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sorcerersandskillusers · 2 years ago

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I think Akutagawa will probably die, but he will transfer Rashomon to Atsushi. That way Dazai’s plan for combining their abilities still comes to fruition.

Sorry for reuploading again, I had to edit any panels containing blood out so tumblr won't flag this for violence again

I really think Akutagawa is going to die in this arc, Asagiri introducing his lung disease on top of saying that he was already dead before he got converted into a vampire feels like a message that this death is supposed to be final. However, I don’t think Akutagawa is done yet in the story, I’m sure he will have at least one last great moment with Atsushi before the end and I think it will tie together a lot of current plot threads.

Why Akutagawa will probably die: A lot of effort was clearly put, into making Akutagawas death seem permanent; He was confirmed dead twice, his lung condition was revealed which means even if he became un-vamped he would still not have long to live, this could be another fake-out death, but at this point I would be madder if it was, because even though I love Akutagawa, any more fake deaths would really lower the tension of the series

A lot of emphasis has also been put on Akutagawa looking for a meaning to his life, and slowly realising that maybe Atsushi is important to what Dazai is trying to show him.

I think that Akutagawa will probably temporarily regain control of his body, him keeping his promise is already proof he is still in there somewhere, Atsushi might reference Dazai and it might shake him out of the vampire's control, calling back to this panel.

But I don’t think he will be fully cured, so he will ask Atsushi for that duel he promised him. It would even parallel Atsushi “killing” Shibusawa in TDA, since both were technically already dead to begin with.

Atsushi taught Akutagawa how to value lives, and the patience to consider his actions. Akutagawa will teach Atsushi the conviction to take them and how to overcome the guilt he feels within himself. each one going from black and white, to grey.

My only hang up for this idea was that it wouldn’t make sense for Asagriri to waste all the build up for Atsushi and Akutagawas abilities being perfect complements to each other, but then I had a brain wave for how both things could still happen.

The strength of Shin Soukoku: Atsushi and Akutagawa have the perfect abilities to compliment each other; Akutagawa’s ability has range, defence, versatility, and the power to cut all physical matter, its main weakness is Akutagawa’s weak constitution.

Atsushi’s ability gives him high speed regeneration, insane speed, enhanced senses, basically indestructible fur and claws that can rend the very fabric of an ability.

And when combined, the ‘Black Tigers Supreme Claws’ are said to be able to even kill God if you can land a hit.

The ultimate spear against the monsters trying to destroy Yokohama.

Together they are the ultimate counter to almost any enemy, Dazai has pointed this out before. So, the best way I can think of to keep that perfect combination if Akutagawa dies is…

Atsushi inherits Rashomon: We know that abilities can be transferred from one person to another, Kyouka (a character with a close connection to both Akutagawa and Atsushi) got her ability from her mother. We also know that whenever Atsushi and Akutagawa fight a major villain they grow more in sink and coordinate and merge their skills more and more. This is what Dazai planned when he joined them together.

We also know that Akutagawa only sees his value in his strength, which for him is almost entirely in his ability. Rashomon is what protected him when he was on the streets, and it is what made Dazai take an interest in him. Strengthening his ability was the only thing he thought about for a very long time… Until Atsushi showed him how to see past his own skill and power.

Atsushi was the one who made him realise that he needed to prioritise some things over his own pride, and in the end, he even sacrificed himself to save Atsushi, proving that lesson had stuck. Him transferring Rashomon to Atsushi would be the ultimate show of humility, him finally letting go of trying to prove his own strength, and instead helping the person he once hated most in the world, he finally learned to temper his sword, just like Dazai wanted him too.

As for Atsushi; he has spent the entire series wracked by indecision, self-loathing and fear. All of which tend to leave him when he is near Akuatagawa. At first because he sees him as an enemy who he can be 100% sure needs to be defeated, so no doubt or fear clouds his mind.

Then as a rival who he can’t afford to let be better than him, someone who gives him confidence just by being everything Atsushi doesn’t want to be.

Finally, as an ally, someone who he can fight alongside and who stops that terrifying fear of being alone that Atsushi has been fighting his whole life. Akutagawa has truly become Atsushi’s source of resolve,

and we see that in how Atsushi perceives him in his vision.

So, if the transfer happens, it could symbolise Atsushi gaining that strength and conviction from Akutagawa once and for all. Completing their respective character arcs of Atsushi teaching Akutagawa to be selfless Akutagawa teaching Atsushi to be brave.

Dazai: Dazai is the ultimate connection for Atsushi and Akutagawa,

he is what binds them together and what drives them apart, he orchestrated their relationship and turned them into his trump card. But something that seems strange is that we never see Dazai’s reaction to Akutagawa’s death. Atsushi meets up with Ango after he escapes the ship, so there’s no way Dazai doesn’t know exactly what happened, the battle on the ship took place days before the Meursault prison break, so Dazai should have been able to receive one of Ango’s messages, so why don’t we see anything from him? not even disappointment.

We know Dazai has been planning sskk since he first met Atsushi,

and it seems crazy that he wouldn’t know about Akutagawa’s lung condition all the way back in the port mafia. So, I think it's possible Dazai always planned to have Akutagawa die to both motivate and strengthen Atsushi, since we’ve seen that he is, or rather was, not above sacrificing people for the greater good of his plans. It would also explain why he stayed so distant from Akutagawa, never really trying to make up for the things he did despite his promise to Oda, if he knew Akutagawa was going to die, then he wouldn’t want to get too attached to him.

I honestly think that if Dazai might regret his plan now, Atsushi has helped Dazai grow so much so fast since they met, his current arc with Sigma is proof enough of that. But it's far too late to back out of it now, and he probably justifies it with ‘He’s doomed to die anyway.’

The final battle: Every arc final battle in bsd involves Atsushi and Akutagawa fighting, whether against each other, or side by side. And through each of those fights, the two of them grow closer and closer, understanding each other a little more.

I think the impact of their defeat on the ship would be undercut if Akutagawa is just healed and they fight Fukuchi again just like before, there would need to be some major difference this time, and something to give Atsushi an edge over Fukuchi. And what better way to do that, then to use the form that already defeated him once (before he cut the past)

The Black Tiger’s Supreme Claws can cut through space, so can get close to Fukuchi despite his martial arts and insane ability. And If the time sword is cut by the tiger’s claws its ability will stop working, so it might be the only way to kill Fukuchi permanently.

The main weakness of BTSC was Akutagawa, since he was defenceless while it was used,

so if Atsushi could use it on his own, he would probably be a proper match for Fukuchi in a fight. (Also just imagine Atsushi showing up to face Fukuchi in Akutagawas coat, which he still has since he escaped wearing it and which was originally Dazai’s which fits so well, and facing Fukuchi to avenge Akutagawa, who he now thinks of as a friend.)

And for anyone who thinks that this would make Atsushi to OP, remember that BSD is not a show about who can beat who in a fight, its a show of strategy and hax, there are still plenty of ability users who could counter someone like Atshushi, this would just bring him to the same table as the other heavy hitters. Also keep in mind that the next arc will probably be when we see the skill users from Europe, who are meant to be the most powerful in the world, like the transcendents.

The event and aftermath: I think the actual transfer would happen after they finally have their duel and Akutagawa if dying, he would transfer Rashomon to Atsushi and ask him to continue Dazai-sans mission and he would acknowledge Atsushi as a more worthy subordinate then he ever was. He might even ask Atsushi to apologise to Kyouka for him, since he seems to genuinely care for her somewhat, it would be a really powerful moment for both of them.

And Afterward I hope Atsushi Finally snaps at Dazai, and actually calls him out for how he treated Akutagawa, which would be great for both Dazai and Atsushi’s character growth and maybe help Dazai realise that he feels genuinely remorseful for what he did, and that might help him understand how Oda felt after he gave up killing.

Overall this theory just ties together so many plot threads, character storylines and bits of foreshadowing, that I really think it might come true, but of course one of BSD’s best qualities is how unpredictable it is, so who knows what will ultimately happen.

I had to remove a lot of the panel evidence, here are all the panels I took out: link

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd analysis #bsd theories #bsd theory #bungou stray dogs theory #beast atsushi #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bsd atsushi #nakajima atsushi #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #bsd akutagawa #ryunosuke akutagawa #bungou stray dogs manga #bsd manga spoilers

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us3rnam3-r3dact3d · 1 month ago

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i always love stories w different povs, in the canon you didn't really get to see how quinn affected everyone else. baaabe and angel are unempowered, like I could not imagine the stress that both of them must have been going thru- they've been told theres a psycho serial killer vampire on the loose who might be coming for the shaw pack and they're just going to their 9-5????? no?????????? i like how you described how small everything became for someone like angel, they had to be confined to 10-19, they slept, ate and worked there, that would fucking drive me insane.

AAAAAASSSSHHHHHHH, save me gentle but assertive asher, gentle but assertive asher if you can hear me please,,,,,,, im so happy he told them, ash is the type of friend that would never keep something like that away from them, the guilt would eat him alive

GUY AND ANGEL AS SIBLINGS YEAAAAAAHHHHHHHH LETS FUCKING GOOO U GET IT 🫵🫵🫵🫵 but fr tho angel has/is going THROUGHT IT,, please let them relax for 5 seconds,,,,, pls let them sleep with their husband it's all they want

THIS DUDE IS FUCKING EVERYWHERE

them crossing their legs ooh im unwell, how do you write his creepy ass dialogue so well

and angel being "nice" as a defense mechanism is so real- u ever have a man come up and talk to you and you just get this feeling that if you upset him or say the "wrong thing" he's gonna do something to you,,, lemme tell you it's not fun at all. you're just overcome w this paralyzing feeling and you feel yourself shrinking into prey, thats what I felt reading their convo holy shit dude

DAVID YOU FUCKING BASTARD YOU COULDVE ENDED THIS WHOLE THING HE LET HIM GO???? HE FUCKING LET HIM GO????? HELLO?? ARE WE STILL TALKING ABOUT THE SAME QUINN??? MOTHERFUCKER WHY DIDNT YOU RAM IT INTO HIS SKULL- put me in the next chapter and give me free range i need to show these bitches how it's done. i never thought david could disappoint me, YALL DIDNT EVEN APPREHEND HIM OR NOTHING???? CALL THE COPS????? CALL COLM??????? IM NEVER GETTING OVER THIS HE LET HIM GO FOR REAL BRO WHAT nahhhh darlins about to crash the fuck out im so mad rn

im done

-🦀

CRAB ANON!!!!! Bro I knew as I was writing this that would piss you off. I promise David has his reasons!! All will be revealed eventually!!

Bro the hostage situation that abusive people can put you into is SUCH AN INTERESTING THING!!!! Part of the reason that Quinn's cruelty is particularly vile is that it lingers even when he isn't there. He has a sort of mystic, supernatural quality about him even in this fully human form. He seems to be all powerful, always lingering, always in the right place to terrorize the right person left vulnerable. The thing is that he actually isn't. Quinn isn't following around each member of the crew at all times, but what is following them is the knowledge that he COULD BE!! He haunts people. A mortal ghost, breathing down necks. One of my favorite moments in the story is the moment that Freelancer feels like they're being watched at the end of the Thanksgiving chapter. There is no way for them or the audience to know if that was Quinn or their imagination or any of their other ghosts. He haunts the narrative!! He haunts the characters!!! He haunts you, the audience!!!

Angel's going crazy. Who can blame them???

Asher!! Bro I live by Asher being a good leader and an even better friend. He won't keep the truth from people to save their feelings, and he very honestly trusts them. He trusts them not to run, not to put themself in danger. That's not something David can say.

I'm so glad you noticed the leg crossing. Very intentional.

YES!!! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THIS IS!! So fun fact Trevor is actually based on a coworker I had when I worked in food service. I think we've all met a slimy, terrible man who makes it clear, whether by obvious or underhanded threats of violence, that you can't say no to him. That the safest thing you can do is play nice. It's a trick, it's never really safe, but Angel has survived this long doing so.

And again, David has his reasons for not killing Quinn right then and there. More shall be revealed soon!!!

#redacted asmr #my redacted content #redacted audio #firefighter story #crab anon #🦀 anon

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twentyfivedegree · 5 months ago

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SIGH

Today is April 9, 2024. I decided to start writing this because I feel like everything around me is messed up especially me, I am very messed up. I don’t know, I’m currently a slave of myself, I can’t seem to overcome my own flesh, I lack patience, rationality and I am overwhelmed with unnecessary pride, A pride with no honor, I hate this version of myself but . . . I can’t seem to change, I am mentally weak, physically trash and emotionally insane. I hate this version of myself, I can’t take myself seriously.

I want a single person who I can lean on, a person who will listen, who will remember the small details about me and my stories. I feel so much invalidated around my friends and even in my family. Ah- Family, I love my mother and father, I want to give them a good life- well its not like they’re asking for it but they only wish for me to finish my degree have a job and then live with content, I myself would say that what they want to happen is simple, I just need to work hard right? But I found myself today, I am incapable of doing things. I don’t know, I would always say that this is because I lack passion, I don’t understand myself, I want to blame someone but who? I am very weak, weak-minded, I am hot-tempered person to anyone- no I think I lack rationality when it comes to things I don’t like doing.

I hate my brother so much, but there’s a part of me that would want us to be okay and be respectful with each other, but I guess we can’t, my hatred against him runs deep. He is the reason why I can’t do many things, I am still angry at him about something that happened years ago, when he accused me of using the tablet when in fact, I know myself that I didn’t do. My parents believed him and from then on, that fucker did not show respect to me anymore, I tried telling my mom about his behavior, but She didn’t do anything.

What I hate so much about my family’s belief is when they see these things like altercation with me and my brother as normal, they don’t understand that I am treated in a horrible way that it messed up my mind, cause to develop unlikely behaviors which is now in the present- is acting up and I cannot control anymore. I am beyond invalidated that there is a neglected rage in my heart, and I am wishing that someone will teach me and lead me the right thing to do.

I can’t control myself; I am wishing that someone will teach me control my neglected parts, my neglected child inside. I want to let everything out, I want them to understand the pain they’ve caused me, I did once and where do it get me? I end up acquiring heavier than burden- guilt. I just want to be heard, I just want respect, I would always think “ Is it because I don’t treat them with respect that I do not received it?” I hated the fact that the only way to express the pain inside me is through crying in a suppressing manner.

Now that I kept writing this, I realized, I am jealous of many things; I hated that I did not receive the attention and care I needed as the eldest child, as a girl, and as a daughter. But I cannot bring myself to hate my parents, I witness how they are doing their best to give us good life. I love my parents so much, but everything is painful. I am basically keeping everything up because of them. I am doing my best despite what state I am in my school so I can give them the grade they want if its not for them, I would really consider going away, far from the painful surrounding I am exposed right now.

There was a time when me and my mother had argument, I reach to the point that I can’t help but speak up or talk back to my mother because I want her to change some things that is toxic to be exercised in our household, but she would always receive it as an insult, disrespect and hateful. I would always be stressed over it, even at smallest thing my opinion is not taken as consideration, I hated it. I had an outburst. I chatted my father and asked him if I can just die, at then I fell asleep. I woke up because I was bombed with missed calls and my father, my loving father with his soothing voice, so worried about me talked to me about, he said something that strucked my core, he said that he is doing everything for me that I am someone he is value so much so how can I say something like that? I cried, I died inside, yet I saw my mother’s eyes that time it’s the eye that says I am good for nothing child full of drama. I died in my ways that day. I died because how I made my dad worried which is something I am always cautious with, reason why I can’t let everything out, and second, I died in most painful way- my mom and dad did not check on me or did after declaring that I want to die- how so? I remembered when my brother around pandemic, he started doing things and both my mom and dad supported him, bought him with what he needs and stuff- months after he declared that he is feeling depressed. I was there, I saw how my mom and dad panicked and did many things to help him, like takin him to the park for a walk, talking to him and at that time, my mother couldn’t stop worrying about him. I thought at that time “Ya’ll panicking over that not knowing your daughter (me) wants to die already”. But then when I declared I want to die- they didn’t do anything, they just left me drowning in these pool of emotions/behavior/thoughts like they always do.

One of the many things I want to correct my parents is when they would expect me to be something and yet they didn’t even teach it. “be mature”, “Be patient”, “don’t cuss”. “don’t lie”, “act like your age”, “don’t be a parasite.” And many more yet they don’t teach me, they are not being a role model, and they don’t give me the chance to be in a situation where I can start flocking my wings. Yet in the end, I am being scolded, degraded for not being able to be someone they want. I wish they can be a little bit gentle with their words because my world revolved around them and everything, they say has a big impact on me.

I’m tired now, I will stop here.

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anthonybialy · 1 year ago

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Buffalo Bills Keep Going As Is

Back-to-back-to-back-to-back wins tops even Tom Emanski. Fred McGriff thinks this is the team that gets results. A Buffalo Bills home playoff game seems both like a fitting result and improbable occurrence. The club embodied humanity while winning a fourth consecutive divisional title by not changing who they are for the regular finale. Accept underachieving during victory as the best possible result.

This is Sean McDermott’s team, all right. Winning while infuriating is a signature like Marv turning on faucets. Workers who sort-of get the job done are not going to alter their approach to finishing their assigned tasks now. It’d still be nice if they’d show up from the start of their shift in lieu of doing twice the work in half the time.

Figuring out where the end zone is and how clocks work would be productive uses of playoff preparation time. The first half’s end and second half’s start combined to be as productive as the time in between. Buffalo also scored zero points in the locker room. A coach’s dream felt like a real one where they slept while having no control over events.

I hope they’re spending this week seeing how Leonard Fournette’s catching skills are, too. Ronnie Harmon thinks James Cook’s drop was bad. I wish George Lucas weren’t correct about history rhyming. There was a James Cook glass, but he dropped it.

A punt returned for a touchdown just like McDermott planned proved to be the difference. Points count no matter how you get them and affect what happens next, which should assuage guilt about lack of productivity. That was some nice work by Deonte Harty, even though players need to stop celebrating before getting to the end zone. Not dropping the ball is like avoiding an accident despite driving while texting: you won’t get away with it forever.

Convoluted cheering offered a distraction until prime time. Trevor Lawrence finally inspires. Let’s all give to his foundation. A fourth down throw which still hasn’t landed reduced the magnitude of the league’s regular-season coda. But settling for seventh would’ve reflected a lack of ambition. The divisional winners spent much of the outing shaking a wild card mentality.

Making the tournament was not an excuse to look nonchalant. The Jaguars melting down into the new year removed a good deal of potential stress. But that was no time to coast. Will those presented with an opportunity react by seeking more or dodging it? A chance to win the division again was thrilling precisely because it’s simple. We still had to learn who gets to patronize the New Era Flagship Store. The home team’s fans had to travel back from Miami.

Finding a new way every game to keep results close is not the best approach to maintaining an interesting life. But the Bills weren’t about to change their routine of not having one. Unpredictability is predictable. Everyone has an exhausting relative who’ll tantrum over trivial matters; some of us have more than one. The particulars of any nasty outburst may differ, but the one consistency is that they’re lamentably bound to happen. Self-improvement means not being the same any longer, which may be a good outcome and is certainly a near impossibility.

Josh Allen strives to overcome Sean McDermott and Josh Allen. The single-handed hope doesn’t have to keep acting recklessly to prove something psychologically demented Hank Schrader-style. Foolishness doesn’t have to be included in the package. Presuming insane risks are intrinsic to a bold quarterback is like thinking rock stars live too intensely to live long, and meanwhile Keith Richards has had more birthdays than you.

A miscommunication with Gabe Davis is a tradition to abandon like spending Christmas wading in your contaminated gene pool. Getting Eli Apple an interception is the best way to avoid cockiness. Knowing he was out of position worse than Larry Brown just makes the attempt that much more regrettable. Don’t aim at the trash receptacle. This isn’t Kan-Jam.

Throw to Stefon Diggs instead. He and his quarterback occasionally act like they’re suddenly not soulmates. The lack of chemistry is particularly frustrating given that they’ve previously had the relationship to which all aspired. Watching them reunited like a Hallmark movie was satisfying even if they could’ve skipped anticipated drama.

Bounces go your way if fate’s on your side. Or maybe fate takes your side if you’re acting with effective aggression. After we’re done debating the universe’s nature, we can enjoy success from chaos. Turning “What a drag” into a compliment is the result of Trent Sherfield's Divine performance. A deflection going Buffalo’s way may mean existence’s sole purpose is not to crush us.

Doing as they please shows the Bills at their most successful. Defenders know the call and the offense makes it anyway. Daring them to stop you smirks at deception. Josh is going to dive leftward like he can see the televised line, so go ahead and try to shove back.

Griping about the 11th win is a unique way of maintaining high standards. Avoiding taking success for granted is a challenge for which we beg. Make sure to never grow tired of adding to a divisional champions hat collection. It’s remarkable how ordinary success has become despite this roster’s confounding tendency to complicate goals.

A playoff team that’s inspired an alarming lack of confidence finished as conference runner-up in spite of themselves. The best choice entering the playoffs is to make a deal to continue enjoying wins no matter how aggravatingly they may unfold. Regular practice creates routines. The Bills established one during the regular season that worked, at least in the end.

#Buffalo Bills #football #NFL #playoffs #AFC East #Josh Allen

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sporticus1234 · 4 years ago

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Catch Me if You Can-Laws of Attraction (Part 2) 🍋

Summary: After weeks of flirting, teasing, and close calls, Tessa is ready to take the plunge, but can Gabe overcome his own worse fears and join her?

Pairing: Gabe Ricci x Main Character (Tessa Michaels)

Link to my Master-List and Other works will be added once they have been re-edited and re-uploaded.

Catch up with Part 1 Here: Part 1

WARNING: The following story has a 🍋 rating, meaning there will be topics of

NSFW

Smut

Strong Language

By viewing of this work, you are acknowledging and consenting to the fact that you are 18+ years of age and can view such works.

Tagging: @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythomas05-blog @nishas-paradise @blainehellyes @suitfer @pixelnutrookie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @adiehardfan @panda9511 @curiousconch @weaving-in-words @mm2305 @thegreentwin

I love you all so much, and I will see you again soon!

_________________________

If you hesitate, opportunities will pass by you So open your heart and come out -Girls Generation, The Boys (Korean Ver.)

The hotel café the following morning was full of delicious, mouth-watering smells and buzzing conversations of the guests milling around, families excitedly planning for the day ahead or business associates discussing their upcoming ventures and other current events. In the back corner of the room next to the sheer curtains covering the early morning Boston sun, Gabe Ricci halfheartedly pokes his fork around the scrambled mess of eggs barely eaten in front of him, his head resting on a propped fist as his eyes struggle to stay open as a dull headache thumps in his head. He lifts his fork to take another bite of eggs, but his stomach lurches at the sight, and he drops the fork with a clatter. He reaches out to pour himself another cup of coffee, but he curses under his breath when he realizes the pot he ordered was empty. He tries to catch the attention of a passing waiter, but his eyes instead slide to a couple sitting a few tables away from him, their fingers laced together on the table as they share an intimate conversation punctuated by giggles and kisses across the other’s knuckles. The sight makes his stomach ache in guilt as the events of last night play like a never-ending repeat of a bad movie in his mind.

He knows there is no one else to blame; he is the one solely responsible for the shitty mess between him and Tessa. If he just gave her the obvious answer last night, he wouldn’t be sitting in the back corner on the verge of a hangover and close to passing out in his eggs. Instead, the two of them would be upstairs in his suite, her hair splayed out over one of the pillows as their limbs tangle together underneath the soft sheets draping over their naked bodies. Or, they would be eating breakfast in bed and watching the sun rise behind the towering skyscrapers as they share intimate little details about each other. Yet here he was, sitting down here and looking pathetically ridiculous as he stares a hole into his eggs like they held the answer to the question of why he was down here and not upstairs.

But Gabe already knows why he is sitting down here.

He is afraid that Tessa would reject him once things got serious.

Gabe Ricci, the man who stares down opposing attorneys and judges in a packed courtroom is afraid of something like rejection from a woman. The man who is confidently sure of himself and goes toe to toe with some of the greatest legal minds of the current day is afraid of being told “no.” The whole situation seems entirely laughable, and Gabe would completely understand if people saw it that way. But those people didn’t know about the one specific incident all those years ago that completely changed the course of his life and made him the way he is today.

Gabe considers himself to be an “all or nothing” person, devoting one hundred percent of himself to everything in his life, whether it was his job, himself, his relationships, and even his love life. It was his “all or nothing”, caring attitude that brought him to the door of the New York Public Defender’s office. Being a public defender was never going to be a smooth sailing job, but even with the obstacles in front of him, Gabe still defended his clients with everything he had. But at the end of the day, his “all or nothing” attitude was still not enough. He had little to no victories to back up his expertise and knowledge, and the passion he had for the legal field dwindled with every “guilty” verdict that felt like a swift punch to the gut. The workload was becoming overbearing with each passing year, and eventually, Gabe started questioning his own abilities and confidence. He found himself trapped in a never-ending nightmare with no chance of escape.

Even though his job was becoming a literal hell, he could always count on the one bright spot in his life at the time.

Katrina.

Katrina was everything Gabe hoped to find in a partner. She was kind, intelligent, caring. The two of them had an incredible whirlwind romance, and Gabe felt like he was walking on Cloud Nine when she was around. She was the one person who made everything feel better after a hard day. She was the one person who motivated him to push forward, encouraging him and giving him belief that one day, things would become better than what they were. She was the first person Gabe had met who he truly believed shared his same attitude of “all or nothing”, and their relationship grew more serious with each passing day. The future of their relationship came to a head one night in Central Park, where Gabe found himself on one knee in front of her with a glittering diamond ring in his hand, ready to fully go “all in” and spend the rest of his life with her. However, two little words made the intense romance they once shared fizzle out and leave his spirits firmly crushed. She rejected him in Central Park, and a week later, she moved out of his apartment and out of his life, the two of them unable to rekindle the romance they once shared despite their best efforts.

The pain of her rejection made him a closed-off shell of his former self. He never socialized after work or on the weekends unless he absolutely had to, and if he did, he hardly spoke to anyone unless the situation called for it. His work continued to suffer as he couldn’t find the heart and motivation to defend his clients as well as he knew he could. But one day after a trial, Sadie McGraw cornered him and offered him a second chance, a chance to start over and become the lawyer she knew he could become. With her help and guidance, Gabe slowly started rediscovering himself as a lawyer. The power she had given him combined with his knowledge and expertise pulled in big wins for the firm and moved him up towards the top ranks of McGraw Byrne. He was rediscovering his passion for the legal field and helping others. People began to congratulate him on his wins and praise his incredible devotion to the firm.

While he wouldn’t argue his devotion to the job, it wasn’t the sole reason he stayed long nights or came to work early in the morning. Every time he went back to his apartment after work, the sliver of happiness he felt and the boisterous conversations of the office became replaced by dreaded loneliness and cold quietness. The solitary confines of his apartment were a constant, mocking reminder of what he didn’t have anymore, a reminder of her rejection all those years ago. The office became a safe space of sorts for him, and he dreaded leaving its comfort. With the company’s generosity, Gabe secured a new, better apartment where he could make new memories and not be constantly reminded of bitter ones. The one thing the company couldn’t help him with was finding the one person who made him feel even a tenth of what Katrina made him feel. He never shied away from going out on dates as he attempted to move on with his life, but no one understood his passion, commitment, and devotion the way Katrina did. Plenty of people managed to catch his attention, but no one came close enough to keep it.

Until Tessa walked through the doors.

Gabe had discovered her the same way Sadie did, and he knew she would be a perfect addition to McGraw Byrne when Sadie opened up spots on the team. He had firsthand knowledge of her legal expertise, and he knew she fully devoted herself to her clients and used the knowledge she continued to learn in order to help them. However, while she managed to capture his attention, she was the only one who managed to keep it. She is incredibly beautiful; there was no denying that fact. But seeing her in action shined a completely different light on her. She goes above and beyond for her clients, and she willingly and gladly steps up and takes initiative when needed. She isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with some of the best attorneys in the state. Passion flows out of her like a waterfall, and it shows in her work. She is quick-witted and sharp, her eyes and mind never missing a single detail, and Gabe was not only impressed, but insanely captivated by her.

He initially didn’t think much of their constant flirting in the office or their dinner outings together, especially since Tessa flirted with the fireman for her eviction case. He was a little jealous she flirted with someone else, but since her flirting charmed the fireman into giving her more information than needed, she pulled in a massive win for the firm, and Gabe simply brushed it off and chalked up the flirting as part of her charm. It wasn’t until the cancelled business dinner that Gabe realized what was between them was more than just their typical flirting. He was catching real feelings for her, no matter how much he tried to deny it. While he did acknowledge his feelings for her, his heart was still too guarded and afraid to act on them. Tessa was the first girl he had serious feelings for since Katrina left him. He didn’t know if Tessa even felt the same way he did, nor did he know if he would be able to repair it again if his relationship with Tessa ended the same way like Katrina.

But deep down in his gut, he knew that Tessa was different from Katrina. It was a feeling he couldn’t put a logical reason on, but a gut feeling, one that you just know is true even if you couldn’t explain it. She was the first person Gabe felt genuinely happy with in a long time. Gabe not only believed in a future with her, he could also picture it. Everything he pictured and every interaction they have together doesn’t feel awkward or forced. It feels natural and…right. Aside from that, Tessa showed time and time again that she wants to be with him. If she didn’t, she would’ve turned down every invitation he gave her, and she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to make sure they spend a few moments alone together whenever they can. Tessa already made her feelings about him clear last night, and she was ready to risk the opportunity at becoming partner at one of the country’s premier law firms. She was more than willing to risk it if it meant having him.

Could he really do the same and risk his comfort for her?

_________________________

The morning sun spills into the living room of the hotel suite as the remains of Tessa’s in-room breakfast lay scattered across the coffee table. A re-run of celebrity chef Everett Flynt’s new TV show plays in the background as she busies herself in the bathroom, putting on the last touches of preparations for the day ahead. Once satisfied with her appearance, she pads back out into the bedroom and opens the closet to find an outfit for the day. When her fingers graze the powder blue dress she wore to the cocktail party last night, her task becomes forgotten as her mind flashes back to the night before, her stomach aching at the bitter taste of the memory.

The weekend conference had started off so well with everyone laughing and joking like the best of friends. The cocktail party went off without a hitch, and she managed to score some huge connections with distinguished judges and other lawyers. Everything about the weekend was absolutely perfect, until she decided to stick around and have a late-night snack and drink with Gabe and confessed her harbored feelings toward him. Looking back, the idea to share them was not one of her finer moments; she was certain Gabe and her would take the next steps of their relationship after confessing their feelings for each other, but instead, Gabe did the same thing he always does when they get close to crossing a line. He quickly doused the growing flame and pushed her away once again.

She grabs an outfit from the closet and starts getting dressed, her eyes glancing over at her bed and seeing a few jet-black streaks on the pillowcase, a reminder of what happened last night after she walked away from him. But it also reminds her she can’t keep running back to him and giving him chance after chance. As much as it hurts to walk away from him and what they potentially could have, she knows deep down she will be better off in the long run for doing so. She couldn’t open her heart and let someone inside only to have him lock her out of his. It was Gabe’s turn to return the favor, and this time, his words were no longer going to be enough. It was time for his actions to match his words and feelings, and until they did, Tessa has to move forward with her life.

She finishes getting dressed and fixes the loose strands of hair that got out of place. She glances at the alarm clock on her nightstand, seeing it is still too early for the company cars to come take them back to New York. Just as she was about to lounge on the couch and distract herself with Everett Flynt’s TV show, a loud knock reverberates through the space.

It couldn’t be…could it?

Mind curious, she makes her way over to the door and peeks out of the peephole, her stomach flipping circles as her pulse quickens at the sight of Gabe standing right behind the door. She takes a deep breath and opens the door to see him standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets and his feet shuffling nervously. His actions make her more nervous than excited; Gabe normally acts so confident and sure of himself, and to see him act completely not himself makes tension creep into her thoughts.

“Hi…” Gabe says with a rare, bashful smile as he flicks his eyes down to his shoes. “Can we…” he rubs the back of his neck, “can we talk?”

Seeing him in front of her makes her feel the sting of his rejection all over again, and she has half a mind to slam the door in his face and finally give him a taste of how it feels to be rejected. But when he lifts his eyes towards her, her heart twinges in sympathy. The trademark, mischievous twinkle in his eye is no longer there, and his shoulders look like they’re carrying the weight of the world on them.

“Please…” he quietly pleads.

He’s making the effort you wanted him to make she reminds herself. With a sigh, she gives him a small, almost inscrutable nod, and Gabe flashes her a soft, grateful smile as he shuffles past her, their arms brushing against each other. Tessa tries to force down the warm prick she felt as she shuts the door behind him and follows him to the living room, making sure to keep plenty of space between them, knowing that if she didn’t, she would never get the answers to her questions. Gabe takes a look around the room, taking in the half-eaten breakfast and the way she stands with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, the space between them feeling like a chasm as guilt blooms in his chest again. The air was filling with cold tension, and Gabe awkwardly clears his throat, eyes darting around to find something to break the quiet spell.

His eyes land on the TV, and he jumps at the opportunity it presents. “Taste of the World? Isn’t this the episode where Everett runs away from the show and the culinary producer he obviously has feelings for?”

“Seems fitting, doesn’t it?” Tessa blurts out with a humorless guffaw. Gabe flinches at the sting of her words, and she squeezes her eyes shut in regret, cursing at herself under her breath. As upset as she is, Gabe made the first move. The least she could do is hear him out. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I didn’t…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Gabe cuts in. “I deserve that and much more.” He takes a step closer to her, and when she doesn’t back up, he continues. “In any case, you have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.”

“Maybe it is my fault,” Tessa concedes. “I was being too pushy and trying to force an answer out of you that you clearly weren’t ready to tell me.” She uncrosses her arms and drops them back to her sides, a sign that Gabe takes as a good one.

“You weren’t being pushy, Tessa. You were only being honest with me, and no one should ever be blamed for being honest. And you’re right. The show is fitting considering I’m the one who keeps running away when it’s the last thing I want to do.”

The harsh expression on her face softens into mild surprise. Was he fixing to tell her the real reason he keeps running away? “Gabe, all I want to know is why do you keep running when it’s clear that you and I both want this?”

Gabe swallows the lump in his throat, the memory of her rejection rearing its ugly head again. “Because that’s exactly what she did.”

Tessa furrows her brows. “Who’s she?”

“Katrina.”

“Who’s Katrina?” After a long pause, the lightbulb goes off in her head, and her eyes widen in recognition. “Oh…” Her mind goes back to the night of the business dinner and the far-off look Gabe had in his eyes at her question of commitment.

“Even in this city?” she asks him in pure surprise. “You’ve really never found someone who’s as all-in as you are?”

Gabe looks across the glittering skyline of New York. “I thought I had, once…” he turns his attention back to her, and Tessa can see the unspoken memory fade from his eyes, “but that was a long time ago. And as it turns out, I was wrong about her.”

“How…” she swallows hard, her heart aching in sympathy for him. “How bad was it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Gabe scratches his stubbled chin and lets out a humorless, bitter chuckle. “Let’s just say I can’t get a refund on the ring anymore.”

Her eyes widen into the size of saucers, and her jaw drops open in complete shock. His actions and words suddenly became much more understandable. It explained why Gabe kept running away and avoided crossing the line between playful flirting and serious romance. He thought if he didn’t cross those lines and reject her first, she was going to be the one to do it eventually. He refused to act on his feelings because the last time he did, Katrina rejected his proposal and left him. Gabe didn’t build the walls around his heart to keep her out. He built them because he was afraid history was going to repeat itself, and he chose to live in his own little bubble of comfort instead of taking another risk, and Tessa couldn’t blame him one bit for it.

“I’m really sorry she did that to you, Gabe.” Her feet move closer to him, the space becoming smaller. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he brushes off. “I’ve moved on from it. In any case, her rejection changed my life for the better. If she didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be at McGraw Byrne in the first place, and I never would’ve met you.”

Tessa fidgets with her ring. “Gabe…” she begins, but quickly trails off.

“What?” he asks her. “You know you can say or tell me anything right?”

“I know, but…” she takes another deep breath, forcing herself to say what she was thinking. “Do you really have feelings for me?”

“Absolutely,” Gabe says, no hesitation in his voice. It makes her heart flutter a bit.

“Have I given you any reason to doubt my feelings for you?”

“No.”

“So even knowing all that, you still choose to run away,” she says matter-of-factly.

Gabe flinches at her words, tucking his gaze away from her. “Yes.”

“Then you haven’t moved on. Not entirely at least.”

Gabe’s eyes snap over to hers as he furrows his brows. “What?”

Tessa sighs. “Look Gabe. You’re absolutely right. If Katrina hadn’t rejected your proposal, we never would’ve crossed paths in a hundred years. But…”

“But what?”

“You still let what she did control you,” Tessa points out. “You say that you’ve moved on, but have you really? I mean, just take a look at what happened last night. The minute we started talking about getting serious, you quickly pushed me away and ran. You did the same thing in Vegas, and you did the same thing at the business dinner too.”

Gabe runs his hand through his hair. “I know I did, and I will always regret my actions. But I’m willing to give us a chance if you still want that. I like you so much, Tessa, and I know the two of us have something special that is worth so much more than a partnership or my insecurities.”

She eyes him curiously. “And what happens if I do give you a chance, Gabe? Are you going to run again?”

“Absolutely not,” Gabe says firmly, his deep tone making her skin jump in shock. “I’m done running away, Tessa. For good.”

Butterflies flood her stomach as her heart swells at his words, but the sensations only make her feel more guilty for what she was about to say. “Gabe, you’re saying all the right words, and I want to believe them so badly. I really do. But…”

The hopeful expression on his face slowly fades as icy dread floods his veins. “But you can’t?”

Tessa nods dejectedly. “I’m sorry, Gabe. But until you actually show me instead of telling me that you really are done running, and that you really want there to be an ‘us’, we can’t…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Gabe takes two quick strides over to her, the space between them shrinking as he gently cups her cheeks in his hands. His thumbs run over her cheekbones, and she instinctively submits to his touch, her mind already forgetting its previous thoughts and focusing solely on the soft, tender caress of his thumbs. She can smell the sharp and heady scent of his cologne, the one that makes her want to bury her face in his chest and breathe him in. She can see each individual eyelash and the sparkling mixture of nerves and pure determination in his eyes. The little puffs of breath from his lips tickle her skin, and her blood rushes and pounds in her ears as she finds herself slipping into his warm, chocolate orbs.

“What…what are you doing?” she asks over the sound of her heart thundering in her chest.

He brings their faces closer together, only centimeters between them. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

_________________________

The walls Gabe spent years hiding his heart behind start to crumble as he closes the last inch of space between them. He tentatively presses his lips against hers, a spark of electricity racing through her that makes her scalp prickle. The initial shock of his kiss makes her tense up, a small little whimper coming from her lips, but soon, she finds herself melting into the kiss when Gabe presses his lips firmer to hers. His lips feel like velvet, moving slowly and sensually against hers as her eyes flutter close and her body surrenders to his dizzying kiss. Her arms slide up around his shoulders and tease the little hairs on the back of his neck while he grips her waist and pulls her closer to him, his hand snaking up underneath her shirt and lightly pressing into the bare skin of her lower back. A rush of warmth spreads throughout her body from his touch, and Tessa lets out a small little moan when Gabe gently nibbles on her bottom lip and breaks the kiss. Their foreheads touch together, their breaths mixing as all their unspoken feelings and desires pass between them in this silent, intimate moment.

She shyly bites her lip and looks up at him through her lashes only to see him smiling back down at her, his eyes a swirling cocktail of happy relief and fiery desire. Since growing closer to him, she often caught herself wondering when their first kiss was going to happen and what it would be like, and she would gladly admit the real thing was so much better than her imagination and thoughts. It was full of sensual desire, yet sweet tenderness. It was warm and comforting, yet intoxicating and thrilling. It was gentle, yet confident and sure. It was a kiss full of everything she associated with the man holding her in his arms.

“Now do you believe me?” he asks her as he nuzzles his nose with hers. His voice is laced with his signature cockiness, but Tessa detects a slight hint of worry underneath it.

“I think I need a little more convincing than that.” She was more than convinced Gabe meant what he said earlier, but she found some fun in teasing him a little longer. She considers it playful revenge for making her wait all this time for him to finally acknowledge his feelings.

A low groan vibrates in his throat at the floodgate Tessa’s words opens up inside him, and both of them know there is no going back after this. The tip of his tongue darts out and silkily caresses his lower lip as his eyes darken more, the passion and desire he kept locked away and hidden now flowing through his veins and taking control of his thoughts and actions. Tessa shudders at the sound of his groan and the carnal look in his eye, her nerves switching to high alert as the air buzzes with excitement. His hands snake around her waist and down to her ass, pulling her hard against him and relishing in the feel of her body against his. His firm, hard bulge presses into the apex of her thighs, and she feels it grow harder with each passing second. She subtly grinds her hips into the hardness, a pleasant rush of heat pooling between her legs as soft groans fill the surrounding air.

All of his previous fears and doubts dash out of his mind as he firmly crushes his lips to hers in a searing, heated kiss, molding and shaping her lips to his every whim and wish. Her knees wobble at the sudden assault, but his strong arms wrapped around her waist hold her up securely as the air sparks like a colorful firework and showers them in a bright rainbow of light. Her body molds perfectly into his, like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly in the picture. Her mind goes dizzy with delight as her hands run over his clothed chest and come to rest on his sculpted shoulders. He shifts his hips ever so slightly, and the friction makes Tessa groan in pleasant surprise. Gabe takes advantage and lightly teases his tongue with hers as the two of them deepen the kiss. When their lungs scream for much-needed air, he sinks his teeth into her bottom lip and tugs it back, breaking the kiss and leaving them gasping for air.

“Convincing…enough for…you?” he asks her. “Or do…you need a…another sign?”

Her fingers draw lazy heart-shapes over his own heart, feeling it thunder beneath her touch. “I think…I need a little…more.”

She coquettishly flutters her eyelashes and delicately pulls her lower lip between her teeth. The sight makes his cock twitch and punch against the tight confines of his pants, needy and begging for some type of relief, preferably from her. He wraps his fingers around her wrist, halting her movements. Their eyes lock on each other, and slowly, Gabe moves her hand down his torso. She feels the muscles of his stomach subtly flexing and tightening in anticipation, even through the layers of fabric between them. He reaches his belt buckle and stops the movement, his eyes and action asking her the question she already knows the answer to. She gives him a nod, excitement filling up her stomach and making the butterflies flutter. She holds her breath as Gabe guides her hand past his belt buckle, the air becoming thick with anticipation. When her hand finally brushes over his bulge and feels it twitch, the air rushes out of her. Her finger teasingly traces the outline of his bulge, and Gabe sucks in a sharp breath. When she cups him through his pants, the muscles in his jaw tick, head lolling back with a hiss as he surrenders to the sensation of her gentle squeezes.

She runs her palm up and down over his bulge, feeling his cock grow harder and punch painfully against his zipper. With another firmer squeeze of his bulge, the chain holding him back breaks, and with a groan that sounds almost like a growl, their lips find each other again, the built-up passion and desire flowing unrestrained between them as their hands wander and roam over each other’s bodies. Their kisses break momentarily as Gabe’s sweater is pulled off his body and Tessa’s top goes flying across the room. Her fingers try to unbutton his shirt, but when his lips trail down across her jaw and down to the sensitive skin of her neck, she momentarily says “fuck it” and rips open his shirt, the buttons flying across the room and ricocheting off the walls and freeing his naked chest to her greedy fingers. He slides the shirt off his body and tosses it with a groan, feeling more turned on than angry at her action. His lips trail back up across her jaw and find her lips again, their tongues dancing together as the kiss deepens and becomes even more erotic and sensual. Her hands caress over his naked torso, the memory of every dip, ridge, and flex of his muscles becoming firmly ingrained in her mind.

Fantasies from long ago are now becoming real. Any semblance of time and reality escapes them. All that mattered is this moment between them. A moment neither of them wants to end. Ever.

“Gabe…” she mumbles between kisses. “You. Bedroom. Now.” Her fingers slide down his abs until they reach the sensitive sliver of skin hidden just behind the waistband of his pants. When shuddering goosebumps flare up over his skin, he grabs her wrist and halts her movement.

“Wait…” Gabe groans after giving her another kiss. “Are you sure…you want to do this? Because once we start…I don’t ever want it to end.”

The desire and longing in his voice is unmistakable. “Wh…what?”

“I just…” Gabe shakes his head, trying to get his words right. “I don’t want you to do anything or commit to anything you might regret later on,” he tells her. “I want this to happen so much. You know how bad I want you right now, but I understand completely if you don’t want—"

She tugs him forward by his belt and places a hard, chaste kiss to his lips, effectively cutting off his rambling spell. “Gabe, I wouldn’t have given you my keycard if I didn’t want this to happen.” She kisses the tip of his chin, the stubble scratching her lips. “I want this, Gabe.” She presses a kiss on his chest, right over his heart, and the action takes his breath away. “I want you. Only you.”

His grin grows bigger at her admission. “You’re the only one I want too,” he replies, trailing his finger lightly across her jaw that has her shivering in joy.

Her hands slide back up his torso and wind around his neck, deviousness flashing in her eyes. She hops up and wraps her legs around his waist, his strong arms flexing and catching her without missing a single beat. “Then take me into the bedroom and prove it, Ricci.”

He gives her a smoldering look, and with another moan, his lips kiss the hollow of her throat and trail over to her collarbone, his hands squeezing her ass teasingly and eliciting a gasp from her. She rolls her head back and submits to his scorching kisses and kitten bites on her neck as he makes the short journey into the bedroom. He pulls his lips away from her, and with a wolfish grin and a devilish wink, he tosses her onto the giant bed. Tessa senses the shift in dynamic between them at the sudden, but very much wanted, powerful surge of dominance from him. Seeing him confidently take charge was such a turn-on for her and makes warm tendrils coil and tighten in her core. Gabe quickly toes off his shoes while she sheds her shorts and playfully tosses them in his direction with a giggle. He chuckles at her playfulness and snatches them out of the air. When he turns his attention back to her, her shorts slip out of his grasp as his eyes widen in surprise, his cock twitching in extreme pleasure and appreciation at the sight in front of him.

“Fucking. Hell.” He groans, voice gravelly and filled with lust.

His hand reaches down and palms his cock as he drinks in Tessa kneeling in the middle of the bed, wearing nothing except her lacy plunge bra and matching panties as her hair falls over one of her eyes. The sight was so much hotter than the one in his fantasies, and he couldn’t wait to rip away the thin fabric and fully see what she was hiding beneath it. She beckons him with a manicured finger, and with the invitation, Gabe hurriedly climbs onto the bed and drapes his hard body overs hers as he kisses her relentlessly. Her peaked nipples brush up against his chest through the tight confines of her bra, pulsing and begging for his attention. He shifts his weight over to one side, propping himself on his forearm as Tessa wraps her arms around his neck. His other hand slides up her side and finds her breast; Gabe softly squeezes and massages it, his thumb and index finger teasing her nipple through the fabric and making it tight with pressure. A jolt of pleasure surges through her when Gabe pinches her nipple, a rush of electricity traveling through her and making her toes curl.

Her hand slides down and pushes on his shoulder, the weight and control shifting as Gabe falls to his back and Tessa drapes her legs over him to straddle his hips, feeling his hard bulge press against her center. She braces herself on the solid planes of his chest, feeling his heartbeat race wildly and his eyes burning holes into her skin as she grinds her hips against him, a smirk fighting its way onto her face as his soft moans and groans fill the room like a symphony and wrap around her like a blanket. Gabe flutters his eyes closed, succumbing to the incredible sensation of her hips moving over his cock. While he normally is the one to take control and dominate in the bedroom, seeing her on top of him, her hips giving him just the right amount of agonizing friction, and being completely at her mercy is the sexiest thing he has ever seen.

When he opens his eyes again, Tessa sees them glazed over with pure lust and unbridled attraction for her, the magnetic energy washing over both of them. “Goddamn…” he hoarsely whispers, the lust in his voice making tingles spiral down her spine.

“See something you like?” she coyly asks him.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t like this.” His fingers toy with the lacy waistband of her panties, occasionally dipping underneath and teasing the sensitive skin before caressing down her thighs. “I fucking love it. I think you look…oh shit…” his train of thought trails off as she shifts her hips again, sending another wave of bliss washing over him. “I think you look so goddamn sexy.”

The compliment makes liquid heat pool in her core as the air floods with heated desire and erotic passion. She lightly digs her fingernails into his solid chest, seeing the muscles flex before scratching down his torso, sending another shudder through him. “Mmm…having thoughts about me, are you?”

Gabe cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, I have plenty of thoughts about you. All of them dirty.” His hands stop their teasing caresses and travel up her thighs. “You in my bed begging for me.” His fingers graze over her panties, pulling back the waistband and letting it go with a light snap that makes her gasp. “You wet and pressed up against the wall in my shower.” His hands ghost up her sides until they reach her breasts. “You bent over my desk in my office.” He cups her breasts and flicks the peaked nipples straining underneath the fabric. “You on top just like this, riding me. Hard.”

The images flash through her mind, and the muscles in her core tighten in excitement at the possibility of making all of his fantasies come true. “Who knew Gabe Ricci had such dirty thoughts, or that he likes being controlled,” she tells him as her back arches and her chest pushes further into his massaging hands.

One of his hands snakes up behind her back and expertly undoes the clasp on her bra before carelessly tossing it across the room. “Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re in control.”

She arches an eyebrow at the challenge in his tone. Her hands wrap around his wrists, and with a flash of devious intent, she pins his wrists into the mattress above his head, her breasts hovering teasingly over him, just far enough out of his reach. “Aren’t I though?” she grinds against him again, the friction making their skin hot.

The tip of his tongue darts out and silkily swipes over his lips, her eyes transfixing on the movement. The slight distraction is just enough for Gabe to flip her over and pin her underneath him again. The loose tendrils of his hair cover his eyes, a few strands plastered to his slick forehead, giving him a wild and untamed look, and the look makes her squirm as the muscles in her core tighten. “Told you I was in control,” he shoots back. He dips his head down and teasingly kisses her lips, pulling away before she could deepen it. He guides her arms up and pins them above her head. “Keep them there,” he commands.

“What if I don’t?” she asks him. “What are you going to do about it?”

Gabe groans. “Let’s just say that I reward good behavior and punish bad behavior.” He smirks at her. “But something tells me you enjoy punishments far too much, so I guess I’ll have to come up with something a little different.”

His lips attach to the warm pulse point of her neck, and Tessa sinks into the mattress like it is a warm pool of blissful pleasure. He kisses down the muscle of her neck before licking a wet stripe back up the length of it and giving it little nips and bites as he trails back down. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone until he reaches the hollow of her throat. The tip of his tongue traces the outline before placing a kiss directly in the middle of it, and Tessa sucks in a sharp breath. He shifts his body downward as his kisses travel across her chest and down to her breast. He kisses and slowly licks wet circles around her breast, leaving no inch of skin untouched as he comes closer and closer to her nipple with each circle, and Tessa groans at his methodical torture as her nipples throb in pleasure. When he places a kiss directly on her peaked nipple, the air rushes out of her in a moan that sends vibrations flooding through his veins and directly to his cock.

He draws her nipple between his lips and sucks on it while his other hand kneads and molds her other breast, giving her the relief she has been craving from him. He alternates his movements, from sucking on her nipple to giving it gentle little nips and swirls of his tongue while his fingers tug and roll her other nipple. He sharply bites down on her nipple and soothes the sting with his tongue, and Tessa arches hard off the bed at the sweet torture. He shifts his body again as he releases the nipple from his mouth and kisses his way over to her other breast. He gives it the same agonizing torture as the other until both are even more swollen and throbbing. Her hands clench into fists as her eyes squeeze shut, fighting the urge to touch him as every little nip and suck makes her squirm in pleasure.

The tip of his tongue trails down through the valley between her breasts, the action sending blood rushing through her body and making heat pool in her core. As much as she tries to fight it, Tessa gives into the urge to move her hand, and she reaches out and threads her fingers in his dark, soft hair. Immediately, his hand wraps around her wrist and pins it back above her head, and she giggles in spite of herself. He glances up at her through his lashes, and Tessa can see the raw power in them. He kisses his way back up, tongue darting out briefly to flick over her nipples again, and over the hollow of her throat. He softly nips at the center of her neck and traces her jaw with teasing breaths until she feels his hot breath on the shell of her ear, goosebumps flaring up over her skin.

“And you were doing so well,” Gabe murmurs in her ear as he traces the shell of her ear with his tongue.

“You know I don’t do well following the rules.”

He nips at her earlobe. “Then I’m going to make you follow the rules.” He swings his leg over her and climbs out of the bed, her body already missing his warmth. “Don’t move,” he commands. “I’ll be right back.”

He pads out of the room, leaving Tessa lying there a building mess of excitement and nervousness. She hears Gabe mutter a curse before the sound of the TV is cut off, and she giggles at the absurdity of it. She strains her ears to hear anything else, but the only sounds she can make out are soft rustling of fabric and little clinks like glass. After a few more moments that felt like an eternity, Gabe knocks on the frame of the door, and she shifts up onto her elbows to see him standing there, his lips kinked to the side in a smirk and devilish intentions dancing in his eyes. He holds up his hands, and Tessa sees a glass filled with ice cubes in one hand and the belt to the complimentary bathrobe in the other. The thought of what Gabe was planning to do to her with those two items has her quivering in delight.

“I hope you’re ready, Tessa,” Gabe says. “Because we’re going to have some fun.”

_________________________

A/N

So hello everyone! I know this took a lot longer than anticipated, but unfortunately, life decided to throw a curveball at me recently, so I am very sorry for the delay.

For those who might guess, when I finished the 2nd part, it again turned into another 15k mess, so you all will be getting a Part 3 shortly, where we’ll go into even more of some smutty goodness and some fluffy pillow talk.

I hope you all really enjoy it as much as you did for part 1, and I will see you all soon for the finale!

Second chance tagging in case Tumblr becomes Tumbroke again: @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythadon @nishas-paradise @blainehellyes @suitfer @pixelnutrookie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @adiehardfan @panda9584 @curiousconch @weaving-in-words @mm2305 @thegreentwin

#laws of attraction #choices laws of attraction #gabe ricci x mc #gabe x mc #ns*fw #n*fw

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blindedguilt-archived · 2 years ago

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🧑‍🤝‍🧑💜💧🤝⛔🌈☀️👔☕🩹💀💬🤫(either)😨(also either)❌🚫 |[I'd have sent some others but...]|

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 - Family by choice/Found Family 💜 - Friendship 💧 - Friends Due to Traumatic Experiences 🤝 - Coworkers ⛔ - Reluctant Friends 🌈 - Developing Friendship ☀️ - Friends of Circumstance

👔 - Strangers Working Together ☕ - One Muse Works in Service to the Other 🩹 - Friends Forced to Work Against Each Other 💀 - Enemies 💬 - Enemies Because of Conflicting Ideologies 🤫(either) - One Muse is Secretly an Enemy/Traitor to the Other 😨(also either) - One Muse is Using the Other for Their Benefit ❌ - Guilty by Association 🚫 - Friends to Enemies

//BUT WHAT?

//Show me. Show me now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. No-

//OKAY BUT YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS honestly like //I bless 1.3 everyday for the chance to explore a solid enemy dynamic between these two because *deadass*,,, they've had it all there? Both closely or equally matched in strength, having conflicting ideologies and DEFINITELY having their moments where that divide could have resulted in a spat if leonard wasn't such a fuckin coward shaking in his boots during the garrison, but the fact OF Leonard's cowardice and guilt resulting in that and Caim not,,, being completely batshit insane, not to mention that the stakes are high enough (The end of the world) that they're really mostly just forced to get along till that's over at worst and develop some kinda small bond of comradery and/or friendship??? over it at best is great, I'll def get into that later but then 1.3 kinda comes along and asks

//What if they DIDN'T have those things holding them back? Leonard isn't made a coward by a wish to die and his extreme sense of guilt. Whatever sense that kept Caim from going COMPLETELY batshit resulted in him losing all sense completely (albeit, gradually). That, AND not only is the world no longer faced with a threat that affects both of them in the sense they need to come together, but challenges their ideologies and philosophies on life (Particularly the Pacifism vs. Warmongering aspects of it) that causes them to split completely. Set that up with the fact that (Later), they both become similarly/equally matched at a completely insane level virtue of dragon's blood, and (maybe throwing arioch into the mix as an assist trophy, though she deserves FAR more) we have ourselves literally the most metal fucking enemies ever

//... Which forever makes me sad we didn't get to see a showdown with them in 1.3. Granted, the Arioch shit was fan-fucking-tastic, I couldn't have asked for a better alternative way for him to go out, but... *Sigh* ... That's where we come in though!! We gotta write either an alternative take where they can actually showdown or like a small thing before then where they can spat briefly (? But is there even really stopping them? XD) again and match each other's strength where they're both cracked up on that blood because damn......

//That said, at the same time I really do wonder what that proper enemy dynamic would look like between them in DOD1, but that begs the question - Sure, if it comes down to a fight we all know that Caim is the last one to back down, but that begs the question - What's there to overcome Leonard's grief and cowardice and uh,,, the concept of the entire world ending to get him properly mad at Caim?

//.... Iunno. Probably Seere. XD

//Circling back, their opposite contrasting natures ALSO makes their friendship bond extremely sweet and heartwarming in a sense, both in the vein of Caim's "Guess I care about this slow dumb sack of shit now, STOP ADMIRING THE FLOWERS AND HURRY IT UP ASSHOLE" and Leonard's "He's like an angry little brother if he was sent from hell. calm down please, where the hell are you even getting all that energy? my back hurts, i want to go home"

//Of course, they have their own multitude of reasons why they wouldn't dare actively show anything that could tip off the small part that's kinda warmed up to them, though they both show it in the smallest and most subtle of ways that I feel neither would really notice in most cases, though if it had stopped happening for one reason or another they may just sit and realise how unnatural or otherwise unecessary that kind action really was, in a sense

//I like to think it's a small part of their contrasting natures they both secretly find comforting or,,,, "enjoyable"??? but not quite or even have slight envy for about the other, Caim's "I do what I want and bet you my left nut I won't care about the consequences" attitude contrasting Leonard's repression and perhaps Leonard's peaceful, somewhat hopelessly optimistic "I wish we just lived in the kind of world we didn't have to fight and deal with all this death and misery" maybe bringing Caim back to that simpler time when the broad, general view of the world really was just that for him

//Of course, it's the main thing they hate about each other, especially at it's worst - Caim's willingness and eagerness to kill and harm a bunch of children who, in one sense are innocent, but in the other provoke a certain desire in the both of them, is as shocking and infuriating to Leonard as Leonard's terror and repulsion at the same thought is to Caim which is why Leonard's Regret is literally one of the most PERFECT ally chapters in showcasing their different characters still, as far as that kind of "brother-in-arms affection" runs between the both of them, I like to think they have a certain vicarious envy in regard to those same facets.

#voicelesshatred #||Reply||:Bri #{/i went off here oops dsghdfkjhfdj}#{/Honestly tho; I fucking *adore* talking about these two SO much so thank yoouuuuu~}#{/Having played through Ending A today and realising how fucking *necessary* it was to use allies; even at level 80; made me think about}#{/their dynamic again}#{/STILL THOUGH. I WANT TO SEE THE OTHERS.}#{/PLEASE.}

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thompsborn · 4 years ago

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Can i please get “I know hurts, but you have to stay awake, okay?” With hurt Peter and a really worried Harley 💙💙

(read on ao3)

He knows it’s part of the job.

It’s what happens, when someone’s a crime fighting superhero, or an Avenger, or an Avenger in Training, or whatever it is that people want to call it. He knows that the danger comes with it. He’s known for a long time, would be naive to ever try and believe otherwise.

But he’s never been this close to it before.

“Oh god,” Harley says—his voice is shaking almost as badly as his hands are, where he’s got them hovering uselessly. “Oh my god.”

The fight had been close to the tower, is the thing—as in, only a block or two away. When the alarm had gone off in the lab, none of them had been prepared for it, but then Friday had said something including the words, “Green Goblin,” and, “Bombs,” and, “Fire,” and that was all that had mattered, Tony and Peter both suiting up right as Friday tacked on the fact that it seemed to be a team up, that Gobby had apparently brought along some friends.

Harley sometimes thinks about it. Joining them, in a suit that he made a long time ago, that he works on and upgrades as if he’s got plans for what it’ll be for. He thinks about stepping into it and flying off to help them out, but he isn’t ready for it yet. For now, he still works long distance to help out—stays on the comms, gets in contact with first responders, helps use Friday’s scanners and any other tech in the lab to help him get an eye on what’s going on, just to let the team know more, to help out however he can from where he is.

Today, he almost used the suit.

And he would have—if Peter hadn’t been thrown through the window instead.

“We’ve got this,” Tony tells him, sounding out of breath and angry, worry tinging the ends of his words, as he knocks Green Goblin out of the way in order to prevent him from following Peter into the lab through the window. Harley wonders if they really have it at all, but can’t bring himself to ask. “Is Peter alright?”

“I don’t know,” Harley answers honestly, a waver to his tone. The reason he was about to use his own stupid suit is because Gobby’s been targeting Peter the whole fight, like he’s got a personal bone to pick, a grudge to settle. And Peter—the strongest, most capable person Harley has ever met—had stated that he wasn’t going to hurt Gobby, that he wasn’t going to fight back. That he was going to take it.

Well, he took it. He took a lot.

Gingerly, Harley reaches up, peeling Peter’s mask up, up, up, until it’s off completely. He winces at the blood crusted under his crooked nose and dripping from his busted lip, but sighs in relief when bleary brown eyes blink at him. “Hey,” he murmurs. “How’re you feelin’?”

Peter inhales sharply, and lets the air out with a low whine of pain. Harley can’t blame him in the slightest—there’s more rips and tears in his suit now than there are in the shredded remains of his homemade one that he still has, the one that had the Vulture’s metal talons rip through the cloth just to dig into his skin. It would be impressive if it didn’t mean each and every mark on the suit signifies pain underneath.

“Well,” Harley says, a waver to his words but a forced smile on his face. “You look great.”

It makes the airiest of laughs push past Peter’s lips, and he offers Harley a dazed, lopsided little grin. There’s blood on his teeth. “Thanks,” he rasps, wincing slightly. Before Harley can do much more than convulsively swallow back the bile that rises in his throat (his heart coming up with it), Peter suddenly sobers up, and he looks dead serious—not in pain, not dazed, but firm. He reaches forward and grips onto Harley’s shirt, leaves bloody streaks where the glove of his suit has been burned away and the skin beneath has been burned with it, and he says, “Harley, they—they can’t hurt him.”

“Who?” Harley asks, confused.

“Green Goblin,” Peter breathes, shifting his eyes until he’s looking out the window he was thrown through, features strained. “It’s not… I’ve been hiding a lot, about—about that, ‘cause he asked me to and he’s my best friend and—”

Harley furrows his brow. “Wait, wait—what? Back up, Pete. Hiding what? Who asked?”

Peter looks back at Harley, and mixed with the blood and the bruises is a meek sort of guilt. “Harry,” he says. “The Goblin, it—it’s his dad, Harls. It’s Norman. Or, it was, and we—he didn’t want his dad to die like this, but he wanted justice, so we were gathering evidence, everything we could, so we could turn it in and get him arrested, and I wanted—I—I wanted to tell you guys but you know how complicated Harry’s feelings about his dad are and I couldn’t break his trust once he asked me not to and we were so c-close to being able to t-turn him in but then he fuh-found out and—and—”

Harley carefully cups Peter’s face in his hands, being sure to avoid any scrapes and bruises encompassing the skin there. “Breathe, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re still hurt. Don’t push yourself just to tell me this. Take a breath.”

But Peter just shakes his head, sounding urgent as he continues with, “No, you d-don’t—he found out! He—He’s got c-contacts, I don’t know who with, but there’s—there’s a way to control people, and it sounds insane and I know it does but—but—but last week the Goblin showed up, right? And I confronted him but it wasn’t Norman, it was Harry, and he was fighting me and while he was fighting me he said he didn’t want to do it, and—and I don’t know how Norman’s doing it but he’s got Harry under his contol and—and it’s him, Harley! Out there, right now, in that suit that everyone is fighting against—that’s our friend in there, and we… we gotta help him, we have to… we…”

“Peter?” Harley lightly taps his cheek when he sees Peter’s lashes start to flutter, the tension in his body bleeding out, just a bit, leaving him a little bit more limp where he lays on the ground. “Peter,” Harley says again, trying not to let his fear tint his voice too much. “Hey—”

“Tell them,” Peter murmurs, grip on Harley’s shirt starting to go a little weak. “T-Tell ‘em that ‘s ‘arry. Can’t hurt ‘im. You gotta tell ‘em.”

Harley sucks in a shaky breath and tries to compose himself a bit. Knowing Peter as well as he does, it’s not worth insisting reevaluating priorities right now—his stubborn ass boyfriend will deny help until either getting what he’s asked for or falling unconscious, whichever comes first, and with the injuries he has (the ones that Harley can see; who even knows what’s hidden beneath the suit, what bones have been broken and muscles have been torn?) falling unconscious isn’t an option until someone in the Medbay says it’s safe. Because of this, Harley just nods once, reluctantly leaning back a bit in order to address the comms, knowing Friday automatically disconnects and reconnects when it’s clearly necessary. “Guys,” he says into the wave of sound that greets him, overlapping voices and background fighting noise clashing together.

Instantly, the voices go hush. “Harley?” Tony sounds worried already, likely expecting an update on Peter and fearing the worst.

“Goblin,” Harley tells him. “Green Goblin. Peter said—he said it was Norman, and him and Harry were working together to get evidence and get him arrested, but Norman found out. He says that Norman’s got him under some kind of control now, somehow. Like, he’s literally controlling him. Like mind control, I think. The point is, it’s Harry in the suit.”

Sam speaks up, sounding equal parts skeptical and resigned. “Did you say mind control?”

Before Harley can snap at him, Natasha speaks up, telling them all, “Trust me, it’s out there. Unless someone else found a way to do it, I’m assuming this is something left behind from the Red Room—maybe someone found out how she did it, or… I don’t know. I’ll find out how Norman got his hands on it later, but the good news is, as long as it’s the same stuff, I can get my hands on some antidote. He’ll be okay.”

“Fucking antidote?” Sam repeats. “Nat, what the fuck? When did you learn about mind control? What does that have to do with the Red Room? Why do none of us know this?”

Sounding beyond amused, Nat casually says, “Have I mentioned that I have a sister?”

“Oh my god,” Tony murmurs. “Okay, shut up, we can talk about—all of that after this is over. For now—message received, Harley. We’ll try to just knock him down or something so that we can bring him into the tower and have Nat do whatever it is she just said she can do. For now, you worry about Peter. Is he okay?”

Harley looks at Peter, his breath hitching. “Maybe,” he answers. “He refused to let me help him until after I told you guys to not hurt Harry. I’ll keep you updated, though.”

“Sounds like him,” Tony chuckles. “Focus on him and you, don’t worry about updates. Friday can keep me in the loop. You’ve got this, kid.”

The comms disconnect then—Tony’s doing, no doubt, in the hopes of helping Harley from getting distracted by the battle. Harley gets why, but the sudden silence that overcomes the room is startling. For a moment, he freezes.

“Thank you,” Peter breathes, shattering the quiet—and then he promplty blacks out.

“Shit!” Harley leans forward, eyes going wide as his hands, once again, hover uselessly in the air, unsure of what to do. He has to swallow back the lump forming in his throat, and finally settles on checking Peter’s pulse—irregular, and a bit weak, but still there—and trying to wake him up as he asks, “Friday, where’s Doctor Cho? Or—Or Bruce, or fucking Stephen, or—where the hell is an actual doctor?!”

He taps at Peter’s cheek, cautiously shakes his shoulder, not wanting to agitate his wounds or cause any pain, but needing him to wake up. There’s movement behind Peter’s eyelids, but they don’t open, not quite yet. “Doctor Cho is currently at the compound, as well as Mister Banner. They are getting ready to leave for the tower to assist in post battle injuries, but will not arrive for a minimum of thirty six minutes. Contacting Doctor Strange now.”

Okay. That’s something. Harley tries to let himself relax, but it just won’t work—not when Peter is splayed out on the floor in front of him, bleeding and broken and not waking up—

“C’mon, baby,” Harley murmurs, ignoring the waver in his words. “Come on. Wake up.”

It looks pointless—hopeless, almost—but, after a moment, Peter sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes flutter, just a bit. His eyes are glazed over and unfocused, barely even parted at all, but he’s awake and murmuring unintelligible nonsensical sounds that don’t seem to equate into actual words.

Harley breaks out into a grin—one that doesn’t last too long, but the relief is flooding. He moves over his hands until he’s cupping Peter’s face gingerly in his palms. “Hey,” he says, breathes it, really, so much air to his voice that it’s a miracle he’s making any sound at all. “Hey, Pete, look—look at me, honey. Can you look at me? I’m gonna get some help, but until they get here, I need you to try and look at me, okay?”

“Mm.” Peter’s head rolls towards the sound of Harley’s voice, blinks more like little flutters of his lashes as he furrows his brows, mouth twisted up in a pained grimace. “Wh…?”

Progress. Good. “Hi, baby,” Harley whispers, thumbs brushing over the apples of Peter’s cheeks. “You in there? Can you hear me?”

There’s a moment where he gets no response, but, eventually, Peter lifts his chin in a barely noticable nod, and then lowers it to turn his cheek into Harley’s palms. “H’rley?”

“I’m right here, honey. I’ve got you.” Tears burn the backs of Harley’s eyes, well up and threaten to roll down his cheeks. He blinks them away in order to keep his vision clear. “Friday?”

Instantly, Friday responds, telling him, “Still attempting contact with Doctor Strange. I have managed to reach Wong, who has assured me he is getting my message through. Until then, I recommend keeping Mr. Parker awake and trying to slow the bleeding from his abdomen.”

Harley’s gaze flickers down, and he bites back a curse as he notices that Friday’s got a point. While Peter’s enhancements, specifically his healing, makes it possible for him to survive a much larger blood loss than the average person, that doesn’t mean it’s any less worrying to see that there’s a slight puddle beginning to form beneath him. Especially under his midsection, where a large gash across his abdomen is sluggishly yet steadily dripping .

It’s going to suck, putting pressure on a behemoth of an injury like that—Harley has to even out his breathing from just the thought of how much pain it’ll add to the agony Peter is already in—but he has to do it. If he doesn’t, he risks Peter not lasting long enough for Stephen to get here, and Stephen is their only hope.

“Okay,” he mumbles, looking back up at Peter’s pale features, trying for a shaky smile. “Alright, baby, we—we’re gonna have to pull through this next part together, okay? It’s gonna suck, but I’m gonna be right here the whole time.”

Peter looks confused, trying to process Harley’s words and struggling to blink his eyes into focus. “‘Kay,” he slurs out blearily.

Harley reluctantly pulls back his hands, being quick to yank his sweatshirt over his head, balling it up in his grasp and then reaching over with one hand to cup Peter’s face again, the other poised and prepared. “Ready, Pete?”

“Mhm.” It’s clear Peter still isn’t quite sure about what Harley is saying, but he’s agreeing anyway, and—shit, Harley loves him.

Swallowing roughly, Harley nods, just once, and steels his nerves, and presses the hoodie down.

As soon as there’s pressure against the wound, Peter gasps—a horrible, horrible sound, strangled with an agonizing cry, his eyes snapping fully open with clarity shining in them, no longer fogged over and dazed. His back rises off the floor, body instinctively trying to curl in on itself, hands scrabbling to weakly push Harley and the sweatshirt away.

“Hey, hey, hey!” There’s an urgency to Harley’s tone that makes his words come out in a strained sort of rasp. “Peter, honey, you—you gotta calm down, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I gotta slow the bleeding. It’s okay.”

His words seem to help, or the sudden pain spurred on a rush of adrenaline that’s fading as quickly as it came , or perhaps some combination of the two—Harley isn’t sure what it is, exactly, but Peter collapses back onto the floor with a whimper in the back of his throat. “Harley,” he murmurs—barely coherent, words slurring together. “Harley… ‘m tired.”

His eyelids are fluttering. Harley panics. “No,” he says. “No, no, baby, you—you gotta keep those eyes open for me, alright? I’m so sorry, honey, and I—I know it hurts, but you have to stay awake, okay? Stephen will be here soon, and he’ll fix you up, but you gotta—you—”

Peter’s eyes fall shut. Harley sobs.

“I still need to—t-to tell you that I love you!” Peter’s chest stutters with every every rise, with every fall. “We gotta—we have to finish college, Pete, and—and get an apartment together, and grow up all the way, okay? And one of us still has to propose one day, and—and—and we still need to h-have a wedding, where we make fun of Tony for crying so much, but—but it’s out of love, so it’s okay, and—we could have kids, too, Pete! You have to—you have to make it, ‘cause there’s so much left for us, for—for you, and I can’t—baby, please open your eyes, please—”

A second sob bubbles up from the center of his chest when the only response he gets is another stuttered breath. He tries to remind himself that at least that means Peter is still breathing, just in time for Friday to speak up, softspoken as she says, “My message has officially reached Doctor Strange. ETA should be any second now. Boss has been informed.”

Only a moment later, there’s an orange glow from behind him, but Harley doesn’t look, too busy keeping the pressure steady and firm against Peter’s abdomen with one hand, the other now pressed to Peter’s pulse on his neck to assure himself that his heart is beating—his own breaths uneven and choked off as he cries.

A hand lands on his shoulder. “You did good, Harley,” Stephen tells him gently. “Let me take it from here, alright?”

He doesn’t want to let Peter go, but he knows he has to, if he wants to make sure Peter makes it out of this alive. Body trembling, he pulls his hands away, doesn’t stand up (he isn’t sure if he could, with his legs feeling so weak) but manages to scramble back a few feet to give Stephen enough room. “Is he—is he—?”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Stephen assures him, already creating another portal with one hand, using the other to lift Peter off the ground, his Cloak moving over quickly to aid in levitating him. “And I’m good at what I do.”

He leaves with that, disappearing through the portal with Peter—and Harley remains where he is, sitting on the concrete floor of the lab, hands covered in his boyfriend’s blood, sobbing.

Outside, the fight goes on.

In here, the world stops turning.

—

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, or how much time has passed. He doesn’t know if the fight is over, if they got Harry, is anyone else got hurt. He doesn’t know anything, not for what feels like hours. He just sits, head bowed, face buried in his arms, uncontrollably shaking.

Inside his mind is a jumbled up mess. Part of him can’t stop picturing it—Peter, battered and bleeding out right in front of him. Part of him keeps picturing the future he had been blubbering about, forms images in his head on the two of them at their ESU graduation together, getting the keys for the apartment that they refuse to let Tony help them pay for, maybe bringing in a pet or two, probably alleyway strays that Peter finds on patrol. A ring, not horrendously expensive but still undoubtedly perfect and special, and a wedding, small and wonderful.

Kids. God, he could have kids one day, and Peter could be the guy he has them with.

If Peter makes it out alive.

A shuddering breath wracks his frame, body trembling at the idea of Peter doing anything but. He’s so caught up in all of this, in these two conflicting trains of thought, that he doesn’t hear the door to the lab open, or the footsteps that cautiously approach. It isn’t until a gentle hand settles on his knee that he even realizes he’s no longer alone, and even then, he doesn’t lift his head until he hears a shaky, “Harley?”

It isn’t Tony, or Rhodey, or Sam, or Stephen—it isn’t anyone that Harley would have expected to be the one to come in here right now—but, when Harley looks up, bleary and bloodshot eyes widening a bit, he isn’t all that surprised.

Harry is kneeling in front of his, looking a little bit worse for wear. There’s an abundance of scrapes and bruises scattered about his face, the knuckles on the hand resting on Harley’s knee busted open and an angry looking red. He’s got on the light grey sweatpants and the white cotton shirt that are stocked up in the Med Bay, but the clothes are all rumpled and askew. He looks tired, and heavy, and sad. But, when he sees Harley looking at him, he tries for a smile. “Hey. How you feeling, man?”

“Like shit,” Harley rasps, bring up a hand to scrub at the sticky dried tear tracks on his cheeks, only to freeze just before his hand can come in contact with his face, remembering the smears of dried blood coating his skin. His eyes water at the reminder, but he blinks it away, dropping his hand and clearing his throat. He eyes Harry, frowning. “What about you? Pete… he, uh—he said Norman was controlling you…?”

Huffing out something that’s a bit too hollow and bitter to really be a laugh, Harry nods, looking away with a smile that’s so twisted it looks more like a grimace. “Yeah,” he says. “I still don’t really know what it was, or how he did it, but—yeah. Natasha got me free of it, though, and she said, uh—she has a sister, I guess, who went through the whole… mind control, or whatever the hell that was, so she’s gonna get ahold of her and have her—I don’t know, visit, or something? I think Nat just wants me to talk to someone who knows what it feels like. But…”

He trails off, and Harley—Harley sees, suddenly, how stricken and haunted Harry truly looks.

“But I don’t want to talk about it,” he decidedly says a moment later, eyes downcast. “Not yet. Or ever, really. I mean, how do you even try to talk about the fact that your own father just used some kind of mind control to force you into trying to kill your own best friend, right?”

The way that Harley’s stomach twists and turns on itself makes him swallow back bile. “Is he…”

Harry glances back up at Harley, one side of his lips twitching up. “He’ll make it.” The barely there smile fades into a grimace, and he looks back down. “No thanks to me, of course.”

“I…” Harley isn’t sure what he wants to start with—the relief of knowing that Peter is going to pull through, the irrational anger within him that makes him want to blame Harry for it, the logical majority of him knowing that Harry isn’t the one to blame, that Harry has been traumatized by what just happened and is as much a victim as Peter, if not more so. He settles on murmuring, “It’s not your fault.”

“My hands,” Harry counters. “I did it to him.”

Harley shakes his head, reaches out—pauses, when he sees the dried blood flaking off of his skin, but then—settles his hand on Harry’s shoulder anyway. “Your dad did it,” he corrects. “He used you like a puppet, and that isn’t on you. Peter won’t blame you. I don’t, either.”

“You should,” Harry says bitterly. “I mean, Pete wanted us to tell you guys about it all—about my dad being Green Goblin, when we found out, but I—I was so stupid to think we could do it by ourselves, and so selfish, asking him to keep it between us, all because me and my fucking daddy issues decided it was better that way. Look at where it got us. Where it got him.”

“If you had any sort of idea,” Harley starts, “that anything like this could have happened, would you have made the same choices you made?”

Harry looks offended. “Of course not!”

Harley shrugs. “Then I don’t think you’re the bad guy here. Now, before either of us sinks deeper into our own little depressive spirals here, I think—I think I wanna go see him.”

But that’s not it, is it?

“Need to,” he corrects. “I need to see him.”

Though he still looks conflicted, Harry offers him a nod and gets to his feet, hand outstretched to help Harley stand. “Let’s go.”

—

There’s a lot of bandages, and bruises, and waxy pale skin. Harley falters in the door, taking the sight of it all in, and then steps forward, again, and again, until he’s falling into the chair situation by the head of the bed heavily.

“I, uh…” Harry trails off, still standing in the doorway. It’s hard for Harley to rip his eyes away and look over, but he does when he registers the waver in Harry’s voice, and finds that the guy is staring intently down at the floor with a furrow to his brows. “I can’t—I can’t be in here. I know you’re right, logically, that it isn’t really my fault, but I was—I remember causing… all of this, okay? Even if I wasn’t in control, I still remember, and I don’t think I can—y’know?”

Be in this room, Harley knows is what Harry’s trying to say. He can’t be here and see Peter like this, when he can so vividly remember his hands causing these wounds, control or no control. Harley swallows roughly and nods, just once. “Where are you gonna go, then? Because I don’t think being alone is good for you right now. Like… I don’t know. Call Flash, at least. He’ll rush over to keep you company and make sure you’re okay. I think you might need that.”

Harry’s eyes flicker up, barely glancing over Peter with a flinch before settling his gaze on Harley. “I will,” he assures. “I’ll call him.”

“I’m gonna ask Friday in twenty minutes if you have yet,” Harley warns. “And if you haven’t, I’m gettin’ ahold of him myself. Understood?”

A half hearted partially there smile punctuated by an eye roll. “Yeah, I got it, you mother hen.”

“Good,” Harley says, nodding.

Moments later, Harry is gone.

Harley turns, slowly but surely, to face Peter once again. It causes a pang in his chest, seeing his boyfriend so beaten down, attached to various machines and IV’s, all there to keep him stabilized, but he finds comfort in the rhythmic beeping that signifies every beat of Peter’s heart, reaches out to hold one of his hands in both of his own, careful and gentle and loving.

Because he loves him. Because Peter is everything, and Harley is in love with him.

“When you wake up, I’m gonna tell you,” Harley whispers, thumb lightly stroking over Peter’s bruised knuckles. “And I’m gonna tell you that I’m in this for the long haul, okay? And if you don’t feel the same, or just aren’t ready to say it back, then that’s okay, ‘cause I just wanna make sure you never get hurt like this without knowin’ how much you mean to me. Sound like a plan?”

Peter’s eyes move beneath his eyelids, his chest rising and falling, fingers flexing, just barely, against Harley’s palms.

Harley beams, eyes watering. “Yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “Definitely a plan.”

#my writing #parkner

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

White Lies (Pt. 11 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (10)

Next part (12) ->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

Guilt

The first feeling to wash over him when he opens his eyes is bliss. Pure, and utter bliss, a kind of happiness he didn't even know existed. Seeing (Y/N) peacefully sleeping on his chest is more than he deserves... And that's when it kicks in, and the joy is corrupted, overcome by guilt.

He can't believe what he did. He betrayed her on a whole other level. This isn't fair to her, not when she believes they're married. He's too buried in this lie, and last night, he did the only thing he never thought he'd do.

But how could he not? He's in love with her, he wants to be the father of her child, and there are times, and they come more often every passing day, that he's completely overcome by the fake life he's living. There are moments where Keanu is her husband. The lines are so blurry right now that he can't separate things. He can't tell the difference anymore.

Running a hand through his hair, looking at the ceiling, he smiles as she moves a little in her sleep, snuggling closer to him, a warm hand on his bare chest. (Y/N) is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. And everything drives him in. Her voice, her smile, her laughter. The way she walks, the way she talks to her unborn child when she thinks he's not listening.

He tried. He really did, but look how much he failed.

All this had an expiration date. And in the very beginning, he couldn't wait for that day. When she would remember and would go on with her life, picking it up where she left it, and forget about him. But with time, things changed. And now, he knows he can keep this up forever. (Y/N) won't remember, and Keanu can make this real. Fake the papers, he knows people who could do it. She'd be his wife.

But his love is too strong to do such a thing. He can't bring himself to do this. He has to tell her, everything. The lie, the reason, and explain it wasn't his idea. He also needs to tell her about his feelings, because they're the only real thing in this mess. And if the heavens listen to his prayers, if some kind of miracle happens, maybe, just maybe, she'd still love him. Marry him, for real this time.

Keanu could only hope. The pregnancy is not at risk anymore, and despite the doctors saying he should still keep the act, Dr. Harris assured him (Y/N) is strong enough now. And he has to tell her. And so he will. He just needs some time away from all this, away from this place, to enjoy this while he still can because he knows how insane it is. That the chances are she'll go to Argentina with her mother-in-law, and he'll never see her again. And if that really happens, he won't blame her.

Because after everything he did, for taking her as if she was his last night, he doesn't deserve this bliss. But he wants it, and he can't bring himself to end this without some more time with her. Something he will remember and cherish for the rest of this life if this is bound to break.

The morning light is what welcomes you back to consciousness. Closing your eyes tight before opening them up, you take a deep breath. The air is cold, you can feel it on your bare shoulders, but the warmth coming from Keanu keeps you from complaining. The first thing you remember is what happened last night, and your cheeks go red. Smiling a little, you softly caress Keanu's chest with your thumb, not sure if he's awake yet.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He says, and your smile only gets brighter. You love the pet name.

“Morning.” Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you place a kiss on his chest, right on his heart, then on his collarbone before finally reaching his lips. “Did you sleep well?” The question was supposed to be simple, but the smirk comes from somewhere inside you and you're sure it just changed the intonation of the thing.

“Very well.” He mutters, a hand coming to caress your cheek. Keanu sounds weird, a weight on his voice.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you let yourself sink back to bed, lying beside him. “Did I... Did I do something wrong last night?” You can't help but ask, the euphoria vanishing quickly as you try to understand why he seems so... Sad.

“Of course not.” Turning on his side and encircling your waist with a strong arm, pulling you closer, he shakes his head lightly. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

“Then what's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. Everything is so perfect that it looks like a dream.” As he speaks, you move closer, feeling as his hand rubs the small of your back.

“Uhm... I think–” The doorbell cuts you off. “Who could that be?” It sounds like a whine.

“Lucia.”

“What?” Moving away from him, you sit up. “What is she doing here?”

“She came to visit you.”

“Oh...” Who could blame you for forgetting she was coming today? You're not a fan of her, and what's going on here is far better. “Can't we just–” The cold air on your torso makes you pull the sheets to shield your body, trying really hard not to let Keanu notice how red you must be. “Can't we just pretend we're not here and stay the whole day in bed?” You're not even done speaking when the doorbells rings again.

“She already dislikes me, if you don't show up, it'll make it even worse.” Sitting up, he pulls you into a kiss. “I'll dress up and open the door for her. Go take a shower. I'll make you something to eat.”

“Alright.” Sighing, you purposely climb past him to get off the bed. Keanu gives you a look, that you choose to ignore, pulling the sheets with you as you move to the bathroom.

“One more thing.” He calls out, right before you close the bathroom door shut.

“What?”

“You don't need to cover up. You're beautiful.”

Moving to the side so the door will hide your face, you bite your lip. “Thanks, babe.” You manage to push out, closing the door.

Once you're done washing yourself, you put your hair up on a ponytail and a light blue dress. Taking one of Keanu's hoodies to protect you from the coat, you move downstairs, and the only reason why you're smiling is because you smell of bacon. It was the first breakfast Keanu made you, and it feels kinda nostalgic. It is one of the oldest memories you have.

“(Y/N),” Lucia calls as you're making your way to the kitchen. Keanu looks over his shoulder, and you give him a forced smile before turning on your heels and moving to the living room. “I missed you so much!” Lucia pulls you into a hug.

“Hi, Lucia. How's everything?” You don't like Lucia. And Lucia doesn't like your husband. And Keanu, being a gentleman, won't admit he can't stand her, but you know that's how he feels.

“I'm great. Tell me about you.” You both move to the couch, taking a seat. “How's the baby? Have you come up with a name yet?”

“We're still thinking... But we agreed on not telling people until we know for sure.” Deciding to just let it out before she asks, you try not to let her notice you feel a little uncomfortable when she touches your belly.

“Have you... Have you considered Daniel?” Lucia asks, her voice breaking a little. Shrugging your shoulders, you shake your head no. “D-doesn't this name mean anything to you?”

Obviously not. But you won't be a bitch about it. “No, it doesn't.”

“Alright.” She mumbles, clearing her throat. “So, how's this little one?”

“He's great.” You say, a hand coming to your belly.

“Or she,” Keanu adds, and you roll your eyes.

“Quit spying on me, babe.” You raise your voice, and there's only a low giggle in response.

“Is he spying on you?” Despite the clear joking tone you had, Lucia sounds... Genuinely worried.

Chuckling at her expression, you sigh. “We're just joking around, Lucia.”

“Honey...” She takes both your hands on hers, as she does right before telling you how you can trust her if Keanu does anything. It's quite tiring, actually. She can't seem to understand he's a good person. Maybe it's the age thing... But that's not her business.

“I know what you'll say, Mrs. Davis, and I assure you there's nothing to worry about. Keanu is a gentleman, he hasn't pushed me into anything.” You don't want to talk to her about that, but you don't have a choice. Every time this happens, you just hope to say the right thing to make her let it go. “Everything we've done was because I was ready.”

“What do you mean by everything you've done?” Her tone changes suddenly, a lot harsher than before, and her hands squeeze yours.

You weren't talking about that... And you didn't think that was exactly where her mind would float too. “Mrs. Davis, this is between me and Keanu.”

She giggles, fake and loud, and in a sudden motion, Lucia gets up, walking fast to the kitchen. “What did you do to her?” She's already yelling when you finally reach the kitchen, a finger on Keanu's face.

“Mrs. Davis, I–” He starts, but you won't let him do this. Lucia was your mother's ‘friend’, or so she says, and you won't let her put Keanu in this position.

“What do you think you're doing?” Moving to stand between him and Lucia, you raise her voice above hers. “What gives you the right to come to my house, put your nose in my life, and yell at my husband?” Being rude wasn't the intention, but you're suddenly angry. Blame it on the hormones, blame it on the fact that you don't like Lucia at all, or on the fact that she ruined a perfectly good morning.

“Am I supposed to smile and nod when you go around letting him have you?” Her disgusted tone takes you by surprise. Why is she talking like this? What's wrong with this woman?

“My private life is not your business, and if you haven't been paying attention, Keanu is my husband.” Stepping forward, you stare into her eyes. “And I won't have you talking like this.”

Lucia laughs, pacing around a little, a hand covering her mouth as if you just told a joke.

“This man is not–”

“That's enough.” Keanu suddenly shouts, and it startles both of you. You never heard him yelling, and that's completely new. “I won't let you speak like that in my house. I know you're important to (Y/N), but the only thing I won't allow is you ruining her progress. If you keep this up, I'll have to let her doctor know about your behavior around his patient.”

After his thunder voice is gone, you're left in silence. Deep, uncomfortable, tense silence. Lucia seems to be broken though, her face dropped, and both her arms rest on the sides of her body. “I think you should leave now, Mrs. Davis.” You say in a low voice.

She nods, eyes on Keanu. “You'll pay for what you're doing.” Is the last thing she says before storming away, taking her purse and leaving the house, pulling the front door so violently you wonder if she broke something.

Running a hand through your hair, you take a deep breath, turning at Keanu. “What the hell was that?” You mutter, still trying to understand that just happened.

“Are you alright?” He comes closer, and you immediately collapse on his chest.

“I'm alright. She's a bitch.”

“Don't think about it. Let's eat.”

Nodding, you wash yesterday's dishes as he finishes breakfast, and you both sit down to eat. Power is back, thankfully, so you decide to watch some TV as he showers. Laura calls, and you invite her over for dinner. Keanu will have a co-worker, so you'll just need to add another plate. And, after all this, you need to talk to someone.

You're skipping through the channels when Keanu comes back downstairs, and when he settles down next to you, you immediately snuggle closer, until you're pretty much lying down, and you're the little spoon, back pressed against his chest.

“I invited Laura for dinner.” You tell him, still looking for something to watch.

“Are you planning on setting her up with Robert?”

“Is Robert single?” You didn't have this in mind, but now you do.

“He is.”

“Then I'm setting her up with Robert.” You quickly make your mind, carefully turning around on the couch so you're facing Keanu. “I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't think Lucia would explode like that.”

“It's alright, beautiful.” He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I was thinking... We should take a trip. Two weeks and only if your doctors say it's alright, of course. Just so we could stay away from all this for a while.”

Smiling, you peck his lips. “I'd love that. Could we go to the beach?”

“Wherever you want, sweetheart.”

“Will it... Will it be like a second honeymoon?” You can't remember the first, but you figure it's no good to bring this up now.

Keanu giggles, caressing your chin with his thumb and index finger. “Anything you want.”

“Well, I'll need a new bikini because these two won't feet on the one I have.” You gesture at your breasts, still growing a little. “I could call Laura and we could go shopping.”

“Let me talk to the doctors first. Because there's no way I'm taking you away if they think it will be dangerous.” Keanu reminds you, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, sir.” Moving on the couch, you start climbing on him, until you're straddling his hips. “But one day I'll be one hundred percent fine. And this won't be a problem anymore.”

“Of course.”

“So... Did you lock the front door?” You ask, placing both your hands on his chest.

“I did. Why?” When you don't answer, but just smiles and sits up, arms around your waist as he captures your lips on a kiss.

• • •

Laura has a perplexed expression on her face as you tell about Lucia. You don't mean to gossip, but Laura is pretty much your best friend, and you need someone from outside to help you understand what the hell happened. Seated on the downstairs balcony, you cross your arms, leg bouncing as you let out the whole story.

“That's crazy.” Laura bursts out. “I get it that you're important to her and everything, but you're an adult, even though you lost your memory. And you have the right to make your own decisions.”

“Thank you.” You breathe out, throwing a hand in the air. “She snapped out of nowhere. And the way she spoke to Keanu? God, I almost considered slapping her in the face.” This makes you giggle, and so does Laura.

“Look, I was... Quite unsure of this in the beginning. But I wanted you to figure things out on your own, and let you know I was there if something happened.” That's true. Laura is always around, and, if anything backfired, if something bad happened between you and Keanu, she'd be the first person you'd call for help. “And with time, I saw that you were doing fine. And I know you love him, and he loves you. I'm sure because I spoke to him myself.” With a sassy smile, she leans back, resting against the chair.

“You did what?”

“I spoke to him.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing matters to me. The age difference, the memory loss, it doesn't matter. The important thing is the feeling. So yes, I called him and had a long conversation about you, and I'm convinced that man in there loves you more than anything. You and this baby.”

Laura sounds so damn sure it brings tears to your eyes. Covering your face with both hands, you start crying. “Stupid hormones!” You exclaim, body shaking with the sobs.

“Oh, (Y/N).” She gets up and hugs you, bending down a little. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

“It's from happiness, so don't worry.” Calming down, you take a deep breath as she pulls a nearby chair and sits next to you. “Anyway... I'm setting you up with Robert tonight. Keanu's friend and co-worker.” You mutter, wiping the tears away. “So let me know if you like him or not, alright?”

“Alright.” She agrees with an eye roll.

Despite having your mind floating to two different things: you and Keanu, and Lucia's outburst, you manage to enjoy dinner. Robert is kind, and you do think this whole thing with him and Laura could work out.

But in the next days, what you really want to know it about the trip. Things have been getting even better between you and Keanu, you're growing a lot closer now that you're both living like a married couple. And going somewhere else with him would be absolutely amazing. At first, Dr. Wright says it's alright, but some exams will be needed to see if it would be safe. Dr. Harris on the other hand said that you're ready. Your mind is ready, and you hope with all your heart that your body is too.

It takes too many days for Dr. Wright and the others to finally allow you to go. But only for two weeks, and whatever you'll be staying, it has to be near a hospital, just in case. Keanu said something about having a helicopter ready to take you back to New York if something happens, but you don't want to believe he'd do such a thing.

But when you're getting inside the plane, heading to Miami, you're cheerful. You're determined to make this trip amazing, for both of you. This is a mark, a rite of passage. From this day on, you'll forget what happened, you'll forget that you lost something. You can either suffer for the rest of your life for everything you lost or enjoy what you have. And you'll enjoy it because what you have right now is wonderful.

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves #imagine keanu reeves #john wick fanfic #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction #john wick x reader

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tiifalockhart · 4 years ago

Text

End of the F**king World

Pairing: Sephiroth/Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: major character death, implications of stalker behavior, mentions of torture, mentions of insanity, portrayal of mental illness, end of the world, anxiety, depression, alludes to suicide

A/N: this wasn’t a request, however, this idea had been on my mind for quite awhile. with lots of motivation, i finally put it into words. please keep in mind that there are huge trigger warnings for this content, since it is probably the most angsty and intense thing i’ve written on this blog!! i hope you enjoy reading, feedback is greatly appreciated

Ao3 || Masterlist

After it all had fallen apart, there was nothing left to hope for.

Genesis was gone, Angeal was dead, Zack was dead, Sephiroth was... Dead? His body was found deep inside the destroyed Nibleheim reactor, so it was possible that Sephiroth was dead, right? But...

You aren’t supposed to see dead people.

So why was it that Sephiroth was constantly following you around? Why was he silently watching you at all times? No matter where you looked, he was there. It was chilling to see his cat-like mako eyes pierce into your skull. His twisted smirk made your stomach churn and want to run away as fast as you could, but there was no where to run. He was always with you. Whether you wanted him or not, it seemed like you didn’t have a choice.

What did you do to earn such a strange connection to the dead?

That’s right... In Nibleheim, you were there. You were one of the sole survivors that witnessed it all. The roaring flames, the deafening screams and cries of dying people, the sound of buildings collapsing and blades crashing against one another, you relived it every time you closed your eyes.

Sephiroth sought out to kill you, even though you were a simple bystander. But... That wasn’t the complete truth, was it? You were more important than anyone else at Nibleheim. That’s why he came after you, right? Think of it as... Young love, a childhood best friend, his only friend, that’s what you were. That is, until you mysteriously disappeared and left him all alone. You were taken far away from Shinra after being deemed as... “Intruding.” You and Sephiroth were just children, you didn’t understand the world. You always thought wishfully because even as a child, you knew that Sephiroth didn’t belong in a laboratory twenty-four-seven. You put all of these ideas of “running away” or “sneaking out” into his head. He became obsessed with the idea for the longest time. He wanted to run away, he wanted to experience this life that you mentioned so many times, he wanted to experience normalcy.

When Hojo caught wind of this... Disobedience, he sent you and your family far away. He sent you as far away as he could. Your father began to work at the Nibleheim Mansion as a book keeper as punishment for your indiscipline. Sephiroth felt betrayed by your disappearance. He blamed you for the punishments he received for wanting to escape. He blamed you for leaving him alone to deal with it. He never forgot about it, instead he bottled it up and chalked it up to some kind of cruel training he had to go to.

As he grew up, those thoughts bothered him less and less. He figured he would never have to see you again, therefore he would never have to face that trauma again. Instead of coping with it, he pushed it away to the deepest place he could and tried to forget about it. But as things around him began to crumble, all of his past traumas began to surface again. Genesis ended up leaving him, so did Angeal. His two friends, his only friends since you, ended up leaving him. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for him to snap. The moment he knew he was being sent to Nibleheim for a mission, dread began to build up inside of him. As if it were a sixth sense, he knew something was going to happen here. He made sure to keep his guard up as they arrived at Nibleheim, who knew what was going to happen?

What he didn’t expect, though, was that the threat he was dreading would end up being himself. Dealing with the loss of his two friends was enough, but he never expected having to face you after all those years. You looked exactly the same from when you were a child. Sephiroth knew who you were in an instance when he saw you in that village. He knew that he couldn’t stay. He had to run from you, he had to run, he had to. He avoided you like the plague, unwilling to unpack the bottled-up regret and anger he held for you. His mind couldn’t stop wandering to his childhood with you, he began to question everything. Why were you here in Nibleheim? Why did you leave him? Why was he punished because of you? Why did Genesis and Angeal have to leave, too? He felt sick, he felt weak and dizzy, nothing was making sense anymore.

That was just the tip of the iceberg, though.

The moment his eyes landed on those monsters in the reactor, he felt something inside of him shatter. He needed answers. He needed anything.

He needed something.

Something to grip onto.

He was losing his mind.

What was reality? What was real and what was fake?

He couldn’t hear himself over his own thoughts anymore. He was descending into madness. He couldn’t stop himself from wandering into that library. It was similar to a deep, primal instinct. It felt like he was hunting for prey. But there was no prey. He was hunting for... Nothing? It didn’t make sense, nothing made sense anymore. The voices of concern were drowned out by his mind screaming at him. His mind told him that he couldn’t eat or sleep until he had answers. Who was he? Who were his parents? Why did he want to escape? What are these voices in his head?

He paced back and forth until his legs were numb, his fingers frantically flipped through the pages of those books, his heart pounded in his chest to the point where it was deafening. He was terrified for the first time in his life. But it wasn’t because of some foe he had to face. No...

He was terrified of himself.

That’s when he stumbled upon the documents named ‘Project S.’ His fingers trembled as his eyes scanned the pages. His arms grew weak, he couldn’t stand anymore and ended up collapsing against the wall. He slid down the wall slowly as he took in every bit of information.

He was... A monster?

No.

He was an Ancient...

He was a God.

This was his world.

It all belonged to him.

He was betrayed by everyone. He was treated like an experiment on his own Earth. He was destroyed and numbed to the cruelties of this Earth, used by simple humans for their own bidding. He was dumbed down to a puppet. Everyone else had to have known, right? His mother was Jenova... The J.E.N.O.V.A.? They lied to him. How could they all keep this from him..? His own friends, his mentors and companions? Why did they... It didn’t make sense. Even Zack hid all of this from him... His last friend...

It all started with the books.

Sephiroth burned them all. He was caught up in a fit of rage. He was betrayed by everyone. Everyone he’s come to know has known what he is, but decided to hide it. His entire existence was a lie. It was all fabricated from birth. How many people knew besides the scientists? The people he laid down his life for ended up betraying him. He would never forgive the human race for what they’ve done.

Before he knew it, the entire village was in flames. Overcome with rage, Sephiroth decided he was personally going to rip the world apart. Everyone would suffer because of what they’ve done to him. There was no room for negotiation anymore, they lost that privilege many years ago.

During this fit of rage, Sephiroth’s eyes managed to land on you. This was where it all started, wasn’t it? You could have saved him, you could have told him the truth. You knew what he was, but you participated in treating him like... Like some lab rat. You lied, and you were just as guilty as everyone else.

He couldn’t stop himself from raising Masamune over his head. His vision was red with anger, he was no longer thinking for himself. His mind screamed at him. This is what they wanted, wasn’t it? A truly powerful being...

He’d show you what power really looks like.

It was all your fault.

How you managed to escape was a mystery to all. How Sephiroth was still alive was a mystery to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

You remembered that day very clearly. You hadn’t even known Sephiroth was in Nibleheim. You didn’t know that he still remembered you. You didn’t know that you planted the seed for his inevitable mental break.

Now, you were cursed with a daily reminder. His eyes would never leave you for as long as you lived. You assumed the same fate followed you into the Lifestream.

The day of the Nibleheim Incident, you took off into hiding immediately. You couldn’t face the guilt that possessed you. You could still clearly hear the pain in Sephiroth’s cries as he stood over you. “You took everything from me!” It played in your mind on repeat. He died knowing that it was all your fault this happened. His last few words would be permanently ingrained into your brain. You slightly wished that he had just finished the job in Nibleheim... But you somewhat convinced yourself that that wasn’t his intention.

Now that he was staring you in the face, you couldn’t believe that he intended for you to die in Nibleheim. He fully intended on you living with your sins and carrying that burden until the end of your time.

It’s been months now since his first appearance. You remembered when you first saw him after Nibleheim many months ago. You were making your morning deliveries, casually walking around the Sector 5 slums. You approaching the small orphanage located at the top of the slums, ready to face the children when you suddenly stopped in your tracks. Your eyes had been focused on the ground as you walked, so when you saw black boots suddenly appear in your vision, a confused expression formed on your features. You slowly lifted your head to look up at the mysterious figure, only to let out a blood-curdling scream and fall back.

In front of you stood the silver-haired SOLDIER, he wore a twisted and sickening smirk, his eyes held a glint of... Desire. His left hand tightened around the hilt of his blade as he stared down at you. Fear consumed you as you prepared to finally die, your eyes squeezing tight as your hands came to cover your head.

When nothing happened, you slowly lifted your head again to see everyone around you staring at you in confusion. Sephiroth was gone as if he completely vanished into thin-air. The ladies working at the orphanage stared at you, fear evident in their eyes. They held the children back from approaching you, as if you were the one to be feared.

No one else had seen Sephiroth.

You were the only one.

You quickly got up, not bothering to dust yourself off or gather your things, before taking off to your small shack. Surely, it was part of your imagination. People have mentioned having hallucinations and stuff, maybe that’s what happened. You tried to think it through logically as you splashed cold water on your face. When you lifted your head again, you felt his presence in the back of the room.

“Why are you here?” You asked, your voice shaking as you turned towards him. He was leaning against the wall casually, his smirk still present. Instead of answering you, he simply looked in your direction before walking further into the house. His gaze sent chills down your spine. What kind of desire is he holding inside?

Life went on like that for months. Eventually, you were forced to grow used to his presence, no matter how oppressive it was. He would follow you anywhere, basically. He hardly said anything, if he did, it was probably something obscure and ominous. Eventually, you began to talk to him more, finding it unreasonably hard to cope with what life has become. You were never sure if he was listening or not, but deep down inside, you kind of hoped.

You were never sure what Sephiroth was intending to get out of spending all of his time with you. It kind of made you anxious, knowing that you had some... Purpose to him, something that made you special from everyone else. Even through the hard times like the fall of Sector 7, he hardly ever left your side.

There was one night where you felt particularly lonely. Sephiroth seemed to be gone, no where to be found. It was odd, even if you were his sworn enemy, you still found yourself concerned if he wasn’t around. That night, to somehow distract yourself, you wandered out into the Sector 5 slums, hoping to cope with the suffocating loneliness. That’s when you heard the news channel booming from the monitor at the center of the town. You approached the crowd quietly, feeling your heart drop at the announcements.

President Shinra was dead. They claimed it was from Avalanche, but you knew better than that. From behind you, you heard his chilling voice.

“You agree that he deserved it, don’t you?” Sephiroth asked, his voice low. It sounded like just a whisper in your ear. The question was odd... He wasn’t asking for your opinion, instead he was asking which side you were on.

President Shinra did deserve it, though, didn’t he? While you would never wish death upon someone, it was undeniable how terrible of a man the President was. You could only respond with a weak nod of your head, feeling too repulsed to give him anything more.

You moved to take off back to your home, only to feel the burning sensation of his gloved hand wrapped around your forearm. “The end is nigh... Who’s side will you be on?” He questioned. You forced yourself to look back at him.

“What end?” You asked, your voice shaking as you spoke. Sephiroth didn’t give you an answer, instead he let go and slowly backed into the shadows, leaving you alone once again.

What end was he talking about? ...End of the world? No, he doesn’t have that kind of power, does he? Honestly, you weren’t sure what Sephiroth was capable of in this form. He was powerful before he died, but what is he capable of now that he is dead?

You wouldn’t know his true power until it came to you in dreams. Since President Shinra’s death, and your odd conversation with Sephiroth that night, you had been having weird dreams. They weren’t the kind of weird that you forget in an instance of waking up, no... These dreams were visions. They were of what was to come. You saw visions of people you didn’t know dying, you saw a giant star in the sky slowly closing in on the Midgar tower, you saw visions of the Lifestream erupting from the ground... They had to have been connected, didn’t they?

Sephiroth was no longer around for you to question him. It’s like he suddenly vanished, like he never existed after Nibleheim. Had you imagined it all up? It was getting hard to tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to search for him. You didn’t want to see him anymore. Truthfully, you wished you had never seen him in the first place.

It seemed like months had passed since then. You were really keeping track of time anymore, honestly. Things began to change in the world around you, though. Above you, in the sky, a meteor pushed against the atmosphere of the world. Everyone else was terrified of it, but... You honestly couldn’t say that you were afraid of it anymore. After months of visions, you saw it coming.

This was the end that Sephiroth was talking about, wasn’t it?

The end of his torment.

The end of the human race.

The end of the fucking world.

You hated him for it. There was no one that could stop him... He knew that, everyone seemed to know it except for the innocent lives. You heard the daily questions from bystanders.

“Why is this happening?”

“Are we all going to die?”

“There is nothing we can do to stop it, is there?”

Humanity’s downfall rested in the palms of a revenge-stricken God, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

By now, you had already accepted death. It was inevitable at this point. The fates of everyone were completely compromised at this point, death stared everyone in the face. It was only a matter of time until the Meteor made contact with the Earth.

You remembered when the evacuation of Midgar began. Every single person was forced onto trains, cars, buses, whatever mode of transportation was available in poor attempts to escape fate. You watched from the window as the bus drove away, your eyes glued to the Meteor. Only a few days from then...

Those next few days were absolute torture. The entire world played a waiting game. There was really nothing to do to prepare for impact. Any preparations would be futile. In the end, there seemed to be a collective loss of morale.

This was the end.

Just a few hours before the Meteor struck, you remembered hearing that familiar unsettling voice. “What a beautiful creation.” Sephiroth commented, his eyes fixated on the star. You looked up at him, your burning gaze quickly turning into one of shock. He stood next to you, blood decorating his face and suit.

“What happened to you?” You asked softly, your brows furrowing slightly in concern. As much as you hated to admit it, you still cared for him.

He shook his head slowly. “I...” He hesitated, seeming to return to his old self for just a moment. He slowly turned towards you, regaining that twisted look. “Will never be a memory.” He hissed, before completely dissipating in front of you.

Below you, the ground began to shake. Your eyes shot up to the Meteor, expecting to see Midgar destroyed by now, but to your surprise, streams of green were fighting it off. There were screams coming from the people around you, they all cheered on the Lifestream. You couldn’t bring yourself to cheer though. This was fate, wasn’t it? You found yourself strangely conflicted.

In the end, the Meteor ended up being destroyed before it could even touch Midgar. You watched as the Meteor disintegrated into small rocks. The population around you cheered unendingly, thanking the Gods for survival. You found yourself unsure. You survived, but at what cost? This battle with Sephiroth isn’t over... You knew that deep down. A quiet sigh left your lips as you turned away from the celebrating crowds, finding it hard to relate.

This wasn’t the end, after all.

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onlyangelcas · 4 years ago

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rosé flowing with your chosen family

my addition to @spnwomenweek ☼ day 2: family | read on ao3

“Claire,” Kaia says softly, placing her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “This is your family, what are you so worried about?”

Claire sighs, unsure of what exactly is so nerve wracking about walking into a house filled with her loved ones. Her back is resting against the side of her beat up station wagon, one sneaker kicking uselessly at the gravel under her feet and Kaia is looking at her with those concerned eyes that make her stomach knot up with guilt.

In front of her, past the somewhat wild front lawn, is Sam and Eileen’s new home, where their family is gathered for a last minute housewarming party. Sam and Eileen had put in an offer a few days after their wedding back in March, eager to get out of the dingy bunker and begin their life as a married couple. Claire was happy for them, Sam deserved a life of domesticity, just as Cas and Dean did.

It was weird, those first few weeks after the Winchsesters had defeated Chuck, God, whatever. Claire was devastated by the news of Cas being taken by the Empty, she hardly moved from her bed in the days following. Left confused, broken, and grieving an angel who was like her father in more ways than just his appearance. Kaia was supportive, of course, content to cuddle up next to her and run a soothing hand through her hair or convince her to eat a real meal at least once a day.

Before she even had the chance to fully process the loss of Cas, Jack and Dean had rescued him from the Empty. She remembered Jody’s voice calling out to her, she had slid from her bed and padded toward the front door. Claire was shocked to see Cas standing there, normal trench coat and suit traded in for a sweater and jeans, his hand tightly holding Dean’s. The two men had looked at her with concern, probably taking in her wrinkled pajamas, two-day-old bun, and the dark circles under her eyes. She had passed on asking the millions of questions that had flooded her mind in favor of wrapping herself tightly around Cas.

Claire had never been one to show her emotions so viscerally, but in that moment she couldn’t help the tears that quickly rolled down her cheeks. The joy of seeing Cas, when she thought he was gone for good, standing in her living room full of life and having apparently worked out whatever feelings he had for Dean, was overwhelming. Cas held her tightly while Dean ran a soothing hand across her back, and she wept openly for the first time since the Bad Place.

After that, things had returned to normal. Not normal for Claire, because all she had really known for the last few years was hunting, but the kind of normal where she didn’t have to kill monsters or worry that Sam and Dean were off getting themselves in trouble. There weren’t any monsters to hunt anymore, which left her feeling empty and useless for months. Kaia had pulled her out of that, like Kaia always did, and they decided to travel across the country and see the places they had never been able to enjoy before. It was freeing, to be on the open road, enjoying just being alive.

Claire and Kaia often passed through Kansas to visit Cas, Dean, and Jack at their house on the lake or to swing by the bunker to see Sam and Eileen. They never missed a birthday, wedding, or big event. Which is how they found themselves back in Kansas, Jody had called to let them know everyone was getting together for a housewarming party for Sam and Eileen. Her and Kaia had been in Memphis, enjoying barbecue and Blues, so the drive wasn’t too much of a hassle.

“Earth to blondie,” Kaia says, snapping Claire back to the present. “Are we going inside anytime soon? I’m starving, babe.”

Claire clears her throat, “Yeah, sorry. Lost in my head.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She looks into Kaia’s eyes, the usual soft brown painted with worry, and smiles in hopes it will ease her girlfriend’s concern, “No, I’m good, just overthinking. Let’s go eat.”

Kaia gives her a tentative smile, wrapping her hand around Claire’s and pulling her in for a chaste kiss.

They approach the front door, Claire raises her hand to knock but before her knuckles make contact the door swings open, revealing Sam with a grin spread across his face. He quickly wraps them both up in a hug and pulls them inside the loud and lively house. Claire and Kaia congratulate him on the house before breaking away to greet Jody, Donna, Alex, and Patience.

After hugs are exchanged and road trip updates are given, Claire slips away to the kitchen for a drink and Kaia heads toward Cas and Eileen who are clearly gossiping in ASL in the far corner of the living room.

Claire yanks open the fridge and helps herself to a beer, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink before propping herself against the counter.

“Hello Claire,” Jack says happily from where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, Claire hadn’t even noticed him when she first came in.

“Jack, jeeze, you scared me.”

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen me.” Jack responds, his hands wrapped around a can of root beer.

“Yeah, I guess I was a little lost in thought.” She says, turning her head toward the door where the sound of Dean’s laughter is filtering through.

There’s a pause then, as Claire contemplates how she ended up here, with this ragtag group of former hunters, angels, and a witch that she calls family. It’s weird, she had always expected her dad to show back up one day and make their family whole again, back when she was young and naive. It’s even weirder, she thinks, that this band of misfits has become a better image of family than she could ever imagine to have with her mother and father. Claire had come to think of herself as a combination of Novak-Winchester-Mills-Hanscum for quite some time now, content to be part of this chosen family.

She still missed her mom and dad, from time to time, wondered what life would have been like if they had stayed with her. Claire never let herself spend too long on that path, knowing that if things had been different she would have never known Jody or Alex, she would never have known Cas, or Sam and Dean, she never would have fallen in love with Kaia. She has a family now; she found a mother in Jody and Donna, Castiel and Dean became her kind-of dads, Sam and Eileen the closest thing she has to an uncle and aunt, Alex and Patience are her sisters, Jack her brother. It’s weird and mismatched, but it’s hers and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Claire,” Jack says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “You seem troubled.”

Claire flashes him a watery smile, suddenly overcome with affection for her perfectly messed up family, “Actually the opposite.”

Jack smiles back at her, a gap-toothed goofy grin, “Oh, I thought you were upset.”

She pushes herself away from the counter, abandoning her beer on the stone surface, and makes her way over to Jack. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Claire, anything.” Jack says, his head tilting up slightly to lock eyes with Claire, who is standing close enough that she’s marginally taller than Jack sitting down.

Claire pulls Jack into a hug, wrapping her arms so tightly around him that her ribs ache, “I love you.”

Jack slowly loops his arms around Claire, resting his cheek against her shoulder, “I love you, too.”

She lets out a wet laugh, giving Jack one final squeeze before pulling away.

“Well,” A gruff voice says from the doorway. “Isn’t that just a sight for sore eyes.”

Claire whips her head around to find Dean lounging against the doorframe, his face soft with a bit of fondness in his eyes.

“Hello Dean,” Jack says, his face still twisted up in a goofy grin.

Dean stalks forward into the kitchen, quickly wrapping the two up in a warm embrace and pressing a kiss to the top of their heads. He pulls away just as quickly as he pulled them in, locking eyes with Claire and giving her a look that conveys all the words he can’t say out loud.

“Jack helped me get a bunch of Sammy’s baby pictures scanned onto a CD and I’m gonna put ‘em up on the TV for everyone, you don't wanna miss it.” Dean says, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

She laughs, “Sounds mortifying, I can’t wait to see Sam’s face.”

“C’mon,” He says, jerking his head toward the living room before turning and heading out the door.

Claire watches him and Jack disappear into the other room, smiling to herself as she snatches up her beer and heads into the chaos. Cas, Kaia, and Eileen are still deep in conversation. Jody and Donna are whispering quietly to each other on the other side of the room. Rowena, Patience, and Alex are pressed together on the couch, a martini glass dangling from Rowena’s hand as she gestures wildly, obviously recounting an insane tale as the other women listen with rapt attention.

She slides in next to Sam, who is leaning against the stairway railing, eyeing Jack and Dean with suspicion as they fiddle with the disc player next to the TV.

“This is a great house, Sammy.”

Sam looks down at her, smiling slightly, “It’s not bad, but it’s the people who really make it home.”

Claire returns his smile, then turns back to the scene in front of her; all her favorite people, the people she loves most in the world, gathered in one room.

Dean always says, family don’t end with blood, something his own stand-in father, Bobby, used to tell him. Claire never met Bobby, but she thinks he might have been onto something.

#spnwomenweek #they are a big family!!!#writing in claire’s pov is new to me so i hope i did her justice #claire novak #spn #supernatural

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 4 years ago

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Hello! I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfy but I was wondering if I could get a bit of advice? From your recent posts, you said you left your home from toxicity and just bad things in general.

I’m in a similar situation, but my dad will be taking me away from my mom. And I just know it’ll be a shit show. And I’m absolutely terrified when we tell her and what the backlash will be afterwards towards my brothers and me and dad in general

How did you do it? How did you take the leap? Do you possibly have any advice on how to deal ?

Hello, friend!! ☀️

Thank you so much for reaching out, it means a lot that you value my advice <3

Hmm, okay from what I can tell of your situation, that is indeed a tricky one, but nothing can’t be overcome!

It’s important to remember, though, I was 19 when I left (now 20), so the way I handled things is going to be a lot different than how a minor can handle things (legally at least, feel free to replicate my insane stunts lmao)

Advice below the cut! (family violence trigger warning, I suppose?)

My entire family was and is extremely volatile, and I don’t speak to any of them anymore except for my older brother, but I’ll be cutting him off in 3 weeks too when I move.

Fortunately, my dad and brother were both kicked out of the house years ago due to violence, which left me with my mother, who’s quite insidious herself (just watch any Conjuring movie and that’ll give a good idea of what it was like living in that house lol)

I get the same feeling watching this scene as when I was around her in that house. Granted she didn’t try to change my gender, but the hatred for my father getting taken out on me is pretty accurate lol, paired with the immediate “motherly love” afterwards (she never hit me though, pleased to say — she wasn’t physically violent, just emotionally, financially, mentally and verbally. She did try to run my dad over once though, so, there’s that too)

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Yikes…yeahh the same eerie feeling for sure, still makes all my hairs stand upright in memory.

(For further context this clip reminds me of my father and this one of my brother)

In the clip about my father, he definitely reminds me of Frank Gallagher, except he despises my mother instead of revering her. He’s a workaholic instead of a drug addict, too. But the mannerisms are the same. I always handled him in the way Fiona does.

Regarding my brother, I think everything about our family hit him the hardest, despite being the oldest. He developed a very violent streak, and has very poor impulse control. I love him dearly but he’s a snake in the grass, and has thrown me under the bus multiple times to get ahead in life. I mostly just pity him, since I know what our life was like growing up. But still, I can’t defend him forever, especially not at the cost of myself. Literally yesterday I woke up to a text from him asking me to come pick him up because he got arrested for starting a fight at a bar and smashing their windows.

When things started getting pretty bad with my mother earlier this year, I started to realise in my heart that there was no way I could go forth in life with her in it. I focused on the future relationships I would have one day when far away from this town — romantic partner, children, friends etc

I sort of realised one day I’d care about them a lot more than I care about my mother, because those future people would care about me. That in turn got me realising that I do deserve love, despite how my mother made me feel, and that I don’t want her to deprive another second of that in my life.

Something very unique that triggered this too was going to go visit an old family psychic, who’s basically just the Gandalf to my Frodo (ily, Chris <3). He very accurately predicted my birth years ago after my mother was told she was infertile — he got the date, year and time right three years in advance, and even knew ahead of time what my personality would be like, which he was spot-on about.

Well, I went and visited him a few months ago because I was lost with my direction, and he ended up pausing and had a sudden feeling, which led to him telling me that he’d just found out I would be having twin boys one day.

Normally I don’t buy into that stuff, but this Gandalf dude…well I knew he was right.

Knowing I’d have sons of my own one day took me from a scared daughter mindset and into a maternal mother bear in an instant, and I knew I didn’t want any children of mine around my mother or the rest of my family, for their safety alone, which made me realise, “Well, if I wouldn’t allow my own children near them, why do I allow myself?”

I started grey-rocking her in the lead-up to me leaving, which of course frustrated her (she’s a malignant narcissist), but it was a necessary step to start emotionally detaching myself from her.

It all bottled over one night after a pretty distressing argument (I had locked myself in my room to avoid it, but she was still at my door carrying on).

My cat, who’s been my best friend for years, was sitting on the floor next to me, and sort of looked up and I swear he spoke with his eyes, saying, “You know we can’t keep doing this, right? You know this abuse has an expiry date?”

I agreed with my cat and knew right then and there that I’d be leaving that night after my mother fell asleep.

Well, when she was finally done (with threats that there’d be more in stock in the morning, mind you) I went to bed early and set my alarm to 3am (was a little inside joke with myself, since that’s biblically the “witching devil hour”)

I started quietly packing my quilt and cat up (I’d already been secretly packing the boot of my car up with all sentimental and important items weeks in advance, except she caught on and took all my baby albums and more to her boyfriend’s house, so I don’t have any baby photos or information on me when I was a baby anymore, like first words, size and just general things I’d have liked to compare to my own kids one day, rip)

Once that was all in my car, I quietly said goodbye to the old family dog and cat (they weren’t mine to take, not that I could’ve anyways, since it was troubling enough taking Buddy, who’s actually my pet and not the family one). That was pretty heartbreaking, as I knew that’d be the last time I’d see them (I grew up with them and was the only one who took care of them — mother neglects kids and pets alike lmao).

Once that was over, I looked around my house with my hand on the front door and was very melancholy, but knew Buddy was right: it had all reached its expiry date.

I left very quietly and drove to McDonalds for a coffee, as I had a long drive ahead (I had organised to be a nanny in this rich family’s house far away in the city — two hours drive). Luckily they were away on their country farm 4 hours away, so I had time to sneak Buddy in.

The nanny thing recently backfired horribly because they discovered Buddy, which led to more AM escapes with my car, but I’m staying with my older brother and his gf for 3 more weeks only. Something I’ve been working towards for months now is moving to a wilderness island to live in my country’s equivalent of Bag End — a beautiful country cottage, amazing job and fantastic study opportunities.

Best feature yet: it’s 60 hours away from my hometown by car, and then you’d have to take a boat for 10 more hours!! They shall never find me hahaha

One of my friends has also told me recently that my mother has started spreading horrible, defamatory rumours about me around town, but I don’t care anymore because I’m almost out.

So, although I can’t offer any practical advice (idk if you’re a minor or not, but regardless it’s great your dad is helping you!) this is the best advice I can offer:

Find a dream and hold onto it, one that doesn’t involve your immediate family. For me it’s moving to that island and enjoying all the fresh air. It’ll push you forwards and remind you of what you’re fighting for when at your lowest.

Remind yourself there will be other people in your life, whether a spouse, friends, children or even a dog! (I’m getting a golden retriever next year 🐾) And then remember that you deserve all of them and the unconditional love they offer you.

Remember that if you don’t want your mother/family screwing those people over by proxy of her/their relationship to you, then there’s no way in hell you alone should put up with it either, as I guarantee those future people only want good things for you ☀️

There is a good life after abuse, I’ve seen it, and I know you can achieve it, too!

Be prepared for tons of backlash and bullshit — it’s inescapable when dealing with people like this, but I recommend educating yourself on narcissistic parents and tactics to deal with them.

Finding a good therapist who deals in PTSD regarding childhood abuse is important, too. I found an amazing one in the town I’m moving to, who had nearly the same upbringing as me!

So while I’m still struggling with a lot of fear (scared my mother will find where I’m working and living one day) and guilt (I feel horrible about leaving the family dog and cat behind, especially when they need veterinary help, only to then go and get myself another puppy) I understand I’ve done the best I can in a very abnormal situation, and that I can only do better from here.

Also, this song has been a saving grace when going all angsty over wanting to leave your current situation:

It’s from my favourite Broadway Musical, “Newsies”, and lemme tell you — discovering this as a 17-year-old when I was just starting to realise the severity of my situation was pure divinity.

Jeremy Jordan, my beloved Broadway Bard <3

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When I finally get my cottage, I’m getting a wooden plaque with the name “Santa Fe” engraved on it, and am hanging it on my front door.

I wish you much luck and love, my little anonymous friend! And please know my inbox is open any time you need anything — vent, advice, a laugh or something else, ANYTHING, it feels good to know my past can maybe help someone else’s present ☀️

Please update me, too! I’m following your story along ardently now! (Also, be sure to take your sentimental items and store them somewhere safe away from your mother — ie baby albums, birth certificates, other paraphernalia/memorabilia etc).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must hit the road. DESTINY AWAITS!

#ahh yes #Newsies my beloved <3 #and bless my family Gandalf #I’m gonna send him a gift next year from the small country town I’m moving to for his birthday as a thanks #also I’m torn between naming the golden retriever ‘Jaskier/Dandelion’ or ‘Glorfindel/Glorfy’ now #so happy that’ll soon be my only dilemma in life <33

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