.

[hawkland]

(Mostly) Destiel Fic Recs #5

This is a LONG recs post because it’s been a while since I did an update and I fell hard into reading one author’s work (DeanRH). In fact I could easily do a rec post just of their fics alone, but for this round I’m just going to pick out a handful of my absolute favorites so far, the ones I’d recommend to start out with, along with more other authors’ works I’ve especially enjoyed lately.

Absolution at the Five-and-Dime by DeanRH (125k)  - this is perhaps THEE DeanRH fic to start with if you want a good, long read with a little bit of everything (Roadtrips! Intriguing casefic! Americana! Tasty Dean/Cas pining! Wing!kink and unique angel lore! Kinky soul fisting and tentacles!) It’s kind of two of parallel stories in one: the first, a flashback to Dean and Sam's first year hunting on their own (as well as trying to avoid hunting, and John in general); the second on how Dean and Cas finally get together during an unusual case and when Dean is able to really let go of his past trauma and accept himself/accept love from Cas. 

What I love about DeanRH’s work is that they write from the unique point of view of a drifter, so they understand living on the road, traveling place to place, and the highs and lows of that life like no others I’ve encountered in SPN before. (The author’s notes are often as much fun to read as the stories themselves). They also write a kickass angel!Cas and never lose sight of his non-human traits and background. Their writing style is unique - almost poetic in nature, and I know some readers have found it difficult to get into. But it works really well for me in their SPN fic...gives it the flavor of oral story telling as might actually happen at a drifter’s camp (with one story written exactly as such). Be warned this particular fic does play up the idea of John Winchester being mentally abusive and Dean having to turn tricks when he was younger in order to support him and Sam, so there is some dark stuff. But as someone who grew up with mentally abusive parent, reading this was extremely cathartic to me and believably written (unlike some stories that go too over the top with abusive John, or just don't understand how that kind of abuse leaves lifetime psychological scars.)

The rest of this round’s recs below the cut.

Carnevale by DeanRH (18k) - Actually the first fic by this author I read, because I just couldn’t resist a story set in my favorite place in the world, Venice, Italy. Castiel is the Angel of Venice, banished there for so long he does not even know or remember the reasons why. But Carnevale season is the one time a year he can let his wings out - figuratively and literally. And during this particular Carnevale season, he meets an intriguing masked young American tourist there with his brother and their one night stand turns into something far more powerful than either expected. This one’s hot, romantic, and achingly sad at the end as it all ties together unexpectedly with canon-verse...though with a hint for the future so it’s definitely not totally sad. I loved how DeanRH clearly understands Venice as a fellow lover of the city, the side of it most tourists never see unless they spend a long time there. This story made me cry just from wanting to be back in Venice again.

Ice cream was sweeter, food more satisfying, everything was an epicurean delight. There was just something magical about Venice, and he had lived here in the city for hundreds of years, so the shine should have worn off by now.

But it didn't, and there was always something more, something wonderful to discover around the next corner. The painted eaves of a church. The beauty of two women dancing with flowers in their teeth across the Piazza San Marco one day, overcome by the sheer joy of just being there. The way the university students still created Venetian masks, like Castiel's extravagant volto mask and Dean's humble servetta muta, with crafts that had been handed down across the generations. The morning silence that lay against the stones.

Hard Landing by DeanRH (26.9k) - A bit similar in theme to Carnevale. A pre-series Dean and Sam are sight-seeing in Spain when an angel, struck by a babel-spell, crash lands right in front of Dean. A strange yet seriously hot encounter with the angel turns into something much more complicated when the brothers return home and realize something more serious is afoot and they are both trapped in the middle of it. This is another story where things are very much not as they seem at first (as fun as that is!) It features master strategist Cas at his best, with a side helping of delightful trickery care of Gabriel and Balthazar as they deal with Lucifer, Michael...and a few others along the way.

The Sacred Band of Thebes by DeanRH (14.5k) - The last DeanRH fic I’m gonna allow myself to include in this round up, because it’s just very soft and sweet and beautiful - for a story about Dean & Cas being magically transported back in time to ancient Sparta! This is another story infused with a great knowledge of place and history, with some wonderfully delightful original characters added in that make it all the more enjoyable to read.

And now on to some other authors, I promise!

IPAMIS OL OLPRIT by emmbrancsxx0 (56k). A really wonderful fic that take a different look at what might have happened with a temporarily resurrected John Winchester during Season 14. Dean & Cas are in an established relationship here, and John here isn’t too happy about it — though mostly because he sees Cas (and Jack) as monsters, the kind of monsters he spent his lifetime hunting. This is a great fic for the emotional complexity of how John, Dean and Cas are all handled. John isn’t a cardboard evil dad, Dean is struggling between his loyalty to his father and to Cas, and Cas is increasingly bitchy/frustrated at Dean still being so desperate for his father’s approval (and all the more complex for not just being a quietly suffering perfect supporting boyfriend.) There’s some great action sequences in this too along with the emotional angst and a delicious dose of hurt!Cas if that’s your thing (as it is for me :D)

Abrenuntio by Neonbat (51k). A very dark but compelling AU take on the/a apocalypse universe. Dean, Sam and John are all alive in this post-angel war-apocalyptic world. They are part of a group of human survivors fighting against the angel army when they manage to capture “Blue” — a particularly feared angel of death. Dean is tasked with bringing Blue in for interrogation and he becomes a prisoner in their camp after John is killed. As mentioned, this is a pretty dark/sad fic (with some rather gruesome torture scenes) but I still found it quite compelling as a look at how things could have gone in some other parallel universe. And somehow the author manages to make the Dean/Cas relationship come together despite them starting out as complete enemies. This is one of those AUs that works for me because the core of the characters really shine through despite the differences in the setting.

if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee (37k) - a gorgeous post-Empty rescue fic that takes an approach I haven’t really seen explored in detail before (despite being something I’ve actually thought about as something that could’ve happened.) What if Cas has spent so long denying himself happiness, and then trapped in regrets and false-rescue scenarios created by the Empty, that he can’t trust that his rescue is real? And so he runs off to be on his own - literally stealing the Impala because he can’t handle being in Dean’s presence one moment longer - and only slowly comes to terms with the idea that it’s over now and he can be happy with/around his friends and family. This one’s both deliciously angsty and at times funny/sweet, looking at Cas’s relationships not just with Dean but with Sam, Jack, Claire, even Eileen. It does some fun stuff with other returned angels and demons who now find themselves back on Earth (and human), and...I just really enjoyed this one a lot.

Both Saved and Lost by angelfishofthelord (13.7k) Gen Cas character study, absolutely gorgeous and sad and one of those fic I couldn’t stop thinking about the day after reading it. AU where Apocaverse!Cas isn’t immediately killed by our Cas during 13x22 but instead hitches a ride back to the main ‘verse. Dean and Sam want to keep him alive for information on Michael; Cas is torn and trying to figure out just how similar—or different—they really are. Some great angel stuff here (I also highly recommend this author’s Jack & Cas “dadstiel” fics, they’re equally lovely and heartbreaking at the same time.)

flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k) - THEE “What exactly did Dean eat in Purgatory, anyway?” fic you’ve probably already heard about. *cough* I’ve been trying to work up the courage to read this one for a while and finally gave in and OH MY CHUCK I’m so glad I did. It’s perversely disturbing and beautiful at the same time, Cas is wonderfully DERANGED and ALIEN in that way that I love it when fics managed to convey just how much angels are NOT human. Do heed the tags.

Full of Grace by ilovehowyouletmefall (11k) - Another one for the weird-as-fuck-angel!Cas lovers’ list. Heaven/canon-compliant fic where Dean knows he should feel happy and at peace but he just...isn’t, even with Cas and all of his friends and family there. He finally goes looking for Cas when he’s been absent for a time and, for the first time, gets to not just see but experience his true form. Another one that hits some kinks I knew I had and others I didn’t...until now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

don't ask me where i've been by saltwound / @1x06 (8k) - I can never resist a good 09x06 fiction gap fic! What makes this one really stand out is how well it captures Cas’s internal voice - his struggles adapting to human senses, limitations and emotions versus what/how he experienced things as an angel. The longing and feelings between Dean & Cas here are so achingly beautiful and I just wanted to cry when Cas says he misses hearing Dean’s prayers, so Dean, he...oh, I’m not going to spoil it. *happy sigh* Just read it.

this room is wrong by DarkHeartInTheSky (12k) - Sometimes I like torturing myself with some good 15x03 divorce arc angst and this fic hit that button just so. It’s an alternative take on where Cas might have ended up after leaving the bunker and features some great Cas & Sam friendship feels, when Sam sets out to try to bring Cas home. It’s all the stuff you’d wish the writers would’ve let them talk out in canon.

Well that’s more than enough for this round! Go forth, read and give some great writers some kudos & comment love!

[gaygoetia]

To return the favour, I'd like to hear your thoughts on Theon/Jon too, please. :)

Hi! Absolutely 😊

When I started shipping it

I don't remember specifically when I started shipping them but I remember reading the books and being fascinated by all the parallels between them. I'm pretty sure I was already shipping them by the time A Dance With Dragons came out in 2011 so it's been at least 10 years! (which makes me feel old as hell lol)

My thoughts

Too many to put down haha. These characters are perfect for the "enemies to lovers" trope. In canon they have such an antagonistic relationship on the surface but they have more in common than they realise and deep down they do care about each other.

What makes me happy about them

I love how different they are in complimentary ways. Jon is repressed and uptight so could learn a thing or two from Theon's "I do what I want" attitude but Theon is an irresponsible, insecure mess so he should really take a leaf out of Jon's book! They're not afraid to call each other out in ways I think are really beneficial for their development but they also understand better than most what the other is going through so there's a sense of mutual understanding there too.

What makes me sad about them

Well if we're talking about canon definitely the constant tragedy that plagues them both lol. I guess I'm also sad that they don't realise (yet?) in canon how similar they both are and how the things they hate about each other are actually rooted in familiar insecurities.

Things done in fanfic that annoy me

I hate when fanfic strips them of all their flaws (when that's literally what makes them so interesting!) to the point where they feel like totally different characters.

I also am not a fan of incest in fanfic and unfortunately it's pretty rampant in this fandom (for understandable reasons). I'm cool with other people shipping what they want but personally the moment incest comes up I usually stop reading.

Things I look for in fanfic

I am not someone who gravitate towards fluff or pre-established relationships. I love fiction which explores complex emotions and the messy reality of being a human being (especially one with a fuck ton of trauma and/or internal biases to work through)

Snowjoy isn't a particularly popular pairing (especially since the show ended) so I'll usually read any fic with them in lol. But my favourite tropes for them are slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, fake dating and modern AU's.

I also love fics which explore or touch on mental illness, addiction, toxic masculinity, internalised homophobia and toxic friendships/relationships

Who I'd like them to end up with, if not each other

I truly do ship Theon with almost every character lmao. Theon/Robb, Theon/Jeyne, Theon/Patryk and Theon/Sansa are a few that come to mind. That said, in fic where he ends up with women I need him to have character development where he learns to respect women before I can root for them.

Jon I ship with fewer people but I can get on board with Jon/Satin, Jon/Ygritte and Jon/Sam.

My happily ever after for them

In canon its hard to think of one that would make sense tbh. Probably either Theon joining the Night's Watch and them being together there or them going beyond the Wall and living together as wildlings. I'm personally not a big fan of Jon as Lord of Winterfell/King in the North in general but especially when it comes to this pairing because I think it would create an uncomfortable power imbalance after everything Theon has been through.

Who is the big spoon and who's the little spoon?

I think they switch! I think Theon has a soft spot for being the little spoon though after a lifetime of wanting to be one but feeling too self conscious to ask.

Favourite non sexual activity

Definitely agree with you about the bickering haha.

Bonus

If you like this pairing you may enjoy this playlist I made for them (depending on your music taste):

It's an indie-rock playlist based mostly on their pre-Ramsay dynamic.

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

Watched the new Bond movie! I enjoyed it. The rest of this will be spoilers and also I'm posting from mobile so I can't read more, so just... scroll fast if you don't want to see anything

***

I liked Madeline (Madelyn?) a lot more in this movie than Spectre; she felt like more of an actual character than "here's who we think the perfect woman for Bond would be", which is funny since I think she may have actually had less total screentime? and the flashback scene that opened the movie had already been described in Spectre, but it felt much more relevant and impactful on her actions (and not just because it was, y'know, a significant plot development) in the present day scenes, and her motivations were altogether much more tangible throughout this one... I mean, obviously not to degrade a trauma narrative when it's successful, but Spectre simply was a bad movie where all of the characters were very flat, and she suffered most for it being her first introduction.

I thought No Time to Die was also, overall, a very fitting send off for Craig's Bond. Lashanna Lynch's 007 was compelling and fun-- she truly earned the moniker, and while obvs she didn't NEED Bond's approval, it was nice to see her get it; it WAS nonetheless fitting that she handed it back for the last mission, although I was annoyed they never established what 00 designation Bond was using beforehand (or that, presumably, she was using afterwards). With Madeline being more compelling in this one, the romance between her and Bond was as well, so I liked that Bond got that... closure, I suppose, even if it was so very bittersweet when things fell apart the way they did.

(Although I didn't buy the idea that Heracles was truly permanent and a solution to destroying the nanobots couldn't be found. I mean... c'mon. Why didn't his EMP work, for one thing? but whatever. I did see his death coming a mile away and also kind of appreciated it, so I won't quibble too hard. If for nothing else, Craig finally got to say a true goodbye to a character he hated playing 😂)

I liked that Bond's friendships were upheld-- Felix Leiter being the one man Bond evidently told how to find him (as it seemed at least to me that Naomi had followed Felix and thereby found Bond, not that MI6 knew where he was), Moneypenny and Q continuing to side with him over M, and even the first moment with him and Tanner was kind of cute.

(Tangential sidenote: Thanks for confirming Q is gay (or at least dating a dude, he could be bi); it would have been nice for it to be more than a passing line, but tbf it got about the same level of attention as Moneypenny's bf in Spectre. There's just not much room for secondary character's outside lives in these. And Q's an established and beloved character already, which makes it easier to swallow. I know it's going to be #controversial that they so thoroughly skewered 00Q despite both of them being canonically not-straight (well... a controversial take on my own part this time, but I think it's arguable whether or not Bond was bluffing to Silva in that scene in Skyfall, so arguably canon, anyway), and believe me, I have read a ton of 00Q fic and even written some that never quite saw the light of day. But I'm also begging anybody whose first instinct is ANGER to take a deep breath and look at the character arcs and admit that across all 5 Craig movies Bond's was pretty good.)

I am pissed about what happened to Felix, though; he's a great character in the novels and this version of him from Craig's movies has been superb. I would have liked to have seen him potentially stick around as Felix for whoever does the next Bond. Ana de Armas's CIA agent's name escapes me, but she was fun. Maybe she, at least, will stick around to be a CIA contact down the line-- assuming they keep any characters consistent, which I suppose is questionable. It's how they did it with previous M and Q's, maintaining those actors/actresses when possible despite reboots of Bond, but who the hell knows, I guess.

With both Armas's character and Lynch's Naomi (or was it Nomi? I'm so bad with character names), Craig's Bond did his grinny little "so delighted these new people are competent and interesting" thing that he did with Moneypenny and Q in Skyfall (and sort of Madeline in Spectre? but he was just so horny in that scene, idk), and I love that. Which also, notably, he didn't do with Ash (?); shoulda known the guy would turn out to be evil rather than incompetent.

I think Mallory's M was the most undercut by this movie; their mid-movie explanation of his motives re: Heracles made it... better, and I did like the callback to his words to C from Spectre, but it still didn't fully compute since like... if you can't even name your villains, how are you supposed to come up with their DNA? Bad plan, and quite obviously way too easily turned against... everyone. I also didn't care for how insistent they seemed to be through both Spectre and No Time to Die that Bond and M should just never get along, when Skyfall really did set things up for a whole new cooperative set of secondary characters.

Altogether, though, I thought it was a good movie, enjoyable to watch, and capped off the throughline of Craig's movies quite nicely. I was quite content with it.

[agrlsname]

Fic Masterpost

I’ve signed up for Fandom Trumps Hate for the first time, and thought it an excellent moment to share a guide to my 32 fics.

If you want me to write a fic for you, you can bid on me here!

If you want to check out my works first, I’ve written some lists that can help you find something to your tastes. The most popular fics, my own faves, and those with the main themes I keep coming back to, I’ve written about in more detail. Below the cut you can find the fics sorted by more standard genres. I hope this helps you navigate my AO3!

FIVE FAVES of the fandom My most popular fics - the ones that made my name.

1. What Friends Do 23k, E A story about the blurry limits between friendship and romance. A long, fluffy first chapter, an angsty second chapter, a third chapter with smut, topped off with a super fluffy epilogue. Apparently that’s the recipe for success – this fic is twice as popular as my second most well-loved fic!

2. Who I Really Am 13k, T John’s journey of self-discovery and acceptance. With the help of Harry, he slowly comes to terms with his bisexuality. One of the rare fics I’ve written which takes place post-s4, but the only things I’ve really cared about from it are the existence of Rosie and the Hug. Podfic from Podfixx available.

3. The General Idea 3k, T A short story about how their relationship shifts when Sherlock asks John to retire with him. Podfic from Podfixx available, and there’s a sequel too now (A Home for Bees and Beekeepers).

4. Coldness/Heat 3k, E My first PWP, featuring my fave trope of all time: Bedsharing! This turned into a series of fluffy and/or smutty fics posted annually on New Year’s Eve (New Year’s Kiss).

5. Tomorrow’s Song 24k, E When John confesses his love for Sherlock, Sherlock isn’t ready to hear it. Heavy angst ensues when they both try to deal with Sherlock’s return from the dead, and Sherlock battles with his demons. Writing this fic is what made me Understand Sherlock and I’ve loved him fiercely ever since.

FIVE FAVES of agirlsname The fics that I’m the most proud of – the ones I still love years after posting them.

1. Who I Really Am 13k, T I’ll mention it again, because it’s the most important thing I’ve ever written. I wrote it while I went through this journey myself, and many readers have messaged me over the years saying it helped them realise/come to terms with/come out as bisexual.

2. The Sky is Full of Fiddles 25k, T A teenlock AU set in rural Sweden in the 1890s. Sherlock is a folk music fiddler, John is a fiddle-maker-to-be, and they’re both skilled folk dancers. This is where I finally took the boys home to me and put them in the culture that I truly know, and gifted them with the music and dance I love most in the world. Magical, nearly mystical atmosphere, young summer love, the pull of music and dancing… the story turned out almost like a fairy-tale.

3. This Is Your Song 80k, E I’ve always loved the Moulin Rouge movie, and I had such a blast putting Sherlock in the role of a fiercely talented actor forced to work as a prostitute, and John as the writer who falls in love with him… Many people skip this one because of the MCD, but with its poetic language, heartbreaking versions of the characters and familiar story, to me this might be my best piece of writing ever.

4. Your Daughter 9k, G The story of Sherlock’s relationship with John’s newborn baby – the way he feels about a baby that isn’t his, but that he becomes a second parent to. There’s none of the things I hated with the later seasons (Sherlock and John’s frayed relationship, Mary, or any of the fuckery that was s4) – the only thing I kept was John having a baby (not called Rosie unless you HC it). Another story I lived while I was writing it.

5. 52 Years 4k, M A string of headcanons from every year Sherlock and John spend knowing each other. I like the way I wrote this one – a little odd, pretty poetic, sometimes angsty, mostly sweet. Underappreciated because it ends in death (of old age), but it isn’t there for the sake of angst but is meant to be beautiful.

Main theme #1: BISEXUALITY These stories deal with John coming to terms with his bisexuality, under angsty or fluffy conditions. Or both.

Who I Really Am 13k, T Every internal argument, every attempt to escape, every fear, and all the joy of coming to terms with bisexuality. Sprinkled with Johnlock angst that obviously ends in Johnlock happiness.

A Singular Friendship 28k, E John struggles with the implications of having a close physical relationship with his male friend. He takes several missteps and dates a woman for a while to prove his heterosexuality, but he deals with his crap in the end.

I’m the Rainbow in Your Jail Cell 2k, G A short, weird ficlet about taking the leap while you still have the chance.

What I Really Want 1k, M A short unilock fic where John has known Sherlock since he was a kid. The first time he has an almost feverish sex fantasy about his best friend.

Main theme #2: POST-REICHENBACH I have worked through my Reichenbach feels over and over. Let me break your heart and then put it back together!

Tomorrow’s Song 24k, E While Sherlock was gone, John realised he had feelings for him. When Sherlock comes back he isn’t ready for John’s love confession and turns him down. They drift apart, John proposes to Mary, everyone is miserable until Sherlock gets his shit together.

gravity 1k, T When Sherlock comes back, they can’t stop touching each other. No anger or hate, only sweet hurt and comfort.

The Secret Blog of Dr. John H. Watson (series, 3 works) 43k, E Sherlock and John get together before Sherlock falls. Here’s how that plays out when he comes back…

We could. 10k, M Sherlock casually jokes about suicide, which triggers John’s trauma from watching him fall. They finally talk it out. Established relationship.

My Messy Miracle 16k, M Sherlock calls John twenty days after the fall to reveal he’s alive. John has to let him go on his mission alone, but after a while he goes after him to save him.

52 Years 4k, M After the many years they spend together, John reflects on the fact that all the happy years more than make up for those difficult years at the beginning.

The Zebra Sheets 13k, M Sherlock isn’t “dead” as long as in canon, and John hasn’t met Mary. Sherlock is traumatised by the torture in Serbia, and John is exhausted from the grief he’s gone through. They go on a vacation to a cottage and grow closer to each other.

Here are suggestions on what to read if you want…

… to focus on Sherlock’s background, emotions and growth: What Friends Do 23k, E Tomorrow’s Song 24k, E Your Daughter 9k, G A Study in Kissing (series, 2 works) 11k, E The Zebra Sheets 13k, M

… a John who’s already 100% fine with his bisexuality (or doesn’t make a fuss when he realises): The Secret Blog of Dr. John H. Watson (series, 3 works) 43k, E New Year’s Kiss (series, 4 works) 11k, E This Is Your Song 80k, E The Sky is Full of Fiddles 25k, T My Messy Miracle 16k, M

… angst and ache in your heart (but almost always with a happy ending): Friends (series, 2 works) 51k, E Who I Really Am 13k, T Tomorrow’s Song 24k, E The Secret Blog of Dr. John H. Watson (series, 3 works) 43k, E This Is Your Song 80k, E We could. 10k, M Not Actually a Girl’s Name 5k, G 52 Years 4k, M Hurry to Love 1k, G

… fluffy, romantic, sweet stories: About the Beekeeping Years (series, 2 works) 6k, T New Year’s Kiss (series, 4 works) 11k, E Undersea-Rainbows 11k, E Your Daughter 9k, G The Sky is Full of Fiddles 25k, T A Study in Kissing (series, 2 works) 11k, E All Hearts’ Day 400 words, G The Zebra Sheets 13k, M

… sexy, short stories without much of a plot: Coldness/Heat 3k, E Iron Sparks 2k, E Sex Holiday Manners 2k, E The Adventure of the Ugly Jumper 4k, E The Largest Sex Organ 200 words, E What I Really Want 1k, M

… an AU: This Is Your Song 80k, E The Sky is Full of Fiddles 25k, T What I Really Want 1k, M

… to laugh: Solution of the Final Problem 6k, G The Lost Kiss 3k, M Iron Sparks 2k, E Socks! or A Delicate and Unpredictable Operation 2k, G

… a bite-sized fic on the go: gravity 1k, T I’m the Rainbow in Your Jail Cell 2k, G What I Really Want 1k, M All Hearts’ Day 400 words, G The Largest Sex Organ 200 words, E Hurry to Love 1k, G