#it's the grief and the everything else i know

[helenofsparta2]

Having the whole plot between Nico and Percy be resolved simply with “You’re not my type” in Blood of Olympus was such a huge disservice to both characters

They are pivotal parts to each others journey. No person in PJO influenced Nico as much as Percy did, aside from Bianca, and no person represents Percy’s guilt and the responsibility he had to shoulder more than Nico does. The writing for both characters really suffers through this lack of a real satisfying resolution.

First to talk about what Percy represents for Nico:

Percy, first of all, represents Nico’s introduction to the mythological world

He is the first demigod Nico ever came in contact with

He saved him and Bianca from the manticore (somewhat)

Nico stated in Blood of Olympus than Percy had reminded of the heroes of his mythomagic game come to life

Nico wholeheartedly believed that Bianca would be safe, if Percy was with her and created this image of the perfect hero in his mind, putting Percy on a pedestal

2.

In Nico’s mind Percy is irrevocably intertwined with Bianca and everything that happened to her

Despite Nico naively believing, that Bianca would be safe if Percy were around, he was instead the last person to ever talk to her, and present when she died

Percy informed Nico of her death (Dead silence. I stared at Chiron. I couldn’t believe nobody had told him yet. Then I realized why. They’d been waiting for us to appear, to tell Nico in person, Titan’s curse)

Nico turned him into the scapegoat for her death, so that he could let all his grief and anger and bitterness out on him

Bianca sent Iris-messages to Percy, so that he would find and help Nico (“Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Her ghost only appeared to Nico when Percy was with him

Percy is the only person Nico knows of, who also grieved for Bianca (“Bianca,” I said. My voice was thick. I’d felt guilty about her death for a long time but seeing her in front of me was five times as bad, like her death was fresh and new. I remembered searching through the wreckage of the giant bronze warrior she’d sacrificed her life to defeat, and not finding any sign of her. “I’m so sorry,” I said. Battle of the Labyrinth)

3.

Percy is the person who protected and cared for Nico more than anyone else in pjo

Tried to convince Bianca to think more deeply about her decision of joining the hunters, especially thinking of him (“Biance, this is crazy,” I said. “What about your brother? Nico can’t be a hunter.” (Titan’s curse)

Searched the woods in the dark for hours after he had disappeared (Annabeth and Grover helped me search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo.)

Didn’t tell Chiron about Nico’s parentage to protect him from the Gods. (I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out—") Titan’s curse)

Decided to completely commit to the prophecy, solely so Nico didn’t have to bear that burden and go trough any more suffering(It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger," I said. "I owe that much to his sister. I… let them both down. I'm not going to let that poor kid suffer any more." ) Titan’s curse)

Searched for Nico in the months after Titan’s Curse (Now, six months later, I hadn’t even come close to finding him. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. Battle of the labyrinth, chapter 3))

Saved his life on Geryon’s farm. (“Either way, you get my friends,” I said. “But, if I succeed, you’ve got to let all of us go, including Nico.”)

Always offered Nico a place at camp half-blood to the best of his abilities (“We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.”“No.”“Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes, maybe they can make an exception and put you in the big house. They’ve got plenty of room.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Invited him to join him on his birthday (“Is that… is that blue birthday cake?”He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. I wondered if the poor kid had ever had a birthday party, or if he’d ever been invited to one. “Come inside for cake and ice cream,” I said. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Reminded him that he was still a child (I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him the statue, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Helped him to get the sword of hades back to impress his father (Then I looked at Nico. Unfortunately, I recognised the expression on his face. I knew what it was like wanting to make your dad proud, even if your dad was hard to love., Sword of hades)

Acknowledged everything Nico did in The last Olympian and is one of the main reasons why Hades has a cabin at camp. ( “But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that.”)

4.

Percy was Nico’s first, and after Will, his biggest love

Nico had feelings for Percy, which didn’t leave him for around 2 1/2 years, and accompanied him throughout the most challenging parts of his life. 

Feelings, which were so deep, the god of love personally acknowledged them.

Favonius even called Percy, the person Nico cares about most in House of Hades.

This was more than just a mere crush

Percy is so completely intertwined with most aspects of Nico’s character arc, in both PJO and Hoo, be it his feeling of ostracism, his relationship to Bianca or him coming to term with his own sexuality, that them not having a final interaction, makes his writing feel shallow and unfinished. Especially Nico coming to terms with his crush on Percy opens up the opportunity for a really heartwarming conversation and a moment of character growth and maturity for both of them, instead of it being wasted on one throw-away line.

And it’s the same the other way around. Nico is also a huge part of Percy’s journey.

He especially represents Percy’s biggest failure.

The first five Percy Jackson books are characterized by Percy having to take up responsibility and him being afraid of not being able to fulfill them. Be it responsibility for camp, the world, Bianca’s death, the prophecy, his friends, teh unclaimed demigods, or everything else. Most of the time, Percy was able to make sure everything turned out fine. He saved camp, he saved Olympus, he finished his quests, made the right decision for the prophecy, and he made the gods swear upon teh styx. But there’s one exception. And that is Nico.

Percy did everything in his power to make sure Nico would be spared any more hardships. He took up the burden of the prophecy, explicitly, so that Nico doesn’t have to go through any more hardships

He searched for him after Titan’s curse, kept his identity a secret and even risked himself, Annabeth, Grover and Tyson dying if it meant saving Nico

Still, Nico is one of the characters, if not the character, who has suffered the most in PJO and Hoo, even partly because of Percy (though, of course, Nico having a crush on him was not Percy’s fault at all)

He lived alone at 11 years old on the streets and in the labyrinth, while getting manipulated by an ancient evil spirit

He was isolated and ostracized at camp half-blood

He experienced the horrors of Tartarus completely on his own

He got captured by the giants and slowly suffocated to death in a small jar

He had to deal with internalized homophobia and his complicated feelings regarding Percy

He has been a vital part of two wars at only 15 years old

Had to admit his crush involuntarily in front of Jason, etc.  

One of the things Percy battles with in Heroes of Olympus is this overwhelming sense of guilt. He blames himself for almost everything that went wrong over the last few years. Be it for Iapetus, Calypso, or especially Nico. Having Percy acknowledge this complicated relationship he has with him during House of Hades, but not allowing the two of them to talk it out is genuinely baffling to me, and one of the (albeit many) reasons why I really don’t like most of Percy’s writing during Heroes of Olympus, despite the fact that he is my favourite character by far. This could have led to a moment of character growth, where Nico helps Percy to aknowledge that he feels guilty for things he had little to no control over, while Nico himself realizes how important he actually is to Percy.

They are also so similar in terms of who they are and what they’ve been through, that even if you ignore their history with each other, it seems insane, that they didn’t interact in any meaningful way:  

Both were ostracized at camp half-blood because of their parentage, and so far are the only two half-bloods we know of with that experience

They are (together with Hazel) the most powerful demigods in the Riordan verse, and have feats which far surpass anyone else’s

Both are in some way afraid of their powers

Both went through Tartarus

Both have relatively similar relationships to their godly parents

Both have gone through immense trauma and loss

And if you read heroes of Olympus, it actually very much seems to build towards a final resolution of their relationship

Percy and Nico were, aside from Frank, the two people closest to Hazel; both saw her as a little sister, and Hazel treated them both like her brothers

Nico was the first person Percy met from his old life

Percy was the one, who received the visions of Nico being captured

From everyone present, Percy trusted Nico to lead the others to Greece in his moment of greatest desperation

They both had introspections about the other in house of Hades, Nico having to deal with his crush and Percy with his guilt in Tartarus

But, in the end, after they met again, nothing happened. The only scene we really got was the “You’re not my type” line and Percy being surprised by it for a couple seconds. That’s it.

We saw no meaningful conversation between the two of them, no acknowledgement of what they’ve been through together, no lasting feelings. Nothing.

In regards to their relationship, Percy acknowledging everything that Nico has been through led to nothing. Nico acknowledging his feelings for Percy and finally letting go of this pedestal he had placed him on led to nothing. You could argue that their entire relationship, which has been built up since Titan’s curse led to nothing. And considering that they are so important characters for each of their character arcs, their characterization very much suffers from this writing decision.

The two of them, together with Hazel, are my three favourite Riordan verse characters by a long shot, but some very important aspects of both of their characters fall so flat to me through this lack of a satisfying resolution.

 Both of them deserved so much better.  

They are the friendship with the most missed potential in the entirety of the Riordan verse and probably the most fleshed out and nuanced relationship Rick ever wrote.

R.I.P.  Nico di Angelo, and Percy Jackson, you will always be brothers in my mind.

[dissapointu]

i love your writing so much!! you are so quickk! may you do how arcane characters would react to a partner who is very confident in themselves and the reader doesn’t hesitate to stick up for the arcane characters??

STOPPP, you’re making me blush, like seriously 🥺🥺 THANK YOU!!

———————————————————————

Jinx

She eats this UP like candy. You stand up for her with that no-nonsense, “Touch her and find out” energy, and she’s immediately wrapped around your finger.

“WOOOOO, BABY!” she yells, pointing at whoever dared cross her. “They’re with me, loser!”

Later, she’s buzzing, practically climbing onto your shoulders while you’re just trying to sit down.

“Do it again,” she whispers dramatically. “Defend my honor or whatever.” She’s obsessed and thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.

Vi

Oh, Vi is smirking so hard it hurts. You’re out here, no hesitation, ready to fight her battles before she can even crack her knuckles.

“Alright, alright, relax,” she says, pulling you back before you throw hands. “They’re not worth your time.”

But later? She’s grinning ear-to-ear, punching your arm like, “I like that fire. You’re pretty badass, you know that?”

You’re her ride-or-die, and if anyone messes with you two, it’s curtains.

Sevika

Sevika is TORN between being annoyed and completely wrecked by your loyalty. She’s used to handling everything herself, so when you step in like, “Back the hell off before I make you,” she’s like, “Excuse me?!”

But deep down? She’s got that little flutter in her chest, even if she’d rather die than admit it.

“Don’t go getting yourself hurt on my account,” she grumbles after, lighting a cigar. But there’s a softness in her eyes that says, “You mean everything to me.”

Silco

Silco is living for this, okay? You defending him—him, the guy who trusts no one—just solidifies that you’re not like anyone else.

He’ll give you that slow, calculating smile and lean in close.

“My dear,” he murmurs, “you truly are one of a kind.”

He’ll never ask you to step in for him, but when you do, it cements your place as his equal, his confidant. You’re his anchor in a world full of chaos, and he’ll treasure you for it.

Vander

Vander is SO PROUD of you. Like, it physically pains him how proud he is. You step up with that big “don’t mess with my man” energy, and he’s in the background, arms crossed, smiling like a soft dad.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he says later, pulling you into one of his massive bear hugs.

But he’ll also gently remind you to pick your battles because he doesn’t want you getting hurt. (Still, he’s telling the whole bar how lucky he is to have someone like you.)

Ekko

Ekko is absolutely FLOORED the first time you go off for him. He’s used to fighting his own battles, so having you step in and defend him catches him completely off guard.

“Yo, did you just—?!” he starts, but then he’s laughing, shaking his head. “Okay, okay, I see you.”

He’s hyping you up like crazy after. “That’s my partner, y’all!” You’re basically a power couple now, the ultimate Zaunite dream team.

Jayce

Jayce gets this big, goofy smile whenever you defend him. Somebody’s coming for his ideas, and you’re like, “Actually, maybe listen to the genius who invented Hextech? Just a thought.”

He’ll pull you aside after, blushing like crazy.

“Thanks for that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

You’re basically his number one hype person, and he’s OBSESSED with how confident and supportive you are.

Viktor

Oh, you defending Viktor? Immediate heart eyes. He’s so used to being underestimated that your fierce loyalty completely disarms him.

“Thank you,” he says softly, avoiding your gaze because he’s blushing so hard.

But later, when it’s just the two of you, he’ll pull you into a quiet hug and whisper, “You’re remarkable, you know that?”

You make him feel like he’s worth standing up for, and that’s everything to him.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is secretly swooning every time you step in for her. Someone’s giving her grief, and you’re there, shutting it down with total confidence.

“Darling, you’re going to get us both in trouble,” she teases, but her smirk says she loves it.

She’s used to being the one standing up for others, so having you in her corner feels like a breath of fresh air. She’ll thank you later with a sweet kiss and a soft, “I’m lucky to have you.”

Mel Medarda

Mel is ALL ABOUT IT. You stand up for her in that smooth, confident way, and she’s just sitting there like, “That’s my partner. Aren’t they magnificent?”

Later, she’ll take your hand, her voice low and honey-smooth.

“You never fail to impress me,” she says, her gold eyes sparkling.

Mel loves how fearless and self-assured you are—it’s the perfect match for her own power and grace. Together? You’re unstoppable.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa watches you step up for her with that little smirk of hers, arms crossed like she’s sizing you up all over again.

“Well done,” she says, her tone full of approval. “You’re as bold as I hoped you’d be.”

She loves that you’re fearless enough to stand by her side, and she’ll absolutely reward you later (in her own very Ambessa way).

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger is SO FLUSTERED the first time you stick up for him.

“Oh my goodness, I—I hardly know what to say!” he stammers, his little ears twitching like crazy.

He’s not used to that kind of boldness, but he’s touched beyond words. Expect him to shower you with gratitude and possibly build you a tiny invention as thanks.

Salo & Scar: They’re both a little thrown at first, but they respect the hell out of you for it. They’ll grumble something like, “Didn’t need your help, but… thanks,” but you can tell they’re grateful.

Maddie: Maddie’s laughing her head off. “Damn, you’ve got some guts! I like it.” She’s telling everyone in Zaun about how badass her partner is.

Lest: Oh, sweet Lest is a blushing mess. She can barely get out a thank-you because she’s so flustered, but she’s touched beyond words. Later, she’ll quietly tell you, “You didn’t have to do that, but… it means a lot.”

TL;DR: You being super confident and standing up for them? Peak power couple energy. Whether they’re swooning, smirking, or silently crying inside, every Arcane character is down BAD for your fearless loyalty.

[marysfics]

Through the Dust

Alexia Putellas x DownhillRacer!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Other Chapters: click here

This is a multichapter fic, and trust me, you’re in for one wild ride. Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Grief, Kisses.

Word count: 1.8k

Chapter 6: ''The Brink of Something Real''

A few weeks had passed since the mountain cabin, and things had settled into an almost comfortable rhythm. You and Alexia had stayed in touch, messages and calls filling the spaces in between your busy schedules. She was back in Spain now, her pre-season training ramping up with the team, but even then, you could feel the connection between you two still lingering, soft and unspoken. You weren’t rushing into anything, not yet. You both needed time to figure out what it all meant—whatever "it" was—but there was a comfort in knowing that she was there. That you were talking.

You couldn’t say no when they asked you. It was an opportunity you’d dreamed of—an event that had long been seen as a men’s-only challenge. But now? It felt like everything had changed. And while the course scared you more than you cared to admit, it also pushed you to the edge in a way nothing else had. This was your chance. But, as always, the nervous buzz of competition made it hard to keep your mind focused on anything else.

Before the race, Alexia had called you. She’d been insistent, her voice a mix of teasing and something softer underneath.

"I’m watching, you know," she’d said, almost defiantly, like she was challenging herself to be there. "I’m dragging my mother and sister in front of the TV to watch you."

You had to laugh, picturing her usual unflappable self being so... invested. "Are they even into downhill racing?" you asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

Alexia’s chuckle filled your ears. "My sister is asking more questions than I can answer, and my mom keeps raising an eyebrow at me. She doesn’t get it, but... I think she knows it’s important. She sees me getting all nervous."

You felt a soft heat in your chest at the thought of Alexia’s family watching you. Nervous? You smiled, pushing aside the flutter of excitement and anxiety that came with it. "Tell them to keep their eyes peeled. I’ll show them how it’s done."

A little later in Alexia's apartment, Alexia was sitting with her arms crossed, her legs bouncing restlessly. She kept glancing at her phone, waiting for the race to begin. It was strange for Eli and Alba, having Alexia—who had never shown much interest in extreme sports—suddenly insisting that they watch a dangerous downhill cycling race. Eli had her reservations, but when Alexia had insisted so strongly, she knew something was going on.

"Why are we watching this again?" Alba asked, eyeing the screen with confusion as she adjusted the pillows on the couch. "Since when do you watch things like this, Ale?"

Alexia didn’t answer immediately, focusing instead on the screen where the pre-race interviews were playing. She had a nervous energy about her that Eli couldn’t ignore, the way her daughter’s foot tapped restlessly against the floor. It was clear to Eli that this race was more than just a race for Alexia.

Her eyes narrowed, a knowing look passing between her and Alba. “You’re nervous,” Eli said softly, watching her daughter closely. “Why? What’s going on?”

Alexia froze for a moment, her lips pressing together as she looked at her mom, but then her gaze drifted back to the screen. “I’m not nervous. I just… want her to be safe. It’s her last race of the season, Mom.”

Alba leaned in with interest, still oblivious. “Safe? Who are you talking about, Ale? You barely even know the riders."

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You never watch anything like this, Ale. But now you’re glued to it?” She paused, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “It’s about more than just the race, isn’t it?”

Alexia’s face flushed slightly, and she avoided her mother’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly, but the slight blush creeping up her neck told Eli everything she needed to know.

Alba looked back and forth between them, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean? What’s going on, Ale?”

Eli watched Alexia, sensing the moment of truth. Finally, she broke her silence, her voice soft but teasing. “Ale, are you seeing someone from this race?”

Alexia’s face turned bright red. “Maybe,” she mumbled, but it was enough to send Alba into a state of shock.

“Oh my God,” Alba gasped, her eyes wide. “Are you dating someone from the race? What is this? You’ve never been like this before!”

Alexia let out a small groan, her face still flushed. “It’s not like that, okay? She’s planning to visit soon. After this, she’s got the off-season. She’ll come here, and… we’ll see how it goes.” Her words were rushed, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, but there was something undeniably soft in the way she said it.

Eli smiled warmly at her daughter, sensing the subtle shift in Alexia’s energy as she spoke about you. "Well, it sounds like you’re really fond of her," Eli said, her voice gentle but knowing. "It’s nice to see you like this, Ale. I haven't seen you this excited about someone in a long time."

Alexia’s face flushed again, a little more this time, and she glanced at the TV where you were making your way toward the finish line. "It’s just... different, Mom. She’s different. I just... feel good when I talk to her." Her voice trailed off slightly, as if unsure of how to explain what she was feeling, but the sincerity in her words was clear. "And she’s been through a lot, too. I respect that."

Alba tilted her head, still processing the information. “Wait a second. Are you telling me you’re seeing a woman, Ale?” The question was blunt, but there was no judgment in it, just the curiosity of a younger sister trying to make sense of something new.

Alexia opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. There was something about this moment, a quiet realization that maybe she didn’t need to hide it anymore. She looked over at her mother, then back at Alba. "Yeah," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I think I am."

Eli let out a soft sigh, her smile widening as she nudged Alba playfully. "You’re looking at her like she’s grown a second head. Relax, Alba. Your sister’s allowed to have a life outside of football."

Alba blinked, clearly still processing, but she finally shrugged. "Okay, fine. But you have to promise me something, Ale."

Alexia raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You better introduce us to her when she comes to visit," Alba said with a grin. "I want to know everything. You can’t just drop this bomb on me and leave me hanging!"

Alexia laughed, the tension in her body easing. "I promise," she said, her voice softening. "You’ll meet her soon. And you can ask all the questions you want, okay?"

Alba gave a satisfied nod. “Good. But seriously, Ale, I’m kind of in shock right now. My big sister is dating someone from downhill cycling? What even is that sport? How did you end up with someone so... different?"

Alexia let out a small laugh, trying to shake off the teasing but feeling a little flustered. "It’s just a sport, Alba," she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. "It's actually pretty intense. You'd be surprised."

Alba raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "Intense? You mean, like, you just race down a mountain on a bike at insane speeds and call that 'intense'?" She let out a dramatic sigh. "Sounds like something out of a movie. Are you sure you're not falling for someone who’s just trying to get themselves killed?"

Eli shot a look at Alba, a quiet warning in her gaze, but Alexia couldn’t help but laugh again. "I wouldn’t put it that way, but… yeah, it’s a bit crazy. But there’s more to it than just the danger. It’s about skill, control, knowing yourself, your limits. It’s a lot like football, in a way," Alexia explained, though she wasn't sure if her sister really understood.

Alba crossed her arms, still skeptical but clearly intrigued. "I guess. But what’s she like, Ale? Like, really like? You’ve got me curious now."

Alexia hesitated for a moment, her thoughts wandering back to you. She was still processing everything that had happened since they'd met—how you’d slipped under her guard so easily, how your laugh made her stomach flip. "She’s different," Alexia said finally, her voice softer now. "I can’t even really explain it. She’s real. And there’s something about her that’s… refreshing."

Alba looked at her older sister, clearly seeing how this conversation was affecting her. "Uh huh," she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "I bet she’s got you all twisted up in knots."

Alexia rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Maybe."

Meanwhile, as the race continued on the screen, Alexia’s attention was mostly on you. You were approaching the final stretch, and every twist, every jump, every corner, had her on the edge of her seat. Her heart pounded harder as you got closer to the finish line.

She glanced over at her mother and Alba, who were sitting on either side of her, both of them oblivious to the quiet storm of nerves swirling inside her. Alba had a knowing look on her face, but she didn’t say anything more. Instead, she turned her focus back to the race, watching the way you maneuvered through the last few hurdles of the course.

Suddenly, Alba leaned forward, eyes widening. "Wait a minute… that’s her, isn’t it?" she asked, pointing at the screen.

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat as she watched you in action. It was one thing to hear about the race, another to see you in your element, your confidence and determination shining through every turn.

The way you held your line, how you pushed through the hardest parts without hesitation, made something in Alexia’s chest tighten. She could almost hear your voice in her head, that same soft but firm tone you had when you said you’d be okay. But now, watching you race, she realized just how much she cared, how much she hoped you would cross that finish line without injury, without trouble.

As you made the final push and crossed the finish line with the fastest time, Alexia let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. It was more than just relief—it was pride. You’d done it. And something deep inside her shifted.

Alba, still watching intently, leaned back with a grin. "Well, looks like Ale’s in love," she said, her voice teasing but light.

Alexia, still holding her breath from the race, turned to her sister. "What?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

Alba’s eyes gleamed. "Come on, Ale. I’m not blind. You’ve got that lovesick look in your eyes. I can tell. That’s her, isn’t it?"

Alexia's face went bright red, and she turned away quickly, her heart hammering in her chest. "I’m not... I don’t know," she mumbled, her words tripping over themselves.

But Alba was persistent. "You definitely know. Don’t even try to deny it." She glanced at their mom, who was watching with amusement.

"Mom, tell her. She’s totally into her."

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

End of chapter 6.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Author's note: smth for my angsty people. Inspo from amazing writer of all times @rssmary

SAM MONROE thought he'd never find someone who truly understood him. Then there was you—brilliant, kind, and everything he didn’t think he deserved. You were his lifeline, the one who believed in him when no one else did. When you told him you were pregnant, he was terrified, but your excitement and unwavering faith in him made him believe he could be better for you—for both of you.

But life is cruel.

The labor was supposed to be hard but worth it. Everyone told him that once he heard the baby’s first cry, he’d forget the pain of waiting. But when your hand went limp in his, and the machines blared around him, he forgot everything else instead.

Time stopped as they pulled him away, shoving your baby into his arms while they tried to save you. The nurses told him to hold on to the little one, to stay strong, but all he could do was stare at your lifeless body through the window, his mind refusing to accept the reality.

You were gone..

You

Were

Gone

He tried to understand the meaning of the words

Days bled into nights as Sam sat in the nursery, the small bassinet feeling like a cruel mockery. The baby—their baby—was beautiful, with tiny fingers and your nose. But every time he looked at them, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. It was like holding his heart outside his body and knowing it came at the cost of losing his own soul.

The funeral was unbearable. He didn't appear at the ceremony, hell, it pained him to even think about going there. Yet, he still did. Out of respect and love he had for you.

He stood there alone hours after the ceremony, staring at your casket, tears streaming down his face. 'I can’t do this without you' he whispered into the silence.

Because who he was? A random guy who wore eyeliner and constantly did drugs now to raise a child alone?

Yet, still, he had to.

The first night without you was the longest of his life. The baby cried and cried, and Sam had no idea what to do. He was a mess—fumbling with bottles, pacing the floor, begging them to stop screaming. At some point, he sank to the floor, the baby against his chest as he sobbed into their tiny body. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

His mother was all supportive, helping Sam to do the stuff he never thought he'd have to do, but Sam refused to let anyone fully take over.

'They’re all I have left of her' he'd constantly say, not letting anyone to his room

Every milestone felt like a knife to the chest. The first time they smiled, he saw you. The first time they babbled, he heard your voice. And yet, he celebrated it all because he knew that’s what you would’ve wanted.

Sam made sure they grew up knowing you. He told them stories about your laugh, how you used to tease him, and how you were the bravest person he’d ever known. “Your mom,” he’d say, his voice holding onto the life to not break, “she was magic..wherever she is right now, she definitely loves you so much”

But there were nights when the grief swallowed him whole. When he’d sit in the nursery, the baby fast asleep in his arms, and cry silently. He’d whisper to the darkness, wishing you could see them, wishing you could see him trying so hard not to break.

“Why’d you leave me?” he asked once, his voice cracking as he rocked your baby in his arms. “How am I supposed to do this without you?”

He'd often find himself doing something so out of character to him - each week he wrote you long letters about the baby, about new stuff they did or how he got peed on while changing the diaper. Letters were hidden properly under his bed, becoming a mountain of folded papers. It was therapeutic to him, but also he felt like he owe you that, to let you know how his life's going without you, how he still lives - for the sake of your baby.

As the years passed, Sam became a father you’d be proud of. He was there for every scraped knee, every bedtime story, every school play. He wasn’t perfect—he had days when the weight of your absence was too much—but he loved fiercely.

Still, most of the nights, when the world went quiet and the baby-turned-toddler slept peacefully, he’d sit by their bed and mumble quiet “I miss you.” as if you could hear him

And he did.

Every.single.day.

Because no matter how much time passed, the hole you left in his heart never healed. You were his first love, his only love, and even though you were gone, you were everywhere. In the way the sunlight streamed through the windows, in the baby’s laughter, in the quiet moments when he closed his eyes and pretended you were still there.

And though it hurt more than he could ever put into words, he wouldn’t trade a single second of it. Because loving you, even in your absence, was the greatest thing he’d ever done.

And he’d spend the rest of his life making sure your baby—your legacy—knew just how much they were loved by the most extraordinary person SAM MONROE had ever known.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan

(if you want to be on the tag list or don't want to be, don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 99)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (75) / Alexia Putellas x Character (51) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (28)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((5k))

Apologies for the delay. Appreciate you all!

ALEXIA POV

Everything faded around her. She couldn’t see anything but Ridley’s limp body lying several metres away. She didn’t care about a gun. About the security fighting the man into restraint. Into Blau crying out, or Lucy yelling.

There was only her.

She felt herself moving, scrambling over anything and everything to get to her.

Please no. Please. Please!

Her vision blurred with tears.

Please. Anyone but Ridley. I can’t-

Ridley had collapsed face down, the bloodied side of her face hidden against the floor, though the amount of blood was confronting.

“Lee? R…Ridley?” She managed to stutter out as she arrived at her. She patted over her still warm back as if to wake her. Ridley didn’t so much as flinch. The tears were falling in streams now. She slid her hand up her back like she had the night before, her fingers tangling themselves into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. The hair that was getting too long. Alexia knew it’d been annoying her, and was going to insist after the event that she cut it for her.

“Please no..” she sobbed, leaning down to press her lips to her exposed cheek. There were more gunshots. More shouting. Loud, banging noises. She ignored them all. “Lee, please wake up. I need you.” She cried against her soft skin, and then even quieter she made her admission. “I can’t live in a world without you in it.”

“Lucy!” Blau yelled through the haze of grief.

Two strong arms wrapped around Alexia and dragged her back against her will. Away from Ridley. She fought against the arms, shooting her hands and elbows back and hearing a grunt. She protested in a scream as she watched Ridley getting further away from her.

She felt the person holding her hit the wall, but hold on strong. She hadn’t taken her eyes off her, just waiting for the slightest form of movement… anything. Anything at all. And suddenly a figure stepped across to block her view. He crouched down directly in front of her, studying her face with hatred in his eyes. She watched his mouth move and as he spoke an unrecognisable language. His eyes flickered to Blau and back, his finger pointing them both out to the four others.

She had no doubt in her mind who this was.

But, given the circumstances, she couldn’t seem to care.

Instead, she found herself staring through Bashir, trying to see the body of her girlfriend.

RIDLEY POV

Ridley sucked the sweetness from the pineapple while she waited for the English and Spanish games to download. She knew Alexia had been thinking about them, though she’d never complain, and Ridley was excited to see her reaction when she brought it to her.

Alexia’s smile could light up the world.

“He’s smarter than his father.” Duce said, snapping her from her thoughts.

“You don’t think he’ll take the bait?”

“It is very well-hidden bait,” she murmured. “I think it’s 50/50. We don’t know enough about him. From what I do know, there’s a chance he does something else entirely.”

“Like attack us before.” Ridley said, echoing the thoughts of the group.

“That’s an option. Otherwise he’ll watch from afar to see if it’s bait, and get us as we exit.” Fuzzy suggested.

“Or go for Alexia.” Becks murmured quietly. Ridley twitched.

“It’s not unrealistic.” Duce supported. “By now he’s realised that you’re keeping her safe. That means she’s the most important person in your life.”

“Blue-”

“Blue isn’t the one you’ve flown to hide away. In reality, he’ll want Blue and Alexia in the same place. Limit exposure.”

Silence while they thought.

“So,” Wombat said, serious for once, “it’s just a matter of – will he go after Ridley, or after them?”

Ridley landed as the sun was just rising high enough to clear the cliffs. She taxied in, her heart calming at the sight on Alexia and Chiquito waiting for her on the shore, kicking around her football.

She quickly hooked up to the buoy and drove the dinghy across to land. A football flew at her just as she’d dragged it up, and she’d managed a nice touch, kicking it straight back.

Still thinking about her conversation with the team, she walked over, took Alexia by the waist and kissed her as if it were the last time.

JORDAN POV

Jordan gripped tightly onto Leah’s shirt. Even with Leah’s back pressed up against Jordan’s front, her arms extended to physically protect her, she didn’t feel safe. One bullet would tear through them both.

Like it had to Ridley.

She couldn’t look at her body on the floor when it had dropped, because she hadn’t wanted to know. But Alexia’s screams were something straight from a horror film. They sent bone-chilling shivers through her body that she hadn’t been able to stop since.

She tightened her grip on Leah.

Alexia scrambled forwards amongst the chaos and landed somewhere near Ridley.

The two security guards held the man down, attempting to restrain him again.

Jordan looked everywhere but her body.

She looked over at Katie’s body in front of Caitlin’s, not dissimilar to Leah.

The Lumos workers shuddering amongst them.

One girl vomiting at the sight of Ridley.

Blue’s face turning paler than she’d ever thought possible.

The sobs as tears fell down her cheeks.

The anger in Lucy as she ripped the gun from the man’s hands.

The pain in Lucy’s eyes as she looked around, trying to find a way to control any part of the situation, from Blue’s grief, to Alexia’s.

The panic from Blue as more men entered the room, shouting.

The yelling at Lucy to grab Alexia.

The fight in Alexia towards Lucy as she dragged her away from Ridley.

She still didn’t look at her body.

Leah had pressed herself hard against Jordan’s front, in between her legs and she knew nothing would move her from that spot.

Ridley’s body.. it was so much more confronting that the others strewn around them. She could look at them. But not her. Not Blue’s family. Not Alexia’s person. But she couldn’t avoid looking at all of the evidence… the bullet had travelled upwards from the man on the floor, and so she couldn’t miss the chilling sight of Ridley’s blood sprayed onto the roof above them.

Jordan swallowed, but her mouth was dry. She held her grip tightly and turned to see Blue alone next to her, still weeping, her lips parted as her eyes flickered between Ridley, and the armed men coming toward them.

Reaching out, she held her hand.

RIDLEY POV

It was impossible to put into words just how good Alexia’s body felt against her own, their heads leaning together as they swayed. She wanted to stay in this happy bubble together forever, but that sick feeling in her stomach was still there.

Her smell.

Her touch.

Her warmth.

She was the first thing Ridley had ever done right.

Ridley felt someone staring and turned to lock eyes with Becks. He looked from her to Duce and back.

There was an update.

"What is it, little one?" She heard Lucy ask. "Is it your leg?"

Ridley turned to look at Blue up and down, assessing her discomfort.

"It's getting sore." She admitted, though she always understated. Getting sore meant she was in quite a bit of pain she refused to show. She looked around them nervously, and Ridley knew exactly what she was thinking. Of course she did. It was her baby Blue.

Before she could help, Alexia tightened her grip to allow Lucy to get there first. Ridley kissed the Spaniard’s temple in thanks.

"Come here." Lucy cooed. She gently hoisted the smaller woman up onto her and cradled her as if she were the most fragile thing in the world.

"Luce.. your knee." Blue protested, but alas, Lucy was nothing if not stubborn.

She carried her from the dance floor, trying to cover the pain in her own knee as she did so. Blue locked eyes with Ridley over her shoulder and she immediately felt herself moving towards them, only to be stopped by her gesturing otherwise.

Blue gave her that understanding smile of hers and rested her head against Lucy’s as she was carted away.

She didn’t think she’d ever get used to not being the person to take care of her.

Blue studied her face and gave Ridley a wink which she responded to with the best smile she could give her at that point.

She didn’t need a mirror to know how unconvincing it was.

“She’s okay..” Alexia murmured in reassurance.

Ridley hummed, watching them at the table as Lucy gently sat her down, and Jordan went over. “I know..” she murmured softly in response.

“We’re all okay..”

Ridley tensed at those words, because she couldn’t be sure. He could be anywhere. She scanned the room automatically, comfortable being amongst people in a public place, yet uncomfortable at the few random people in the room who were not footballers, and obviously not with anyone.

Alexia’s fingers gently began to massage the stress from her neck.

“Hey, look at me Lee.”

Ridley did so immediately, and happily. She loved to fall into those comforting hazel eyes of hers.

“I’m right here..” she whispered, waiting for Ridley to relax a little.

Only when she relaxed, did Alexia lean forward slowly and kiss her so gently, it could have been a dream.

Alexia was never one for public affection.

This was important.

The Spaniard’s fingers slid up into the hair at the nape of her neck and she shivered.

The feeling that she was slowly growing accustomed to spread throughout her body, to each and every one of her cells. She held Alexia closer as she kissed her, soft lips on soft lips, tongues brushing ever so gently against each other, just to taste.

She was consumed by her.

Ah, fuck. Alexia.

She ran the flat of her hand from her ass, over her hip, waist, breast, collarbone, neck, right up to cup her cheek and stroke her thumb across it.

Just as she reached her cheek, Alexia’s phone rang. Ridley groaned internally but from the entertained look Alexia gave her, it was obvious.

She looked at the phone and tilted her head, answering it.

“Hola, Ona.”

As soon as Alexia was with the group, Ridley left to wander over to the Becks and Duce.

She read through the intelligence, and once done, her eyes flicked up to meet Alexia’s. She was standing with the group, though her body was facing towards Ridley. That longing feeling returned.

“There’s one more piece of information you should know.” Duce said.

“What is it?” She murmured, tearing her eyes away.

“The ace up our sleeve.” Duce replied. A face flashed onto the screen and Ridley memorised it.

“This is Reynold. He’s one of ours.”

She tilted her head, looking at the codeword next to his photo. “Who chose the Beetlejuice reference?”

YFN POV

The word grief felt like an understatement. It was far, far worse than that.

She felt sick.

Empty.

Alone.

She felt like she could feel her own heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

All at once.

She struggled to breath, instead gasping as her body shook. The only thing to distract her was to protect the rest of them.

She watched Lucy grab the gun, and flinched as she did so. Had she even handled one before?

She watched Alexia scrambling towards Ridley’s body and the blood seeping from her head.

She watched her try to wake her, to get her to move. Anything at all.

Another group of men entered the room, armed, and she yelled towards Lucy.

“Lucy!”

Lucy looked to her, to the men, and then to Alexia and understood. She shoved the gun into her hoody and hurried towards the grieving Spaniard. Knowing she’d be trouble, she bear hugged her arms around her body and dragged her backwards.

YFN watched as Alexia fought, swinging and protesting, even managing to connect her elbow and nails into her at points. But Lucy was always so noble and determined.

She dragged Alexia back next to YFN and eventually her protestations dulled into lifelessness as she stared towards her unmoving body.

Even with the men yelling at them in another language, she stared straight at her.

YFN felt Jordan take her hand and she squeezed it, not knowing how good it would feel to have that.

YFN looked to Lucy and wanted to cry even more at the expression on her face. She couldn’t protect anyone. She couldn’t control anything.

She saw a little cut on her cheek from where Alexia had managed to scratch her, and wished she could reach over and wipe the blood away.

But they dare not move. Not with these men in front of them.

She blinked the never-ending tears away to try and see them better. The main figure crouched down spoke, his eyes flickering to Alexia and YFN, pointing to them both.

But he wasn’t smiling.

His eyes were dead, and his face was neutral.

This was revenge. This was Bashir.

Gunshots rang throughout the building which built some sort of hope, but he ignored them which sunk her heart. They must have been his men.

He stood and walked over to Ridley. Using his foot, he rocked her body and it did so, limply. YFN felt sick but knew better than to say anything. She looked to Lucy whose hand had come over to cover Alexia’s mouths from any protests she may have.

Bashir stood back, watching to see if she would move.

Nothing.

He struck her in the ribs, hard with his foot.

The sound of flesh on flesh and ribs breaking was disgusting.

Alexia began to fight against Lucy again and the Englishwoman whispered in her ear. “Please don’t.”

Lucy was begging. For all of them.

Alexia ignored her and managed to free her mouth and yell towards Bashir. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” She yelled in English. “You want someone to hurt? I am here!”

YFN flinched.

He stared at her, his expression remaining neutral. Did he understand English?

Surprisingly, he ignored her and gestured to the security guards and then the door. Two of his men stood and dragged the pleading security guards to the door.

As if he had known, banging sounded on the door as people tried to get through. But his men had barred it shut.

One of Bashir’s men shouted in English. “We have hostages. Do not enter or we will kill them.”

The banging stopped.

“We need confirmation of life.” Beckett’s voice.

One of the men hit his gun against the head of one of the security guards.

“Y…yes…I…. I’m alive. My n..name is Greg. I.. I work h… ere.”

“Greg, how many people are in the room?”

Greg didn’t answer. The man with the gun nudged him again.

“Uh..” He looked around the room. “D…dead or alive?”

The gun hit again.

Silence behind the door. And then: “Both.”

“Nineteen alive… eight dead.”

“How many hostages?”

“Uh..”

“We have hostages. That is all you need to know.”

The taller man, the one who’d shot Ridley stood now, grinning towards Bashir.

“I did it. I got her for you.”

Without blinking, Bashir lifted his hand and shot him in the chest, watching as fell backwards, hitting the leg of a table and gasping for breath. YFN closed her eyes as his body fell.

“She was mine.”

The man with the gun hit it against the security guard’s head again.

“E…eighteen alive.. nine dead.”

She looked at the man who’d shot Ridley as he sat leant against the table, gasping for breath. If there were an ambulance nearby, he’d surely live. And yet – she knew Bashir wanted him to suffer.

There was silence again for a period.

“I believe you have one of ours?” Beckett asked.

YFN looked to Ridley who still hadn’t moved. Bashir kicked the gun away from where she’d dropped it and shook his head towards his man by the door. When the security guard went to respond, he hit him hard in the temple and responded in his place.

“We have one of yours.”

“I’d like to speak to her.”

Bashir fired his gun towards the door, but not at it. “You will clear us a path to the roof, or we will kill the hostages one by one. You have 10 minutes.”

He looked back at Ridley, his jaw twitching, and then he turned to the group of terrified people huddled against the wall.

“She killed my father, and my men.” He said, with a strong accent. “So I will kills hers.”

He pointed Alexia out to his other two men. “I want her partner first.”

There was no way YFN would ever let the person Ridley loved to be hurt under any circumstance. She went to move and was distracted by something in the corner of her eye.

Did Ridley just move?

RIDLEY POV

Her head felt swollen. Sore. Pounding. Like a nail to the brain.

Shouting penetrated the ringing in the ears, though she couldn’t hear what it was.

Screaming.

Ridley knew better than to move. She’d been in similar situations. She knew why what had happened, happened. She would have been killed straight away if Bashir and his men had entered with just her there. They’d needed the element of surprise.

She made herself limp, trying to ignore the pain in her head.

She felt hands touching her. Tangling into the hair at the nape of her neck.

Alexia.

It was harder to suppress a shiver than it was to suppress the blinding pain.

“Please no..” she heard Alexia sob, followed by the feeling of her lips on her cheek.

More gunshots.

More shouting.

Loud, banging noises.

“Lee, please wake up. I need you.” She cried, breaking whatever heart Ridley had. “I can’t live in a world without you in it.”

Someone shouted. Blue?

The hands disappeared.

More yelling, though in Somali. She heard the heavy footsteps of men entering the room and counted them.

There were 5.

More talking, quieter now. It was Bashir’s voice.

Gunshots rang throughout the building. Her team was here.

The feel of a foot rocking her body. She remained limp.

A foot connected suddenly, and violently with her ribs. She felt the break, felt the blood pooling in the area and yet still, remained limp.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” She heard Alexia yell in her broken English. “You want someone to hurt? I am here!”

Ridley tried to not react.

Silence.

Movement.

Two security guards protesting as they were dragged.

Banging on the door.

An exchange of words. She recognised Beck’s voice.

Becks wanted to know if she was alive, and she knew that. But there was no way for her to signal him. Instead, it was done for her.

More movement, followed by the sound of Reynold’s voice, loud enough for Becks to hear. “I did it. I got her for you.”

A pause. A gunshot.

She heard the bullet hit, and from the gasping sounds as he fell backwards, it was in his chest.

From the lack of a second bullet, she knew that Bashir couldn’t tell the difference between a bullet hitting flesh vs hitting a vest.

“She was mine.” Bashir hissed.

“E…eighteen alive.. nine dead.”

“I believe you have one of ours?” Becks asked.

The sound of her gun being kicked further away from her. Fuck.

“We have one of yours.”

“I’d like to speak to her.”

Gunshots towards the door. “You will clear us a path to the roof, or we will kill the hostages one by one. You have 10 minutes.”

Silence. And then the sound of movement behind the door.

“She killed my father, and my men.” He said, with a strong accent. “So I will kills hers.” A pause. “I want her partner first.”

Ridley’s breath hitched and she tried to suppress it. Obviously it was noticeable as Reynold created another distraction.

“Hostile times 2, two metres, 4 o’clock.” Reynold began telling her aloud. It was such a random thing, that Bashir paused to try and understand. “Bravo is mine. Split the last two.”

She heard Bashir raise his gun again. Reynold spoke again and she could hear the grin in his voice. “Look over here, boys… it's showtime!"

At the sound of the codeword, Ridley’s eyes opened just as she spun on the ground, kicking the legs of the two men out from under them. She grabbed the gun from one and shot the two standing by the door before it was knocked from her hand as a man grabbed her arm.

It was almost impossible to see with the blood running down one half of her face, and she was barely able to open her left eye, but the pain didn’t matter at that moment.

Next to her, she could see Reynold struggling against Bashir for the gun in his hand. Worried it would go off towards the group, she pulled herself against the man and kicked at their hands, the gun flying away to safety.

She managed to lock eyes with Alexia for only a split second, wide-eyed and shoving herself away from Lucy’s bear hug. An arm came around her neck and pulled her backwards, falling onto the man. The other raised a knife to get her while she was vulnerable, and Alexia slammed into him using her body, just as Ridley had taught her.

She shot a high elbow backwards and felt the man’s orbital socket give way. Spinning, she grabbed the knife from his own belt and plunged it into his chest.

Without waiting, she looked to see the other man sprawled on the floor, reaching for the knife he’d dropped when Alexia had knocked him over. Prioritising, she slammed her foot down onto his leg and as he screamed, she grabbed Alexia around the waist and picked her up, suppressing a groan for her broken ribs as she set her down where she was before. Alexia looked up, her mouth opening to protest but Ridley got there first.

“Stay, la Reina.”

She didn’t even want to know what she looked like with the blood dripping down her face.

She turned to see what remained of the two men. One was on the floor, a knife in his chest and the blood dripping from his mouth a good indicator that he was deceased. The other was now charging towards her with a knife. She managed to dodge and grab his arm, twisting it behind his back as she dropped him to the floor. She held her weight down on his body and her arm came around his neck, squeezing tightly. Face on the ground, he struggled against her to no avail.

Suddenly a sharp pain hit her outer thigh and she groaned, looking down at the knife. Rolling her eyes and swearing under her breath, she ripped it out and saw the blood begin to flow. She rocked the man under her sidewards just enough to slide the knife under before pressing his body down on top of it.

He gasped and shuddered, unable to escape until he went limp entirely.

She sat up just as one of the doors on the opposite side of the room burst down, more of Bashir’s men running towards. She watched as she approached with guns raised, yet before they reached them, her team entered and shot them down.

Her team breathed a sigh of relief when they saw her, their eyes widening at the bodies strewn around. She looked to Reynold who was standing opposite Bashir, though she was uneasy that he was so close to the group. To Blue. To Alexia. Ridley stood.

He looked at the bodies of his men around the room, then to Ridley. She didn’t need to wonder what his next move would be.

Bashir began to turn his body towards Alexia and Ridley snapped.

“Take one step towards her and I’ll break your fucking neck.”

He paused his movement, thinking.

She felt dizzy from the blood loss. She was weak. Tired. Bruised. Beaten.

Bashir also knew this. He turned back towards her. “I challenge you. You and me. I die, or you die.”

“Dumbest decision of the year.” Wombat muttered.

Her body was weak, but not enough for that. She had to think it over.

“Ridley..” Becks murmured. She turned her head, though her eyes were still on Bashir. “It’s your choice.”

He would never stop coming for her. For her loved ones. But she couldn’t agree with the unnecessary killing. The fact that she’d shed blood in front of them all. Killed in front of them. In front of Alexia. And Blue.

She gestured for her team to lower their weapons.

She took one step forward, locking onto those angry eyes of Bashir’s and murmured lowly. “You will not coerce me into an ultimatum. You want to die? That’s your choice. We are done.”

Just as she went to turn away from him, he did exactly what she’d expected and swung his knife.

“Ridley!” Alexia yelled.

Ridley ducked under his arm, snatching the knife from his hand and plunging it exactly where she was aiming. It hit with a loud thud.

A gasp of breath left his body and he stumbled backwards into one of the chairs at the table.

She crouched before him, gesturing to the knife. “I leave you with your choice. That knife is currently severing and blocking your aorta. You can live. Or you can die. But the choice is all yours.”

Before he could respond, she walked away.

ALEXIA POV

She’d been watching her from across the room since it had happened.

The authorities had arrived. People she knew held high offices. Politicians, military and such. The bodies were removed, starting with Bashir’s.

Many, many statements were taken. Photos. Injuries. Camera footage. Apologies. Explanations. A specialised team talking to the group about how to address the event in the media.

Blau managed to gain some powerful friends with what happened. And she even admitted that what happened would give Lumos a lot of publicity, though that’s not where her head was at. Most of her was trying to come to terms with everything they’d just seen.

They all were.

“It is not something anybody should ever have to see..” they were told repeatedly during the apologies.

They were offered all of the psychological help available, and she was pretty certain that it was more than just requested.

But amongst the chaos, Alexia couldn’t keep her eyes from her.

She was alive.

Ridley had been over the far side of the room in an intense debrief while her injuries were treated. Her ribs were broken. Her thigh was stitched and bandaged. Her head was also treated, stitched and bandaged until she could get proper care for it. As her shirt was removed, the military medics did seem a little startled by the amount of scars riddling her body. She lifted her arm tenderly, her torso on full display and still very much sun-kissed from their time on the island, while they bandaged her bruised ribs.

She wanted to give her space, but she also knew she needed it too. What happened had been… confronting. And not just the violence. But the feeling of having lost her. She wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to survive that if it had been true.

Alexia needed space to think, but she also just wanted to be close to her. To reassure her. The few times they locked eyes, she could see the shame there. The knowledge of having done such horrible things in front of her. Blau. Lucy. Everyone.

But Alexia had already understood the world she lived in. And if anything, it just made her feel even safer to see that side of her.

But amongst all of her feelings, Alexia was worried more than anything. Worried that Ridley would feel so ashamed that she’d push her away. She was terrified of that. Because after what had happened, it was clear that she couldn’t live without her.

When most of the people around her had disappeared, Alexia approached her warily, hearing her conversation as she approached.

“I am sorry again. I needed to help you before he arrived, and it was the quickest option… I’ll work on my aim a little better, huh?” Reynold chuckled, tapping her forehead.

She smiled and joked. “Very quick thinking, my friend. You saved my life by shooting me in the head.”

“Ohhh well.” He grinned as he gave an exaggerated shrug. “Looks like you owe me one.”

Ridley took his extended hand. “Thank you for your service.”

“The honour is mine. I’ll see you around, Commander.”

He turned to give Alexia a polite nod as he left, walking away from the pair.

Ridley and Alexia stood opposite each other just… looking. Not talking. She looked at the bandage on her head, the bruise on her jaw, the fatigue in those dark eyes of hers.

“Please don’t leave me...” Alexia whispered, catching her sob.

Ridley’s eyebrows came together in confusion. Her lips parted, and then closed. Her face relaxed.

“There are so many thing I have to say… so many apologies and regrets. So much shame.” She said with a voice that broke.

Slowly, and tenderly, she fell to her knees in front of Alexia. “But beyond all that - I love you, Alexia. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours… if you’ll have me.”

She leant forwards, pressing her forehead to her abdomen, putting herself entirely at the mercy of the Spaniard.

And that’s the exact moment Alexia knew that Ridley was hers.

[ponyosmom35]

live

simon ghost riley x reader

synopsis: reader is still struggling with simon's death and their stolen future.

warnings: angst

Link to master list:https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She trudged into the house, kicking the door shut behind her as she shrugged off her coat. The weight of the day clung to her, heavier than the chill outside. She avoided looking at the photo by the door, the one she still hadn't moved. His grin in that picture felt almost mocking now, a reminder of what she'd lost. Four months gone, and she still couldn't reconcile the idea that he was never coming back.

The deck called to her, though she wasn't sure why. She grabbed a blanket and stepped outside, the biting cold stinging her face. He had built the deck the summer before last, insisting it would be "their spot" for early mornings and lazy evenings. She traced her fingers over the worn wood, his handiwork still solid beneath her touch.

Her gaze drifted to the yard, barren and lifeless under the season's grip. The once-bright flowers he'd helped her plant were shriveled, reduced to blackened stems poking from frozen earth. She didn't realize she was crying until her cheeks burned from the mix of tears and cold. The flowers felt like a cruel metaphor, as if they were fading along with him, leaving her with nothing but memories and silence.

She sobbed until she had no tears left, her chest heaving as she pressed her hands to her face. The sharp vibration of her phone startled her, and she fumbled for it, wiping her cheeks hastily as she saw his name on the screen.

"Hello?" she answered, forcing her voice to steady.

A thick Scottish brogue came through the line, a lifeline of familiarity. "I'm shocked you answered me, lass. Finally figured out how to pick up the phone, have you?"

She let out a weak chuckle, hoping it masked the shakiness in her voice. "Sorry, I've just been… busy."

He didn't buy it for a second. "Aye, busy burying yourself in work, I reckon. It's fine, lass, no need to apologize. I was just worried about you."

She sighed, staring at the lifeless yard. "I'm fine, really."

"Don't lie to me," he said softly, his tone gentle but firm. "I know you better than that."

Her resolve crumbled. "It's just… hard. I feel like I'm barely keeping afloat. Some days I think I'm okay, but then… something small reminds me of him, and it feels like I'm drowning all over again."

There was a pause, and she could hear him take a deep breath. "You've got to give yourself a break. He wouldn't want you to live like this."

"I don't know how to do anything else," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I just… I miss him so much."

"I know you do," he said gently. "But you need to step away, even just for a bit. Go somewhere you've always wanted to. Clear your head. It doesn't fix everything, but it might help."

She hesitated. The thought of leaving, of facing the world without him, felt daunting. "I don't know…"

He pressed on. "Do it for him, then. You know he'd want you to live. Not just survive—live."

She closed her eyes, her heart aching. "I've always wanted to see his hometown. He used to talk about it all the time. He promised to give me a tour."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Then go, lass. See the places he loved. I'll even meet you there for a day, show you around. You don't have to do it alone."

"Really?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.

"Aye. Just give me the dates, and I'll take care of the rest."

She started to protest. "I can't let you—"

He cut her off. "No arguments. He would've wanted you to have this. Let me do this for you."

She hesitated, but the warmth in his voice soothed the jagged edges of her grief. "Okay. I'll start looking at flights and hotels."

"Hotels? No, lass. Just send me the dates. I'll handle it all."

She smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. "Alright, thank you."

"Anything for you," he said quietly. "And for him."

As the call ended, she sat in the silence again, staring out at the dead flowers. For the first time, she let herself imagine something beyond the winter—a trip, a chance to see his world, and maybe, just maybe, a glimpse of herself coming back to life.

--

She lay in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around her, but the chill in her chest remained. She stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting despite her exhaustion. The room felt emptier than usual, the space beside her unbearably vast. She closed her eyes, desperate for sleep, and let her thoughts wander back to the last winter they spent together.

He was in the bathroom, the light spilling out into the bedroom. She watched him, leaning against the doorway, toothbrush in hand, clad only in his briefs. His tall, muscular frame was a sight to behold, his tattoos stark against his skin. The ink told stories she hadn't heard all at once—some pieces he'd shared, others he said he'd tell her someday. Now, she'd never know them all.

He caught her watching and raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "You staring at me again, love?"

"Maybe," she teased, propping her chin on her hand. "You're not exactly hard to look at."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned off the bathroom light and made his way to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he slid in beside her. Before she could curl up, he reached out, pulling her against his side.

"Bloody hell, your feet are freezing!" he grumbled as her toes brushed his leg.

She giggled, her mischievous grin hidden in the dark. "You're my heater. It's your job."

"Is it now?" he muttered, feigning irritation. She pressed her icy toes between his thighs, and he gasped, jolting. "Get your icicles off me, woman!"

She burst into laughter, clutching at his chest as he groaned dramatically. Still, he didn't let her go. Instead, he pulled her tighter, wrapping his arms around her.

"You're impossible," he said, his voice muffled against her hair. "Should I turn the heat up?"

"No," she replied, nestling closer. "I've got you."

He sighed, his breath warm against her temple. "Right, then. But I swear, for Christmas, all you're getting is socks."

She laughed again, the sound light and full, and his lips brushed the top of her head in a soft kiss. "Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow."

She drifted off that night, her smile lingering as his steady heartbeat lulled her into peaceful dreams.

Now, in the silence of her bedroom, her eyes fluttered open. The memory felt vivid and real, as if he had been there just moments ago. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the empty space where he should have been. A sharp pang of loss struck her chest, but it was quickly replaced by something softer, warmer. For the first time since he'd died, she realized, she'd recalled one of their moments without crying.

She smiled faintly, her fingers resting on her heart. "Thank you," she whispered into the quiet, as if he might somehow hear. Then, closing her eyes, she let herself fall into a dreamless sleep, her heart a little less heavy than before.

[vanishingstarrs]

loss of my life ( k. bakugo x reader, anxiety, depression, mourning, stages of grief, character death mentioned, some self deprecation OR your boyfriend laments the loss of his life and struggles through the reality of being the one left alive ) ( and what if i was feeling sad ) ( i’m actually so sorry omg xx ) ( play loml by taylor swift if u want this to hit extra hard </3 )

The sky was crying.

Katsuki Bakugo disliked nothing more than the rain, the whole concept of it made him feel extremely weak— useless. Not only did the heavy downpour make it harder for him to produce sweat and therefore harder to use his quirk, but being drenched made everything much slower and heavier, so cold and lifeless. He never understood what you liked about it so much.

Not until he was sitting on a bench, tears and rainwater blurring his vision, the two liquids blending together and making it hard to distinguish whether he was crying. He tilted his head back, letting the water pelt against his skin as he finally released his breath.

For a moment… it almost felt like the clouds were doing all the hard work for him, he didn’t even have to cry. A sudden crackle of thunder snapped against the sky, screaming so he didn’t have to, angry for him over life’s injustice.

He didn’t understand it. And then he did.

He could understand why you’d sit at the window for hours, staring out at the rain with a serene look in your eyes, your whole body at ease.

The text cursor blinked up at him mockingly as he remained frozen, looking at his phone, your contact pulled up. It was still favorited on his phone. He hit call after a few seconds, letting the other phone in his hands (one he paid for solely so he could keep doing this) go on and on, the special ringtone you’d picked out specifically so you’d know it was him calling played out. Over the speaker he heard it… your voice.

“Hey! It’s Y/N, I’m off saving the world right now so leave it at the beep and I’ll call back… or not ‘cause I hate phone calls… unless you’re my boyfriend… I’ll text ya! Okay bu— beeeeep.”

The recording cut off before you could fully say bye in that signature cute way that was simply so you, it was more of a buh-bye, with you dragging out the final vowel. If anyone else had said it that way he would’ve found it annoying, told them to speak normal. With you… well, he thought anything that you did endearing.

He wished he’d been strong enough to save you.

His finger twitched, and before he knew it his whole hand was shaking. He stared helplessly at it while his heart went haywire inside his chest.

Dying… he was definitely dying. He was dying and he would get to see you again—

“Kacchan?”

It was overwhelming. The tightening in his chest, the sense of nostalgia washing over him, the longing he felt for someone whose blood had run cold months ago.

A familiar voice broke him out of his reverie, Katsuki looked up to meet green eyes.

How he wished they were yours… he’d often get lost in the world behind your eyes, picturing where life would lead the both of you, together.

“What are you doing out here? You hate the rain.”

He was crying.

It was obvious to his childhood friend, even with the rain trying to disguise it. Izuku Midoriya knew him like the back of his hand, and he knew how much he was hurting with your loss.

“I know you don’t feel like celebrating right now, why don’t we go back inside?” Deku continued,“I’ll walk you to your room.”

He’d rather be in yours… a room now empty, it used to be filled with all your things— books, knickknacks, posters on the walls, photos you’d force him to take that he secretly loved being in because it meant you felt he was worth remembering for years to come… he used to love spending time in your dorm if not only for your scent, being enveloped in it made him feel warmer than he’d ever known before…

“She’s gone.” He finally spoke.

You really were gone. You weren’t coming back. You wouldn’t appear once more someday, jumping up from behind him to yell “sike” and laugh off just how good you’d gotten him. You’d never hold his arm again, or force your freezing cold hands under his shirt. Never text him from across the classroom how much you missed him despite having spent the whole morning in his room, getting ready and taking over his whole bed with your makeup. You wouldn’t whine about making the wrong shoe choice for the day and wait for him to begrudgingly let you jump on his back for him to carry you back to the dorms. He’d never hear your annoying laugh again, or stare at the little mole you had under your left eye. The days of flushing in embarrassment when you forced a bit of pda on him in the hallway before class were gone, and so were your secret moments behind closed doors. There was no more holding back, he was crying again.

He wouldn’t see you again.

Izuku gulped, frowning deeply,“I’m so sorry, Kacchan…”

He looked up, eyes somber.

You were the loss of Katsuki Bakugo’s life.

[elegantauthor]

Saving Grace Chapter 21

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: The hour grows late, and Bucky tries not to spiral.

Warnings: mentions of memory loss and being brainwashed

Series Masterlist

Bucky’s memories were like shards of a mirror; he would try to put them in their proper place, only for them to jut out in all the wrong directions. There was always another memory, or no memory at all—an empty fragment in the void of his brain. How could he ever be whole again without all the pieces?

He grappled with memory loss every day, ever since Wakanda. Shuri removed the code words, but they couldn’t give him back the seventy plus years under HYDRA control. No one could. Aurora’s attempts to revive the man he once was were well-meaning, but she was a bit too idealistic at times.

He couldn’t blame her; she was a young woman, prone to flights of fancy. Hell, when he was her age, he dreamt of being a scientist. World War II started, and he enlisted in the Army. The life he’d dreamt of shredded, along with his memory, every time he was put in the chair and his mind wiped. Every murder was a blemish on his soul. He was a broken man, tattered and tainted.

How could anyone love him? He was not the youthful man he’d been in the Forties. He was not the soldier off to fight someone else’s war in another country. He also wasn’t what HYDRA made him. At the same time, he was an amalgamation of it all.

He oft wondered if he could remember, would he want to? Would the happier times trigger more grief? These were the questions that kept him up at night. The ruminations of a wanderer in a cavernous expanse of darkness staring back at him when he closed his eyes.

Now, as the hours ticked by and every second counted, that expanse increased tenfold. Nagged at his conscience until he willingly opened the floodgate. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. Because, as demons do, the temptation to leave Aurora with Baron Helmut Zemo had crossed the barren wasteland of his mind at least once during the near forty hours he’d spent searching for her.

Zemo, with all his finery, would make for a suitable partner. He could give her everything her heart desired; a private jet, lavish homes across Europe. She was a Stark. A demigoddess. What in God’s good name was she doing with a man like him?

~ * ~

Six years ago

“Goddammit, Aurora!”

The woman before him jolted, and immediately, he saw the tension in her shoulders. He didn’t have it in him to feel remorse. He stared at her with a hardened expression, working his jaw as he premediated a response to yet another of her sassy remarks.

When no such retort came, Bucky dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “I’m not— I’m not the man you want me to be. I’m sorry I can’t be him.”

Instead of extinguishing her fire, which he partly expected, Aurora smiled softly up at him. “Bucky, I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself. I know I can come off as willful and naïve…”

“You don’t say?” A small smirk tugged the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, I’m an idealist, but you have to understand… My dad is a genius, the innovator of our time. Kind of impossible not to absorb some of that idealism. But,” she stated with emphasis, “I’m not trying to push my beliefs on you. Do I think it’s cool that you’re from the Forties? Yes, I do. The best of both worlds. Innovation with good, old-fashioned values.”

“You certainly have a knack for blending opposing philosophies. Get that from your ma?”

Aurora laughed. “Maybe… I mean, she’s been around for eons.”

Suddenly, realization dawned on him, and his eyes softened. “I think I understand. You see a little of you in me, don’t you?”

Humming, she walked around the hut. Bucky knew her well enough to know when she did that, she was thinking. Tony did that, too, Steve informed him. “You’re a man plucked out of time, I’m a woman who will see just as many decades or more pass before my own time ends. I think too much about the concepts of infinity, eternity, forever, but I can’t quantify them, and that scares me.”

“Ah, so I’m a science experiment,” he said, grinning.

Matching his grin, Aurora shook her head. “You’re impossible. I’m impossible. Steve is impossible. Yet, here we are. Beings of myth and legend.”

“Legacy…”

“Yes,” she snapped her fingers and pointed, “legacy. The demigoddess and the Winter Soldier.”

“Sounds like a bad porno.”

“Bucky!” she giggled.

He crossed the room in two strides, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I don’t wanna lose you… I don’t wanna keep pushing you away… Can you accept that I may never recover from some things? Can you accept me for who I am?”

“Of course,” Aurora murmured in earnest. “I’m sorry for overstepping. I never meant to hurt you.”

He shuddered a breath, nodding. “I wanna see what you see in me…”

He closed his eyes, as she cupped her palm around his face. “I know I get carried away with potentiality, the future, but… I see you, Bucky. I love you. Just the way you are.”

Opening his eyes again, he stared down deeply into hers and getting lost in the golden pools of light. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”

“Who?”

“Your grandfather. He was a man ahead of his time. The night before my unit shipped out, I was at Stark Expo.”

“I suppose some things truly are meant to be.”

Bucky nodded, the lyrics of Elvis’ song cementing the moment.

[lilac-rose-writes]

"I can't do this anymore"

(or- nugget, penny & lily parallels because i couldn't help myself)

nugget & penny both reach a breaking point, and it's only then that they rebel against the principals. nugget was intended to be an experiment; billy was an accidental substitute. penny wasn't meant to be an experiment; she still acted as a useful tool. both nugget & penny know more than they should about what the principals are up to. billy confided in nugget about what he knew, penny's been exposed to it firsthand. the principals control them via drugs and remotes, and both of them are despondent because of it.

and then there's lily. lily refuses to take the pills, refuses to give in to the principals, and she ends up in the reverse situation. her brother's gone, she's bullied relentlessly, and she's losing the will to live more by the day. when cindy pushes lily to her breaking point, lily does the opposite of rebelling. lily gives up.

penny tries to die and fails, so decides to help with the rescue instead despite the threat it puts on her life. the female principal kills her for it. the moment penny fights back, she's given what she wanted- in a death she couldn't achieve alone.

nugget can no longer remember what billy said to him, but he wants to help nonetheless. he gives up the note even though it's one of the only memories of billy he still has left. nugget can read. how many times do you think he's gone through it, deciphering the handwriting and committing each word to memory?

lily can't read. lily's trying to find billy. lily's the reason there's a statue watching everyone in the playground. lily's putting herself in danger. nugget's scared of the principal, scared of speaking against him, scared of putting both lily and himself in danger when he's almost entirely convinced that billy's already dead. nugget makes a memorial. no-one but billy had seen inside of his cave before. in giving kid the note, he gets what he wanted too- billy back in his life.

lily gives up. lily doesn't fight. in that loop, lily dies. in a way, that's what she wanted too.

there's also a difference in how they give in. nugget trips over his words, tearful and scared. nobody's allowed to talk about billy, not without the devices in their pockets blowing up. he's overcome with grief and trying to reminisce about a friend he's been forced to forget hurts more than he can put into words. nugget's is a confession. nugget's is a cry for help.

penny cries out. penny's in anguish, penny's brain and will and body are all rebelling against each other. people aren't meant to be robots. penny knows she wasn't meant to survive. she's desperate, she's shouting because no-one will listen. penny's is a warning that she won't stay. penny's is rebellion, because she can't find it in herself to obey anymore even as a plastic smile stays plastered on her face.

lily's apathetic. every word is monosyllabic until she reaches the end of her sentence. "mean" is juveline, "mean" is simplistic. lily's a child. she focuses on cindy's bullying so she doesn't have to think about everything else she's lost, everything else on her mind. lily's miserable. lily's detached. lily speaks softly. lily goes without a fight.

…, !!!, . nugget gives detail, struggling to express just how affected he's been by billy's disappearance. penny's words are short and capitalised, as loud as ted's agonised screams when he's pushed into the hole. lily offers two short sentences: a surrender.

[orcelito]

I'm tired of the mood swings man like wtf is my problem

[rogloptimist]

LAKE MISSOULA x JONAS VINGEGAARD

credits under cut!

lake missoula - richy mitch and the coal miners // jonas vingegaard - team presentation, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard, tadej pogacar, and remco evenepoel - podium ceremony, tour de france 2024 (belga images) // tadej pogacar and jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // wayward son - rainbow rowell // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 // it's down to legs - caley fretz // jonas vingegaard - stage 20, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // a poem on hope - wendell berry // jonas vingegaard and remco evenepoel - stage 19, tour de france 2024 // quora user shulamit widawsky // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 (getty images) // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 post-race interview (flobikes) // 'now the fight is over': jonas vingegaard concedes tour de france battle for yellow, but still aims for second - adam becket // jonas vingegaard - stage 19, tour de france 2024 post-race interview (flobikes) // video: jonas vingegaard and matteo jorgenson consoled after heart-breaking end to stage 19 of 2024 tour de france for team visma | lease a bike - kieran wood // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // 'probably the hardest moment of my career'-- jonas vingegaard on his crash and fight to be ready for the tour de france - stephen farrand // jonas vingegaard's tour de france was a venn diagram - iain treloar // rise up and salute the sun: the writings of suzy kassem - suzy kassem // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2023 // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // vingegaard exhausted after tour de france: may cut season short - sjoerd valkering // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - stage 20, tour de france 2024 (belga images) // the thing is - ellen bass // "if you had told me four months ago that i would be second, i wouldn't have believed you" - jonas vingegaard disappointed but proud of his tour de france - ondrej zhasil // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - stage 11, tour de france 2024 post-race interview (nbc sports) // alfred lord tennyson // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // remco evenepoel and jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - tour de france 2024 // matteo jorgenson and jonas vingegaard - stage 19, tour de france 2024 // matteo jorgenson and jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - podium ceremony, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard and wout van aert - tour de france 2024 (team visma | lease a bike)

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I know that people are rarely their best selves at a funeral, but do you ever just watch your family move through the process of mourning the Patriarch and have a sudden and violent and vivid understanding of Why Everyone Is The Way They Are

[madamescarlette]

.

[avspol]

it was absolutely foul of araki to name polnareff's sister sherry (phonetically very similar to cherry) and then decide that kakyoin would be associated with cherries and that he would be like a brother to polnareff and that he would also die . why would you do that

[stuckinapril]

.

[andtheuniversesaidyouareloved]

Not gonna lie, this very public friendship breakdown is giving me flashbacks of how the friend group I was in in college dissolved. This really speaks of people who never experienced these things younger suddenly going through all the levels of high school pettiness at once. Yes, some of these guys made massive screw ups or betrayed each other (according to certain people). Yes, things should have ended earlier. Yes, there is a power dynamic at play in a lot of this we weren’t aware of. And frankly… WE DID NOT NEED TO KNOW.

This should have been done in a group setting, closed doors, and then people coming away deciding quietly not to work together anymore. I’m disappointed in pretty all of them at this point, but that’s par for the course for a lot of these younger Minecraft creators. (The only reason I see the younger hermits being okay is they have proper mentors, not each other to bounce off of). I wouldn’t be surprised if the Brighton group goes through something similar in a few years.

I really miss the days of Jack, Mark, and Pewds. Where if someone stopped working with someone else for personal reasons, it was treated as if it was a business relationship dissolving. Nothing more. Things were handled privately, without the fans needing to be involved.

I really hope Bad and Sam are doing okay. I hope Sapnap is doing okay. I could see Punz splitting from the entire group with Hannah and Sylvee. Bad has known these guys since they were young teens. Sam I’m not sure. I know him and Punz are much closer (unless, horrifically, Sam is Friend B). But I hope everyone is doing okay regardless.

I give it a good year before things smooth over. Before people realize the way they acted was inappropriate and maybe apologize for what they did and how they handled things.

For now, guys, take care of yourselves. Go watch some other people (the Hermits are great and so is InTheLittleWood and the Empires gang), don’t feel guilt about enjoying these creators (you didn’t know, no one did publicly), and don’t be ashamed of still wanting to enjoy the DSMP. The characters are based on how the creators acted on the server, not in real life. They belong to the fandom as a whole. Go enjoy some fanart and fanfics.

—You are loved