#god i honestly just hope something is very seriously wrong physically and i can just like. die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

versadies · 3 years

Note

Hey hey!! I've been following you for a while now and I love your work sm aaa

Saw the event, I love soulmate au's 😩‼ as a gemini, may I request a gemini prompt + kaeya? Up to you who the enemy is, I trust you ^ ^

-🦚 @pavo-ocell-me

someday, one day (hc scenario)

penpal: omg hi !! im glad u love my work, i hope this is to ur liking 🙌

prompt: gemini the twins, enemy-lover soulmate au

pairing/s: kaeya x gn!reader

sypnosis: when you thought he was your enemy but is actually your lover.

includes: spoilers on diluc and kaeya's backstory, spoilers on genshin's official webtoon, violence, physical pain, burns, arguing, enthusiastic!diluc (pls take note that its canon that he USED to be like all the other pyro characters b4 his father's death.),

when you first met diluc, it felt like he was your knight in shining armor.

the first time you two met was when you accidentally fell down from your balcony after leaning too much on the railing and diluc managed to catch you bridal-style whilst he was on patrol around the city as a knight.

it truly was romantic– and a near-death experience for you.

so when you found out that his name is imprinted on your wrist, you felt ecstatic, and so did he.

since then, you two were known as the youngest soulmates who had found each other in mondstadt, people admiring your relationship with envy and happiness.

of course, you and diluc were a happy couple. although you would be lying if you said diluc is overall your type, you managed to find yourself falling in love with the man.

when crepus, diluc's father, found out about diluc's once-in-a-lifetime moment, he simply laughs and pats you and his son by your backs with a proud smile.

"by the time my son turns 18, we better make arrangements of your wedding! it's a ragnvindr tradition, after all." he comments eagerly. you honestly weren't sure if the man was joking or not.

it didn't take long before you meet his dear brother, kaeya.

when you find out his brother's name is the same as the one that's imprinted on your other wrist, being surprised is far from your reaction.

"don't worry about it, y/n." diluc reassures you one night as the two of you stroll around the city together. "i'll make sure nothing will go wrong between you and my brother. besides, you always have me, right?"

if diluc hadn't tried what he said, perhaps things would've gone differently than now.

in fear of being enemies with your future brother-in-law, you decided to avoid kaeya like a plague, giving the young man apologetic looks whenever you walk away from his presence.

as much as you're avoiding the man, you couldn't imagine hating on kaeya. every night, you always think of what can make kaeya your enemy. what is there to hate him? he's funny, chivalrous, everything that screams your type of men.

wait.. type?

your heart drops from the moment you started thinking romantic things about diluc's brother, looking behind you to see your soulmate sleeping soundly with a frown plastered on your face.

is diluc really your lover?

doubts started to cross your mind. what if diluc isn't your soulmate? what is there to prove that kaeya is your enemy? are you just overthinking things?

"i can't think about this." you murmured to yourself, pulling up your comforter before laying back down on your bed and try to fall asleep.

"i have a wedding to worry about next year."

just as you said, you did try not to think about the possibilities you have with the two brothers, distracting yourself with tasks and dates with your lover, who's quite oblivious to your problems going on inside your head.

unnoticed by you, you weren't the only one who has been burdened with your thoughts.

by the time diluc's birthday has arrived, the two of you started to get excited from your future wedding, excited to finally marry each other after years of spending your adolescence together.

you didn't expect an inconvenience during diluc and crepus's trip.

you didn't expect crepus trying to save diluc from a monster using something that no one but snezhnaya has ever heard of.

you didn't expect crepus asking diluc to put him out of his misery.

you didn't expect diluc to come strolling back to your shared home with blood stained in his clothing at a late hour.

you never, ever, expected your lover to fight his own brother when he took a visit.

and you did not expect your lover to plan on leaving you and everyone.

"what do you mean you're... you're leaving?" you ask in disbelief, staring at diluc as though he has two heads. "can't i go with you–?"

"no, this journey will be too dangerous for you–"

"this applies to you as well! you're not an immortal or some god–"

"i can do this on my own, y/n." he says with his eyes narrowed. you couldn't help but scoff in disbelief. this isn't the diluc you know and loved.

"but diluc.. isn't this too much? your father... i know crepus's death is too much but, why can't you stay?" you whispered, cupping his cheeks. "what about our wedding? the life you and i planned after your bi–"

"my father died and you're seriously thinking about our wedding?!" diluc forces your hands away from his face, glaring at you. "why can't you understand that i'm trying to find out the truth on this delusion–"

"i do understand!" you yelled out. "i do understand that you want to do this for him but what about monstadt? the knights? what about your brother–"

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" he yelled, lashing out at you as you screamed in surprise when you saw fire in front of you, immediately covering your face with your arms out of reflex.

you didn't notice how your lover's eyes widens on what he did,

you couldn't notice him, not when you're too focused on the huge burns on your arms.

"oh my god..." diluc murmurs, slowly taking a few steps back as he takes a look of what he did, ignoring the sudden presence of adelaide and elzer, who both gasped from the scene.

your eyes starts to water from the intense pain, trying not to cry out and scream your heart out in fear of making your lover feel regret. you could honestly care less on what diluc is doing, all you could think about was the intense burns from your arms.

suddenly, the door was slammed open by kaeya– who was wet from the rain outside.

"what the hell did you do to them?!" kaeya exclaims, running towards you with a shocked look on his face. "i'll take you to the cathedral alright? the sisters will heal you." he whispers, wiping off the tears from your face as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and takes you towards the doors.

before diluc could let out a word from his mouth, kaeya gives him a glare.

"you may hate me for what happened," kaeya says.

"but for celestia's sake, don't ever come to them or call them your lover ever again."

that was the last time you saw diluc.

you eventually find out from the chattering nuns that the man had already left monstadt with no news of when he'll return, causing everyone to pity you and for diluc about what happened.

you were thankful that no one except the nuns found out about the incident of your arms.

throughout your stay in the cathedral, you usually find kaeya beside you, keeping an eye on you with a concerned look on his face. you honestly couldn't imagine what would've happened if the man didn't storm inside dawn winery. would diluc actually try to help you later on and leave? would you have suffered more with your injuries as he stands by watching you in disbelief?

whatever outcome you could think of, your heart ached from them all.

would diluc stayed had he been the one who tries to take care of your injuries?

either way, you knew the man is no longer the one you fell in love with from those years ago.

as years grew by, so did your friendship with kaeya.

although it was awkward from the start, you eventually warmed up to the man who you thought is your enemy, feeling more comfortable with him than before.

the two of you started having careers by then, with you having a successful career whilst kaeya becomes the calvary captain of the knights of favonius.

although the two of you are busy, you agreed to always meet each other at night in angel's share, where you drink the night away and talk about anything that comes out of your minds.

there wasn't a day when you thought about diluc.

thankfully, your burns weren't too severe and is slowly fading away throughout the years. but that doesn't mean the memories you had from it disappeared as well.

ever since that dreadful night, you started having nightmares about the incident, always finding yourself sitting up from your bed with a scared look on your face.

you wished you didn't want to see diluc this way, but you honestly couldn't bare to face him if he ever comes back to the city.

you don't see him as a lover or a friend. all he is to you at this very moment is your nightmare.

your nightmares simply washes away when kaeya comes up in your mind.

whenever you think about your so-called destined enemy, you felt comforted and safe. it was understandable really! you were touched by how he took care of you regardless of you being his "enemy".

however... now that you could think about it, the calvary captain has a lot more common with you than diluc himself. the fact that his brother made you laugh a lot and supported you in many ways made you started thinking that maybe diluc really isn't your destined lover.

your heart skips a beat from the thought of kaeya being your true lover, the smile you wore never fading away.

perhaps when you're finally starting to move on from the relationship you had with diluc, maybe... just maybe, kaeya could be the one you've been hoping for.

you started to sleep more peacefully, excited for the future that awaits.

somewhere in the calvary captain's home, the man is dreaming and hoping of you too.

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fireemblems24 · 2 years

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Azure Moon - Final

Of all the routes I'm finishing, this one is by far the hardest to say goodbye too. Which is why I saved it for last. Also, Three Hopes and the DLC, so it's not really over yet!

More in-depth reviews and etc coming later. Below is just my thoughts while I played the last two chapters of AM.

Ok, so this is different from the other routes. I had another week AND I picked who I married before any cut scenes.

Also different in that Byleth, here at least, is allowed to say something negative about Edelgard. A breath of fresh air.

I will get to still pick who I marry, right? I didn't miss that. Because by God if I missed that for Dimitri . . .

It's been a while Edelgard.

I still can't believe Dimitri really went and is trying to solve this with diplomacy and understanding. We stan a King, guys.

Holy, shit, yes, Dimitri, preach "there had to be a way to change things in your territory without so many senseless casualties."

Edelgard - War leads to the least amount of casualties, duh. I mean, who wouldn't agree. It's not like war is literally the worst.

Did she seriously just say - ah, yes, the least bloody way to fix the Empire is conquering everyone else and war.

I get that her argument is that the longer she didn't put everyone under her control, the more people would've died, so her war killed less in the long run. Someone doesn't know much about war.

Edelgard really out here playing God, hunh.

Dimitri ain't wrong that Edelgard is a bit too gung-ho about her war. And, of course, she's deaf to the victims. If it's anything like CF, there isn't any acknowledgement of any victims. They might as well not exist except to make Edelgard the main victim of the war.

"You cannot change the cycle of the strong dominating the weak with a method like that."

Preach, Dimitri.

Don't get me wrong, I love a good "conqueror the world for it's own good" character, but damn it's nice to see the hypocrisy pointed out. Those characters are only ever interesting and good if there's a counterpoint and not CF's sanctification of Edelgard.

I think Edelgard really means to destroy the bad systems. I think she honestly believes she's the only one who can make those changes. I also think she's dumb as a box of rocks if she doesn't realize her "boostraps" like mentality isn't just going to increase her divide, and that the world she's creating will have just as many victims and not be conducive to a true post-war recovery.

Holy shit, Edelgard sounds like Fox News. "If after all of this you believe the weak will still be weak, that is only because they are too used to relying on others instead of on themselves."

That really is truly only two steps away from "welfare queens" and the poor are poor because they "don't work hard enough" and the rich are rich because "they just work that much harder."

"But you cannot force that belief onto others." Is really the crux of my issue with Edelgard's plan.

"There are those who cannot live without their faith . . . and those who cannot go one once they have lost their reason for living." - It's too bad he didn't just straight-up say - "What about mental illness, Edelgard? Or physical handicaps? Or people born uber poor? What are they supposed to do in your world?"

I'm betting Edelgard fans hate this conversation lol. It's the only time in the whole game so far that challenges Edelgard's convictions and points out all the problems with it.

"It is the path of the strong and could only benefit the strong." - 100% true.

Honestly, the BEST combination would be Edelgard + Dimitri, where she's busting big bad systems up, and he's there to make sure the new government takes care of its people rather than uses them.

I don't think Edelgard understands the importance of faith to a lot of people. It's not really about "the goddess" answering your problems. Most religions are very specific that they can't treat prayer/meditation/etc as a wish machine. It's more about finding comfort in the idea that there's a system to this universe, that there's someone or something out there dictating what's right and wrong, that there's something after death. It's not really about expecting everything you pray for to be answered the way you want, but about finding some way to accept that "everything happens for a reason" to help you get through rough things. That, if you're suffering, that there's a larger point to it all.

Interesting how she claims she's fighting for the silent and weak too. I don't see how though, since she expects them to magically not be weak anymore.

"The ones who can truly change the way of the world are not the rulers, but the people." - I firmly 100% believe the only stable change is one that's wanted by the majority and is often generational.

"Pushing your own sense of justice and your own ideals onto even one other person is nothing more than self-righteousness." - Again, 100% agree with Dimitri here.

Edelgard's not wrong either that for things to change, someone has to take action. But why THAT action?

It's really too bad there's no ending where these two meld their ideals together. But I'm betting Edelgard isn't willing to work with anyone else (unlike Rhea, Claude, and Dimitri who have all worked together in one route or another).

Why is Edelgard talking about high borns vs the poor??? Dimitri was just talking about people in general. And didn't he live on the run for like 5 years? Edelgard's way more removed from the poor than he is.

Like, why is she still going to fight him? Why not just work WITH him?

Ohhhh is this the dagger?

Yep, guessed it right.

So she's remembering him now.

Aww, baby Dimitri and Edelgard are so cute.

If only Rhea got this treatment in CF that Edelgard's getting in AM. It would've made CF soooooo much better.

Dimitri gonna regret those words he told Edelgard when she decides the future she's cutting through involves killing him lamo.

Edelgard's like WTF, this guy I've been trying to kill since the paralogue is that guy who inspired me to keep going?

Mannnn imagine an alternative storyline where she realizes who he is earlier on. The conflict and character development she missed out on :(

Man, this shit is tragic. I don't know how the same people who wrote this route wrote all the other ones.

I love how Byleth and Hubert just stood there saying nothing lamo.

OH THANK GOD, I get to pick who to marry.

This is the EASIEST choice of them all lol. Dimitri. 100%, Dimitri.

PRE-BATTLE & BATTLE #1

Maaan I'm so worried about how long this will get. Anyone who reads the whole thing, I'm amazed at your thoroughness.

Time to blast Enbarr's door down again lol.

LAMO Hubert again? I love him, but facing him is a meme at this point. How many times have I already toasted his ass?

Ugh, no, they split up my units again :( whyyyyyy Though is any route is suited for this, it's AM because Dimitri can take a whole area by himself.

Oh, I see Petra's back :( Bummed about killing her.

I really gotta question Edelgard here. A combined force of the Kingdom, Alliance, and Church is invading her innermost city area, but she still won't work with Dimitri and would rather keep trying to fight him? Even after she heard him out?

Why did Hubert call Dimitri the Savior King? I love that title though.

God, I love Hubert. He just owns it, you know?

Alright - time to fight.

Ingrid is such a queen - no one can touch her + mages can't hurt her anyways. She's like Dedue, but for mages.

"War is for the wealthy. We don't even have enough to eat." - when the random enemy thief's line about war hits harder than all of CF.

Petra was NOT easy to kill. All the fast ones (Dimitri, Petra, Catherine, pegasus knights, assassins) are the hardest to kill in this game.

Dimitri can one-shot Hubert. And by that I don't mean "single turn" I mean single hit.

Dimitri gave Hubert a chance to surrender :(

Why did Hubert say Dimitri had a "silver tongue?"

Man, Dimitri went into overkill with a crit. Poor Hubert.

Dimitri MVP. Not surprised.

POST BATTLE & BATTLE 2

See it's lines like this "there is to be no needless killing or pillaging, understand?" That made me wonder if one route mentions that sentiment more than another or if there's a different vibe or what not.

See, THIS is what was missing from CF. A place where the whole trope stands around and says their lines, even if they don't contribute much, it just feels so epic, you know?

I just love this group all so much: Dedue (swearing to Dimitri), Annette (being so chiper), Ingrid (being the badass knight she is), Mercie (praying for everyone), Ashe (awww, he's so proud to be a citizens of Faerghus in AM and CF, I think I'm over his stunt in VW and SS now. I love you), Sylvain (encouraging everyone, and I don't think I've mentioned this much but he's so fucking hot),

FELIX 😭 supporting Dimitri 😭😭 He even called him a "boar" but it's not an insult anymore 😭😭😭

Dimitri and the Blue Lions are just so 😭😭😭

Oh, so here's Edelgard - "It's far too late to second guess." Edelgard, I'm 100% sure if you surrendered now, Dimitri would make peace with you. It's actually not too late.

It's that hellbeast from FEH. I have PTSD from that thing. This version is wayyyy uglier. Not surprised. I got so tired of that in FEH.

Man, I love these images in between chapters. They all look so cool.

I'm betting we're not fighting TWSITD in this route either? But I think we accidentally already killed their leader so . . .

This route didn't have that giant bomb go off too. Does anyone know why? Like is it just "because plot" or some actual reason?

Edelgard HAS to know she's going to lose. Is it really just "kill everyone or die?" for her??

More Blue Lions imput 😭😭

Dedue is so loyal. I love him 😭😭😭 Felix being so supportive.

Guys we're so spoiled. Everyone gets two pep talks to say their bit.

Yep, it's that FEH thing.

"There can only be one ruler of the world." LAMO Edelgard. She is a bit of a my way or death kinda person.

That awful dubstep again though, make it go away.

Alright, guys, time for my last chapter in this whole thing. Let's go!

Holy shit! What is that range Edelgard has????

I take it Myson is TWSITD? And WTF is with that spell he has? How come I never got that. Anyways, Stride + Dimitri's a bitch and he's gone.

By "beasts" does he mean humans, Nabeteans, or all of the above?

OMG they all retreated LAMO. That makes things easier. Well, not all of them, but a few, nice. And mostly mages too, that makes my life easier.

Yikes, that first hit blasted poor Mercie hard.

Did Edelgard really just say "Facing you, I grow weak?" To Byleth?? They really went hard core pandering with her, hunh. Anyways, she had a 0, 0, 0 on Byleth so I'm far less intimidated.

Alright guys, Edelgard's going down. First Felix took one of her lives out, then Sylvain, then Byleth, now Dimitri for the final. She's going out in one round, though I think only SS took me longer? Maybe CF, but that's because I had no crutch characters there.

Yo, Dimitri telling Edelgard she deserves no compassion because she would rather turn herself into a demon than compromise. Seems a bit at odds with the rest of what he's said, tbh, but I get the sentiment.

He did a critical and took her out in one blow.

And we're done! Only 11 turns. Lol, Everyone just really loves their criticals in the Blue Lions. I also think those dudes retreating helped.

Dimitri MVP. No surprises there.

POST BATTLE & Wrap-Up

Cut scene, for some reason, I always forget lol.

So Edelgard's back to her legendary unit self.

Dimitri's giving her ANOTHER chance to surrender? He's wayyy more forgiving than I'd ever be.

And . . . she threw her dagger at him. Kinda a dick move there.

Byleth not letting Dimitri look back 😭😭😭 That's kinda sweet.

Alright, let's see the final picture for Dimitri.

Ugh, whhyyy the unification. But Rhea! Lives! Good!

I think I see Byleth and Dedue in that ending mural 😭😭😭

I love that mural. It's so happy after everything.

S-Support time!! Let's see if Dimitri can prove me wrong that the men won't be as lovey dovey as the women.

Two insomniacs in love (seriously, who sleeps a healthy amount in this game??)

He's apologizing for making Byleth work so much 😭😭😭 Did anyone else? I'd have to check.

"Do no worry about me" - a summary of Dimitri.

And yikes, that hit left Dimitri numb? Like permanently? Can't this game cut him ANY slack??

Uh, oh, he just so awkwardly switched to romantic shit lamo.

"How many years has it been since I was kept awake by hopes for the future, rather than by nightmares of the past . . ." Dimitri stop..... 😭😭😭😭

He really has Survivor's Guilt 101 😭😭

Geeze, I can't imagine hearing voices in my head like that.

They're still there 😭😭😭 I guess that's more realistic, and better than Byleth made it go away.

It's actually . . . really cool, I think, that he didn't just get "cured." Like, he's still hearing those voices, but found a way to deal with them, and have hope and happiness anyways. That's pretty inspiring, actually.

"But I wish to change this world in my own way." Yes, we stan a King, guys.

Oh shiiiittt Dimitri let that "My beloved" slip didn't he. LAMO.

Ohhh I like this confidence on him, not getting all blushy. Good for him. He's grown up a bit lol.

Ah, he's giving me his ring too, isn't he. And NOW he's blushing. Good.

"If you do not wish to accept it, please just tell me." Absolutely no way I'd say no lol.

Ahahahah, she popped the ring too. Good for her. Just like Rhea.

It's so fucking cute when they both have rings.

Wow, that is not subtle "I love you, Dimitri. Marry me."

Yeah, ok, maybe just Claude's the most unromantic person in the game, because this shit's romantic.

And he's talking about her hands again 😭😭😭 Guys, I'm a sucker for shit like this. OMG

How did I end up adding Sylvix and Dimileth into my "I legitimately ship it now" in the last few chapters of different routes.

And his picture isn't half bad. Poor Edelgard, though, WTF was that? Rhea, Claude, and Dimitri all looked fine.

OMG it's almost done, now just for the MVP list and paired endings.

Lots of trading around at first, then Dimitri takes over. So far it's been: Dimitri, Ingrid, Sylvain, Felix, Byleth, and Dedue who all got MVP at least a few times. With Dimitri getting it the most by far. Towards the end, it was Felix only once, rest of the time Dimitri.

OK, paired endings, like for the others, not going to say much about ones I've gotten before.

So ones that were basically the same: Anna solo, Cyril solo, Alois solo, Manuela solo, Hanneman solo, Flayn solo, Lorenz Solo,

Shamir solo, she becomes a Robin Hood, I like it lol.

Catherine and Rhea became lesbians together. 😭😭 Good for them. Catherine finally scored.

Bernie Solo - poor girl regressed :(

Caspar Solo - he basically did the same thing, but without Linhardt :(

Linhardt Solo - so he did research for the rest of his life. It suites him.

Gilbert Solo - Dimitri has a baby 😭😭😭 And he managed to stay and serve the realm this time. Good for him.

Ferdinand and Dorothea - They had babies too 😭😭 So cute. And Ferdinand went on to be a good leader, and Dorothea got the power to help the common folk. Not a bad ending.

YES! Raphael and Marrianne - I wanted this one! OK, but that ending was kinda lame though. It's all about Raphael and Marianne just talks to birds in it. Though, at least she seems happy.

Ashe and Annette - That's a cute couple, not gonna lie. But again, it's alllll about the dude, though at least here Annette gets to help the realm and write a book.

Ingrid and Seteth - Aw yeah, she became a knight. Good for her. So they both helped out Fodlan (Faerghus and the Church) and married (I mean, they did) much later on. I'm glad Seteth found someone. And way to go Ingrid for getting equal billing in a paired ending, if not the ending being mostly her story and how Seteth was also there.

Does this mean Felix and Sylvain got together - AGAIN? And Mercedes and Dedue (pleaseohpleaseohplease)?

YESSSSS Mercie and Dedue. They are so cute together. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 OMG That ending. I can't. It's perfect. They open a school together and restore Duscur culture. 😭😭😭😭😭 This might be my favorite one of all of them.

But, shit, I don't want Felix and Sylvain to get together. The last time was HORRIBLE. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't EXTREMELY curious to see how this goes, since Felix's endings have been so depressing so far.

Yep, Felix and Sylvain, lol, 😭😭😭😭😭 That's SOOOOOO much better. OMG. That's fucking hurts after seeing how it went in CF with Sylvain bringing up that they were supposed to die together and then in AM they actually do 😭😭😭😭😭 OK, ok, I 100% get Sylvix now. I'm converted. OMG I'm so happy Felix got a good ending.

So now for Dimitri and Byleth. Dimitri has 524 victories lol. I abused that boy.

Their ending is pretty sweet, not gonna lie. I think it's funny they mentioned the separation of work and marriage life. I can almost see someone in the writer's room going - but people will shit on them for this! - and adding that. That part of them going riding together and being desperately in love. It hurts, guys. 😭😭😭😭

OMG! I'm done! I finally finished 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I can play Animal Crossing again (I banned myself until I finished this lol) And the DLC!

I don't know when I'll get to the DLC, but I will. I'll probably wait a few weeks, but I know I'm going to want to come back to this game.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #azure moon #blue lions #fe16 #fe3h

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skiller0dani · 3 years

Text

Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you

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diavolosthots · 3 years

Note

Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.

I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊

For request

First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.

If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!

I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.

Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!

(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)

Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut

Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish

THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)

Lucifer:

Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.

“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”

Mammon:

Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.

“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.

Leviathan:

His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.

“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”

Satan:

For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes

“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”

Asmodeus:

How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.

“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”

Beelzebub:

Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…

“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”

Belphegor:

Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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flanklurker · 3 years

Text

Valorant Protocol Roommate Headcanons

No-one fucken asked but I delivered. Cypher, Omen and Skye cause I love them, more coming probably. gn reader

Cypher

Tbh, something has to have gone very wrong for Cypher to have a roommate. Expect the first few weeks for him to be actively trying to drive you out.

Obnoxious tool noises, dark muttering and whirring at all hours, stink eyes across the room on the rare occasion he makes eye contact, you name it.

But what Brim says goes.

If by some miracle you’re on good terms to start with, you’re probably already familiar with some of his idiosyncrasies.

Once the initial shock has gone, Cypher is the kind of roommate that really depends on your lifestyle. He’s not one to have parties all the time, but you will have to be able to deal with lights and fidgeting into the small hours of the morning.

Would highly recommend learning Arabic, if only to enjoy the creativity of his cussing. “I hope you wake up before your alarm and all your toenails have been replaced with dollar store gemstones.” That shit hits different at 3am

Do not expect to see any of his work. You get the sense that the general vicinity is boobytrapped to the point of overkill

Any portraits you manage to glimpse are probably no longer a threat to the Protocol…

Sinister as Cypher can be, you can always rely on a poorly-timed quip to make you spit your drink

Memorise his coffee (milk and 1 according to fanon), and you are instantly bumped to the bottom of the ‘would kill if he had to’ list

You are also the first to know ALL the best gossip. Like, you know who’s got a thing for who before they do.

You catch a glimpse of him just once without the mask. Disarmingly handsome, with kind eyes that crinkle up at the corners. Maybe just maybe it wasn’t unintentional that you were shown something

Overall 9/10, very polite, know you would never be attacked in the dead of night unless you’d done something reaaaaaaally bad to piss your roommate off.

Omen

“I don’t need a room. Or a mate”

However bad Cypher is, this guy is worse. Luckily, he’s more of the type to ghost you than get you to leave. First couple of weeks, you don’t see this ghostly man AT ALL

Weirdly, the room has occasional signs of life, like folded laundry and bandages, and if you’re particularly observant, you might notice that the bed made slightly differently every morning

Eventually, you find his lurk on the roof. “Omen you have to stop doing this, I promise I won’t bite, and it can’t be comfortable spending all your time up here.

He disappears, but the next day you find him spending a little bit more time in the room.

Give it a couple of months, and the Renaissance of Omen is upon you. Expect baked goods, fresh flowers arranged on the table, freshly pressed linen and most importantly, the most elegant knitted scarves and blankets. Even for someone that physically doesn’t sleep, Omen is PROLIFIC man

Omen takes curating his space as a way of keeping him grounded. He moves noiselessly and doesn’t disturb the world around him, content to watch, and arrange, and chip away at his projects

How do you feel about cat hair?

“Omen, we can’t keep her. Phoenix is allergic” “Even better, he won’t snoop.” “Omen, we’re hardened killers-” “So is she.” “Where would we even… oh, you’ve already knitted her a bed” “Her name is Pyjama.” “Like, singular?” “Yes.”

It’s honestly like a wild sparrow landing on you the first time it happens—you have to hold your breath when you see Omen curled up on your shared couch, cat on lap gently batting the yarn as he knits a pastel blue beanie.

Legit? 11/10 roommate he’s a really pleasant ghostly man to be around, and you can sleep well knowing he’d never let anyone get close.

Skye

Speaking as an Aussie, fucken excellent. Like, god tier roommate

Day one, you know she’s a good find when she helps you move all your furniture.

“Mate, I can whack together a flatpack or two in no time, no wuckers.”

Three things guaranteed: -> A climber’s pull-up rig on the door -> The smell of eucalyptus and teatree and sweat, but not like unpleasant sweat -> Spiders

I hope you don’t mind spiders. “Mate, they’re just fucken daddy longlegs yeah? Harmless lil buggers, AND they keep the mosquitoes out. Pick one.”

Skye gets up EARLY for her runs. If you’re not careful, you’ll be roped in too. Don’t believe her when she says 20 minutes, she’s talking 20 minutes from when you reach the edge of known civilisation and not accounting for when you get lost bush-bashing

Gives good advice and is a great person to vent to. Always in your corner

Always signing up for those month fitness challenges. She’ll whack a yoga mat down and go into a plank while you’re on a briefing call, sweaty breathing and everything

Skye makes a MEAN plant-based steak burger. Like, whatever dark secrets she holds, probably better not to ask, but it tastes fucken amazing

She takes campfire duty SERIOUSLY. I’m talking blankets, marshmallows, beers, trivia games and a prize selection of novelty instruments and games

Always raring for an arm wrestle comp… I mean, with those guns can you blame her?

Okay, I say this with love, but she’s a screamer. If she’s bringing home a special someone and they get handsy, find another room for the night. Lowkey though, if she says ‘fucken join in then cvnt’, she means it

Will absolutely get into a Netflix series with you, no questions asked. WILL make you laugh at inappropriate times though fair warning.

I just love her so much I

10/10 daddy longlegs are great and so is Skye

#valorant #valorant headcanons #cypher #cypher valorant #omen #omen valorant #skye #skye valorant #valorant cypher #valorant omen #valorant skye #valorant protocol #lozcanons #thank u for reading the tags #am sorry we are but a smol blog we need the engagement #bro u tryna smash fr

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

bands | sixteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.0k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, angst, anxiety, alcohol consumption, slight intoxication, physical abuse, slight verbal abuse, belittling, mentions of cuts/wounds but nothing too graphic, mentions of coke

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos @un2-verse @aynsx @wearenot7withu @knjeuphoria @bringitseijoh (closed!)

Jungkook laid on the dorm couch, legs sprawled out as he wore his hood and covered his face as much as possible. He shut his eyes, trying to make sense of the cryptic texts you had sent him.

"We shouldn't do this anymore."

"I can't do this, Jungkook."

"You don't deserve this."

"I'm only trouble."

"We aren't going to work."

He repeatedly called you, asking for an explanation, a way to help make things better because none of this should have been the reason for you to want to call it 'quits' like that. He asked for you to talk to him. He'd call and after two rings, it'd bring him straight to voicemail. It never failed. Indeed, there was much more to the text but he only fixated on a few lines, and those few lines seem to be circling his head time and time again with no sign of leaving him alone.

"I think I'm falling in too deep and I need to stop this while I can. You hear them, you hear the shit they say. I would never let them ruin you, I don't want them to. You deserve better. Maybe it's true that I don't fit into this."

It frustrates him, every single time. Where the hell did he go wrong? Why was there a sudden change? Something was off, and god forbid if his assumptions were right. But, everything was leading right back to it. The way you called in sick, the way you shut everyone out. The way you texted him these things, wouldn't pick up his calls just to tell him you're busy or whatever the hell it was. It didn't sound like you. It didn't seem like you at all.

All things led right back to the club. To Bigs. Where you felt high and mighty. Wanted. Like no one could ever hurt you the way they did outside of the club because they worshipped you in there. They knelt down to you. The way you were so fucking tough there. He knew this is where you would fall back if things got rough. He couldn't help but think that you had been forced into it though, because he knew you didn't give a shit about that anymore. Ah well, forced or not, it just felt so off. Unusual.

"Hey." Namjoon sits on the floor near Jungkook's head. "You good?" He asks even though he's fully aware he's not. Joon hates those people who ask if something's wrong when clearly, something is wrong — however, he wasn't really sure how else to open up this conversation without coming off too pushy or forward. Too insensitive, even.

"Nope."

"What's going on?" Jungkook sighs as he tries to lower his hood even more, although there's no more of his hood to lower. He keeps his hand on his face, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

"I don't know." Now, going back to earlier — everyone can tell Jungkook isn't happy. They've tried to butter him up and make him feel better even though they knew you were the only person who could truly make him happy again. They've tried to talk to him in one way or another, but they never forced him if he didn't want to. The only person that really hasn't said much was Jimin, and that also pisses him off because if he had anything to do with this, he will surely fuck him up for ruining his happiness.

"You hear from Y/N? She still sick? Does she need anything?"

"She's not sick."

"Hm?" Joon slightly turns back, confused.

"Something else is wrong."

"Like what?"

"She's not picking up my calls. Not answering my texts the way she normally does. When she does, it's super blunt or one worded."

"Maybe she's really not feeling well, or just caught up with things—"

"No, hyung. I know her, she always has her priorities straight. Even if she was sick, she wouldn't do this. She wouldn't go as far as to shutting her own brother out."

"Idol life too overwhelming? I get it." Jimin jokes as he walks into the kitchen, making Jungkook shoot his head up to glare at him.

"The fuck, can you not? I don't see why you feel the need to joke around right now."

"Jeez, sorry. I just thought I'd lighten up the mood somehow."

"Come on, dude." Namjoon looks at him with disappointment, Jimin only returning the gesture by rolling his eyes and walking away. "How can I help you?" Joon asks, returning his attention back to Jungkook.

"Maybe I was being selfish bringing her into all of this. These people— they're fucking mean, and she's already had her fair share of dealing with mean people. How am I supposed to protect her all while not feeling selfish about it?"

"You're not selfish, who told you that?"

"Jimin." That's like strike.. whatever to Namjoon at this point. Why the hell was Jimin being so fucking weird?

"Look, I know it's not easy in this industry. But I think what you can do is prove to her that you won't hurt her, especially with everyone around her doing nothing but hurting her. You need to show her that you're different from the rest of them, that she can fully trust you. If I were in her shoes, to be honest, it would be scary for me. You got a whole lot of shit going on in your life. You're expected to provide a lot, and on top of that, you haven't had the best reputation with women."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Then, nothing else matters. You keep fighting for her if she really matters to you. Does she?"

"Of course she does, I mean, can't you tell? I've never been this way over someone." Joon nods.

"You sure as fuck haven't. It still catches me and the guys by surprise. But, I'm happy to see someone helping you become a better person. She's been nothing but genuinely sweet, and I know she already does a hell of a job taking care of you."

"She's— I don't know. She's become so important to me."

"I know she has, and I'm happy to hear that. I really am." Joon sighs. "So tell me, what can I do? I hate seeing you like this."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not allowed at the club. Bigs will do anything to get back at me for what I did to him. He won't hesitate."

"I won't let him. We won't. You really think she went back?" Jungkook nods.

"Positive. Something doesn't feel right. It feels weird. And I feel like she was egged into this. I don't like it one bit."

"Want me to go check out the club tonight?"

"Yeah, please?" Jungkook says. "But don't be too obvious. Bring Jin hyung or someone who could use a lap dance or two."

"Sooo Jin hyung?" They chuckle.

"Yeah, exactly."

"And if she's there?"

"Then I'm going straight to her tomorrow night. I just need to make sure I do this right because I don't want her or Kai to get hurt. I'll stay out there if I have to just to make sure she doesn't go back. What else do I have to do—" Jungkook pauses to stop himself because this clearly wasn't you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Who the fuck made her do this?"

"Bigs, who else?"

"No, she wouldn't listen to just Bigs. He's definitely working with someone and using shit against her."

"Okay, let's just not assume the worst. I'll head there tonight and drag Jin hyung with me."

"Thanks hyung, I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Joon gently massages his shoulder before getting up from his spot to make his way back to his room.

All Jungkook can think about doing is sleeping more right now. He'll send the occasional text to check on Kai and see how he was doing, but they both worried too much about you and Jungkook would hate to tell him that you ended up going back to the club. He didn't think he would tell him, he didn't think he'd have to because he was gonna make sure to get you out of there before shit hit the roof again. If it hasn't already, and he's hoping it hasn't.

And so when Namjoon and Jin hyung [obviously in need of that lap dance or two] head out to the club, Jungkook stays in his dorm room, suddenly feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body even though he can't do shit besides sit here and wait. He goes through the random pictures he's taken of you - the cute, candid photos he had of you, the cute candid photo of you as his lock screen. He deletes all the texts in his inbox even though he knows it might have been a little late. It honestly hasn't mattered to him in such a long time, but he just never got around to wiping his inbox clean since he was so caught up with you - his baby.

"Is this going to turn into some kind of action movie? We bust through the doors, take down all the guards and steal Y/N?"

"No, hyung. Jesus. Do you forget you're an idol? That's probably the very last thing we should do."

"So, what do we do?"

"We just walk in there like we normally do?"

"Boring."

"Plus, we can't have Bigs onto us like that. We have to act like we don't know anything."

"Do you really think he's using something against her?"

"I don't know. I have to be honest though, I think Jimin's involved."

"W-what?" Jin says, furrowing his brows. "No, he can't be."

"Trust me. He always acts so weird around her, and he's probably the one person who hasn't taken this as seriously. He hasn't said anything to Jungkook."

"But why though?"

"I don't know, beats me. I just don't think he respects her. Or, likes her. Whatever it is."

"She hasn't done anything to him though."

"That makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"How could you be so sure?"

"Look hyung, I'm not. I just think he's involved. My gut says so. We'll find out whether I'm right or not, right?"

"I hope you aren't. That'll really mess Kookie up."

"Well. I love him, but he'll have to learn the hard way for butting into someone else's business like that. No matter what the reason is." Namjoon parks the car and fixes his rolled up sleeves before adjusting the Rolex on his wrist. He looks at Jin once more, nodding in approval once they both feel like they've fixed themselves enough to look presentable, not questionable.

Meanwhile, you had just finished up your time on stage so you headed to the back to take a break. Bigs hadn't given you the option to secure private bookings knowing damn well there would be opportunity for Jungkook and some of his boys to slip through and try to work their magic in private. As much as possible, you were just trying to protect Jungkook, even though you knew he wouldn't back down without a fight. You knew Bigs wasn't all that tough, but right now, he seemed to hold a lot of power with Jimin being on his team. And you knew damn well it was Jimin all along. Did you have concrete evidence? No. But your gut feeling might as well be enough with the way he talks to you. Why else would Bigs all of a sudden feel all mighty? Bigs had threatened Jungkook and your brother enough to keep your mouth shut. Enough to keep your attitude level at a 0.

The scene played in your head over and over again—

"I gave you a better life, you ungrateful piece of shit. You do as I say and your little Jungkook and your little Kai won't get hurt. You think I'm scared of them, sweetie? You think I'm scared of you? Your stepfather don't give a damn about you two. I can easily send my men down to do their magic, especially after how Jungkook treated me. Is that how he repays me after all the special treatment I've given him?" Mr. Bigs hunched over you. "You two wanna play me like a fool, I'll show you two what it's like to be played like a fool." He pulled on your hair before aggressively releasing and spitting to the side.

There was no way they would get dragged into this. Not anymore. They didn't deserve to be included in this no matter what it was.

Boy, did you miss Jungkook. Everything about him. It took everything in you not to come running back. It took everything in you not to answer those calls or texts like you normally would.

You chose him, every single time. You wish he knew that. Him and Kai.

You sighed, sipping on the flask you snuck in. The alcohol relieving you of any pain, helping you feel numb as the night goes on. You didn't want to feel tonight, you just didn't. Why would you, when everything had just been hurting you lately?

You had just finished dancing out on the main stage, throwing your ass back to some Megan and Cardi. A few other dancers were gathered at a vanity, sneakily sniffing lines of coke while Bigs and his men were busy paroling the main stage.

"You want some of this, sis? In celebration of you coming back?" One of the other dancers smirks at you. You simply shake your head no and return to the flask in your hand.

"I'm good, thank you."

"Alright, well it's here if you want it. Just let me know, babe." Her and the other dancers go back to their business on the vanity. However, another dancer continues to eye you, sympathy filling her expression as she approaches you while you sip on your flask once more. You were starting to feel pretty tipsy again, hoping you could just hide out in the back 'till the very end of your shift.

"Y/N." She says, her hand gently on your arm. "You okay?"

"I'm good." You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from tearing up. Those words were triggering for you because you were not okay, whatsoever.

"Why did you come back, babe?" She genuinely asks, worried about you. "Did Bigs do something?"

"No." You lied. "Things just didn't work out elsewhere I guess, and I need money."

"Didn't work out? I saw the way Jungkook handled Bigs that night." If anything, she was probably the one dancer who paid attention to the environment around her. Everyone else was oblivious to the shit that's been happening and that's because they didn't give a fuck about anyone else. Her stage name was Trixie, but her real name was Miki. She too didn't really enjoy being here but her parents talked so much about how she was useless and couldn't make it out in the world, especially as a vlogger. She loved it. She loved being in front of the camera and talking to the world thru the lens. But her parents thought it was dumb— that she was dumb for even wanting to grow a career online like that. Besides all of it, she remained sweet, and she was always super nice to you. You wouldn't be surprised if she knew about you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn't have a problem with it. She never treated you wrong. She knew Bigs had a tendency to overstep and abuse the power he had with his status and his money. However, she knew he was a big coward and that he was all talk, no play — especially if it was outside of the club. He may be a big honcho here, but outside, he had no chance. And she couldn't wait until the day he'd get his for all the mess he's caused.

"Yeah well, things happen." She shakes her head.

"Y/N, you can talk to me. Look, as much as I love seeing your face, you have so much potential. You don't deserve to be stuck here. Let me help you figure this out."

"I'm okay, Miki. Thank you, though." She nods, not wanting to press you any further.

"Well, I'm here for you." She gives your arm one good squeeze before walking off.

Eventually, the rest of the dancers retreat back out onto the floor, leaving you to hide away in the back room as long as possible — which is why Namjoon can't get a glimpse of you anywhere out in the main area. Bigs is actually a little taken aback to see both him and Jin walking through the club, even after everything that has gone down. But hey, business is business— and if they weren't gonna cause any trouble, so be it. He knows though, he knows full well there's a possibility they're here for you.

"Boys! Long time no see!" He greets them, Joon and Jin giving him a toothless smile in return. "How've you been? What brings you in?"

"Mr. Bigs." Namjoon says, smoothing down his shirt. "Ah, we're good, just getting busy prepping for the tour. Wanted to take a little breather tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you guys came here to do so. Can I get you two anything to drink?" The both of them shake their heads. "Anything to help relieve that stress?"

"We're good, thanks. Just gonna sit out on the floor for a bit."

"You two let me know if there's anything I can do for you, at all." Bigs smiles at them as he begins to watch them walk away. "Make sure she's covered." Bigs slightly turns his head to speak through the headset mic, alerting his men to keep an eye out. He thinks he's said it low enough so that Jin and Namjoon don't hear, but Jin catches the movement in his peripherals, causing him to pinch Joon's bicep.

"Back room." Jin says, subtly nodding towards the backroom as he keeps his gaze out on the main stage and adjusts his tie. Namjoon looks around to see Bigs has welcomed himself to the other side of the club, speaking to a few customers, looking distracted.

"I'm gonna go see if I can talk to her."

"Talk?! You said we were just scoping her out. Don't cause any trouble, Namjoon-ah. Please."

"Oh, now you suddenly don't want this action movie to come alive?! You sure were talking a whole lot about it in the car."

"Since when do you even take me seriously?!"

"I always take you seriously, hyung!"

"How about you just sneak towards the back door and get her attention? You said we can't go all out like that!"

"There's guards there too."

"Look, I just don't want you or Y/N to get hurt. Maybe we should just lay low and figure out how we can approach this better."

"Hey, can I get you two anything?" Miki interrupts, fully aware of who they are and what they're here for.

"No, sweetie. Thank you." Jin responds, flashing his 100-watt smile.

"You looking for Y/N?"

"Depends who's asking?" Namjoon says, trying to keep his guard up.

"Look, I'm not gonna rat you out if that's what you think." She puts her hand on her hip, tray still balancing on her free hand. "She's in the backroom. But there's no way you can get to her. Bigs is watching her for whatever reason."

"Yeah, we're aware. Can you send her a message for me?"

"Sure. You have 10 seconds though or else Bigs is gonna be onto you." She points towards Bigs slowly making his way back.

"Just tell her that Jungkook is worried about her and wants to help. Or, we want to help. We just wanna know what's going on."

"I'll try, but she didn't let up when I asked earlier."

"Thanks." Joon sighs.

"Shoo, I'll find you guys around." She says, sneakily walking off towards the bar with her empty tray as Bigs starts to eye the main floor. Jin and Namjoon welcome themselves to a seat on the side of the stage, acting normal as possible by throwing bills onto the stage for the dancers. Miki tends to her customers before she's setting her tray down and pretending to take a cigarette from her bra to take a quick "break." She heads to the back to see you still sitting at your vanity, head resting against the palm of your hand.

"Babe." You turn to look at her, eyes slightly glossed over.

"Hm?"

"RM and Jin are here. They said they want to help you, and if you can tell them anything, that's all they'd want."

"Miki—"

"Girl, look. Don't let this man keep running your life like this. I don't care what he said or did, this isn't you. You need to get out of here and you need to let people in. People who genuinely care about you." You sigh.

"How is that possible when Jungkook's own bestfriend doesn't even like me? And ontop of that, Bigs even dragged my little brother and my evil ass stepfather into this. I can't let anything happen to him, he's the only thing I have."

"I get that, and I'm sure Jungkook will do whatever it takes to protect you both. Why are RM and Jin here then? Whatever Jungkook's other friend's issue is, he needs to figure it out. It's obviously his own problem, something he created himself for no reason."

"I know he's helping Bigs keep me away from Jungkook. All the hurtful shit in the media, all the shit he's been tossing in my face. Whatever, I get it. He wins. I don't belong."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, and I know even if I chose Jungkook, he'd choose his bestfriend over me. Why would he go against that? They've been together for so long. I'm a fucking nobody." Miki knows this is all the alcohol running through your veins, but at least now, she knows Bigs isn't doing this on his own [as she assumed, he's a fucking pussy for the most part - he's a pussy who got handsy with the dancers cause that's all he can do to feed his ego].

"I don't think that's true, and I don't think it's a fair assumption when he's stayed by your side, hasn't he? He hasn't given up on you." She says before walking out. Really, things were just completely scrambled in your head. Just fucked up. Your questions, your uncertainty was strong enough to pull you towards the negative - the what if's, the assumptions, the rumors, the shit-talking. After all that, the positives were dim.

Miki grabs her tray and serves the first couple of customers in dire need of their drinks before she heads over to Jin and Namjoon to spill the information she received from that conversation.

"She won't budge. It sounds like a lot of this shit talking got to her head, so she came back to make herself feel better but then Bigs ended up turning this around on her, threatening Jungkook and her brother. If I were you, I'd get Jungkook to her before she can even come back here. Make sure her brother is with him too. Bigs is all talk but being the guys that you are — I wouldn't take any chances to ruin your reputation and all that." She smacks on her gum. "And I hate to tell you this, but one of your little friends has been working with Bigs. I don't know who, but you better let that little shit know he was wrong for getting in her head like that. She deserves way better." She says with a punch of attitude before walking away.

"Jimin?" Jin mouths out to Namjoon, who only shrugs in response.

"Let's go." Namjoon tosses a couple of more bills before they head out.

"Have a good evening, boys." Bigs yells out, causing the two of them to return a tight-lipped smile.

"Are we going to tell Kookie about Jimin?"

"No? Because we don't even know ourselves. His name was never dropped, and we'll look dumb if we acted on assumptions."

"This is so fucked up." Jin sighs, looking out the window.

"You're telling me."

When they finally arrive back at the dorm, Namjoon and Jin find Jungkook pacing around in his room, tossing a rubber ball against the wall to keep himself occupied. His doe eyes dart over to them, letting the ball drop to the floor while he nervously walks closer to them.

"So?"

"I'm sorry, dude." Joon sighed. "From what it sounds like, all this mess just got to her head so she went back to the club to make herself feel better. But Bigs ended up bringing you and her brother into the situation so, I'm assuming she's distancing herself to protect you in some way?" Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. "Honestly, I really don't know, that's as much as we got."

"We didn't even talk to her or see her, some other dancer helped us out. I guess she's a friend of hers? Or maybe she just likes Y/N. She wanted to help." Jin says.

"Fuck!" Jungkook groans, slamming his hand down onto his bed. "Why couldn't she just talk to me? We could have figured this out."

"Look, I'm sure there's a lot more to it and I'm sure it's difficult for her. Promise me you'll hear her out when you see her."

"I mean, yeah I know, I will. But, how did this get to her head so easily? I really can't wrap my head around it, I—" He catches how tense Joon and Jin suddenly get. He watches them nervously looking at each other, making him cock his head to the side and furrow his brows. "Wait, what is it? You know something else, don't you?"

"I mean there's really no concrete facts behind it so we can't necessarily say it's true."

"Well?" Jungkook asks, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are turning white. But, before they could go any further, Jungkook's ringtone echos in the room. He quickly turns in case it's you calling, but he picks up anyway because it's someone equally as important.

"Kai?"

"C-can you come pick me up? My sister isn't picking up. I'll send you Eric's address." Jungkook worries when he hears the shakiness in his voice, his tone low to a whisper.

"Yeah, sit tight. I'll be right there." He hangs up, darting out of his room, Namjoon and Jin following after him.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get to Kai."

"Let us come with!"

"Look, it'll be quicker if I go myself—"

"Jungkook-ah, stop. We're not gonna let you go alone." Joon and Jin make it just in time to join him in the elevator, heading straight for his car even if it's nearing 1am. Jungkook pulls up Kai's location, pressing on the gas to rush over there just in case Kai was hurt. And yes, Jungkook was going to give it to your fucking stepfather if he sees anything on Kai. He will fucking destroy him, he promises.

Jungkook, Namjoon and Jin walk into the house quietly, seeing Kai putting his finger up to his lips when he meets them near the kitchen.

"What happened?" Jungkook whispers, handing his bags over to Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook looks at the small hint of blood pooling near his nostrils and the cut near his eyebrow.

"I'll explain in the car, can you just take me to—"

"Really? Calling your sister's boyfriend and his friends over to save you? You really are a helpless little shit." Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook are all shielding each other and Kai from Eric, Jungkook's blood boiling seeing him standing there, clearly very drunk and not in the right state of mind.

"Aye, don't fucking talking to him like that." Jungkook's spits out, making Eric laugh.

"First you fall for my slut of a daughter, now you help rescue him? I thought you were so much better than that, Jungkook. You aren't the person people portrayed you to be. Shittiest idol I know. All of you."

"You don't know me." Eric snorts.

"You guys do know I help sponsor your shit right? I play a big role for you, don't come into my house acting like—" He slurs his words.

"Yeah, well fuck the contract." Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Better yet, don't fucking worry about it, I'll make sure to take care of it for you."

"You need me." Eric says, almost at a growl. "You need me and Bigs—"

"Since when?" Namjoon responds in a mocking manner as he begins to usher Jin, Jungkook and Kai towards the front door. "If you wanna send your people over, you can let them know I'm free tomorrow in the late afternoon. I'll be more than happy to tell 'em what kind of sick person you are."

"You can't just take him—" Eric tries to flip the script, obviously unaware that Kai has already turned 18. He grips onto Kai's arm and tries to pull him back, except he's intoxicated, so Jungkook easily pushes him off. He watches as Eric hits a bar stool, stumbling over himself before he drunkily falls on his ass.

"You're such a sad excuse of a stepfather, you aren't even aware he's 18 already. He doesn't need you." Jungkook scoffs. "I'm gonna send people for the rest of Kai's shit tomorrow. And let's get this straight - we never needed you or Bigs. You both aren't shit without us and yout fucking empire thrives because of us. And if you do anything to Y/N, if you even think about working with Bigs on doing anything to her, I fucking promise you I will bury you alive. I won't stop until you have nothing left. Don't underestimate me."

youtube

everybody's angry and they're coming for me, but i can't give them energy that i won't receive; so i brush 'em off, i got a lot on my sleeve, like i'm moving backwards, but it's all on repeat; this place is getting crowded, i got no room to breathe

track twelve: hundred - khalid

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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k0kichiimagines · 3 years

Text

happy birthday saeran choi!! my love!! him!! anyways i did a fluff alphabet for him <3 under the cut

also its technically the 12th here :( sorry

- mod kichi who yes is a 707 kinnie too

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

your kindness, you respect towards him in trusting him and letting him make choices. in terms of physically he likes your lips, and your eyes.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

its canon he wants a baby, either biologically or via adoption :) i feel like he'd want to wait though, he has healing to do and he wants to experience life a bit, and then raise a child. he would be a very gentle father, and make sure they experience everything he didnt get to.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

he likes being face to face, getting to see you - sweethearts cradle if im not wrong? but honestly? he doesnt mind

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

he has a lot he wants to see, and he'll want to take you everywhere,, a lot of cloud gazing (gave me flashbacks to UP), nature dates,

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

"you are my life / soul / world / happiness"

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

God, he knew when you were both in that damn cult. and he hated it, he wanted to deny it, Unknown wanted to deny it, Ray didn't understand it. but his racing heart and pink cheeks said otherwise

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

so gentle! especially since he feels a lot of guilt over how suit saeran treated you. even if hes being playful, like tickling you or tough housing, theres always this softness to it

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

he loves it! he always has his hands brushing against yours, wrapping a little finger around yours. its like silent love

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

that you were pretty but a bit too trusting, or perhaps you didnt care much what happened to you... you interested him

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

he trusts you, however there will be moments he doubts himself and his worth. he may stay silent, or he may gently explain his feelings - not in a way to make you feel bad or cut ties with someone but just to communicate

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

canonly you did! hes not a very good kisser, youre his first, but they're sweet anyways :) and he gets better with time !! there's always this softness to them, like he sees you as something so precious you may wilt away if he's too rough

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

i feel like it was him canonically? it was a lot for him, it may just be words but it was new and it was terrifying

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

probably the first while after his after ending, just you him and saeyoung, finding his freedom for the first time. it was a rough time, but his first tastes of happiness

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

he's not exactly rich, despite saeyoung insisting they share the money he's saved up, but i feel like he would get you things! little things, flowers, jewellery youve had your eye on, small but meaningful gifts he hopes you'll enjoy

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

probably your favourite colour/s

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

darling, love, my love, sweetheart, flower, petal, different flower names, my hope

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

books, flowers, etc,, honestly he prefers most non modern things

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

honestly he likes the rain, he'd use his time to find something to do - read a book, watch something. he has so much he wants to experience he doesnt get bored in the rain.

i can see him going out at least once, getting his clothes soaked and having to have a bath afterwards, at risk of getting a cold the next day

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

he bottles up a lot, tries to seem happy,, he'll slip back into his irritable moods at rare times, and you'll find him hidden away in corners with tear stained cheeks. he has panic attacks a lot too

however, he does get therapy and help, ans he will try his best to explain his feelings to you as well. a few times he may want you or saeyoung with him, or even just waiting outside.

when you're upset he'll take tips you gave him back to you, if you dont want to talk then try distract you and etc

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

everything! seriously! his passions and hobbies, yours, everything and nothing, he loves it

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

his flowers, being with you, baths, cooking

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

his flowers!!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

he'd want to discuss marriage, make sure you want to and you're both ready. he'd take you on a nice date, somewhere you like, buy you ice cream, and he'd ask you once you were alone, with a bouquet of hand chosen flowers, each with a special meaning.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Line Without A Hook

Mr Loverman

Meant To Be Yours (not healthy but)

Him (james marriott's one!! its one of my favourite songs!! especially reverbed and slowed)

And more i cant think of

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

yes!! especially since its something his parents never did (i dont even think they dated?), it feels like securing something, a reassurance you'll be together.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

,,bias again its a cat. cats are perfect for him, they need attention and care and play at times, but equally not a huge amount and constantly,, especially if its one that likes sleeping on his lap

they might dig up his plants though :(

#saeran x reader #saeran choi x reader #mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger imagines #saeran choi #fluff

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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why does jean warn up to mc so quickly? ikevamp makes it clear that jean is a pretty reserved person and doesn't open up or let people in easily but he seems to let mc in quite quickly and it confuses me quite a bit.

Oh boy, where to begin with this one.

Well, I have a lot of Feelings^TM about this, but I'll try to be concise. Essentially, I think Jeanne doesn't recover in the other routes--or the general storyline--largely because he's just a lot to unpack narratively speaking. And without some pretty direct intervention, he has a hard time healing. MC’s direct intervention was meaningful because it was focused, consistent, and adapted to Jeanne’s specific needs. She also doesn’t make light of his experiences which is key; she fully understands that she can’t fathom what he’s been through. There is a very weighty respect and acknowledgement, a seriousness with which she treats his wounds that’s important.

It’s easy to make this a “why is MC nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS” but honestly that’s just not the sense I get when I look at all the information available to us.

That being said, I also just feel like every person's recovery from traumatic events doesn't really look the same? I mean Leonardo’s cptsd isn’t going to operate the same way Jeanne’s wartime/Inquisition cptsd is going to operate. Some people require very individualized healing, others will often require a large scale group effort to lift them up.

Typically people don't ever just get over what happened to them and never worry about it again, either. It's usually a process of coping; the hope is that with time you find healthy ways to deal with grief and move forward. Therapists aren't magicians, they just help people process painful experiences/thoughts. It's honestly up to individuals to find meaningful ways to implement these tactics.

Tl; dr: My contention is that Jeanne doesn’t open up or choose to stay alive because MC magically heals him, rather his recovery is a convergence of many people’s efforts and hopes that he stays alive. Gilles (he insists that Jeanne must live, asks him to promise), MC (affirms and bolsters that promise), Comte (makes a second life and recovery possible)--and in no small measure Mozart and Napoleon--all make an active effort to buoy him. As people often say, it takes a village to raise a child.

While Jeanne seems to respond most powerfully to MC’s attempts, it feels more like a product of chemistry/compatibility than it does a random cop out. There is no insinuation that only romantic love can heal; after all, MC gets close to him without any romantic intentions at first. They’re just good friends? It’s more that their feelings simply moved in a different direction after a point, which doesn’t necessarily happen all the time. Jeanne is also incredibly moved by Mozart’s love for him as a friend, Comte’s love for him as a father, and even Gilles’ love as a comrade to an extent. If anything, without their input Jeanne’s capacity for romantic love would be questionable at best.

Now, because I can never for the life of me stop analyzing, I have a more large scale outline of my thoughts below. Spoilers for Jeanne’s route:

If we look at Jeanne's life history, he has pretty specific trauma. Most of the harm he endured was a direct result of human rights violations after the war itself. He didn't enjoy fighting and killing people, but he's also very much a man that sees the reality of his position: it's either kill or be killed. His entire goal was to defeat the enemy as efficiently as possible in the hopes of ending conflict, and with his enormous resolve turns the tide. He had no innate interest in inflicting harm, or lack of control when engaging. He isn't pathological about it, and doesn’t dehumanize the other side. He was more "this was an act of necessity, but those are still human beings." So as far as I can tell he has a very strong moral compass and sense of duty, he doesn't show much delusion/confusion in that regard. (Also evident in his conversations with the young orphan boy.) Furthermore, he has been shown to have a sense of humor--cracking jokes with Gilles and boosting morale for his fellow soldiers.

His childhood abandonment is significant (he left his home because he was "not an adequate farmhand and they had no ability to feed all their children") but I don't know if I would consider it a huge trauma point for him. It seems as though he deemed it an act of necessity--not spite. It was simply the way of things, and he couldn't help his wiry constitution. You'd be surprised how common that was once upon a time, tbh... While it's certainly not right or fair, it does appear that in his perception it was the choice he made and he moved on after he became a soldier. Just focusing on what he could do, rather than everything he lacked. For people in his position, they often feel it is useless to linger on what should have been. There’s no time to linger or doubt, life hangs in the balance.

That leaves us with his time under the Inquisition, just before he was slated to be burned alive. I think this is the keystone trauma point for him, because there are a lot of moving parts to his powerlessness here. The first part is that his entire life's mission--ending the war so that people would no longer have to die and/or starve as a result of senseless violence--was just sabotaged. All those years of doing things he never wanted to do (wartime violence) and being forced to leave his family to ensure they didn't all starve, all of it treated like some kind of joke. Like he didn't sacrifice years of his life and sanity to protect a people who were happy to call him a monster and watch him burn alive. The second part is the overt gaslighting and rewriting of Jeanne's personal history (and overall French public perception) for the sake of the King's political agenda. To call him a treasonous danger to the country when he was once lauded a hero. The third portion is the actual physical helplessness of being arrested, starved, and continuously maimed for no reason beyond pure malice. While it's never right to do that to any human being, this was done to a man who prided himself on his stalwart moral code. To abuse and torture him for something egregious that he would never do (at the risk of death) is just another slap in the face to everything he is and believes in.

I just feel like the context clarifies why that period of time would be the tipping point. His entire moral code and life’s work is being called into question and swept aside, as well as his agency? He believes very powerfully in a sense of right vs wrong, what's fair and what isn't fair. Somebody else deciding that for him--and deciding in a way that is openly unfair/incorrect--further makes him lose himself and his sense of reality. A person in that situation begins to doubt if they are good or bad. His belief in god all the more pressing; if he was a good person, why would fate bring him so much suffering? Honorable soldier or not, his blade has drawn so much blood...

People often reference his stilted social skills (and I am of the belief that he is on the autistic spectrum) as a reason why he is so "people-adverse" but tbh? I don't agree. His memories before the onset of this trauma reveal that he was actually a very warm person, and that people were more than willing to fight under his banner. He had friends, and he had comrades--his country loved him. He was the picture of well-meaning civic duty. Just because he doesn’t integrate smoothly into larger social groups or adapt well to socially shifting circumstances, doesn’t mean he just hates people lmao. When people give him the space to exist within his comfort zone and don’t take advantage of him, he thrives. Compounded by that, we also have his actions in the present to further prove what is true and what isn't.

While he is stern with the orphan boy (I'm sorry I can't remember his name, damn it) there is no malice or cruelty in what he has to say. He doesn't punish the kid or do anything out of line. It may not be fair in terms of the adult level of discretion he asks of him, but the kid also didn't have a lot of options realistically speaking lmao. Same thing with MC, she and the orphan boy are nearly identical in how Jeanne treats them. He's a little rough, but the route reveals that his intentions are just a reflection of what he's been through. He truly believes that if a person isn't strong, they won't survive--because his entire life was a series of trying to be strong/reliable because nobody else would. There was nobody to protect him, and nobody to care for him went things went south. It was him and his sword against the world, and even his exceptional skill as a fighter did not protect him from the Inquisition's arbitrary torture. He has lived in a world where good acts can become absolutely meaningless, where following rules and helping people still gets you slaughtered. That's going to take a considerable toll on his mental health: where do you find the will to go on when the next second of your life could mean the devastation of everything that matters to you?

Spoilers: you don't. Or if you do, every minute of the day is a fight to stay alive. That is the point at which we meet Jeanne. Caught in the hellish whirlpool of wanting more, wanting better--but being terrified of the cost. The cost of hoping, only for his entire world to go up in flames again. It's not a small thing, in my view.

If you have any doubts as to whether or not that is the case, I direct you to literally every singular instance in which Jeanne's emotional sensibility goes visibly dark/south. When do these instances happen? When it rains, for one. And when Shakespeare deliberately starts pressing on his sensitivities: about the soldiers he was forced to kill, about the nation that spurned him, how he's truly "wicked" at heart and doesn't deserve to be happy--seconds before flames erupt for the festival. Does that really sound coincidental? I mean lmao. The rain is a painful reminder, but MC transforms that memory into something a little lighter with her bet. He has nothing to lose in her game, all she does is ask for time with him or offers him something if she loses. There's a playfulness there, a restoration of agency and ease that's invaluable to his recovery.

As for Shakespeare's deliberate retraumatization...I can't even begin to explain how damaging that event was. Shakespeare is undermining Jeanne's agency in that he--not unlike the corrupt monarch of Jeanne's era--is twisting Jeanne's beliefs to work against him. He knows full well that Jeanne doesn't feel like he deserves somebody so bright and understanding (we need to remember it's not really a luxury he's had much in life, especially after the war ended). He knows Jeanne has a tendency to impose that strict moral code on himself even more than he does on others. To reaffirm his every worst fear and lurking terror only throws Jeanne into a vicious downspiral. Jeanne doesn't reject MC out of disgust or hate. He rejects her because he literally cannot handle the concept of trying to be happy again, or of burdening her with his constant struggle to move on while he’s in the middle of a bad episode. He knows he won’t be able to stop reliving the past, that every second of his life and breath will be colored by his gruesome memories. He's trying as hard as he can to keep the intrusive thoughts quiet, to move on. But I'm not going to lie to any of you, that is incredibly difficult to do alone.

The next obvious question is, well why can't the other men help him? This isn't to say that they can't--we see how much solace Jeanne finds in Napoleon and Mozart. Even Isaac is gentle with the veteran. But there are limits to how much they can do. Napoleon is struggling with his own wartime trauma, and it's not identical to Jeanne's. Plus there’s a distinct difference in their sensibilities? Napoleon is the type to habitually seek comfort in helping others when he can't help himself, he's not as in tune with answering his own personal feelings and regulating them. (I mean just look at his new ES: he knows what he wants, but it takes a nudge from Isaac for him to go through with it.) He’s very communally reliant in ways Jeanne isn’t; Jeanne is a very private person, and typically prefers one on one from what I can tell.

Mozart is the definition of repression, and if you look at their interactions it's usually Jeanne that's smoothing over Mozart's rough edges. Mozart says as much himself: that he feels like a rotten friend because he knew Jeanne was struggling with a lot of intense trauma, but he didn't know how to unravel it without hurting him in the process. Mozart calls it personal cowardice, but honestly I just feel like they both had too much going on to be able to help each other effectively. (And Jeanne expresses this sentiment too? This idea that he's not angry with Mozart? He knows they're both carrying a lot, he's just touched Mozart cares about him in return.)

Okay, briefly unrelated, but like. Am I the only one that wheezes uncontrollably when Mozart is like "?????? Idk what it is about MC...I don't want her to be scared of me..." in his own main story in the baths. And Jeanne. IS TRYING SO HARD. NOT TO SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HIM O B V I O U S L Y BEING IN LOVE. THE HILARITY I CAN'T DO THIS. Jeanne was like "yeah....yeah that's rough buddy.......[screams internally, give your boy time Jeanne he's fragile]"

Honestly? That's the thing about Jeanne too--he has incredible self-awareness and hyperarousal-related (I mean the PTSD kind, get your head out of the gutter) awareness to the people around him. He's very, very conscious of the fact that he is surrounded by geniuses when he can't even write his own name. Just because he has the fortitude not to lash out with his insecurities, doesn't mean he never feels stupid or inferior. And it doesn't help when there are people in the mansion who call him--a fucking war veteran from 500 YEARS AGO--nAiVe. He's not naive lmao. He just doesn't know how the world works so many years later, and it's a ridiculously steep learning curve? Leonardo and Comte are nearly 500 years old, but they lived throughout every hour of that time in a linear fashion. It is a big deal to be moved from 1430 to 1890 in the span of a second asynchronously, and then be expected to function without a hitch??? Given the circumstances he adapts well.

That atmosphere--this constant impatience with what he doesn’t understand, his inability to be caught up to speed quickly--is going to hinder his recovery lmao. He feels like a burden most of the time, and agency and freedom are crucial.

Another thing that occurs to me about the mansion's arrangement is that there is a power dynamic, just as any space with people in it has some level of hierarchy (unless you live with miraculously chill people). Jeanne is acutely aware that Comte is the most powerful being in that space, and he is not only hatefully angry at him--but likely afraid too. We have to remember that the biggest betrayal he witnessed in his life was at the hands of a monarch; it was the aristocracy that turned on him and erased the truth. Comte is openly a child that resulted from both that era and that type of lineage, I don't really blame Jeanne for being wary. He intimately knows how willing rich people are to throw normal folks under the bus to suit their ambitions/whims. Comte, while not deliberately threatening, also seems to be painfully aware of this impression he gives off. His "chad persona" as I've mentioned allows him to navigate his life in secret by necessity, but it’s actively damaging to his son. He can't reveal the truth because of Vlad's betrayal, and he's openly unsettled by what it could mean to be honest. Will they wonder about Vlad and find themselves ensnared under his mind control as Charles and Shakespeare are? Will Comte himself be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known only to lose them?? That's a risk he isn't willing to take--and that leaves him in a double bind.

What is it that they say, the truth will set you free? This is where MC and Comte come into enormous play when it comes to Jeanne's recovery. One thing to keep in mind is that most of the people in the mansion have their own traumas they're trying to carry, and I feel like a lot of them are unsure how to approach Jeanne. Or if they do, he's very guarded. It takes a lot of consistent effort to get through to him. What does MC do when Jeanne unleashes his harsh worldview on her? She's understandably frightened, but Jeanne isn't malicious (so she chases him around). In fact, he openly avoids and runs away from her--well aware that what he's done is wrong. If anything, he did it on purpose, bringing us right back to Shakespeare's verbal undoing; why does Jeanne attack her in the first place?

LMAO. He attacks her because she essentially says "oh thanks for helping me!" "I am not nice. Watch yourself." "But you seem like a nice guy to me?" "REEEEEE" Does the pattern become a little clearer? When people think kindly of him, his instinct is to shatter that illusion with an impulsive reprehensible act. When people think poorly of him or lash out, what does he do? When that orphan boy starts yelling and screaming, Jeanne is nothing but calm. He explains the situation, and offers the kid a choice, perfectly happy to be the bearer of bad news. This operates on many levels I’m sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with him being hailed a saint and a war hero only to be tortured and branded a monstrosity (and he probably thinks being a vampire is doubly monstrous). He’s more comfortable being hated because he feels it’s what he deserves in a lot of ways.

Jeanne has a lot of internalized self-hatred because of what he's done, and because of how much harm was inflicted on him outside of his control (he's Catholic and he was tortured, come on this writes itself). If I'm honest, I think that's actually the greater part of why he hates Comte lmao. Comte refuses the very concept of being cruel no matter how much Jeanne lashes out. Sure he lectures him and scolds him, but he never actively limits what's important to him or controls or harms him. Comte fully realizes the tragedy of how Jeanne's life was used by a nation in dire straits, and knows he needs time and acceptance to heal. No matter how dismal or unhappy, Comte doesn't stop--he fully believes Jeanne should have time in his life where he can really live for himself for once. But therein lies the issue, Jeanne doesn't know how to live for himself.

Which brings me to how MC and Comte "heal" Jeanne. I feel like they give him the space he needs to recover, and that's what results in his gentled temperament and happiness. Remember that so much of his main story is MC endlessly chasing after Jeanne. No amounts of his hissing or running or threatening stops her. Even if his refusals are empty of real dislike, they're enough to deter most people. Not MC. She's able to see through to the depths of who he is, and doesn't just use him for her own ends? She actively seeks to teach him (to read and write) to help him settle better in this era, she actively tries to ease his distaste for rain with a well-meaning bet, and she never gives up on him. (Actions mean so much more to him than words in general too, tbh...). Love is more easily defined by work and effort than it is by attraction.

When he has his episode at the festival, sure she's rattled; but that's because she truly believed that he didn't want to be around her anymore. When she notices he really doesn’t want to be followed, she stops like any normal person would. It’s only when she reads his notebook and sees the truth for herself (that he’s given up despite having the same feelings for her) that her determination is rekindled. She doesn't approach him fearfully, doesn't treat him like he's made of glass either. She just wants him as he is--accepts and loves him as he is. Scarred, bloody, exhausted, abrasive, terrified. She doesn't define him by how easy he is to love. That is a huge issue with traumatized people lmao. Because of their maturity, people always just assume they don't need help, or they rely on them to an extent that isn't sustainable. The second they reveal need or that they struggle, people walk away or victim blame them because it’s easier than taking them seriously.

While MC's attempts may be a little more obvious (cherishing his lily field, wearing the hair pin he gave her, careful about his gruesome injury, really listens when he talks about the horrors of his life and accepts that he experienced a level of agony/terror she can never understand, tries to express her feelings no matter his evasion) I think it's also important to consider Comte's large scale effort. I don't say this to undermine MC, I say it because Jeanne's life was defined by a complete lack of security. He left his parents to make their lives easier, he lived in a war that meant life or death any second, and his country's leader branded him a traitor which lead to his endless torture and public execution. Jeanne does not know a life in which safety is the norm. Point blank. He does not understanding going outside and not expecting the worst anymore.

Comte not only understands that level of despair, but treats it with dignity and respect. He fully accepts being hated if it means Jeanne can use that hatred to live on and find a way to heal. And most importantly, when Jeanne begins to move forward with MC and Mozart's help, Comte never once holds it against Jeanne when the truth is revealed. He's not angry, this isn't about reprisal or reparations or revenge. It's just love.

Jeanne doesn't really have a concept of this? His entire life was mostly transactional, defined by strength and efficiency. Nobody gives a damn about your feelings. You either hurl yourself at the problem or die. Nobody is going to help you or carry you or save you. While he may have had a little more support while he was in the military from his fellow soldiers, that support system was ripped away from him during the Inquisition.

One very common sentiment regarding elongated imprisonment and torture is that survival occurs in pairs. It is an undeniable fact that people need others to survive. It is the nature of who we are. Individualism has never proven to be successful, or if it is, its dividends are astronomically minimal when compared to people working together.

What does it mean to be the most reliable, steady person in the room? Usually it just means you don't know how to ask for help when you are no longer capable of maintaining that stance. Napoleon is guilty of it. Leonardo, Comte, and Jeanne all are too. It's part of why MC and Comte's capacity to see what he needs and provide as much as they can is such a big deal. That sort of consistent support (without a constant necessity to beg for help) allows Jeanne to be able to re-integrate into his new reality and find joy. Even if his nightmares and memories never go away, they are now being actively overrun by positive experiences. That's the thing about recovery, really--it tends to be more about drowning out the negative as much as possible and coming to terms with it, than it is about forgetting or never feeling it again. It’s about softening the sharp edges of pain like sea glass.

So is MC magical and randomly got Jeanne to open up? Nah, I don't think so. I think it was a series of persistence and real acceptance of who he is that made him warm up. People really seem to underestimate how deeply affecting understanding is, but that's how damage is undone. Jeanne can't really linger on the idea of his own monstrousness, his unworthiness, a lifetime of misery, when the person in front of him actively listens and cares about him. Makes him laugh and smile and lose himself in warmth for the first time.

If I'm honest, I feel like people also just...underestimate the level of traumatic resurgence that's perpetuated and inflicted by society’s standards in general lmao. This rhetorical structure in which good and bad exist in moral extremes, this idea that people should be able to recover and never experience relapses or periods of sensitivity. The refusal to radically listen to people and their problems, and make active attempts--not matter how small--to mend/ease those hurt feelings. Granted there will always be people in the world who do not want to improve, but I feel like most people want to. It's hopelessness, silence, and stigmatization that remain the true enemies of traumatized/mentally ill people everywhere. And among that population are always war veterans...

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp jean #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp meta #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp comte #sorry i have a lot of feelings about this topic kjahsflkjhsjkghfd #but yes!#i think mc being able to help him was more about her sensibility and the mental fortitude/space to be able to care about him as he needed #i don't think it's necessarily that she's SpEcIaL #trauma is a sensitive subject--especially considering he's a war veteran #but i also think it's simple and complex at the same time #simple in the sense that people really do just need consistent support and love to be able to care for themselves again #complex in the sense that support can come in so many permutations and some of them are very delicate and multi-faceted #and thus must be handled with extreme caution in some regards #anywho not that i'm any kind of expert this is just what i understand and see #also in case it wasn't clear i love him and cry every day (look away comte it's my whoring hours)#though i hope this helps??? i went off harder than anticipated lakjhglkj #thank you for the ask!!! <3333 #asks #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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9tzuyu · 3 years

Text

dissolve (rewrite)

natasha x reader

note: this was just a huge vent fic idk. these type of fics seem to be the only thing im okay at writing. mistakes are mine as always. but i did proofread, yay!

if you want to read the original (as awful as it is) you can read it here!

wanrings: this heavily revolves around eating disorders.

i’m not tagging anyone because the content isn’t really the lightest to read.

words are used everyday, everywhere – whether to describe something or someone. there’s thousands upon thousands of them.

so you were having a hard time figuring out why you were struggling so much to justify your feelings through the basis of words. it was unnerving, draining and very annoying. your emotions should be simple, right? you were either sad or happy, angry or scared. but there was something more, something unexplainable. saying you felt alone only scratched the surface of the wave of emotion that took over. it was excruciatingly painful, far worse than any physical pain you ever had to endure. and for some reason it seemed to come crashing down at night while natasha slept peacefully. you weren't exactly sure how to express your emotions to the extent you felt them. how else was anyone supposed to understand your pain? they couldn't, not unless they could somehow shift into your body and feel your emotions themselves. but that was merely impossible as such powers do not exist. so you were inevitably stuck with words foreign to your lips. over the years you were deemed unsafe, a hazard, "an accident waiting to happen" you recall one doctor say. everyone’s eyes were on you at all times, monitoring every little movement you made. it was suffocating and at times doing more damage than good.

as an adult now you learned how freeing it could be without the fear of gaining weight or eating a bowl full of rainbow marshmallow cereal. your worth was not defined by your weight.

(at least that's what you believed prior to any relapses.) everything was going well in your life. you were a college graduate working as a psychiatric nurse and you had found love, something your teenage self could only dream of. natasha was by your side through everything. and really, the only downfall in the relationship was that she had to travel a lot for her job. but you were secure enough in your relationship not to worry or decide to call things off. in the end natasha always made up for it when she came back, so you couldn't complain too much. things were going well for you, really, they were. until they weren't. (and you didn't know why.) it happened out of nowhere. work was a little more stressful than usual, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. natasha had been away for three months, only stopping by a few times to check in on you. but again, your wife being away for so long wasn't anything new or worrisome. the two of you had followed the routine of her leaving and coming back more than a thousand times; yet somewhere along the way you lost yourself. food became less of a priority, your hunger decreased drastically, and within the first month you'd lost thirteen pounds. it truly was an accident, slipping into a full blown relapse was never part of the plan. but thirteen pounds lighter you wanted more, to feel small again. you didn't have an answer as to why you became so attached to your eating disorder, but it didn't seem like it would be letting go any time soon. the rate at which you were going natasha would most definitely be able to see a difference; not only on your weight, but in the person you once were. she'd ask what happened and why it happened, poking and prodding for an answer, but you didn't have one. so here you stood in the kitchen of your shared home, a cup of sliced fruit in one hand and your cell phone in the other. you poured the fruit into the bottom of a blender along with a spoonful of yogurt and half a cup of soy milk. another half cup of ice followed suit. while the fruit blended, you shamelessly scrolled through your instagram. there was nothing interesting going on in other people's lives, you didn't even know why you had social media in the first place. it was dumb, and quite frankly you didn't give a shit whether or not sharon went to the beach. the sound of your blender coming to a halt brought your attention back to the real world. you poured your smoothie into your water bottle. the green liquid would be your breakfast and lunch for the day - dinner was still up for debate. a soft sigh left your lips. work was beginning to feel more like a chore and less of something you enjoyed. you were quickly growing tired of it. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and rushed out of the door.

you thought about the irony of working as a psychiatric nurse with an undealt eating disorder telling teenagers how to deal with their own issues. you felt hypocritical to say the least, especially given that all the nasty side effects were starting to make themselves known.

your hair was beginning to thin, small clumps of it already starting to fall out when you tugged a little too hard. bruises could be seen scattered left and right on your body, and you were cold. god you were cold. your fingernails were tinted blue, warmth seemingly too far out of reach. you looked ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by your coworkers.

a few hours into your shift you found yourself sitting behind the nurses station filling out paperwork. lunch had passed and when your coworker, steve, asked if you were going to eat something you lied straight through your teeth, telling him you'd grab something when the patients were eating dinner.

but steve rogers could read you like an open book. he knew you were lying because he already knew what was going on. the signs of an eating disorder were quite obvious when you were a licensed therapist. and despite your futile attempts at hiding it, everyone could tell something wasn't right.

steve played it by ear for weeks until he contacted natasha, but by then you'd already lost a considerable amount of weight. as soon as she heard the news, natasha booked the next flight home. unfortunately for her though, there was only one flight and she would have to wait two and a half weeks before being able to leave.

you didn't know it, but those were the longest two and a half weeks natasha ever had to wait.

– patients were having group therapy, so you could tune them out - not that you should, but it was hard to focus when the only two things you could think about were food and your weight.

the need to lose weight sounded so stereotypical for someone with an eating disorder, but honestly it wasn't about that. it was never about wanting to be thin. you genuinely didn't know why this was happening. the only thing you noticed was how rewarding it felt seeing the number go down, as if for you were good for becoming less. it was addictive. and it didn't help that you based your entire worth on how much you could lose.

the next time you stood up from behind the nurses station steve met you in the the cafeteria. while the patients ate you took occasional sips from your smoothie. the bottle was still full of its contents from the morning. you had completely forgotten to drink it during the day, but you didn't seem to mind it that much.

the surprise touch of steve's hand on your shoulder startled you.

i am gross, you thought. do not do that.

steve caught onto the slight flinch your body produced as a reflex, but he didn't say anything about it.

"you can leave early, boss said so."

he laughed as he saw confusion plaster your face.

"what? no!"

"go home, seriously. we have this handled. you know tony doesn't like being told no."

you bit your lip, puzzled by the sudden request. most people wouldn't mind being sent home early, but all it did for you was give you a level of anxiety reserved for food.

what you didn't know was that natasha was home waiting for your arrival. she came back just short of an hour after you left for work.

while you were gone natasha made a few thorough rounds in the house looking for key signs of your eating disorder. there was bound to be evidence given that you didn't know she was home.

unsurprisingly, natasha found a glass scale beside the counter of the bathroom floor along with empty bottles of laxatives in the trashcan. the food in the fridge had been expired a few days past their date, giving her the indication that you weren't eating as much as you should be. her concern grew even more when she found your food journal on your nightstand. flipping the pages, natasha could see that throughout the moths she'd been gone your calorie intake had decreased significantly.

guilt began to gnaw at the back of her throat.

during the few days natasha stopped by, she hadn't noticed anything wrong with you. but then again she knew most people with eating disorders were very good at hiding them up until the point they were discovered. three days wasn't near enough time for her to catch onto your tricks, not when her mind was still focused on her job.

natasha always listened intently whenever you would talk about your eating disorder, the first time being six months into the relationship on a date you felt like you had ruined.

but talking about it was much different than experiencing it with you, natasha had never done that before up until now. she read nearly every article there was about anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and ednos. sometimes when you were asleep she would watch documentaries on the disorder, always making sure to keep her volume at a low level.

the videos that hurt her the most were the ones teenagers struggling with the simple task of eating food.

(although natasha knew it wasn't that simple.)

it hurt because she knew that was you at some point in time.

upon your arrival, natasha cooked dinner. she wanted to hold onto the one sliver of hope that steve was wrong - that he was just overreacting - but she knew in her heart he was right about his assumption. however, dinner would only confirm what natasha so desperately wanted to deny.

when you walked through the door you were greeted with the overwhelming scent of food. you cringed at the thought of having to eat, but as soon as you looked up to see the redhead who'd been gone for so long your frown was washed away. a wide smile overtook your face and you rushed to jump into natasha's arms.

"i missed you so much," you whispered. "i thought you'd be gone for another few weeks?"

natasha's arms found their way around your waist as your legs wrapped around hers. "what? i can't come home early to surprise my wife?" you giggled in the crook of her neck. she smiled feeling the vibrations against her skin, happy to know that you'd missed her just as much as she missed you.

she sat you down, back facing you, she tended to the food. "you've lost weight," she commented, not missing the sharp inhale of your breath.

"how was work, nat?"

she nodded to herself. yeah, she didn't expect you to be so open on the first try.

"it was fine. dinner's ready, i made your favorite!" natasha threw a smile in your direction as she carried the plates over to the table. she had hoped to see your face light up the way it used to, but seeing the panicked look in your eyes further confirmed your relapse.

if nothing else, natasha wanted you to have a meal before she brought up the conversation.

"great... i love it, thank you nat!" your attempt at being enthusiastic failed miserably and you knew by the look she gave you, she already knew what was going on.

but throughout the meal, and despite the shakiness of your hand as it gripped the metal fork, natasha didn't say anything.

you weren't really sure which was worse; being confronted or knowing the both of you knew what the other was thinking and still not addressing it.

natasha's meal was good, you couldn't lie about that, but each bite you chewed caused the tightening in your chest to constrict further.

now you couldn't be good. or worthy. or deserving.

nat took away your plate when you were halfway through. she knew your limits, and she didn't want to push you too much out of your comfort zone.

"go change, i'll wash our dishes. meet you on the couch?"

you did as you were told, taking as long as you could to do so. except this time was different. you didn't glance in the mirror like you usually did, you chose to fully take in your figure.

what you saw was not what you expected to see. for the first time in months you saw a version of yourself that wasn't twisted and turned to be something you didn't know was real or not.

your skin was dry, hair thinned out beyond your belief, eyes sunken and dark underneath. the revelation gave you an odd feeling – was once again something unexplainable, unjustifiable by words.

good.

that was how you were supposed to feel, right? after all of this time, after the many pounds of protection and warmth lost, you were supposed to feel good.

but you didn't. and you never would.

there was something so surreal about the realization of your own destruction. you were aware now, which meant you had to either take responsibility or choose to lose everything you worked so hard for.

"y/n?"

your wife's voice snapped you out of your gaze and you scrambled to pile your dirty clothes and rush out of the bedroom.

as you made your way into the living room you could feel the intensity of natasha's gaze. any other time you would not mind her green eyes looking at you, but this time around you felt like you were in trouble.

she patted the empty spot next to her, to which you reluctantly joined. but even after everything you still tried to play it cool.

"what's up? is everything okay?"

she gave a low chuckle, "you tell me."

"what do you mean?"

"oh i think you know what i mean."

natasha’s reply was met with the loudest silence you ever had to sit through.

she bit her lip, "you know i got a call from steve a few weeks ago. he's concerned about you, and from what he's told me so am i."

you were quick to respond, automatically knowing what steve’s phone call was about. "i'm fine. so what if i've lost a couple of pounds? that doesn't automatically mean that im relapsing, natasha."

your quick snap reminded natasha that this kind of confrontation was like walking on eggshells.

she tilted her head, licking her lips. "i'm here with you, always." nat put a hand to the side of your face, gently rubbing her thumb at the top of your cheekbone. "i'm here."

it seemed pointless now to try and say anything because your secret was already out.

your mind began racing back and forth.

you wanted to keep what you knew best and natasha understood that. even by reading your body language she knew what you were debating.

"you know, to keep it you have to give it away." your eyes darted to meet hers. "mhm. you can still have that piece of you. mourn it, grieve it, do whatever you need to do to move onto a stage where it doesn't hurt you. and from there you can help other people, share your experience, let yourself heal by helping others."

she paused, “we all have choices. some of those choices are taken from you while others leave you with only one option.”

although what she said seemed to resonate with you, there was one thing still holding you back.

"i just want to be good."

natasha hummed. you had explained it to her in the past, though your words were jumbled together as you tried to describe it.

"you can be good in other ways. you're allowed to live a life outside of the barriers your eating disorder puts in the way."

you swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. "i don't even know how it got to this point. in january i enjoyed ihop and dennys. in february i could have oatmeal and bananas, sometimes half of a sandwhich if i was feeling brave. now it’s march and i only eat one or two things a day. the idea of having a full meal makes me want to cry. and i just- i don't know how to stop."

natasha wouldn't show it, but your words cut through her heart like a knife. her mind wandered briefly to all the teenagers in the documentaries she'd watched, hoping you weren't too far gone into your eating disorder to ever come back. those cases scared her the most.

"you've got my complete support. you've tackled this before, maybe this time you can beat it? i know its easier to abuse your body instead of growing comfortable in it, but i think you’ve got this. i know you do."

"what about your work?" your question caused natasha to frown. "you think i wouldn't set my job aside for you?" you shrugged, it's not like you felt like you were worth being taken care of anyway.

natasha grew hesitant to tell you her news, but did it anyway because she’d rather you hate her than see you dead. "i've already made some appointments for you. the first one is tomorrow morning."

"i figured you would natasha. it's okay."

you spaced yourself out the rest of the day. each time you made the executive decision to recover, whether that be a genuine recovery or not, the process never failed to remind you that even trying to recover from an eating disorder felt like mourning the loss of a friend who was never good for you in the first place.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine

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thisdreamplace · 3 years

Text

30 Days of Manifesting the Mental State (Part 1)

Guidelines:

- Focus on manifesting the mental state of who I desire to be

- Let the external world be, the internal world has all my focus

Why?

I was inspired by this short post:

Decide to Manifest the Mental State

My goal with this was to manifest my ideal mental state in regards to whatever I deem important to me, so this was a heavily self concept based challenge. Compared to the challenges I did in the past, where I was interested in physical manifestations.

Reflection:

Y’all, if you feel like you’ve done all you can do and you’re stuck, try this challenge. lmao You will be fucking read to filth. And it’s the best thing ever.

During the first week, I really got shown myself. Before this challenge I thought I was good with not taking the 3D too seriously. By implementing this challenge, I realized how much I actually paid attention to it for validation. Given this challenge is all about manifesting the mindset, I could no longer use the 3D an excuse for why I’m upset or wonder why I see no changes. Because I only had one job and that’s to manifest the mindset, no matter what the 3D shows. I often would remind myself, “I need to conform to myself first.” This helped me to stay on track during the first week.

Plus, I realized, once again I was slacking on everyone is you pushed out as a concept. It really was difficult for me to take responsibility for others. But thanks to this challenge, I couldn’t put this concept on the backburner anymore. And I know if I want the people in my world to change for the better, I must change for the better within first. Once again, “I need to conform to myself first” was such a solid reminder. How could I look at the 3D in disappointment, when I hadn’t even conformed to myself first? This is still a work in progress, but it’s at the forefront of my mind now instead of an afterthought.

After about the first week, things got easier. I read a couple posts that really clicked for me and it honestly became chill af after that. Things started moving more in my life. It’s honestly so weird how the law works. This shit really is subtle as hell, it’s so natural when your world starts conforming you barely even notice. There’s so many things that happen in a day that align with my new conception of self and it’s difficult to remember them all.

But basically, I moved into an entirely new state. Like, things just are not the same for me mentally or with the way I feel. Like... how do I explain this? Basically, my desired self concept has become so natural... a lot of my state of lack habits have disappeared. And I didn’t even expect that to happen. Like, getting worked up about how long it’s been... wondering if I did something wrong... like all of that just vanished. I feel extremely... fulfilled and satisfied. I actually know I did everything I could do. So what else is there to do? I don’t feel the need to search for more anymore. I truly feel satisfied with my mental efforts. I have done my best, now all that is left to be done is to live and allow life to do it’s thing, really.

On the final week, I hit a wall. It was like I simply could not shake the anxiety. Each day I was thankful it came to an end, hoping for a more pleasant following day... that didn’t come. The emotional rollercoaster! I would go from “it’s okay, I don’t need to analyze how I’m feeling” to “okay, wtf is going on????” I was a mess, but as always, I persisted. I know there’s mixed opinions on this, but from my experience I definitely have moments where my mind is purging the old story. And it’s difficult as fuck. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t exist because someone out there might be going through the same. I want y’all to know, we can make it through to the other side.

During those days, I had these moments where I can actually feel myself as God? And it’s not this super powerful feeling. It’s been more... calm and peaceful. Like I just know I am taken care of. Honestly, it usually only lasts in glimpses. But that’s okay. Because I know I am just uncovering that part of me more and more. It’s actually so exciting.

From experience, I know every dip like this on my journey has lead to more mental and emotional freedom. So even though in the moment it feels like absolute meaningless torture, I know it makes sense and it’s happening for a good reason.

But this is where I left off. The challenge ended before I was able to make it through the low moment. So now, I am just going to revamp this challenge with a part 2, with everything I have learned about myself from it.

Best Self Concept Manifestations:

- I have felt more fulfilled than I ever have in my life. And I did that on my own. Pretty fucking great.

- The main theme on my journey has continued to improve: love. People LOVE me. Like they LOVE me lmao. I constantly get compliments on not only my appearance but also my character and who I am as a person. My ideal life is entirely in view, I can see the destination now.

- Not needing to constantly read about the law anymore. This is my favorite, because I love the law. lol So, when I deleted Reddit and actually had weeks pass where I didn’t feel the need to redownload it, it was like wow. I know everything I need to know. There’s nothing else to read. I have my comfort/motivation posts, and I would go back to those time to time. But I have very little interest in the search for “new” information now. There’s nothing else to learn, there’s only concepts to apply.

- Despite the downward spiral, I can say I have definitely seen improvement in my bounce back from the 3D circumstances overall. I have my moments, of course, but overall it’s definitely become easier for me to remember this world is malleable and nothing is set in stone.

- Kdramas. LOL I always end up watching one that aligns with my journey, which is cool af. I started “When the Camellia Blooms” while on this challenge and it was funny because my sister watched in months ago. And she was like, “Dongbaek (the female lead) is the character I said you remind me of.” Which was such a huge compliment. She’s literally what I strive to be? Loved for no reason other than existing and super pretty. LMAO She’s simply adored and unforgettable, simply because she is. That was such a boost to my work on my self concept. It may not sound like the best manifestation ever but for me it was motivation to keep persisting. If I can see it, I can have it. Period.

Conclusion:

This isn’t over yet. I am moving into part 2 of this challenge as we speak, which will be similar but with a more precise focus. So in conclusion, all I can say is try it for yourself. It’s definitely worth it.

Resources That Inspired Me the Most During this Challenge:

Nothing Outside Will Help You Change Your Mind

Dissolving Fears to Manifest Effortlessly

Self Concept, Self Love, and States

Hug Your Inner World Tight

#journey

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thedevillionaire · 3 years

Text

The Twentieth

Okay. ~5,000 words of Underworldian stuff that happens. Well, primarily one thing, really, but not all at the same time. Sort of. Ask me anything, thank you so very much for reading, and...well, here we go.

--- This was not at all how he’d planned for the day of their anniversary to unfold.

In the back of his mind, in corners he’d quite deliberately not lingered for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, he’d known that trouble was possibly oncoming as early as the night before last, the descending fog of nascent illness as recognisable as it was unwelcome. But it had been…at least a year, perhaps close to two, since he’d last felt this way, and he was hoping that he was wrong, and that what were seeming like potential signs of bad news weren’t actually signs at all.

They were.

Cerberus sniffled.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He’d tried, he really had. Discounting those signs as unimportant even as he took precautions because of them, he’d risked nothing, pushed his luck with nothing. He’d even gone to bed several hours earlier than usual last night, and fallen asleep almost immediately on top of that. Unlike his bonded, who’d had a late night and come home at some uncertain hour from one of those social catch-up things she so enjoyed that he was…less inclined towards, even in times when he was feeling entirely well – not that he’d given that as the reason for his disinclination to participate, of course.

Hardly relevant, anyway.

And he’d slept soundly enough that he’d not woken to notice her join him – in fact, he’d been so sapped of energy that from the moment the warmth of the hearth and bedcovers enveloped him, he was out – which just made it all the more ominous that he’d woken feeling like he’d got no rest at all, bone-tired as if no respite had been granted, with a constant, dull headache that so far had refused to resolve, and yesterday’s mild discomfort at the back of his throat sharpening significantly into an active and intrusive concern.

Getting caught in that ridiculous downpour on the way here wouldn’t have helped matters either, he thought bitterly. Although brief, it had been intense, and sudden, and heavy, and though the mercy of Teleport could not have been a more welcome escape, the short time spent in headblurry indecision about whether or not he should utilise it had nonetheless been long enough that his coat had been soaked through. The refuge of the radiant heat of his Office was helping somewhat, at least, and most of his clothing had dried by now – though his hair, which he’d tied back with a loose bow of slender black velvet ribbon to keep errant strands from his face, was still noticeably and uncomfortably damp against his neck. Less so than had he left it unbound, but still…

If he’d ever regretted choosing to walk rather than taking the lazy option before – gods, the damn irony of thinking that the walk would possibly benefit him tonight, of all things – he was sure he’d not regretted it as much as he did right now.

He sniffled again.

Fuck.

---

Closing the folder of Requiem’s surprisingly competently done assignment, he sighed and added it to the small stack of completed works, vaguely wondering if he’d been too generous with the grading. Although he knew the content backwards and could in fact get away with paying very little serious attention, his mind was nevertheless, for the most part, almost entirely on other things.

This was supposed to be the night where, once respective regular mundanities and commitments were out of the way, he would take his beloved to indulge in whichever of the things she most loved to indulge in while on a Visit, utterly at her behest, and completely guilt-free for her with no mandated set goal to achieve, no limitations on immersion, no regulations at all; just an unscheduled and spontaneous trip to the mortal plane, a high-end cocktail bar all dress codes and decadence, and a veritable array of delicious, oblivious Takings there for her pleasure – ahh, darkling, a smorgasbord! – all eyes upon her because nobody, not in the Underworld and certainly no mortal, can compare, and despite his usual personal antipathy towards bothering with the mortal realm, he knew of certain excellences all the same, and he’d put his own preferences aside and simply present her with the glories and spoils she deserved, watch her dance from the shadows and delight in it.

Darkling, I will give you the world.

He’d had every intention of doing precisely that.

And it was also really starting to feel like he was definitely not going to…not going to let this happen, damn it. You’ll be fine, stop putting unnecessary emphasis on transient discomfort, it’s nothing, you know these things pass, just…

He sniffled again, more sharply this time, claimed another tissue and blew his nose, trying to disregard how doing so did nothing much to stop the continuing drip and irritation.

Just get on with it. Honestly. Vaporising the tissue, he took another sip of the honeyed tea that wasn’t doing nearly as much to counteract the sting in his throat as he’d hoped it would, and returned his attention to the job at hand. He noted with distaste as he opened the new folder that yet again it seemed that Hellion hadn’t bothered to proofread the simplest of…

Oh gods.

His breath caught, thoughts ceased, focus helplessly crumbling.

“Hh-hh…”

He rolled his eyes at the inevitability of it, and grabbed another tissue, and another, as the insistent need made itself unstoppably and urgently known.

“Hh-TSCHH-uu! *snff!* Huh-TSSCHH-uu!”

Therion, across the room and in the midst of cataloguing a stupidly confusing array of recently rediscovered and yet unsorted secondgen scrolls, glanced back over his shoulder at Cerberus briefly. “Gesundheit,” he commented offhand, not remotely surprised by this development. Given the constant sniffling that had been going on for the last couple of hours or so, he’d pretty much been expecting that to happen sooner or later. No matter how infrequently the Demon king may catch cold, symptoms were symptoms. Sounding like shit there, boss, he thought, but decided against voicing it.

Cerberus managed a quick thankyou before the demanding urge once again overtook him, and he inhaled deeply, desperately, the force of the sneeze almost doubling him over.

“hhh-AHHTSSCHHUU!”

Therion glanced over again. “You okay, man?”

Cerberus, with a strong sniffle, cleared his throat and made an incidental sound of dismissal. “Mm, fine,” he murmured, which he knew at this point was a complete lie, his head pounding. “Pardon me.” He blew his nose, sniffling again immediately. Ugh. “It’s, um…it’s nothing.”

He returned his attention to Hellion’s paper.

It was, however, no matter his assurance, becoming undeniably something.

Fuck.

---

The hours had somehow simultaneously dragged and flown by, some goals achieved, others – and, to be honest, the ones he’d most been counting on – unfortunately not so.

Cerberus sighed heavily, put aside the last of the assignments he’d reviewed, and, having had quite enough of honeyed tea for one day, poured himself a substantial glass of cognac from the decanter on his desk.

On the plus side, he’d got through a decent amount of the papers, all things considered. On the minus, though, his oncoming cold, rather than resolving into the insignificance he’d hoped for, had instead settled in undeniably, pouring into his head like cement, and he pressed the back of his hand firmly against his nose with enough force for pain to overtake irritation. He vaporised yet another bunch of used tissues, sniffling again, and tried to take his mind off Kia and what she might be thinking, expecting, dreaming, anticipating…

..and what he feared he was not going be able to deliver.

Acceptance of such, however, was still not something he was willing to entertain quite yet.

Damn it, it’s one night. Surely you can at least delay this ridiculousness for one more night. With a lengthy, determined sniffle and heavy exhalation, Cerberus, elbow on desk and hand against forehead, lost himself in a mix of annoyance and self-pity for a moment before an intense rising fury at the situation overtook it, and he frowned, sat up straighter, and drained the glass of cognac entirely.

Do. Better.

With a brief shake of his head, he rubbed his nose and opened the next assignment in the pile, read the name. Ah, Cenotaph, he noted with a slight satisfaction. Shouldn’t be dreadful. Although he nearly always…

His thoughts were jarringly interrupted by the intrusive ring of the telephone, and despite him dearly wishing he could palm this off to Therion, the phone was on the desk, and proximity demanded he be the one to answer. And to make matters worse – apparently that’s possible, and of course it is – he could feel the rising, inexorable need to sneeze again.

No. This is not happening. Just… The idea of being defeated by such a simple, base physical weakness infuriating, he sniffled with sharp determination, crushing a hand clutching a tissue against his nose, and answered the call.

“Demonics.”

Aera took a moment. “Cerbie? Okay, wow. What are you doing in Office?”

I…work here? Cerberus couldn’t quite parse what her intention was, what sort of answer she was expecting. Was that rhetorical, or…? “I don’t… What do you…” He sniffled again, his breath catching momentarily, but he fought the urge back once more, and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. “What?”

“‘Debodics’,” Aera said in mimicry of the congestion destroying his consonants, her tone flippant and biting at the same time.

Frowning in annoyance, his patience worn thin enough as it was, and in no mood to engage, Cerberus snarled a curt, “I’m fine,” and wiped his nose.

Aera scoffed. “You’re seriously going the denial route? Hate to break it to you, but you sure don’t sound fine.”

“Do you have a point?” Cerberus asked tersely, internally cursing his inability to comprehensively prove her wrong – not that she was necessarily wrong, but that was hardly the issue.

“Godssake, Cerbie, you’re such a…” Aera began, but recognised she was probably wasting her time and decided to just let it go. She knew his pattern with this sort of thing, and so she backed off a little – though by no means completely. “Okay, fine, alright, I could be wrong, maybe you’re not sick after all. So, you know, if you’ve been crying or punched in the face or something, go right ahead and clear that up for me.”

Cerberus, exasperated and increasingly distracted, just wanted an end to it all. “Damn it, Aera, can you please try to tear yourself away from the apparently fascinating state of my health for a moment and just tell me what the hell it is you want? *snf!* And you could be a bit more pleasant to me, you know,” he added pointedly. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Aera gasped lightly in realisation, the date having escaped her notice completely. “Oh, shit, it is too! Ah, fuck, sorry, happy anniversary. But, no, anyway, this call does actually have a point. I think I might have left a scarf in your Office yesterday. Do you have it? It’s blue.”

You couldn’t have just asked that immediately? Cerberus glanced around the Office perfunctorily, not seeing anything of the kind. “N…” His breath caught again and he scrubbed his hand roughly under his nose, sniffling sharply, and took a moment before trusting himself enough to answer her. “No.”

“Really? What the hell have I done with it, then?” Aera wondered, partially to Cerberus but mostly to herself, before returning her attention to the conversation at hand. “Oh, and bless you.”

“What?” Cerberus frowned in confusion, his head clouded enough that he wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t missed or forgotten something that surely he ought not to have been able to miss or forget. “I…I didn’t sneeze.” It was…inescapably true that he needed to, but he’d not…

Aera chuckled briefly, quietly. “You will.”

She hung up.

The freedom afforded him by that disconnection, one staggered, desperate inhale was all it took. And in the moment, he didn’t even care that she’d been right. At this point he just wanted relief.

“hh-HH… Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

“Gesundheit,” said Therion again, smiling grimly to himself. He usually minded his own business about this sort of thing – not that it came up much – and indeed still considered staying out of it altogether now. But he hadn’t known about the anniversary factor before, and playing substitute Leader for a few days was hardly the worst fate in the world, and if not tonight it was almost certainly going to come to that fate soon enough anyway, so…

He put the scrolls aside, walking over to stand opposite where Cerberus was seated at the desk. “Hey, man…”

“Huh-AHSSCHuu! *snf!*” Cerberus groaned. “Gods. Excuse me,” he murmured with a heavy sigh, his head and sinuses throbbing. He sniffled wetly, blew his nose, excused himself again, and looked up at Therion somewhat hazily. “Mm?”

Therion half-smiled, casual, non-committal. “Happy anniversary, dude. Didn’t mean to listen in or anything, just…you know. Overheard.”

A small smile of appreciative thanks crossing his face, Cerberus sniffled again and nodded in otherwise silent acknowledgement.

“Just a thought, though,” Therion continued. “If I had a choice between going home to my mad-hot bonded… How many years now, man?”

A heartbeat. An eternity.

“Twenty.”

“Fucking what?!” Therion stared at Cerberus as if he was out of his mind. “Fuck, man! Congrats and shit, but for real? If I had a choice between going home, like, immediately or staying in Office for a few more hours marking shit I could pretty easily get my Understudy to do, actually? I’d be out of here in a fucking microsecond. But, you know, you’re the boss, man. Do whatever. Just saying.” Reaching across the desk, he picked up Cenotaph’s paper and scanned its contents quickly. “I mean, this looks pretty good, I guess, but, you know, Kia probably looks better.” He grinned as Cerberus gave a dark smile in response, and paused only for a short time, but enough that the pause be noted. “Seriously. You know she’d spoil the fuck out of you.”

Cerberus sighed again, regret, bitterness and castigating self-reproach evident in his eyes beneath a haze of sickness he really could no longer deny. Yes, I know, of course I know, but... “The spoiling really was suppo… hh-HH…” He hastily took another few tissues from the box, burying his face in them just in time to catch another fierce sneeze he had no chance of stopping. “AHHTSCHUU! Goddamnit. Pardon me.” He wiped his nose, sniffling again immediately – disturbingly liquid, entirely ineffectual, and with a weariness behind it that he could not disguise. Looking back up at Therion, he returned to his point. “I’d really intended the providing of spoils to be my job tonight. And this…utter ridiculousness—” He made a vague gesture towards his face. “—was supposed to have improved, not worsened, damn it.”

With another heavy sigh, disappointment palpable, he capitulated. “I don’t suppose you keep any cold medication in Office, do you?”

“Sorry.” Therion shook his head. “Go the fuck home, man. I got this.”

Standing, Cerberus nodded briefly in reply, giving Therion a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed by. “Thank you,” he said quietly, and vanished.

---

And naturally half the damn Underworld seems to be here.

Well, he most certainly was not going to queue.

Ignoring the mixture of hushed mutterings and soft gasps from the others in the Healing centre – none of whom he recognised but it was evident from the expressions on the faces of the…many people staring at him that the reverse was not the case – Cerberus walked to the front of the line with only the most cursory of glances at those who he had no intention of waiting either for or behind, greeted Riviera at the front desk perfunctorily and, abruptly beyond caring to hear any more of the continuing intrusive sussurance, froze the entirety of the waiting room’s occupants under Stasis with a crisp wave of his hand.

Dear gods, shut up. I will set you all on fire and I won’t regret it for a second.

He sniffled strongly. “Aldiss, please,” he said to Riviera, who had already Mindsent the Healing Leader in anticipation of precisely that directive.

“On her way,” Riviera replied. She indicated the Stasis-held others. “Um, is that…are they…?”

“Entirely temporary, just expedient. I’ll undo it soon enough.”

Aldiss appeared beside Riviera at the desk, Mindsending her :Cover me for a bit. Room 5, burns, not serious, mostly dealt with already,: and Riviera duly vanished.

At a loss and clearly awaiting clarification, Aldiss turned her attention to Cerberus. “Alright, what are you doing here?”

Cerberus frowned. Why is everywhere I am apparently a surprise tonight? “I’m ill, obviously. Why else would I be here? I need cold medication.” He sniffled again, as if in emphasis, though not intentionally so, and wiped his nose.

“Again? Already?”

Again? There IS no again. I literally just got here. What the hell is going on? Cerberus briefly wondered if he could be hallucinating this entire sequence of events, so little of it seemed to make any coherent sense. “What do you mean ‘already’?” He winced as his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, which did little more than cause him a different kind of discomfort, a convulsive cough following in short order, his nose running again as a result. He sniffled sharply, repeatedly. Gods. For fuck’s sake. “Excuse me.”

“I’m not giving you anything more if you’ve taken the other lot already.”

“Damn it, Aldiss, do I sound like I’ve taken anything?!”

Aldiss did have to concede that point.

Thoroughly exasperated, Cerberus exhaled heavily in annoyance. “Why is everything always such an ordeal in this place?” And suddenly another strangeness occurred to him. “Wait – what other lot?

“The meds Kia picked up, obviously.”

“What?!” Cerberus, a fresh fear striking him – one he was entirely unprepared for, one that actually managed to distract him from his own discomforts for a moment – stared at Aldiss in unconcealed horror. “Kia’s unwell?!”

With a wry smile, Aldiss shook her head. “I swear I never personally get to experience it, but rumour has it you’re actually quite a clever man, Cerberus, so try and stay with me here, alright?” She looked at him with a certain sardonic encouragement. “The meds Kia picked up for you.”

Unfortunately, this didn’t make much more sense to him, if at all. “But what reason would…” He sniffled again. “Why would she do that?” He rubbed and wrinkled his nose against a building itch, took a tissue from the box on the desk, then another, and tried to stay focused.

Aldiss, in mildly amused bafflement that he could actually be this oblivious, stared at the Demon king as if he was a complete imbecile. “Because you’ve got a cold?”

Annoyance clearly evident despite the hitch in his breath, Cerberus frowned at her. “Yes, Aldiss, we’ve established that, but Ki…Kia doesn’t…” Ah, fuck. Bringing the tissues to his face as the itch became sharply definite, he turned away hurriedly. “Huh-ATSSCHH-uu!” He groaned, sniffling immediately, the force of the sneeze bringing to the fore anew the pulsing headache he’d almost, almostbeen able to forget, his breath still a little shaky as he excused himself. He claimed another tissue and wiped his nose, sniffling again, and took a moment before returning to his earlier point. “Kia doesn’t know about *snf!* this yet.”

“Yes, she most certainly does,” Aldiss countered. “What, you didn’t think she’d notice?”

“Well, of course she’d notice now, damn it, Aldiss,” said Cerberus in open irritation, “but I wasn’t nearly this…”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Cerberus. How long have you been together?”

“As it happens, it’s our twentieth anniversary tonight,” Cerberus replied, a bitter and rueful undertone unmissable despite increasing congestion, “which I am attempting not to completely ruin.” Another sharp sniffle. “Apparently a futile pursuit,” he muttered resentfully, and pressed the back of his hand against his nose in an attempt to see off a newly threatening, vibrantly insistent itch.

“Twenty years and you think she’d miss a thing? She knows you. She knows you really well. How do you not…”

“Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

Aldiss sighed as Cerberus, thoroughly losing the battle, sneezed again, wetly and powerfully, and she passed him a handful of tissues as he murmured both an apology and a thankyou. Looking out at the significant number of people yet to be seen, she allowed him some necessary moments of recovery, then made her point. “Listen, I’m sorry you’ve managed to catch cold for your anniversary but you do have both medication and a devoted bonded waiting at home. Please go there. Kia’s probably wondering where the hell you are anyway, since – if I can I remind you – she knows you’re sick. Oh, and you can undo your…stopping people in time thing or whatever it is now, too, thank you very much.”

“As always, Aldiss, it’s been a delight.” Releasing his Stasis hold with a short wave, the murmurs and mutterings picking up precisely where they’d been cut off as if there had never been a break, Cerberus turned his gaze briefly upon his unbidden rapt audience, disregarded them all equally, internally cursed himself for having even bothered to come to this ridiculous place, inclined his head in crisp farewell, and promptly vanished.

---

Leaning back against the loungeroom wall in weary resignation upon his Teleported arrival home, Cerberus stopped still, his attentions resolutely redirected in an instant at the entirely unexpected sight of his beautiful lifebonded reclining languorously across the couch, dressed – or almost dressed, it could technically be said – in diaphanous babydoll chemise and finest lace lingerie, soft brunette darkestness falling silkenwild around her shoulders, a vision of breathtaking boudoir fantasy he was quite thoroughly unprepared for, and he paused for a moment to simply gaze at her, enchanted.

:Darkling, you are perfection.:

Kia looked up slowly, and with a sultry, indulgent smile, dropped her book onto the coffee table and stretched before sitting up just a little, beckoning him to join her with crooked finger and open invitation.

“Took your time, sweetheart,” she said, gently teasing, and opened the bottle of cognac, pouring a glass for them both. “I’d almost decided to start without you.”

“Love, I…” Cerberus began but was torn from his words unstoppably, unable to do anything about the sudden, desperate need overtaking him, and, expression crumpling and focus destroyed, he had no choice but to give in to it. “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” He pardoned himself with haste, groaning quietly.

“Aw, bless you, hon. Come here.” Kia repeated her beckoning motion. She regarded him a moment, frowning in puzzlement. “Where’s your coat?” She’d not seen him leave the house this morning, but she was entirely certain he’d have worn one.

“Hmm? Oh, um…” Cerberus sniffled, wiped his nose and glanced down at himself, not having given any particular thought to his outfit – his standard fine linen shirt, brocade waistcoat, tailored black pants – since leaving Office.

Which was, of course, where he’d left his coat.

“Got rained on. Earlier, that is, not… A while ago, anyhow.” He sniffled again and tried to focus. “In Office. The coat, I mean, not where the…rain was.” He sighed in exasperation as anger at the situation overtook tiredness again. “Honestly, it would be nice if I could at least form a damn sentence!” Gods, what the hell is wrong with you. Get your damn shit together. “Sorry, love. I, um…used Teleport after that, though, so I’ve not really been outside since.”

“Well, coat or not, you were supposed to have given up and come home ages ago.” Kia laughed gently. “You know, like a normal person. Why are you always so stubborn about this stuff?” She caressed his face affectionately as he sat beside her, curled an arm around the back of his neck, and kissed him with warm promise. :And don’t you even dare say a word about not wanting to give your cold to me,: she Mindsent preemptively. :Yes, I know, no, I don’t care, and there is no way I’m not kissing you on our twentieth anniversary.:

“Anyway,” she continued in satin murmur, tracing a finger along the angular contours of his jawline and kissing him again, “you know I’ll spoil you.” She looked at him directly then, sapphire eyes narrowing in challenge. “You do know that, right?”

“I…” He did, but between the desire not to need her to – at least not tonight – and rather for him to be, as he’d so very much intended, the one fulfilling any fantasies, and the desire to just try and forget failed plans and expectations and immerse in her…frankly stunning sanctuary, and his head was far too clouded to explain himself right now, and technically he had left Office early anyway so he wasn’t that late really, especially considering he hadn’t realised that he’d been expected, but what did any of this even matter when this goddess before him was so…very… He sniffled again, claiming a tissue and wiping his nose firmly, and wished he was at least a little more functional because she was so incredibly breathtaking, and that was all he could think about in the moment, really, aside from feeling like he was fairly sure he was going to sneeze again – which, when combined with the first and…infinitely preferable reason that he couldn’t think straight, provided a particularly strange contradiction in where his attentions were directed, and now he couldn’t with certainty remember exactly what she’d asked him anymore, and she was just…gods, she was everything, and his head was a mess and he…definitely had to…

He blinked rapidly, his breath hitching in escalating intensity, and turned from Kia to bury his face in crooked elbow. Gods, fuck, just…

“Huh-TSSCHH-uu! Ahh-HUHTSSHhuu!”

The force of the sneezes combined with the pounding throb of sinus-heavy headache to set the room spinning, but despite that had done very little to quiet the insistent irritation he just could not seem to escape tonight. Another staccato breath and fuck ano… hh-HH ..another and a Mindsent apology because he was entirely unable to voice one, doubling over in thrall to desperate demand, powerful, possessing. “Hhuh-AHTSCHUU! Huh…hh-TSSCHH-uu!”

“Oh, sweetheart, bless you.” Kia indicated the medications she’d collected on the table, though she wasn’t sure there was much point, his ability to focus entirely and…mesmerisingly hijacked. “You should probably…”

Cerberus, with a brief shake of his head, held up a finger in a gesture indicating that she had to wait a moment, the relentless need not done with him yet, and he inhaled deeply, unable to do a thing about it other than succumb once more, and he sneezed again – undeniable, absolute, violently ferocious. “Hh-hhAAAHTSSCHHUU! ..uhh…” A quiet groan and he pressed the back of his hand against his nose, sniffling fiercely, more than a little breathless. “Damn. Sorry.”

“Wow, bless you!” Kia said with softriveted, emphatic appraisal, and flashed him a wickedwarm grin. “Impressive. You should get a prize for that kind of effort.”

“Gods, love.” Smiling wryly despite himself, Cerberus managed a brief disbelieving laugh before having no choice but to give in to sharpburning sensation, his breath catching abrupt, deep, jagged, pleading. “hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU! For fuck’s sake! *SNFF!* Ugh, sorry.” Sniffling repeatedly, he excused himself again with clear irritation even as Kia offered him a tender blessing. He took a fresh multitude of tissues from the box and blew his nose, muttering under his breath that in any reasonable world he’d get to kill at least one person over this, and if…

“Oh, look!” announced Kia with cheery brightness, breaking into his thoughts and picking up one of the medication vials. “You win drugs.” She handed the vial to Cerberus with a kiss to his cheek, effectively short-circuiting his rising fury at the situation, and trailed a languid hand down the length of his arm, dropped her voice to a sultry purr. “I’ll even throw in the glamorous assistant.” She semi-curtseyed, winked in play.

With a soft laugh and a sigh both appreciative and self-effacing, Cerberus accepted and took the meds as proffered, curling an arm across Kia’s shoulders, drawing them closer together, and leant his head against hers, Mindsending a heartfelt, sincere :I adore you.:

“I’m so sorry, darkling.” He ran an index finger under his nose, sniffled quietly, exhaled with dismayed heaviness at the thought of having let his beloved down, in any way. “I really did mean to give you everything you desire tonight.” He sat back again; smiled at her, a little sadly. “And I truly do wish to bring you the world you deserve. All the worlds, come to that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. And I know that you’re, like…literally able to do it, which still just amazes me and will forever, I swear, you’re incredible, but…really, you don’t need to be disappointed. See, I want you—” Shifting her position smoothly, Kia moved to sit on his lap, her legs astride his, and caressed his face in her hands, kissing him with passion burning. “Mmm. I want you—” Another kiss. “—to think for just a minute—” And another. “—from a different view.” Reaching behind his head, she untied the velvet ribbon constraining his hair, allowing it in release to cascade over his shoulders. She wove a gentle hand through freed midnight, tucked a few stray strands behind his ear. “If things were reversed, if I was the one who’d come home sick tonight, what would you have done?”

Cerberus chuckled wryly, softly, as he recognised her viewpoint. He didn’t pretend otherwise. “Anything you wanted, love, as always.”

Kia gave him a knowing smile. “Mm-hm.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him again, slower, deeper. “So, then, babe,” she purred, tracing a trail of kisses down his neck, shoulders, chest, “you should know that you are everything I desire, everything I dream of, and the only way you could ever let me down is to not be with me tonight, and now I am going to order you into the bedroom and you are going to do exactly what I say and that is pretty much what would have happened even with you in perfect health with your perfect plan, because you should know—” She broke off again, kissing him with a craving undeniable, abandoning speech for silksultry Mindsend.

:that all I want:

One hand now twining through his hair, the other first toying with then smoothly untying the topmost bows on her chemise, allowing it to fall away, and she pulled him closer to her again, deepening the kiss at his involuntary resulting moan.

:is…this.:

Another kiss and her hand reaching down, loosening clothing and caressing him to urgency, and he moaned again, curling one arm around her waist and another behind her head, holding her around him and returning her kiss with a fire straight from his soul, feeling her breath quickening, demanding, as she pushed back against him, heat rising. A soft growl, a gasp, a sharp inhalation as they joined together, and she met her beloved’s famed emerald gaze eye to eye, consummate, profligate, incendiary.

“Oh, and sweetheart? Tonight I am going to make you wish you caught cold more often.”

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#inopportune timing mm-hm count on it #snzfic #my writing #my OCs #cerberus #cerbia #cerberus and kia #and she's absolutely right 😉#bit of a slow burn but we get there #supernatural soap opera

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