#laying the foundations of regret

[jontheketeld]

"Thank you for the glizzy"

Oh my god. look up that phrase right now.

[loredrinker]

The Eternal Bond of Solas and Lavellan 

My sister challenged me to explore the depth of Solas’s love for Lavellan in Veilguard—a love I believe endures, no matter his choices or the challenges they face. It’s a perspective I’ve seen debated often, with some arguing that if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have left, or that her love alone should have been enough to change his path.

While many have already explored this topic, truthfully, it’s something I’ve thought about since finishing Veilguard and therefore, couldn’t pass up the challenge. This post is obviously through the romanced Lavellan lens.  

For context, my sister is a staunch Blackwall fan. She wasn’t exactly Solas’s biggest fan during her first Inquisition playthrough, but during subsequent runs, she softened. Eventually, my adoration for Solas won her over and she even played a run through where she romanced him, and found it bitter sweet (and then ran back to Blackwall). 

But before we dive in, there are a couple of things that I take into consideration in this breakdown: 

Solas’s decisions are shaped by millennia of experience and centuries of guilt and regret. He’s not just a guy making impulsive choices��he’s a being who’s lived through unimaginable pain and carried the weight of a broken world for ages. 

Solas is immortal. It’s easy for us, as mortals, to judge his actions through our limited, human perspective. But how can we truly understand the mind of someone who’s lived for thousands of years, seeing empires rise and fall, burdened with trauma, guilt, self-loathing, and the scars of war? 

That said, this mortal is going to give it a shot. Let’s go. A long post under the cut. 

Inquisition – the Foundation 

The seeds of Lavellan’s significance in Solas’s journey—and the path that could one day lead to his redemption—are planted during Inquisition. Lavellan challenges his detachment, offering him something he’s avoided for so long: a glimpse of the world as it is, rather than as it was. Through her, he begins to see beauty in what remains and starts to imagine a life connected to something other than regret and isolation. Her influence is foundational. 

Solas’s love for Lavellan, and the transformation she inspires in him, doesn’t end with his departure. She lingers in his heart, shaping the internal conflict that is still to come.  

Trespasser 

The conversation between Solas and a romanced Lavellan in Trespasser is one of my favorite moments in the series. The different dialogue choices are filled with so much emotion and after two years apart, he still calls her vhenan and “my love.” 

Lavellan’s faith that their love will endure meets Solas’s sorrowful wish that it could. The weight of their connection is undeniable. Unable to resist, he takes one last, bittersweet kiss before saving her life by taking the Anchor. Even after the Inquisition disbands (in my world state), Solas doesn’t completely leave—he lingers, though in a way that’s both haunting and ethereal. 

The epilogue slides lay it out: 

"Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams, she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart." 

Even though they’re apart, his presence in her dreams shows the depth of his unresolved feelings. Watching her with sorrow from across an endless distance captures the conflict between his love for her and the path he’s chosen. Lavellan’s influence on him remains vivid and alive, a tether he can’t fully sever—even as he continues down his fateful road. 

Veilguard – the Letter  

Lavellan’s presence lingers for Solas in Veilguard, years after Trespasser. Her influence is woven throughout the letter he writes for her. 

"Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words." 

He calls no one else vhenan. Starting the letter with this deeply personal term immediately sets the emotional tone. Even after all the years they’ve been apart, Solas still addresses her as his heart, reaffirming that she’s his most profound connection. 

"My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary." 

Beneath the resolve of committing to his mission, is a quiet longing—a hope that Lavellan will understand and maybe even validate the choices that weigh so heavily on him. Her opinion still matters to him. 

What I particularly love is the phrase "...the world will be as it once was, and you will see...". Yes, it’s about his dream of restoring the beauty and harmony of the world he lost, but it also holds this fragile hope that she might still have a place in it. You can sense his desire to imagine a future where Lavellan remains part of his world—or his vision—despite the impossible circumstances. 

"That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin… you do not know how close I came to breaking." 

This part in the letter is such a window into how that moment has stayed with him. It’s clear that it still resonates with him, even after all these years. The way he admits he almost abandoned everything for her shows just how deeply her love impacted him. The word "breaking" says it all—it’s not just about weakness. It speaks to the massive tension between his centuries-old resolve and the pull of his love for her. 

"I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas...as I wanted." 

This confession is a raw admission of how much he wanted a life with her. The phrase "as I wanted" gives us a glimpse into an alternate reality he imagined, a life centered with Lavellan, one he ultimately denied himself for the sake of his mission. 

"What I feel for you will never change." 

This final line is everything. It’s Solas declaring that his love for Lavellan is eternal - because he is. Time, distance, guilt, and even the weight of centuries haven’t dulled what he feels for her. It also mirrors what he says to Lavellan in Trespasser, "I will never forget you." His devotion stands as this unshakable truth in a world full of loss and impermanence. 

Whether Lavellan forgives him, understands him, or even sees his words, the letter shows us a man still tethered.

Rook as a Conduit 

To me, Rook acts as a conduit for the voices that hold the most emotional weight for Solas—Lavellan and Mythal. Through Rook, we get to hear Solas talk about Lavellan directly, and what he says is just as revealing as the letter he left her.  

Solas: “When I served the Inquisition, I tried to avoid entanglements.” 

Rook: “Except for Inquisitor Lavellan.” 

Solas: “I said that I resolved to do so, not that I succeeded.” 

He went into his time with the Inquisition with a clear goal to stay detached. No bonds, no entanglements. But then Lavellan happened. Her love wasn’t something he could resist, no matter how much effort he put into maintaining his distance. 

Solas: “She is a good woman. Growing close to her was selfish of me.” 

When Solas calls Lavellan “a good woman,” it’s admiration and reverence. He doesn’t need to list her strengths outright; instead, his description of her as “good” reflects his personal definition of what that means. 

He also says “She is a good woman,” not “She was.” He’s speaking in the present tense. This small detail makes it clear that Lavellan isn’t just a memory to him or a closed chapter in his life. Even after years apart, she’s still a living, active presence in his heart and mind. He still holds her in respect and love. 

When he says growing close to her was selfish, he isn’t dismissing their bond. If anything, it’s a testament to how much he valued their connection, even though he knew it might ultimately cause her pain. 

Rook: “Do you regret it?” 

Solas: “I live with countless regrets. Some of them I have grown to cherish more than my victories.” 

This dialogue sums up just how much Lavellan means to Solas. He’s lived a long life filled with accomplishments that, more often than not, came with devastating consequences. But his relationship with Lavellan stands apart. That cherished regret tells us that his time with her brought him something no victory ever could: meaning, fulfillment, and joy. 

And then there’s the phrasing: “I have grown to cherish.” It’s also in the present tense. Lavellan’s impact on him isn’t just something from his past. It’s still alive, still deeply embedded in who he is.  

Lavellan holds a unique and enduring place in Solas’s heart. Even with all the pain and consequences of their relationship, she’s still a source of warmth and significance—a constant reminder of how deeply she mattered and still matters to him.  

Love Does Not Exist in Isolation 

I’ve seen comments out there that if Lavellan really mattered to Solas, her voice alone would’ve been enough to stop him from tearing down the Veil. I disagree. It’s clear that it takes a village to sway someone like Solas—a wounded immortal being carrying millennia of guilt and regret. Lavellan’s voice is absolutely foundational, but it’s part of a broader tapestry of influences that all come together at a critical moment. 

Solas’s decision to tear down the Veil doesn’t come from a lack of love for Lavellan. It’s rooted in overwhelming guilt and this deep sense of obligation to his people, to Mythal. Her voice matters because she was one of the first to challenge his beliefs. But hers alone couldn’t undo the weight and trauma of millennia. Voices like Mythal’s were necessary too. 

When Mythal releases Solas from her service, it’s a pivotal moment. It’s a severance of the bond that defined so much of his existence. For Solas, it’s freeing—but also incredibly painful. It forces him to reckon with his autonomy, to face the choices he’s made without the shield of loyalty to Mythal. For a man who’s been carrying so much self-loathing and regret, what a deeply uncomfortable and transformative moment. 

Then there’s Rook, who also plays a crucial role. Before Lavellan and Mythal appear, Rook is the one directly speaking to Solas, urging him to see the world and its people as worth saving. But once Lavellan (followed by Mythal) steps onto the stage, Rook falls silent. It’s as if they instinctively know their role has shifted. It’s no longer their place to persuade; that responsibility now belongs to Lavellan and Mythal.  

Of those voices, it is Lavellan’s that lingers as the last. Hers is not just a plea for him to reconsider his mission - it’s an affirmation that even in the face of millennia, their love is a truth he can’t deny. 

Through the Lens of Immortality 

For a mortal, it might be easy to see Solas’s love as fleeting because of how short-lived it was. What’s a year and a bit compared to thousands of years?  But for an immortal being—and someone as spiritual as Solas – I would think the depth of a bond matters more than how long it lasts. Solas’s love for Lavellan isn’t diminished by how brief their time together was; if anything, it’s magnified by its intensity—a flicker of light cutting through the endless darkness of his existence.  

And for someone who’s immortal, memories don’t fade the way they would for us mortals. Lavellan’s influence on Solas will stay vivid and eternal, untouched by time. Even though their time together was short, her presence is etched into who he is. Her love became this cornerstone of his internal struggle—something he wrestled with but couldn’t fully let go of. He almost gave it all up for her.

For an immortal, loving a mortal is a whole different kind of courage. It’s choosing to embrace something fleeting and fragile, knowing it will end. And still, Solas chose to love Lavellan. A bright chapter in a life that’s otherwise been filled with pain, loneliness, and time stretching endlessly in every direction. 

So yeah, she matters. 

At least, that’s how I see it. 

[reidmarieprentiss]

Better Together

Summary: Spencer knows he messed up, he wants to prove to you that it was a mistake. His words, not you. You would never be anything but his person.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: aftermath of taking a break, reinforcing love and commitment, mild groveling, happy ending

Word count: 2.9k

a/n: i would just like to say that i do not think engagement equals love and i also don't think it's necessary to get engaged to "prove" your devotion -- this is fiction and mama wanted a ring lmao

main masterlist part one

As Spencer stepped into the quiet of the apartment, the absence of your presence was palpable, a silent echo of the space growing between you both. His gaze drifted across the familiar surroundings until it settled on the note affixed to the fridge. The sight of it—a stark, solitary piece of paper in the place usually bustling with the warmth of shared meals and conversations—felt oddly jarring.

The note was simple, void of excess detail, stating only that you had gone to stay with a friend. It didn’t say who, nor did it need to. The message was clear: you needed space. Spencer’s heart sank a little more with the understanding, yet there was also a part of him that acknowledged the necessity of this distance for both of you.

He stood there for a long moment, the weight of the empty apartment pressing down on him, reminding him of the gravity of your last conversation. It was time to use this space effectively, to reflect on everything you had said, on the emotions that had driven you to seek solace away from him. Spencer realized this was not just a moment to passively wait for your return, but an active opportunity to address his own fears, to understand his hesitations about the future, and to think critically about how he could make you feel more cherished and included in his life.

With a heavy sigh, he moved away from the note and sank down onto the couch, the silence enveloping him. He knew the coming days would be challenging, filled with introspection and perhaps painful realizations. But there was also a glimmer of hope—the hope that this time apart could lead to healing and a stronger foundation for whatever lay ahead. Spencer pulled out a notebook and began to write, outlining his thoughts and feelings, the fears he rarely voiced, and the steps he might take to bridge the gap between you. This was his chance to transform understanding into action, to show not just through words but through meaningful changes that you truly were his world.

—

Spencer was acutely aware that healing the rift between you would require more than just time; it demanded meaningful, heartfelt efforts. The damage done was not something he could fix overnight, but he was committed to doing everything in his power to mend your heart.

He started with texts. Spencer wasn't one to rely heavily on technology for emotional communication, but he knew you cherished seeing his name light up your screen. Each message he sent was carefully crafted, infused with warmth and affection, designed to remind you of his presence and his regret. Despite the sweetness of his words, you found yourself wrestling with the urge to respond. You appreciated his efforts—they tugged at your heartstrings, yes—but they weren't enough to sweep away the hurt that had built up.

Recognizing the limitations of digital words, Spencer transitioned to something more personal: handwritten letters. Since he didn’t know where you were staying, he sent them to your workplace, hoping the surprise of receiving mail would bring a smile to your face. Each letter was filled with his unmistakable handwriting, his words oscillating between heartfelt confessions, sweet nothings, and the occasional goofy remark that was so quintessentially Spencer. You couldn't help but smile sadly with each letter you opened, touched by his efforts yet still guarded, the emotions each letter evoked a mix of nostalgia and melancholy.

As days turned into weeks without a reply from you, Spencer realized he needed to do more, yet he was mindful of your dislike for public displays or grand gestures. He knew whatever he did next had to respect your boundaries and preferences.

So, he kept it simple. One evening, he showed up outside your workplace with nothing but a small bouquet of your favorite flowers and a hopeful smile. He waited for you, not as a grand gesture, but as a quiet statement of his willingness to do whatever it took to begin mending the gaps between you.

When you saw him standing there, something inside you stirred. It was a testament to his understanding of you, a reflection of his desire to make things right in a way that felt safe and respectful. The sight of him, so hopeful and earnest, cracked the protective wall you had built around your heart just a bit more.

His approach was soft, his voice tentative when he spoke. "I didn't come to pressure you, just to give you these," he said, extending the flowers towards you. "I just want you to know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, not unless you want me to."

The simplicity of the gesture, the sincerity in his eyes—it all resonated with you, reaching deep into the places in your heart that still ached for him. This was the Spencer you loved, the one who understood you sometimes better than you understood yourself.

—

Your stay with Penelope provided a comforting pause, a needed respite that allowed you to sift through the whirlwind of emotions and considerations that clouded your thoughts. Despite the necessary distance and time for reflection, your draw to Spencer persistently tugged at your heart, a constant reminder of what might be at stake. After all, he remained the love of your life, despite everything.

Motivated mostly by yearning and somewhat by determination, you felt it was time to go back home. It was a Saturday, a day Spencer typically reserved for introspection and journaling—a practice you respected for its purpose, though lately, it seemed to fall short in facilitating effective communication between you two.

You entered the apartment quietly, the familiar setting wrapping around you like a well-worn comfort. You navigated through the silent spaces until you reached his office door. There he was, ensconced in his usual spot, pen in hand and deeply absorbed in his journal. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him, taking in the sight of your handsome boyfriend, so focused and earnest in his contemplation.

With a heart full of mixed emotions—hope, love, and a tinge of residual apprehension—you approached him quietly from behind. As you wrapped your arms around him in a gentle embrace, you could feel him tense briefly, startled by the unexpected contact. However, as soon as he recognized your scent, the one so intrinsically linked to home and comfort, his body relaxed under your touch.

“Hi, darling,” Spencer greeted, his voice a soft murmur of relief and warmth, the endearment lingering between you.

As you nestled closer into Spencer, the warmth of his neck against your cheek, you felt the familiarity of your bond slowly rekindling the embers of connection that had seemed so threatened recently.

"Hi, Spence," you mumbled softly, your words barely audible, filled with the comfort and sadness of everything that had passed between you.

"You came home," Spencer responded, his tone tinged with a mix of sadness and hopeful surprise, as if he hadn't fully believed he'd hear those words or feel your presence like this again.

You nodded against him, the gesture simple but loaded with emotion. "I missed you," you admitted, letting the truth of your feelings spill out in the quiet sanctity of his embrace. It was a confession, an olive branch extended in the hope of mending the fractures that had formed.

Spencer's hand came up to gently rest on one of yours, securing it against him, a physical affirmation of his gratitude for your return. He turned slightly within the circle of your arms, attempting to catch a glimpse of your face, needing to see the sincerity in your eyes that matched the words you just spoke.

"I missed you too," he confessed, his voice a whisper of relief mingled with lingering apprehension. "A lot more than I thought possible," he added, giving voice to the depth of his feelings during your absence.

There was a pause, a breath of silence as both of you allowed the honesty of the moment to sink in. Then Spencer ventured further, his words cautious but necessary, "Are we okay? I mean, can we... talk about everything?"

You felt a flutter of nerves at the question—it was the one you both needed to address, yet feared. Taking a deep breath, you stepped back just enough to look into his eyes, searching for and finding the earnest worry reflected there.

"We need to talk, yes," you agreed, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions. "But first, let me just say this... I came back not just because I missed you, but because I believe we can fix this."

His eyes searched yours, looking for the reassurance they so desperately needed, and he found it in your steady gaze. "I want that too," he said, the vulnerability in his voice striking. "I want us to work through this, no matter what it takes."

Encouraged by his words, you suggested, "Let's start by really listening to each other. No interruptions, just us, trying to understand where the other is coming from."

Spencer nodded in agreement, the gesture firm. "I’d like that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there are things I need to apologize for and areas where I need to do better."

"And I have things to admit too," you added, acknowledging your part in the strains that had tested your relationship. "Let's make a pact, here and now, to move forward together, with honesty and open hearts."

"Agreed," Spencer said, a soft smile finally breaking through the earlier tension. He extended his hand, a symbolic offering for you to shake. "Partners?"

"Partners," you affirmed, placing your hand in his, feeling a renewed sense of commitment enveloping the space between you.

—

"My parents' marriage... it wasn't something I ever wanted to emulate," Spencer confessed, the weight of his past evident in his tone. "And my father... he wasn't around. That left a mark on me, more than I usually admit."

Listening, you could see the struggle in his expression, the conflict of a man torn between his desires for a future with you and the scars of his past. His next words came slowly, each one a careful step forward. "I've been scared, really scared of turning into him, of failing as a husband... as a father."

"But," he continued, looking directly into your eyes, seeking the connection that had always grounded him, "knowing you, seeing how strong and committed you are, it gives me hope. When you came back... it meant everything. It told me that you're here, really here, even when things get tough."

You reached out, taking his hands in yours, squeezing them gently to offer reassurance and support. "Spencer, your past doesn't define your future. We can create something different, something better together. And I know you, you could never be like him. You're too caring, too thoughtful."

He nodded, a tentative smile beginning to form as the weight seemed to lift slightly off his shoulders. "Hearing you say that... it helps more than you know. I want to face these fears, not just for me, but for us. I want us to build a life together, free from the shadows of what was."

The conversation stretched on, each of you taking turns to lay bare fears and dreams, weaving a tapestry of shared hopes and commitments for the future. It was a pivotal moment, one that felt like a new beginning, as if you were both stepping out from under the heavy curtains of the past into a clearer, brighter day together.

—

One lazy Sunday, you were curled up on the couch, grateful for Spencer’s thoughtfulness as he had volunteered to run to the store to pick up the products you needed for your period. He had been so sweet and doting, eager to make you as comfortable as possible. In his rush to take care of you, however, he had left his phone behind on the kitchen counter.

When it started ringing, you instinctively picked it up, not even glancing at the screen, assuming it was your own phone. "Hello?" you answered casually.

"Spencer," Diana's familiar voice greeted you without skipping a beat. Before you could say anything, she continued. "I have your grandma’s ring. Would you rather I send it in the mail or do you want to come pick it up?"

You blinked in confusion, processing her words, especially the mention of a ring. "Um, hi, Diana," you replied awkwardly, realizing far too late that you were answering Spencer's phone, not your own.

"Oh, Y/N!" Diana's surprise was evident as she corrected herself. "I didn’t realize it was you."

You forced a small laugh, your mind already swirling with what Diana had just said. "Yeah, Spencer’s out running errands. I, um… picked up his phone by mistake."

"Well, no harm done," Diana chuckled lightly, though there was a warmth in her voice. "It’s good to hear your voice."

"Likewise," you replied, though your thoughts kept drifting back to the mention of the ring. "So, about that ring...?"

"Oh!" Diana said, realizing she might have let something slip before Spencer had a chance to talk to you. "It’s your grandmother’s engagement ring. Spencer and I were talking, and, well, he thought it might be nice to have it... for the future."

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of her words settling in. Spencer was thinking about marriage, about proposing to you. Suddenly, the reality of your relationship felt larger, heavier in the best possible way.

"That’s... really sweet," you managed to say, though your voice wavered slightly, emotions swirling beneath the surface.

Diana’s tone softened, sensing what this meant for you. "He loves you so much, Y/N. I can see it every time he talks about you. I’m sure when he’s ready, it’ll be perfect."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Thank you, Diana. I appreciate that."

After a few more moments of polite conversation, you hung up the phone, still clutching it in your hand as you stared off into the distance. When Spencer came back a little while later, arms full of bags, completely unaware of what had transpired, you gave him a warm, knowing smile, your heart swelling with even more love for the man who had just picked up your favorite snacks.

"Everything okay?" he asked, noticing your slightly different demeanor.

"Yeah," you replied softly, still holding onto that secret knowledge. "Everything’s alright."

—

When Spencer finally brought the ring home, he did so with a heart full of intentions and a mind made up to bridge any distance that had crept between you two. The apartment you shared was softly lit, the ambiance calm and intimate—an environment that felt right for what he planned to do.

It was just an ordinary evening by all appearances, but for Spencer, it carried the weight of every moment that led up to this, every trial and misunderstanding, and every reaffirmation of his love for you.

You noticed he was a bit more fidgety than usual, pacing slightly before stopping in front of you, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself. You watched, curiosity piqued by his nervous demeanor, a soft smile playing on your lips, encouraging him silently.

"Y/N," he began, his voice stronger than his trembling hands. "I know there have been times when I haven't communicated well, when I've let my fears and past dictate how I handle our future." He paused, searching your eyes for understanding. "For every moment you felt you weren't enough, I am profoundly sorry. It was never about you not being enough; it was about me being too scared to admit how much I needed you."

You felt a rush of emotions at his words, warmth spreading through your chest, your eyes welling up with tears that mirrored the sincerity and vulnerability in his voice.

He took another deep breath, then knelt before you, the little box in his hand now open to reveal a ring—his grandmother's ring, rich with history and sentiment. "I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't ever want to try," he continued, his voice steady despite the tears that started to form in his eyes. "Will you marry me, Y/N? Will you be the joy in my every day and the peace in every night? Will you let me spend the rest of my life proving that you are, and always will be, more than enough for me?"

The room seemed to hold its breath as you took in the depth of his proposal, every word infused with his love and regret for any pain he had caused. Smiling through your tears, you nodded, words momentarily failing you as emotions took over.

"Yes, Spencer," you managed, voice choked with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."

As he slipped the ring onto your finger, a symbol of promise and continuity, you both embraced, a long, tight hug that spoke volumes. It was a new beginning, a recommitment not just to each other but to always striving to be the best for each other.

In that moment, the past's shadows seemed to dissolve, replaced by the clarity of a shared future, one built on mutual love, respect, and the unwavering commitment to see each other through not just the easy moments, but especially through the challenging ones.

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[just-a-ghost00]

Their energy towards you now

This reading is meant for romantic connections that are currently in a separation, whether you have been in a relationship or not. When I talk about separation, I mean that you and this person are having minimal to no contact, whether they live near you or far from you. If you do interact, it is not in a romantic context. This separation can be on a mutual accord or happened progressively over time.

Group 1

6 of cups

What caught my attention about this card was the hourglass. It was beautifully drawn and surrounded by the water spilling from the cups. It gave me the impression of someone wishing strongly that their feelings toward the other could turn back time. But this is something that is not one sided, because the two rows of cups were spilling water that is interconnecting around the object. They are being nostalgic about the times spent together and the memories you shared. And they may be feeling like you are too, which both comforts and saddens them. I got a feeling like this person is wondering : if we’re both regretting what happened and missing each other, why are things still the same?

Ace of cups

On this card, a cup is sheltering a flower in blooming. Out of that flower is rising a water droplet that kinda looked like a pearl. Not only does this person like you but they are cultivating those feelings. They nurture them, water them, like they would a flower. Those feelings are precious to them because they were shared. Despite everything that happened, they still love you as if it were the first day. They don’t want them to disappear. Because if they do, then you will fade into their memory. I feel like this person is sometimes crying over your absence at night. They feel like the situation is out of their hands but they hope that, if they keep loving you, if their love is strong enough, you’ll come back around.

4 of wands

The wands are kinda placed like a fence and at their feet lie two halves of a pomegranate as well as a maple leaf. It made me feel like this person still wishes to protect the foundation that you had built with them, whether this took the form of a friendship, a partnership or more. After all this time, they still perceive you as their one. As the person they wish to build a future with. They still think of this being a possibility. They still wish to work toward that goal. Not only that but they also want to support you more than anything and be by your side. I feel like this person wants to protect you from the world and keep you to themselves.

High Priestess

A woman is having her back on the quarter of a moon. Around her lays a snake. When nighttime comes specifically, this person is filled with desire for you and intentions of transforming this connection. Most of these person’s feelings and thoughts may be subconscious or repressed. Even if they’re aware of the attraction they have for you, this person doesn’t wish you to know. This is something they want to keep to themselves for now. A part of them is afraid you wouldn’t understand them. Another just wants to lay low and observe what your reactions are, to gain knowledge and heal.

3 of wands

What you may also not suspect is that this person wishes to close the distance and come to you. They may be planning a travel near your home or a way to get into contact with you again, reignite the flame. This person wishes for this separation to end and pick up where you left the connection in hopes that something good will come out of it. For those of you that live at a distance from one another, I’m getting the impression you may have felt it coming but were not sure of your intuition. You may hear about it soon, either through someone else or in an indirect way. For instance, this person may post on their social media about one thing but their post will make you feel like something is brewing.

Group 2

Page of cups

This person has developped feelings for you but they may still be thinking about the past or afraid that their past will have an influence on your connection, which may be one of the reasons why you are in separation at the moment. They feel emotionally linked to you and wish to come towards you. However, something is holding them back. They may be afraid that the past will repeat itself or that you may not understand them, share the same point of view about the connection. They however still care about you and feel positively towards you.

10 of wands

They have a lot on their plate. A lot of worries about what the future holds, about whether a reconciliation is possible. They may also be busy with a lot of other responsibilities, which may burden them and interfere in how they feel towards you. I feel like this person is tired of being played with and bearing the weight of their feelings. Though they like you a lot, the fact that they cannot express their emotions freely is taking a toll on them. This person is also tired of being held back by their past trauma, of having to fight to feel loved and cared for. They may be feeling like they've given more than they should have and may be waiting for you to make a move, if you wish for the connection to progress.

Black Numen

Despite their feelings, this person kinda has lost hope about your connection working out. The fact that nothing is happening in the 3D and that they don't see the changes they hoped for may be adding to their disappointment and sadness. Again, I get a feeling that a lot of other things are happening to this person and it really tires them out. They may be in a phase of doubt where they are not sure whether how they feel towards you is enough to keep the connection alive. They may also doubt your intentions towards them and feel like you tricked them. Overall, I just get the feeling that they just wish to be at peace with this connection, whether it's with or without you. They want to be freed of this feeling of confusion and waiting for things to unfold.

The Sun

In another context, this card may have been a positive one but I feel like here this card is showing that this person is slowly retreating their energy and focus from the connection and trying to move one without you. The character one the card is walking towards the left. This person is determined to get back to a state of hapiness, even if that means cutting ties with you, because they feel like this has been going on for too long and isn't going anywhere. They feel like there ain't nothing much they can do about it so they might as well focus on themselves, like they used to before they met you. I feel like they don't hold any grudges or resentment towards you. They are grateful for your shared experience but they are in an energy of prioritizing themselves.

Queen of cups

This person intends to nurture themselves and love themselves first, however they still care about you and appreciate you. They have decided that they will leave the outcome of this connection up to fate and in the meantime, they will fill their own cup and learn to become one with themselves. I get the message that even if you're apart and even if it turns out you won't be together, this person will always hold a place for you in their heart because your connection is special and precious to them. They will always think of you fondly and speak about you with a warmth in their voice because what you have shared is unforgettable in their eyes. Deep down, they will still keep the hope that you can be united again, but they will no longer chase after it. Should you want to come back, they will leave the door open.

Group 3

Hermit

During your separation, this person has thought a lot about you, the connection, what they wanted out of it, what they felt like they could bring to the table. They've really pondered about the meaning of your encounter, the importance you had to them and the lessons they could learn from this experience. And it feels like they have had an epiphany. They realized a lot of things that they may have repressed in the past and really came to terms with it. I get a message of someone looking at the sky and the stars, wondering what the other is up to, whether they are thinking about the connection as well. I feel like this person never lost hope of coming back to you and the whole time, they were only thinking of you and the future.

White Numen

While in separation, they hoped that you would come rushing to them. But realizing that you didn't, they started to question their methods and their feelings. And they understood that if they wanted to see a change, they had to make a difference. They had to create the reality they wanted to see and be the author of their own story. This person understood that, yes of course you had your role to play, but they also had their own script to follow to ensure the play would get its happy ending. Basically, they learned that it takes two to tango and that for a relationship to work out, both parties need to be walking in the same direction and find a common ground they can build on. This person is creatively inspired and the puzzle pieces are starting to assemble in their mind's eye. They now know where they stand and where they want to go.

Ace of cups

Their feelings for you have been renewed. As you were no longer in contact, they realized the value of your affection, how good you were to them. They found out that they missed you dearly and that they took you for granted. Now, they want to give your connection another chance. They wish to reconcile and reciprocate your feelings. They want to get into contact with you again and put an end to the separation. They may be thinking of ways to reach out to you without you freaking out or rejecting them right away. They are hopeful.

Chariot reversed

Though they want to come back to you, they feel a little scared to do so. They don't just want to mindlessly rush into this, without thinking of the consequences and without being sure of your position as well. They just don't want to be disappointed. Another thing I am picking up on is that this person is being delayed. Things and people are trying to get in the way of your reunion right now. Part of it is related to this person's fear of rejection. But not just that. For some, I am getting that this person planned to travel towards you but their trip got delayed or canceled for some reason. Think of traffic disturbances, a flight being cancelled because of a natural disaster, them having to postpone their travel because of financial issues or family matters. Their work could also be a factor in this situation. Their boss could have refused their request to get some time off of work for example.

10 of pentacles

Even if obstacles are stending in the way of your connection, this person is determined to put in the work to see it prosper over time. They are aware that it may be difficult and take a lot of time to flourish, but they are confident that it has the potential to grow into something valuable, that will last. This person feels lucky that they have you and the connection. They see the value in what you share and they intend to protect it and guard it against anyone or anything that would try to keep you apart. This person may be envisioning a partnership with you, whether that is on a professional level, on a friendship level, a familial level or romantic level. They want you to be a part of their legacy and their inner circle. And if they have to start from scratch to ensure that, they will without any hesitation, because they know it is worth it.

[wandagcre]

Hii! How you doing?

I just read your drabble about mob!Sam reaction to reader asking for a divorce.

Could you do one were reader thinks the only way of getting away from Sam is being dead so she tries to k!lol herself and Sam finds her and she gets really scare because she might lose the love of her life, so after that she does everything to be a better wife for reader

if i break | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You didn't know how much those four words would affect the following days for you and Sam. With your deteriorating mental state, Sam's punishment, and out of control aggressiveness, you're backed up in the corner, completely stuck.

WARNING: making out, suggestive content, groping, spanking, mild torture, conditioning, self-harm, suicide attempt Words: 2.5k Note: you can read this as a stand-alone bc it's an alternative scenario to the drive you mad series but those previous parts can give u better context! reminder to not actually put yourselves in this situation guys this is all (an unhealthy) fantasy

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

One would say you shouldn't be ungrateful—a roof over your head, jewelry and clothing that could solve a block's poor demise instantly, and a food to eat on your plate is the least of your worries. There's acres of space, just for you and your wife.

Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.

Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.

You've been punished by Sam that very day, when you courageously asked her for a divorce. You felt ridiculed for a short and humerous answer of the woman whom you've loved for a while. But even that couldn't sustain the foundation you built with Sam alone.

That same night, you found yourself being spanked and manhandled by the woman.

You've overheard of her tone and voice, the calculation in her cruel words  — how it roared affirmative and certain to follow through as she planned despite the protests by some of her inner circle, sometimes including her own right hand and sister, Tara, made your wife sound as though she's detached from humanity.

You regret learning an ounce from that day. You couldn't believe how you let yourself be in this sick charade, laying down beside this woman whom you once adored.

So, when Sam came home as usual, with her loosened tie and undone earrings, the thick tension resurfaced once again.

But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.

Although you obliged, knowing where it was headed from the start, you were blinded. After all there was an undeniable spark that you knew wouldn't easily go away with Sam's affection and the skill she had to pleasure you. You straddled Sam as your thumb caressed her baby hair, her soft kneading on your ass that only grew rough and sliding over your shorts to feel it bare as her kisses became needy and almost bruising.

What you didn't know was how Sam felt you were giving in as though it was a parting gift to her. The thought riled her up to an increasing madness.

She flipped you over, hovering beneath you and pushed your head against the soft mattress. It made you yelp at the force she exuded.

"I fought so hard to have you, amor!" Sam's frustrated voice roared in the master's bedroom, tears welling up your eyes. "What makes you think I'll let you get away this time? Maybe you're not bright enough if you think I would sign divorce papers from you," she angrily spat.

You felt so small. It was beyond suffocating as Sam and the way her fingers dug in your scalp as she pressed you down while within her grasp felt nothing more but terrifying.

"I-I don't feel good. Not for a while now, Sam." You admit, words slurring in your contorted mouth.

Sam gave you a mocking grin. "And I didn't wish to be this rough on you, sweetheart. But you've left me with no choice,"

She gave you a good spanking until the flesh of your ass was tender and stinging. By the end of it, you were sniffling and in tears. Sam didn't bother putting back your underwear, it was nothing but humiliating. She swiftly carries your weight like you're featherlight, your body slung over her shoulder. Your vision is upside down and you began to wail in protest, cold sweat ran through your body.

You didn't trust how Sam was handling you — this woman that stood before you didn't hold remorse nor familiarity and warmth you knew. Sam was akin to that first night she had you handcuffed. True enough, it was history repeating itself as you found yourself dropped in a smaller bed, enough to fit one, worst was how bits of it felt like an exposed space, sealing your deal in this prison-like room.

It was dowright ridiculous.

Sam firmly held you by the wrist, against the metal headboard. The clanking was continuous, you look up through your blurry vision, tears not stopping, you're cuffed.

"We go by a reward system here, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll keep you fed. That is if — a big if — you won't lash out. All you have to say is you won't bring up a silly thing as divorce ever again." Sam patted your cheek, "Of course, you need to prove it by actions too. You're monitored. I'll be the judge of that." She motions over the camera at the corner of the room.

You wipe your nose, sniffling. "Isn't this too over the top?"

"Better vicinity, is all I'm going to say." Sam clicks her tongue, her body above you and one of her hands intimately placed on your bare stomach where your night gown slightly ridden up.

You had no phone inside, even the use of television was needed to be earned. Naturally, the almost empty space made you think a lot. It was few hours before you were freed from the cuffs.

It brought more realization that you were being isolated, completely tucked away from the existing relationships you've built with your friends. It happened slow and deliberate, that you found yourself hopeless to Sam's doings. Maybe she was even behind the unjustified killings from years ago, at your little town. Hell, maybe you were in denial all these time that Sam conjured on eliminating your mother figure from work, too.

You wouldn't be surprised anymore but the thought makes you retch.

The first few days was tough. You cried until you became exhausted. Soon it was futile and useless. You tried protesting by not eating at all, wondering what starvation will bring, only to be intervened by Sam herself. She kept you fed and bathed you, that you felt disgusted. Sam wasn't worthy to see your vulnerable state.

Sometimes, you rebelled against the trained women she sent in — at times where Sam couldn't make an exception to personally accommodate you. They let you angrily punch them, never fighting back, which made you smaller and invisible. These trained guards were obligated to report to Sam and so your punishment was still made.

You even tried memorizing the room. Attempting to knock at the walls to see if it had a weak spot, scanning as much as you can. Albeit, the windows itself were also useless. You should have known better that Sam would kept it close and bulletproof.

The depravation soon kicked in. You're conditioned at the reward she gave you that even a simple few hours of watching television made you a little bit at ease. Anything that came from outside world, you soaked it up. Nonetheless, you were treated like a pet.

But it didn't change your state, life still being sucked out of your very body.

One night, Sam was scrubbing your back clean as you sat at the bathtub. It was filled with silence, with occasional comments from Sam from the outside. She acted like everything was normal.

"Why are you doing this?" Was all you could say. You were tired.

The silence covered you two until you were in your towel, ready to dry off.

"This," Her index finger was in the middle of your chest. "Does not only beat for you, but a part of me as well." Sam continued, her voice tenuous and low. "You didn't know how your existence motivated me to survive that hell hole that my father sent me into. I need you back. I need my wife back. Isn't that all enough?"

"But what part of me do you need? Should I be stuck in that submissive and clueless, attending to your needs? Or did you want the girl that you left all those years?" You bravely confronted Sam, who was taken aback at your words.

At the end, you wouldn't take it all back. You wanted her to know—to fully simmer those thoughts.

You wanted to feel something and to end it all at the same time.

Sam had overlooked and underestimated your creativity. The cheap toilet was one of the things that was left unfinished for this spare room and it only took you to carry out its heavy lid, smashing the ceramic cover in pieces.

All you registered was the sharp piece against your soft skin, your knees that trembled and thudded against the hard floor. You feel your consciousness slipping, the fluttering of your eyes slow and uncontrable. Hopefully, to no return, you thought.

It was a blur, dreamless state. You were at peace for a while.

Though you had a small inkling that it won't last for long, you feel your mind waking up to consciousness. Your ears register the beeping of the electrocardiogram served as a white noise and your breathing sounded like it was contained. Opening your eyes, you see that you're tubed and one of your arms were infused with IV. You feel a gentle hold, on your unharmed forearm by Sam herself. She looked out of place, wearing your favorite cardigan as she slept soundly beside you.

When you moved and groaned, it stirred Sam to consciousness as well. You feel the fear brewing but it long vanished when your wife looked nothing but in complete distraught with tears spilling from her exhausted brown eyes — unlike you've ever seen before — temporarily stripped away from her cruelty and madness.

She held tighter on your forearm, but it was out of desperation and concern more than anything.

"You asked me and I never answered that day," Sam continued to sob. You see her physically restraining to hold all of you that it started to pain you. "I can't—I can never imagine being that stupid again. It could have been my last words and you suffered enough from me,"

"Sam... I could have asked better—" You protest as clarity hit you, but Sam's quivering lips halted you.

Your wife strongly shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense. Let me finish, please. It was entirely my fault and mine alone for putting you in this situation and I never made myself much of safe space for you. But all I needed was everything you can offer. All of you, mi amor. I don't care if it was the girl I left, the one who changed, all I know is that I cannot do this life without you," She moves to bring your palm over her cheek. You feel Sam's fraught, her need to feel that you are tangible and beside her.

For a moment your anger and frustration with her had faded. It was a day full of crying, nonetheless.

Recovery was surprisingly better than you expected with Sam's improved presence around you. She was downright attentive to your needs, more than ever before. You need to pee? Sam was right by the door. You wanted to read or watch a movie? Sam could not care any less, she'll do work beside you, too. Most of the time, your wife would watch them with you, surprisingly even if she hates the genre. Were you craving for a specific food? Sam will go and get it for you.

You even joked that you wanted a foot massage but Sam took it seriously, immediately went to give you one.

"You know I'm not pregnant right?" You humorously told her. The way her head spun to your direction, flustered, had you uncontrollably smile.

Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"

"Don't you have work to do, whatever it is?"

"No. I can do them remotely, it's always been a flexible thing." I have my priorities sorted out much better now." Sam casually says. You've never seen her this carefree and it hit a pang of warmth and familiarity more than ever.

You nodded slowly. "Alright. But, can you stop acting like I'm fragile? I don't... I haven't thought of doing anything since then." The playfulness quickly faded from you.

You looked away and cannot help but glance over the healing wound on your forearm. You busied yourself with the film playing on screen. Sam opens her hand that was adjacent to your side, you don't fight the invitation and instead you make the move to hold it.

"I know you're not, mi amor. It's not that, it's just—" Sam sighed, though her eyes never left yours. "I don't want to spend remaining of my time with you by fighting or making you suffer ever again, even by the slightest just because I am greedy when it comes to you, amor. I want to make better memories, whether you choose to stay or not."

You don't reply and Sam was unchanging. All you knew is how it lifted a great weight on your shoulder.

You've never returned to the room where she kept you nor passed by the area. Interestingly enough, it was under construction again.

Days later, Sam remained at home. She didn't fail with the flowers and her gifts increasingly became thoughtful. It was between a new book of the genre you wanted, it could've been a trip to a place you mentioned. The most surprising so far was her first attempt of doing a crochet tulips for you.

It was a better sense of direction for the two of you. Sure you had needs, and the sexual tension and libido may have kicked in, but it felt like you were in a courting phase. It annoyed you sometimes, how your wife pranced in almost nothing and you were just to stare.

Though if you asked, Sam wouldn't hesitate to tell you—whether it was work, or something personal you've always been too shy or afraid to do so from the past. If you asked to burn the world, Sam would've handed you the gas and the lighter.

That's why you were taken aback during a particular rainy day, you perked up at the sound of the door and saw Sam who came back with nervous smile on her face and a new material on her other hand. She handed you a manila envelope and followed you as you took it and sat on one of the chairs at the dining area.

You curiously took it and opened it, your throat quickly dried, loss at words as you saw that it was the divorce papers you've been asking for. It made you suddenly stand up straight.

"It's only a choice up to you now. No dirty games from me, I swear on it." Sam made a sign of oath. You looked at her with the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "If you want, I can send you best of my men, back to your town for extra measure. Not to update me! Just because, well, you've been associated to me for quite some time." She rubbed her neck in what appears to be out of shame.

You incredulously looked at Sam's face. To be back from the life you have been taken away from, to reunite with people that you've missed... but it also meant being away from Sam and to no longer call her your wife—it felt sickening. You were coming around to closely forgiving her, to giving her another chance as she proved herself better than before. You doubt that this woman can actually hurt you again, after all.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you courageously grabbed Sam by the collar of her shirt. "Fuck you, Sam Loomis. Don't mess around like this."

"I'm not complaining, but I don't understand..." Sam murmured as you pushed the double door, leading her to the bed.

You two ended up catching on much needed passionate touches and sinful nights you've deeply missed with the woman. Your soul was ignited with each kiss Sam has left your neck, every touch had set you on fire. Funnily enough, the roles were reversed. You cannot be parted away from her, your arm slung and secure over her nape. What moved you the most was her kissing away the now-scarring form on your forearm.

The divorce papers? Somewhere lying on the floor, completely forgotten.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[writing-the-stars]

A Second Chance Romance

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader, Unnamed OC x Fem!Reader

Summary: It had been years since you last heard from Klaus Mikaelson, and just as you were finally ready to move on, he decided to remind you of the love you once shared.

Warnings: Angst (As Always) and Emotional Cheating. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hey guys! I'm baaaaaaaaaaack. Did you miss me? It's been far too long. I'm alive and I have been slowly ramping up to my return. Starting with this story! The title, to be frank, is not greatest, but I think this is a nice little story to raise me from the dead. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for reading!!! Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

You perfect the practiced smile you’ve been working on for weeks. It should be easy for you by now– it should come naturally. Everything about this day shouldn’t feel as forced as it does, and yet, on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, you could only feel the apprehensive dread pooling in your gut. 

The heirloom gown from your soon to be mother-in-law feels heavier than it should, almost suffocating, magnifying the doubts consuming your mind. This was supposed to be the genesis of your new life, the start of your would-be happily ever after. Yet, that menacing fear of regret whittles away at any persuasion you used to get yourself to this moment. You were so sure this is what you wanted. The venue, the menu, the flowers, the seating– all meticulously chosen for this day. But with the weight of vows looming in the horizon, the word “mistake” seems to have made a home in your mind. Were you really prepared to commit yourself to a lifetime with this man?

He was good and pure-hearted– kind, caring, and devoted. He treasured you, loving you in a way that you could never fully reciprocate. You do have an affinity for the man waiting for you at the end of the aisle and you know he could give you a stable and contented life. Yet, the allure of the security his last name would bring pales when you reflect on the life you are now trying to shed. 

Memories intricately woven with passion and adventure. Each day an unpredictable surprise filled with experiences that reshaped the person you once were. The encompassing romance that breathed new meaning to your life, sparking a deeper fulfillment as you were pushed beyond your familiar boundaries. A chapter of your life where your heart had found its rhythm. And despite the inevitable challenges, especially given his past, you were unwavering in facing them with him, and your life was richer for it. 

That danger of living on the edge wasn’t something you realized you craved until it was suddenly taken away. But that was not a sustainable life, you remind yourself as you latch on to a new flaw in your appearance to occupy your mind. 

Your groom is safe— a predictable and reliable anchor in life. A mundane routine you can easily fall into. He promises stability and security, granting you a solid foundation for your future. Which is why you convinced yourself to marry him. It wouldn’t be the life of fantasy that you longed for, but you would be content. 

“Hello, love.”  

Everything within you stills at the sound of the ghost of your past. Your eyes travel the expanse of the mirror, landing on the reflection of his figure propped against the doorframe of your bridal suite– emulating the way he used to watch you get ready. 

“Your beauty is nothing short of breathtaking.” 

“What are you doing here?” the words a mere whisper as they are pushed through your constricted throat. You force yourself to stare fixedly through the mirror, resisting the urge to turn around. Because if you do, if you physically lay your eyes on him, it would shatter all the progress you have made the past three years. And you're determined not to grant him the satisfaction and reward of rejoicing his return as if his actions did not hurt you.

“I’ve heard about your impending nuptials. I couldn’t possibly miss your big day.” 

You laugh, a hollow sound. After all this time, the man you spent years waiting by the door for has finally returned, just as you've made the decision to move on. Bitterness saturates you at the audacity of this man to appear today of all days, wearing that brazen grin. Did he truly believe he could waltz back into your life after everything?

“Why? So you can stop me from ridding myself of you. Starting over and actually having a shot at happiness.” 

Your voice is sharp– venom drips from every word, aiming to puncture another layer deeper into his calloused over heart. His jaw ticks, the only indication you hit your target. 

“I like to think you were quite happy with me, love.”

You scoff, a pathetic attempt to dismiss the validity of his words. Your gaze returns to your own reflection, beginning to readjust the lacey veil pinned to your head, needing a distraction from the man who has an incomprehensible hold on you. 

“Why are you really here, Klaus?” his name falling from your lips as if your tongue had been molded to say it, “You didn’t come back to town just to watch me get married.” 

He steps into the room– reflection growing as he steps closer to you. 

“I’ve come to wish you luck,” you watch as his turquoise eyes trail your frame before returning to your gaze in the mirror, “Though I can’t help but wish you were wearing that dress for me.” 

Something inside you breaks, setting free a torrent of long-suppressed emotions that had been brewing beneath the surface.

“You threw that away 7 years ago when you left me. I waited for you. For 4 years, I waited for you to come back like an idiot because you promised your heart to me and I was dumb enough to fall for it. And now, once I’ve finally picked up the pieces and I’m ready to start again, you want to come back and take that away from me!”

“I left to protect you!”

“No, Klaus! You left because you were afraid. Because for once somebody actually meant something to you and you couldn’t handle the responsibility of that reality. Because, in spite of all my best efforts, you have it solidified in that warped brain of yours that you are incapable of being loved. That no one could ever truly want to be with you. So what do you do? You run. You push people away to avoid your biggest fear and end up becoming your own self-fulfilling prophecy. Well guess what, Klaus? It worked. You’re alone now.”

You turn your back on the Mikaelson, finally ready to give yourself over to your groom. You open your mouth to dismiss the hybrid, but the words die on your tongue as your eyes meet his. His reflection reveals the glistening of tears brimming in his eyes, on the verge of spilling over, but you know Klaus Mikaelson is too prideful to ever let you see him cry. Yet, the thought of it stills you. You take in the sight of him—his clenched fists, his labored breathing—and for the first time, you truly see him. You see the vulnerability beneath the facade, the depth of his struggle, and it stops you in your tracks. 

The wounded boy who only sought his father's approval and his mother's affection. The scars etched deep into his soul, born from the torment of being a bastard cruelly shunned. The millennia of isolating loneliness that followed—an inhumane punishment for another's sin. Beyond that, you witness the fresh wounds your words have inflicted, reopening the scars you had fought so hard to help him heal. Your vengeful words have confirmed his lifelong fear. Here stands a man who has finally gained everything he ever desired, only to realize he is on the brink of losing it all. It moves you, the sight of his insecurities laid bare just for you

"Say it. Tell me you no longer love me, and I will walk away. I will leave you to marry this man, and you will never hear from me again. I will do that for you. But if there is any part of you that still cares, leave with me. Give me another chance."

You stare at the hybrid, conflict brewing within you. You desperately want to believe him—God knows you do—but if he walks away from you again, your heart couldn't endure another shattering. You glance at your reflection in the mirror, adorned in the gown of a woman whose son you could only truly tolerate.  

Is that really the life you want to live? 

You return your gaze to the Mikaelson, stunned by the single tear rolling down his cheek—his ultimate vulnerability. This simple, profound act compels you to accept what you've always known deep down. You can never truly walk away from this man. You love him too much.

Taglist: @catmikaelson20, @gamarancianne, @hazgold, @devotedlycrookeddonut

If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know!

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

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[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Stay out of the woods

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The greatest regret General Kemrak had was setting foot on the human world of Tenvus III.

At first things had gone well for his forces. Organized resistance was scarce as the planet was on the outer reaches of human controlled space which meant it had a fraction of a defense force a normal human world would have.  They were easily swept away in the opening phase of the invasion.

Clustered around the largest city on the planet, the humans held out for little under a day before Kemrak’s forces overran them and secured the capital. The official government of the planet surrendered and a token garrison force was left behind under the new military rule of Kemrak while the rest of the invasion fleet continued onward into human territory.

Though a temporary position until a civilian Geminite official could be brought in, Kemrak took the position seriously and began laying the foundation for Tenvus III’s introduction as the latest conquest to empire territory.

New habitation zones were cleared out, the space port was expanded to handle larger craft, and the capital was further reinforced into a true stronghold that would take months if not years to dislodge Geminite forces from. All made possible via the use of human labor for mere rations as compensation.

Things began taking a downhill turn when Kemrak began to spread his control to other communities. Given the planets lack of infrastructure, many smaller human communities existed deep within the dense forests and were only accessible either by air or by rugged and unreliable beat path roads.

None of these communities had strategic value so were ignored during initial stages, but now with preparing the world for annexation they too needed to be subdued. To that end Kemrak dispatched multiple squads via captured maps the general had planned to hear back from them by week’s end that they had achieved their goals.

A week came and went and to the general’s surprise no word came.

Radio transmissions were silent and not a single warrior returned from the dispatched squads to give an update. So the general dispatched more squads this time with the objective of finding the lost squads and subduing the human settlements.

Another week came and went and still silence.

The garrison forces were now becoming anxious at the disappearance of so many of their comrades. Unease crept into their hearts and the human captives were all too keen to see the sudden loss of heart of their conquerors.

Labor riots broke out, small scale sabotage acts increased by 17%, isolated groups of Geminite warriors were attacked and left crippled by human mobs. While control of the major planetary arteries was still within the general’s grasp, he was no fool to see that if left unchecked he would be facing a full-fledged uprising.

Seeking to quell the human’s newfound sense of defiance and calm the hearts of his men, the general took the majority of his forces to secure the nearest listed settlement while leaving behind a token force that was still capable of managing the humans.

Row upon row of armor vehicles and troop carries filed out of the capital city and made west towards what was known as “Hangman’s Gulch”; a remote town stead situated deep in the forests along a deep ravine that seemingly had no bottom.

With each passing hour General Kemrak noted how the roads began losing their maintenance and began degrading into nothing more than dirt path amongst the trees. By the four hour mark the trees had become so dense that the armored vehicles had been forced into the front to slowly continue plowing through the trees.

As the daylight began to dwindle the general lamented that he would not reach the settlement before nightfall and so ordered a halt to the advance. A small area was cleared out and a camp was established for the night. His last orders for the night before heading to his own tent were ensuring the sentries and patrols provided maximum coverage.

The next morning when the general awoke he was greeted by the sight of a human knife wedged into the pillow next to his head. He fell backwards as he pushed himself out of bed and called for his guards who came rushing into his tent.

He demanded to know how such a would-be assassin had bypassed the sentries and patrols. To his horror his guards informed him that during the night every patrol and sentry had gone missing. Their all clear signals had been set to repeat.

Kemrak ordered the entire camp awoken and place on high alert and for every inch to be search for any lurking intruders. His guards complied and exited the tent just as the beads of sweat began to run down the general’s face. He was under no illusion of the message his would be killers had given him. That despite everything he had, every ounce of power he wielded, they could kill him at any time.

Within the hour the entire camp was torn apart by the search parties as well as the surrounding area, but nothing could be found of the attackers. Of the missing sentries and patrols however, the search parties found the grizzly remains of pools of blood and blood trails going off deeper into the woods. The troops were once more becoming enthralled with fear and the general quickly got them moving to the settlement.

Another four hours of marching and Kemrak had finally reached the settlement. It was just as the map described, perched alongside a deep ravine with no visible bottom and comprising of two dozen small homes and stores.

Surrounding the town, Kemrak issued the command for his warriors to charge in and take any human they found captive for questioning. He sat in his command vehicle as the town was soon engulfed with Geminite warriors, yet not a single shot was fired. The general pondered this when his radio transmitter chimed and a report from the warriors came in.

The entire town was empty.

Not a single human, adult or child, was present.

Frustration mounted within the general as he realized he had been led on a wild goose chase. In a fit of rage he told his warriors to burn down the settlement and take whatever they wanted, and that tomorrow they would head back to the capital. His warriors cheered his name as they sacked and looted the settlement long into the night and danced around the fires of burning buildings in celebration.

Quietly, the general had also redoubled the sentries and pulled the patrols closer as the flames continued into the night. He would not be caught unaware again and sat inside his command vehicle with his command staff as the revelries slowly faded into the night.

When the general fell asleep he did not know; but as he roused himself he felt that he was still inside the command vehicle. As he rubbed his eyes to shrug off the morning drowsiness he felt something cold and pasty touch his eyelids.

Wiping away whatever the liquid was with his sleeve he looked down at his hand to see it was blood.

His hands were drenched in blood, but as he opened his mouth to cry out he took in the rest of his command vehicle and the cry shriveled in his throat.

All around him were the mutilated bodies of his command team. Some spread across the decking like rag dolls, while others still sat at their posts as if waiting for his next command as if the gashes in their throats were a minor inconvenience.

He scrambled with the release hatch and fell out of the vehicle with a loud thud drawing the attention of nearby guards. They rushed over to their general but froze in horror as they saw the contents of the command vehicle.

Orders for status reports from the sentries had to be beaten into the guards by Kemral as hey locked up in shock. The orders were relayed and answered in short fashion but not with a desired outcome.

Once again, all sentries and patrols had gone missing sometime in the night.

By now the rest of the force was waking up. Despite the best efforts of Kemrak’s officers the news of yet another enemy attack spread like wild fire dousing the confidence the previously nights sackings had ignited. Worse yet was the loud commotion coming from the front of their encampment that was drawing more and more warriors.

Kemrak stormed to the front of his camp to find a lone warrior shambling from the tree line back to them. They dragged a broken leg behind them as they stumbled closer but known of the watching warriors would go to help them. For the lone warrior was as terrifying as the nightmare they had seen in the command vehicle.

The warrior’s hands were gone; all that was left were two bloody stumps that had been singed closed. Clumps of their tattered uniform clung to their body and fluttered in the breeze to reveal the mauled and bloodied chest of the warrior. Chunks of skin had been peeled away to reveal raw muscle twitching with every movement.

Kemrak stood at the front of his warriors as the lone survivor finally came before them.

“They say…..” the warrior stuttered through bloody lips, “we’ll all die…..tonight….unless we give them…” The lone survivor pointed at Kemrak.  The warriors behind Kemrak murmured amongst themselves but a quick glare from the general silenced them.

“We do that…” the warrior continued as they spat out a thick glob of blood and took several deep gasps, “…and they let us go….and give us back….everyone…missing..”

With their message delivered, the warrior collapsed to the ground like a puppet’s whose strings had finally been cut.

As the medics finally went forward Kemrak’s eyes passed over his men. Where once was unshaken loyalty, now lay the tendrils of betrayal. He could not look a moment more at them and turned back to look at the surrounding woods and try to figure some way out of this nightmare.

It was at that moment he felt his hearts stop.

There was something moving amongst the trees.

[barzzal]

call me crosby → interlude p.2

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, language, swearing, mentions of blood genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 9.3k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: the interlude is a two-part chapter dedicated for what happened between sidney and reader in the past and why everything had to happen ;) pls pls tread lightly as these chapters contain sensitive themes. you may stop reading at any time should it make you feel uncomfortable. this is just a reminder that you are still responsible for what you consume. all that aside, happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Your mind wanders to the not so distant past while you do your night time routine. You blankly stare at yourself absent-mindedly as you lather lotion on your hands and arms. 

It’s crazy how madly and deeply in love you and Sidney were a week ago. 

You can’t help but reminisce about the reckless night you and Sidney shared. The very night that you think might have led to such a life-altering event. 

“Babe?” you hear Sidney call for you from the bathroom. 

You have just gotten home from an annual fundraising ball that the Pittsburgh Penguins hold to support the foundations it is in partnership with. As the captain, and arguably the face of the franchise, Sidney’s hectic night also meant having to always stand wearing your impractical heels and a smile that has to be genuine enough– but not so much as to come off pretentious and inauthentic. 

While all of the actions you’ve shown were true, it was evident that the pressure to remain perfect was taxing. To say that you were tired would even be an understatement.

You feel a hint of hunger but even that won’t stand against your need for a good night’s sleep. 

As you lazily take off your earrings from one ear to another, you hum as a cue for Sidney to let you know whatever it was that’s going on in his mind. 

“How does this thing work exactly?” 

Baffled about the query, you lay your jewelry pieces flat onto the tray, and aim for the bathroom. You were still wearing the dress that elegantly clothed you for the entire night. It was a dress that Sidney had picked out himself. A dress that he knew would compliment and suit his girl just right. 

The sliding doors of the bathroom were already half-open thereby causing you to see Sidney’s reflection in the mirror; his brows furrowed in total and utter bewilderment. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror once he hears your voice. 

He turns to face your way and in his hand rests what seemed like a tiny, but regular, container of skin moisturizer you have been meaning for him to try. 

“You watch me get ready for bed for years now, honey.” you idly tell him. 

Sidney recognizes the exhaustion in your words, enjoying how your lazy voice register in his ears. He smiles. 

“I don’t want to risk doing it wrong,” he explains. “I looked up this brand on the internet and I must say, it costs a lot for such a tiny bottle.” 

You roll your eyes as you take the product from him. “It costs a lot because it also takes a lot to rescue,” you pause for effect as you playfully point at him, “that face.”

The two of you chuckle softly. Bare feet and about to get unready. 

“Have you washed your face?” you ask him. Sidney nods. 

“Alright. What else have you done?” 

He shrugs, glancing over to his side of the sink. You’ve laid out a few products for him. Some of them he’d already gotten used to and some that he’s still figuring out. Sidney tells you about the few products he has initially applied. 

“Could you please help me?” he asks in that voice he only uses with no one else but you. 

You sigh dreadfully, eyes already closed with how tired you were. You lean your head on his shoulder, mumbling your words. 

“But I’m so sleepy.” you let him know. After having a few seconds of rest, you add, “I haven’t even gotten my makeup off yet.” 

Sidney knows you were beat. Even if he doesn’t tell you, he truly appreciates the great lengths you go for him. You don’t have to do it, but you did it all just the same for as long as it involved Sidney.

“I’ll take it off,” he volunteers. 

“Pfft.” you snicker a foolish laugh. “I bet I can get a goal past you faster than you can learn how to take my makeup off. Properly.”

“Come on,” he says, putting his hands on your waist, giving it a good squeeze. “You got to at least let me try. I know you’re tired.”

You give him a smile but reply in a commanding tone, “Promise you’ll do it like I do?” 

Sidney nods, ready to do after your bidding. “Religiously.” 

Once you agree, you let him gently lift you up the counter next to the sink so as to let you be in a comfortable position. By the looks of it, the odds of you falling asleep were high and Sidney just couldn’t bear letting you stand on your feet after you’ve murdered them with those ridiculously high heels.

“Nooo,” Sidney coos. “Don’t fall asleep.”

With closed eyes, you softly chuckle. “Mkay.”

He glances over to the rack where you keep your nighttime essentials and asks, “What do I do first?”��

Sidney willfully follows every instruction you give him as you patiently guide him throughout the process. His endless musings, in the hopes of keeping you awake, have evidently worked despite your exhausted state. 

You didn’t want to drift off anyway. You were in total bliss feeling his touch; soft with care – delicate. Sidney’s fingers graze onto your skin ever so lightly as he applied every product. He did what he had promised you. He did your nighttime routine religiously. 

His movements were put to a stop. You hear a soft clink of the product onto the tray; a sign that he was through. 

Before you get to open your eyes, Sidney leans towards you. He then lightly pressed his lips against yours so as to give you a peck. 

He plants a couple more before he eventually breaks away. 

“Done.” He says enthusiastically, seeing you with a wide smile on your face.

“Yeah?” you briefly open your eyes, Sidney coming into full view. You see him half-naked with only his pajama bottoms on. His chest was rose-colored; perfectly in contrast with the shade of his stubble.

You take a quick glance at yourself in the mirror so you could get a peak of what he’s done. Huh. Pretty good. 

You turn your head back and face him wearing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Like it?” he asks. “How did I do?” 

“You did fine.” you kid. 

Sidney pretends to be appalled. “Fine? Just fine?” 

“Uh-huh.” you tease. “Not bad for a first timer.”

“A’right.” he says with a smirk. “I know I could’ve done a lot worse than a ‘not bad’ so I’ll take it.”

“I’m just playing with you.” you tell him. “You did a good job.”

You open your arms, asking for a hug. Obligingly, he leans in and lets you wrap your arms around his nape. Your hands then found their way onto his face. Your fingers graze over rough stubble just as your eyes meet Sidney’s. 

With your thumb landing on his lips, you gently pull Sidney’s face closer so you could lock him in a kiss. Gentle and sweet. Passionate despite being done swiftly. You feel each other’s warmth– with your mouth and your bodies pressed so close together. 

Once the two of you break away, you say, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

His left hand removes some errant strands that lazily fashioned the side of your face. The other makes its way on the small of your back, pulling you even closer. 

Before the two of you dive into another kiss, Sidney says, “Thank you for letting me.”

𖥸

When Sidney asked you to move in with him, the first thing he did was to start a major renovation of his home. You were not a fan of it because of the obvious reason; it was unnecessary. But alas, Sidney had his ways. He told you it was not just his home anymore. It was yours. “Ours.” was what he said. 

It didn’t matter where the two of you were. Sidney had countless away games and series, and you had your fair share of business meetings on your end. But no matter where the two of you were, regardless of being away, your togetherness was kept by the home you have built with him. After all, Sidney’s home was just a massive block of building situated on acres and acres of land, standing still and lonely. 

Then came you. 

He stripped his home clean when you moved in. Little by little, you were able to incorporate yourself into his home. You had a say in every change; what has to go and what can stay. What paint colors to use and what kind of furniture he should get. Sidney did nothing but say "yes" the entire time. He wanted you to feel at home as much as he did. Neither the place nor the big still and lonely building did matter because he had you. For Sidney, you were home.

From the gorgeous outdoor landscape, classic hardwood floors, to high and white ceilings, Sidney wanted every corner of his home – inside and out, to have a touch of you. Only you. 

It was his futile attempt at a romantic gesture. He wanted to be reminded of you each time he was in it. Because just like what he said, no matter what happens, wherever he may be, you were the person he knew he’s always going to come home to. 

Looking back, it hasn’t occurred to you just how high and white the ceilings were. How distant everything seemed. Without Sidney, all of it seemed dull and ordinary. You just did not realize it until you spent the last several hours staring at that boring ceiling, lying in an all too cold bed that has seen the best and the worst of you and Sidney.

In spite of your still heavy and tired eyes due to all the crying, you find yourself reaching for your phone yet again. Maybe this time you’d get an answer.

“Please pick up.” you utter as you try to numb yourself with the endless ringing of the line. It was getting really late. Even with what happened earlier, you still wanted to hear his voice. That way you’d know he was okay. That way you’d know he was coming home. 

With time feeling like eternity, you managed to give it some thought. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe he was right. You did attack him; one way or another. You could have told him some other time when it felt right or when neither of you were tired. Maybe that way, he could have reacted differently. 

The weight you feel in your chest must have been incomparable to how he felt. It came to him unsuspectedly. The least you could have done was lay it all down easy. But no, you chose to put him in a difficult position where he has to choose between his present and the future. An ambush that was undeniably uncalled for.

Maybe, at some point, you forgot Sidney had a life where you didn’t belong. Maybe that was where you went wrong. Sidney had a life. You made him yours. 

Your hand travels down to your stomach so as to remind you of what life already is – what life will be. Sidney knew you were carrying his child and the first thing he did was leave. For somebody else, it would have been their cue to go. But here you were, instead of feeling all the right things you should be feeling, still waiting for him. 

If your calculations were right, it was another hour before Sidney finally came home. You turned away from the bedroom door and pretended to be asleep. He was quiet but his presence said otherwise. There wasn’t much movement being that Sidney was stoned at the door looking across the room. Looking at you. 

Out of all the years that the two of you have spent together, this was the first time he actually did not feel like coming home. 

Instead of the comfort he’s always felt each time he opened the door to your shared bedroom, Sidney felt unsure. It was as if he almost did not want to come home at all. Because you, who once brought him peace, was the very person who handed onto him a havoc served on a silver plate. 

Sidney no longer minded the fact that he knew you waited for him. He knew you were still awake yet the first thing he chose to do was head towards the bathroom. The clear cut sound of the door coming to a close sends shivers down your spine. You try blinking it away, but the tears just start coming. 

When the bathroom door opens, you squeeze your eyes shut knowing what’s to come next. It was a while before Sidney decided to come to bed. You feel it shift with the weight of having Sidney in it. 

Normally, his arms would magically snake its way to your body and lock you in an embrace. That was the only way for Sidney to get a comfortable sleep. Now, he stares at the ceiling for a good minute or so before he shifts and looks at the back of your head. 

He did not want to say a thing though he felt like he needed to. 

It was wrong for him to feel this way. He knew that. But now that he’s conflicted, Sidney knows he’s going to have to give himself some time. Perhaps, even some time away. From this house. From you.

He takes a deep breath; long but subtle. The one you make when you’re trying to calm yourself before diving off a cliff. Sidney wishes he could come out of his. To be able to swim back to his surface. Because as hard as it was to admit, you were drowning him. 

“Will you ever change your mind?” he breaks the ice and asks. 

Despite being nervous to what his answer might be, you return the question. 

“Will you change yours?”

He doesn’t say a word. And with that, you knew Sidney’s silence was his answer. 

You do the same. 

Though there was something he did want to let you know. 

I don’t want to have to lose you. 

But instead, he says, “I don’t want to lose you.”

You stifle a sob as a tear meets your pillow. 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer not because you didn’t want to. You didn’t answer because you were afraid that you couldn’t think of any. 

You hate to think you’d have to lose one another over the very thing that was supposed to make the two of you whole. The truth is, you were scared about so many things. You just didn’t know you’d have to be scared about losing Sidney. 

𖥸

A few days have passed since you and Sidney got to talking. It was barely one being that all you’ve done was fight. It was already more than just an argument and time has been nothing but cruel in letting you know that the sudden change you see in him now is his way of telling you that the both of you are not and will never be on the same page. 

Sidney chose to drown himself more in his Summer commitments. The last thing you heard he was off signing brand deals and staying a lot longer at the club. Now, while he’s busy playing in between putts and pucks, you’ve gone to another appointment and have been taking good care of yourself and your baby to the best of your abilities. 

You were at the task of putting away the lillies you have bought on your way home when you hear Sidney’s car enter the driveway. It would not be long before he opens the door. You have not really thought of what to say to him. As much as you try to understand where he’s coming from, you badly hope he does the same thing to you and simply honor what’s already on the table. 

The sound of keys being tossed onto the bowl rings throughout the hallway; commencing Sidney’s arrival. You see him enter the room in his usual golfing attire, lugging his equipment behind him. 

You have not felt the thick air of uncertainty for a while and you realize it was because he was not around. You offer him a tight-lipped smile once you meet his eyes. 

“Hey, you.” you call for him in a tone that lets him know you were open to talk should he want to discuss things with you. 

Sidney declines your invitation through his own, “Hi.” 

You feel a pang in your chest so you try and make up for it by putting the rest of the mess sitting on the island away. Sidney, on the other hand, sees what you’re trying to do. Nevertheless, he ignores it. Instead, he makes his way around you, heading towards the fridge to get a drink. 

You give up.

“Is this really how you want things to be when you come home?” you ask.

Sidney sighs, letting your words sit in the air. He lets the sound of the water hitting the glass mock you as an answer. You watch him drink its entirety with a stern face, unbothered to even look you in the eye.

A month ago you can’t even picture him behaving like this. Time is fickle, so they say. But it is just as unpredictable and brutal. 

“Sid,” you call, failing to mask the sound of your voice nearly breaking. Of course, you were desperate to have a decent conversation with him. You miss him. And even though you know you would not change your mind anymore, the best thing you can do is to at least have the chance to change his. 

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” you reach for his hand to hold it. 

For a moment, you see his eyes soften. He looks down on your hands. You were scared that he was going to dismiss you but much to your relief, Sidney held your hand instead. He tenderly rubbed the back of your hand whilst he tried to find the words to utter. 

This was one of the things you miss. Sidney’s touch. He’s always had a way with it. Nothing really mattered for as long as Sidney held you. You felt so secure – safe from anything that may come your way. For as long as you were with Sidney, you needn’t have to feel scared. 

Just when you feel a sliver of hope, you see a somber expression in his face the moment you look back at him. 

“I don’t have anything new to say.” he nearly apologizes. 

Disappointment now printed all over yours, you choose to let him know of what kept you busy. 

“I went to Claire and got a sonogram.” you tell him, forcing out a smile. 

You opted not to get one the first time despite Claire’s advice. You wanted to have Sidney with you in that room. But now, it was painfully clear that it might never happen. Not to mention the fact that his child is continuing to grow regardless of what he had to say about it. 

Sidney gladly lets your hand go so as to caress his nape. When he falls silent, you continue nonetheless.

“The baby is healthy.” you add.

Shrugging the latter off, he asks, “What about you?”

He still cared about you. At least that was there. 

Is it really too much to wish he’d feel the same way for his child?

“I’m fine.” you answer, uninterested with your own well-being.

Sidney says nothing else but nods, dismissing whatever you still have to say concerning his unborn child. 

“Won’t you at least see it?” you try for yet another time. 

Sidney’s jaw clenches but he chooses to let it go. He didn’t come home to fight. 

He pays you a meaningful look, devoid of the fact that the said sonogram was already pinned on the fridge along with a few old polaroids that the two of you intentionally kept for each other’s sake. 

“I told you, I don’t have anything new to say.” he repeats himself. “And I still won’t even if I see it.” 

It was clear that the two of you were trying to make ends meet. But Sidney was not trying hard enough.

“Then what are we doing here?” 

You were offended, of course. You were utterly hurt by his appalling insensitiveness. Sidney did not give even an inch of care but that shouldn’t justify acting too much of an ass about it.

“Am I supposed to wait for you to change your mind before I continue carrying your child?” you continue, “I’m pretty sure pregnancy doesn’t work that way, Sid.”

Do you take him for a fool? He thinks. 

You touched a nerve, causing Sidney to lose himself again. 

“Who even told you I wanted one?” he retorted. 

What does he think would happen after sex? A gala? A dinner party?

You need not stress on the obvious. Besides, doing so would just take you miles down the surface you’ve barely even scratched. Dealing with a closed-minded Sidney and piling on his share of negativity would just be counterproductive. 

“I’m not changing my mind, Sidney.” you firmly state.

The time Sidney was gone did not make you want the things he wanted. It just made you certain – so sure, that you want nothing else but this baby. And you know there was no other way out. 

“Are you with me on this or not?” 

He scoffs at the thought of you making him choose. 

“You’d really go that far, wouldn’t you?” 

“That far?” you scorn.

“Sidney, that ‘far’ we happened to be discussing right now, is a life together!” you stress, pointing a finger at his chest. “So, yes. I am willing to go that far.”

Sidney could not find the words to save his own cause. But regardless of the problem he still hopes you can set aside, he knows that you will eventually come to your senses and choose the life that you were already living with him.

However, the wounds were barely even healed and here you were, deciding to pick at it again.

“I told you to come back only when you’re ready to be an adult about this and face it with me.” you order. “I don’t need you starting a fight because you know I will never change my mind.”

“Well, you know what? Neither will I.” Sidney shakes his head, adamant to bow down in favor of your will. 

“There. I said it.” he adds, thinking of the night you told him about your pregnancy. 

He sees your eyes watering and he knew it would be enough for you to pull him back in. But this wasn’t like the other times. You wanted different things and he did too. Maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe it isn’t worth prolonging what has clearly ended.

“You’re right.” he says, “I shouldn’t have come home in the first place.”

Suffice it to say that he did not deserve to feel half of what you have been feeling, you hold him back once he starts retreating.

“W-Where are you going?” 

“Geno’s.” He shortly answers. “I cannot be on board with something you chose to decide all on your own.”

You fall silent as it was not the response you were expecting, especially not from Sidney. So instead of speaking for you and his unborn child, you watch him leave once again. 

𖥸

Sidney made sure he was kept preoccupied for a reason. It was evident that you were making him choose. And despite him denying, he is certain that regardless of the path he’d be taking, you’ll choose to have the baby and leave the life you have already built with him. 

He hated the possibility that you might leave him for something that was unplanned. Something that could have been prevented by a birth control shot. But no, it didn’t. It frustrates him that you won’t take the only ‘out’ he’s got to offer. It frustrates him even more to know that regardless of your choice, he just could not see himself being tied up to a commitment he knows he will never want.

Yes, he may have wanted and hoped for a life with you but that was it. Only you. He did not need anything more. On top of it all, he’s scared. He’s scared because he knows that he almost hated you for it. 

You have reached an impasse and you and Sidney both know it. It was just a matter of who’s going to be the one to break it to the other. He doesn’t want to be the one to do so, hence why he chose to leave. 

Sidney was a man that loved calculation. Everything had to be precise. Otherwise meant having to give a shot at failure. That was how he felt for the majority of his career. He did excel at school but it did not challenge him. It took less energy and made him less driven. He wanted to acquire so much and be so much more within so little time. Wishful thinking and ambitions aside, he made everything he wanted happen. 

He just wishes he could figure this one out before it’s too late. 

Geno had his feet up on the couch, hands were glued on the game controller, yelling at the TV. It was another game that he had one of Anna’s nephews teach him. He had nothing to do for the entire day and he was a firm believer that wasting time was not really wasted – only if you make it count. 

The count, if you dare ask, was a 2-4 game versus some kid on the internet. N8Dawg29.

Geno’s shouting at the TV was put to a stop when the doorbell rang. 

“Lucky bastard.” he says, throwing the controller elsewhere. 

Given the moment’s notice, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He had no idea who it was at the other side of the door. By the time he opens it, Sidney’s face comes into view. 

“Sid!” he says his name with a giant smile on his face. The very same smile that was washed away by the look Sidney had on his. Lost. 

What brings you here? was what he wanted to ask. But given the way his friend looked, it was apparent that something big was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” 

Concern traveled to Geno’s eyes when Sidney spoke of your name as an answer. 

“Is she alright?” he asks him, opening the doors of his home wide for Sidney. 

Sidney looks him in the eye and says, “She’s pregnant.”

As the brand new information hit him, Geno begins to realize that such news might not have been well-received by Sidney. 

Uncomfortable and panicking as to how he’d make light of the situation, Geno asks, “Who’s the father?”

𖥸

Geno knew he needed reinforcement. N8Dawg29 would have to wait. 

No, it wasn’t because Geno was losing. It was because he had more important things to tend to. Let him leave it at that.

Two crystal clear snifter glasses were pinched in between his fingers whilst his other hand held a bottle of premium scotch. He takes long strides across the room, making his way towards the lesser halves of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ three-headed monster. 

The Captain had just broken the news to Kris, but unlike Geno, the defenseman took his time before sharing his two cents. Sidney spared no detail as to what happened. The truth that he didn’t want a baby, and the ugly truth that you did. 

Just like how he looked in front of Geno, the expression on Sidney’s face was more than enough for Kris to deduce that congratulations weren’t in order. Despite him being happy to learn about your pregnancy, Kris just couldn’t let Sidney feel as though his feelings were invalid. 

Quietly, whilst the biggest names of the team sat together, the weight of the elephant in the room was still borne solely by the team’s captain. Once each of them was able to take a sip from their respective glasses, it was Kris’ turn to ask a question. 

“Does she really intend to keep the baby?” 

Sidney nods as the alcohol runs down his throat. 

“Actually, she made me choose,” he says. “–said she’d do it with or without me.”

“Are you going to let her?” 

Sid meets Kris’ eyes, “What would you have me do?”

Kris takes a deep breath, conflicted as to whether he was in the position to say what’s in his mind. “You know it really doesn’t matter what I think. It is still your decision.” 

“Of course, it matters.” Sidney counters. You’re a father. He wanted to add.

“What is it that you want to hear from me?” 

“Just hit me. Tell me how you feel. I can handle it.” 

“All right,” Kris puts down his glass thereafter clasping his hands. “Are you a hundred percent sure that you don’t want to be a Dad?” 

Sidney finds it hard to answer. But he knows it wasn’t because there may be a slight chance that he would eventually want to be one. It was mainly because he knew saying it out loud would paint him in a bad light. He can’t afford to look selfish in front of his friends.

Kris questions, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t pictured yourself with a child? Ever?” 

“Of course, I have. It’s just– I don’t want to have one now.” Sidney feels like a fool for saying it out loud. “You know I love kids. I have always been great with them. You know how I am with Alex, right?” 

Sidney looks at Geno once he speaks but all Geno did was avoid his gaze. Even he didn’t favor how Sidney had to bring up his godson as an example.

Instead, Geno asks, “Then what is the problem?” 

“I don’t think I can be a good father. I’m afraid I’d screw it up.” Sidney fiddles with his fingers. 

“How can you be so sure you won’t be a good father?” 

Sidney sighs, “How did you know?”

“No one knows they’re going to be a kick-ass Dad until they become one.” Kris says. “I couldn’t even figure out how diapers work the first time I had to do it, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be a good Dad.”

Sidney runs a hand through his naked hair. “Maybe that’s it.” 

Kris’ eyebrows furrow, waiting for Sidney to continue. 

“How can I be good at something I don’t even want to become?” He looks at both of his greatest friends. 

He continues. “It’s different with you and Catherine, Kris. You both wanted Alex. You both wanted kids. I’m not quite sure I can even begin to like the idea of having my own and yet, here it is – already tearing me and Y/N apart.”

Kris takes a deep breath. 

With his words subtly laced with judgment, he says, “There is only one thing you can do.” 

“What?” Sidney raises a brow.

“You have to let her go.” Kris continued. “Even if it means she’d have to do it alone.” 

Kris respects Sidney for not wanting to have a child. He knows he’d have to understand where Sidney’s at in life. If he says he’s not ready to father a child, then so be it. But that does not give him a pass on being a selfish prick who he’d still have to understand in exchange for you and your unborn child’s sake. You were as important as Sidney is to Kris. He wouldn’t simply allow Sidney to take everything he could while you empty yourself for him. 

Sidney asks yet another appalling query. 

“Do you really think she’d choose it over me?” 

Kris answers with a knowing look on his face, “Any responsible adult would choose a baby over you, Sidney.” 

“Kris,” Geno puts his glass down, interfering. 

“What does that supposed to mean?” Sidney takes offense.

“What did you expect me to say, anyway? Did you come here expecting I will coddle you? That Geno and I will help you be this irresponsible?” Kris tells him off, switching glances between the two of them.

Geno calls him in a definitive tone. “Tanger, stop.” 

“No,” he stressed. “The two of you came to my house asking for my help. Here it is. I am a father. It’s one thing to feel unready for such an immense responsibility. I get that. But, it seems to me that you’re seeing this predicament as a game you just have to win no matter what. That kid isn’t even born yet and here you are, antagonizing him for breaking your relationship. That is your child, Sidney. Your child with the woman you claim to love. Even if you don’t want it, the least you could do is acknowledge that it’s here. It’s not just a thing you have to tolerate.” 

Sidney and Geno fall silent. 

Kris gathers himself and stands, aiming to leave the room. 

“Let her go, Sidney.” he recapitulates. “You know you’re not the person she needs right now.”

𖥸

Three days have gone since Sidney left home. You haven’t gotten enough sleep since then. You’ve tried busying yourself tending to some house chores but none of it sufficed. Tiring yourself did not help in your pursuit to keep your mind from thinking of him.

As much as you wanted to, regardless of your doctor’s orders, you just can’t function bearing a magnitude as heavy as the one you’re facing with Sidney, hanging over your head. Here you are, barely functioning through a day, how could you possibly picture a life without him in it? It seems as though the past is now a blur. But then again, so is your future. 

“Hey,” Cath’s voice soothes you from the other end of the line. “How are you?”

You almost forgot that you were on a call with Catherine. 

Dissociated, you answer, “I’m… I’m doing okay.” 

“Are you sure?” she asks for the hundredth time. 

For the past three days, you’ve always answered that you were. Perhaps, it was for you to save face in the hopes of seeing Sidney again. 

“No.” you finally admit despite Catherine already knowing, “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” she says. 

It seems as though she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. Sidney, apart from staying with the Malkin’s has gotten the liking of dropping by her house to see her husband. It had been a day since the first time they had talked about you. Catherine knew little of it but she knew Kris didn’t exactly agree with whatever Sidney had told him. 

Finally, she lets out a sigh, “Listen, Sidney’s here.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name. With a glint of hope in your voice, you ask to confirm. “He is? How is he?”

“Well, to be honest, not good.”

You find comfort at the thought. You might still have a relationship worth saving. 

“Do you want to speak with him? I can–” Catherine offers but you’re quick to decline. Maybe some time to himself will do you both good. 

“No don’t, Cath. Really, it’s fine.” you say with a sad smile. “Knowing that he’s there is enough.”

Silence sits on the line for a moment. You have always waited for Sidney to come home for the majority of your entire relationship. It didn’t matter if he was gone for days or even more than a week; he came home every time. That thought alone made the wait bearable. Now, the uncertainty of it all just makes the wait longer because unlike before, you’re no longer sure he’ll be coming home. 

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Cath pulls you back from your thoughts. The truth is, you haven’t. 

“Have you been eating? What about your medications? Are you taking them?”

“Well, yeah. I am. I am taking them.” Sometimes on an empty stomach. Sometimes you miss it by an hour or two. 

“Have you slept at all today?” 

“I… Not really. I haven’t been sleeping well. There’s a lot going on in my mind.” you say as your eyes flicker to your surroundings. You then realize that the chaos in your mind has begun to translate into your home. Your sight eventually falls onto the load of dishes you’ve yet to tend to and others already cleaned waiting to be put away. 

“I know. But you need to take it easy.” she reminds you. Catherine has a point. 

“Please take care of yourself, Y/N.” you hear her sigh. “Your baby needs you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” you earnestly tell her, adding that Claire’s stopping by in an hour or two. “A friend is coming over to keep me company tonight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

However, just as you stand whilst talking, you feel a sudden surge of sharp pain in your abdomen. 

You find yourself holding your lower stomach, unsure if it was something to be concerned about. Claire has informed you about the minor discomforts you were inevitably going to feel as your body adjusts to being pregnant, but was it supposed to hurt this much? 

Catherine calls your name when you failed to answer. 

“Yeah?” 

You start to walk, aiming towards the kitchen. Your palm rests on your abdomen in an attempt to relieve yourself of the pain you were still feeling. 

You hold the phone with a bit more pressure, you hear Cath ask, “How are you really? You know you can tell me stuff. I know it must have been tough having to deal with Sid.” 

You sigh in an effort to alleviate the pain. Your eyes begin to water by the mention of his name. It has been tough for you. If Cath could see it, how come Sidney couldn’t?

“I miss him, Catherine.” 

“I know you do.” she replies sympathetically.  “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know.” you reply as your breath becomes labored. “Just– , please tell him to come home.”

You shut your eyes, pressing on your stomach once you reached the counter. 

“We need him.”

𖥸

Was Kris right? Sidney was deep in thought as the paddle hit the ball from one end of the table to another. Geno hits it right back. Sidney does the same. They go on and on uttering no words but mere sighs and labored breathing as they play the game of table tennis. 

Even if Kris was right, he knew it was still going to be Sidney’s decision. If you yourself could not convince him of the life he so clearly does not want, what makes Kris think he can do otherwise?

Despite the heated conversation, Sidney was still thankful Kris had a gym in his basement. He needed to clear his mind; something Geno understood. Sidney rarely gets upset, but most of the times he did, it was for the right reasons. Now, however, Geno wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking, Sid?” Geno asks as he recovers after missing the ball. 

Through his still labored breathing, Sidney puts the paddle down and briefly looks at him. He shakes his head, not devoid of a single thought - but overwhelmed by millions of it concerning: you. 

When he doesn’t hear a word from Sidney, he finally asks, “It’s been three days. Don’t you want to come home?” 

Sid plays it off with a grin, “Why? You’re getting sick of me?”

Geno rolls his eyes, “Yes, what are you gonna do about it?”

The two of them share a brief laugh, trying to lighten the weight bore by the topic of you. 

“I don’t know, man.” This time, Sidney tells him the truth. He does not know. He had hoped to know by being away from you. But if asked the same question of whether he wants the life that you do, he still has the same answer. 

Before he can say another word, Geno speaks as if he read Sidney’s mind.

“If it’s not entirely a yes, it’s a no, Sid.” he tells him. “You’ve got only two ways out of this. To stay or to leave.”

Sidney’s taken aback. 

To stay would mean to live a life off his books; blind and unplanned. He’d be traversing an environment completely foreign and unknown. To have a child of his own. To have a family. Forever. 

And on the other, to leave would mean to accept the gut-wrenching picture of a life without you; to embrace it through and through. And maybe hope that someday, it will eventually get easier. 

Before Sidney could even answer, the Letangs came rushing into the room. 

“We gotta go,” Kris announces with urgency, the key to his car already in his hand. 

Sidney’s eyes fall onto a frantic Catherine who was clutching onto her phone - voice trembling as she says, “It’s Y/N.”

𖥸

Sidney has never feared anything in his life. Between having to leave home at such a young age and thereafter fighting the horrible concussions that cost him almost fifty games off of his career, he has never felt as frightened as he did when it was you who was already on the line. He admits that he was not in the right mind to deal with what you have told him, but the fear of losing you was so insurmountable that it made being a father seem less terrifying than he could have possibly imagined. 

“Where is she?” 

“Is she okay?”

“Have you seen Claire?”

Wanting to breathe became obsolete once Sidney chose to speak all aforementioned. He held Cath’s shoulder, almost shaking her, in an attempt to get an answer. 

“Claire took care of everything. She’s fine.” she says, relaying what Claire had told her. 

He lets go a sigh of relief. He runs his fingers through his evidently unkempt hair – and asks, “What about the baby?”

If the record was right, it was the first time he’s ever asked about your baby. 

Despite how Cath felt about Sidney, she did not simply have the answer.

Worriedly, he walks past her and looks through the small window of the lounge door. He sees a handful of people, mostly visitors. Sure – there were doctors going from one side of the room to the other wearing their coats and clipboards in hand, talking. Always talking. Giving out information, whether well-received or heart piercing. It was a whole ‘nother job that seemed so ordinary. A whole lot more than what is perceived.

Sidney wanted to go to you. He wanted to find you. But how can he do that if doing so would mean causing more risks than he’s already had? Because even if it was the least of his worries, Sidney could not possibly handle more attention from the crowd. 

It was exactly the ugliness you had to bear being with Sidney. Being with him meant having to consider who he was inside and outside of the rink; that your personal life is inevitably tangled with the one he had with his skates on. There was no double life with Sidney. He has successfully integrated the two so he gets to live both. As for you, you were the tide that went along with it — the tide that kept his boat afloat. 

𖥸

Claire hoped she wouldn’t be spending the night in the hospital. But then came you. 

She was glad she still had the spare key you’ve given her to your home. Between scrambling to find it amidst her million other keys and finding you sitting on the cold floor of the kitchen, holding your stomach, with blood apparent in your clothing, Claire was just glad that she got to you the soonest you needed her to. 

“My baby–” was the first thing you told her as you tried speaking in between sobs. 

You looked at her, tears running down your cheeks, once she had approached you. 

“It’s alright. I got you. I got you.” she repeatedly told you. 

Her eyes fell onto where your hand was. Truth be told, she has never been this scared in her life. It was crazy how she simultaneously knew and didn’t know what to do. It was you. Your safety and the life of the child you’ve yet to birth, placed unexpectedly in her hands. Despite all that, she was certain that she’s not about to lose anyone. Neither you nor your baby. 

“Please don’t pass out.” she murmured more to herself as she held your face. “Stay with me, alright? You guys are gonna be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Claire stayed true to her word and took care of you. You were settled in a private room, resting. It was evident that all the emotional and physical turmoil you’ve been trying to suppress has finally caught on and got the better hold of you. Scarily so, despite the night’s ordeal, you were now safe. You and the baby. 

You were asleep when Claire left you in your hospital room. She still has a few of your documents that needed sorting out. Well, that and having to deal with the man – with both of his hands placed on his waist, pacing – waiting for her at the end of the lobby. 

“How is she?” Sidney asks Claire the moment he was within hearing distance. 

She ignores him. Instead, she goes inside the waiting room and acknowledges the presence of Catherine alongside Kris and Evgeni. 

“How is she?” Catherine shoots the same question. 

Claire initially answers with a nod then proceeds, “She’s going to be fine. We just need to let her get some rest.” 

Cath nods as well as the others. 

“And the baby?” 

Claire doesn’t give a definite answer. 

“We’re still waiting for several results.” 

“W-Why?” Sidney jumps in the conversation. “Did something happen to the baby?” 

Unfortunately, as much as Claire wanted to hit Sidney’s face, she couldn’t. She wasn’t in the hospital just because she’s your friend. Simply put, duty calls. And right now, Sidney demands her of it. 

“I am not at liberty to disclose anything at the moment, but I assure you, we are doing the best we can.” she tells Sidney despite not meeting his eyes. 

“Will you at least let me see her?” He pleads.

“I don’t think so.” she states firmly.

“What– Why?” Sidney asks quite defensively. “I am her emergency contact person!”

“No, you are not.” she informs him. “You cannot see her files because you are no longer her emergency contact person. I am now. You are neither her next of kin nor are you married. And if you are present as any partner should have, you would know.” 

Sidney scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

“You are not my patient, Sid. I am in no way responsible for disclosing information Y/N clearly doesn’t want to share with you.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Sidney complains.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Claire tells him. 

“I can’t believe how unprofessional you can be!” Sidney exclaims when Claire continues to ignore his requests. 

“No,” She looks at him for a moment, gets back to reading your form on her clipboard, and meets Sid’s eyes once again. “It’s the consequences.” 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

The Letangs come in between the two to mitigate the tension, “We’ll just wait for as long as we need to.”

“Why? What’s the plan, Sid? Huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? To spend your years like Jagr?”

“Don’t you fucking go there.” He warns.

Even more appalled by Sidney’s reaction, Claire grins and shrugs shamelessly before walking away.

“I think I just did.”

𖥸

Sidney did not exactly know how he did it and how fast he had done it, but as soon as Claire had her hands full, he went straight to grab the brass metal of the door knob leading to your room. 

Quietly, as he spared one last glance of his surroundings, he turns it and opens the door. 

It was a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Sidney could not fully comprehend the things wrecking his brain all at once. Although he knew of one thing: he finally gets to see you. 

Your mind drifts right off the tip of your finger as you look outside your window. The fog was so even and misty that it made the entire window a blur. The only thing you could see were the steady white lights of that huge corner block building fashioned by the noise of cars driving off to a better place than the four corners of your hospital bedroom. 

Judging by the scenery, you could tell that it was well past midnight. 

As you lie with your still aching heart, you find yourself grazing your stomach ever so gently as if you were holding something– someone, much more meaningful than your entire being. 

If only he was– 

“Hey.” 

He is. 

Sidney had both of his hands resting on his side alienated by the thick air he usually causes. It was a battle as to whether to go near you or stay still. But judging by the way you looked at him so strangely, he knew he didn’t have any other choice. 

You watch him inch himself closer until he is already at the foot of the bed. He looked unusually small for a man of his stature. Your eyes did not miss a thing. You saw the hesitant look he had coupled with the urgency that is perhaps all too late to be paraded before your eyes. 

Despite noticing all that, in Sidney’s eyes, you did nothing but look. He was scared not because it made him uneasy. He was scared because you have never looked at him that way. 

There are so many things to be said but Sidney was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask how you were; how the baby was. He wanted to say how sorry he felt for leaving and how dumb it was to let you suffer when he could’ve been there like he should have. He wanted to let you know how badly he prays and hopes that you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him. But mostly, he just really wished that you’d still want to make it work and build that family – with him. 

How could he say all that when it feels like you were miles away beyond his reach despite him already holding your hand? 

Finally, as though the words have only occurred to him, he asks, “How are you?” 

He looks back at you as intently as he thought you did. However, your eyes mirrored his, unwillingly. Sidney takes the empty seat beside your bed; never letting go of his hold on you. 

Soon enough, you look away and aim your attention onto his hands. Both of his palms embraced your hand oh so desperately, pleading a prayer only he could hear. 

“I’m sorry.” he says, eyes now misty with tears. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve been with you. I’m sorry. I was selfish. Please please forgive me.” he adds, pressing wet and much more desperate kisses on your hand. 

He waited for you to say something in return but he received nothing. You looked at him exactly the way you did when he arrived; sparing him a blink or two whenever your eyes got tired.

It was the kind of silence Sidney wasn’t accustomed to. It was the kind of silence he never knew. 

Until now. Until you.

His voice breaks when he decides to speak yet again. 

“Please say something.” he desperately asks. 

But you don’t. 

You just lie in the same cold bed, letting him hold your hand. 

Afraid of what has become you, Sidney masks his fear with a wide smile albeit it didn’t do any better. It just made him feel worse. Maybe even a thousand times more than he’s already had. 

“Mon amour…” he calls you. “Please talk to me.”

You blink and look away. 

Sorrow now filling the void he feels from within, Sidney sees your hand that was still resting atop your stomach. 

For the first time, he then dared to ask, “How… How's the baby?” 

Sidney sees you look at him yet again as if to finally acknowledge his presence in the room. 

However, the words you spoke next nearly made him wish you did not bother at all. 

“There is no baby, Sidney.”

You spit the words like vile coursing from your throat; voice hoarse from the eventful night. 

“W-What?” he stammers, evidently shocked at your uninhibited way of revealing such news. 

“There is no baby.” you repeat just as you remove your hand from his hold. 

“You may go.” you quietly add, looking away. 

Confused, off-guard, and terrified, Sidney tries to grasp the thought of the truth. 

“What do you mean there is no baby?” Sidney begins to flood you with queries. “They must have read the tests wrong. It can’t be right, can it? Claire told Cathy everything was fine! We do have a baby!” he nearly grovels trying to get a hold of you, pleading. 

“We have a baby, y/n.” He breaks. “We’re going to be a family.”

Oh you’d kill to have him say those words when you needed him to. Only he didn’t. And that is the truth you’re now choosing. 

“I need you to go, Sidney.” you respond calmly, frustrating him even more. 

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “What happened to our baby?” 

“It’s gone, alright!” you lose it just as Sidney’s world begins to crumble, “You got what you wanted!”

You blink away the tears about to break just as you say, “I need you to go because I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“No– There’s got to be another way for us. We always find a way.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Sidney.” you reiterate. “I don’t think we should be together.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me,” he argues. “Just be mad at me, y/n!” 

He grabs your hand and places it close to his cheek. You can feel the tears on his skin and his desperate cry to escape the inevitable. 

You look at him with the same fondness you once had. The last he’ll ever see. 

“It’s over, Sid.” you declare. “I don’t want this– I don’t want to be with you.”

“Y/N… please,” he says. “I’m begging you.” 

“Leave, Sidney.” you reach for the red button on the side of your bed, hoping to get Claire. 

Sidney’s tears continue to fall. But you no longer care. 

“I can’t do this without you.” he says in between sobs. 

You press the red button repeatedly. You wipe your tears away wishing Claire would get to you faster. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor; a complete mess. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Before you can push him further away, the door to your room abruptly opens; Kris and Geno come into view. 

With a firm yet cautious voice, Geno calls him. “Sidney.” 

Kris puts an arm over Sidney’s shoulder, “Let her get some rest.”

“Y/N–” Sidney calls for you once more; bearing with him the thought of losing his son and his son’s mother. The family you wanted a little too early. The family he wanted a little too late. The painful truth that Sidney chose to carry with him for years however ugly and cruel you made it to be just so he can still make it seem real. 

If only he knew.

series taglist: to be reblogged! [tumblr crashes a lot and won't let me post smh]

note: woooow been a hot min! how's everyone? i hope you liked this long over-due update i'm so sorry life got in the way for a bit. anw, you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think love ya! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

[hopeslastkiss]

kicking my feet and twirling my hair thinking about it and i love the juxtapositions you can draw between solavellan and solrook.

with my solavellan, it's a slow steady walk towards each other over years. Solas willingly leaves the tower he's been hiding himself in, drawn out by the beacon of curiosity, kindness, and quiet strength that is Lavellan. the torment that she is real is worth the joy. she makes his spirit sing and reminds him of the being he used to be, the being he should have been if none of it had ever happened. not with regret about his choices, but with hope that he can reclaim himself. he is tortured by the possibility there is another way. his resolve gradually weakens until it's hanging by a thread and he has to cling to it with everything he has.

with my solrook, an un-romanced Solas hasn't faltered a single step when they first confront each other. over a few short months, the dream connection has Rook laying siege with their confidence and flair and righteous anger against the walls he has built. Rook is both a thorn in his side and a diverting weapon, unwanted but useful. their drive to succeed is matched only by his. they carve into him relentlessly and study his strengths and weaknesses until they know him better than anyone else alive. they remind him, not of his spirit like Lavellan does, but of the Dread Wolf. the trickster that spent a millennium chipping away at the foundations of the evanuris and enjoyed it. his resolve is only strengthened by a new opponent. he cannot be saved, only stopped.

[lady-of-blossoms]

THE TALE OF LOVE

From this poll

Synopsis: Nanami and Y/N haven been married for 16 years now, over the last few months Nanami had been going out drinking with his co-workers and one night…it goes to hell.

WC: 1k

Content warning: abuse, alchol addiction, marriage failure and a very mean Nanami.

A/N: sorry if this was very late posted, I’m sorry!, and I’m sorry if it seemed weird or a little short

In the inviting warmth of a quiet suburban neighborhood, where children played in front yards and couples strolled hand in hand, lived Nanami and Y/N. Their union, forged over 16 years, was often seen as enviable by those around them. Nanami, a dedicated husband, wore the mantle of responsibility with grace and commitment. Y/N, equally devoted, made a home filled with laughter and kindness. But beneath the perfect surface of this fairytale marriage lay the cracks of a more insidious truth.

Nanami had been the perfect husband for 16 years: steadfast, career-oriented, and attentive to his relationship with Y/N. He was the kind of man who brought flowers home for no reason, who remembered their anniversary without reminding. Their life together had been filled with delicious dinners, soft whispers, and shared dreams. But as the years wore on, the daily grind started to take its toll. The stresses of work, the urge to provide, overshadowed the foundational love that once defined their relationship.

One evening, after an exhaustive week, Nanami got tempted by his coworkers' drinks. It was just a casual evening in a local bar, but what was only supposed to be a greeting toast soon led to overblown drinking. Innumerable rounds were given in, and he completely lost track of time. That night, Y/N-very anxious and concerned-couldn't resist calling Nanami over and over. Each unanswered call stoked the flame of her anxiety—a flame that had slowly turned into a consuming fire.

That was the breaking point.

By the time Nanami finally stumbled through the door, the air was thick with tension. Y/N, whose heart had quickened in her chest, could tell immediately that something was amiss. Dread coiled in her stomach as she approached him with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, instantly regretting her choice of words. Instead of the soft acknowledgement he would usually give, Nanami's façade cracked. Anger and confusion danced in his eyes, and in a burst of bewildering rage, he lashed out.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" he snapped, venom dripping from his words. Y/N was taken aback by his anger as shock and disbelief washed over her. The night grew darker as Nanami's intoxication and the silent pressure of years of built-up frustrations escalated his tantrum. His rage was made manifest on Y/N, leaving her bruised and bloody. The love that had once bound them now lay shattered amidst the debris of violence.

The bitter taste of betrayal weighed heavy in the air. Y/N didn't just suffer from physical pain; deeper were the emotional scars. Just hours ago, her heart had been filled with concern for the man she loved, and now she wondered if the man she had stood beside all these years existed anymore.

When Nanami awoke the next morning, the dawn painted the world with hues of regret, but he felt none. His head throbbed from the previous night’s excess, but the shadow of his actions had yet to settle in his mind. As he stumbled out of bed, the memories of the night were shrouded in fog, leaving behind only a vague sense of unease.

Y/N, still reeling from the night before, sought to confront him. Bruising on her arms where he had grabbed her, her lip swollen and crimson, yet even as she revealed the marks of his anger to him, Nanami remained unyielding. "I don't need forgiveness when I haven't done anything wrong," he retorted, a cold shield wrapped tightly around his heart.

Her statement of forgiveness, offered in hopes of healing, hung limply between them, devoid of the warmth it was meant to carry. Instead of recognizing the gravity of his actions, Nanami buried himself deeper in denial, refusing to acknowledge the pain he had inflicted on the woman who had sacrificed so much for their TALE OF LOVE.

🏷️: @euphoricluvr @iwoulddieforkakashi @parasite-b

@ana-cst @maiumaiu83 @OstarxiaO

@anonnieghost @labelt-san

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“We were on a break!" I Nico Hischier

Summary; Breakups can be tough, but taking breaks can be even more challenging, especially when you're unsure about your position in the situation

Tropes & warnings; Strangers to lovers, romantic relationship, breakup, drama, sadness, one-night-stands, mention of alchohol consumption, potential trigger for your inner season three and four Ross/Rachel, exes to lovers

Other notes; time jumps, first time writing about Nico Hischier 🙈

Word count; 2.8K

➼｡ﾟ

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the tangled sheets and the aftermath of a night that held no solace. The stranger beside you, a fleeting connection in a sea of faces, seemed oblivious to the storm raging within you. The weight of guilt and regret settled like a heavy fog, and a single tear betrayed the depth of your emotions.

Nico. His name resonated in your mind like a haunting melody, a constant reminder of what once was. His smile, his laughter, his handsome face – they all lingered, refusing to be erased. The breakup had left wounds that refused to heal, and the bitter echo of "We were on a break!" reverberated in your thoughts like a cruel mantra.

The night with the stranger was meant to be an escape, an attempt to drown the memories of Nico. Yet, as you lay there, it became evident that no amount of distraction could erase the ache in your heart. The bitterness of the past clung to you, casting a shadow over the weak attempts to move forward.

The room held a heavy silence, broken only by the muffled sounds of the outside world. The stranger stirred, oblivious to the turmoil within you. And as you wiped away the silent tears, you couldn't help but wonder if the choices made in the dark were only intensifying the ache in the light of day. The journey to healing seemed like an uphill battle, and in that moment, you longed for the simplicity of what once was – the warmth of Nico's smile, the comfort of his laughter, and the love that had slipped away in the chaos of a break.

**

Nico Hischier, the charismatic Swiss captain of the New Jersey Devils, had effortlessly stolen your heart from the very moment your eyes met. His sweet accent, like a melodic symphony, echoed in your ears, and his undeniable charm had woven a spell around your soul.

The journey from strangers to a close couple had been swift, but as quickly as your relationship had blossomed, it had evolved into uncharted territory, creating tension and cracks in the once-solid foundation.

Your story with Nico began at a New Year's party, where chance had intertwined your paths with those of the Devils players, and the night unfolded like a fairy tale – you talked for hours, shared intimate details, and danced as if time had no meaning. And unlike the Cinderella tale, the enchantment didn't fade at midnight; instead, Nico mustered the courage to seal the night with a tender kiss as the clock struck twelve.

The relationship developed rapidly, and within a few months, you found yourself proudly donning his jersey in the stands, passionately cheering him on. Through playoffs and the highs and lows of life, you became his emotional anchor. Your days were filled with being a supportive hockey girlfriend, oscillating between regular work hours and being a constant presence in Nico's life.

Then the off-season arrived after the Devils fell short against the Hurricanes, and from mid-May, a new chapter unfolded, offering a glimpse into a different lifestyle. Nico's plans to return to Switzerland for the summer became the focal point, and you were set to join him. Plans were in place to meet his friends and family, adding another layer of connection to your evolving story with the Swiss hockey star. The anticipation of the upcoming journey to Switzerland brought a mix of excitement and nervousness, as you were about to step into the world that had shaped the man who had stolen your heart.

And when returning to New Jersey after the heavenly escapade in Switzerland, filled with cheese, chocolates, and breathtaking mountain views, your new every day life began to settle in. Nico's insistence on you moving in with him was swift, almost as if it were a natural progression in your fairy tale love story.

Your Prince Charming had practically designated a spot for your belongings one day, not bothering to ask if you wanted to or not. But, of course, you did. Nico was your perfect match, and in his eyes, it was a no-brainer. Your laughter at his jokes, the way you looked out for him, and the comfort of letting him be the little spoon – it all made you irreplaceable in his life.

However, then the picture-perfect life started to lose its lustre, as real life, unlike fairy tales, doesn't guarantee happy endings. Your once-charmed existence evolved into a routine, despite the unpredictable nature of the NHL schedule. Home games became routine evenings, weekends were consumed by hockey-related activities, and your entire world revolved around Nico and the sport.

And as much as you cherished these moments, a year into this life, you began to yearn for space. Space to spend time with your friends, to be yourself without the shadow of being "Nico Hischier's girlfriend”. You longed to carve out a name for yourself in your career and beyond.

The public nature of your relationship had altered the essence of who you were, and the playoffs, with their demanding schedule and emotional toll, added to the growing knot in your stomach. A sickening feeling crept in, signalling that you needed to address these issues before losing yourself completely.

And the breaking point came after yet another heated argument with Nico, a recurring theme over the past few months. The fights revolved around your plea for space, a need to reclaim your individuality, while Nico seemed unable to understand your perspective. The echoes of his constant questioning and insistence on having you around filled the air.

In the midst of the argument, Nico's frustration erupted. "You knew how this was going to be, y/n… I thought you understood," he shouted, his words hanging heavy in the charged atmosphere.

"I do understand, Nico. All I'm saying is that I also need to be myself, just for a little while – not just your girlfriend," you tried to reason, but the words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"I don't get it! So, what are you saying, that I can't have you AND my career? You know I can't make that choice, y/n!"

"That's not... that's not it! I just need some space..."

"Like how? Move out? Not be with me?"

"I don't know! I don't know what I want – maybe, we should just take a break or something..."

A heavy silence enveloped both of you as you caught your breaths, the weight of the words lingering in the air. The moment of truth arrived when you uttered the words that cut deeper than any knife could – but a painful decision you believed was necessary.

"You want a break from us?" Nico's dark eyes bore into yours, tears threatening to pool in the corners.

And as if your heart was being wrenched out, you nodded through the tears streaming down your face, making your skin puffy and swollen. "Yes," you whimpered softly. "I need a break from us, Nico. I need some time to think things through."

So, the following day, you moved out, leaving behind the life you had built together for the past year.

**

Nico's attempt to downplay the impact of the breakup fooled no one, especially not his teammates who knew him inside out. So, when the team faced another defeat in the playoffs, and the off-season loomed, the guys rallied together for a boys' night out, urging Nico to let loose and forget, even if just for a night.

In their minds, they believed that if Nico had truly moved on, he wouldn't be inclined to seek any distractions. However, to their surprise, he was more than willing to embrace a night of diversion. The usually focused and committed captain seemed eager to shake off the weight of the recent events, if only temporarily.

So, as the night unfolded, laughter and camaraderie echoed through the air, the boys watched as their captain navigated through the night, wondering if this temporary escape would provide the solace he needed or if it was just a fleeting distraction from the wounds that were still healing.

**

Two weeks had passed since the decision to take a break from Nico, and during that time, you delved deeper into your feelings. And as a more profound emotion stirred within you, you found yourself missing him more than anything. Armed with newfound clarity about your concerns, you decided it was time to face him again.

So without announcing your visit, you knocked on the front door of what was once your shared home, hoping to catch Nico off guard. You didn't want him to have the chance to prepare for your heartfelt admission that you had taken the time needed to be sure about wanting to be with him.

However, it turned out you were the one in for a surprise.

A perplexed Nico opened the door, and you greeted him with a soft, sincere smile. "y/n... what, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, sorry I just come around like this, but I just couldn't wait... I just wanted to tell you that-"

And then, you saw her.

A half-naked woman behind Nico, casually wandering around his condo in his shirt, her messy hair indicating she had clearly spent the night. The revelation hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, words failed you. The sincerity in your eyes shifted to confusion and hurt as you struggled to comprehend the scene before you.

"What?" Nico responded, his tone suddenly cold and seemingly heartless, as you stood there, baffled and hurt, your mouth slightly agape and your brows furrowed.

"You... you slept with someone?" Your voice carried a mix of firmness and vulnerability, a tear forming in the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, so what?" Nico spoke back. "Why do you even care about what I do?"

The shock hit you like a wave. While you had suggested a break, you hadn't anticipated that Nico would interpret it as a full-fledged breakup.

"Nico! I said I needed some time and space... and you just sleep with another woman!" you almost shouted, your accusation only adding fuel to the fire within him.

"So, what! We were on a break! Remember?"

"Yes, a break... that doesn't mean a breakup!"

"What?" Nico almost laughed mockingly. "What's even the difference... you didn't want to be with me – YOU broke up with ME... you expected me to just sit around and wait for you? Hell no!"

A part of you acknowledged that you were losing this battle. In a way, he had a point, and a semantic distinction couldn't salvage the situation at this point. Yet, stubbornness kept you from admitting defeat. Instead, you shook your head in disbelief and stormed off from his apartment, leaving the echoes of an unresolved argument behind.

**

The off-season was an agonising period. Not only had you parted ways with Nico on bitter terms, but you found no solace or distraction from the pain and heartache. Alcohol, casual hook-ups, and even late-night talks with your girls no longer sufficed. You were a broken mess, grappling with the aftermath of a painful breakup.

But resilience bubbled within you. Despite the turmoil, you knew you had to pull yourself together, rediscover the strength that defined you, and slowly navigate your way back to life.

So you put on your game face, dressing to impress as you reconnected with friends, curbing the wild party nights, and almost regaining the cheerful persona you once wore effortlessly. And with a burst of energy and a rejuvenating self-care trip to the hairdresser, you confronted the mature step of acknowledging that, since you were the one who made the decision, you had to face the consequences.

And the consequences led you to accidentally run into your ex at a small local coffee shop. A place you both used to love.

The encounter was unexpected, sending a jolt through your carefully rebuilt exterior. And as you stood face to face with Nico, a mix of emotions flooded in – regret, nostalgia, and the undeniable ache of a heart still on the mend.

Nico, equally taken aback, found himself frozen in place as he locked eyes with you. His internal dialogue urged him to keep walking, to ignore the familiar beauty that stood before him. Yet, his body seemed to defy his intentions, anchoring him in place after grabbing his coffee, while you were just about to join the queue.

There was a soft moment when your eyes met, a tender connection that transcended the past bitterness. It felt as though the anger had dissipated, leaving behind the remnants of broken hearts and emotions in need of care and love.

But despite the tenderness in the air, you couldn't shake off the nervousness, an anxiety about what he might say. Was he still angry? Did he need to unleash the pent-up frustration?

Surprisingly, Nico had processed those emotions during the summer. His training had served as a cathartic release, and the distance from the city had allowed his mind to gather its thoughts. He acknowledged that you had every right to feel the way you did. His demanding sport and schedule had consumed much of your time, leaving little room for the attention you deserved. He knew that now.

Moreover, he admitted to himself that sleeping with someone else hadn't made him feel any better. In fact, it left him with a sense of remorse. The void he thought could be filled was only accentuated by the absence of what truly mattered – the connection he had lost with you.

He had missed your kisses, the feel of your body, and the warmth of your smile. The void left by your absent laughter felt overwhelming, and he found no comfort in any other woman. All he wanted was to win you back.

"Y/n..." he began, attempting to navigate the conversation.

"Nico..." you replied, a light smile trying to form on your lips as you observed his facial expression.

And just as you were about to speak, so was he.

"Oh no..." you chuckled lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You go first..."

"Y/n... I'm sorry – shit, I don't even know what to say, I'm just..."

"Wait," you softly interrupted. "You're sorry? Nico, if anyone should be sorry, it should be me... I broke up with you, and then I got mad at you for trying to move on... I'M the one who's sorry," you admitted, almost on the verge of tears, unable to believe that he had opened up like this.

"But Schätzi..." the nickname rolled off his lips, a familiar warmth in the midst of the conversation. "I- I didn't even fight for you..."

You could sense he was struggling with the words, yet his expression and body language conveyed volumes.

"What do you mean, Nic... I pushed you away – I ran from our relationship..."

Tears once again trailed down your cheeks, and Nico's admission hung in the air, creating a strange and charged atmosphere between you two.

Amidst the aromatic blend of coffee and the gentle hum of brewing, the two of you found yourselves engaged in a battle of apologies, each trying to outdo the other in expressing remorse for the breakup. It seemed almost foolish, and the weight of the situation suddenly struck you both as laughter bubbled up.

"You did what I asked of you... because you're an amazing boyfriend, and I don't deserve you – I know that," you confessed with sincerity, offering him a soft smile as you poured out your emotions. "But, I do hope I can make up for it and not have you hate me..."

"Hate you? Schätzi, I could never hate you..." Nico spoke softly, taking a step forward as his large form entered your personal space.

You looked up at him, a mix of confusion and comfort washing over you.

"Really?"

"Shit... no way – I love you; I still do and most likely always will," he declared, flashing you half a smile.

And you couldn't help but wonder what you had done to deserve such a man.

"Nico... I love you too," you spoke softly, almost timid.

Again, a brief moment of silence hung in the air between you as you kept your eyes locked.

"So..." Nico broke the silence. "Does that mean I still have a chance with you?"

"Oh baby, I'm the one who doesn't deserve another chance with you... but if you'll have me, I'm all yours..."

"Of course, I'll have you!" Almost tossing his coffee aside, Nico pulled you into a heartfelt hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he embraced your figure. "And this time, I'll never let you go." 

The words resonated with sincerity, a promise made in the midst of coffee shop sounds and the sweet aroma of brewing, sealing a chapter of heartache and opening a new one filled with hope and renewed love.

[clevercorvidae]

In the basement of the Mystery Shack there once lived a towering triangular machine. It hummed with a great and terrible alien power. It roared with the voice of doom and loss and inexplicable weirdness.

The great and terrible machine was once many pieces in a grand but simple plan from the stars beyond, a physical catalogue of many specimens. When that plan crashed and crumbled into the valley that would one day be Gravity Falls, its loss was mourned as it was buried beneath the earth.

The great and terrible machine was once nothing but a harsh whisper in an eager ear, a pen drawn to paper, frantically scribbling away to capture its dire beauty. Blueprints for its immaculate conception marring pages in the bible of hubris.

The great and terrible machine was once just a series of intricate, passionately welded together pieces of an ancient graveyard. Wires and circuitry woven carefully by terrified hands.

The great and terrible machine was once a window, a revolving door, a gateway to hell and a stairway to heaven all at once. It rumbled like a beast and ate like one too. After lapping up its fill of misery it lay down in false torpor for 30 long years.

When the great and terrible machine finally died it put on its divine halo and engulfed itself in demonic flames. Earth became sky. Gravity fell. And the universe tore itself a brand new eye.

After the end of the world, the great and terrible machine lie as a carcus, a skeleton. Its architect long forgotten. Its corpse would be dragged away, repurposed into a new sturdy grappling hook and the hull of a sail boat and a chew-proof pen and industructable banjo strings and a sick new axe and some definitely illegal brass knuckles and a pair of wedding bands and a new cash register and many more beautiful but quaint things that shine brighter than the horrible machine ever could.

In the basement of the Mystery Shack there is no trace of the terrible thing that once shook its foundations. Instead the space holds laughter. Often its used as a workshop for an aging inventor or a glue-gun happy teenager to tinker with creations. Often it is used as a space for countless sheets of a graphing paper and rolling of dice. Often it is used to host parties and get togethers and holidays to bring a weird town with weirder citizens together again.

Never again will the basement beneath the Mystery Shack be filled with loss or terror or pain or regret. No darkness. Only love, only light. The eye is closed. Hdvvg Wivznh.

[en-geneisaxx]

Case: L̶O̶V̶3A̶N̶D̶R̶3V̶3N̶63

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝖒𝖆𝖋𝖎𝖆, 𝖌𝖚𝖓𝖘, 𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉, 𝖒𝖉𝖓𝖎 (𝖒𝖙𝖇𝖆)

𝚂𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝙹𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙰 𝚝𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘏𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴!! 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘤. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 '𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯-𝘵𝘩𝘦-𝘨𝘰' 𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 :(

Likes, reblogs and/or following me will be much appreciated!!

Preview:

Something had to go wrong. Nothing, and I repeat, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ever goes perfect, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

That thought never left my mind, but, why waste such a perfect day with doubts and worries? No, I would regret that.

Turns out, it was going to be regretful either way.

I allowed myself to live in the blissful hours, alone, forgetting about my loving family. The levitating feeling, one that I was desperate for, was a curse. Forget about the sunshine, it was always at home, always with my family.

As the sun gave its goodbyes for the day, I rush over to my house, bringing along the foods and toys I, out of pitiful luck, managed to acquire without a coin to pay; I was grateful mother nature gave me the treasures on my outing in the woods today.

I didn't walk, I skipped instead, with such joy to be able to provide the family and, I have to admit, to hear the praises with such pride in their voice, all accompanied by their heart-warming smiles. My young sister would be preoccupied with the stuffed teddy bear, something that must've been lost by its owner. I thanked the universe for this gift, but felt bad for whoever lost such a prize. I had to, mentally, thank them too.

It's strange, how a nine-year-old could be so mature yet so youthful, especially someone with a heart of an angel. God's child they say, but would it be even if she took the wrong turn? What would happen to her once Satan interfered with her bubbly life, turning it into a nightmare that will be engraved in her memories?

Each skip to the house was a step closer to the dreaded ending, one that'll make her turn into a 'monster'.

No one is a monster, it's just that we can be hurt so badly it affects our morals, and it dims our pure light.

The sky has dressed in its black attire, mourning the lifeless bodies that lay in a house with foundations of love.

It starts to rain, for the clouds know what to expect when an innocent child has to face hell instead of the welcoming arms of care and comfort. It'll be scary, how quickly a baby must mature, and survive with an overwhelming feeling of agony, hatred, and vengeance.

"Eomma, Appa, sister!" You announced your arrival, yet it felt oddly strange. The lights are off, and the door is slightly open. You slow down, taking cautious steps towards the front door, with one thought in mind: 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

It's terrifying you, you're unprepared, and it's so late at night, a chance for young minds to bring its fears into reality.

Who would come into your house, let alone leave it in such a state...unless they never left.

You're petrified at this moment, heart beating in such an abnormal pace, your body is so stiff it's like you need to run away. But what about your family? You can't abandon them.

One step...two...three. There, lies the sinful acts displayed in the living room. One, two, three bodies who looked exactly like the people you love covered in blood when they shouldn't have. And a mysterious figure in the darkness, presenting a disgusting smile, as if killing was nothing.

Tagging: @pockettwinzz @potatohoon @diorsyun @heeslomll @hoonieshoneymain @rinbowaman @sungvrhs @emi-en @jaylaxies @velvetkisscs @dollywons

[lucidsjournal]

GINTAMA REVIEW

After finishing Gintama: The Very Final, my journey with Gintama has officially come to a close, and I must say it has been an amazing ride. Within this post, I will discuss my overall thoughts and feelings about various aspects of the series.

The Groundworks of Gintama:

First, I wanted to talk about my experience with the comedy episodes because I think they are the heart and soul of Gintama. Though at some points the comedy episodes were underwhelming, they steadily improved and became funnier as the series progressed. Some of the best episodes in Gintama are comedy episodes, many of them being filled with life lessons that can genuinely resonate with your own experiences.

I also think a lot of the comedy episodes are excellent because they lay down the foundation for the series by introducing so many new and interesting characters that you dive into. This is also accompanied by exploring many aspects of their lives and relationships with one another, portraying them as a close-knit, if unconventional, family. Seeing their dynamics play out is a joy to watch and though they may joke around and tease one another, they are always there for each other when it counts. As you grow attached to these characters, the serious arcs become even more impactful. Especially in arcs like Benizakura, Four Devas, Shogun Assassination, and so forth. During arcs like these, the stakes are raised higher than ever and the characters' unity in the face of common threats are deeply moving and satisfying.

Gintama's Mastery in Character Revelation Through Vulnerability and Tragedy:

Gintama has a rather large cast of characters, and despite its size, it manages to gently draw you in and make you care about these characters through these individual and personal moments. A lot of the times the show depicts these characters in a more vulnerable fashion and could even change your perspective on them through further context. A good example could be seen with the character Oboro, who is initially depicted as this intimidating assassin who is loyal to Utsuro. But as the show progresses, more is shown about his character and the tragedy surrounding him. Through the presented flashbacks, it is revealed that Oboro lost everything and was saved by Shouyou, eventually becoming his first student. Later on, when Oboro is assumed to be dead after protecting Shouyou, he comes across Shouyou again. But during this instance, Shouyou is seen with new students at the school that Oboro inspired him to open. It is pictured how abandoned Oboro feels when he sees his former teacher with other students, believing that Shouyou no longer even recognizes him. So essentially, this envy and sense of abandonment he felt is what drives him to betray Shouyou and assist in his capture.

As Oboro's character continues to unfold in his final moments, it becomes clear that his deepest desire is to be with his teacher, Shouyou, and the other students as a sort of family. This scene provides so much more context and depth to Oboro's character in painting the regret and sadness he feels. It is such a tragic underline to his character, which only strengthens his dynamics with the other characters, especially with Takasugi.

This ability to effectively provide substance to these characters, often supported by flashbacks, is something Gintama has done consistently well. This could even be seen as far back as in the Mitsuba Arc. Throughout the Mitsuba Arc, Sougo's character past is explored as well as his relationship with Toshi and the newly introduced character, Mitsuba, Sougo's sister. Up until this arc Sougo is shown to be primarily sadistic and conniving, who seemingly holds a grudge towards Toshi. But throughout this arc, we delve deeper into Sougo's character, revealing a vulnerable side to him as he mourns the passing of his sister, which emotionally impacted me a lot.

What Gintama Means To Me:

So I have rambled for a while on well Gintama is able to explore these characters in an emotionally resonant matter. But what does Gintama mean to me? Well to me, Gintama is fundamentally about finding the will to persevere through any struggle and tragedy we may experience, an idea that is strongly supported by the bonds we form, giving us purpose and the strength to overcome any adversity.

The idea of what it means to live forever is something that is a motif throughout the series, as it demonstrates how people's influence and impact on each other leaves a lasting imprint on their souls. This can be shown within the Yorozuya themselves, where upon meeting Gintoki, Shinpachi is bewildered by him and follows in his footsteps to learn the way of the samurai, and this bond that Shinpachi forms with Gintok is strengthened and immortalized as the series progresses.

Kagura, who initially lived with Gintoki solely because she needed money to go back to her homeworld, realizes how much she has enjoyed her time with Shinpachi and Gintoki. Ultimately staying back with this newfound family of hers. The impact Gintoki had on Kagura could be seen through the fact that she has picked up so many of his mannerisms and habits, such as picking his nose and his sense of humor.

While also referring to Gintoki as her, "earth father" on a couple of occasions.

Kagura and Shinpachi to me, share a sibling-like bond. Shinpachi, is the older, rational brother, while Kagura is the younger more brash sister. These two characters have such different personalities and backgrounds, yet still function as siblings. Much of their personalities clash and lead to frequent bickering and playful jabs as many siblings would. Yet beneath all of that lies a deep affection and willingness to support each other through thick and thin. One of the greatest examples that showcases their bond would of course be in Yoshiwara in Red Arc. In this arc, lies a powerful sequence where Kagura loses herself after seeing Shinpachi being beaten up almost to death, which then leads Shinpachi to having to save her as well by reminding her of the bond they share. It was such a touching moment to me and showcased how strong their relationship has become.

As you can tell, I love seeing the character interactions between the three of these characters. There are so many memorable ones and it only shows how much you become attached to them. The emotional beats never seem to miss and it is something that continues to be strengthened as the show progresses.

Gintoki Sakata, Gintama's Soul:

So I talked about Gintoki a bit previously, but I wanted to talk about him more. This will tie into the previous section in what Gintama means to me because I think Gintoki encapsulates the whole premise of the show best. Through Gintoki, we see how deeply the Yorozuya and the many other characters in the series have impacted him, just as much as he has on them. Not only that but it is revealed in the Red Spider arc that another character had a significant influence on him, his teacher Shouyou.

It becomes clear that Gintoki carries the teachings he learned from Shouyou. When the two first met, Gintoki was merely a child who was thrust into a life of killing by circumstances beyond his control. Gintoki had no clear purpose besides trying to survive by defending himself. As the two grew closer, Shoyou laid the foundation for a much different path for Gintoki, one where he would have a purpose. This sense of purpose would lead Gintoki to use his sword to protect his very soul. What this means is that Shouyou was essentially trying to prevent him from succumbing to emptiness, which would only lead to despair. Shouyou himself struggled with this, as Utsuro, his other personality, greatly encompasses. And despite experiencing the death of Shouyou at his own hands and among other tragedies, Gintoki honored the teachings of Utsuro by finding the will to persevere. He started all over again and found this new sense of purpose in The Yorozuya and the entirety of the Kabuki district, forever living on within all the souls he has touched just as much as those very same souls influenced and saved Gintoki from falling into despair.

He encompasses what Gintama is all about, as someone who is constantly met with adversity. Gintoki continuously fought himself, tying into what Kamui said to Gintoki during the Battle Rakuyo arc, that Gintoki was not fighting Kamui, but was instead fighting something else.

This essentially means that whenever Gintoki is fighting someone, no powerful how they are, he is battling himself- facing his weaknesses, fears, and the prospect of becoming empty. This is exactly what Shouyou had taught him. Instead of running away from his weaknesses, he fights them head-on in battle. By doing so, he is simultaneously protecting the bonds he made with countless characters. These bonds have molded him into the new name he now possesses "Yorozuya Gin-Chan," a name that symbolizes the connections he treasures and fights to defend.

It also contributes to why Gintoki is such an endearing character who is so empathic to others who have lost everything and still can provide them with the hope to keep moving forward and fight against their inner weaknesses, just as Shouyou had taught him. He is one of the most life-affirming characters I have experienced and he has so many moments that moved me, especially times when Gintoki comes in to save the day and provide some wisdom that not only applies to the characters he is talking to, but to us as the viewers. There have not been a lot of characters who have been able to have this level of impact on me, but I am thankful that Gintoki Sakata for being one of them.

To Be Hollow:

Within this section, I wanted to discuss more on Utsuro and Shouyou. To me, Utsuro is one of the most nuanced and compelling antagonists I have seen in anime. Supported by a demanding and engaging presence in the same vein as other phenomenal anime antagonists such as Johan and Dio. Similarly to Gintoki, he also masterfully encompasses the ideas of Gintama. But he serves as the direct contrast to Gintoki. Utsuro is physically immortal due to the Atlanta in his body. He eventually became "empty" or “hollow.” Such that he was exposed to the worst of humanity, and was not able to form meaningful connections and memories much like Gintoki and the others did. Unfortunately, he tragically fell into despair, lacking a clear set purpose apart from destruction.

 The Shouyou personality, on the other hand, represents the hope and humanity that resides in all of us. Despite all of the suffering we have endured we can instead strive to change, and fight against our inner “Utsuro."

And though Shouyou eventually lost, he was still able to save and pave the way for his students. Gintoki himself is the actualization of that hope and so I believe Shouyou was able to reach 'true immortality' by bonding with the students he saved just as much as they saved him. He continues to live on within them. I think this just makes Shouyou/Utsuro's dynamic with Gintoki so much more interesting. Especially considering how it recontextualizes the first time Gintoki and Shouyou met. In essence, Shouyou saw himself in Gintoki and realized how dangerous the path he was taking. So by influencing Gintoki, he was able to prevent another 'him' from being born.

Utsuro's Last Stand

The final confrontation between Gintoki and Utsuro/Takasugi marks one of the best fights I have seen in anime, with an absolutely devastating conclusion for Takasugi. The idea of Utsuro taking hold of Takasugi's body was an amazing twist. It initially places Gintoki into such a fascinating predicament, forcing him to fight the shadow of his mentor in his dying friend's body, Takasugi. This tragically parallels the moment when Gintoki was previously forced to kill Shouyou in order to protect his friends during the Joui War. The recurring motif of true immortality is made clear during this fight and it makes Utsuro's conclusion so much more satisfying. This is supported by the reappearance of Oboro, who despite being dead, is revealed to be inside of Takasugi's body alongside Utsuro. This is because of the promise Takasugi made to Oboro, and though Takasugi briefly knew him, he understood his pain and frustration in wanting to be with the other students. So by honoring Oboro's death and working to fulfill his wish to stop Utsuro, Oboro continues to live on within the body of Takasugi, strengthened by their shared resolve. (I'll touch up on this more in a bit as I discuss Utsuro's conclusion).

The Death and Reincarnation of Takasugi:

So as we know, Gintoki was in a position where he had to fight his mentor and friend, Takasugi. Takasugi is well aware of the burden of having to slay down his mentor and friend on Gintoki, which drives some of the reasons why he inevitably sacrifices himself.

Upon Utsuro's death, we see a stunning sequence where Gintoki and Takasugi are on a boat, with many butterflies and petals surrounding the two of them.

Even though Gintoki knows Takasugi will soon die, Gintoki still clings to this idealized dream, one where Takasugi will still live; explaining that he would have loved to enjoy a drink with him. But this is rejected by Takasugi, who reminds Gintoki that even if he still lives, they would still be fighting against each other as rivals. Gintoki himself is aware of this because before the fantasy appears, he mentions that this was inevitable, that Takasugi had not grown at all. Yet Gintoki still fantasized about this possibility, and it made this sequence so much more tragic for me. Afterward, Takasugi places his hand into the water, dissipating the idealized dream and showing him the true reality before them, that he is going to die. There is nothing Gintoki can do about it. During this sequence, Takasugi reminds Gintoki to keep persevering and maintaining the many relationships he has made. He even states, "There is plenty left to protect with that thing, right" where it briefly pans to Gintoki's sword. This ties into the whole idea of what Gintoki fights for, as recontextualized during the Battle Rakuyo arc as I discussed above. Takasugi's desire for Gintoki to let go of this dream and continue forth in life just makes his sacrifice even more significantly moving to me. Now towards the end of the film, it is revealed that Takasugi was reincarnated.  

Initially, I was not sure how to feel about this because I felt as if it might contradict and diminish the significance of Takasugi's death. Then as I continued to reflect on the scene, I began to see how it incorporates some of the show's messages, while strengthening Takasugi's dynamic with Shouyou. The “reincarnated” version of Takasugi that is shown, is a new version of himself metaphorically, similar to how the Shouyou personality was birthed from Utsuro. Essentially, he was given an opportunity, a second chance to find purpose. This new version of Takasugi that emerged has the possibility of not being blinded by hatred and a desire to destroy. It also helps that Shouyou was the one who bestowed this gift on Takasugi, in hopes that he would truly strive for a new path. Through this interpretation of mine, it feels more rewarding considering Takasugi's sacrifice against Utsuro and I believe it still respects the sequence of Takasugi passing in Gintoki's arms. It also ties into the whole idea that it is never too late to change. Though it may have seemed impossible initially, this could provide hope that Gintoki may one day reunite with Takasugi and fight him anew, but with a Takasugi who is not blinded by his weaknesses.

My Favorite Sequences

When reflecting on my favorite moments in the series, three stand out. The first was Utsuro's final say in Gintama: The Very Finale, which was truly incredible. His speech sums up a good bit of what I have talked about previously up until this point, that being the connections and relationships we form give us meaning and ensure that we will live forever.

This is Utsuro's acceptance of this idea. He initially saw a glimpse of the power of immortal bonds through Gintoki's perseverance during the Silver Soul Arc. But the difference is that he ran away and rejected this idea completely because he still believed his belief in humanity was correct. He could not accept it because he knew it would invalidate his actions up until this point and his very identity perhaps. But Utsuro can no longer run away now and there was no turning back.

In the end, he was proven wrong. He saw how humanity can persevere through impossible odds and these characters embody those ideas so well. Oboro who was dead, was now revealed to be alive in the end, attempting to stop Utsuro. Takasugi who sacrificed himself to not only honor Oboro's wishes but to save Gintoki and what he was protected. Though Takasugi is dying, it is revealed that the bonds he shares with Gintoki are stronger than ever, and though Gintoki will ultimately slay his friend alongside the shadow of his mentor, Gintoki will preserve as he always does. This made Utsuro's plan of hollowing Gintoki by forcing him to slay his mentor and friend useless in the end. It is through these sequences of events that Utsuro finally understood what immortality really was, something he tragically never experienced despite being physically, "immortal." The second is when Gintoki reunites with his teacher, Shouyou. It is a beautifully cathartic sequence that feels like the culmination of what the entire series has been building up to. Watching Gintoki share what he has accomplished and the purpose he found within the Yorozuya was incredibly moving. The Yorozuya, a group that helps people no matter what the issue is, whether it is walking someone’s dog or saving the planet, embodies the essence of what Gintoki has become, the little monster who became human.

This leads seamlessly into my third favorite scene, that being “the skies have cleared up,” which I think brilliantly serves as the Final Say of the series, highlighting how Gintoki has let go of all of his burdens, guilt, and pain, fully embracing a life that has been enriched by the countless relationships he has formed. Beautifully showing the idea that it is never too late, that you can still fight your weaknesses, form meaningful connections, and strive to live a life that is colored by the bonds we create. This scene also compliments the scene with Gintoki and Takasugi on the boat so well, because it shows how Gintoki carried on Takasugi's wishes. Letting go of his pain, essentially being 'rebirthed," paralleling to the rebirth of Takasugi shown in the film. Which will make their reunite all the more beautiful.

So that is everything, for now, it is quite evident that Gintama is a special series to me. It is probably my favorite anime at the moment lol. I really hope you guys enjoyed this. These are just my rough thoughts, I may expand on some of the ideas I have brought up here in the near future :)

[hearts-hunger]

evergreen — part four

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Series Summary: Jake takes you on your first vacation to the cabin the gang stays at every year. When memories of past relationships loom heavy, will this vacation send cracks through the foundation of safety and trust you have in each other?

Chapter Summary: It's raining, and you wake up alone.

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: fluff, angst, emotional h/c | Word Count: 2.3k | Warnings: sexual innuendo

A/N: You voted not to make Jake and Sparrow suffer any more, so I only put in a teensy bit more angst. Let the comfort part of the hurt/comfort commence ♡

You woke with a start, listening to the steady roll of thunder that washed over the sound of the heavy rain in the darkness. The window was still open; you could feel the cold, wet breeze and heard the way it had started to settle in your chest with congestion. You shivered and lay in bed for a long while, watching the way streaks of lightning lit up the room in brief silver flashes.

Jake’s side of the bed was empty. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or bereft that he was gone; part of you wanted to let yourself be held, but the other part of you was ashamed to even be near him. This whole mess was your fault, and you were sick with guilt and regret as thoughts spiraled and spun their wheels in your head.

What had gotten into you? Talking to Jake like that, fighting with him, using him and letting him use you — all of it made you bleakly ill, a rockiness of the mind rather than the body. For its part, though, your body ached and protested every moment; neither of you had been gentle, and the consequences of it made themselves known in the soreness of your muscles and the tenderness of places you knew would be marked on your skin.

You wished Jake were with you, if only so you could let him brush his fingers over the places he’d left bruises and hickeys and red stripes from his nails. To feel his touch be gentler, to return it with a soft glance of your own fingers over his marks; you thought it might help. It felt wrong, unfinished, to leave each other without the conversation and soft laughter and tenderness you always shared after you slept together. Like a puzzle missing the middle piece.

You looked at your phone to see what time it was, and under the glowing numbers reading 7:43 pm, you saw a text from Jake. 

Went for a drive, he'd said. I hope I'm back before you wake up, but if I'm not, I love you. Don't be upset, sparrow. We'll talk when I get back. Love you love you.

You felt a weak smile surface as you read it. “Love you love you” was an inside joke, started when you accidently sent the same message twice a few months ago. You set your phone on the bedside table and rose to take a shower, examining the marks on your skin as the hot water ran over them; you hurt all over, in your heart as badly as anywhere physical.

Out in the living room, you found Josh and Baby on the couch, unsurprised to see Dirty Dancing playing in the background as they worked on a puzzle spread out on the coffee table. Danny and Sam were in the kitchen making what smelled like cookies, and you heard the kettle whistle before Sam took it off the heat.

Josh looked up at your entrance and nudged Baby. She looked up too, and their twin looks of concern and mild panic could almost have been comical if you’d been feeling any better.

“Hi, honey,” she said, patting the spot next to her on the couch. “Come here.”

You did as she said, sinking into the overstuffed couch and gratefully accepting the blanket she spread over you. She brushed her hand through your tangled hair, very gently.

“How are you?” she asked.

You shook your head and buried your face in the blanket. 

“Okay, sparrow,” she cooed. “Sit tight.” She got up and asked Danny to make you a cup of tea; when she returned, she sat on your other side, squeezing you between her and Josh, and started to brush your hair.

“Joshy?” she asked. He hummed in answer.

“Will you go get your conditioning spray from the bag in the bathroom?” she asked. “I didn’t think to grab it.”

He went to get it for her, and Danny and Sam came in bearing several mugs of tea and a plate of Danny’s famous chocolate chip cookies. 

“Here, sparrow,” Sam said, handing your treats to you. “Might be a little warm.”

Josh came back with his fancy, expensive conditioning spray and handed it to Baby.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

His smile was a touch bemused. “‘S just hair stuff, sparrow. I don't mind if you use it.”

The five of you settled in around the coffee table: Sam sat in the easy chair with Danny at his feet, playing with Danny’s hair; Josh sat on the floor to keep working on his puzzle, giving your knee a comforting pat as he did; Baby gently brushed through your hair in slow, methodical movements.

You felt your throat get tight like it did before you started crying. You were so thankful for your family, for their patient and selfless care even when you’d been the one to start all the trouble.

“Jake went out earlier,” Baby told you. “In case you were wondering where he was.”

You nodded. “He texted me.”

“Oh. That's good.” She started to gather your hair into sections to braid it. “He didn’t say when he’d be back, but... maybe you're okay with having a little break, huh?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. “Maybe.”

When your braid was finished, she tilted your head back and kissed the crown of your head. “It’s gonna be alright, sparrow. He can't stay mad at you.”

“Oh, I don't know,” you said weakly. “This one was a doozy. You heard it yourself.”

Josh arranged a set of edge pieces into place. “Yeah, but you... you made up, right?”

The pink in his cheeks made you blush, knowing that your “making up” had been loud enough to be broadcast to everyone else.

“Well, it was sort of... It wasn't really...” You trailed off, embarrassed and sick with yourself. “It was a mistake. Not that we didn't mean to do it, but... we shouldn’t have. Not like that.”

Baby ran a comforting hand up and down your arm. “Yeah. It happens. Heat of the moment and all that. You’ll feel better when you talk to him.”

You gave a bitter, heartsick laugh. “That’s what started the whole thing. I tried to talk to him about the bedroom thing, and... you heard what happened. It was my fault, really. I made it a huge mess.”

Josh frowned. “What bedroom thing?” He looked around and saw that everyone else knew what you were talking about. “I’m out of the loop.”

“Jake picked his old room yesterday,” Danny said, a little dazed and dreamy as Sam played with his hair.

Josh grimaced. “You mean his one from last year? Why? Even I could have told him that was stupid.” He looked up at you. “Now I get why you were yelling at him.”

You couldn't help the tears that spilled over then. As foolish and oblivious as Jake had been, the real fault was with you for not saying anything.

Josh’s expression softened. “Aw, sparrow. I didn't mean to make you upset. I’m sorry.”

You only cried harder, thankful you’d heard that from Josh, wishing desperately that you'd heard it from his twin. Jake had every right to be upset with your passive-agressiveness, but you couldn't help but need some kind of understanding and apology from him.

Josh came to join your on the couch, taking your hands in his. “Sparrow. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I mean, yeah,” you said pathetically, “but I really need to talk about it with him, and he's not here.”

“He shouldn't be gone too much longer,” Sam offered kindly.

“Did he say when he'd be back?” you asked hopefully.

“No, sparrow. I'm sorry. Do you want me to ask him?”

“No,” you said miserably. “Let him go drive around creation for all I care.”

If you hadn't been too busy crying, you would have seen Danny slip his phone out of his pocket to text Jake. Your dear friends, your family, watched you with careful, worried gazes and tried to ask each other silently what to do.

Baby took the lead, maybe in tune with your feminine needs more than the guys could be. She leaned back on the couch and pulled you close to her, stroking a hand over your neatly braided hair.

“Okay, sparrow,” she said gently. “Let’s just sit for a while. You want to watch something else?”

You shrugged helplessly, burying your face against her shoulder.

“I know what we should watch,” Danny said. He pulled something else up on the tv. “This’ll work, right?”

You heard Sam give a soft laugh. “Yeah. Worth a try, anyway.”

The unmistakable sound of the Bluey theme song started to play, and you gave a watery laugh and managed to lift your head from Baby’s shoulder.

“Now you’re just trying to see how much I can cry,” you joked, and you got four sympathetic smiles in return. 

“I tried to pick a funny one,” Danny said. “But it’s okay if you want to cry some more, sparrow.”

You settled in to watch a few episodes, and as you laughed together at the antics and tender moments of the show, you decided Danny’s choice had been a good one. Tea mugs were refilled, another batch of cookies taken out of the oven; the only thing that was missing was Jake, and if he’d been there, despite everything, you would have been content.

At the end of the fourth episode, all gazes turned towards the door to see a wet, bedraggled Jake come inside. It was clear he’d hoped to sneak in unnoticed, and when he saw he hadn't, a dull blush showed under the shadowed look on his face. 

“Uh, hi,” he said awkwardly. 

Josh cleared his throat. “We’re watching Bluey.”

“I see that.” He ran a hand through his damp hair that had started to curl. “Can I... can I borrow sparrow for a minute?”

They all looked to you, and you felt your face heat. Jake was watching for your response with some kind of need you were helpless to resist, not knowing if you could meet whatever need it was but determined to try.

“Sure,” you said, untangling yourself from the blanket and the protective care of your friends to go to the one who needed you, your partner, the love of your life no matter what had happened between you. His look of relief cut you to the quick, and you came close to him and hoped your face showed how much you wanted to love him like he was asking you to.

“Can you get dressed in something warm?” he asked quietly. “I want to... well, I have something to show you.”

“Okay,” you agreed. He could have asked you for the moon, looking rain-soaked and tired as he did, and you would have tried to get it for him. You gave his hand a quick squeeze and left him to get dressed, hearing a quiet conversation between him and your friends drift down the hall.

Dressed warmly as he’d asked, you rejoined him at the door and gladly accepted his hand when he offered it. He led you outside and stood on the porch with you, looking out at the rain.

“You up for a little walk?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. Anything for him.

You walked together in the rain, holding his hand as he led you through the darkness. You didn't ask where he was taking you; he could be leading you out for a late-night swim in the freezing cold river and you’d still go. This was your apology, your assurance that you trusted him, your reminder that you would stick with him in the rain and the dark as willingly as you would on a bright, sunny day. He seemed to know and kept you tucked close to his side, safe and warm and loved, always.

You stopped short when you saw where he was taking you, that sad, strange something that had twisted inside you in bed now untangling into something warm and deep and heartsick with love for him. Under the sheltering canopy of the evergreen trees stood a little tent, snug and cosy and lit with fairy lights, a safe haven in the middle of the storm. 

“A love nest,” he said. His voice was hesitant, unsure. “A real one. For you, sparrow.”

You swallowed. You didn't know what to say.

“You don't like it,” he said. It was a statement, not a question, and it broke your heart.

“No,” you said quickly, softly, turning to look at him. He was soaked and cold and tired for love of you, and you felt you could never really tell him how much you loved him.

“A love nest,” you said. You touched his cheek. “For sparrow and her Jake-bird.”

He gave a watery laugh, desperate and sorrowful and so, so relieved. “Yeah. For sparrow and her Jake-bird.”

Your little love nest was only a few paces away, but he needed you here, in this moment, and you wouldn't have denied him for anything in the world. You pressed close and kissed him as the cold rain fell on both of you, and he gave a shuddering sigh as he held your face in his hands and gave you all the love you needed, more love than you could ever deserve.

“I love you, sparrow,” he said. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I love you.”

“Jake.” You hugged him tight, resting in his warmth and safety and the feeling of home he would always give you. “I love you too.”

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