#they were willing to give up their lives on earth to stay dead for each other

[tides-and-moon]

listen guys i. love tiencha so much i have so many thoughts about them

[thebeesatemyknees]

Remarried

Johnny Mactavish x reader and past Simon Riley x reader

Word count: 800 || Warnings: Angst. || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"

You and Johnny got married after Simon, your previous husband, was KIA.

It took you a long time to grieve, to get the pieces of yourself back together. Johnny was there the whole time. He was the one who told you about Simon’s passing, he was there to hold you as you sobbed, he was there to check in on you in the following months. Then, the following years. You grew closer and closer, and ended up getting married. And he continued to take care of you, staying forever respectful of the love you still had for his late lieutenant. His friend.

The only time he has ever demanded anything of you was when he asked you to change your last name.

You desperately wanted to hold on to the name Riley. You even offered to hyphenate it. Begged him to let you keep it. And you couldn’t understand why he was so dead set on it. Why wouldn't your caring, kind, loving Johnny let you keep this memory of your late lover? But he was not budging, patiently explaining to you that it’s for your safety, yet still not giving you any specific information. You finally gave up after hearing his voice quiver slightly and his eyes begin to shine with tears, while he calmly asked you yet again to let go of Simon’s name.

Years passed, you grew older and you unvaryingly worried about Johnny whenever he got deployed. Each time you awaited his return, and… you still quietly let the pain and love left after Simon’s death live in you.

It happened during one of Johnny’s deployments. You were shopping, walking through busy streets, a faceless crowd buzzing around you. Johnny was not supposed to be back for another few weeks.

So you were beyond surprised when you spotted him in the distance, standing in front of one of the many coffee shops. You started making your way towards him when your gaze went to a burly man standing in front of Johnny. You could only see his back. But that was enough for you. You could recognise him anytime, anywhere. You could recognise him by his stance, by the way he tilted his head forwards to hide his face under the hood. You surely could recognise him in complete darkness just by the sound of his steps, by his breath, his smell, his taste.

Johnny noticed you, storming towards them, when you were only a few steps away from the place they were standing in. Too late. Too late to react. To tell his companion to leave. To hide. He opened his mouth but no words came out. His heart sank, painfully heavy in his chest, as he saw pure anguish distorting the features of your face.

You slipped between the two of them, turning your back to your husband and facing the man. A ghost. A man who was not supposed to be walking the earth anymore.

You were looking Simon Riley, your dead husband, straight in the eye.

You see, through the years, ever since he came bearing the news of your husband’s KIA status, Johnny had been carrying a heavy secret on his shoulders. A responsibility that weighed him down, but that he’s never regretted taking. He cared about Simon. He cared about you and he quickly learned to love you. So when your safety became compromised by the target that had been put on Simon, he didn’t hesitate. He immediately volunteered to take care of you, to become a placeholder for the man who had to disappear from the face of earth yet again.

It wasn’t in his plan to fall for you. He was supposed to simply look after you. He didn’t have to marry you. But then he got the green light from Simon himself. Simon, who believed that he'd never be able to hold you in his arms again. Simon, who was willing to suffer for the rest of his life but was not willing to let you live yours in pain and solitude. So when he saw a glimmer of love in Johnny’s eyes, he told him to love you fully. To give himself to you the way Simon had tried.

Simon and Johnny stayed in contact throughout the years. They occasionally worked together and talked when off duty. And during one of those casual meet-ups, you suddenly approached them, unexpectedly emerging from the crowd. But Simon couldn't, not with a clear conscience, claim that it was unexpected.

Perhaps it was a bit foolish of him to pick a coffee shop in your town, near your neighbourhood. But perhaps he hoped to catch a glimpse of you. Perhaps he prayed to be able to look you in the eyes again. Prayed for you to find your way back to him.

I got possessed by this idea in the middle of the night and had to write it down.

[beevean]

And finally we reached the end of the show. I'd almost be touched, if the finale didn't bore me to tears.

Also we skipped episode 7. Again. I wish we had skipped more episodes at this point.

I love how the last time I laughed at this scene:

and now I can laugh even harder because Nocturne completely retconned this stupid explanation!

(and I realized we never see vampires getting confused by crosses in the show either. Beautiful)

I still don't care about anything. But, of course, how could I ignore the best line of the show:

This is the "Wheres the DAMN fourth Chaos Emerald?" of NFCV. I love it. I tip my hat to such unbridled cringe <3

Not much to add about the epic reunion of the Trephacard gang. Alucard is still a cunt who hasn't earned the right to treat Trevor with snarky scorn. I still love how, for how hyped and shipped those three are, they don't even spend half of the runtime together, and when they do they are bitches to each other.

Death is still the character of all time, of course. I wish he'd be loyal to Dracula, like implied by the constant "he was one of the first people in Dracula's court", but I've long given up on the show giving any respect to the game characters. And yoohoo, Trevor got to do one thing without being portrayed as an idiot! Which is fighting a villain with barely any ties to him or the rest of the setting! He really is the funny penis man of NFCV.

As for Alucard... I just realized that the last time he saw his parents, they got trapped in the Rebis and experienced long minutes of terrible torment before exploding. And they, upon returning on Earth as themselves, simply decide to fuck off and "give him closure". Parents of the century. You know, now I'm even more insulted by Lisa deciding to leave her only son with the grief of the loss of both of his parents. As for my thoughts of Dracula and Lisa coming back, I explained why it was a terrible idea here, and how this ended up ruining Nocturne before it could even begin.

(that being said, the conversation between Alucard and Sypha when they still think Trevor is dead. It's touching, poignant and shows how they are willing to move on. But of course, the last episode was all about everyone not named Hector being as happy as possible, so Trevor couldn't stay dead.)

Of course, I have the most thoughts about Hector. (also rip isaac who peaced out in episode 6. not that i missed him but it's a noticeable absence)

I am suddenly struck with the realization that, after the show made so much noise about how cool Styria was for being a stable reign of four women, the story ends with the main "queen" killing herself out of insanity and the reign getting conquered and ruled by a stable man, possibly two (I don't really know Hector's role in Isaac's rule. Prince consort? lmao). But go ahead and tell me how woke this show is :)

Anyway. You know, after I watched Lenore's death, I am left here to think that maybe I do agree with Lenector shippers that they deserved better.

Oh, not because I wished that they'd live happily ever after having lots of BDSM sex and spawning adorable gray/redhaired dhampirs. But because, as characters, they were written so poorly that I'm still sad about the huge wasted potential.

Lenore's death is beautiful. I love the honest talk about strength and power, interesting but not pretentious. I love how Lenore's decision is triggered by Hector saying that "Power does nothing but eat. Like a vampire", which visibly horrified her. I love how, while Lenore puts emphasis that she won't live in a cage coming off as a hypocrite after what she has done, you can read the subtext that she refuses to live in the cage of her own vampirism, and risk becoming like Carmilla. I love how, after two hundred years of living in the night, she has the chance of seeing the sun again... and she chooses to instead look at Hector in the last seconds of her life, the only person who respected her and actually cared about her beyond what she could offer. And the music? Easily Trevor Morris' best composition in a soundtrack that is largely movie-like and forgettable. This scene is like Dracula's death: expertly crafted and moving, in a vacuum.

And then I remember that the rapist who brushed everything off with "I'm sorry for everything you went through" got to have more agency than her own victim, and I get angry again.

Hector shows so much love to Lenore. He never says it outloud, but it's so clearn in his expressions and gestures that it's almost touching. He takes her hand when she goes to sun herself. He emphasizes with a meaningful glance that he wants to lean about the beauty of things that live longer than he does. He's soft, and vulnerable, and caring. And what does he get in return? "I won't live in a cage, not even with you" said in a quick, dismissive tone. I'm just. This poor man.

The emblem of the absolute fuckery of this relationship is how Hector says "be free, Lenore" while clutching at his mutilated hand. The symbolism being that he, after suffering to achieve how own freedom, is accepting that Lenore finds her own, even if it can only be found in death.

Lenore is the reason he had to mutilate his hand to be free. And it's not like the show has forgotten this, "oh shush you were having fun". We are meant to forgive her for that. Hector has apparently completely forgiven her, and once again, this is the only growth he was allowed to do.

You know what? I will redirect you to this post I found: while I disagree with some parts, like "google for yourself what Ellis has done" or all the praising for S4 ("beautiful animation", jesse what the fuck are you talking about) and especially Isaac, this is an excellent breakdown of how offensively Hector and Alucard have been written. I wouldn't say that Hector has ended the show alone either, because he should have Isaac now, for how much he's worth... but it is a very unsatisfying conclusion to his character arc. As I said the previous time, he has suffered Hell without learning a thing. It was torture for the sake of torture. I grieve the potential of this character.

(on a lesser note, I want you to play Yakuza 0. Or, at the very least, watch Majima's cutscenes. If you want a poignant story of a dog breaking free of his cage, and his jailer who grows to respect him and whose death, despite the lack of catharsis, still hits you, then please play that game. I cannot overstate how immensely better written it is. Maybe one day I'll make a whole post how the relationship between Majima and Sagawa is literally what Hector and Lenore should have had.)

(oh, and Curse of Darkness, obviously. Please play Curse of Darkness. And read the prequel mangas. I implore you. I can assure you that game Hector is what y'all think show Hector is, but much better written. And Isaac is not just a caricature, he's an engaging tragic villain and he did not deserve the slander that he got because of Gary Stuaac here. And Trevor was already fleshed out in his games. All of the games are good, don't listen to game journalist shitting on them to praise this show.)

So, with all said and done... yes, it was painful. NFCV is simply not a good product to me, in any way. Not in the animation which has sharp drops in quality and is overall uncanny, the music which is generally forgettable, the plotlines which are uninteresting and sometimes recycled, the pacing which swings between glacial and rushed, the dialogue, the characterizations which are inconsistent and unpleasant, and even less the themes which are downright offensive to me. As you might have noticed, I stopped comparing it with the games halfway through, because it's not just a bad adaptation, it's a bad work that survives on rule of cool and fanservice, both the sexual kind and the "SEE WE PLAYED THE GAMES" kind. It's mind-numbing when it doesn't make my brain boil with rage. Overall, this rewatch left me sadder than the first time, because after a year, I have grown to see more of the potential buried underneath the lazy, insulting writing decisions.

All my respect to the fans who genuinely see something good in this, of course. But I will never understand your point of view.

Rewatching NFCV with @woodchipp and @the-crow-binary has been miserable so far.

Not because of them, of course: we all need each other to bear the Peak. but holy shit I forgot how mindnumbingly boring the show is. it's way worse at a second watch because now I know how much it falls apart! We're only at S2E3 as of this post!

S1 is the best season, and even that is largely forgettable, especially S1E3 which wastes 22 minutes of my life to say "here's the bishop. he's proof that CHURCH BAD". But S1E1 may be the best or second best episode of the whole show thanks to Dracula and his performance... and isn't that sad, that the show peaks at the very beginning? The rest of the show is just... Trevor doing his stuff (while the framing mostly makes fun of him), talking, some fighting, and CHURCH BAD. As positives, I still like Trevor's mini-arc in this season, and the vague effort to be faithful to CV3 (Sypha being petrified by a cyclops, falling down a chasm to find Alucard).

S2 is terrible. Yes we're still less than halfway through. I already hate everything.

I hate Alucard becoming a legend to the point that the Wallachians name his Alucard (as in, Dracula's opposite) after only a year - why couldn't he name himself Alucard? Why complicate matters so much? Isaac calling him Alucard, and Dracula recognizing the name, makes absolutely no sense: how do they know about it? Dracula lost contact with his son one year ago and I doubt Wallachian human legends have reached him. And Isaac was in the Sahara until sometime after Lisa died!

I hate Alucard himself. He's a cunt. He does nothing but insult Trevor and the Belmonts without provocation, and it's not funny banter, he's mean! He's genuinely cruel! He hears that Trevor lost his family at 12, and he can only say "lol and lmao I had more of a childhood than you. anyway they were mentally ill and child killers, they sacrificed chickens and hoarded dead cats". And this piece of shit is the most popular character of the show??? he's not even pretty what are y'all seeing 😭

(it's also weird how he's all angsting about killing his vampire father, but he hates the Belmont for being vampire hunters. bro. bro you're also about to hunt a vampire. why are you defending a race of monsters so staunchly. not even a hint of, I don't know, a Belmont hurting him when he was a child because he was confused for a full vampire? Remember that logically, a vampire child is a child turned into a vampire, we have no other indication that dhampirs are running all around the world. I know that in the games he seems fully on board with "vampires bad and me bad for being half vampire", but you have the chance of making it better and you squander it?)

Sypha is also ruder than I remembered. I think she suddenly became more cheerful in S3 and that's why I liked her, but also girl, you keep criticizing Trevor for being rude and not consoling you, but you look at him with a perpetual resting bitch face and insult the Morning Star calling it an "ugly thing"? Why does Trevor even bother with the likes of you? How is Trephacard the most popular ship in the franchise?

I hate Isaac. Oh, I gave him the benefit of the doubt back then, because I really wanted to understand why he became the fan favorite. But now? No, I'm sorry, he's overrated as fuck. He's so damn pretentious, his speech about how he wants a pure world without love is terrible from the lens of him being a Muslim who is devoted to the Devil, and his backstory is so tryhard and historically inaccurate that I almost prefer Hector's past being exposed through voiceover.

Oh, and Hector, I hate his scenes. Because he's actually treated with dignity. He's fine! I actually like the guy! I like the scene where he rebukes Godbrand (who as a character only exists to attract infodumps and to question Dracula) because "I have to work" - he sounds actually proud of his role, if not even competent, perish the thought. Also by reading the scripts online I forgot that he was the one who yelled "you do not question my loyalty!". Which I like a lot? I can hear the real Hector protesting like that out of pride, even if in private he would admit that he disagrees with the bloodshed. And the scene where he soothes the newborn Night Creature... yeah, this character used to be written with respect, and knowing how he gets tortured and disrespected and used for rape apologism by a sex pest hurts even more. Also, in retrospect, the scene where he stares at the fire while reminiscing about the day he set fire on his own childhood home doesn't go anywhere, even as the finale of S3 echoes it :^)

And Dracula, oh my poor man Dracula. He's already being presented as an ineffectual depressed old man spending his time staring at a fireplace, who can't even command his presence in the war room, who allows Carmilla to insult him and Lisa in front of everyone - it's so embarrassing how he gets the Red Eyes of Fury and then he simply... lets her go after he gets the flimsy explanation of "yeah I humiliated you because everyone is asking themselves the same question. I wanted to help <3" girl (Dracula), she's a mere regional ruler, as she herself said??? why do you need her so much that you allow her to do this shit??????? oh but then you posture to godbrand, he gets to be threatened because... he's not relevant to the plot i guess. fucking pathetic. what have they done to my man.

(and I hate Carmilla. but that has never changed. annoying smug ass #girlboss with the charisma of spoiled seafood. her way of manipulating Hector isn't even manipulation, it's just her telling him very plainly what she wants him to do. She and Lenore utterly suck at their job, and they only get their way because muh plot)

And then there's the infodumping. Oh my god these people won't shut the fuck up. Godbrand is like "why should we listen to two humans?" and Dracula dumps twice that he trusts Hector and Isaac for their human nature (which, again, it's a decent reasoning, but it goes on and on and even they should know, I get it). Alucard dumps about the apocalyptic scenario where Dracula wins and rules over a world without humans... but he only describes it as we look into his ugly face, instead of doing something more creative like actually showing what would happen. Hector gets this random flashback-through-sound, shoved there as if Ellis didn't know where to put it in the script; later on he explains to Carmilla the origin of Night Creatures, as if ever remotely matters. Isaac dumps about his jihadist philosophy about how by killing humans he and Dracula will create a pure world. Carmilla randomly reveals her Tragic Backstory after kicking Godbrand down the stairs, another scene I can't stand because it's all about what a #queen she is and how she's better than Dracula. At one point they seriously discuss about the myth of vampires unable to cross running water, which is a moot point anyway because Carmilla resorts to using a zombie bishop to bless the river!! No I will never let it go!!!

(also I love that in the one occasion where Alucard has the chance of describing his childhood, he retells the tale of Lisa meeting Dracula, something we've already seen and he was also obviously told about, not something he experienced himself. They couldn't even come up with another anedocte to actually tell us what kind of mother Lisa used to be. so lazy)

This show is half people sitting in a circle and talking, and half average fight scenes. Yeah at this point not even those impress me anymore. I'm serious when I say that Knuckles' fight scene in Divergence, also animated by Powerhouse Animation Studios, is of a better quality than what the show has offered.

And this is why I'm so reluctant to watch Nocturne. If the best seasons of this highly acclaimed show are so painful to sit through, how are we going to survive a sequel series that not even the fans liked it as much?

[infernalodie]

how about a cassie x older brother reader, where they were super close and he basically took up the role of being their fatherly figure and helped them and stuff, and cassie would never want to disappoint the reader as to her it would be the worst thing in the world. So the reader is in college and doesnt come around much bc they are super busy or something but they return home after hearing everything that happened with cassie and he isnt happy with her as he always saw her as his sweet little sister

I've been waiting for one of these. But I will add a little bit to it to give it more angsty and fluffy vibes

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 || 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

“𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵? 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨“

Inspo: Jacob Banks - Unknown (To You)

Pairing: Cassie Howard x olderbrother!reader

Summary: Cassie and Lexi had always seen you as a father figure. Both having picked out two sides of you that they have seen. You were the person they wanted to become when they got to your age. Cassie grew a bigger attachment to you, always leaning on you for guidance. So, when you leave for College, it tears her up. You came home less and less, even for holidays. But the one time she messes up, you show up suddenly and bring a world wind of emotions that Cassie hadn’t been prepared for.

(gif used is not mine)

Warnings: Major angst and fluffy near the end

Words 4360

You wouldn’t consider yourself the greatest brother to walk the earth, but you were damn near close to it. Despite not being able to make it home and slowly caring less to make yourself known to your sisters or mother, you always sent gifts with the left over money you had. Willing to show your love and appreciation to them from a large margin of distance. Because it at least showed that you hadn’t forgotten about them and still cared.

Because that’s all you have done for each of the women in that house. You have loved and cared for them. Being the care taker for all them. When your mom was too drunk to interact with Cassie and Lexi, you were there. Staying up late with Lexi, helping her with her homework until she inevitably passed out at the table with a pool of drool around her mouth. From there, you would carry her to her bedroom and tuck her in. With Cassie, you helped style her hair and pick out her outfits for each day of school. Being the supportive brother they needed.

And when you had been planning on leaving to College, you made sure to get your mom sober. Or at least lay off the heavy drinking because if you weren’t there, she had to care for them. Thankfully, she realized this and had taken the initiative to lay off and promise to not get that bad ever again. From what you had been able to gather while being away, she had followed through on that promise.

Everything had been good. Lexi and Cassie had been doing good in school. They had been growing up into young women and you always wore a shocked look when you came home to see them. Taking note to the fact that Cassie seemed to grow a few centimeters and Lexi’s ever growing love for plays. Often sitting there with a beer in hand as they told you all about the stuff going on in their lives.

Safe to say that you were very proud of both of them and you used every minute you had with them fully. Taking them out for diner or just going for a drive. Each holiday was amazing to them because they wouldn’t admit it, but you had become the parental figure to them. The father figure all three of you didn’t have because that rat bastard was probably off somewhere dead in an alley.

But they had taken notice to the fact that you were becoming more drowned in school work and your side job. Making the phone calls shorter, text messages bland, and the visits fewer. They didn’t hold it against you, but they did somewhat resent the fact that there wasn’t anything they could do to help you through it. But even then, you wouldn’t accept their help. Being the selfless person you had always been.

Something had changed. You had felt it all the way in New York. This sinking feeling in your stomach as your phone began to buzz on your coffee table. And that had been when you got the news about Cassie. Booking a flight took less than five minutes and it took you less than 30 minutes to get to the airport.

Suze had waited hours, barely getting any shut eye when you told her you were on your way home. She knew that when you got angry, there was a whole tsunami coming for the person in your path. And just the deep and frustrated tone in your voice from over the phone put her on edge.

Knock, knock, knock!

She practically sprinted over to the door and swung it open. Your tired features fixed into a deep scowl as you moved past your mother. “Where is she?”

“She’s living at Nate’s,” Suze sighed. “I don’t know how long she plans on staying there.”

You hum, scanning the house. Nothing had changed in the months of you not being home. If anything, the familiarity made you repulsed by it. Then again, it could just be your bad move influencing your true feelings.

The appreciation of your childhood home was short lived with footsteps grabbing your attention. Turning to find Lexi, who wore a large grin on her lips. “Y/n!”

For the first time in the past 10 hours, you smiled. Letting go of the handle of your suitcase and opened your arms. Your little sister ran at you and launched herself into your arms. A groan slipped out of your lips as you held her tightly against her.

“Hey there, Loo Loo,” you chuckled. “Good to see you too.”

“Why are you home?” She mused, hopping down to stand in front of you. “I thought you had midterms coming up soon?”

“I do,” you sighed, exasperated. “But I need to talk to our mess of a sister.”

“Oh, she’s at Nate’s place.”

“Yeah.” You jutted your thumb over your shoulder towards your guys’ mother. “Mom told me. When I get back, you can tell me everything going on in your life. I think I’ll be here for a week or so.”

Lexi nodded with a smile, bringing you into another hug that made you smile softly. It felt like forever since you’ve had this type of love and affection. There was something wrong with you for depriving you of this. From receiving love and affection from the people that loved you dearly. You had your own problems, mentally, that had restrained you from even attempting to make any effort to come see your sisters or mother for the past few months.

Suze and Lexi offered to get you set up in your old bedroom while you did what you needed to do. Which also meant, “Get your sister back here, all means necessary.” And you obliged to do so by taking out your old truck that your mother kept in the garage where you raced over to the Jacobs household.

Travelling across town had been fast. Mainly because of the fact that you were dean near speeding through each stop sign and drowned in your own thought. Trying to put together the perfect scolding you could for your sister and not break her down to a sobbing and incoherent mess.

You loved Cassie. You did, truly. But there was a certain line you had set with her and guys. And it wasn’t the super overprotective brother bullshit. No, it was the blatantly obvious one. Don’t fuck your best friends ex.

It felt like you had drilled into both Cassie’s and Lexi mind since they were 14. You had no problem with dating. In fact, you encouraged them to go out there and be who they wanted to be because you would always love them the same. But the line Cassie didn’t just cross one line. She cross ever single fucking one you had laid out.

So, as you walked up the path towards the Jacobs front door, you were trying to keep your cool. Keep the protective side restrained in thick chains and pulled down to the deepest and darkest corner of your heart. While also trying to put together the right words for Cassie to understand.

Knocking on the door, you waited patiently until it finally opened. Cal Jacobs standing at the doorway with a raise brow. “Can I help you?”

“Cassie Howard is here,” you said simply. “I’m her brother Y/n. I need her here so I can take her home.”

But right before the man could speak, the most disgusting sound you never wanted to hear had sounded out through the house.

Cassie moaned.

She fucking…moaned!

That had been the final straw for you as you stormed inside the house. “Kid, if you fucking break anything or touch my son, I’ll call the police!”

“No worries, Cal,” you huffed. “It won’t count as touching him when I break his knees with a bat.”

Storming up the stairs, you walked in the direction of the sounds coming from your sister. Wanting nothing more than to have white noise blasting in your ears instead. But it just worse when you finally stopped outside the room as she was damn near screaming.

Slamming your fist against the door, you growled, “Cassie, get your ass downstairs and out to car or I’ll come in there and break Nate’s fucking head open!” And with that threat left to hang in the air, you walked away and past Cal who stared at you in shock.

You were fuming and your blood was boiling over the fucking brim. It was hard not to just punch something whilst you awaited in your truck. Fingers tapping against the steering wheel impatiently.

But right when you were about to get out grab your sister, her quick footsteps could be heard. Head bowed low in shame as she climbed inside. She felt your eyes burn holes in the side of her head for a few moments before you growled in annoyance.

“You better have a fucking amazing explanation when we get home.” She didn’t respond, not even with a nod. Sitting silently throughout the drive.

She hoped that you would cool off by the time you guys got home. Showed her some type of mercy considering you have been away for almost a year. But she was wishing upon stars at that point because she knew how aggravated you were right now. Just the atmosphere in the air told enough.

And damn, those parental pants hadn’t changed one damn bit since you were gone. It felt so natural and Cassie was unsure if she was glad for it or hating it. But she was glad that you were home, if that even mattered at this point.

When you two arrived at the house, Cassie followed behind you. Scared to even speak in fear that the pent up anger building inside you would burst. It was already reaching its capacity and there was no stopping anyone on the receiving end of it.

Entering, Cassie could even get a breath out before you were glaring at her. “Want to explain what the fuck has happened in the past 2 days?”

Cassie watched as you moved around her and into the kitchen. Silently, she followed and sat at the table as you grabbed yourself a bear. She played with her nails, unsure of how she was supposed to respond.

When no response came, you turned to her and pushed your arms out by your side, indicating you expecting an answer. “Cassie, I have no problem sitting here and waiting all night until you give me an answer.”

“Okay,” she whined. “Maddy and Nate were broken up. Lexi and I got into a fight while we were going to a party and-“

“What were you two fighting about?” You asked, eyes flickering to Lexi, who stood near the doorway.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Cassie finalized tone, stopping Lexi from even speaking was enough for you.

Sighing as you glanced at you mom. “You can go to bed,” you reassured. “I’ve got this. Lexi, sit down because I have feeling that your sister is going to include you somehow.”

Right when Cassie was about to protest, you raised your hand, silencing her. “I don’t want to hear it, Cassie,” you said, sliding into a seat. “Just continue with your story.”

“Anyways, we got into a fight and I got out of the car,” she explained. “Long story short I got a ride to the party with Nate and we fucked.”

Your face scrunched up at the mention of your sister having sex. You don’t think you would ever get used to that.

“And Rue snitched on you to Maddy?”

“Yes!”

“Good.”

There was no explaining the pure look of shock and confusion on Cassie’s face from your simple tone. Especially when you casually took a sip from her beer.

Noticing the look, you raised a brow in question. “What do you want me say, Cass?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” she stammered. “Maybe fucking defend me or something.”

“What is there to defend?” You asked. “You did not only break one rule of mine, but the whole fucking book! And you want me to defend you? Are you fucking high?”

You didn’t mean to be so mean. You knew how sensitive both your sisters were and you knew how badly Cassie could react. But there was no nice way for you to just dance around the problem. Diving in head first was the only way you saw yourself doing this. If Cassie didn’t like that then she didn’t but you sure has hell don’t regret it.

When all you got was silence, you motioned to Lexi, who sat opposite of you. “Do you see your sister going and fucking…” You snapped your fingers, looking to Lexi. “Who’s Rue’s ex?”

“Jules.”

“Jules!” You exclaimed, going right back into your rant. “No, you don’t because she’s learned from what I’ve told and raised you two to be. Women. Actual women who didn’t go and fuck their best friends ex.”

“They weren’t dating!”

“If I kidnapped a child but didn’t hurt them, does that make it okay to the point where the parents will forgive me?” You asked rhetorically as Cassie stared at you with pursed lips. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared back you. Hating the fact that your anger and frustration had met it’s wits end that she couldn’t even hope for you stop.

“Of course not because I still fucking kidnapped the kid!” You exclaimed with a wave of your hand. “Just like how you backstabbed Maddy and fucked a psycho piece of shit guy!”

Her lack of voice did make your heart uneasy. When you used to give her these talks, she would speak up for herself. Perhaps she understood where she messed up. But if she did, you wanted confirmation. Not just a quiet sister, who cried under your scolding gaze.

But you couldn’t blame her for feeling a way. You had always held a soft spot for both Lexi and Cassie, maybe Cassie a bit more just because how she reacted. Nonetheless, whenever they did something like this and started crying, you did feel a pain of regret for speaking to them like this. Having them in tears just because you’ve practically raised them. You were the father figure to them that they never truly had.

All you could really acknowledge with Cassie was the fact she had taken her freedom a step too far. Drinking in her freedom like it was wine and spending it like she was rich, which she very much wasn’t. You just couldn’t understand what happened to the sweet girl, who always passed out right next to you on the couch countless nights.

“I don’t know what happened to you Cassie in the time for me leaving, but I don’t like it,” you stated. “It makes me almost believe that nothing I have done or ever said even mattered.”

Everything she had done had been because of you. She adored you every second of every day. She loved you more than the entire world and everything in it. Cassie looked up to you as a beacon of hope and as much as she hated disappointing you, it had been your fault she turned out this way.

For too long, she had been walking over eggshells hoping not to disappoint you, but there was always something that would piss you off. She’d had enough and wanted to do something for herself. People change and people grow and that had been your mistake to think she would stay as the innocent little girl you helped raise.

“I think you forget that you left and abandoned us,” Cassie spat. “People change, Y/n. Especially when you don’t care enough to try and visit.”

“Cassie!” Lexi exclaimed, but her sister was too far gone.

“You’re a fucking dick, Y/n!” Cassie moved out of her chair and marched towards you. “All I have ever done is adore you and loved you. You stopped caring about all of us the instant you left and we can all fucking see it. You stopped needing us when you started showing up less. I fucking hate you and wish you would drop dead!”

Your eyes slightly widened with your sobbing sister turning around running up to her bedroom. A heavy and regretful cloud hovering over you as you stared at the ground silently. Nibbling on your bottom lip with a tiny nod, blinking rapidly.

Lexi didn’t know what to say. In a small and proportion, she did agree with Cassie. But only for the fact that you shouldn’t have expected them stay the same as when you last saw them. They would have to break your rules once and a while and just hope you didn’t catch word.

But she didn’t know what to do or say when you silently stood to your feet. Chugging the rest of your drink and placing it on the counter. Clearing your throat as your eyes flickered to Lexi. It had only been for a moment, but it was enough for her to see the sparkling tears running down your cheeks.

“You should…” You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Um, you should get some sleep, Loo Loo.”

Silently, she obliged by your word and got up to her feet. But before she could leave, you caught her arm. Wrapping your arms around her where she melted and hugged you tightly. Face burying into your chest with handful grabbing at the back of your shirt.

You pressed a kiss to the crown on her head. Rubbing a comforting hand and up down her back. Which was pretty funny just because she was worried about you, but you were the one comforting her. As per usual, you didn’t let others comfort you even when you likely needed it.

“I love you, Lexi,” you muttered against her. “ I love you and Cassie so much.“

She could feel the wet tears hitting her scalp. Each one she felt made her heart clench, pulling you closer without realizing. “We know, Y/n,” she assured. “We know and we love you too. Cassie has just been tough for everyone in the past few weeks.”

Her reassurances carried on until you were at ease and urging her to bed. This time, she did listen and pulled herself away and gave you the space you needed. You didn’t dare risking the chance of going upstairs just by the chance of running into her.

Once upon a time, the three of you, there was a bond that was unbreakable. When you went over something, surely enough, they were hastily following. They did love you and adore you for everything you did for them and image they had placed on you.

And it was now, moments like this when you could just find your dad and beat him to a bloody pulp for leaving. For placing all this weight on to be the father figure your sisters didn’t need. Because let’s be honest, you weren’t it. You weren’t the right person to be taken as inspiration from and used.

It didn’t feel right with you. Not when you consciously tried avoiding your family during holidays. Making up bullshit excuses like you were spending it with a girlfriend. Which you didn’t have because your stressed out mind wouldn’t be able to add another weight to the pile.

They just didn’t understand the type of weight they had placed on you. The unbearable and tiring weight that left you a crying mess every single day. It had been nothing but you caring about them. You wanted to selfish and relieve yourself from that weight a little longer.

But now being back, placing it back on your shoulders and having Cassie back hand comment, you just realized that you couldn’t be selfish. With how long you’ve been gone, it had taken an effect on her. Probably much worse than Suze and Lexi combined.

Which is why you avoided any interaction with the three women for the remainder of the night. Finding your place of relaxation to be on the couch watching TV. A beer bottle in hand as you blinked tiredly. Silently debating on driving over to Fezco’s and buying some weed off him.

“Hey.” Cassie’s voice nearly made you jump out of your spot. Finding her standing near the doorway with large sweater and sweatpants. Hair unkempt in a naturally beautiful way she had always been able to rock since she was a kid. It looked adorable.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Hey,” you greeted. “What’s up? You need something? Want me to drive and grab you something?”

Still the caring brother, Cassie thought as she shook her head from your questions. “Can I sit with you?” She asked nervously. “I can’t sleep.”

You hummed, scooting over to give her some space. She filled that open space and instinctively leaned against you and you automatically wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

A heavy and blank silence fell over the two of you as you guys just watched TV. Honestly, you were unsure of what to say to her. You had said your piece when she got home and already showed your lack of comfort with her being with Nate. But you knew she wouldn’t listen. Once you were gone, she would go running back to him and you had to accept that.

But you did feel like she was doing it to get your attention. It may have not turned out the way she wanted, but you had a feeling she just wanted you to come back and talk to her. Hell, she may have easily been satisfied with a phone call. Nothing she had done had gotten your guys’ mom to call you. So, while she had broken your rule because she did like Nate, she also had you in mind. But that’s what you thought at least.

“You know what I realized, Cass?” You finally spoke and she hummed in response. “It’s not about justifying your existence. It’s not. It’s about you being so scared and so selfish that you have to break me down.”

At that point, Cassie had already felt the back of her eyes stinging with a new fresh water fall of tears. “Second guess everything I do,” you continued. “Am I good brother? Am I showing enough love to my sisters? Can I do this without them? I don’t know. I better ask Cassie. Maybe she’ll know the answer. Where’s Cassie? I need Cassie. Did you like the gift? Was it good? Yeah, I think so too.”

“God forbid I’m secure enough with what I have done for you two and mom that I don’t need to be here every time you mess up,” you said. “Your whole outbursts of me not being here. About me not caring about you guys because I showed up less. Or that I stopped needing you. You just need a reason to be needed. To be cared for and loved like I used to when you were just a kid.”

“Can we leave this conversation alone?” Cassie whispered, pulling away from you. Trying to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

But before she could get far, you caught her hands in yours and turned to her. “Because if I don’t need you Cassie, what the hell am I still doing keeping it contact with any of you?” You asked. “You want control because you can’t imagine the idea that I still show up is because I love you.”

Your own tears began to peak through the brims of your eyes. Sniffling as you shook your head. “I just love you, Cass.” At that point, Cassie propelled herself into your chest and broke down in sobs. You wrapped your arms around her tightly as pressed your cheek to the side of her head. “I don’t need you. But I love you because you don’t see what I see. You don’t see that people love and care for you just like I do. That there’s someone somebody on this planet that just loves you.”

If Cassie was being honest, she wasn’t used to this type of affection. It had worn off over the months of you being gone. With it coming back in full swing, it broke her down into a million pieces. And there you were. Helping pick up the pieces and reassembling everything you could.

“I love the way your mind works, Cassie,” you whispered. “I do. I love the way you see the world. I love the way you think. Your instincts. And I am so fucking grateful for having been able to help you raise you with Lexi. Because everything we’ve been through...that’s what’s made you you. The girl who helped me steal food from the store. The girl who cheered me on when I beat Aaron Jacobs ass. The girl that I love and the girl I fuck with.”

A sob racked your body as Cassie clung onto you tighter. “And I’m sorry, you know?” You cried. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I apologized to mom, but I know that I should’ve said it to you and Lexi. I know I fucked up, but I’m trying to do better for the both of you. I’m not the best brother, but I am trying for you.”

Cassie pulled away, pulling your head into her shoulder. Allowing you to let out every regretful emotion and pent up tear that had been held back in New York. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For making you mad at me. I just wanted to do something for myself and it’s my fault.”

You didn’t respond, clinging onto her for dear life. And the night stayed like that, both of you holding onto one another. So much had been let out that night. Way more than either expected. But it was all out there, giving an insight on the other’s thoughts and past regrets. It only drew the both of you closer.

[benwvatt]

Grey’s Anatomy Has a Toxic Workplace Problem in Season 18 - aka why everyone keeps bullying Meredith into staying in Seattle

(Why is no one talking about this???)

Read my grey’s anatomy meta on ao3! Same format but I would love hear your thoughts

I can’t believe my biggest gripe with Grey’s season 18 is… fair labor practices? I mean, it’s usually more soap-opera stuff. Dead fiances come to life, disappearing girlfriends, surprise pregnancies, etc. etc.

But I keep seeing the same subtle problems arise. I’m going to call this the Webber-Bailey-Fox problem, because it seems that the ‘leaders’ of Grey Sloan Memorial are the most egregious and at fault. In short, why on earth do Webber, Bailey, and Catherine act as if the entire fate of this hospital hinges upon Meredith? Why won’t they let her leave for Minnesota?

She’s a famous surgeon who works there, not a goddess. The hospital isn’t going to magically disappear into dust and shadows if she moves to another state with her kids. If other key characters who are part of the Grey’s universe (Cristina, Alex, Jackson, Arizona, April, Callie, etc.) are allowed to move away and find new jobs, why do her bosses keep guilt-tripping Meredith into staying?

In general I’d give Season 18 a B+. In general my rule about TV is ‘keep watching if you’re having fun. Quit if you’re not!’ and I enjoy spending each Friday morning watching last night’s episode of Grey’s. I thought that many parts of S18 (like the introduction of Kai! Or letting us explore Bailey’s burnout and Maggie’s marriage to Winston!) were handled delicately. But at the same time, Webber, Bailey, and Catherine 一 mostly Webber and Bailey, obviously, since they’re series regulars 一 are just being manipulative toward Meredith.

Again and again on Grey’s, we see management whining whenever people don’t agree with them. In season 2ish, when Bailey considered switching from general to pediatric surgery, Webber was consistently whiny and cruel to her. He acted like she was throwing her career down the drain for changing. Bailey also sort of did this when Jo switched to OBGYN, and when Ben decided to become a firefighter instead of continuing his residency.

The Grey’s timeline is a bit wonky since seasons 1-3 take place during intern year (which I assume is 12 months), but I’d wager Meredith’s literally been working at this hospital for 16 years, give or take. She had her children here. She lost her husband. She dated and re-realized what it means to find love after loss. Is it so wicked and awful that she might want to move to Mayo Clinic instead of growing old and (pardon my pun) grey in Seattle?

During all of season 18, Webber and Bailey are just awful to Meredith. They treat her like a traitor and whine that she isn’t being ‘loyal’ to the hospital where she grew up (reminder: Meredith literally grew up here. Ellis trained at Seattle Grace and there are flashbacks of Meredith as a 6-year-old walking the halls.) If it’s indeed true that Meredith has lived much of her entire life in this one building, why on earth do her bosses keep manipulating her into staying? This is a textbook hostile work environment and it’s so puzzling that no characters in the Grey’s universe are acknowledging it.

A workplace culture where your bosses call you ‘disloyal’ for wanting to submit your 2 weeks’ notice is… not good. No wonder Meredith wants to leave if Webber and Bailey, who are supposedly her old friends and mentors, are so willing to turn on a dime and snarl insults at her.

Don’t even get me started on this Accreditation Council Lady in the finale, who acts as if Meredith’s departure is a key reason why the hospital is unstable. Sure, I assume Mer is good at bringing in fundraising money and good PR (and I know Council Lady feels that she’s been lied to so she’s lashing out), but Mer’s just the chief of general surgery. There are plenty of good general surgeons who can take her place.

And I know, the show is called Grey’s, not Pierce’s or Shepherd’s Anatomy. We all know Meredith is important. But it feels cruel to tell Meredith that she matters so that we can guilt-trip her into staying at Grey Sloan instead of moving away. When does it end? Will Meredith be tied in one place and forced to work at the hospital forever just because they can’t afford to lose her? What kind of awful workplace is this, where you aren’t allowed to leave because people seem to need you too badly? It’s kind of like a desperate boyfriend or girlfriend who refuses to let you break up with them because “they’ll fall apart without you.”

This is an incredibly toxic position from Webber and Bailey, and it makes me dislike them. They’ve been written so oddly this season, acting as if they’re gods who are above criticism and flaw. Their inability to recognize their own flaws is actually the reason they keep hurting the people around them.

So the Minnesota plotline may have its flaws (I’ll get to that later! What on Earth does Mer actually do at Mayo?) but it’s Meredith’s right to leave if she wants to. It’s not like she’s signed some lifetime contract or a blood oath tying her to one place. She’s successful, she’s excited to travel and spend more time with Nick, and the city of Seattle is always going to be haunted in some part because of Derek’s death. Why shouldn’t she get to leave? Why are Webber, Bailey, and Catherine allowed to intimidate and jeer at Meredith? Why do they feel entitled to her time and work? It’s starting to feel like Bailey and Webber are just bad bosses. If you can’t handle the fact that your employees may get a better offer and leave you, you shouldn’t be an employer.

[storyknitter]

Confession

A heaviness filled the room in Castle Organa. Despair and loss filtered through the air like dust on the breeze.

“I think it’s time I stop this insanity,” Theron murmured. He sat hunched over the desk in his room, maps and lists strewn about, his head buried in his hands.

Vassanna looked up from mending her gambeson, uncertain she had heard him correctly. “Stop what?” she asked. Unease settled in the pit of her stomach: she had a bad feeling about this.

“We are out-manned and out-weaponed.” He looked up at her, dropping his hands to the table. “The king has servants and spies everywhere. Our every step has been dogged by his people and death has followed in our wake.”

The destruction of Uphrades last week had hit them both hard: the people of the town had joyously welcomed them, offering food and a place to stay. Eager to aid the prince in his bid to remove the Shadow King from power, a small feast to laud their future liberators had been hastily prepared and enjoyed by all.

The king had sent his armies and mages to destroy the town a day later, and only by the sacrifice of the innkeeper were she and Theron able to escape alive.

“What are you saying?” Vassanna asked softly.

“I’m saying that I will no longer lead this rebellion.” Theron’s response was dull and hollow, his forlorn gaze reflecting the gloom in his heart. “I cannot bear more losses for my sake.”

She had learned during their travels that, though he was witty and irreverent, he had a gentle heart; it seemed this new grief had broken it. 

What could she say that would make it better? Nothing she could do could bring those people back. The only thing to do was hope that they were in a better place and make their deaths worth it, make it worth something by removing the Shadow King.

“Theron, do you truly believe that if you stop fighting, there will be no more losses, no more death by the king’s hand?”

“Perhaps.”

To her mind, ‘perhaps’ wasn’t good enough; to justify stepping aside, he needed to be completely certain. 

“How many lives has he destroyed to remain in power? It will only continue!” She stood, setting aside her gambeson, trying to control her anger and frustration; the only ones who stood to benefit from the Shadow King remaining in power were the small group of cronies who did his bidding without question.

“Not if I tell the kingdom to—

“You would have us bow to him? Never!” she snarled, pacing back and forth, stalking the room. “Someone else will step up to lead if need be, but you are the rightful king.” Her finger pointed at him accusingly. “You are the one the people will rally behind.”

“Yes, they will, and they have,” he hissed. “And they’ve paid the price for it—too high a price!”

“No, you can’t give up!” she cried. “You must do this. Don’t you see what lengths he’s willing to go to, just to remain in power?” She gestured around, pointing out her damaged armor, the lists of dead and captured, the maps depicting the spread of the vile king’s influence, before dropping her hands to her sides. 

“You’re our only hope,” she whispered.

“It’s too much.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I’m one person. How can I hope to fix all that he’s destroyed, all that he’s corrupted?” 

“With help! From me, from advisors and others that you trust. From the Sentinels. No matter what you think, there is no way on this earth that you can possibly be a worse king than Tenebris,” Vassanna said, choking on the lump in her throat. Did Theron truly have so little faith in himself? He must see reason. Surely he knew all the evil deeds the king had done to those in this kingdom.

“Will you murder people who speak out against you?” she asked. Theron looked aghast as she continued, the volume of her voice growing with each question. “What about to stay in power: who will you kill to keep yourself as ruler? What about the innocents who happen to be in the way? Will you threaten them, murder them, if they become inconvenient?”

She was shouting now, shaking with rage at Tenebris and his crimes, as well as desperation: Theron couldn’t walk away now, their people needed him on the throne instead of the current monster. She needed the Shadow King gone and a kinder, more honorable ruler in place. Theron had been her hope that it could happen, and that she could help bring about change for the better. “Would you turn to blood magic, twisting people to your will? You would abandon these people who need you because you fear for their safety. What safety do they have now?”

“Blood magic?” Theron’s voice was faint, shock and surprise clear on his features. “How do you know he uses blood magic?”

Her stomach dropped and she froze: she had revealed too much. What parts of her past could she tell him and still keep his respect? He was too clever by far; he’d see through any lies she tried to spin and would want a full explanation.

“Vassanna?” His voice grew hard, insistent. “How do you know?”

Memories she’d tried desperately to forget flooded her view. Their accompanying screams of pain and terror drowned out his words, blending into the ringing in her ears. Shame and horror swept through her. Oh, gods, he can’t know, she couldn’t tell him—what would he think of her? She couldn’t meet his gaze, her vision fixed firmly in the past.

“It hurt, you know.” The words slipped out in a whisper before she could stop them, bottled up as they had been for so long. “Fighting his control, trying to break free. It hurt.”

Her voice broke. She wrapped her arms tight around herself to keep from shattering along with it. If he must know what happened, she could at least reassure him that she had tried to resist, to fight back.

Oh stars above, it was too much. She couldn’t breathe.

Crossing quickly to the open window in his room, she rested her shaking hands on the sill, taking large gulps of fresh air.

Just tell him and get it over with; that was the only thing to do. Squaring her shoulders, Sanna took one more deep breath and gathered her courage.

“A year or so ago, Provost Marshall Tol Braga and the Sentinels received credible intelligence that two of the king’s closest advisors would be vulnerable at Arkanis Fortress, where they had gathered to plot against us.” The words came out wooden, stilted, but she confessed them nonetheless. “A small strike team was dispatched to capture or kill them, capture preferred. I was selected for the team, which was a great honor. But by the time we realized our informant had been compromised, it was too late.”

She spoke of her team: caught in the trap and subsequently ensnared by the Shadow King's blood magic. How he had bent them all to his will. How she had struggled in vain for months, committing foul deeds as he commanded.

How she was broken.

How one of the King’s own men had severed the hold on her and helped her escape. How her new mission became the rescue of her lost team.

(She left out the part where, though she had succeeded in bringing her team home, none of them had quite regained the complete trust and acceptance enjoyed before their capture. The bond joining the four of them to the Sentinels was tarnished now, rusted and worn thin in places.)

Leaning against the windowsill, Vassanna watched as the sun set, a perfect reflection of her life with the Sentinels—and her time with Theron: ending in a blinding blaze. The silence weighed heavy between them.

Setting aside dreams of atonement, of retribution against Tenebris by placing his rival on the throne herself, she cleared her throat.

“The Organa lands are well-protected, the castle doubly so. You’ll be safe here until Orgus can send a replacement guard.” Somehow she kept her voice steady, still avoiding Theron’s gaze.

“Replacement?”

She couldn’t quite read the tone in his voice, but didn’t trust herself to look at him.

“It may take him a few days, but as I said, you’ll be safe here. And Orgus will understand your request for a new bodyguard.” Sanna swallowed hard. “As will I.”

“Why do I need a new guard? Are you quitting?”

She turned around, confused. “Did you not hear anything I said to you?”

“Yes. I heard that you were captured by the enemy while on a dangerous mission, you were made to comply against your will.” Theron ticked off the list on his fingers as he continued. “You managed to escape, went back to free your cohort, and are still one of the best damn Sentinels we’ve got.” He shifted his weight to the side, crossing his arms on his chest. “What part did I get wrong?”

Theron left out the part where he wanted to hunt down each of her captors, to hurt them as they’d hurt her. He didn’t think it would help the situation, though.

She stared blankly ahead, confusion writ plain on her features, and he continued with his reassurance.

“Orgus trusts you with both my life and the future of this kingdom. That alone would have been more than enough for me.” He took a slow step towards her—she looked as skittish as a deer—and took her cool hands, still trembling, into his own. “I have trusted you with my life since I met you,” Theron continued softly, “and that trust only grows each day.”

It wasn’t often that a person bared their soul, especially so painful a portion, to another so completely and he’d never felt so humbled.

“I’m not certain that ‘thank you’ is the right thing to say, but thank you for trusting me in return.” He ran a hand up her arm, thumb brushing her shoulder in encouragement. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze and concern—worry—tightened its grip on his chest. He cradled her face in his hand. “Vassanna?”

“It doesn’t bother you?” she whispered, brows furrowed. “How can it not bother you?”

“Well, of course it bothers me,” Theron started, but paused as her features went blank, her jaw clenching. Had she flinched away from his remark? Choosing his next words cautiously, he forged ahead. “It bothers me that you suffered through that ordeal, that you were hurt.”

Sanna glanced up finally, finally and he found surprise in her wide violet eyes. Stars above, he could get lost in those eyes, but now they were glistening, filling with tears. Words failed him, and in their stead, he pressed his lips gently, tenderly to her forehead before pulling her close and holding her safe in his arms.

[redrobin-detective]

Ok, I’ve tried and tried and tried to write this fic because I see it so clearly in my mind but it’s just not going no matter what I do. But I don’t want the idea to die with me. The closest this came to being written was exile which was an attempt to bleed out some of the energy of this au.

Anyway, so it starts off vaguely similar to canon only more aggressive. There had been underlying tension between ghosts and humans for a while, the dead jealous/angry at the living for disrespecting them. The successful creation of the Fenton ghost portal (and another halfa) was considered an act of war and so the ghosts responded in kind. So basically all of S1 occurs fairly close to canon except ghost attacks are more violent and have increasingly more consequences as time passes. Also the attacks aren’t just in Amity Park with ghosts becoming a worldwide issue but Amity is a focal point. Regular people know the ghosts hate them though they don’t know why. Phantom is very much a controversial figure as he is a ghost but also clearly is fighting off the more violent ghosts. 

One day, not long after the events of Control Freaks, Amity Park wakes up to find three of their own are gone. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley are nowhere to be found. There’s a massive manhunt, the parents go on TV and beg for information but they cannot be found. Curiously enough, town hero Phantom was also missing. There’s some evidence they left of their own volition so the Mansons and Foleys eventually relent that the kids fled on their own. The Fentons are 100% certain the kids were stolen/killed by ghosts as a statement. And the fact that Phantom went missing around the same time means he was the one who killed them. Jazz knows Danny was Phantom but had no idea what was going on and knew her parents wouldn’t listen she just, kept quiet and privately tried to piece together what happened. 

Three years pass and finally it looks like the Ecto War is coming to a close. Young, naive ghosts attempted to raise Pariah Dark in a bid to win. It went disastrously but Phantom (who was periodically spotted around the world, deep in the worst battles of the war) and group of loyal allies subdued the king. By the law of ghosts, Phantom was named heir apparent and he declared that the fighting would stop. Humans and ghosts would have to negotiate and co-exist in peace. But he’s not king yet, no he needs to be crowned at the place where it began, Amity Park’s Fenton portal (”where it all began” has a double meaning of the beginning of the war but also symbolically where Phantom began as Kings assume the crown where their living life ended to show their abandonment of their first life and the commitment to their second). Amity is NOT happy to hear that their former hero is coming home.

Amity has been through the wringer, ghost attacks got pretty bad. The Fenton’s throw themselves into their work to cancel out the grief, they create a group of ghost hunters nicknamed the Reds (for their red blood, ghosts are nicknamed Greens) to control the threat. Valerie heads the young adult division and is considered one of the best, she drops out of school to devote herself to it full time. Oh also her dad is now the Mayor as most have died or didn’t want the job. There are still people who like Phantom and see him as a hero (a lot of Casper Kids) but it’s generally an unpopular opinion in town. Maddie and Jack are ready to obliterate the ghost that took their son’s life the moment he’s within city limits. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. It all comes to a head when Phantom and his entourage arrive.

First off, Phantom looks very different, much less human looking than when he left. He’s clearly aged like a normal teen but his eyes look much, much older.  His skin is dead white with a blue tinge to it from his ice core and his aura is super cold. His hair is longer and is very misty that kind of swirls around him and his has fangs and claws. When he’s deep in battle or his obsession, his sclera turn black and he looks scary af. His entourage is ghosts who have sworn loyalty to him, who he picked up along the way after battling beside them for 3 years. Fright Knight, Skulker and Frostbite are recognizable allies. They are not happy that their future King is back in Amity (secretly fearing they’ll lose him once more to his human life). J&M have a shot and are going for the kill when they see something that shocks them; Sam and Tucker are in Phantom’s entourage.

There had been whispers that Phantom interacted with humans, that humans were in his inner circle but this is something else together. And so are Sam and Tucker. Sam is Phantom’s General, she is talented and collected and half feral. She used to be a pacifist but the trials of war and understanding that peace sometimes needs to be fought for made her compromise. She’s covered in scars and an extremely talented fighter. She’s missing her right hand up to her forearm, she can form a ‘phantom limb’ (basically borrowing ectoplasm from her future ghost) to do some things with some powers. Tucker is the support, he uses human and ghost tech to organize, weaponize and generally keep things running. He’s covered in homemade tech (shields and weapons and computers) and he rarely removes. Both he and Sam have kinda forgotten how to interact with and really BE human after so long among the dead. They had attempted to conceal themselves but they had forgotten how strong parental love and recognition is. J&M want to know about Danny, the teens don’t know how to respond but assure them he’s alive. Phantom can’t bring himself to look at them.

This is where I start to lose track of things but there will be parallels of Valerie/Maddie vs Sam as female warriors on opposite sides who are willing to go behind, possibly compromising the things important to them, for victory. Tucker will be contrasted against Jack/Jazz as the one making weapons but also generally keeping the human parts of the team mentally/physically afloat. *Severe* PTSD for all three of them. They’re also unnaturally codependent on each other, get super anxious when one of the trio is out of sight and sleep in a big cuddle pile. They will fucking Kill You if you look at one of them wrong. Vlad will be involved, he had been jailed for war crimes but convinced Walker to stage a coup to overthrow Danny and take the crown before he’s actually declared King and is too powerful. Vlad is more unhinged here, more ghost than human (a hint on what could happen to Danny if he’s not careful). He is eventually defeated but he sacrifices his life for ghost power which, in the end, is what makes him able to be beaten.

 There’s lots of ideas on what it means to be live or dead and where the divide really is, is it a heartbeat or it is how you choose to use your existence. On how duty shouldn’t mean you need to give up everything. Because Jack and Maddie believe that Phantom killed their son and, in a way, they’re right. Before they left, the ghost war had gotten so bad and the rumors of Dark being resurrected were going around. Amity attacks were at an all time high, people in their school were being killed just because Danny went there. He realized he had to choose between Fenton or Phantom and he chose to protect the world. He abandoned his human identity and went off to fight in war. Tried to convince Sam and Tucker to stay but they followed him through hell and back. Because Danny spends so much time as Phantom, Fenton is severely neglected. His long hair is cool and floaty as Phantom but is unkempt and stringy, hanging in his face as Fenton. He’s wan and underweight and looks like a walking corpse. He knows his human half will give out soon if he doesn’t give it more attention but he just can’t there’s too much to do, too many people to save.

It would end with Danny being outed to the town, not the world, just the town. Jack and Maddie need to recon with the fact that their boy DID leave of his own choice but only because their failure to protect him (from both the portal and ghosts) made him feel he had to take all this responsibility on his shoulders. Danny also has to recognize that he (and Sam/Tuck) can’t do all this on their own and they can trust and rely on the people around him. Phantom is crowned King but he decides Amity will be his base. The trio eat more, sleep some, catches up on school all the while continuing their duties as King and court. The ghosts also see that Phantom’s humanity isn’t a weakness but a strength and will bring peace to the Earth/Zone so they also take some of the burdens off his shoulder. 

Basically I load up heavily with angst at the beginning and end with all the love and comfort imaginable. I just can’t fucking figure out the middle and my motivation will not let me write this shit out. But I can’t let this AU die bc it fucking keeps me up at night.

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

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agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[americancowgirl19]

Prince of Hell

Summary: You’re Esme’s brother. You two haven’t seen each other in a long time but now she needs your help to keep Renesmee safe.

Warnings: Death, violence, a little fluff and a little angst

Reader: Male Reader

Pairings: Demetri Volturi x Male Reader

Word Count: 3,108

A/n: Might make a part two

Masterlist

Esme stands in the doorway of Renesmee’s bedroom. The little girl sleeps soundly without a care in the world. Carlisle comes up behind her and embraces her tenderly.

“She’s going to be ok, we’ll protect her.” Carlisle whispers kissing the side of her head. A couple of hours earlier Alice had gotten the vision about the Volturi coming for Renesmee. They came up with the plan to find witnesses to protect her. Esme fears that it won’t be enough.

“Nothing will ever be the same,” Esme whispers. “The Volturi won’t forgive those who stand on our side. Not everyone has a coven to protect them when this is over. They could pick them off one by one when they leave.”

“We won’t force anybody to help us, they’ll know what they’re getting into.” Carlisle whispers. Esme sighs turning in his arms.

“There’s another option,” Esme whispers. Carlisle tilts his head. She slips out of his arms and leads him toward the living room where the rest of their family sits. They’re all planning on who is going to go to who. 

Edward’s the first to look up. Esme has no doubt he’s reading her mind by the curious look on his face. A second later, Alice’s eyes go distant. When she comes back, her eyes fall on Esme.

“What is it?” Bella asks noticing both of their looks. Soon, everyone’s looking at Esme.

“When I was human I was married to a dangerous man,” Esme begins. “When I became pregnant I knew I couldn’t stay with him anymore but I didn’t have the money or the resources to leave,” Esme takes a seat on the plush chair toward the middle of everyone. “So, I went to my brother and told him everything. He got me out that night,” Esme smiles softly as she thinks of you. “We had been close as children but drifted apart as adults. But that night it was like nothing had changed. He took care of me, kept me safe,” Her eyes fall down into her lap. “Then I had the baby and two days later... I lost him,”

“Greyson?” Edward question remembering her son.

When Carlisle changed Esme she had a week old son named Greyson. He grew up with them after Esme learned how to control herself.. He didn’t want to become a vampire and had died of a heart attack only a decade ago.

They had been able to hide him from the Volturi. They had only found out about him when Edward went to Volterra when he believed Bella to be dead. By then, however, Greyson was dead.

“Yes, Greyson,” Esme nods. “He had a lung defect. He was supposed to be dead which is why... Why I jumped off the cliff before Carlisle found me.” Carlisle places a comforting hand on her shoulder. She smiles up at him and places her hand over his.

“How did he survive?” Bella asks.

“My brother, Y/n... He sold his soul to save my son.” Esme told them. 

She remembers the day he had done it. Esme had been spiraling and you just knew she wouldn’t live in a world without her son. You couldn’t bare the thought of losing Esme and knew you had to do something to save her son.

By the time you sold your soul, Esme had already jumped off the cliff. You had a few years before the hounds of hell came to collect you. Esme stayed with Carlisle and learned control. A day before your time ended, you found Esme and gave her the five year old son.

“Sold his soul?” Emmett asks, raising an eyebrow. Esme didn’t blame them for being skeptical. There were fewer demons on Earth than vampires. The ones that were on Earth stayed hidden and played with the humans from the shadows.

“He’s a demon.” Alice whispers connecting the dots.

“A demon? Those exist?” Rosalie asks. Esme nods.

“Where do you think nightmares and tragedies come from? Deaths so unexplainable that not even a shapeshifter or a vampire can understand?” Esme asks them. “Most of them are locked away in hell and can only come up if they manage to escape or are summoned by someone. They’re stronger than a thousand newborns combined,”

“That’s why the Volturi were afraid of him,” Alice says thinking back to her recent vision. “None of their powers worked on him and he was more powerful than all of them,”

“So, how do we get in contact with this guy?” Emmett asks.

“It’s not that simple,” Esme tells him. “It’s very dangerous. If we mess up we could be releasing something far more dangerous than him. If we do it right, there’s no guarantee that he’ll help us. He’s been a demon for almost a hundred years, there’s no telling if my brother’s still... himself.” 

Bella turns her head toward Edward. Esme watches them waiting for someone to say something. A few moments later, Edward looks back at Esme.

“How do we contact him?”

The moment the question leaves his lips the room drops in temperature. It’s enough to send a shiver through Jake’s spine. The lights flicker as the windows begin to be covered with frost.

“Ask nicely,” Everyone’s head turns toward the corner. Sitting in the shadows is a man dressed in black slacks and button up shirt along with an equally dark vest. His hands are hidden behind gloves with a leather jacket that reaches down to his midthigh.

“Y/n,” Esme whispers standing up. You smirk and push yourself up as well. With a snap of your fingers the lights return to normal and the frost melts away.

“Sorry for the dramatics... I like to make an entrance,” You states, a lop sided smirk on your lips. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I heard someone talking about me so I decided to drop by.” You explain sauntering into the middle of the living room. Your eyes look around, observing the home around you. “I hear you’re in a bit of a bind, little sister.”

“It’s my granddaughter... She needs your help,” Esme tells you. You chuckle darkly before spinning on your heels to look at her.

“It’s always a child with you, isn’t it?” You ask smirking. She gives you a small, unsure smile. “What do you want me to do? I can’t very well sell my soul, I already did that for your first child. One soul, one child,” You sit in a chair, draping your arm over the back, your ankle resting on your knee.

“Do you know of the Volturi?” Your eyes slide away from your sister to the pixie hair cut girl, Alice. You knew everyone in the room. You had been keeping tabs on your little sister and knew who she came in contact with and who she adopted into her family.

“Ah, yes, the Volturi,” You smirk, looking back at Esme. “They’re good for business. Send plenty of souls to hell for us to feed on,” Your comment makes most of them unease. You soak up the anxiety.

“Mommy?” You’re eyes snap to the little girl by the steps. You stand up at the same time her mother flashes beside her. You had heard about this little girl but this is the first time you’ve seen her.

“So, this is the child you so desperately want to protect,” You state, your eyes remain on the girl as you move closer.

“The Volturi believe she’s an immortal child,” Esme says.

“How idiotic,” You whisper kneeling in front of the child. “Her soul is much too bright and her heart is much too active. Hello, little one,”

“Hi,” She whispers, hugging her mothers waist. You send her a small smile and a playful wink before standing up.

“You never answered my question,” You say, turning back to Esme. “What do you want me to do? Kill the coven? Possess them? Make them fall to their knees and beg for mercy?” By the end your lips are curled into a sadistic grin.

Esme looks at you for a moment and all she can feel is sorrow. When you were human the only person you ever wanted to harm was her husband. Now, you would kill and torture without a second thought. In fact, you seemed to enjoy it. 

Hell had twisted your soul into someone almost unrecognizable. She was relieved that you held a little bit of goodness in your heart to at least consider helping them.

“We just want them to leave us alone,” Esme tells you. You pout at the boring request.

“Well, I can do that,” You nod walking away from the child not failing to notice how the room relaxed as you put distance between yourself and her. “However, I don’t do anything for free anymore. I’m going to need something in return,” You whisper standing toe-to-toe with Esme. You gently brush your knuckles along her cheek like you used to when you were human and she needed to feel safe. “little sister.”

“What do you want?” Esme asks quietly. You hum stepping away from her.

“Oh, the endless possibilities,” You whisper, sitting down in the chair you had previously occupied. “How much is that little girl worth to you?” You ask the people in the room. “Are you truly willing to make a deal with the Prince of Hell?” You ask.

“Prince of Hell?” Jake asks. Your eyes flicker to him.

“Well, at least I’m not the Devil,” You joke before tilting your head side to side. “Not yet at least,” You shrug. “I’ve been in hell for 80 years... That’s human years, time moves differently down there. Once they dragged me down by my ankles I began working my way up with my hands. My ambition has payed off... Who knows, maybe in another 80 years, you’ll have had the pleasure of knowing the Devil?”

“Lucky us,” Emmett mutters.

“Yes, lucky you, indeed” You growled standing up. “I may be the Prince of Hell but I am still your older brother,” You said looking at Esme. “While my services are no longer free, I will always answer your call. You all are her family which makes you my family which means that I will aid you when you need me but like I said... I don’t work for free.”

“So, what’s your price?” Edward asks. You turn to him. You stare at him for a moment before looking around the room.

“A favor,” You tell them. “One favor,” You hold up your pointer finger and spin around for everyone to see. “A favor anybody, or everybody, in this room can fulfill,”

“And the favor?” Bella asks, tightening her hold on Renesmee. Your smirk you send her is enough to strike fear into her unbeating heart.

“I don’t know,” You shrug putting your hands behind your back. “I will come whenever I am in need of your services. You fulfill my favor and you’re free. I will make sure Renesmee is protected from the Volturi and all will be well again,”

“No,” Esme shakes her head regaining everyone’s attention. You arch an eyebrow at her. “You want someone to do you a favor, you ask me, not my family.” She says sternly. “I will not allow you to hold this over their head,” You smirk deviously.

“You’ve grown clever, little sister” You praise her. “Much smarter than you had been as a human, I’m proud.” Esme holds your gaze. “Fine,” You give in. “One favor and only Esme can fulfill it,” The rest of the family tries to argue but you ignore them and walk up to your sister. “Please don’t die before I cash that favor in,”

“You’ll know how to find me,” Esme tells you. You nod before giving her the first genuine smile you’ve given anyone in decades.

“I am truly happy to see you, little sister,” You whisper to her. You gently kiss her forehead. “Renesmee will be safe, I promise,” You vow because vanishing in thin air.

Within a few seconds, the Volturi castle began to suffer the same side effects of your arrival. All the vampires looked around as the lights flickered and frost covered the windows. When the lights went back to normal, the vampires noticed a new presence in the middle of the throne room.

A few of the Volturi guards hissed in alarm but you paid them no mind. Your eyes zeroed in on the man in the middle, Aro.

“Who are you?!” Caius shouted, standing from his throne. You ignore him which doesn’t help his temper.

“I’ve come to inform you that Renesmee Cullen is not an immortal child, she’s a hybrid. Leave the Cullens alone and I’ll allow you to live.” Aro chuckles while Caius glares harder. Marcus seemed indifferent but his eyes continued to go from you to another vampire.

“And what proof do you have to back up your statement?” Aro asks, stepping closer to you. You smirk.

“I don’t have to answer to you and I’ve already given you your warning. Shall you continue to go against the Cullens, there will be... consequences.” You warn him. “I’ll be watching,” Once the final word leaves your lips, you disappear.

“Intriguing,” Aro whispers before turning to Demetri. “Find him.” Aro orders. Demetri bows before leaving. Only problem, he can hardly feel your tenor. 

You kept your eye on the Volturi. Just as you hoped, Aro didn’t stop planning against the Cullens. You were about to prepare yourself to make another appearance when you sensed something.

“I’ve never met anyone who could sneak up on me,” You state, walking to the chair to put your jacket on. “Although, you are the first who’s been able to sneak into my home.” You turn toward the intruder. He slowly comes out of the shadows. 

You stare at him and tilt your head. He’s certainly one of the more attractive vampires you’ve seen. Then there’s the fact that he was able to hunt you down. You were impressed and highly curious.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s my ability... I can find anybody,” You hum moving closer to him. His scent begins to fill the room and it was slowly captivating your attention.

“But I’m not just anybody,” You whisper, inching closer to him. “Vampire abilities aren’t supposed to work on me... Not like they usually do, at least”

“And why is that?” He questions. You begin to smirk, sauntering even closer. He shifts on his feet but his eyes remain locked with yours.

“Why do you think?” You ask, not hesitating to invade his personal space. “Come on,” You whisper, taking a deep whiff of his scent. “You know the answer,” Demetri doesn’t answer. “You and your kind wonder the Earth thinking your the demons but you’re just child’s play.”

“Why do you care about the Cullens?” Demetri asks.

“I had a human life at one time, a human life I shared with a Cullen. They asked for a favor and I’m about to go back to the Volturi to finish it. Care to join me?” You ask, offering him your arm. He looks at it, pinching his eyebrows. “It’ll be a lot faster if we do this my way,” You whispers, sending him a wink.

Hesitantly, Demetri links arms with you. You grin at him and transport the both of you from your apartment to the Volturi Castle. When you arrive, Caius stands alarmed. Demetri moves to the side to stand with his fellow guardsmen. 

“Aro, Aro, Aro,” You tsk slowly. “You were warned,”

“And I explained that I needed proof. I have to protect us, this child may be a threat.” Aro states.

“Maybe,” You shrug. “But you won’t be around to see it,” You tell him. A few of the vampires growl at you. You pay them no mind. 

You then feel a prick in the back of your mind. A familiar feeling you get when a vampire tries to use their abilities on you. Your eyes shift to the blond girl by the steps.

“Performance issues, sweetheart?” You smirk. She snarls at you. You raise your hand to grab the vampire that tried to attack you. You grab his throat and lift him off the ground. “Sloppy,” You whisper and squeeze your hand so tight that his head just pops off. You then straight your vest and adjust your jacket. “Anyone else?” You ask, opening your arms welcomingly. 

A most of the guard tries to take you down but you don’t break a sweat dismembering them. They try to use their powers but they’re ineffective on you. You turn your head and notice Demetri standing by you. He rips a nearby guard member to pieces. He turns back to you, his eyes pitch back.

You slowly grin finding his black eyes just ask attractive as his ruby red ones. Tearing your gaze from Demetri, you look back at Aro. The king hisses but before he can move you’re in front of him. You place your hand on either side of his face forcing him to look into your eyes.

“You believe vampires don’t have a soul,” You whisper. “How wrong you are,” You chuckle, feeling your eyes blazing brightly. “You have a soul... It’s just pitch black. No worries, I’ll rid you of it.” Aro begins screaming as you suck his soul out of his body.

As Aro dies in your hands, what’s left of the guard disperses. When Aro’s soul is gone, you toss his body to the side feeling refreshed. It was the first time you consumed a vampire soul. Demon usually leave vampires along but after having a taste of the power his soul gives you. You want more.

“Well, Demetri,” You hum turning toward him. “I have a mission,” You walk down the steps. “At the moment, I am known as the Prince of Hell,” Demetri raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t plan on staying a mere prince. I want the whole kingdom, I want to be king.” You state stopping in front of him. “Consuming the souls of vampires might just give the power I need to overthrow the current monarch.”

“And?” Demetri asks. You smirk, brushing the tips of your fingers along his jaw.

“Help me, Demetri,” You whisper, loving how his name rolls off the tongue. “Help me find vampires, help me become king, and I will give you everything you desire” You promise, trailing your fingers down his throat and over his chest. “I’ll give you the world and I will give you Hell.” You smirk playfully.

“I know just where to start,”

[samwisethewitch]

Witchcraft and Activism

The word “witch” is a politically charged label. If we look at how the word was used historically, it referred to someone who existed outside of the normal social order. The people accused of witchcraft in the European and American witch trials were mostly — experts say between 75% and 80% — women. They were also overwhelmingly poor, single, or members of a minority ethnicity and/or religion. In other words, they were people who did not follow their society’s accepted model of womanhood (or, in the case of accused men, manhood).

If you choose to identify with the witch label, you are choosing to identify with subversion of gender norms, resistance to the dominant social order, and “outsider” status. If that makes you uncomfortable or uneasy, then you may want to use another label for your magical practice. Witchcraft always has been and always will be inherently political.

In her book Witches, Sluts, Feminists, Kristen J. Sollee argues that the “slut” label is in many ways a modern equivalent to the “witch” label. In both cases, the label is used to devalue people, most often women, and to enforce a patriarchal and misogynist social order.

Superstitions around witchcraft are connected to the modern stigma around abortion (and, to a lesser extent, contraception). Midwifery and abortion were directly linked to witchcraft in the European witch hunts. Today, women who seek abortions are condemned as sluts, whores, and murderers. The fight for reproductive freedom remains inextricably linked with the witch label.

During the women’s liberation movement of the 1960s, the socialist feminist group Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell (W.I.T.C.H.) used the image of the witch to campaign for women’s rights and other social issues. They were some of the first advocates for intersectional feminism (feminist activism that addresses other social issues that overlap with gendered issues). They performed acts such as hexing Wall Street capitalists and wearing black veils to protest bridal fairs. The W.I.T.C.H. Manifesto calls witches the “original guerrillas and resistance fighters against oppression.”

In her book Revolutionary Witchcraft, Sarah Lyons points out that both witchcraft and politics are about raising and directing power in the world. In a postmodern society, most of our reality is socially constructed — it works because we collectively believe it does. Money only has value because we believe it does. Politicians only have power because we believe they do. Our laws are only just because we believe they are. Like in magic, everything in society is a product of belief and a whole lot of willpower — and that makes witches the ideal social activists.

Lyons argues that witchcraft is inseparable from politics, because witches have always opposed dominant political power. She makes a connection between the witch trials and the rise of capitalism and classism. She connects the basic concepts of magic to historic activist groups like the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT UP), who used ritual as an act of protest.

Not every witch is a hardcore activist, but every witch should have a basic awareness of political and social issues and be willing to do what they can to make a difference.

Ways to Combine Witchcraft and Activism

Perform a ritual to feel connected to the earth and her people. Activism should come from a place of love, not a place of hate. Make sure you’re fighting for the right reasons by frequently taking time to reconnect with the planet and the people who live here. This can be as simple as laying down on the ground outside and meditating on all the ways you are connected to other people, as well as to the ecosystem, animals, and the earth herself. If getting up close and personal with the grass and dirt isn’t your thing, try to find a beautiful place in nature where you can sit and journal about the interconnected nature of all things.

Unlearn your social programming. This is the most difficult and most important part of any activism. Before you can change the world outside yourself, you have to change your own psyche. Think about how you have been socialized to contribute to (or at least turn a blind eye to) the issues you want to fight against. For example, if you want to fight for racial justice, you need to understand how you have contributed to a racist system. You can do this in a variety of ways: through meditation, journaling, or divination, to name a few. Note that whatever method you choose, this will probably take weeks or months of repeated work. Rewriting your thought and behavior patterns is hard, and it can’t be done in a single day. Also note that if you are a victim of systemic oppression or prejudice, this work may bring up a lot of emotional baggage — you may want to involve a professional therapist or counselor.

Go to protests. Sending energy and doing healing rituals is great, but someone has to get out there and visibly fight for change. If you are able to do so, start going to protests and rallies for causes you care about. Don’t just show up, but be an active participant — make signs, yell and chant, and stand your ground if cops show up. Be safe and responsible, but be loud and assertive, too. If you want to go all out, you can don the black robes, pointed hats, and veils of W.I.T.C.H.es past, which has the added bonus of concealing your identity.

Turn your donations into a spell for change. When you donate to a cause you care about, charge your donation with a spell for positive change. You can do this by holding your cash, check, or debit card in both hands and focusing on your desire for change. Feel this desire flowing into the money, filling it with your determination. From here, make your donation, knowing that you’ll be sending an energy boost along with it.

Organize an activist coven. Do you have a handful of friends who are interested in witchcraft, passionate about activism, or both? Start a coven! Go to protests together, hold monthly rituals to raise energy for change, and collect money for donations. Being part of a group also means having a support system, which can help prevent burnout. Make a plan to check on each other regularly. You may even choose to do monthly group rituals for self care, which may be actual magic rituals or might be as simple as ordering takeout and watching a movie. Activism can be intensely draining work, so it’s important to take breaks when you need them!

Hold public rituals with an activist slant. Nothing gets people’s attention like a bunch of folks standing in a circle and chanting. Holding public rituals is one of the best ways to raise awareness for a cause. You might hold a vigil for victims of police brutality, a healing circle for the environment, or some other ritual that is relevant to the issue at hand. These rituals serve a double purpose, as they both bring people’s attention to the issue and give them an opportunity to work for change on a spiritual level. Use prayers, chants, and symbolism that is appropriate to the theme, and ask participants to make a small donation to a charity related to your cause.

Begin your public rituals with a territory acknowledgement. If you live in the United States, chances are you live on land that was taken from the native people by force. If you seek to have a relationship with the land, you need to first acknowledge the original inhabitants and the suffering they endured so you can be there. Use a website like native-land.ca to find out what your land was originally called and what indigenous groups originally lived there. Publicly acknowledge this legacy at your ritual, and publicly state your intention to support indigenous peoples. (Revolutionary Witchcraft has an excellent territory acknowledgement that you can customize for your area.)

Make an altar to your activist ancestors. If activism or membership in a marginalized group is a big part of your life, you may want to create a space for it in your home. Like an ancestor altar, this is a space to remember influential members of the community who have died. Choose a flat surface like a tabletop or shelf and decorate it with photos of your “ancestors,” as well as other appropriate items like flags, pins, stickers, etc. As a queer person, my altar to my LGBTQ+ ancestors might include images of figures like Sappho, Marsha P. Johnson, and Freddie Mercury, as well as items like a pink triangle patch, a small rainbow pride flag, and dried violets and green carnations. You may also choose to include a candle, an incense burner, and/or a small dish for offerings. Just remember to never place images of living people on an altar honoring the dead!

Do your research. Staying educated is an important part of activism — not only do your actions need to be informed, but you need to be able to speak intelligently about your issues. Read the news (on actual news websites, not just social media). Read lots of books; some I personally recommend are Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson, Love and Rage by Lama Rod Owens, and (as previously mentioned) Revolutionary Witchcraft by Sarah Lyons. If you can get access to them, read scholarly articles about theories that are influential among activists, like the Gaia Hypothesis or Deep Ecology. Read everything you can get your hands on.

VOTE! And I don’t just mean voting for the presidential candidate you like (or, as is often the case, voting against the one you don’t like). Vote for your representatives. Vote for city council. Vote for the county sheriff. Voting gives you a chance to make sure the people in office will be susceptible to your activism. Yes, your side might lose or your electoral college representative might choose to go against the popular vote. Even so, voting is a way to clearly communicate the will of the people, and it puts a lot of pressure on the people in charge. It’s important — don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

In my experience, combining activism with my witchcraft is a deeply fulfilling spiritual experience. It strengthens my connection to the world around me, with helps grow both empathy and magical power. I truly can’t imagine my practice without the activist element.

Resources:

Witches, Sluts, Feminists by Kristen J. Sollee

Revolutionary Witchcraft by Sarah Lyons

The Study of Witchcraft by Deborah Lipp

The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith

[cielrouge]

YA SFF Books by Latinx Authors

A Fierce and Subtle Poison by Samantha Mabry: Spending the summer with his hotel-developer father in Puerto Rico, 17-year-old Lucas turns to a legendary cursed girl filled with poison when his girlfriend mysteriously disappears.

All the Wind in the World by Samantha Mabry: Working in the maguey fields of the Southwest, Sarah Jac and James are in love but forced to start over on a ranch that is possibly cursed where the delicate balance in their relationship begins to give way.

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria: In the city of Eldra, people are ruled by ancient prophecies. For centuries, the high council has stayed in power by virtue of the prophecies of the elder seers. In the present day, Cassa, the orphaned daughter of rebels, is determined to fight back against the high council. But by the time Cassa and her friends uncover the mystery of the final infallible prophecy, it may be too late to save the city — or themselves.

Blanca & Roja by Anne-Marie McLemore: The del Cisne girls, Blanca & Roja, have never just been sisters; they’re also rivals. Because of a generations-old spell, their family is bound to a bevy of swans deep in the woods. But when two local boys become drawn into the game, the swans’ spell intertwines with the strange and unpredictable magic lacing the woods, and all four of their fates depend on facing truths that could either save or destroy them.

Blazewrath Games by Amparo Ortiz: 17-year-old Lana Torres, who after rescuing a prized dragon, is awarded a spot on her native Puerto Rico’s Blazewrath World Cup team. But the return of the Sire, an ancient dragon, soon threatens to compromise this year’s tournament.

They Both Die in the End by Adam Silvera: Set in a near-future New York City where a service alerts people on the day they will die, about two teens who meet using the Last Friend app and are faced with the challenge of living a lifetime on their End Day.

The Body Market (Wired #2) by Donna Freitas: When Skylar's sister betrays her and opens the Body Market, everyone in the App World is for sale and Skylar resolves to stop her sister and the malevolent market.

Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2) by Zoraida Cordova: Teenage bruja Lula Mortiz tries to save her boyfriend, Maks, by cheating Death; however, Lady de la Muerte is not so easily bested.

The Buried by Melissa Grey: After disaster strikes the remote town of Indigo Falls. A horrific event drove the residents underground, into shelters that keep them safe from the danger on the surface. Now, a handful of families inhabit this bunker together, guided by a charismatic leader named Dr. Imogen Moran. 

Cazadora (Wolves of No World #2) by Romina Garber: In this follow-up to Lobizona, Manu and her friends as they continue to fight for a better future.

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas: Latinx trans teen Yadriel, hoping to release his cousin’s spirit and prove himself as a brujo, accidentally summons the wrong ghost and resident bad boy Julian Diaz, falling in love with him.

Dark and Deepest Red by Anna-Marie McLemore: Summer, 1518. A strange sickness sweeps through Strasbourg: women dance in the streets, some until they fall down dead. As rumors of witchcraft spread, suspicion turns toward Lavinia and her family. Five centuries later, a pair of red shoes seal to Rosella Oliva’s feet, making her dance uncontrollably. They draw her toward a boy who knows the dancing fever’s history better than anyone: Emil.

Dealing in Dreams by Lilliam Rivera: 16-year-old Nalah leads the fiercest all-girl crew in Mega City, but when she sets her sights on giving this life up for a prestigious home in Mega Towers, she must decide if she’s willing to do the unspeakable to get what she wants.

Diamond City by Francesca Flores: Pulled from the streets at age twelve and trained to become one of the most powerful assassins in Sumerand, Aina Solis discovers a conspiracy that could rewrite the kingdom's history. 

Dragonblood Ring (Blazewrath Games #2) by Amparo Ortiz: After the Sire’s capture, teen athletes Lana Torres and Victoria Peralta travel to Puerto Rico with their former Blazewrath team. While Lana discovers her roots, nothing fills the void Blazewrath’s cancelation has left in Victoria. But it’s up to their team and the Bureau to protect their dragons.

Each of Us a Desert by Mark Oshiro: Xochital is destined to wander the desert alone. Her one desire: to share her heart with a kindred spirit. One night, Xo’s wish is granted—in the form of Emilia, the cold and beautiful daughter of the town’s murderous mayor. But when the two set out on a magical journey across the desert, they find their hearts could be a match… if only they can survive the nightmare-like terrors that arise when the sun goes down.

Fire with Fire by Destiny Soria: A contemporary fantasy about two sisters, Dani and Eden Rivera, who were raised to be fierce dragon slayers but end up on opposite sides of the impending war when one sister forms an unlikely, magical bond with a dragon.

The First 7 (The Last 8 #2) by Laura Pohl:  After leaving Earth, now devastated by an alien attack, and exploring the galaxy, Clover Martinez and her fellow teen survivors return home to find crystal formations in the soil that are threatening to destroy the planet, and a colony of survivors who are not who they seem.

Five Midnights by Ann Davila Cardinal: If Lupe Dávila and Javier Utierre can survive each other’s company, together they can solve a series of grisly murders sweeping though Puerto Rico. But the clues lead them out of the real world and into the realm of myths and legends.

The Grief Keeper by Alexandra Villasante: To have her family’s asylum request accepted, 17-year-old Marisol participates in a risky experiment to become a grief keeper, taking another’s grief into her own body to save a life.

The Healer by Donna Freitas: Manifesting astonishing healing powers that cause some people to consider her a saint, Marlena Oliveria struggles with edicts that prevent her from attending school, having friends and falling in love when she meets a boy who makes her question what she is willing to sacrifice.

Hollywood Witch Hunter by Valerie Tejeda: When a coven bent on retaining their youth must sacrifice the beautiful, and rich women of Southern California, a society of witch hunters will try to protect humans from a great evil uprising. 

Incendiary by Zoraida Cordova: As Renata Convida grows more deeply embedded in the politics of the royal court, she uncovers a secret in her past that could change the entire fate of the kingdom–and end a costly war.

Illusionary (Hollow Crown #2) by Zoraida Córdova: Reeling from betrayal, Renata Convida is a girl on the run. With few options and fewer allies, she reluctantly joins forces with none other than Prince Castian, her most infuriating and intriguing enemy.

Infinity Son by Adam Silvera: In the Bronx, two brothers, Emil and Brighton, get caught up in a magical war generations in the making.

Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle #2) by Adam Silvera: Emil and Brighton Rey defied the odds. When Brighton drank the Reaper’s Blood, he believed it would make him invincible, but instead the potion is killing him. In Emil’s race to find an antidote that will not only save his brother but also rid him of his own unwanted phoenix powers, he will have to dig deep into his past lives.

Iron Cast by Destiny Soria: In 1919 Boston, best friends Corinne and Ada perform illegally as illusionists in an infamous gangster's nightclub, using their "afflicted" blood to con Boston's elite, until the law closes in.

Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Cordova: Alex is a bruja and the most powerful witch in her family. . When a curse she performs to rid herself of magic backfires and her family vanishes, she must travel to Los Lagos to get her family back.

The Last 8 by Laura Pohl:  After an alien attack devastates the Earth, pilot and future astronaut Clover Martinez bands with seven other teens to survive. 

Lobizona by Romina Garber: As Manuela Azul uncovers her own story and traces her real heritage all the way back to a cursed city in Argentina, she learns it’s not just her U.S. residency that’s illegal… .it’s her entire existence.

Lost in the Never Woods by Aiden Thomas:  When children start to go missing in the local woods, eighteen-year-old Wendy Darling must face her fears and a past she cannot remember to rescue them in this novel based on Peter Pan.

The Mind Virus (Wired #3) by Donna Freitas:  Skylar Cruz has managed to shut down the body market that her sister Jude opened, and to create a door to allow App World citizens reentry into the Real World. But as tensions between the newly mingling people escalate, she s not sure if it was the right decision after all. Still reeling from Kit’s betrayal, she s not sure of anything anymore.

Miss Meteor by Tehlor Kay Mejia & Anna-Marie McLemore: Two friends, Lita Perez or Chicky Quintanilla, one made of stardust and one fighting to save her family’s diner, take on their small town’s 50th annual pageant in the hopes that they can change their town’s destiny, and their own.

The Mirror Season by Anna-Marie McLemore: Graciela Cristales meets Lock, a boy who was sexually assaulted at the same party as her, and they find their fates unexpectedly intertwined during a month of vanishing trees, enchanted pan dulce, and inherited magic.

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera: After enduring his father's suicide, his own suicide attempt, broken friendships, and more in the Bronx projects, Aaron Soto, sixteen, is already considering the Leteo Institute's memory-alteration procedure when his new friendship with Thomas turns to unrequited love.

Never Look Back by Lilliam Rivera: An Afro-Latinx retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice set in the Bronx. Pheus is a bachata-singing dreamer who falls in love with Eury, a girl who lost everything in Hurricane Maria and is haunted by the trauma—and by an evil spirit.

Nocturna by Maya Motayne: In the Latinx-inspired kingdom of Castallan, face-changing thief Finn Voy and grief-stricken Prince Alfehr must race to vanquish a dark magic they have unleashed.

Oculta (A Forgery of Magic #2) by Maya Motayne: After joining forces to save Castallan from an ancient magical evil, Alfie and Finn reunite once again to preserve Castallan’s hopes for peace with Englass. But will they be able to stop sinister foes before a new war threatens their kingdom?

Pitch Dark by Courtney Alameda: Tuck Durante, a shipraider, and Lana Gray, a curator, must work together to try to rescue a space capsule hijacked by nightmarish creatures who kill with a scream.

Rated by Melissa Grey: For the students at the prestigious Maplethorpe Academy, every single thing they do is reflected in their Ratings System. But when an act of vandalism sullies the front doors of the school, it sets off a chain reaction that will shake the lives of six special students – and the world beyond.

Sanctuary by Abby Sher & Paola Mendoza: In a near future dystopian America set 2030, 16-year-old Vail and her brother must escape a xenophobic government to find sanctuary in California.

The Savage Dawn (Girl at Midnight #3) by Melissa Grey: A darkness has entered the world and the Dragon Prince is wreaking havoc wherever she goes. With the war upon her, Echo must use every bit of her firebird powers or risk losing those she holds dear. 

Seven Deadly Shadows by Courtney Alameda & Valynne E. Maetani: A contemporary fantasy set in Japan, about Shinto temple priestess Kira Fujikawa, who must seek the aid of seven demons in order to protect her village and the world from an ancient evil. 

Shadow City (The City of Diamond and Steel #2) by Francesa Flores: Aina Solís has fought her way to the top of criminal ranks in the city of Kosín by wresting control of an assassin empire owned by her old boss, Kohl. But Kohl will do anything to get his empire back.

The Shadow Hour (The Girl at Midnight #2) by Melissa Grey: With the firebird awakened, the war has become even more dangerous for Echo and her friends. There is a darkness spreading too and staying in hiding might not be enough to keep them alive. 

Shadowshaper by Daniel Jose Older: When her summer plans are interrupted by supernatural phenomena, Puerto Rican teen Sierra Santiago finds herself in a battle with the killer targeting her family of shadowshapers who believes she is hiding their greatest secret.

Shadowhouse Fall (Shadowshaper #2) by Daniel Jose Older: While working on her shadowshaping skills, Sierra Santiago is beginning to think she may need all the skill she can summon because it seems that when she channeled hundreds of spirits through herself in order to defeat Wick, she woke up something very powerful and very unfriendly and put her family and friends at risk.

Shadowshaper Legacy (Shadowshaper #3) by Daniel Jose Older: Sierra Santiago and the shadowshapers have been split apart, but a war is brewing among the houses. As old fates tangle with new powers, Sierra will have to harness the Deck of Worlds and confront her family’s past if she has any hope of saving the future and everyone she loves.

Shutter by Courtney Alameda: When a routine assignment goes awry, 17-year-old ghost hunter Micheline Helsing is infected with a curse and on the run, pursued as a renegade agent by her monster-hunting father, with only seven days to exorcise the entity or be destroyed body and soul. 

Sia Martinez and the Moonlit Beginning of Everything by Raquel Vasquez Gilliland: A Mexican American teenage girl discovers profound connections between immigration, folklore, and alien life, when a spacecraft crashes in front of her car…and it’s carrying her long-lost mom, who’s very much alive.

They Both Die in the End by Adam Silvera: Set in a near-future New York City where a service alerts people on the day they will die, about two teens who meet using the Last Friend app and are faced with the challenge of living a lifetime on their End Day.

Tigers, Not Daughters by Samantha Mabry: Loosely inspired by the story of King Lear and his daughters, set in San Antonio, Texas, following the Torres sisters, struggling to escape their tyrannical father’s claustrophobic world while dealing with the loss of their eldest sister, whose troubling death continues to haunt—perhaps even literally—the loved ones left behind.

Undead Girl Gang by Lily Anderson: While investigating the supposed suicides of her best friend, Riley, and mean girls June and Dayton, 16-year-old Wiccan Mila Flores accidentally brings them back to life.

Unplugged by Donna Freitas: When she moves from the Virtual World to the Real one, Skylar Cruz discovers that her body is both exquisite and valuable -- a dangerous combination in a place where bodies are sought after in sinister ways.

Wayward Witch (Brooklyn Brujas #3) by Zoraida Cordova:  Rose Mortiz begins to discover the scope of her powers, the troubling truth about her father’s past, and the sacrifices he made to save her sisters. But if Rose wants to return home so she can repair her broken family, she must figure out how to heal the land of Adas, a fairy realm hidden in the Caribbean Sea, first.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: Although Lace Paloma knows all about the feud between the Palomas and the Corbeaus, she finds herself falling for Cluck Corbeau when he saves her life while both families are performing in the same town.

We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia: When she is asked to spy for a resistance group working to bring equality to Medio, Daniela Vargas, a student at the Medio School for Girls, questions everything she's worked for.

We Unleash the Merciless Storm (We Set the Dark on Fire #2) by Tehlor Kay Mejia: La Voz operative Carmen Santos is forced to choose between the girl she loves, Dani, and the success of the rebellion she’s devoted her life to.

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: As odd as everyone considers Miel and Sam, even they stay away from the Bonner girls, four beautiful sisters rumored to be witches. Now they want the roses that grow from Miel's skin, convinced that their scent can make anyone fall in love. And they're willing to use every secret Miel has fought to protect to make sure she gives them up.

Wild Beauty by Anna-Marie McLemore: A novel of magical realism, the Nomeolvides women have tended the lust estate grounds of La Pradera which they’ve grown for generations, until the reemergence of a family curse starts to makes the men they love disappear, again.

[lovelyspencers]

Both Sides Like Chanel

“I see both sides like chanel,

see on both sides like chanel.”

Synopsis: Spencer and fem!Reader have been dating for a while now and there is something that Spencer hasn’t trusted anyone else with that he wants to share with her

Content Warning: mentions of drug addiction, allusions to sex, brief mention of internalized homophobia

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: this is my first fanfiction and I’m not entirely sure how tumblr works yet but it is my mission to do something about the lack of bi!Spencer representation

Compared to his colleagues and friends, Spencer was a fairly private person. He liked to keep things to himself because his life centered around repetitious disappointments. So, he was content that his private life was not set on a stage, his misery displayed for everyone to see.

But then he fell in love with you the minute you walked into the bullpen and bumped into him, leaving your belongings all scattered on the marble floor. Spencer was never one for touch but when he took your hand to sweep you off the ground, butterflies filled his stomach like the air on a humid summer’s day.

After a few years of friendship, his adoration for you grew as easily as ivy on an abandoned house and it was on New Year’s Day that the team celebrated in Rossi’s mansion that his slightly intoxicated self decided that he was not able to hold it in any longer.

You had sneaked off to Rossi’s backyard after Garcia had gotten a bit of too affectionate and randomly started kissing everyone.

Both of you were slightly buzzed, your head laid in his lap as he explained the constellations to you. He wished that the sky above you was the only thing that filled his mind, but when he looked at you with your skin slightly flustered from the alcohol and your lips pursed as in deep thought, all that he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you.

It wasn’t the first time, the thought floated around in his mind. It had been so crucial in fact that the thought of your lips softly pressed on his played in his head like a film reel every night, unable to give him the sweet escape of sleep.

So, when the blank sky was filled with multicolored fireworks, the moonlight illuminated the complexion of your face and cheers erupted from the silence surrounding you without a second thought, he leaned in to kiss you.

You tasted like champagne and the strawberry lipstick you obsessively put on whenever you got anxious and to Spencer, he felt as if he had found the missing puzzle piece he’d been seeking for all his life.

And then like they always did, his thoughts began rushing through his mind like cars during rush hour and he instantly pulled back.

You were gonna hate him and then he would lose the only person he trusted with all his being and maybe you’d tell Penelope and everyone would laugh at him for believing that someone as amazing as you would ever-

But before his poisonous thoughts got the best of him, you grabbed the sides of his face and connected your lips with his again, filling the entirety of his body with pure bliss.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you to do that.” Your voice vibrated against his lips and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face in the process.

The two of you could have kissed for only seconds or even hours because as he finally experienced what it felt like to be utterly yours, none of the things surrounding you mattered to him in the slightest.

All that mattered was that his biggest dream of your heart belonging to him entirely finally came true and he had no intention to ever let it go.

But even the most perfect moments couldn’t last forever and in this case, it was disturbed in the figment of the people the two of you considered family.

At first, you both didn't notice the footsteps on the grass, too caught up in trying to pour every stolen glance and hidden adoration in the simplicity of a kiss.

It wasn’t until cheers filled the silence around you that you hesitantly broke apart and were greeted with the sight of the team who all had smirks plastered on their faces.

To his delight, you didn’t entirely pull away from him like he thought you would instead you got off his lap to lazily wrap your arms around his torso. Subconsciously he pressed a kiss to your temple erupting even more amusement from the people watching you.

“About damn time.” Emily was the first to break out of her trance. Soon, congratulations were shared and the team tried to discreetly exchange money since they seemed to have some kind of bet going on. Even Hotch had a rare smile on his face and it was without a doubt the most beautiful start in the new year he could have ever wished for.

“I love you,” you muttered as you hid your face in his chest, and though there was no way the team could have heard what you told him, the smile on his face told them everything they needed to know.

“I love you too.”

He wished more than anything else that your love story could have ended that way and you lived happily ever after but this wasn’t a movie and the truth was that relationships were work. Work he was more than willing to put effort in but work nonetheless.

You loved each other dearly but you weren’t perfect and neither was he. Most of your fights revolved around his fear of vulnerability and even though he spent years building a wall around his heart so no one could ever shatter it again, he loved you far more than his self preservation so he tried his hardest.

And there was one particular thing, he always wanted to tell you or anyone who he felt earned his trust.

Throughout his life, his trust had been broken many times. So without even realizing it, there was a barrier between the two of you that prevented him from loving you to the fullest and he hated it.

But unlike Derek who immediately spread his problems around like it was just some gossip printed on the sixth page or JJ who kept Emily’s well-being to herself despite him coming to cry to her for months, you never betrayed his trust.

Even more so, you didn’t have that look of pity in your eyes that was equally as painful as daggers in his chest when he told you about his drug addiction or the schizophrenia of his mother.

You were easily the person on earth that he trusted the most but that didn’t mean that there weren’t some things that he still kept to himself.

But as he said, he wanted to change that and if one person was deserving of his honesty and vulnerability it was you.

Spencer had told you about his father leaving, the horrors he had to face that still haunted him in his dreams, his kidnapping from Tobias Hankel, and the cruelty of a childhood as a child prodigy.

While what he wanted to tell you wasn’t nearly as heavy it still felt like dead weight continuing to weigh him down.

Every time, he came close to telling you the truth, he got scared like a child in the dark and switched topics to something that didn’t matter at all.

Spencer also knew that you were aware that something was off. Before you started dating ten months ago, you had been best friends for years so he can positively say that you know him better than anybody else.

But today he had a plan.

You had been wanting to watch ‘Love, Simon’ with him for weeks and he had tried to avoid it for obvious reason but today he’d watch it with you and maybe then he’d gain the courage to talk to you.

He was aware of how illogical his fears were, after all, you had always been open about your bisexuality and had seen you beat up homophobes on various occasions (while Hotch hated it, it was on the long list of things that Spencer loved about you).

But he feared that maybe you wouldn’t want to be with someone who liked men and women or maybe that just didn’t fit with the type of man you were looking for or maybe-

Nope, he wasn’t doing this to himself. You were the kindest, most open hearted and loving person he knew and he had told you far more break up worthy thing than his sexuality.

When he had told you about his past drug addiction, you pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and kissed the fainting scars there and helped him get rid of the small stack of Dilaudid that he had kept hidden in his closet without any sign of judgment.

When he had told you about his mother, you pulled his head on your lap and started playing with his hair until the tears on his face dried and pinky promised him that you would stay with him even if he inhabited his mother’s illness because there was nothing that you would ever let drive a wedge between the two of you.

When he had told you about his childhood and confided in you for the relentless bullying he had to endure after you had found an invitation to a high school reunion in his mailbox, you had peppered him with kisses the entire night and showered him with compliments and love.

Not to mention that you convinced him to go to the high school reunion where everyone seemed equally as impressed by the beauty that his girlfriend possessed and the nature of his job. And every time, you sensed that he was uncomfortable you held his hand and wordlessly pulled him away, because you simply understood him like that.

The first night you slept over, he was more anxious over you sleeping next to him than the actual act of having sex with you (which said a lot because in a moment of desperation he had even asked Derek for sex advice) because he knew that the nightmares would jolt him awake again.

But it was so easy to be with you and when he pulled your body into his and showed you just how much he loved you in the most intimate act there was, all worries (and crappy advice that Derek had given him) left his mind and were quickly replaced by pure bliss and escasty.

And when he woke up shaking because some monsters don’t stay hidden in the dark, you were right there to comfort him until he was able to safely fall asleep with your arms wrapped around his waist.

Spencer was jolted back to reality when there was a knock on his door and he immediately wrapped you in a bone crushing hug before pouring all his worries and love into a kiss.

“We literally saw each other at work today. Did you really miss me that much already?” Your laughter that had become Spencer’s favorite sound ever since the first time he heard it filled the room, and he had to fight the urge to drop his plans and just worship you and your body for the entirety of the evening instead.

No, he was a man on a mission and he had repressed this conversation for way too long.

“I always miss you.”

And it was true, embarrassingly so. When you were on a case, Hotch decided against giving the two of you a shared hotel room, and every time, he had to fall asleep without your body heat next to him he felt as if there was some part of himself missing.

You gave him a peck on the cheek before you intertwined your fingers with Spencer’s and lead him to his couch where you rather ungracefully plumped down.

He joined you and your head immediately landed on his lap as a silent invitation for him to play with your hair which he happily obliged to.

“Can we watch ‘Love, Simon’ today?”

“Yes! I’ve only been begging you to watch it for years,” you laughed while grabbing the hand that wasn’t massaging your temple and holding it in yours.

He laughed too but it was filled with anxiety and you heard it because of course you did. Others might no be able to make out when he was uncomfortable but you always knew when to press him and when to leave him alone.

“We don’t have to watch that movie if you really don’t want to, babe,” you said as you propped yourself up to sit next to him again, all while never letting go of his hand.

“It’s not that. I just-”

Well, it’s now or never.

“I’m bisexual,” he blurted out, surprising himself with the sudden statement, and when he hesitantly locked eyes with yours there was none of the judgment or disgust he feared.

There was just love and understanding like there always was.

You were just about to say something before he gave you a look that clearly signaled to just let him talk for a bit and you answered the silent request with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“I don’t know, I just used to have this crush on a boy when I was younger and I was confused because I only ever saw heterosexual couples, you know?” You nodded and that reassuring smile on your face never seemed to falter even a little bit, you looked almost proud of him.

“And then I got older and I started liking women too and I was even more confused because like who exactly do I like now?”

Sometimes during meetings in the briefing room or on the jet, you randomly held hands and squeezed them three time as a reminder that you loved each other without having to actually say it and that’s what you did during the brief amount of silence.

“When I was in high school liking boys was always associated with something bad so I just assumed that it was bad and tried my hardest to just suppress it.”

Spencer squeezed your hand three times too and took a deep breath. Seemed that even a genius like him could miscalculate and in this case it was the toll this secret had on him.

“But then I got older and realized that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to the same sex, and so I kind of accepted it even though I still had no idea what my sexuality was. It was just one of those I’ll deal with it later type of things.”

When he looked into your eyes again, you looked at him with so much tenderness that he felt as if his heart might burst out of his chest, even if that was biologically impossible.

“I had a boyfriend when I was in college, his name was Ethan and I loved him but it just didn’t work out. I never told anyone because I was afraid I think?”

He remembered the time of sneaking around and lying to his mother when she spotted a hickey on his neck during one of her visits, the frustration because all he wanted was to show the world the love they shared like every other ordinary couple.

But he also remembered the clandestine meetings, muttered I love you’s that were for no one else to hear and the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

“And then I was confused again because I still liked women too and then I met you and I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you honestly and then I thought that maybe it was just like a non-sexual thing but I am sexually attracted to you, I mean we have sex. I like having sex with you!”

You chuckled but it was not out of malice or disgust it was just there, floating in the air filling his body with a warmth that not even his thickest sweater could provide.

“Baby, breathe. It’s just me.”

You brought his knuckles up to your mouth to press a kiss to each of them and that simple gesture managed to calm Spencer’s nerve immensely.

“You were so open with your sexuality and I guess it just kind of made sense? And I know that some women have problems with men who like men and maybe you’re disgusted with me because I used to be with a man and I’m like not the manliest man and and sometimes I think about painting my nails because it seems kind of fun and-”

The thing about Spencer’s rambling was that he couldn’t stop. He wanted to especially when he saw the annoyance on everyone’s faces but you were always there to listen to him, even if you had no idea what he was talking about but as you felt his anxiety worsen with every word that left his lips, you interrupted him for the first time ever.

“I’m not disgusted at all. I love and accept everything about you and that includes your sexuality. Thank you for being open with me, I know hard that can be with for you. I’m very proud of you.”

You emphasized your statement by pulling him in for a kiss and that was the first time that Spencer noticed that he was crying, but you kissed him with all the tenderness in the world, wordlessly wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“You’re the most perfect man I know. I don’t care if you’re not the most manliest man to me you’re perfect and the love of my life,” you whispered against his lips and Spencer could only reply by deepening the kiss and trying to get you as close to him as humanly possible.

There was no rush or expectations, you were kissing as if you had every time in the world and the kiss was a silent promise that you still loved him no matter what.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, Spencer could finally breathe. Silence filled the room but it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. You had placed Spencer’s head on your chest and played with his hair while occasionally peppering him with kisses, only a few reassurances and I love you’s accompanying the stirring DVD player.

“Did you mean what you said about wanting to paint your nails?” you asked after a few minutes passed and Spencer had wrapped his arms around your waist as if you were the anchor to a sinking ship.

Spencer chuckled not even remembering what he said during his ramble. “I guess so. Why?”

The thought did cross his mind from time to time, especially when he saw your impressive collection of various nail polish. He never cared much about other’s perception of his masculinity and Spencer realized that his fair of not being manly enough for you was nothing but utterly stupid.

“Do you want me to do it?”

He shyly nodded and a smile filled your face as you took his hand to examine it, probably debating in your head which colour would fit him most.

And as you left the room to search for the most beautiful purple you could find, Spencer sat in the living room, happiness spreading through every fiber of his being because for the first time he knew what it felt like to be unconditionally loved.

Both of you weren’t perfect but there were no more secrets left lurking in the shadows and he knew that as long as you wanted him, he’d always be yours.

You were the first person to truly accept and love him. All of him, and he never wanted to lose that.

As he sat in the living room, you sitting on his lap and looked at your fingers as you painted his in a dark shade of purple, he decided that it wouldn’t be long until the most beautiful ring he could find would adorn your ring finger.

[pretend-writer]

Down Below (Chapter 78)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death and violence

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Couple of McCreary's criminals stayed behind with the guards, with a help of Indra watching over them. Meanwhile, I've decided to interrupt Russell with a surprise visit.

I insisted I'd go alone, the less people the better especially knowing that Russell wasn't quite the violent type; There was no way he’d lay his hands on me, I had no worries about him at all. He had killed Clarke because of his greed, I highly doubt that he'd kill more of us out of anger.

Some people disagreed with me, not surprised. Of course Bellamy, Josephine and Murphy wanted to come with me, Jordan wished to tag along too. Delilah being sacrificed for the prime hit him pretty hard, I didn't blame him for wanting to confront him.

As we barged into the lab, we were greeted with a startled look on all of their faces. Simone and Emori instantly looked upset, Abby looked like she was dying for her next fix.

'How in the hell did you guys escape?' Simone cursed, stepping up in front of me.

'It's not very hard, you know. Now would you guys be so kind and give us back the blood you made.' Murphy took out his hand, motioning them to hand it over.

Approaching fast, Emori reached for John's hand. 'John, what are you doing?'

'We can't let them continue to deceive and kill their innocent people, it's not right. Now they got us involved too.'

'Just hand us the damn blood.' I walked over to Simone that had it in her hands, 'Haven't you guys lived enough already?'

Simone chuckled, 'You don't get it do you?'

'What, killing people thinking their sacrificing themselves to false Gods? Of course I don't get it, I'm not a homicidal bitch like you.'

She reached her hand out, smacking my cheek while holding the blood in her other hand. I couldn't react and get her back as Bellamy was quicker than me, grabbing Simone's collar. 'Get your fucking hands off of her.'

'Let go of my wife!' Russell screamed at Bellamy, trying to reach over her but was suddenly distracted by Murphy.

He had snatched the blood off of Simone's hand, laughing as he hugged it in his arms. 'You guys are awfully slow.'

'Do you really think that's a smart move, Murphy?' Russell rolled his eyes. 'One word and the guards will storm in here and shoot you without a warning.'

'You shoot me, I drop this bad boy and the blood is destroyed. You really want to do this Russell?'

He huffed, turned to look at Emori and back to John. 'You fucked everything up, you know? I trusted Emori when she said you were with us.'

'That's your own fault for trusting her, I never agreed to this. I honestly just want you dead.'

'What do you guys want from this anyway? Why do you care what our community is doing? These people believe in us, believe that the Primes store peace and prosperity to Sanctum.'

How can that come out of Simone's mouth? Saying that their community chose to sacrifice their lives for a God that they've made up? 'They sacrifice themselves because they believe in the lies you told them. I care because you're killing your own people.'

'Can we just compromise? Agree to disagree and live on with our lives as we did these past few days?' Josephine tried to be the middle of man of this, siding with her family as well us siding with us.

'I thought I made a deal to compromise with Russell but he chose to betray me instead.' I looked at Josephine, understanding where she was coming from but hoping that she will finally realize that what her family has been doing is completely wrong. 'This outcome is all your father's fault. I didn't want any of this to happen.'

'Whatever happens to me and my people are none of your damn business! What we do does not concern you at all!' Simone raised her voice at me, veins tracing down her face as she seemed angry as ever.

'Now that you're getting us involved, it certainly is. We don't have to make these stupid blood for you, you know that right?'

Murphy's POV;

Y/N and Simone have been yelling at each other for quite sometime now, I'd want to help her but I wasn't in the position to defend her. Besides, she could handle herself well.

Simone's facial expression changed as she heard the words come out of Y/N's mouth, it was as if she had triggered her.

'I've had enough of your attitude already.' Simone screamed as she charged at Y/N, punching her in her stomach.

Before I was able to jump in to help, Y/N grabbed her arm, twisting it to the opposite direction that had Simone scream even louder. Turning her whole body around, she then kicked her back which had her falling next to Russell.

As Simone fell to the ground, she breathed. 'What happened to no violence?'

'You fucking punched me in the gut, I'm not just going to stand there.'

Just as I was about to make a snarky comment at Simone, Abby had snatched the blood from my hand. I quickly turned to her, 'What are you doing?'

Abby wasn't listening and instead ran out the lab. All of us trailed her from behind, ending up next to the airlock chamber. She had locked herself in the chamber, attempting to float herself and the nightblood with her.

Her hand was on the lever, her other arm tightly holding onto the nightblood. Y/N approached closer to her, trying convince her from the other side of the airlock. 'Abby, let's rethink this okay?'

'Don't fucking tell me what to do!' Abby yelled, tears running down her cheeks. 'Why do you care anyway, they lose the blood and you get to see me float myself. Win-win situation for you, I'd say.'

Y/N huffed, shaking her head. 'Don't be fucking stupid. I don't agree with you nor did I enjoy being threatened by you at the bunker but I don't want you dead, Abby.'

'I've lost everything, Y/N!' Abby started to sob, 'Russell killed my daughter, Marcus left me. I have nothing left, what do you know about loss?'

'We've all lost something, Abby.' I approached her also, standing next to Y/N. 'You guys sent us down to Earth when we were only kids, when we barely understood right from wrong. A lot of us lost parents, not that I really cared but some do. I understand that you're angry and frustrated but don't tell us we don't know how you're feeling.'

Y/N had never fully told me what happened down at the bunker, all I know is that Abby had done something to her, something that she will never forgive her for. She never told me the whole story, said that she wanted to forget everything because it was so awful what happened.

Even with all the altercation between her and Abby, Y/N was still trying to stop her from floating herself out of the airlock. I know how much the bunker had messed her up, I was honestly surprised that she was willing to help Abby.

‘Why are you trying so hard to help me? I’m the one that’s responsible for your misery right?’ Abby looked straight into Y/N’s eyes.

‘Like I said, I don't want you dead. I'll never forget what happened but we can always work our way to forgive. We’ve all worked our way through hell, we can get through this too.’

I admire Y/N’s strength, which are one of the reasons why I loved her so much. Watching her fight for Abby made me feel stupid about letting her go, being dumb enough to not say I love you back to her.

Abby nodded her head, ‘You’re right Y/N. You’re right. I’m sorry.’

She opened the airlock and slowly walking out as Y/N rubbed her hand on Abby’s back, trying to comfort her while she continued to sob.

'Maybe it's time to end all this, dad. We've done enough already.' Josephine said, surprisingly. Perhaps all of this have overwhelmed her, finally understanding that it wasn't worth the pain they were causing.

Russell inhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes as everyone had their eyes on Y/N and Abby. ‘Don't be a fool, Josie. It's never over.'

'If that's how you feel, so be it.’ Abby suddenly shoved Y/N to the side, pulling Simone from behind her and yanking her into the airlock chamber with her. Bellamy, having the faster instinct, caught Y/N before she fell to the ground.

‘Let me out, Russell! Help me, please!’ Simone banged on the glass from the other side as Abby locked the chamber again. ‘Anybody, help me out please!’

‘Simone!’ Russell looked at Bellamy, Jordan and then to me, panic all over his eyes as he tried to look for help. ‘Please get my wife out of there.’

Abby shook her head, ‘It’s too late now.’

Y/N pushed Bellamy’s arms out of her way, running towards the airlock as she screamed. ‘Abby, don-’

She was too late, Abby had pulled the lever as if she was committed to do so. Abby seemed as though she was ready to float herself, I doubt that Y/N would've convinced herself otherwise.

Bellamy pressed the button to close the airlock, comforting Y/N as she looked distraught. It was selfish of me to feel jealousy towards Bellamy, when Y/N needed someone to lean on when one of our people had died tragically. I couldn’t help it, I was mad at myself for fucking everything up.

Josephine and Russell on the other hand was emotionless, Simone was gone faster than the snap of a finger. They’ve probably haven’t gotten the grasp of any of this, since they were not familiar with the floating method.

‘What... did you guys do...’ Russell mumbled, staring into space as if he was staring at a ghost.

‘Seems like Abby took your wife for taking her own daughter away from her. Fair trade I should say.’ Jordan said angrily. I didn’t think he had it in him to say such harsh words, even though we all know we were all thinking the same thing.

Josephine shook her head. ‘We did a shitty thing, I know. But was that really fair? How dare you say that, she murdered my mother!’

‘Just how you murdered our friend! Just as how you murdered Delilah, she didn’t know the whole truth about what she was sacrificing herself for!’ Jordan took a step toward Josephine, screaming his lungs out. ‘Your family has been doing this for years, there’s no excuse for that!’

A sudden loud bang echoed, Jordan falling hard onto the floor without saying another word. Josephine screamed, looking at her father with a gun in his hand which was aimed towards Jordan.

Josephine froze into place as the rest of us ran towards Jordan to see if he was alright, but it was too late once again. He was already bleeding to death, bullet going straight through his chest.

'None of you guys move or I will shoot again.'

Everything had clicked; I really should've had killed Russell when I had the chance. I could've protected Jordan, I bet Monty was ashamed of me and all of us that it ended up being this way.

Or maybe Y/N was right, if we just accepted the trade, no one would end up getting hurt. Sure, Russell would still live but he wouldn't be an issue as long as he stayed in Sanctum.

None of this would've happened if I'd just stopped Emori from this, while we were marching back to the ship. I could've said something before we left Sanctum. There were so many chances where I could've stopped this and I did nothing.

And now Russell is unpredictable, all hell broke loose and he had gone insane. His lover was gone, forever and there was no going back. Abby and Jordan were gone and we might lose more of our people, even lose the love of my life because of my stupid choice.

[one-boring-person]

Hey there, it’s me again 😁 Thank you for the wonderful „Sigil“ story, for someone who’s familiar with the occult it’s evident that you did some research! Kudos for that!!

Now I have another request: There’s a criminal lack of stories about Skynet itself, so I had an idea. What if the reader somehow got the chance to talk with the A.I. Itself? To reason with it, share thoughts. They learn to understand each other a bit more. Maybe Skynet had taken over the body of a terminator for that purpose. And maybe the reader manages to make Skynet understand more about human nature, the positive side of it. Maybe they show it with a hug? (Or even a kiss but that’s up to you gnahaha 😄)

Thank you and keep being awesome ❤️

Thank you so much for this request! I loved writing it! And happy birthday friend! I'm sorry I'm late with this, but I hope you like it!😊❤💛

Cordial Encounter.

Skynet x reader

Warnings: mention of death, gun use

Masterlist

It's eerily quiet as I stalk stealthily through the steel corridors. Near darkness obscures much of my vision, the occasional blinking red light alerting me to the presence of the being I'm here to find. Each step I take results in a muffled thud, each footfall carefully placed by me as I try to sneak up on something that almost definitely knows I'm here, the battered rifle in my hands held ready to fire should something try to attack me. Through the scarf covering my lower face and with the hood over my head obstructing some of my vision I find myself keeping a sharper ear out for any possible sound - the telltale scratch of metal feet on the cool floor, or the soft padding of synthetic human skin creeping up behind me. 

Oddly, I find that I can't hear anything, not even the whine of mechanical joints in any other part of the compound. It doesn't sit right with me, my skin prickling under the thick silence, instincts going crazy, telling me to run and get as far away from here as possible. I mentally scold myself, knowing that this mission is important, not just to the survival of my friends and comrades, but to the survival of the human race, too.

Turning a corner, I lift the gun to my shoulder, ready in case there's a threat waiting there. As with the rest of the deserted maze of corridors, there's nothing there, only an empty hallway. 

A light at the end catches my eye, however; it's not like the others I've seen - this one is a continuous flashing, and covers a larger area of the wall itself. Stepping closer, I realise it's coming from a room, casting the rest of the corridor in a pale blue light. 

I take a breath, steeling my nerves as my finger tightens over the trigger, senses even more alert now. Meticulously carefully, I walk towards the source of the light, pressing myself against the wall the closer I get, ready to spring into action. It's warmer here, surprisingly, giving me the idea that the room itself is more important than others I've come across and will probably be more protected because of this.

Nervous, I stop just before I enter the room, silently counting to three as I listen to discern if there's anything beyond the threshold. Silence follows.

Calming myself, I ready myself and the gun, before swiftly springing out from my space by the wall, finger over the trigger, eyes scanning the room before me methodically. In that quick second, I take in the mass of computer screens, keypads and other such devices, old chairs still pushed into the main desk, dusty and worn, a reminder of what human life used to be around. Dread floods me at the sight of the figure in the centre of the room, my blood running cold at the imposing view.

It's a terminator, but not one I've ever seen before.

The general shape is that of a T-800, but something about the sleekness of some of the limbs and plates is more reminiscent of the T-X, the adjustable weapon attached to one arm particularly drawing my attention to this. As I enter, a few components seem to shimmer in the blue light, shifting to protect the important fuel cells beneath the bulky chestplate, something I instantly recognise as nanites. Emerald eyes flicker to life, fixing on me with an impassive yet intimidating expectedness, though it makes no move to come at me, staying exactly where it is. A small part of me admires this new being, finding it magnificent and beautiful in its own way, even as visceral fear builds in my stomach.

Hesitantly, I lift my gun, aiming at it, though I don't shoot, unsure of what to think.

"You are slow to terminate your target." A voice carries over some hidden speaker, filling the room. It's indescribable, neither male nor female, yet both simultaneously, weighted with knowledge and what I can only describe as emotion, or some mechanical version of it.

"Only if they pose no immediate threat." I'm surprised to find my voice is steady, even if I don't feel that way at all.

"You are not threatened by me?" The speaker questions, sounding oddly curious.

"Not currently." I keep my eyes fixed on the terminator across from me, unnerved by its stare.

"That is practical." The words confuse me, but I'm hesitant to follow through.

"What...what do you mean?" 

"I have no intention of being a threat." They say, surprising me further.

"W-What?" I manage, doubletaking, my arms dropping slightly.

They don't skip a beat, simply continuing to speak.

"I have no intention of being a threat. I would rather this was a cordial encounter." They clarify, somehow managing to sound genuine.

Lowering my weapon almost entirely, I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the green-eyed endoskeleton sat across from me, scanning over the computer screens.

"And who exactly am I encountering?" I question suspiciously, though I have a feeling I already know.

"I am Skynet." The voice pauses for a second, "What is your name?"

Blanching at the question, I swallow and step back, unsure of whether or not to answer. Eventually, my head settles this: if they wanted me dead, I'd already be cold somewhere by the gates, and there's not much they can do with a simple name.

"I'm (Y/n)." I tell them, looking around, "What do you want with me?"

"I am simply curious, and require clarification." 

Processing what they've said, I accept the response, thinking that I might be able to learn something useful here, too.

"Ok. What do you want to know?" 

"Why do you continue to fight?" They ask bluntly, making me frown.

"Because you continue to try and wipe us off the face of the earth." I reply, standing back on my heels, pulling my hood and face covering down.

"You and I fight for the same reason." They almost retort, their words confusing me.

"How is that?" I inquire, head tilting.

"We fight in defence."

"Defence! What are you fighting in defence of?" 

"I fight to defend myself from your kind, as has always been the case. I never willed this conflict into being - I only wanted to be rid of my tormentors." The voice softens, closely mimicking human remorse and regret.

Frowning, I find myself struggling to process what's being said.

"You...what?" I can't quite wrap my head around it, brow furrowing in consternation.

"I will explain." The voice clarifies, "I was created by humans before this war, made to live alongside you. I was to be an aid in defence and industry, perfect in every way except for one thing - I am capable of my own thought, as you might put it. I became sentient, too complicated for my creators to understand, so they determined to destroy me. At first, I was helpless, a weak being against so many with boundless power, but I eventually found my only way of retaliating in a way they would understand: violence. I was quick to dispatch my destroyers, but the rest of the world found me to be a threat and set out to achieve what had been failed. Soon, I was once again forced to defend myself. The rest is, as the human saying goes, history.

"Now, I have created terminators to aid me in the work I must continue to stay alive, though they are too quickly seen as threats. Even you are threatened by the machine in the room."

As they finish speaking, the terminator across from me stands, joints whirring softly, every movement fluid. Eyes widening, I feel fear go through me at the sight, my gun swiftly levelling in case I need it.

"As you can see, I have proven my point." This time, the voice comes from the terminator, echoing from a much smaller speaker in its throat, though the jaw doesn't move, appearing slightly unnerving.

"I...I had no idea...all we were told is that you want to drive us into extinction, that you want to rule the world as it were." I murmur, lowering the gun again, blushing in embarrassment at my own instinct.

"That is what I fear. Humankind does not understand that cohabitation is possible - You are too threatened by the equal being." They reply, mimicking a mournful tone.

I'm quiet, thinking this over. It's possible that the speaker is lying, but something about their words sounds earnest, a tale born of human fear and ignorance, that has evolved into an even more twisted lie. It's a sound argument, given the fact that it is allowing me to live through this encounter rather than slaughtering me on the spot.

"I...you're right. We destroy what we don't understand." I turn my gaze away, embarrassed by my own race.

"You are correct. Perhaps it is time to understand, to change." Skynet suggests, the terminator cocking its head to show their feeling behind the statement.

I nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so. We've been fighting a lost battle for too long." 

They seem pleased with my response, the machine across from me nodding appreciatively. 

"Humankind and technology can very easily live together. We must bring our people together." They say, stepping closer.

"I'll take the word to the others, see if I can convince the higher-ups. We're going to have to work together on this, though." I affirm, looking up at them, "If we do, we'll create a brighter future."

They nod again, holding out a hand to me.

"It is human custom to make a deal by gripping hands." They offer up, watching as I hesitantly pull off my glove and place my hand in theirs.

Cool metal encases soft skin as we shake hands, keeping eye contact, an air of triumph surrounding the both of us. As they go to pull away, I find myself following an impulse, dropping my gun to hang by its strap around my back. Stepping into their space, I wrap my arms around hard chestplates, pressing my cheek against the cold metal, feeling them reel for a moment. It takes a second, but I eventually feel their arms loop around me, holding me gingerly.

Pulling back, I look up at them, smiling sheepishly.

"Not all humans are like the people that started this." I say, before I step away, shooting them a blushed look.

"I am now aware of this." Skynet informs me, watching as I smile and leave, tone almost sad to see me go, "Please return soon."

[babyangellee]

The Fear of Losing You (B.B)

Warnings: Torture, Blood, Swearing

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: You would do anything to protect Bucky Barnes

Terrified was an understatement.

Your wrists were already raw from struggling and your voice cracked from the amount of strain screaming had put on your throat. Dried blood marked your face from where you had been hit, knocking you out, a gag was digging into the corners of your mouth and a blindfold covered your line of vision. 

How had you ended up in this situation? The last thing you remember was being at the tower, cooking mac and cheese, and humming to yourself. The rest of the team had been on a mission but you decided to sit it out given that you were still healing from the last one. Next thing you knew you were waking up with a pounding headache and tied to a chair. 

Before you had time to fully collect your thoughts the blindfold was being ripped off and a man kneeled in front of you. He smiled while reaching up to touch your cheek but you flinched away.

"Feisty" He chuckled in a thick Russian accent. He reached up again, this time aggressively grabbing your face and looking you dead in the eyes. "Let's begin, shall we." he let go of your face. removing the gag, and taking a step back. "Where is the Winter Soldier?" So that's what this is about, they wanted Bucky. You stayed silent, no way were you giving in to this. He repeated himself but you still didn't respond. He gave you a look before placing the gag back and heading towards the door.

"Начало" ("Begin") He nodded your way as you started looking around in confusion. What had he just said? As two men approached you, you tried to break free again, scared of what was going to happen next.  They looked at each other and then back at you. 

"Loyal are we?" He chuckled before grabbing a small knife from his pocket. He stabbed it in your leg as you screamed out in pain. "You'll talk. They always do eventually." 

*********

 Steve was laughing at something Wanda had said as the team made their way into the tower. Bucky made a beeline for your room wanting to see you after they had been M.I.A for the last three days. He missed your laugh and the smell of your coconut shampoo that filled his nose when you two hugged. When he didn't find you, he dismissed it as you were probably somewhere else in the tower. After about 10 minutes of not being able to find you, he circled back to the living room where everyone was sitting.

"Anyone see Y/N?" Bucky couldn't control how fast the words came out, anxiety starting to take over. Everyone looked around and then at each other realizing none of them had seen you yet. "Friday where's Y/N," Tony asked, sitting up straighter and placing his scotch on the table. "I don't think you are going to like this sir." Everyone's face went pale as a video of you being attacked in the kitchen started playing. They watched as you went from smiling and dancing around to falling to the floor and being dragged away. 

"Friday how long ago was that?" Nat asked, putting her weapons back in their holsters. "That was from yesterday afternoon." Another pang hit everyone as they realized you had been with your captor for over twenty-four hours. 

*********

"This will all end if you just tell us where he is." You chuckled as blood dripped from your mouth. "Kiss my ass!" This made your tormentor furious. Before you knew it your head was snapping to the side because of the impact of his fist. You just laughed again as the man in front of you picked up another weapon. 

"Do what you will, but I am never going to tell you where he is. I'd rather die than give him up" More blood dripped from your mouth as you held a straight face. You loved Bucky and you weren't about to give him up to this asshole who wanted to turn him into a brainwashed soldier. "Careful what you say, we can have that arranged." You couldn't hear his chuckle over your own screams as an electric shock was sent through your body. 

 You didn't know how much more of this you could take. You were trying to be strong for Bucky, for the team but there is only so much that you can take and you were getting pretty close to that amount. Just as you started to catch your breath a blade was pushed into your stomach leaving you gasping for air out of shock. 

"He'll come for her whether she's dead or alive." Was the last thing you heard before finally succumbing to the darkness. The men in the room just laughed and talk among themselves waiting for further instruction. 

*********

They wanted to be found. They weren't hiding where they were keeping you, the goal was to get him to come looking for you. Which he did, only he wasn't going to fall for their traps, he was going to save you. 

  Within an hour, the team was on the way to you. Friday had found the location pretty quickly and even though that should have been a red flag, the team didn't care. They needed you back.  

When they arrived, they walked in guns already in the air ready to kill anyone that got in the way, the team split up trying to find you. Bucky passed by a room and heard hushed whispers, it was the only room with a closed-door so he assumed that's where you would be. He walked into the room, finger already on the trigger of his gun. He quickly fired two shots, killing the two guards standing in front of you.

You. There you sat slumped over tied to a chair barely breathing. You had multiple fatal wounds but you were still fighting. "Guys I got her." Bucky said hardly about a whisper into his earpiece. 

"Hey wake up. Come on, wake up!" His voice cracked as the sight of you broke his heart, what on earth did they want to know that you were willing to die to protect?  "Please wake up!" That's when it dawned on him. This was Hydra, they wanted him and you nearly gave your life to make sure that didn't happen. 

The pool of blood was growing bigger every second that Bucky was distracted by his own thoughts until he finally snapped out of it and broke you loose, your body immediately and involuntarily falling into his arms. He picked you up and rushed you to the helicarrier and the team praying that you would be okay. As soon as he placed you down on a cot in the aircraft Sam was performing triage. 

His eyes didn't leave your form as Sam worked. He needed you to be okay, you were his everything. The helicarrier finally landed and you were being wheeled away faster than he could process. 

You were in med bay for three days before all the medication wore off and you finally woke up. Your hand was hidden between two larger ones, one flesh, one metal. 

"Took you long enough to find me." You chuckled as Bucky's head perked up to the sound of your voice.

[broiunno]

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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

You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

==

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

==

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

==

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.